Babala's Correction (2 page)

 

‘The girl is one of those made ready by the Taskmaster.' The speaker was heavyset, muscular, but his stride was light and easy over the muddy ground. In one hand he held fine thongs of leather that he stroked over the bulge at his groin, barely covered by a roughly fashioned leather skirt. ‘They are trained to please a man.'

‘But this one, Graf,' said one of his three companions, ‘is different.' Young and wiry, tense in his stride, he stayed close to the older Graf. He was dressed in a short leather tunic like the others, but there was no masculine bulge between his thighs. He was nervous of their assignment to return the two women to the castle.

‘You whinge like a girl, Peli,' said another. ‘Have you thought what fun we can have when we catch them?'

‘Bart's right, and what I look forward to is to truss the Lady Fazath with her legs spread and her arms stretched high above her head, naked as the day she was born.'

‘From what I've heard, Capel,' said Peli, his voice low with nervousness, ‘she will not let a man near her, let alone make her helpless.'

Capel, a giant of a man, larger even than Graf, roared with laughter. ‘We are four. I doubt she'll best us.'

‘She is a trained warrior,' argued Peli. ‘Don't be so sure.'

‘I'll strip the bitch and splay her on the ground,' grunted Capel. ‘I'll take each tit in my mouth until she begs me to fuck her. I'll tease her. Spread her cunt lips and use the handle of my flail to open her up a little, my hearties. For as you know, my cock is the terror of all the women in Ellipsis.'

The other men, apart from Peli, chuckled in agreement.

‘And what of you, Peli?' asked Graf. ‘What do you desire of these females?'

Peli would have stumbled had not Graf caught his arm. ‘In truth,' he mumbled, his chin low on his chest, ‘I wish we were at home in the castle guardroom. I've heard that the other one, Babala, is a magical creature who can turn a man to stone should he pole her with his cock.'

Again the others laughed.

‘Aye,' said Bart, ‘if you say so. But I hear tell that her nubbin is as prominent as a little cock, straining from its hood, anxious to be petted and excited to a come which will leave her begging to be fucked by each of us, one after the other.'

‘No one knows this for sure,' said Peli.

‘‘T'is true!' Bart insisted. ‘As true as I stand here. The Taskmaster's manservant told me and the Taskmaster himself told him.'

‘But the women belong to the Prince,' groaned Peli, ‘just as we do.'

The four men ran along the narrow path in silence for many minutes, each keeping his own council until Graf spoke at last, never slowing his pace. ‘Well, I shall keep quiet about our pleasure in the forest, if I can trust you all to do the same.'

‘For the sake of spearing her silken cunt,' said Bart, ‘I would be willing to have my tongue cut out by the root.'

‘And to torment the Lady Fazath until she begs for more I should be willing to be made a eunuch,' Capel said gleefully. ‘What say you, Peli?'

‘Leave the lad alone,' snapped Graf. ‘He has tasted no woman yet.'

Capel slapped his thigh triumphantly. ‘Just as I thought! The lad's a virgin, his cock undipped and an orgasm not known except by his own hand.' He chuckled cruelly and prodded Peli's back as the lad hung his head in shame and blushed with confusion and embarrassment.

At that very moment Graf held a warning finger to his lips, ordering silence. ‘Listen!' he hissed.

The men stopped and obediently strained their eyes in the darkness, watchful of the path ahead. They craned their necks and cocked their ears. Capel, especially, cupped a hand to his ear and turned his head to focus on any unusual sound in the forest.

‘I hear nothing but rain,' he said irritably. ‘I say we should press on and find the bitches before they escape beyond the borders of Ellipsis.'

‘No, Graf's right,' said Peli, ‘I hear something. A sound... a soft sound... as if...' He looked at Graf, searching for help in describing what he could hear.

‘That's the sound of pleasure, my boy,' supplied Graf. ‘The sound of an orgasm, welcomed and enjoyed.'

‘They are near,' whispered Bart. ‘Just up ahead, and the Lady Fazath is using the maid for her own ends.'

