Continues from Slave Tales: The Hunt (XVI)
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“Wake up! The hunters are coming.”
Enveloped within her arms, my body nestled in the warm luxury of her silky-smooth flesh. My head lay at her breasts; the softest pillow for the weariest soul. I was dreaming the gods had answered my prayers and all my dreams and desires were being fulfilled within her.
“Bella. Wake up!”
My mind plummeted from that miraculous netherworld and I was jolted into consciousness. I opened my eyes and immediately saw a woman and two guards striding towards our cage. They were carrying whips. I jumped up and quickly whispered to Melody, “Remember what I said. Be passive and don’t fear the whip. Revel in it. You are beautiful.” Then I kissed her one last time.
“Why, you little sluts!” One of the guards was shouting at us. It was the same one who’d tried to use me by the river. “Look at them. They’ve been fucking. The bitches can’t keep out of each other’s pussies.”
The guard unlocked the cage and threw the door open. He whipped our legs and asses with his riding crop and shouted, “Out you cunts! Now!”
We scrambled out and immediately knelt before them. Both of us instinctively assumed the humble slave position; heads down with our arms stretched out before us on the ground, as if in supplication.
The Mistress spoke, “What is the meaning of this? Who gave you permission to pleasure each other?”
She was tall with a thin angular face. A high-collared velvet cloak hung upon her shoulders and reached almost to the ground. Underneath it she was naked. The front was unbuttoned and when she moved the smooth sheen of her sinewy athletic body was magnificently displayed.
“Mistress, I beg you. The fault is mine. I desired her and couldn’t resist her. I beg forgiveness. May it please the Mistress, punish me.”
I had not been given direct permission to speak but I wanted to deflect any anger or violence away from Meli. I glanced around quickly. All the slave girls were awake now and watching us from their cages. The hunters were going to make a show of us. A public spectacle. We were to be punished as a warning to the other slaves.
The Mistress approached me and grabbed my chin to get a closer look at my face. Her long black hair fell past the collar and her eyes were as dark and as chilling as her demeanor. I guessed she was the hunters’ Tormentrix.
Many hunting parties use a Tormentrix to tease and play with the slaves once they’ve been captured. After the exertions of the hunt the Masters are always keen to play with their new slave toys. They want to learn a few new tricks and see a good show. A good Tormentrix will give it to them. Many are very highly skilled at their art and have been trained in the slave seminaries by Confessors. Some are even ex Confessors who left the vocation because their own personal tastes veered away from the strict Master / slave protocols that seminaries insist on.
Tormentrixes are very highly skilled (and highly paid) and can take a slave to the threshold of pleasure-pain and well beyond. It’s been known for victims to become hopelessly devoted to them, willing submissives addicted to the particular kind of humiliation and excruciating ecstasy only a highly trained Tormentrix can administer.
She was standing over me. I kept my eyes down. I dared not look up at her but I sensed her dark eyes boring into me. She would be inspecting every aspect of my nakedness to see what sport she could have with me. The hunters already considered me a runaway and now I had been caught red-handed doing what no slave should ever do without permission of a Master. I would also be seen as a corrupter of slaves. My need for discipline and training would be beyond dispute. The Tormentrix had more than enough ammunition to practise her sadistic arts on me and I sensed her keenness to do so quite plainly as she tapped the cane roughly against my breasts and barked the order, “Up!”
I obeyed but made sure to keep my eyes lowered.
She grabbed my breasts and squeezed them hard. Her sharp claw-like fingernails dug into my nipples and tore and yanked at them in a deliberate attempt to make me cry out.
“A perky little slut aren’t you?”
She yanked me forward by my nipples and I fell flat on the ground. She laughed and the guard behind me suddenly shouted at me to raise my ass. The Tormentrix stepped back as the guard whipped me with a flogger. The lashes fell rapidly one after another. I lost count as they rained down like splashes of molten fire all over my back and buttocks. It was vicious. And deliberately so. This guard was the hunter to whom I’d been denied at the river. Now he was having his revenge.
“Spread your legs!” He stood over me as I crouched kneeling on the ground. Then he whipped me from above so that the long strips of leather curled between my thighs and bit and chewed into my pussy. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. My sex was in flames. I wanted to scream but I dared not move.
And still they were only playing with me.
Image – unknown
Finally the Tormentrix raised her hand and the guard stopped.
Then, leaning over me, she pulled me up by my hair and stared into my eyes. She slowly ran her fingers over my skin and pinched at my crimson buttocks. She scrutinized me like a chef with a piece of red meat being roasted in an oven. Was I done or did I need a few minutes more?
She brought her face close to mine. I thought she was going to kiss me. I was still breathless and trembling from the beating and she put her arms around me and hugged me tightly. Suddenly she became very tender. She caressed me and whispered very softly, “Shh now pretty slave… It’s alright now… There’s a good girl…”
Her voice sounded very calm and so kind. Like a mother talking to a weeping child who’d just cut her knee.
I sensed the delight she was taking in her role and couldn’t help but respond to it. The soft warm tones of her voice mesmerized me after the savageness of the beating and once more my sex became aroused.
I looked into her eyes seeking only her favor. She had beaten me. I was her novice now. Another disciple to be forged in the immaculate cruelty of her love.
She was staring at me. Her eyes sparkled.
“Punishment?” She whispered, “Do you still think this is punishment?”
She laughed and stroked my cheek. “No, pretty slave. You’re not here for punishment.”
Looking up at the two guards she said, “Isn’t that right boys?”
She smiled, “You’re here for fun.”
And then quick as a flash her eyes darted at mine, “Ours.”
