Continues from Slave Tales: The Hunt (XIII)
Master Xiron’s potion had heightened my sensual awareness but I was almost devoid of any rational thought. Time registered with me as something nebulous and unimportant and I felt I was in a dream.
My senses were raging but another part of me felt very calm. It was almost as if I’d split into two people. One part of me had been banished and was floating outside of myself, coolly observing my predicament with indifference, and perhaps even disdain, but my body – my skin, my nipples, my pussy, oh especially my pussy – seemed to be tingling with life. I was overcharged with sexual energy, way beyond capacity, and it was so intense, so powerful, so overwhelming, that I felt I would burn up or even explode if I didn’t find some kind of release for it soon.
And to add to my frenzy, the rope at my pussy was gnawing relentlessly into me. Firm and slithery, it felt like a hungry monster devouring my acquiescent sex. Whatever it had been soaked in had turned my clitoris hot and hard and huge. If only the rope were a cock. I so wanted a hard cock. A man-cock! I would ride the man-cock deep within me and its beautiful scorching violence would set me free. It would strike hard at my sex and whip the flames and we would soar and burn and dance and scream and fuck in fiery holy rapture until all that remained were ashes and dreams…
“Alena! Look at that tree! My Gods! It looks like one of Master Xiron’s works.”
Tonaius turned around and gestured eagerly at his lover. Alena approached and drew her horse up level with his and for a few moments they both remained still, silent, and utterly transfixed by what they saw.
It was a naked female slave bound in rope and suspended, as if she were caught in a trap, from the branches of a tree. Her body had been artfully posed in a way that was designed to enchant, arouse and invite.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
It was more of an exclamation than a question and, fascinated, Tonaius dismounted and quickly walked over to the tree to take a closer look.
Alena felt utterly stunned by it. What she was looking at was like a dream. It was as if all her subconscious desires and fantasies had manifested themselves in this one single vision which, by grace of the Gods, had now been presented to her.
_ _ _
They had met at the Sexual Arts Faculty at the University of Wilhelm the previous year and had immediately become lovers. Alena had a long mane of red hair which Tonaius thought made her look like a proud lioness. Her character too was very leonine – strong willed, passionate and often insatiable – and Tonaius had fallen for her straight away.
On horseback, in a long dark riding skirt split to the top of her thighs to free her long graceful legs, she seemed almost regal. But there was also something primal about her. She radiated a mysterious dark sensuality which in the years to come many suitors would be wholly consumed by.
Her blouse was unbuttoned low and revealed a beautiful silver necklace and pendant hanging between her breasts. She had designed the pendant herself and had decorated it with a magical runic symbol which she believed protected her and brought her luck.
Tonaius was tall, muscular and bare-chested. Both his nipples were pierced – at Alena’s insistence – and his torso was covered in similar runic tattoos which she had also designed for him. She called him her muse and her beloved canvas. His love for her was deep and entirely submissive.
Some might have found their gothic attire rather sombre and strange but underneath it there was an air of innocent joviality and barely repressed youthful excitement about them. Neither was yet out of their teens and this was their first time on the slave hunt. It had been a dream of Alena’s to come for years; the hunt was something she had been fascinated by ever since she’d read about it as a young girl and become obsessed with whips, swordplay and jousting.
When she was younger she’d gone every summer with her mother and father to stay on her grandparents’ farm. One year, she’d begged her grandfather to let her watch him whip the farm slaves in the barn on punishment days. He’d laughed and shown her how to use the whip properly – both as an instrument of punishment and as a source of pleasure. He said whipping was an art and a skilled whipmaster took the slave to the edge of pain, kept them there and then what took place between them was like an act of love. He’d even given her a boy slave of her own age to practise on. She’d whipped him every morning and quickly learnt there was no greater pleasure. By the end of the summer she’d made a man of him.
So this year, as the day of the Slave Hunt also coincided with her 19th birthday, Tonaius had planned and arranged the whole trip to Thanasius as a special treat for her.
Alena continued staring at the girl. She believed a woman’s body was far more aesthetically pleasing than a man’s and this girl was in her prime. She was young – probably only a little older than her – tanned with very good firm thighs and beautiful dark flowing hair. As a model for the Master Xiron’s art she was perfect. He must have been overjoyed to find her.
Her eyes lingered on the soft curving outlines of the girl’s silhouette set against the late afternoon sun. Her long flowing hair had been tied back and her head and arms had been raised as if in supplication to some higher power. She looked like a young martyr suffering for a cause or a prisoner begging for clemency.
