Of Pain and Delight (7 page)

At last, the feelings subsided and she eased her hand away. She gasped for breath, taking in the foul air gratefully. She put the tips of her fingers to her mouth and tasted the sweet nectar of her release. Prince Sarne had spoken the truth; she
had
become a slave to the lash. She knew that whatever happened, whatever they had in store for her, it would only serve to heighten her delight.

It was some time before Sahria became relaxed enough to use her free hand to unfasten the remaining three straps that bound her to the frame. At last she was free, at least of the painful restraint. She moved cautiously in the darkness until she found what felt like a small cot in a corner of the dungeon. She sat down and rubbed her tender joints. As the blood began to once more course through her veins the pain returned to her wrists and ankles. She lay back on the cot, drew the single rough sheet over her exhausted body, closed her eyes, and drifted into a deep sleep.

Sahria awoke with a start. She had been dreaming; a meandering vision which had suddenly turned into a nightmare of startling reality. She opened her eyes and attempted to make sense of the strange shapes in the darkness of the room. Suddenly she realised that the nightmare had been true. She was a prisoner in her own dungeon, held at the mercy of the evil Prince Sarne and his foul cohorts.

She made to sit up. The sudden ache in her bottom brought back vivid memories of her recent punishment, and she stood and stroked her buttocks carefully. Her fingertips traced the numerous welts left by the stinging rod, but she smiled to herself; it had been good.

She sat down again on the cot with her hands clasped between her thighs like a small child. There was nothing she could do. She had to wait – wait until Rapite returned. He would surely thrash her when he saw that she had managed to release herself from the frame. She pondered as to whether she should shackle herself again in the hope that he wouldn’t notice one of the straps was broken, but thought better of it. What was the point? He would discover her deceit soon enough, and it would be all the worse for her.

Sahria lay back on the cot and drew the sheet over her nakedness once more. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what forms the torture and humiliation that awaited her might take.

Suddenly, she remembered Calema. How could she have been so selfish, so stupid? While she had been enjoying her pain at the hands of Rapite she hadn’t given a moment’s thought to her beautiful friend’s whereabouts. Had she been harmed? Was she even alive?

She pictured Calema’s lovely face, with its incongruously virginal expression and her innocent eyes that made men fall hopelessly in love with her at first sight. Little did they know her true insatiable appetite for pleasures of the flesh. When they learned the truth, of course they would take her lithe young body and enjoy her waif-like curves and apple-firm breasts. Many would think they were the first, and Calema did little to dissuade them. Sometimes they were, Sahria mused, at least that day.

She smiled as she remembered one particular time when Calema had pleasured eight men simultaneously. She could still picture the sight of her beautiful friend lying across the supine form of one man so that his cock slipped effortlessly inside her soaking pussy, while a second pushed his erection into her sweet and inviting bottom. Two more of the athletic hunks managed to push their raging stalks into her mouth, and Sahria could still visualise Calema’s pouting lips stretched around their hard flesh. Reaching out with her hands, Calema had then grasped the pricks of two more willing victims and masturbated them expertly whilst rubbing the soles of her feet against yet two more!

How the court enjoyed her delicious demonstration. And how desirable Calema had looked when they had sated themselves. Sahria could still see her, lying on the couch with her entire body, face and hair streaked with the cream of eight men’s lust. Sahria saw Calema’s happy face as if it were yesterday, a trickle of sperm slipping from the girl’s cute lips, and her bright eyes sparkling with joy.

Sahria had to find her – and quickly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the bolts being drawn on the other side of the door. She jumped from the bed and stood proudly, her back arched and her breasts jutting firmly, ready to face her tormentor. A shaft of light broke through the oppressive darkness. Then suddenly, a small figure was pushed unceremoniously into the room and the door was slammed shut. The walls echoed to the sounds of the bolts being secured once more. The silence returned with the darkness, broken only by the quiet sobbing of the prone form on the cold stone floor.

