REBEL SLAVE An Ellora’s Cave publication written by
MLYN HURN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-536-8 Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML © Copyright Mlyn Hurn, July 2003. All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave. Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. USA Ellora's Cave Ltd, UK This e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author/publisher permission. Edited by Kari Berton Cover Art by Darrell King
Certain images contained within this e-book have been digitally marked by Digimarc Corp. If you purchased this e-book from a source other than Ellora's Cave or one of its known affiliates, contact
[email protected] immediately. Please note that reading this e-book without first purchasing it through legitimate means is illegal and can result in heavy fines. As always, our authors thank-you for your support and patronage. Warning: The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. REBEL SLAVE has been rated NC17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this ebook are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…
Chapter 1 Location: Planet Tagynot Time: Future Drakkor entered the large reception hall with his highest-ranking officers behind him. As they had done many times before, he and his men were returning victorious. Only this time, the victory was much sweeter than ever before. He nodded his head towards certain people, ignoring most of the fawning women who anxiously sought his attention and favor. He knew his physical attributes attracted female attention, and his power now drew women to him for the sexual excitement and because of what he could possibly do for them. Drakkor ascended the small dais at the front of the room. His top commanding officers were seated to his left, and the senior statesmen to the right. He signaled for the celebration to continue. While food and wine were distributed freely to the merrymakers, the music started once again. Beyond the castle’s walls, he could occasionally hear the rowdier and more ribald partying of his soldiers. He would much rather be partying with his men than with the wealthy and powerful of the kingdom. But such things were no longer possible. With his father’s death, he was now liege lord, and others paid homage, owing their loyalty to him now. After today’s final victory, their battles were over. His soldiers would return to their lands and families, if desired, or remain here as his guards. His soldiers and officers were all feeling victorious, and truly were deserving of their celebration. The victory, which should have tasted sweet after many months of searching for remaining rebel bands, only left a bad taste in his mouth now. Taking prisoners was never pleasant, but today had been done without his usual graciousness and generosity of spirit, even though all protocols had been closely observed. “Drakkor!” Drakkor turned at hearing his name being called. He recognized the voice instantly. Only one person still called him by his first name. It was his cousin, Banndor, who served as his first officer, after refusing countless offers to be promoted. He preferred being close to his cousin, who was now the leader of their lands, rather than advance
through the ranks and attain more power. He was a few years older than Drakkor and the two had grown up together. They had shared many pranks as young boys, and wild adventures as young soldiers. Still, it was only Banndor who was truly aware of the shock that had been felt by their lord Drakkor today when he had faced the prisoners. The last stronghold of rebels had been taken without bloodshed, for a change. The war had been won many months earlier, but small renegade groups of rebel forces had continued to elude the well-organized, expansively equipped and skillfully trained troops of the liege lord. “It’s time for the presentation,” Banndor told his cousin softly. Drakkor met his eyes, and nodded slowly. Banndor signaled to the guards at a door off to the side of the room to begin. A moment later, the doors opened, and the prisoners, or rather, a select few of the prisoners, were brought forward. The prisoners would now be sold into a term of servitude, which would essentially be their imprisonment for their crime against the state. While it might not be the best system, it had suited their people for a very long time, and prevented the need for prisons. Of course, only the most attractive of prisoners would be presented at court tonight. The less intelligent, less attractive and less skilled captives would be presented to the people tomorrow, to be purchased at a much more reasonable price. The crowds parted as they became aware of the “future slaves” now amidst them. A murmur began and spread through the people as they caught sight of some of the prisoners. They had been cleaned up properly, and were now dressed attractively. At the center of the room a raised platform had been placed. An elderly man, whose job this had been for so long no one could remember anyone else ever doing it, took the platform. He made a small bow towards Drakkor, and then turned his attention to the crowd. The cagey old man was well used to the reactions of these noble people to the presentation of slaves. Sometimes the noblest of bidders would act with less composure than one of the common people during their auction for slaves, which would follow tomorrow. When it came to matters of the flesh and sex, everyone’s basic instincts would overtake their haughty educations and wealthy upbringings. He indicated for the first slave to be brought up beside him. The first prisoner was a tall, broad-shouldered man, who could easily have matched
