Babala's Correction (24 page)

‘Unless you would like us to stay a little longer...' he coaxed, reading her emotions with ease.

‘I think I would, sir,' she said honestly, ‘but I am a virgin and I must stay that way. My father would kill any man who took my innocence before wedlock.'

‘We understand that,' said Fazath, kissing Ruth's hot forehead, the allure of the girl overriding her concerns of outstaying their welcome.

‘But you do have a delightful bottom,' the Taskmaster hinted carefully, not wanting to alarm the girl. ‘And it would remain our secret. Your innocence will remain intact, and your father will never be any the wiser.'

Ruth, fully understanding his meaning, blushed even deeper as she pondered his suggestion. ‘But, it would hurt, surely?' she said.

‘We will make sure that you feel nothing but pleasure,' he assured her.

‘How?' she asked, unable to hide her desire to consent to their wishes.

‘As the master penetrates your bottom I shall attend to your cunny,' Fazath told her. ‘How does that sound?'

‘It... it sounds heavenly, mistress,' she admitted, and her lips peeled open to accept the woman's passionate kiss as the Taskmaster fully opened her bodice and lowered his head to suck one of her rigid nipples into his mouth.

‘Come then, my dear,' he said, releasing the delicious orb after a few minutes of very pleasurable suckling, ‘the Lady Fazath will take you to the bed...'

 

 

 

Babala, relieved of her chains, was left in the market square amid the garbage; the spoiled tomatoes, the rotting cabbage leaves and the trampled root vegetables.

She was hungry. Maxim's guards had been sparing with the scraps they'd fed her, and she was terribly thirsty.

She nibbled on a cabbage leaf and examined a carrot, which did not seem to be too spoiled. It was better than nothing, at least. Despite her awful predicament she could not help fearing for the welfare of dear Huru, and she wondered how he was, left by Maxim's men in the forest. Once her ordeal was over, one way or another, she would go back to find him and take him to the safety of Ellipsis. She owed him that much, at the very least.

The market was closed, the stalls empty and dark, filled with shadows, and she heaved a sigh of relief that she would not be seen in her nakedness. She huddled beneath a stall, her knees drawn up to her breasts and her bottom chilled on the damp cobblestones, nibbling on her meagre meal. The cabbage leaf did nothing to appease her hunger, so she was about to start upon the carrot when she was startled by a voice nearby.

‘I'm sure I saw a girl,' someone said. ‘It wasn't my imagination. She was naked, with long golden hair; a real beauty.'

‘What would a girl be doing in this place at such a late hour?' demanded another. ‘You've been drinking too much ale, Malesin.'

‘That couple in the tavern; the nobles,' went on Malesin, ignoring the accusation that he had one tankard too many. ‘Didn't they say they were looking for a girl?'

‘No, the woman was just a whore,' the other snorted. ‘Didn't you see how lascivious she was?'

‘I tell you, I saw a girl,' insisted Malesin, getting back to the main point.

Babala tried to make herself small, huddling in the darkest corner beneath the stall, her hunger and the carrot forgotten, but at that moment her wrist was grabbed and she was hauled from the darkness. She gave a small scream and tried to pull away from her captor, but she was much weakened by what she had suffered over the last few days and the man was as strong as an ox.

‘What did I tell you?' Malesin beamed triumphantly. ‘I knew I saw a girl skulking at the edge of the town. This is the one, the girl the nobles were looking for. I'm sure of it.'

‘She is beautiful,' agreed the other, reaching out to cup her grimy cheek in the silvery moonlight. Babala again tried to struggle, but the men were far too strong for her and she was drained from her treatment at the hands of Maxim's guards.

‘And what were you going to do with this carrot, girl?' asked Malesin.

‘I - I was hungry, sir,' she said wearily. ‘I didn't think anyone would miss it, since it was thrown among the garbage.'

‘Mm,' said the other, a salacious glint in his brooding eyes, ‘I could dream up a few better uses for it...'

