Of Pain and Delight (10 page)

‘I nodded and spoke weakly. “Yes mistress,” I mumbled, “I cannot take any more. My poor bottom stings so.” She smiled again, but this time it was a sneering smile. She moved back to stand behind me. “Then perhaps a few more,” she said triumphantly. I buried my face in the pillow, anxious that she should not notice my delight at her words. She stood quietly for a moment, tormenting me as usual, then I heard her draw a deep breath. I stiffened my buttocks. I was coming! I just needed the touch of the tawse and it would be complete.

‘The leather hit my bottom with such ferocity that I screamed with the pain, but the fire and agony that burned my tortured flesh mellowed rapidly as the full force of my orgasm tore through my loins. I squealed again and writhed on the bed, grinding my crotch against the saturated pillow. The blissful orgasm seemed to last for ages; it was as if time stood still as a million tiny needles jabbed into by little clit at the same time.

‘Eventually I relaxed and looked fearfully at Mistress Cale, who was clearly furious. She ordered me to kneel with my bottom thrust high. I couldn’t understand it; she obviously knew that further punishment would merely delight me all the more, and yet she seemed intent on continuing. I certainly wasn’t going to offer her any argument!

‘I knelt as she demanded with my back dipped, and I rested on my shoulders so that my bottom jutted high. She ordered me to part my legs, which I was happy to do, assuming she would no doubt wish to stare at my anus and sex once more – but I was wrong.

‘I looked over my shoulder and watched her raise the tawse high above her head. She really was going to thrash me some more! My pussy twitched again. I braced myself for further pain and delight. The tawse swished down and, to my shock the leather whacked fully onto my wet sex. The pain was excruciating! Mistress Cale whipped me twice more in exactly the same place until I collapsed forward onto the bed. This time my tears were for real. My pussy throbbed awfully and every second the stinging got worse and worse. I rolled over onto my back and clutched myself between the legs with both hands. I pressed the palms hard against the wet flesh and it seemed to help ease the pain. I glared at Mistress Cale and, for once she appeared concerned that she’d gone too far. She threw the tawse onto the bed and quickly left the room, slamming the door behind her.

‘Gradually the pain subsided and was replaced by a pleasant pulsing, deep within the slippery flesh. I stiffened my buttocks and the throbbing seemed to increase in intensity. I could feel my little bud hardening. I touched myself, then began to rub.

‘Just then the door opened and Mistress Cale returned. She was now draped in a diaphanous dress and was carrying a small bronze jug. She sat at the foot of the bed and poured some liquid onto the palm of her hand, then reached forward and smoothed the cool oil onto my abused pussy. She was clearly worried that she had hurt me badly, and wasn’t ready for my response to her gentle caress. I came with a sudden wail and gripped her hand with both of mine to force her to press hard against my pulsating mound. She tried to pull her hand away, but I found a strength within me that could not be overcome. I rubbed my cunt against the bitch’s palm until I was completely sated, and then I let her go, dismissing her from the room with a contemptuous wave of my arm.

‘I lay still for a few minutes, pondering on what had happened to me, and how much pleasure I had achieved from the experience of pain. Soon after, as I lay there in a dreamy state, the door opened and my two lovely soldiers slipped into my bedroom.

‘And this time I bade them lock the door.’

‘I wish that evil clown Rapite would hurry up,’ said Calema, in a hushed tone. ‘I’m feeling cold.’

Sahria slipped her arm around her naked friend’s shoulders and hugged her tightly. Their jailer had been gone for at least an hour, possibly more. Time seemed to have little meaning within the confines of their dark, dank prison. ‘Let’s just hope he has kept his word and spoken to the prince,’ she whispered, more to herself than to her young companion.

They sat in silence for a while. Occasionally one of the torches spat angrily as the tallow sparked momentarily, but other than this the only sounds that could be heard were those of the two female’s steady breathing.

Calema was the first to break the deathly hush. ‘Do you think Prince Sarne will allow us to join him?’ she said.

