Continues from Slave Tales: The Hunt (XXVII) – “Atonement”
Image – Roberto Ferri
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The River’s Invitation.
I’d met him by the river. He was the first man I’d come across after the slave hunt started. I’d been running through the fields and had found a place to shelter on a ridge overlooking the river. He was wading upstream toward me, entirely naked. At first I’d taken him for another slave on the run but then as he got closer I realised he was no ordinary slave, if he was even one at all.
Owner of a powerful and beautifully sculpted physique, he strode forward purposefully against the current which at times rose up to the top of his thighs. He had the determined air of one who would stop at nothing. Nor let anything stop him. There was something of the noble savage about him. Wild and dangerous looking. He seemed fearless. This both fascinated and attracted me enormously and I watched him with in a growing state of excited anticipation as he slowly moved upstream, his golden tanned torso swaying gracefully with each stride.
I wondered if he were a talisman. A sign from the gods. A vision of male beauty placed there deliberately for my eyes to behold and revel in. A portent of good luck.
Or perhaps he was a siren. A gorgeous beauty sent by demons to distract me from the task my Mistress had set me – to surrender to a Master at the slave seminary.
He was getting close now. I held my breath and gazed at him as the lapping waters splashed against his gorgeous succulent cock – almost as if in tribute, like handmaidens scattering flowers in the path of a royal prince.
In my sex I desired nothing more to surrender myself to him right there and then, but I held back. Just in case. My Mistress had given me strict instructions to to make my way to the the seminary without delay so for the moment I decided to keep down and continue observing him.
From the ridge I had the perfect position to watch him. He rose from the waters and stood quite still for a moment as if testing the air. He was tall, long-limbed and sinuously muscled. Wavy locks of damp hair fell nonchalantly over his brow which lent him a look of adolescent insouciance. However this was betrayed by his physique which, I judged to be that of a man perhaps in his late 20s or early 30s. Certainly in his prime.
To me he seemed like some statuesque god of nature. Just like the statues I had seen a few days before in the city of Thanasius. His perfectly crafted torso glistened wet in the morning sunlight and his cock was long, wet, potent. Without thinking my hand reached for my pussy and my fingers caressed and rubbed gently at my sex imagining what he might do with me were he to capture me. Would he be very angry if he discovered me secretly observing him? Would he punish me terribly? Take me over those firm muscular thighs and spank me until my bottom was afire and I wriggled and screeched begging him for mercy? He’d have to be very firm with me. Using all his strength to keep me down. His hand upon my neck, squeezing me hard as his other hand delivered blow after merciless blow to my poor defenseless naked buttocks.
Just as I was shifting to get more comfortable my leg brushed against a rock and some earth and stones tumbled noisily over the edge and into the river.
The will of the gods.
He looked up. His body tensed and then remained quite still, as if he were sensing the air. He knew I was here. I had no choice now. I stood up very slowly and revealed myself. At first he did nothing but I saw him glance quickly over my nakedness with evident pleasure. He smiled and beckoned me down to where he was standing. I approached and started to kneel before him but he stepped forward and took me by the hand. Then he put his arms around me and embraced me. I rested my head against his damp chest and inhaled the perfume of fresh river water on his wet skin. I raised my hand to his breast, his nipples were hard, dark and senusous. Without thinking I put my arms around his back and fully embraced the smooth sinewy hardness of his body. I could feel his cock rising, pressing into my belly and suddenly very aroused I closed my eyes and ran my fingers down his back pulling him toward me. My senses imbibed the very essence of him. The wonder of his manhood. And I just melted. Right there in his arms.
He was so tall. His body seemed huge. So powerful. Too powerful maybe. His arms engulfed me and I felt so very small. Like a bird. Or an insect. Something he might easily crush if it displeased him. I looked up suddenly. His eyes were shining. There was warmth there. Desire too. Those eyes. You could bathe in them. They were so blue. Infinitely so. Like the sea or the sky. I sensed a whole universe of pleasure being conjured for me and I imagined myself bathing in strange tides that might easily set me adrift or lead me into perils unknown. I could be drowned. Lost forever. Suddenly I felt very dizzy and my legs failed me and I fell against his chest. He caught me in his arms and then I knew – suddenly and very surely – that I would be safe with him. His powerful arms felt like a haven. He had come to protect me. Yes. The gods had sent him. I pulled him closer to me, my arms squeezing tight into the firm solid wall of his back and shoulders, and I breathed in deeply, inhaling him, imbibing his rich potency.