The torso had been pushed slightly forward and up so as to emphasize the martyr effect but also to fully expose the breasts which, to Alena, seemed like two beautiful flowers in bloom, each one containing the dark red bud of a firm, juicy nipple.
She really admired the way Master Xiron had set her out for display. There was the hint of captured game which was… so arousing. But he had also emphasized, not just her physical beauty and vulnerability, but somehow added an air of innocent purity. She looked virgin. Ripe. A fruit about to fall.
She couldn’t take her eyes off her. She didn’t seem real. And it was only the slow and gentle rising and falling movement of her ribs under that luscious, tanned and tightly stretched skin that revealed her to be a living breathing being at all. That’s why it was so beautiful. She was alive. Not just some dead sculpture.
And if she was captured game, she wasn’t just some ordinary prey like a rabbit or a fox. This was the desperate beauty of a wild young animal caught in a trap. It was suffering, begging, pleading for release.
Alena thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
She exhaled quickly and suddenly noticed her heart was pounding. Her hands were trembling so much she could barely grip the reins of her horse.
She closed her eyes and said a prayer of thanks to gods for this precious gift they had bestowed on her. And blessings, oh many blessings for Master Xiron. He was a true genius. And what a generous and kind man he was giving away his art for free like this. He was a saint. Yes, they should make a saint of him.
She opened her eyes again. She couldn’t believe they had been the first to find her. She felt a sudden twinge of fear and turned around. No, they had been the first. No one else could claim her now. By the rules of the hunt the slave was theirs for the rest of the day.
And she was going to use her in every way she could think of.
Oh Gods! No one could take this away from her now.
She took several deep breaths and dismounted. Already she could feel the hot wetness of anticipation seeping between her legs.
Alena inspected the ropes. Unfortunately they were going to have to cut the slave free for some of the games she had in mind but she was in no hurry for the moment. She looked over at Tonaius, “Exquisitely done, isn’t it? That takes some skill. And the way he’s tied and shaped her body. It’s so beautiful. He’s a genius. It seems awful to have to cut her down to play with.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that my love. She’d been put there for us to use after all.”
Then he added, “And of course he drugs them too. She’s aware of everything, just very… submissive. She’s bound to be loving it and dying for us to use her.”
Tonaius held the slave by her jaw and looked closely into her eyes. “Look at her pupils. She’s peaking.”
He removed his hand quickly, as if in pain, “Ouch! Extreme heat warning!”
He grinned and looked at Alena. They laughed and Tonaius felt his cock. “Any hotter and I’ll have to douse her with this.”
Alena smiled, “Let’s make her work for it first.”
She went up to Tonaius and put her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Thank you my love. This is the best birthday present anyone could ever have.”
She kissed him again, a long lingering kiss, and her hand moved slowly down to his cock. She massaged it softly and felt him surrender to her.
“Hard already eh?” She whispered, “Keep it that way for me.”
Then, with a playful tone of admonishment, she smiled and said, “And don’t forget who’s boss.”
Tonaius smiled shyly and then watched as she went back to inspecting the girl. She smiled back at him as she pinched the slave’s naked body a few times. The soft flesh, restrained tightly in the web of rope, yielded to her easily and she soon felt the craving rise in her and start to overwhelm her. And hers was a passion which, both of them knew, could be dangerously intoxicating.
She leaned down close and smelt her skin. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, slowly savoring the skin on the shoulders and back. Her aroma was unique and overpowering. Her skin was smooth, clean and fresh, she must have been in water recently, but there were also traces of … something minty… refreshing, like pine. And something sweet too? Or was it the ropes?
She pressed her lips against the girl’s upper arms and, at a snail’s pace ran her open mouth lightly against the skin on her shoulders and her neck. lingering and luxuriating on each square inch of the tender smooth flesh. She was barely touching her and it tickled her lips. The skin was so soft, so delicate…
She opened her eyes and softly bit into the girl’s neck. The body, which until then had been very still, suddenly wriggled and jerked. This just encouraged her more and she held the skin tightly between her teeth, and for a few moments she sucked on it, relishing its taste on her tongue.
Then she bent down and took hard little bites on the thighs and the belly and when the body jerked and tried to resist, it only served to increase and deepen her arousal.