Drakkor in size and strength. The man looked much more presentable than he had when first captured. He was now dressed in soft, silk pants that fit low on his slim hips, and were loose and full cut until they reached the cuffed ankles. He wore across his chest a leather band, draping over his right shoulder and down to his waist. But what caught the eye of the beholder was the silver chain that essentially held it in place, and was attached to nipple rings, which were his newest adornment. The man was handsome and held his blond head proudly. The bidding went fast and furious, until a noble woman, who couldn’t keep her eyes off the man, insisted on examining the auction piece up close. The whole audience quieted as the expensively gowned woman walked around him. “His name?” the slightly older woman asked quietly. Old Adolfus nodded and replied with his head bent low to hide his smile. “I see her ladyship appreciates a fine piece of male meat.” The crowd erupted suddenly with laughter and ribald comments. Adolfus knew that if the crowd got rowdy and worked up, it always made for a much more profitable auction. This, of course, made his profit much greater as well. “Please, my Lady Anselm, feel free to inspect the slave to your satisfaction!” Drakkor glanced over once again at the raised dais. This time he saw the wealthy widow, Anselm, who was known for her sexual proclivities, reach down and fondle the man-slave’s cock and balls. This was no shy, hurried touch, but a slow squeezing and caressing of the man’s private parts, concealed beneath his thin trousers. Drakkor paid little attention as the auction continued. But he was aware the instant that one particular slave was moved up onto the platform. He had been waiting, after instructing the old auctioneer, Adolfus, to ensure this woman was last. He could have claimed her for his own, but he didn’t want to invoke his liege rights. Instead, he had arranged to have his cousin bid on the woman for him. Drakkor turned his head to see where Banndor had moved to the side of the platform, listening as Adolfus extolled the virtues of this woman. As was the custom, the woman had been clothed in a concealing cloth, covering her head, wrapping around her body. Drakkor watched as the old man reached out and slowly began to peel away the cloth. “See the beauty concealed within! Place the first bid and I will reveal even more of
this luscious female. Just imagine spending the night between this slave’s thighs! Her face could easily have graced our ancient statues.” Adolfus extolled the virtues as he continued to unwrap the woman’s body. Drakkor heard the gasp of the crowd as the beautiful woman was revealed. Her face was finely formed with a perfect nose, lips and eyes. Her eyes were green, beneath black brows and surrounded by long, thick black lashes. Her hair was black and fell to her waist in a long, lustrous abundance of curls. He saw she wore the same loose, hip hugging pants as the man had earlier, and as all the slaves offered thus far. The difference was that these were diaphanous, and the sheerest of green material. Drakkor realized that he, and everyone else gathered for the celebration, could see her firm, round buttocks only lightly concealed by the filmy material. Adolfus had her turn slowly, and as she turned towards him Drakkor felt as if a sword’s razor-sharp blade pierced his stomach. Her body was perfect, with very full, firm breasts that tilted upwards pertly. Her nipples were hard, pointed and had been pierced by matching gold rings. A golden chain joined the rings and dipped down about several inches. Around her waist was a matching, very fine golden chain, which dipped low over her belly. Desire shot through him instantly. She was more beautiful than he had recalled, and just hours earlier had been buried beneath several layers of grime and raggedy clothing when he had first seen her after the end of the short battle. He shook his head as he realized how high the bidding had gotten. He looked around and saw that his cousin was bidding against a senior statesman, who he knew was nearing sixty. The other bidder was a very wealthy farmer who had several children and no wife. He realized the farmer was determined to possess the beautiful slave. Drakkor looked at Banndor who was silently questioning if he should bid higher. Against his better judgment, Drakkor stood and bid three times the farmer’s last offer. Silence immediately overtook the crowd as they became aware that he had bid. The farmer shook his head, refusing, quite wisely, to bid against his liege. Adolfus closed the bidding quickly, and then turned the woman to face him. But she didn’t look up into his face; her eyes remained downcast to the ground. Drakkor stepped forward, knowing that no matter what he did now the gossip wouldn’t stop or change. He walked to the woman and reached out to grab the woman’s upper arm. He tugged her forward and began walking out of the reception. The man
who had been auctioned first stepped in front of them abruptly. Drakkor saw the anger in the man’s face, which was staring not at him, but at the woman at his side. He didn’t understand the anger the man was so obviously directing at the woman. He could have understood it directed at himself, if the slave had been the woman’s mate, but his physician had assured him that the woman was untouched. His guards were instantly there, but he signaled them aside. Something changed in the man’s face a moment later and he looked away from her. He moved out of their path. Drakkor didn’t pause but pulled the woman with him out of the reception area.
