Her stomach still twisted in knots and her chest was tight as she was led by the guard to Sedrak’s tent. It was late morning, and many men were out in the camp. It seemed to Leola that all their eyes were upon her, and that they were laughing heartily behind her back, looking at all the skin that remained uncovered by the fur she wrapped around herself.
There was also the thought of how she was being led on a chain, like an animal, with no more dignity than one. And surely they knew what she was: a plaything of the king. They knew what he would do to her, how he would claim her. Perhaps they were thinking of how they would watch, and how they might partake of her once Sedrak tired of her.
Her cheeks were wildly red when they reached Sedrak’s tent, but she was determined not to cry. Dorva’s words on this matter had carried great weight with her: if she did not wish to be punished, she must obey.
The king was reclined upon a pile of furs, and he rose to take Leola’s leash when she entered with the guard. He waved the guard away and loomed over Leola, appraising her appearance. Leola looked at the ground, for she knew not what else to do.
But she managed not to cry.
“You come to me to obey, plaything? To serve your master, and to know your place?”
“Yes, Master,” Leola said quietly.
Sedrak grunted. “You have spoken to the woman, Dorva?”
Leola looked up at Sedrak, immediately wishing she had not: his face terrified her, with his hard edges, wild beard, and piercing eyes. “I have, Master,” Leola managed to say.
“You shall not cry, then.”
Sedrak pronounced this as though it were set stone, not a question or a command, but a matter discussed and settled, of which they would speak no more.
“No, Master,” she said, as he turned and walked to the pile of furs. He pulled her along with him, by the leash, and when they reached the furs, he pushed her forward and down, so that she had no choice but to obey his next command:
“Lie upon the furs.”
Leola obeyed, and the fur about her fell away to the ground as she did. She was now naked again, on all fours, like an animal, with Sedrak behind her, the heat of his body close to her.
Would he spank her again? What would he do?
She looked ahead at the material of the tent. She felt the tension of the leash as Sedrak tugged at it, firmly but gently. The collar tightened against her throat, and she was forced to lift her head and arch her back.
“This is very good,” he said. “Dorva has instructed you well, but it is not what I want at this moment.”
A new wave of humiliation washed over her: her bottom was tilted, on display for him, but there was no other position she could be in if he tugged at the leash this way.
Next, she heard a swish in the air, and a tiny bite on her bottom, as Sedrak lazily whipped the end of the leash onto her skin.
The whipping itself was lighthearted and did not hurt, but her bottom was sore and her skin flared with heat. And with it, she realized with humiliation, the place between her legs grew wet again. The ache between her thighs that had throbbed in her dreams started to pulse again. She closed her eyes, as if she could dispense with the world and her situation by doing so.
“Turn around, plaything, and lie upon the furs on your back with your legs spread open for me.” He released his grip on the leash, and Leola hung her head for a moment in shame: the idea of lying on her back, facing him and his penetrating stare, was almost more humiliating than her current state.
But she had no choice, except to obey. She stretched out on the furs and rolled over, glancing at him briefly before parting her legs, her cheeks burning as she felt the heat of his stare upon her body.
He was staring at her intently as he dropped to his own knees and pulled her legs apart even wider, with a grunt of approval. Leola burned with shame, with her legs spread open wide before him. She had no recourse but to allow him to do whatever it was he was going to do.
She gasped when, with two fingers, he parted the petals of her sex. When, with a third, he pressed against some place at the apex of her womanhood, she was powerless to suppress the moan that rolled up her throat and past her lips.
“You like that feeling?” He didn’t wait for a reply, his fingers turning circles around the spot.
Her toes curled as she clutched at the blankets and furs beneath her. Her jaw fell and she locked eyes with him. “Oh… oh… oh, gods, yes…” she whispered, breathless.
His circling quickened. As his finger spun faster around the spot she felt like something was growing inside her. A wave. A massive, looming wave that would soon come crashing over her and surely drown her.
She fought against it. There had to be something she could do? She closed her eyes and thought of the forests outside the keep. Tried to imagine the cool water of the sea where she swam when she was younger. It was hopeless. Nothing could suppress the overwhelming squeezing between her legs.