Image – Eduard Veith
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The River’s Sacrament
I took his cock in my hand and sank slowly to my knees. It tasted like no other. Fresh, pure and sweet, like the river itself. I drew hard on its thick stem, my tongue flicking greedily under the tip, sucking the juices from it, savoring them with a hunger that was hitherto quite unknown to me. He stroked my cheek for a moment and then placed his hand under my chin. I was gasping but I looked up to see if I was pleasing him and Gods my spirit soared at the wonder of his silent approving gaze. My sex yearned only to please him. To have him accept me and take me, tenderly or brutally, I didn’t care. I wanted to be his. His catch. His prize. His.
Without a word, he took me by the hand and led me down to the river bank. He laid me flat upon my back, with my head resting at the water’s edge. He wrapped his large hand around my wrists and pulled my arms above my head, stretching them fully into the water. He pushed my head just under the surface until my hair was entirely wet, my locks flowing as one with the the river itself. The currents swelled and flowed over my shoulders, covering my breasts and tickling my belly. It reached my neck and splashed into my mouth and I started to panic. I could feel myself drowning. I struggled but he refused to let me go and, squeezing tightly at my wrists, pushed down on me even harder until I was all but submerged.
Image – Edward John Poynter
I could not move now and the river – flowing, vital, enormous – penetrated my sex. Its hot rapid currents surged and pounded and completely overwhelmed me. I was drowning. Yes. But drowning in an ecstasy that was almost unbearable. I cried out to him but he just continued to gaze at me, watching me, taking his pleasure at my helplessness as I was swept away by the sheer intensity of the currents which assailed me. My entire body was shaking, awash in ecstasy. A torrent rose and soared and pounded within me and whipped mercilessly at my flesh. A rushing swirling ocean that was so enormous, so deep, and so overwhelming that I desired – no, I was desperate to be – lost forever within its rage and roar.
I was screaming. Unbearable pleasure-pain. He held me down fast and I had no control over myself at all. I thought I was going to explode, my flesh stripped and torn from me into tiny pieces. However much I struggled and cried out still he would not let me go. Utterly merciless. Those eyes, that cool gaze, it was the only thing of which I could be certain now, the only thing keeping me together. He was all there was. My sun. My ruler. My lord. I was just clay. Putty in his hands. Hands that held me captive only to conspire my liberation. Hands that worked me. Whipped me. Forged me. Created me.
So immense was the force with which he had taken me that afterwards I felt utterly cleansed by it. Purified even. As if he really had fucked me to my soul. The selfish “I” had been completely nullified. Just as I had been taught at the slave seminary. A true pleasure slave has no ego. No self. My body exists only to serve others. The pleasure of a Master is all a slave aspires to. If a Master chooses to give a slave a whipping then so be it. That is his whim. His pleasure. And therefore it must also be the slave’s. And there was no greater pleasure than this. I knew with absolute certainty that this was the truth. My true path. A holy path. The way the gods had ordained us to be. And like the ocean the Riverman had washed away all the sin in me. He had penetrated me to my very essence and reminded me of my true self. He had shown me the real me. The me that was always naked. Always pure. Always holy.
My true essence.
My servitude.
Image – Claude Marie Dubufe
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The River’s Blessing
Afterwards I’d felt like I’d awoken from a dream. I felt like a piece of heavy driftwood washed up on a desert shore. Gods, what had he done to me? My body felt heavy and weighted down and my mind was reluctant and slow to rouse itself. The world seemed changed, reorganized, reset somehow. Even time seemed jagged and disjointed. As if its natural flow had been changed or slowed. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to remain forever in those warm currents. I groaned. He slapped me a few times and drowsily I reached out for the haven of his body but he shoved me away roughly and then turned me over and smacked my bare bottom hard.
Why was he doing this to me? Master, I beg you… But he stood up sharply and ordered me to leave. And quickly. He even slapped my cheek. I stared at him blankly for a moment and then realized. A cruel awakening. Horses were coming. The slave hunters. I had to escape. They were coming for me. I had no time to think and by the time I had my wits about me and had started running, he’d disappeared.
I’m pretty sure that I saw him again in the forest, at least a couple of times, later in the day. But always lurking in the distance. One moment he was there and then he’d be gone. I wondered if he had he been following me. Watching me for some reason.