***** They reached his quarters a few minutes later and he dismissed the guards from his door. Inside the room he released his grip on her slender arm, ignoring the red mark left behind. He walked across the room to the table where a bottle of wine and fruit had been set. Pouring himself a glass, he drank it down quickly. He sat on the long sofa, piled high with pillows, and looked at the woman who stood a short distance away. As he looked at her, she slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. Drakkor held her gaze for a moment, and then insolently dropped his gaze to her full breasts, rising and falling heavily with each rapid and unsteady breath. When he looked back into her eyes, he saw the angry glare directed his way, accompanied by a bright flush on her cheeks. He smiled slowly. “You should have surrendered a year ago, Jocienne. I would have accepted your surrender and allowed you the most generous of terms. But to drag this out for a year— well, my lovely lady, you left me no choice but to pursue your band of rebels to the very end. Your friend looked angry enough to do you bodily harm a minute ago.” Jocienne shook her head in denial of his words. She wouldn’t acknowledge he might be correct. “Now what, Drakkor?” “What, no ‘my lord’?” Jocienne shook her head at him. “I think this charade has gone far enough. I demand my release.” Drakkor leaned back on the sofa, propping his feet on the low table. “You have been sold, per the law of the land, princess. So, from now on, until your period of servitude ends, you belong to me, body and soul.”
Jocienne shivered at his words. She had assumed he would return her to her father’s home, once he had played out his game of power. She had nearly died of embarrassment as he had her paraded nearly naked in front of all those people. There had been some faces and names she’d recognized from her early years, but none had seemed to connect who she had been with the slave on the auction block. She looked down and was again reminded of how her body had been changed for the slave auction. She had thought when they shaved her pubic hair, as well as any remaining underarm and leg hair, that that would be the worst. But then they had numbed her nipples and held her down and pierced them, attaching the gold chain. “Do they hurt, my sweet?” Jocienne looked up and saw that Drakkor was watching her look at her breasts. She shook her head. “Not now, but earlier they did.” Drakkor stood and came around the table walking towards her. He stopped directly in front of her, reaching his hand out and catching his index finger under the chain. He lifted it a little, yet he was careful not to pull on the distended, newly pierced nipples. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with them until they heal completely.” Jocienne couldn’t hide the shiver that shook her body at his words. She had feared that he wouldn’t be buying her to work in his kitchen. It was completely permissible to use your slave for sex. She was sexually attracted to this tall, broad-shouldered man, which only fueled her desire to fight him. But if she fought him now, she would be breaking more than the law. There were certain things held sacred, and obeying the basic credos, such as the slave laws, were just a few. They had been created to maintain order, and they had done so for generations before them. Drakkor reached his hands towards her waist, and deftly he released the catch holding up her pants. The soft material fell to her feet and caught at her ankles, until she stepped free of the cloth. There was no going back and no denying what was going to happen. Somehow, she knew it had always been inevitable, from the first time they met. Drakkor moved her across the room and pressed her back onto the bed. It only took him a few seconds to cast off his own clothes and he came down on the bed beside her.
***** Drakkor kissed her face and slid his hand between her thighs. His fingers skimmed
over her hairless flesh and found her lips wet. He held back his groan of approval, knowing she would only see it as acknowledgement of her weakness. He didn’t care. He wanted her, and he needed desperately to be inside her. Still, he knew that if he took her now, without arousing her passion, her anger and resentment would be directed at him. But if he could bring her body into climactic release first, then those feelings would be directed inwards. Cupping his hand over her mound, he pressed his index finger between her soft folds until he found her clit. The unmistakable jerk of hips told him of his success with his first maneuver. Looking at her face, he saw the stubborn, set look on her. Wiggling his finger a little and pressing upwards, he smiled. “Lift your arms up my sweet, to lie on the pillow.” Drakkor watched as she obeyed, which lifted her breasts into amazingly full round globes mounded on her chest. Her nipples were taut and distended as he lowered his mouth to the closest one. “No… please don’t!” He heard Jocienne pleading softly a second before he tenderly began to lick, encircle and generally entice to become even longer and harder. The soft groan, as well as the increased movements of her hips warned of his success. Beginning a soft, suckling motion, he moved his