The guards laughed. Then her mood suddenly changed and she stood up. Almost angrily she said, “A hungry cunt like yours needs to be owned, disciplined, controlled. We can’t have you going round corrupting all the other slaves now can we? Look at that poor innocent girl there.”
She pointed at Meli with her whip. She had been kneeling motionless and silent throughout my ordeal. My heart reached out for her. She would be scared senseless. I longed to touch her, just to… hold her hand.
“Look at the way she’s cowering on the ground. She’ll need to be punished as well. And you’re the one to blame aren’t you?”
“Mistress, yes Mistress.”
She nodded. “Why did you try to run away from us?”
“Mistress, I was confused and lost in the forest and it was getting dark…”
She slapped me on the cheek. “Don’t lie. You were deliberately running away. Why?”
“Mistress… I beg you. I’m speaking the truth… I am just a poor slave girl… from the house of Mistress Theia. I heard the dogs… I was confused… Mistress… I beg you… I only wish to please…”
She laughed again, now her tone was cruelly sarcastic, “Oh guards, did you hear that? The poor confused little slave girl only wishes to please.”
The pair of them guffawed a little too enthusiastically and she ignored them. “Oh you will please us. You can be sure of that. But I wonder who it is you wish to please most? Us? Or that pretty little slave cunt on the ground there?”
Behind me one of the guards said in a low voice, “Don’t worry. She‘ll be pleasing my cock soon enough.”
If she heard the comment she did not show it. “And when you were savoring the slave girl’s pussy were you actually pleasing her or were you just pleasing yourself?”
Again one of the guards piped in, “Pleasing each other I reckon. Little sluts.”
“Well? That’s the truth, isn’t it? You’re a selfish little slut that only wants to please herself.”
She prodded my breasts with her riding crop. “Well? Aren’t you?”
“Oh Mistress. I am weak. I cannot control the hunger in my sex. May it please the Mistress to teach me.”
“Teach you? Oh yes!” She laughed loudly and the amusement in her voice now sounded quite genuine. “Some severe “teaching” is in order for both of you.”
Then she raised her voice to the guards, “These two slaves need to be reminded of who their cunts actually belong to.”
But of course she wasn’t just saying it to the guards. It was a warning aimed at all the the slaves present – the girls in their cages and the boys chained to the post.
Then it occurred to me that I had a card to play and now was the time to play it. I thought if they knew I was a seminary slave they might leave Meli alone and just concentrate on me.
After all I was a Thanassian Seminary slave. An object of quite some value. And a prize to many. We too are highly skilled. A Thanasian pleasure slave is famous the world over the ways we can pleasure a Master. If they really were pirates and were going to sell us at market then I would fetch them a good price.
Of course they would want to test my claim. And that would make me the center of attention and leave Meli safely out of the spotlight.
It was worth a try. After all what did I have to lose?
“Mistress, may it please the Mistress, I am a slave trained at the seminary here in Thanassius. I have been trained to please my Masters. It is all I know. It is my faith.”
There was a short silence. As I had expected.
“You are from the seminary here?” Her surprise was plain.
I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
“I don’t believe you. A seminary slave would never run away.”
I remained silent.
“Look at me.” She studied me for a moment and then said, “I studied at the seminary in Pelania. I was trained as a Confessor there.”
She continued to stare into my eyes, searching for the truth. Then, as if it were a further test, she placed her hand at my pussy. “Hmm… Wet. You desire me eh?” I felt her fingers enter me. “Well, the whip certainly favors you. I’ll say that.”
She pinched gently and tugged at my clitoris. I closed my eyes. “No!” She shouted. “Look at me!” Her fingers continued to probe within me and delved ever deeper. I couldn’t help but succumb to the pleasure they were mining within me. She was claiming my sex. Owning it. Owning me. And yes, I wanted it…
“Keep your eyes on me. I forbid you to look away or close them. You will remember my face and never forget it. I am the Mistress of all your desires and I will keep your sex as my own.”
And then, as if closing it with her seal, she pressed the hot palm of her hand against my pussy. I couldn’t have taken my eyes from her now if I’d wanted to. Her lips were so close to mine. I wanted to taste them. I looked up to her. She smiled. She knew. She had me.
But then she moved her head away suddenly and laughed, teasing me, “Oh you want me do you? Pretty little slave always wants to come for her Mistress doesn’t she? So submissive when the pleasure is all hers eh?”
Then she slapped my pussy. “Mine. And only for use when I say so.”
She considered me again. “There is something about you though… a willingness… you have a certain grace too. ”
Her fingers returned to my pussy and resumed their gentle pirouettes.
“A slave’s grace. The whip brings out your beauty. Yours could be a very beautiful submission….”
She smiled again and withdrew her hand. She placed her wet fingers to her lips. Laughing, she licked each one them slowly in turn. Teasing me.
“Does the pretty little slave want to beg me for something?”
And as my sex raged within me she suddenly stood up and left me on my knees. I looked up at her. My sex implored her return.
She was addressing a gathering crowd of Masters. They were all looking at me. The news had obviously spread.
“She is ready. There is a possibility the slave might be speaking the truth. What she says will have to be tested.”
She turned back to me. “You realize of course that if you fail or are found to be lying I will feed you to these dogs with no compunction whatsoever and there will be nothing left of your pretty slave cunt by morning?”
Some of the Masters cheered.
“Mistress, I beg you. I am speaking the truth.”
“So, if you are a seminary slave you will be a aware of the test known as the Kiss of the Cane of Pelania?”
I gasped. It was infamous.
“Very well. Guards, restrain her.”
Continues Slave Tales: The Hunt (XVIII)