Why he had stolen me from the slave hunters’ camp last night was a mystery to me. Had it also been his purpose to take Melody and the Gladiator too? The more I thought about it the more curious I was. And what were we doing here by the river anyway? Were we waiting for someone to join us and to whom we would be delivered? Or had he just captured us for his own amusement and we were simply just hiding here. The hunters would have regrouped by now and there would be parties out looking for us. If they caught us – as runaway slaves – their revenge on us would not be pleasant.
So at the moment he was the only thing standing between us and the dreadful tortures that surely awaited us if they found us. We needed him. Our lord and protector.
Suddenly I remembered how he’d questioned me when I had called him Master. He’d said, almost nonchalantly, “So I am your Master now, am I?”, as if it didn’t matter very much to him one way or the other. And just now he’d told me he had released me. That was a strange word. To what, I wondered, could he release us to?
Any way, all I could be sure of was my desire for him. I wanted him. And badly. I wanted to feel those strong hands forcing me down again and his hard cock thrusting into me. And once more I would be lost to him. And for that one single sublime precious moment of obliteration I would look into his face as see the pleasure there and know for sure that my body meant everything to him and that I was the source of the most unbearable and intense ecstasy he had ever known.
I was that pleasure. That was my purpose. And for it I would consent to anything. Absolutely anything.
Image – Albert von Keller
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The River’s Reward
As if reading my thoughts he suddenly looked up and stared right at me. His knife ceased its labor and the spearhead, now all but finished, glistened and flashed like a beacon in the morning sunlight. His look was quizzical, bemused, the spear remained immobile, temporarily forgotten, waylaid by his sudden curiosity and interest in me. I stared boldly back at him. Answering the question in his gaze.
Placing the spear flatly on his lap he said, “I commend your sentiments toward your slave sister. Your purpose was to protect her and keep her out of harm’s way. But as a Thanasian slave you must admit your behavior at the camp was not what one would have expected.”
He was right of course. I had panicked and lost control. I had given into my fear. That was unforgivable in a seminary slave. He looked down at me as I knelt before him and for a very brief moment his eyes descended to my breasts and then to my exposed sex and I immediately sensed the powerful lust he had for me and I felt a kind of hot shiver of pleasure all through me. Was he going to punish me? Spank me? Whip me? The hairs on the back of my neck stood up just thinking about it and my sex – and even my ass – seemed to tingle in heightened anticipation. I leaned forward sightly, lowering my head and inched my thighs apart a little more, exposing my sex even more. Could he smell it? Yes. He must. He must know. I was his. All his. And I wanted it plain to see. Oh Master. Yes. Punish me. Give me what I need…
“So you agree that some kind of rectification is due, no?”
My heart was racing but I kept my head bowed and said very slowly, meekly, almost pleading, “Oh yes, Sir, of course, Sir. May it please Sir to punish His slave as He sees fit.”
But my mind was galloping. My desire was so intense that it was almost too much to bear now. It was like an ache. A sharp hot pain burning inside me. It rose up from my sex roared through the pit of my stomach and reached up even to my breasts. Breasts that were hungry, inconsolable and barren from the lack of his touch. My nipples were engorged. Hot and red. Two hard juicy berries for his mouth to suckle. I wanted him to bite me. Slap me. I just wanted feel him on me. Gods, please let it be soon. The whip. A spanking. Anything. I needed it so much. His hands upon me. Rough. Hard. He’d be quite merciless. Cruel even. Containing me. Disciplining me. If not then soon I would surely explode. Then properly punished with my ass burning in fiery red retribution he would take his due and plunge his mighty cock into me and fuck me hard and feverishly, my fingers clawing into his flesh, drawing him further into me, harder, faster… Gods…
“Very well. Look at me now.”
Flushed and red-faced I stared up at him. I think I was trembling. I could barely control myself…
Had he noticed? Gods, how could he not? Yet still he spoke unhurriedly, evenly.
“I believe you meant well. Your… “, he paused as if searching for the right word. There was an air of feigned mockery about him now. “Your boldness”, he smiled, “Shall we call it that? Your boldness was caused only by your affection for your slave sister, is that not so?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I could only feel. Feel the warm air sensuously caressing my breasts, softly brushing over my thighs and laying soft teasing kisses upon my sex. The morning was magnificent and full of sun and life and beauty and all I wanted now was his fierce hammer cock pounding away within me. My cunt brimming with the joyful exhilaration of his cock filling me up with his life juice. His spunk. His manhood. My cunt overflowing. Overwhelmed. Overcome…
I wanted him. I wanted him…
Now.