Sahria’s heart leapt. ‘Calema?’ she said excitedly, ‘Calema, is that you?’

‘Sahria? Oh, my dear sweet sister, I thought you were dead!’ Calema’s voice sang in the darkness and echoed Sahria’s delight. Her eyes were better used to the blackness and she managed to clutch her friend’s arm and help her to her feet. The two girls hugged each other tightly and let the tears flow.

‘Oh, Calema,’ sobbed Sahria, ‘I thought it could be you who was lost. What have they done to you?’

‘It is so strange, sister. There was pain, but there was also so much pleasure. I could never have imagined having so much joy.’

Sahria helped her to sit on the cot and wrapped the sheet around the girl’s shoulders, and then sat next to her. ‘Tell me what happened,’ she said.

‘Well, I was walking in the forest with two handsome Nubian slaves,’ Calema began. ‘You may remember that my father hates me to consort with the Nubians, but you will also know how much I enjoy the sight of their ebony flesh. These two were particularly fine specimens, and very compliant.’ Despite their predicament, she couldn’t suppress an impish grin at the thought of them. ‘I had just beaten them soundly with rough branches which they obediently cut from a spruce, and was just about to impale myself on one of their delicious cocks when we were interrupted by a messenger.’

‘You know that my father, the king, has fled the country?’ said Sahria quietly.

Calema nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said softly, ‘but I was told that he fought bravely. My own parents have vanished also, and I pray they have not been harmed.’

‘The king would never allow them to suffer,’ said Sahria carefully. ‘Your father is his best friend. They will be safe.’ Her words seemed to soothe Calema’s grief in the same way that the knowledge of the king’s bravado in battle helped Sahria.

‘Carry on with your story,’ she whispered.

‘The messenger told me there had been a great battle, and that the kingdom was lost. I couldn’t believe it. It had all happened so quickly.’ Calema began to cry, and Sahria touched her face lightly.

‘I, too, knew nothing until I awoke to find myself in chains,’ she said.

‘Chains?’ queried Calema.

Sahria detected a glint of excitement in her eyes. ‘I’ll tell you my story later. Go on.’

‘I returned to the palace and was immediately arrested by the guards. There were five of them, five muscular men. I was at their mercy. I knew two of them, having seen them about the palace, but the other three were strangers to me. I was taken to their guardhouse. At first I thought they were merely going to imprison me, but once the door was closed it wasn’t long before I realised they had other intentions.

‘I was thrown roughly across the room and fell against a tattered old couch. One of the men picked up some rope and for a moment simply stood there, leering at me. I demanded to know what they were going to do to me, but they just laughed. I was frightened and I knew they could see my fear, and I hoped they would take pity on me. But it just seemed to spur them on. Two of them grabbed me and ripped off my dress. I was wearing nothing else, and a third guard put a hand between my legs and slipped his fingers inside my pussy. What surprised me was the fact that I was wet there. For some reason I didn’t understand, the rough treatment was actually turning me on!’ Calema blushed in the oppressive gloom.

‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘he pulled his hand away and another guard pushed his fingers into me. I struggled hard. Despite my arousal I was not going to let them take advantage of me, but they seemed to have other ideas.

‘The hand was taken away and I was forced to kneel on the edge of the couch with my bottom presented to them in the most crude fashion. I waited for the inevitable touch of a thick cock-head to my pussy lips. But suddenly there was a burning pain as the rope was lashed across my buttocks. I squealed and cursed them loudly. Their response was to whip me again, this time with far more severity. I bit my lip, determined not to cry out again.

‘They lashed me across the bottom again and again. The strange thing is, the more they whipped me, the more I craved for the next stroke.’

‘I know that feeling,’ interrupted Sahria.

‘You know it too?’ said Calema with undisguised wonder. ‘Then you have been beaten?’

‘I have been caned. My bottom bears the marks, I am sure, but it is too dark in here for you to see.’

‘And did you find pleasure and delight in the pain?’