‘Circle,' whispered Graf, pointing the directions in which the men should go. ‘But tread like ghosts through the forest. Surprise them as they take their pleasure.'

Peli was the first to come upon them and he gasped at the sight that greeted him. The Lady Fazath was on her knees between the shapely spread legs of Babala, who had her head flung back in uncaring bliss. His eyes darted down once more to the woman on her knees. He saw a flicking tongue and the bud that it teased. The others were right; it was truly beautiful, thickened and throbbing, slick with spittle. He felt his organ swell beneath the soft leather of his tunic and his fingers circled his thickness, sliding up and down as he watched the two females.

‘There you are, lad.' It was Graf who whispered and crept up beside him. ‘This won't do. Pleasuring yourself when you should be binding them.' He tugged at the silken cord at Peli's waist. ‘What are you thinking of?'

‘Babala's cunt,' Peli said hoarsely. ‘It is beautiful, isn't it? I wish I could kneel between her legs instead of her ladyship. I want to taste her, to suck her, to make her groan like madam did just now.'

‘All in good time, my lad,' Graf said with a low chuckle, freed the silken cord at his own waist, fashioned from it a long loop, and with an easy throw he tossed it expertly over the two writhing figures. It spun silently through the air and tightened about them, holding fast. A shriek rent the forest, followed by a howl of rage as they were dragged, together, through the mud and rotting fallen leaves. Babala began to sob and cupped her hands about her cunny, trying to hide the soft flesh from the sight of the men.

‘I'll have you hanged for this!' screamed the Lady Fazath.

‘We're only following orders,' said Bart, who had appeared in the clearing and was looking hungrily at madam's muddied skirt and the silken midnight thatch bared beneath it. ‘You seem a little moist and flushed between your thighs, mistress, if I may say so.'

‘You may not say so!' With a hiss of rage the Lady Fazath, with something of a struggle in view of the bindings about her and Babala, drew her knife and threw it in Bart's direction. Deftly he dodged and the knife fell harmlessly into the undergrowth.

‘And now it's my turn,' he grunted, and slipped his hands between the two roped females and bound the mistress's wrists with another length of cord. With the Lady Fazath rendered almost harmless the men were free to busy themselves on the girl.

Peli, on Graf's orders, bound Babala until he had her body arched, her wrists tied to her ankles, but her knees kept fully apart by a stout length of branch. ‘Do you wish to fulfil your desire, my lad, before we take them somewhere less cold and wet?'

Babala's eyes, wide and deep blue as the most rare of sapphires, were moist with tears, making them luminous in the rain-soaked half-light. She looked at Peli, her soft lips trembling and her cheeks still flushed from the orgasm so recently experienced. Her breasts quivered, the teats taut and inviting, and Peli felt his cock rise more stiffly under his tunic, thrusting at the fine leather to poke, full and proud, like a tent pole.

‘Go on, lad,' urged Graf, pushing the young man forward. ‘Or shall I sling her about my neck to make her more available, so you can tongue and prod with your fingers to your heart's desire.'

Babala strained at her bonds and felt the silken cord grow tighter at her wrists and ankles, to cut more painfully into her flesh.

‘Don't you dare touch her!' The Lady Fazath writhed slowly towards Babala across the muddy ground, her progress impeded by her bonds. ‘She is mine! Do you understand? Mine!'

A whip cut the damp air with a fearsome crack and Capel stood over her ladyship, a triumphant grin on his coarse face as the woman grunted in pain and the muddied skirt was cut by the lash across the slight swell of her belly, fully baring her lushly bushed sex mound.

‘We were given to understand she was the Prince's, mistress,' he said scathingly. ‘Which is why we were sent after you.'

The Lady Fazath rolled onto her belly to hide her partial nakedness. ‘The girl had her fill of the coarseness of man when she was fucked by the Taskmaster.' Her words were full of venom and she tried to crawl towards the girl she so desired, surprised when she flinched away from her touch.

Babala gasped. ‘Not true,' she whispered. ‘The Taskmaster's cock is beautiful, skilful. He did not hurt—'

‘Be quiet, stupid girl!' Lady Fazath again tried to writhe sinuously over the slimy ground, trying to reach Babala, to protect her.