Her eyes snapped open. She saw his hand, the skin darker than hers by a shade, tanned and weather-beaten. The muscles in it rippled as his fingers spun quicker still. She glanced up. His penetrating gaze seemed to drive right into her belly. “Some… something’s happening,” she whimpered. Unable to help herself, she grabbed his arm with both hands.
“Something is,” he said. His eyes narrowed. “You’re going to come for your master like a good little plaything.”
“Co-come?” She forgot to add the ‘Master,’ but she was in such a state of shock and bliss that she didn’t care.
Thankfully he seemed not to, either. His finger pressed harder against the spot.
She felt like she was on the edge of something. On the verge of a great release she’d never experienced. More frightened than curious, she looked at him again. “What are you doing to me?”
“Come. I want to feel your cunny squeezing,” he ordered.
And suddenly it was like a whip cracking and a pot of hot water rolling over her all at once. Her body began to shake. She clung to his arm unable to control the convulsions racking through her. Then, when she thought she could stand no more, that warmth and foggy bliss traveled up her spine and flooded her mind and she could think of nothing else but his hand between her legs making her feel that way.
The feeling was far too brief. It ebbed and brought her back inside herself. Suddenly, with that hot bliss missing, she was just a young woman with this brute’s hand between her legs.
And he wasn’t letting go.
She bit her lip and turned her head away from his stare.
Not for long. He touched her cheek and made her look at him again. Lifting his fingers to his nose, he sniffed, then grunted. “Now, I will have you on your hands and knees,” he said.
She obeyed. Her mind was still reeling from what had happened. From the way he’d commanded her body with only his hand and made it do his bidding. She did her best to resent him for it. What scared her was the need that had now settled in her belly. That now on her hands and knees she didn’t want to be anywhere but where she was. She wanted to feel his touch again. And that was terrifying.
He ran a hand over the flesh of her bottom. When he patted it, it ignited.
She balked at the way her heart squeezed at the gesture. Something must be wrong with me to crave such things.
He stood up behind her and out of the corner of her eye she saw him walk to a chest near one wall of the tent. Reaching in he extracted some implement she’d never seen. Black and smooth, it was tapered on one end and flared into a bulb with a thin neck and a flange. He spun it in his hands as if studying it before walking back behind her. He dropped the thing next to her then stepped around in front. He cupped her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “Remember this position,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she replied, confusion in her voice. She shivered when Sedrak dropped his heavy loincloth to the ground.
He sank to his knees and his cock was two hand lengths from her face.
She couldn’t help but stare. Here, up close, she could make out the veins that crawled along the sides. The ridge of the head and the tiny eyelet at the tip. She gasped and tried to look away when he lifted it to her lips. His hand kept her staring at the member.
“Is it true, then? You’ve never held a man’s cock. Never tasted it before?”
She shuddered at the thought.
“No one’s ever touched your pussy.” A smile, momentarily terrifying to Leola, crept onto his face. “What do you do up there when the nights are long and the days are cold?”
Leola was speechless for a moment, for she did not know if he truly expected a reply. But when he continued to look at her, she rushed to give an answer.
“Table games, Master,” she replied.
He let go of her chin and burst out laughing. He wiped his upper lip with a finger. “Table games,” he muttered, chuckling still. “Open your mouth.”
Slowly she let her mouth fall open. Her eyes bugged as he raised the head of his organ and dragged it back and forth across her lips.
His scent was musky, and a salty taste crept from her lips to her tongue. Her eyes went wide in surprise. Her cheeks and chest heated with fear and humiliation—this was very wrong, very sinful—and yet wetness once again ran from her sex.
When he pressed the bulbous head past her lips it slid across her tongue. Her body tingled with arousal and excitement as her jaw strained to accommodate the large, hot column. What a dirty thing! How could such a dirty thing make her feel so… so hungry for it?
She closed her eyes and assured herself that she had no choice, there was no option for her but to submit to this barbarian man, to allow him to use her body as he pleased.
To her surprise, that very thought made her squirm with more pleasure.