‘Eventually. I orgasmed whilst being thrashed.’ Sahria made the announcement proudly.

‘So did I!’ exclaimed Calema. ‘Three times! The guards took it in turn to whip me. Each time I came I screamed out loud. They must have assumed my cries were due to the pain, and it seemed to give them some pleasure.’

‘Did they do anything else to you?’

‘Not then. When they were exhausted they collapsed on the floor. I remained in the same position and waited for them to take me. I actually wanted to be fucked, and fucked by all of them! I knew my pussy lips were open in invitation and that my arousal would be obvious if they cared to examine me, but they just lay there, as far as I know doing nothing but staring at my stinging backside.

‘After some time they used the same rope with which they’d beaten me to tie my hands and feet together, and then got some more lengths of cord and trussed me like a chicken for the pot. I was then made to kneel so that my rump was once more presented to their gaze. At last, I thought, they were going to fuck me. I have never been so ready to be impaled as I was at that moment. Instead, however, they just left me. They left the guardhouse laughing and joking and slammed the door behind them. I was furious.

‘I tried to move but couldn’t. I began to feel ridiculous, kneeling on the floor, tied up and with my bottom sticking in the air. My rear was still stinging quite badly, but the pain seemed to compensate for my frustration.

‘After some time the door opened again. The guards had returned. They were still laughing like idiots and their breath smelled of ale. I looked over my shoulder and glared at them. One of them took up a long spear, and oh, I thought they were going to kill me! I closed my eyes and braced myself for the blow.

‘But instead they forced the spear through my bonds and used it to raise me from the floor, still in my obscene position. Two of them balanced each end on their shoulders and the door was flung open. I was carried out like an animal into the square. There were people everywhere – people I knew. I have never felt so humiliated. The men carried me slowly through the jeering crowd as if purposefully displaying me as their prize. Hands groped my nether regions and fingers prodded inside me. I saw the faces of slaves whom I had abused in the past. Their elation at seeing me in my shame both sickened and excited me.

‘I was taken to the palace. As they walked down the long passageways we passed many more soldiers, all of who took the opportunity to finger my private parts. At last, we reached the door to one of the royal chambers. By this time I was shaking with lust and could feel the juices running from me. I must have presented quite a sight.

‘The door opened and I was carried in. I managed to look up, and saw a man seated on the edge of the bed. I recognised him immediately. It was Sarne, the handsome prince who so besotted you when he first visited the palace. Do you remember him? He seemed to have quite an effect on you at the time.’

‘Sarne?’ said Sahria quickly. ‘You were taken to the prince?’

‘Yes,’ replied Calema. ‘So, you must know it is he who has taken over the kingdom.’ Calema regarded her quizzically. ‘Oh, my dearest friend, you are jealous!’

‘Nonsense!’ snapped Sahria. ‘Go on with your story, and leave nothing out.’

Calema smiled knowingly and then continued with her tale. ‘I was lowered to the floor and the spear was removed from the ropes. All I could do was kneel there with my hands tied behind my back and my bottom still jutting upwards. I felt so demeaned and so ashamed to be in such a ludicrous pose in the presence of a prince. I tried to move in order to roll over onto my side, but the way I had been trussed prevented this. I looked up at the prince. It hurt my neck, but I wanted to look into his eyes. He simply stared back at me. I remember thinking how cruel his expression was. There was no compassion, no pity for me in my wretched state.

‘He stood up and his cloak fell open. I gasped when I saw his magnificent cock. It hung limply from his bushy groin, but even in that flaccid condition it was longer and thicker than the largest weapon I had seen before! I couldn’t stop myself from imagining how wonderful it would be to accommodate such a monster. I pictured it long and hard, jutting upward from his chiselled body, ready to impale me to the hilt. My pussy was already wet due to the whipping, and the glorious subjugation of my bondage, but now it itched for sexual contact. I remember thinking that, no matter how big the prince’s tool, it would slide into me without the slightest difficulty.’