‘Yes, be quiet,' echoed Capel, and the long whip cracked through the air once more to land, this time, upon the Lady Fazath's upturned buttocks. The blow was so heavily laid that the ill-treated silk skirt fell in shreds about the woman's tawny hips, leaving the taut hillocks of her bottom bare for all to see, and a glowing red welt crossing the mounds from the upper hip to the lower swell of her buttocks. Capel sank down upon his knees and lifted his tunic, thrusting his groin toward the Lady Fazath's face in a lewd fashion.

‘Hateful creature,' grunted her ladyship. ‘Filthy man.'

But for all her protestations Babala could not help noticing that the Lady Fazath's eyes were riveted, for many moments, upon the dark bloated shaft which speared up from Capel's crisply curled groin. Babala frowned, trying to interpret the strange expression. Could her ladyship's tastes be not all that they seemed?

But then madam again lowered her eyes, diverting them from Capel's hugeness. ‘You are a man,' she rasped. ‘I have naught to do with men.'

‘So I hear,' Capel goaded, smoothing a huge hand over madam's pouting buttocks, paying particular attention to the scarlet welt which stood proud across the paler mounds. ‘Which makes it all the more interesting for me, your ladyship.' He let a thick finger trail lightly in the crevice between the taut buttocks and grinned when he felt the quiver of flesh under his touch.

Babala closed her eyes, not wishing to see the Lady Fazath humiliated further, knowing as she did how she protested against their coarseness. Then a scream began low in her throat as she felt herself lifted high in the air and the sensation of hair against her back. Fearfully, she allowed her lashes to flutter open, and was slung above the ground about the thick neck of the man called Graf. Although she could not see exactly how open and vulnerable her cunny was, she could feel the bough pressing into the tender skin of the inner side of her knees, spreading her open, and her body flushed at the humiliation of being laid so bare in front of these strangers.

‘I can see the flesh glistening and droplets coating her open gully,' said a timid young man's voice. It was the lad, Peli.

The man who held Babala about his neck chuckled. ‘The gully is her opening, my lad. Some call it a quim, others call it a cunt. The droplets are to ease the entrance of a good stiff cock.'

Babala tried to squirm in her humiliation, but Graf held her still, making a sign with his fingers that Peli should touch her sex. Turning her head painfully she saw the sign and it made her blush more deeply. This was so different from the only other time a man used her body - the Taskmaster. He was so gentle, making sure she was ready, massaging balm about her cunny that made her nubbin spring to stiff and swollen erection. She remembered how pleased the Taskmaster was at this, how he complimented her and told her that the Prince would delight in her.

‘Come along, lad,' Graf's voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘The rest of us are waiting to take our turn. Touch her. Dip your fingers into her wetness. Touch her clitty until you bring her to a satisfying come.' He chuckled and held Babala round his neck with one hand, while the other circled his stiffened cock. ‘I doubt you will be able to contain your spunk once you do that.'

‘Why don't we go to the caves and get out of this rain?' said Bart testily. ‘They're not far from here, and we can use the females at our leisure. Then we can be on our way back to the castle.'

‘A good idea,' said Graf, already starting down the path. ‘You can feel her to your heart's content there, lad.'

Babala could see Peli's disappointed face as he followed the older man down the path.

‘You'll hang for this!' shrieked the Lady Fazath. Naked, she was slung about Capel's neck, her wrists and ankles bound like Babala's.

‘And you will not?' said Capel, a chuckle breaking his voice.

Bart led the way, eager to reach the caves, and Babala could feel the first rays of the sun, warm and dry upon her. As they entered the wide opening of the first cave Graf, with a sigh of relief, lowered Babala to the soft sand that formed the floor. He knelt beside her aching body and gently eased the branch from between her knees, then taking his knife from his belt he cut the cord and allowed her limbs to ease free. Unwittingly, she fell into a sensuous pose, her arms above her head on the sand, her breasts uplifted with the teats hard and taut while her legs spread invitingly.