Sedrak put a hand on each side of her head and pressed the now stiff shaft into her mouth. It slid deep inside of her, filling her throat. She felt an urge to gag, but it subsided, and she breathed heavily through her nose as the organ continued to fill her, stretching her jaw wide.
“Look at me,” Sedrak growled.
She lifted her eyes to his as he pulled back, and when she met his hot, dominating stare, she felt the ache between her legs throb, hungrier than ever. He stared at her until she felt that she would liquefy before him, then pressed his organ into her throat again.
His stare was mesmerizing. Dark and cold as iron dipped in an icy lake. And yet beneath it she sensed something different. Hunger. Greedy hunger and need.
He quickened his pace, thrusting in and out of her mouth. His cock thickened, ever larger in her aching mouth. A lusty snarl curled his lip.
Her mind was racing. For some reason she imagined Datharia’s revulsion at her position. At taking a man’s prick into her mouth and sucking on it while staring into his eyes. More wetness soaked the hair between her legs.
Sedrak grunted. Letting go of her head, he pulled his cock out of her mouth and gripped it.
Her eyes darted to the tip where clear fluid was beading.
He grabbed her by the hair again. Rising to his feet he brought her to her knees and pointed the tip of his manhood at her breasts. He grunted and jerked and a moment later a stream of creamy fluid came spraying out. It arced through the air between them and landed with a soft splatter on her breasts.
She gasped and looked down as the fluid began rolling down her chest, coating her nipples.
Another spurt flew through the air. This time it fell in fat clumps just below her collarbone. Sedrak let out a deep sigh and let go of his cock.
His eyes were glued to the hot liquid moving down her chest, sticking, drying and cooling against her skin. He seemed lost for a moment, and then placed his fingers against her breasts, gently rubbing the liquid into her skin.
But the trance he seemed to be under was broken suddenly: he shook his head and reached for the ground, snatching a scrap of material, which he tossed at her. “Clean yourself,” he barked, turning away from her.
Trembling, she picked it up and dabbed up the essence he’d spilled onto her chest. And though she should have been revolted by it, she found it strangely titillating. This beast of a warrior shooting his essence onto her full breasts felt lewd but at the same time it caused that achy warm feeling to return between her legs.
Sedrak was not facing her; he was pouring himself a glass of wine. When he turned to her, the tenderness that had temporarily entered his demeanor was gone again. Leola looked at him, imploring with her eyes: if she had done something wrong, she wanted desperately to amend it, but she did not know what it was.
“On your hands and knees,” Sedrak commanded.
Leola fell forward again, resuming the position he’d been so pleased with.
He sank to his knees behind her and picked up the implement.
She dared to turn her head, attempting to see what he meant to do to her next. If he were to spank her again… even the thought of it made her burn with the memory of his hand hot on her bottom. Her cunny throbbed.
“Eyes straight ahead,” Sedrak growled. He punctuated his command with a heavy slap on her bottom.
Her head snapped forward as she did his bidding. Her back arched as the tip of the implement grazed against her tender folds.
He rubbed it up and down her leaking slit, collecting the wetness. When the tip dragged along the tender skin between her sex and bottom hole, she shivered with the unfamiliar delight. When it pressed against the ring of muscle that led to her backside she sucked in air. She could not stop herself from whipping her head back to look at him. But he was staring at her bottom, watching the implement as he played with it, teasing her bottom hole.
She turned away before she was caught, and stared at the tent flap, the sensations in her body crashing together as waves. Her cheeks burned.
Sedrak seemed unperturbed by her reaction. Twisting the thing, he pressed the tip into her.
“Ah!” she cried as it stretched her. She dug her hands into the furs. Surely this was so very wrong, so dirty… but she must please him, she had no choice.
Another stinging slap landed on her bottom.
“Relax, woman,” Sedrak muttered.
Leola wanted to obey, but she could not control her body. “I do not… I do not know how,” she admitted. Her skin was damp with sweat from the effort.
She had expected a gruff command, or another spanking, but Sedrak’s hand landed on her lower back and pushed gently down. His fingers traced a circle around her stretched skin, and she shivered.
“You must push out, and that will allow you to take this in,” he explained, almost patiently.