hand down and slid two fingers inside her pussy. His thumb began an even more earnest dance against her clit until seconds later he witnessed what he was positive was Jocienne’s first orgasm. Drakkor watched as she cried out loudly, almost screaming. Her entire body had jerked spasmodically against him, and now he felt her cunt muscles squeezing on his fingers. Torn between wanting to watch her succumb to her passion and knowing this was the best time to enter, he paused. Her breasts were jiggling and the one longer, wet nipple seemed to be demanding more attention. Shaking his head, he moved over her body and wasted no more time. He thrust into her, breaking the thin barrier that had proclaimed her innocence. She was now his! He held himself still for as long as possible, just savoring the muscles of her cunt spasming around his cock. When he could hold back no more, he began thrusting in and out of her sweet flesh. Over and over, he moved within her heat, feeling the tight pull of
her lips around his cock. Her cunt sucked his cock in even though he knew she didn’t do it consciously. She would fight her body’s responses, and deny any passion she might feel. Drakkor knew that he would have to be patient, if he wanted to unlock her true passion. He could hold back no longer and shot his seed deep into her body. He moved his hands under her hips, tilting her to receive his seed deeply and completely. He wouldn’ t say the words out loud, but he wanted their mating to bear fruit. If she bore him a child, she would have to stay, beyond the terms of her enslavement. Any child born would belong to him alone. At the end of her term of servitude, she would be completely free to leave, but without her child. The child was considered fruit of the contract, and therefore a possession of the owner. Drakkor sensed that she was not the kind of woman to leave her child behind. There would be no going back for her then, which is just what he wanted. He slid from her body with a loud, wet squelching noise as his large cock slid from her small hole. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it under her hips before he pulled the covers up over their bodies. He fell asleep a short time later, after he heard her breathing slow and calm into a restful slumber. Drakkor awoke three times that night, and each time he pulled Jocienne beneath him and filled her body with his seed. And each time, he propped her hips on the pillow. If she didn’t get pregnant, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying on his part.
Chapter 2 Jocienne awoke as the sunlight suddenly fell across her face. She opened her eyes and saw that two young servant girls, and one older woman, were standing in the room, looking at her. She blushed and hastily pulled the covers to her neck. The older woman shook her head and yanked the covers from her hands. “Come along, slave. Your master wants you bathed and ready to join him for a meal in less than an hour. We don’t have much time to get you ready.” Jocienne was almost dragged from the bed, intensely aware of her nakedness. She felt the seed of last night’s numerous mating begin seeping from her body as she was pressed towards the bath. She flushed as she remembered how many times he had emptied his seed in her body. She knew perfectly well what he was doing as he lifted her hips onto the pillow each time. Her attention was called back to the present as she was helped into the large tub and was further surprised as the young girls hurried to bathe and prepare her. The two girls had shaved her legs and underarms, and after the bath, they had again taken pains to shave her lower abdomen and pussy. A short time later she sat quietly while the one girl combed her hair to dry it. She was served a light offering of fruit, and given wine to sip. Once her hair was dry, her face was accented delicately with henna to blush her cheeks, and a deeper coating applied to her lips, to make them look full and pouting. She had once again been dressed in only a sheer pair of pants, which were full and gathered, tight at her ankles. But when she requested something to cover her top half, the old woman laughed and shook her head. They slipped the tiniest of sandals over her feet and then she was led from his quarters. It was a long walk to the meeting chambers. Jocienne flushed as she passed people in the hall, aware of their eyes roaming over her half-naked body. If Drakkor had wanted to shame her, and make her aware of her drastic change in status, then he was completely successful. As she entered the throne room, she was aware of the momentary silence. She knew she was the object of many gazes as she walked slowly towards where Drakkor was
speaking with several titled men of his kingdom. She had been instructed that she was to stand three feet behind Drakkor and remain silent until he noticed her. She took her position, which also included clasping her hands together below her waist, elbows only slightly bent. She was to keep her head bent and eyes downcast, until ordered otherwise. The position forced her to notice that the position pressed her large breasts together and formed a deep cleavage, making the chain between her nipples dip down just a bit and begin a gentle swinging motion.