But Babala wasn't listening, although she instinctively inched away a little as the two men crowded even closer, their rough hands taking sneaky liberties with her body. The men had spoken of two nobles...

‘Talito, my friend,' Malesin croaked, ‘this little minx is turning me on.'

‘Let's get her on the trestle,' Talito panted, ‘on her back.'

As they manhandled Babala she stared at them with unseeing eyes. What if the nobles were who she prayed they might be? She scarcely dared to hope, but her hopes soared nonetheless. Could it truly be the Taskmaster and the Lady Fazath?

‘Come on, my little beauty,' Talito grunted as he half-lifted half-shuffled her back to a market trestle. ‘We're going to have some fun together.'

‘Wait, please,' Babala said quietly, as though in a dream, ‘the nobleman... what did he look like?'

Hands mauled her thighs and breasts as she was shunted up a little so that her bottom perched on the edge of the trestle. ‘What does it matter?' Malesin snapped impatiently. ‘We've more pressing needs than any he might have,' and Babala felt her hand being pulled down by the wrist to cup an urgent bulge within his tunic. ‘Ah...' he sighed heavily and pressed her fingers tightly around his shaft, ‘feel that, girl. Feel what's awaiting you.'

What if the Taskmaster had come to find her? Would she be punished severely by the palace nobles? Or would she be welcomed home? Babala's tummy turned excitedly at the thought. Home! The safety of the palace and the pampering she had always been afforded there. She frowned, thinking of the Lady Fazath, and hoped the Taskmaster had punished her severely for taking her from the palace and putting her through weeks of torment.

Just then Malesin drew back a little, a cunning glint in his eyes. ‘You know, I'll bet my last shekel there's a reward for this young hussy,' he said thoughtfully. ‘I'll bet I'm right and she is the girl the nobles are searching for.'

‘A reward?' Talito was suddenly more interested in his companion's words than the delicious girl sitting submissively at his mercy. ‘Do you think?'

‘It could well be her...' Malesin pondered, trying to appear wise. He dragged Babala from the trestle and looked intently into her face in the chill of the creeping dawn. ‘Could there be anyone, a noble, who might be looking for you?' he asked her.

So exhausted was she that she hung her head and shook it. ‘I don't know, sir. Maybe, maybe someone seeks me, but I can't be sure.'

‘Well, are they or aren't they?' Talito butted in, the prospect of financial gain making him impatient. ‘We don't want to go trailing back through the town to the tavern unnecessarily, but we do want to find the nobles if it is you they're searching for.'

At last Babala nodded. ‘I think they might be. But I don't know whether there is a reward for me,' she admitted. ‘The people you mention may be looking to punish me rather than reward you.'

‘Oh, I'm going home,' said Talito, impetuously losing all interest in the lure of a reward. ‘It's late and I can't be bothered with a babbling peasant. I want nothing more than to crawl into my bed,' and he slunk away towards a meandering alleyway set between some mean dwellings at the edge of the market square.

‘Well, I'm taking her,' Malesin called after him. ‘A coffer of shekels would feed my hungry brood for many a long day.'

Talito waved dismissively over his shoulder without looking back at his friend, and disappeared around a corner.

So Babala stumbled along beside the man, part of her hoping that the strangers they'd spoken of were the Taskmaster and the Lady Fazath, and a smaller part of her hoping it was not.

 

 

 

Dressed in fresh silk robes, her hair washed and shining and her face glowing with happiness, Babala sank back into the deep velvet cushions of the carriage the Taskmaster had hired to take them back to Ellipses. Her legs were spread and the silk pushed high about her thighs as the Lady Fazath knelt between them.

‘Your little cunny looks as inviting as the day I took you from the palace,' the woman said, and stroked the plump lips, petting them and stroking the golden curls, fluffed and combed to add to the sweet perfection. ‘All those wretched men have not spoiled you at all.' She parted the outer lips to reveal the erect nubbin within, startlingly pink against the darker flesh. Her lips closed about the little bud and Babala sighed happily, bearing up mischievously to push her nubbin deeper into Fazath's warm moist mouth. A tongue stroked the succulent flesh, teasing it with petting strokes until Babala began to shudder into a glorious orgasm.