‘I hope so,’ replied Sahria. ‘I feel there is much that we can offer him, and there is certainly much that he can teach us.’

Calema suddenly burst into tears and buried her face in Sahria’s bosom. ‘I don’t want to die,’ she sobbed. Sahria stroked her head gently, caressing the soft blonde tresses lovingly.

‘You won’t die,’ she whispered. ‘The prince has tasted your sweet body. He will want more.’

Calema sat up and looked directly into Sahria’s eyes. She seemed so young, so vulnerable. Sahria wanted to kiss away her pain and fear. She hugged her again and closed her eyes. She imagined Calema kneeling on the floor of the palace with the prince plunging his enormous tool in and out of her bottom, and she felt very envious. He
had
to agree to their terms and, more importantly, she knew that she had to feel that same monstrous weapon within her own clutching sheath.

The sounds of the door bolts being withdrawn made them both jump. The door creaked open and Rapite entered. He stood still for a moment, his muscular frame a silhouette against the bright light of the passageway behind him. Sahria and Calema rose to their feet.

‘You are to come with me,’ he snapped at last. ‘The prince will see you.’

Sahria walked slowly over to him. She couldn’t help but notice the way he leered at her breasts as they swayed provocatively with her movements. ‘May we not be dressed in some way, to preserve our dignity?’ she asked, as she stood before him. ‘A simple robe would do.’ She did her best to hold a regal pose and glared down at him, but his lecherous gaze remained fixed on her breasts, and to her profound annoyance she sensed her nipples hardening. She mentally cursed her lack of self-control.

Calema stood next to her and Rapite glanced across at her smaller, pert breasts, and smiled. ‘I must fuck you on your return,’ he chuckled, ‘but come now, the prince will not be kept waiting.’

‘What about clothing?’ demanded Sahria, choosing to ignore his arrogance.

Rapite eyed her contemptuously. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he barked, then turned his back on the two girls and strode out of the room. Two burly guards stood in the doorway, waiting patiently, so Sahria looked at Calema and shrugged.

‘We can’t stay here,’ she said. ‘We might just as well go and see what the prince wants of us.’ They stepped out into the corridor, both blinking in the strong torchlight. Rapite was already disappeared around a corner at the far end of the hallway, and they followed his direction quickly.

The two girls passed numerous groups of soldiers on their long walk to the throne room. The men leered at their nakedness and joked amongst themselves. Sahria was aware that they had all probably seen them naked before, but that had been under very different circumstances. It was they who would have been the prisoners, bound and gagged and more than willing to succumb as victims to their tortuous demands.

One of the soldiers grinned broadly as they approached him and raised his skirt to reveal his naked genitals. Sahria eyed the drooping member dispassionately, and then looked across at her friend. Calema’s expression showed that she had more than a little interest in the proffered specimen. ‘Come, sister,’ Sahria snapped, ‘the prince awaits us.’

Calema tore her gaze from the man and the two girls strode purposefully after the scuttling form of Rapite, and caught up with him just as he entered the throne room. They stood in the doorway, waiting to be summoned. Prince Sarne sat lazily on the throne with one leg resting over the arm of the great chair. A woman knelt at his feet, the movement of her head betraying the fact that she was paying oral homage to his huge weapon.

Presently the prince noticed Sahria and Calema in the doorway and clapped his hands together. The girl at his feet immediately moved away and Sahria caught a glimpse of his magnificent erection, before he pulled his cloak across his nakedness. She felt an immediate twinge of desire between her thighs, and knew that whatever the prince demanded of her would be given happily.

‘Come forward!’ he barked. Rapite scurried ahead of them towards the prince with his head bowed. Sahria strode slowly forward with her head held high, in order to maintain as much dignity as was possible in her naked state. Calema followed suit, until the two women stood at the base of the step to the throne.

‘Do you not bow before your prince?’ Sarne rose to his feet as he spoke. Sahria remained unmoving. The prince stepped down and stood in front of her, his face barely inches from hers. He reached forward and cupped and raised her breasts in his hands. ‘Such luscious mounds of delight,’ he continued. ‘I wonder how many strong hands have kneaded this soft flesh and how many mouths have suckled on these hard nipples.’ He pinched her stiff buds simultaneously, and then released her firm breasts.