***** Drakkor had noticed her the moment she entered the room. She was just as beautiful as she had been last night. His memory had been correct, he was glad to see. He had surreptitiously watched her walk across the long room, enjoying how each step had her breasts bouncing and jiggling constantly. He had been sorely tempted to keep Jocienne in bed, but he had also known that she was a proud woman. He knew only by making her constantly aware of her new status would he be able to truly humble her. Drakkor didn’t want to break her spirit; he just wanted her to know who was master, and who was slave. Drakkor stood and continued speaking to the other noblemen for nearly 20 minutes. He was aware of how their eyes strayed to the woman behind him. Finally, he turned and faced Jocienne. Reaching towards her, he put one finger beneath her chin and raised her face to his. He held her eyes for several moments, not saying a word, and then he indicated for the luncheon to be served. Drakkor took his seat, which was a rather grandiose chair that his father had fancied. At the side of his chair was a smaller one, set back just enough so the table couldn’t be reached. Drakkor pointed at the chair, and Jocienne took the seat. He could tell by the quizzical look on her face that she was not sure what the placement of the chair meant. There was little doubt that she had assumed it would be her place to serve Drakkor. But in this position, it would be nearly impossible, unless she were to be on her knees beside him. The food was soon served, and Jocienne noticed there was a plate set for her. She was surprised when after a few bites of food Drakkor turned and offered a piece of fruit to her with his fingers. She lifted her hand to take it, but he shook his head, placing the
fruit at her lips, and pressing against them until she opened her mouth. He slid the piece into her mouth, and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip as she started to chew. He turned back to the table and the conversation. Every few minutes, he turned and placed another morsel of food at her lips. He even held his wine cup to her lips several times, for her to take a sip. He didn’t speak to her once. Jocienne looked around the table, while keeping her head slightly bent down. She became aware of a beautiful blond woman, who kept calling Drakkor’s name, trying to capture his attention. She couldn’t help but wonder who the woman was, why she was so obviously trying to flirt with him. Her anger made no sense, and she told herself that it wasn’t anger at all. And it certainly wasn’t jealousy! She was shocked when, several courses into the meal, music started and two women were pushed into the open area of the room. Both women were dressed as she had been, but each had experienced a good deal more body modification than she had. One woman she barely recognized as having been in her band of rebels. Her name was Shanti, Jocienne recalled, but from there the resemblance to the woman she had been was gone. Shanti’s hair had been cut quite short, to her head, leaving a blonde one-inch buzz cut all over her scalp. Her brows had been plucked to thin lines over her eyes. Her ears had multiple piercing and her nose piercing was joined to her left ear by a fine chain. Jocienne saw her lips looked much fuller as well. It was impossible to not see the unrealistically large breasts that bounced wildly with her dancing. Her nipples had been pierced, but their chain went down below the fabric of her trousers. In some of her movements, Jocienne thought she saw rings hanging down between the woman’s legs. She grimaced in sympathy for the woman as she realized that her pussy lips had been pierced as well. Suddenly her attention was drawn towards the other woman dancing. Or she had been dancing until a man grabbed her. Without a pause he pushed her down to the floor, into a kneeling position. His hands jerked her trousers down past her hips, and then he pushed her face towards the floor. A moment later his hand was between the woman’s thighs. Jocienne couldn’t see too well, but it soon became obvious that the woman was being fingered erotically. Her hips were undulating, her breasts bouncing and her cries
signaled both of her orgasms, just before they happened. Unaware she did it, Jocienne gasped out loud when the man shifted his own clothing aside to reveal his hard cock. A second later, he shoved it into the woman. Both hands closed on her hips and he began thrusting wildly in and out of the woman at his feet. She jumped in her seat a moment later as she felt a hand enclose her right breast, squeezing it firmly. Her eyes moved down and saw a masculine hand massaging her flesh. It surprised her that she had not noticed Drakkor moving his chair closer to hers. As she looked from his hand to his face, the grin on his face angered and embarrassed her. “I can’t tell by your face whether you are aroused by the sexual act in front of us, or you are embarrassed. Obviously you are quite distracted.” Drakkor paused and moved his hand to her other breast, beginning to squeeze and mold it with his palm and fingers. “What about the other woman? Perhaps I should have your body modified. Would you like bigger tits? Every breath you took would make them jiggle and shake. You would constantly be aware of them, especially your pierced nipples.” Jocienne flushed hotly at his words. The wetness between her thighs was growing and she wanted to ignore it! Perhaps she could pretend it wasn’t happening— “Or perhaps you would like to have your ass enlarged? That is what Edward did with his slave over there. Here that slapping sound? He said he wanted to bounce when he fucked his slave. You would have to agree that he has been successful.” Jocienne had noticed the woman’s very rounded and full ass cheeks as she had danced. The man called Edward was indeed bouncing off her flesh with each forward thrust. Her breath caught in her chest as Jocienne realized that she was becoming more aroused as she watched the other couple fornicating in front of everyone. “I could fuck you, Jocienne, right here in front of all these people.” She gasped in shock at how his words so easily mirrored her thoughts a second earlier. Surely she had no desire to be treated in such a cavalier fashion! Her eyes moved towards the other woman, staring at the large breasts bouncing and shaking and knocking into each other and starting it all over again. Her own breasts had always been big and she had been embarrassed by their size as she grew. It had been good to dress in loose clothing and live an asexual life after she’d left her father’s home.