The Taskmaster slipped a hand into the bodice of her gown, cupping a breast and lifting it so that the hardened nipple peeped over the upper frill of her gown. ‘So different,' he murmured, ‘so very different.' He sucked upon the nipple, and the only other sounds were Babala's contented breathing and the trundle of the carriage wheels over the rough road.

‘Am I to be punished?' she asked, when he raised his head.

‘Punished?' he asked, stroking her flushed cheek. He sat close beside her and she could see the hardened thickness of his cock within his tight hose. ‘Why should you be punished?'

‘No, my dear,' Fazath answered, holding up her manacled wrists. ‘It is I who am to be punished for taking you from the Prince.' She twisted her body around to allow Babala to see her specially designed gown, cut at the back to allow the whip to fall upon her flesh without hindrance.

Babala shuddered. ‘Well, what is to happen to me?'

‘I am going to marry you,' said the Taskmaster.

Babala looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and surprise. She was about to shake her head, to say that she was no longer good enough for him, when the horses were reined in.

‘Out!' bellowed a rough voice from outside the carriage. ‘All of you in there - get out!'

Babala's eyes widened with fear.

‘Bandits,' growled the Taskmaster. ‘There are many on the borders of Brentasi and Ellipsis.'

‘Out, or do you want to be shot where you sit?'

The Taskmaster opened the carriage door and helped Babala down.

‘And you!' the bandit roared.

‘I am chained to the floor of the carriage,' said Fazath, and she rattled the chains that kept her secured inside.

‘No matter,' said the bandit, the leader of the gang of three. ‘This one will serve.' He pulled Babala close to his horse. ‘What say you, Gelput?'

The rogue named Gelput, a heavyset brute, grunted and reached out to tear at Babala's bodice, then stared hungrily at her bared breasts and nodded. ‘Aye, she'll do for me.'

‘And you, Patman?'

Patman finished tying the poor elderly carriage driver to the spokes of one wheel and tore the gown further until Babala's pussy and the milk-white flesh of her bottom could be seen. ‘That and the coins this gentleman has in his purse will suit very nicely, Manto,' he concurred, indicating the Taskmaster.

‘Have my money!' the Taskmaster growled vehemently. ‘You're welcome to it.' He unfastened the heavy purse at his belt and threw it to the rogue called Manto. ‘But I warn each of you; leave the girl alone.'

Manto took the purse and hefted it in his hands, clearly pleased with the weight. ‘Tie him up, Patman,' he ordered, apparently unconcerned about the Taskmaster's threat, ‘while I take the girl to that clearing over there for some fun.'

‘You'll hang for this,' the Taskmaster promised, as the other two men restrained him by also tying him to a wheel of the carriage. ‘Each of you; you'll hang for this.'

Babala looked over her shoulder at him with pleading eyes, as she was half-dragged, half-carried to the clearing. The new gown was torn from her and she was flung face down over the mossy trunk of a fallen tree. Manto said nothing but his breathing, rasping and quick, told of his excitement. ‘Please, don't hurt me,' she whispered.

‘Hurt you?' he said. ‘Nay, my need is such that it won't take me long to reach my pleasure.'

She felt fingers prising open her bottom cheeks and the slippery globe of a cock butting at her rose-hole. She held her breath, awaiting the inevitable, and then heard him grunt as her tight entrance yielded and he was able to sink his cock fully inside her, and she pampered his thick stem, hoping she could make him come all the quicker.

‘Haven't you finished yet?' Babala groaned and looked up; it was Patman leering at them, with Gelput beside him.

‘Let us join in,' demanded the latter. ‘I want my cock between those lovely globes too.' He lifted his tunic and hefted the stained leather pouch that held his penis. Babala could see the outline of its large dimensions, and closed her eyes in dismay.