She rose to pay homage to the girl’s delicate fleshy breasts and she licked them and wallowed in their tenderness. Her teeth made rapid little pinching incisions on the tip of a nipple and then, to the sound of the slave’s pathetic cries, she sucked hard on the tumescent teat, flicking at it with her tongue and biting and pulling at it with her teeth.
Then she deliberately and repeatedly bit hard into the nipple listening rapturously to the slave’s muffled screams and, in a kind of harmonic counterpoint to the desperate cries, she started to hum and moan in pleasure as she lost herself to her own sadistic ecstasy.
Finally, she moved down to the rich pungent palette of the girl’s damp sex. She closed her eyes to inhale it and the force of it overwhelmed her. She felt an intoxication that verged on euphoria and a desire that was now bordering on violence.
She wanted to fully experience every single part of her. Not just her body but also her being. She wanted to know how she experienced desire, frustration, pleasure, pain … oh she would play with her, tease her and torment her, and then finally, she would devour her. She would know her as fully and as deeply as one could ever know anyone.
It wasn’t the slave’s body she wanted now. It was her mind.
The Sacred Place
She stood up quickly, looked at the firm rounded ass and slapped it. Thwack!
Oh the sonorous beauty of flesh striking flesh.
Both cheeks. Thwack! Thwack!
She continued but now just on the right ass cheek.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack…
She listened intently to the sound of her palm striking the bulbous flesh. It was an explosion like the hard crack of a firework. It seemed fuller and more colorful than the whip’s crueler incision. Spanking was more… organic? She liked to feel the flesh at the moment it yielded to hers. The whip was more about making the subject sing and not so much about the sound of the instrument itself, although there was no denying that too was part of the pleasure.
And visually, the way the cheeks yielded and rippled to the blows was… beautiful. There was no other word for it. And the girl was obviously used to being whipped. There was an elegance there. The submission was unquestioning. Unconditional even. She sensed a willingness to be tested. To prove herself. She wanted to go beyond her limits.
So what exactly were the boundaries?
Suddenly it struck her. The girl was responding to her, consciously or otherwise urging her on. It was a dance and she wanted to be led. There was a connection between them that was true and beautiful and unique. But there was a balance too. She had a responsibility. She had to lead the girl ever deeper into her submission. That was where both of them needed to meet and become one. There was a union. A meeting in a sacred place. And she had her side of the bargain to fulfill. She had never felt this with Tonaius or the others and now the purity, perfection and utter power of the girl’s submission overwhelmed her and inspired her and invigorated her.
So with even greater force she set about the left cheek.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack…
Alena watched fascinated as the red marks started to appear and then slowly, fully consumed both continents in one enormous scorching blaze of red.
She stopped for a moment and stroked her palm. It was tingling and warm. She looked at the girl. She was twitching and moaning, gasping noisily through the gag.
Both cheeks now. Even harder.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack…
She paused and took a deep breath.
Now. With all the strength she could muster. How hard could she possibly hit her with the palm of her hand? She raised her arm…
The rhythm was steady.
The girl jerked and tore vainly at the ropes. She was starting to tremble too. Was that fear? Or the Pain? Or something else? Whatever it was it just added to the intoxication.
Finally she stopped. Breathing hard and quickly, she caressed the burning hot ass cheeks and whispered, still panting and as if to herself, “Ohhh…. Gods, she’s so good.”
Then she suddenly remembered Tonaius. She’d quite forgotten him. He was standing by the horses, watching her intently, trouser unbuttoned and stroking his erect cock, utterly spellbound by what she was doing.
She smiled at him and said, “Beautiful isn’t she?” She took a deep breath and laughed, “I wonder what her pussy tastes like.”
Her hand slipped between the slave’s thighs. Her legs had been tied in a way that stretched them apart in open invitation to her sex. Alena pulled back the rope away from the girl’s clitoris and slowly dipped her middle finger into the now fully exposed pussy.
“Wow! She’s so wet! The rope is soaking! My Gods! She’s red hot! Toni, she loves it!”
“I know. It’s the herbal mixture he gives them. It intensifies the pleasure for her. Even pain. It’s all pleasure to her. That’s all she feels. It’s all part of the art, you know, the symbolism and the ritual. She is the gift of submission.”
Alena licked the pussy juice from her fingers. Once again she contemplated the slave’s now gently swinging body. She knew there was more to it than just some magic potion. All that was doing was just amplifying what was already there to begin with.