But now her blood was boiling along her veins and her nerves seemed to be singing in reaction to Drakkor’s words. His hands on her body last night and now today had quickly proven that she was not repelled by his touch, despite her brain telling her she should be. In fact, if he were to order her to her knees in front of him right now, she would do it! Her body was already craving his touches upon her skin. Suddenly her inner flesh tightened upon itself, startling her. A moment later, it did it again. Jocienne was shocked to realize that her flesh was demanding his cock inside her. She had felt this same contraction last night in Drakkor’s bed. It had been the fourth time that he’d awakened her and she had forced her lips to whisper softly. “We must not!” Drakkor had lifted his mouth from her left breast reluctantly; from the slow, wet lick he gave it with his tongue. “Give me one reason why! Not five, or even ten, Jocienne. Just give me one.” Jocienne had felt his cock between her pussy lips, pressing firmly along them. Her mind had struggled to find the words to express why he should leave her… she knew there must be a good reason. Then her body had contracted, once, twice and Drakkor had shifted his body until the head of his cock was poised to enter her flesh again. She had been shocked to realize that it was as if her pussy was trying to suck him inside, or gobble him up. “Feel your pretty pussy, my sweet. It wants me inside you. This lovely pussy is sucking my cock inside. It needs to feel my big cock shoved up inside it. You need to know my cock is stuffed in your body and my seed is spraying your fertile womb. It isn’ t just your body that wants me plowing your belly. Your mind wants to know you carry my child in your belly. Your breasts want to suckle my child. This exquisite body demands my entrance and the placement of my seed. I can feel your cunt nibbling and pulling my cock inside. Every part of your body is demanding that I fuck you, isn’t it, my pretty princess? Deny it, if you dare!” Jocienne had opened her mouth to scream at him to release her. The words that had left her lips shocked her… or that is what she had told herself silently. “Fuck me! Fuck me now, damn it!” A moment later Drakkor’s cock had thrust between her wet pussy lips, burying itself to the hilt. He had pushed her thighs up and told her to hold them with her arms.
Jocienne had obeyed him and soon she heard the wet, slapping noise of his balls following each thrust into her body. Each movement had been met with a grunt of her own. They had sounded like rutting animals, she had been shocked to realize. What was even more unsettling was that she hadn’t cared. All she had wanted was the feel of his cock, hot and hard, cramming up into her belly. Her climax had surprised her and she cried out in long, moaning, almost screaming yelps. After a few moments, while her cunt still spasmed, she had felt his seed entering her body. In that moment, Jocienne had wanted his seed to find fruit in her womb. She wanted his child to grow in her belly. The need to watch her tummy expand, her breasts swell with milk had been overwhelming. With his last thrust inside her, Jocienne had passed out, literally.
***** In the throne room, Drakkor reluctantly removed his hand from the luscious tits of his lovely slave. He kept saying the word to remind himself of their true positions. Taking a piece of meat dipped in gravy, he brought it to Jocienne’s mouth. Without pause, he smeared the gravy over her lips before he allowed her to eat the meat. Drakkor enjoyed the feel of Jocienne’s lips against his fingers. Her lower lip was full and sensual, and at one point a drop wine of clung to it precariously after she took a sip of his drink. He almost groaned out loud when her tongue slipped out and licked up the errant drop. If he kept this conversation going, he would soon have her kneeling in front of him and slaking his need within her flesh yet again. Commotion on the dance floor drew his attention. The man who just minutes earlier had been fornicating doggie style was now pulling the large-breasted woman off the floor. He sat in his chair, freed his hard cock and pushed the woman’s head down. His hands thrust into the slave’s long hair as her mouth moved up and down his manhood. Drakkor turned his head to watch Jocienne’s reaction to this sexual display. It was easy to see the shock and surprise on her face. Somehow he doubted the princess had ever witnessed a demonstration of oral sex before. Shifting in his chair, he leaned closer to Jocienne. Her eyes seemed to be glued to the couple as Drakkor slid his hand between her thighs. The trousers were slit and his fingers immediately felt her wet flesh. She might deny her reaction verbally but her body told its own story as he slid two
fingers into her cunt. Immediately he felt the tiny contractions and vibrations already happening deep inside her body. Watching her face, Drakkor began manipulating his fingers inside her body while moving his thumb between wet folds to work her clit. The flare of her eyes opening wide followed by the tension he felt inside her body, told him something was happening between the couple.