Breathing quickly, Leola released the muscles keeping the thing from entering.
He pushed it in deeper.
Her toes splayed as it stretched her, its girth opening her backside and pressing deeper still.
The beads of sweat that had formed at her temple now slid down her cheeks, as she concentrated on pushing out, as he had instructed. A desire to please him had overcome her yet again, a desire not born purely of her wish to avoid being punished. For when she thought of punishment, her cunny squeezed with the peculiar, not entirely unpleasant feeling.
Sedrak clapped a hand on her ass, twisted the thing, and with a final push drove it in until the flange settled against her backside. He patted her ass.
This time when she blushed it was partly at the shame and humiliation of being probed like an animal. But part of the reaction came from the tender way he lauded her acceptance of the implement. His touch still rough but far gentler than it had been.
“My, that’s pretty,” he muttered, standing up.
She didn’t dare move, waiting for his next command instead.
He stepped around to face her and offered a hand.
Reaching up she took it. But when she tried to stand she found the pressure in her backside nearly unbearable. “I don’t… Master, I don’t know if I can…”
“Quiet. Stand,” he said. Grabbing both her hands he hauled her to her feet.
The thing made standing equally difficult. She squirmed and turned, trying to find a position where it didn’t press on the inside of her quite so much. Every movement caused it to make contact with a part inside of her that ached like her pussy, strangely, pleasantly, sorely.
She finally settled on rolling onto the balls of her feet and pressing her bottom out into the air behind her. It was the only position that she could bear for more than a moment.
Sedrak watched her make the adjustments. He rubbed his chin. “You like a plug in your bottom?” he asked.
“Yes, Master.” She knew this to be the only acceptable answer, and yet her words were not entirely a lie. She knew it was dirty and wrong, and being forced to admit that she liked it made the cool arousal in her lower abdomen twist yet again. As she stood there, making the tiniest adjustments, the plug inside of her massaged her deep in her bottom, setting her body on fire.
Sedrak’s eyes wandered over her body again. They paused at her breasts. He lifted his hands and cupped them, making her blush again. When he saw her reaction his cock lurched between his legs. “You wear your shame well,” he stated in his labored Southern dialect.
But suddenly, he yelled, “Barval!”
The tent flap lifted and the man who’d led her from her cage stepped in.
Suddenly the spell was broken. Now it wasn’t just her and the gruff warrior king. Now this… this other man could clearly see what was sticking out of her bottom. Did he know how she’d been used? Did he know what Sedrak’s hand had done between her legs?
“Yes, my lord,” Barval said, bowing his head. He seemed only remotely interested in what was taking place.
Sedrak picked his loincloth off the ground, wrapped it around his waist, and belted it. His stern expression had returned. He grabbed her hair and tipped her head to one side then licked her neck. “Take her to her cage.” To Leola he murmured, “I wish to make you endure this plug, and the desire it brings to you.”
Barval grabbed the fur he’d walked her over in. Draping it around her shoulders he took the leash from Sedrak and clipped it to the collar around her neck. But when he jerked it, causing her to stumble forward, Sedrak growled something in his language.
Barval bowed again and murmured something in an apologetic and acquiescent tone. When he pulled on the leash again, he tugged it gently.
She teetered forward on her tiptoes. It was all she could do to walk, the plug stuck firmly within her pressing on her insides. As they stepped from the tent she thought she might drown in humiliation.
Men had gathered near Sedrak’s tent, and were staring at her as Barval led her toward the cage. They laughed and joked, pointing at the way she walked, as if on stilts. Her face flushed hot and red and she looked down at the ground trying to ignore their leers and pretend they weren’t there.
“She liked it,” someone hooted, in a low, hungry voice.
“Look at her nipples. Stiff as pebbles. A filthy princess has been made.”
The crowd burst out cackling.
Suddenly all the warmth and excitement she’d felt inside the tent was gone. All that was left was the cold ground beneath her feet, men laughing all around her, and the knowledge that this was now her station in life.
She’d never felt such relief as when she crawled back into the cage.
She swore she’d never let herself feel another hint of pleasure at the warrior’s touch again.
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