He turned to face Calema. The young girl bowed her head, more in fear than in reverence. ‘And what of you, princess?’ he said. ‘Is your bottom still aching?’

Calema’s face coloured with her embarrassment.

‘You are a pig, Sarne,’ snapped Sahria protectively, and regretted her impertinence immediately and feared that she had gone too far. The prince swung round and glared at her. She held his stare, determined not to show him that she was terrified. He reached out and pinched one of her nipples and twisted it until she winced with the pain. Still she looked straight into his eyes, unblinking and without emotion. The prince’s expression softened and he released his grip. Sahria breathed deeply as she felt the blood pumping through her breast. He stroked it gently, and Sahria glanced down and noticed the shape of his erection pushing against the heavy material of his cloak. She felt an inner sense of relief; he may hurt her and that would be fine, but he wouldn’t kill her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Sarne stepped back up to the throne and sat down. ‘My friend here, Rapite, tells me you have a proposition to put to me,’ he said in an arrogant tone.

‘Indeed, my lord,’ replied Sahria.

‘Speak then.’

Sahria paused in order to give her words some effect. She looked around the room at the sea of faces of the peasants and soldiers who were leering unashamedly at her and her beautiful friend, and how she hated them!

She looked back at the prince. His hand was tucked under his cloak and he was clearly masturbating.

‘Calema and I are well versed in all matters sexual,’ she began.

‘That is well known,’ the prince interrupted, with a wry laugh. He looked around proudly at the assembled throng and they immediately joined him in his derision with forced hoots of laughter. Sahria managed to smile.

‘We feel it would be to all our benefit if we shared our knowledge,’ she continued. ‘There is nothing on the subjects of subjugation and humiliation that we do not know. Let us recruit and train young girls to do your bidding, and I promise that there will be more pleasures for you than you could ever have imagined.’

Sarne stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘And what would you achieve for yourself by doing this?’ he asked.

‘All we ask is the freedom to enjoy the company of men as we always have done. We will, of course, willingly take our punishment whenever we exceed the boundaries of what is permitted, my lord.’ She bowed subserviently as she spoke these last few words, and there was a long pause.

‘Where will you find these women?’ asked the prince at last.

‘We will send messengers throughout the country. Once word is out that the handsome Prince of Persia is seeking concubines it is certain that many girls will flock to the court.’

Sarne smiled, and Sahria felt a deep sense of satisfaction. She had wisely surmised that the key to the prince’s heart was to be found hidden within his monstrous vanity. He clapped his hands and laughed loudly. ‘Let it be so!’ he called to the court. ‘Forthwith Sahria and Calema are to be known as the Princesses of Pleasure!’

A rousing cheer rang around the great room, but Sarne looked into Sahria’s eyes and his expression darkened. ‘Know this,’ he said in a hushed tone, ‘should you or your protégées displease me in any way, your punishment will be most severe!’

‘We will willingly, nay gladly, accept the pain, my lord,’ Sahria replied. ‘But there is one more thing I wish to ask of you.’

‘Speak.’

Sahria looked pointedly at the impressive bulge at the front of his cloak. She spoke quietly, anxious that no one heard her words other than the prince. ‘You have promised that you will fuck me. You have already taken my dear friend here in a way that I have never experienced with any man. I ask that soon you will pleasure me in the same manner.’

Sarne smiled cruelly. ‘When I am ready…’ he whispered. ‘When I am ready.’

‘Spend one night with me, Sarne, and I promise it will be a night you will never forget.’ Sahria had never begged for sex before; to do so was totally alien to her nature, and yet here in front of a host of people she was demeaning herself willingly. She was trembling, the lust for this powerful man burning inside her.

‘You go too far, princess.’ Sarne was clearly angry. ‘I am your prince, and you will address me as such. Furthermore, you will never again demand my attention. Is that clear?’