***** Jocienne gasped as she felt Drakkor’s fingers inside her. She told herself to protest, but before she could do more than think that one thought, the slave’s owner halfway across the room was demanding something. He was saying something— “Give me something to cut this hair! I want to see her lips around my cock.” The next moment long strands of hair were being flung aside. The woman tried to lift her mouth, but her owner forbade her. Soon hair was strewn down her back and on the floor around them as the man continued to cut off her lovely brown hair. Jocienne watched in disbelief as the woman’s beautiful head of hair was quickly reduced to a half inch bristled cut all around. Some places were a little shorter or longer, but despite the man coming in the woman’s mouth almost as he cut the last hair, he had been surprisingly accurate in his cuts. The woman’s upset cries as her hands lifted to rub over the super short hair was barely heard by Jocienne as her body orgasmed that same moment. Embarrassed and wishing she could stop, she felt her body climax in her chair. Over and over her hips bucked against the hand which had so cleverly been orchestrating and controlling her reactions. Her hands had clenched over the arms of her chair and wetness was now flowing over Drakkor’s hand. Dimly she became aware that his eyes were watching her face the whole time. A heated blush covered her upper chest and face while her hips still danced to his tune of arousal. She was aware that her breasts had been bouncing wildly enough to make the chain jingle. Drakkor finally removed his hand from her wet pussy. Her eyes followed his as they lowered to his equally wet hand. She saw him grin as he rubbed his wet hand all over her naked breasts. “Now that was fun,” he told her softly while his hand spread her gooey wetness all
over her breasts. “Who needs a towel when I have these pretty titties to dry my fingers?” Turning his head, he saw that the now shorn slave was still crying quietly, and rubbing her new bristly-brush cut. “What made you come so hard, my sweet slave? Was it watching everyone else fornicating, or seeing that woman’s hair being cut against her will?” Jocienne jerked her head sideways and met Drakkor’s intense gaze. Her honest answer surprised her, as well as her inquisitor. “I don’t know.”
Chapter 3 Drakkor stood abruptly, which caught everyone’s attention in the large room. Reaching down he curled his hand around Jocienne’s upper arm and pulled her up to stand beside him. Without a word to anyone, he left the room, pulling Jocienne close beside him. “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly, walking quickly to keep pace with Drakkor. It was obvious to her that he didn’t care how much attention they caused as he walked her swiftly through the halls back to his rooms. Inside his chambers, he moved without pause over to the bed. The quickness of his movements caused Jocienne to trip and fall onto the bed just as he released her arm. Drakkor turned to ring the service bell for a servant. When two serving girls entered the room accompanied by two quite large and muscular guards, Jocienne hastily tried to cover herself with bed covers. It was almost as if her “master” could read her mind because he grabbed the covers and tossed them aside. “Make sure we are not disturbed until I ring again!” he told them, turning to look down at Jocienne. “Prepare our evening meal to be served in my rooms.” Jocienne was intently aware of her sprawled position on the bed when Drakkor reached over and unfastened the ornate trousers she was wearing. His hands pulled them down past her hips and off her legs. As she watched him shedding his clothes a moment later, a buried voice in her head told her she must protest. “This is wrong!” Drakkor smiled at her weak protest. “Why is that, princess? Tell me why my eyes should not feast upon your beauty as one enjoys the fine curves of a magnificent sculpture or the intricate brush strokes of a lovely painting.” Jocienne frowned at his words. Praising her beauty was something she had not heard for a very long time. “What I look like should not matter, Lord Drakkor.” Drakkor’s smile curved his lips upwards and Jocienne felt something move inside her, but she didn’t want to acknowledge what it might mean. “Of course it matters, Jocienne. Beauty has always been a powerful motivator for men. Have not many wars in
both our region’s histories told a similar tale time and again?” Jocienne watched as he lowered himself to lie beside her on the bed. She half expected him to thrust inside her without further ado, just as she had seen that other man do a short time earlier. Instead, Drakkor reached out with his hand and lightly ran his finger down over her forehead, between her eyes and down the curve of her nose. When he reached her lips, he traced the outside of her mouth with a gentle, whisper-light touch. “Beauty is what draws a man and woman together. Would you be as affected by my touch if I were an old man? What would your reaction be if my flesh hung from my bones instead of being stretched taut by my muscles, hardened from hours of practice with my soldiers?” Jocienne shrugged, unsure of an answer. Drakkor didn’t wait long for an answer though. “I do not deny that your beautiful, clear eyes are what caught my attention when we first met all those years ago. We were only children, but I knew that you were promised to me.” Drakkor moved his hand down to cup her breast. “As your body developed, I lusted after you for long hours into the night. I spent countless hours imagining us like this, in a bed together. My hand was the only way to satisfaction until I discovered that I could imagine your face while I fucked another woman’s body.” “No!” Jocienne cried out, feeling her tears beginning to slide out the sides of her eyes, wetting her temples and hair. She watched as Drakkor lowered his head and enveloped her closest nipple with his mouth. He sucked the taut and distended bud gently, teasing the ring with his tongue. “Oh yes, my slave! No more!” Drakkor shifted and started to move down Jocienne’s body. His mouth pressed kisses to her belly as he continued to work his way towards the apex of her thighs. Suddenly Drakkor slid off the bed to kneel at the side and dragged Jocienne with him until her knees dropped over the edge. When she felt his breath flowing over her shaven mound, she pressed her upper body off the bed with her elbows and hands. “You should not do this, Drakkor,” her voice told him softly. Drakkor shook his head and lifted her one thigh to drape over his shoulder. “Why shouldn’t I? I want to pleasure your body. I want to hear you scream out as another
orgasm drowns your senses and your fluids drench my face instead of my hand. No more words!” Drakkor lowered his head and a second later Jocienne experienced the feel of a man’ s lips and tongue on her pussy and clit. Soon his fingers joined in the sensual seduction, slipping inside her body to probe for that special place.