“The most beautiful gift of all.”
Then she added, “Get the toys.”
Tonaius went over to the saddle, “OK. Technically she’s ours of course. We found her. But if you want, we can enjoy her alone for a while and then, if we don’t find any more, we could take her to one of the other teams and maybe ask them to trade her for another. I’d like to find a male.”
Tonaius’ own taste for submission did not preclude enjoying the submission of others, males in particular. He mainly enjoyed cock-whipping, especially if Alena was watching and he still had hopes of finding a subject with which to bring to life some of his own fantasies.
Alena pulled the hair back from the girl’s face. “Yes. OK. But let’s see. She so cute. I like her a lot.” She smiled, “She’ll keep us occupied for a while eh?”
However deep down she knew they wouldn’t find better today. This girl was the one. She wondered who her Master was. Lucky Master. Or Mistress. She was their gift too. What a wonderful tradition the slave hunt was. It brought people together. It emphasized the importance of sharing.
Tonaius saw the look in her eye. She seemed very taken with this one. They were going to be here for a while, he knew. Maybe even all evening. But that was alright. He loved seeing Alena so happy. His love for her was the selfless love of the submissive. Just to please her and make her happy was really all he asked.
Alena continued to explore the girl’s body. Fascinated and so aroused that she was trembling a little, she plucked at her hard pointed nipples. Then, slowly, and with increasing violence, she pinched and dug her fingernails into them and pulled hard until the girl started grunting and moaning again.
She paused for a moment and, leaning down to the girl’s agonized face, whispered, “Oh beauty, be mine. I see your light. We’ll burn together.”
She placed the lightest of kisses on her forehead. Then, tightly gripping the suspended body only by the nipples, she stood back and pulled it towards her with all her strength. She looked up at the branch from which the girl had been suspended – It was strong enough – and held the body for as long as she could with the breasts stretched and elongated and the nipples clasped tightly in the vice-like grip of her fingers and thumbs.
The girl wriggled and pulled vainly against the ropes, her head jerked from side to side and, her eyes – wide open – seemed to be pleading in shock and pain. A long line of saliva remained hanging from the gag as she screamed and begged. Alena stared directly into her imploring eyes and listened entranced. Was she singing? She was trying to. She’d remove the gag in a minute. How sweetly she’d sing then.
Then, she allowed her fingers to release the nipples. She watched as the writhing naked body swung away from her, then, at its return, she grabbed the breasts again and pulled hard once more at the nipples and waited in a kind of exultation.
She clasped the stretched nipples as tightly as she could and waited savoring each moment… waited listening to the sweet moans… waited exulting in her own power and strength… waited … then…
She let go.
Oh gods, she laughed, there was nothing like this. She felt ecstatic. Godlike.
Extraordinarily aroused by her own strength and cruelty, she felt her pussy tingling. Oh gods she was going to come now… she was going to come… no… no… wait… not yet.
Suddenly she stopped and took a deep breath. She was hot. God was she hot. She needed to strip.
She quickly removed all her clothes and threw them under the tree.
Tonaius was now sitting on the grass watching her, “Having fun are we?”
She laughed. “Oh Gods, Tonaius. When are going to have a slave of our own?”
“We will. But you know we can’t afford one just now. You have to feed and look after them, remember?”
“Yes.” She was breathless, “We’ll save. Somehow.” She gasped. “I want one. God I need one Toni. Just like her. Oh gods…” She tried to calm herself down. She had expected to enjoy today. But not this much.
“What are we going to do with her? Let’s make the most of this. We need to …”
Then suddenly lost for words she ran over to Tonaius and hugged him. “Oh thank you for this, my love. I really can’t think of a better birthday treat.” She held his face firmly in her hands and kissed him hard on the mouth.
At that moment, the slave girl emerged from the currents of her own delirium and opened her eyes. Still swinging gently in the tree, she watched as the lovers kissed and embraced on the grass. Aroused, her sex yet again reasserted its dominion over her and she started to quiver and tremble. In ever willing surrender, she closed her eyes and dived once more into the delicious searing waves that were rising and consuming her from within.
The lovers parted and the Tonaius said, “Shall I cut her down?”
“Yes. But I want her suspended by the arms. We’re going to whip her. Or rather you are. I’m going to watch.”
She went to get a flask of water from the saddle bags and sat down naked on the grass.
It was going to be a long evening and they were going to have to pace themselves.
Continues – The Hunt (X)