Please…
Image – Roberto Ferri
“So be it”
He stood up and tore away his loin cloth to reveal a gorgeous firm golden tanned cock set perfectly above two majestic thighs. I leaned forward. Desperate to touch it. But at that moment he looked up and and intoning some words I did not understand he raised his spear to the sky. His tool. His offering. For the gods to bless. It was beautiful, its upraised perfectly sharpened tip sparkled hot and fiery. Ready to lay its prey to waste.
Gods, I was soaking wet. I couldn’t breathe. I felt faint. Trembling. A unbearable ticklish tingling in my pussy. A growing wave of hot pleasure. Then another. Gods, I was starting to come…
“Go now. Leave us.”
What?
“Bathe, cleanse yourself in the river. Return in one hour when the sun is over those trees.”
But…
“Your slave-sister too.”
No! No! Wait. My mind raced in confusion and my sex – my inflamed and ravenous sex – howled and roared in desperate frustration.
But he’d already turned away from me and had started talking to Melody and the gladiator. Rousing them after their lovemaking. They’d been lying languidly in each others arms all this time, Melody’s head resting on the boy’s chest. Eyes closed. A beautiful but, for me, sickeningly enviable picture of post coital contentedness that did nothing but add to my torment.
Gods, was he doing this deliberately? Doing it to make me angry? Provoking me?
Curse him. Damn him. I felt so frustrated I wanted to kick him.
He had his back to me. His perfect succulent bare ass on display. I couldn’t help but stare at it. Full and smooth and soft and tanned. Gods I wanted it so much. Now. Please….
My hand moved. Just to touch it…
Suddenly a wave of anger shot through me. Gods, I’d smack that ass damned hard if I could. And be more than happy to be flogged for it right now.
Is that want he wanted? Yes, of course. Oh yes, Master please whip me now… punish me… I’m so sorry… whip me hard… fifty times… a hundred times… let me feel the power of those sinuous steely muscles upon my poor defenseless body. Whip me hard. Make me beg. Make me cry and moan for you until I can take no more. I’m so sorry. Make me worthy. I’ll do anything… whatever you want.. oh please…
Anything…
I howled to the sky. A she-wolf’s howl. It just came right out of me. From the depths of my own starving lonely sex. He must have heard me. But still he didn’t turn. No reaction at all. I simply didn’t exist. He had turned his attention elsewhere. I felt desolate. There was only pain. The real kind. The pain of absence and emptiness. It was as if I was in a nightmare. Melody looked at me and started to get up but the Riverman made a gesture and she quickly and very obediently dropped to her knees. He continued talking in a low voice to the gladiator. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but I knew they were talking about me. Both he and Melody kept stealing concerned glances at me .
Then, in a much louder voice – one I was obviously meant to hear – the Riverman ordered the gladiator up to his feet.
“You’re coming with me. We have fish to catch.”
After which he finally turned to me.
“We will eat in one hour. And then we shall deal with you.”
He was smiling now. His tone was playful. Almost mocking. I said nothing. Just looked up at him. All three of them were staring right at me..
“A little punishment for this slave perhaps? Now, what should it be?”
He put his hand to his chin as if pondering an amusing conundrum.
“She has a debt to pay.What does she owe us?” He spoke as if he were including Melody and the gladiator in his deliberations. Would they too then participate in my punishment? I closed my eyes barely able to contain myself and waited for him to finish.
“There was an offense. But perhaps more importantly, we should consider what she owes herself. What does every pretty little slave need? What does she really want? Deep down. In her innermost secret desires.”
Deadly serious now. I sensed those piercing blue eyes lingering over my nakedness and I heard the firmness in his voice and felt utterly exhilarated by it. I relished the thought of what was to come. He was going to make me pay. No pleasure without pain. And that pleasure is the most delicious and intense of reward of all.
“Look at her. Naked. So vulnerable and desirable. And her sex. Untamed. So lusty. So wild and wanton. But, by her own admission, the slave has become uncontrollable and undisciplined. She has committed the sin of ego. Now, what does that merit?”
Everything seemed to stop. Not a thing stirred. The forest was silent. Absolutely still. As if on tenterhooks. Awaiting his reply.
And then he said it. The words I had been longing to hear.
“A spanking. A good hard spanking.”
I gasped. Yes. My heart was galloping like a runaway horse.
Then he turned to Melody who was still kneeling at his feet and said, “Take her now. Hurry. Prepare this selfish slave for the spanking of her life.”
Yes… Oh Gods, thank you. Yes… Yes …
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To be continued