***** Drakkor licked his tongue over and around her tiny bud of flesh, hidden beneath the hood of soft lips. Her body jerked and reacted wildly to his touches again. He felt her fingers in his hair, pulling and trying to move him away. For some unknown reason, her father had broken their bridal contract shortly after Jocienne’s fifteenth birthday. That had been the last time he had seen her until the other day. Her arrival at his father’s home had been set for when she was sixteen. Jocienne was to live in his father’s castle until age eighteen, when they would be wed. His father began sending emissaries to his old friend’s palace, to inquire as to why the girl had not been sent as promised. He and his father, along with a large contingent of soldiers, had arrived on Jocienne’s seventeenth birthday. This time they were denied entrance to the palace grounds at all. Among the royal families, except in times of war, such treatment was unheard of. Drakkor’s father had exercised amazing restraint as they camped outside the grounds for almost a month. Drakkor himself knew that if it were not for his father, he would have acted much sooner. Finally, his father declared war, due to breach of the wedding contract. As the war raged on, Drakkor lost his father, and not long after, his mother. Rumors circulated which claimed Jocienne had run off with a knight in her father’s household, until finally it leaked out that she had been sent to a convent when she was fifteen. His mind had run rampant over what would have caused a father to send his only child away so suddenly, and then break ties with a life-long friend, Drakkor’s father. Both men were now dead, and Drakkor was the winner with Jocienne in his bed. She tugged harder on his hair and Drakkor reluctantly lifted his mouth from her flesh. “It is wrong!” she told him in a strained voice, her eyes showing her personal torment between the teachings drummed into her head for more than two years by the convent nuns and the passion she was feeling beneath his hands.
Drakkor met her eyes and shook his head. “How could anything that feels this good and right be wrong, Jocienne?” Jocienne sank back onto the bed, her hands knotting in the sheets beneath her instead of his hair. Drakkor returned his tongue to the seductive teasing of her clit while his fingers resumed their erotic dance inside her body. A few seconds later, or perhaps a minute, he heard Jocienne crying out. Her body was climaxing and he licked the passion juices her body rewarded his efforts with a moment later. “Fuck me, Drake!” Jocienne screamed using the childhood name she would call him when they played their games alone.
***** Jocienne shocked herself as she demanded that Drakkor take possession of her body once again. Her body was contracting, shivering and jerking in response to his touch. She could feel her cunt muscles begging to suck his cock into her flesh. “I need you inside me… I can’t explain it, Drake. Fill me with your cock!” Drakkor thrust into her body a second later. Without his telling her, Jocienne pulled her legs upwards and held them in place. She looked into his eyes as she spoke again. “Tell me what you want me to do. What can I do to make this—” Drakkor eased back from her tight flesh. “Turn over, Jocie, and raise up on your knees.” Jocienne’s gasp of acknowledgement was loud as she realized he wanted her like the slave they had seen earlier. Her heart raced and she nervously caught her breath. She flipped over on the bed and came up onto her knees. Drakkor’s hand pressed on her upper back, directing her to lower her head to the bed. Suddenly the silence in the room seemed to be an active presence as her senses went into overdrive. Her breasts hung heavily from her body. The taut, pierced nipples brushed against the silky sheets with each breath. She could feel her pussy quivering and wondered if Drake could see its tiny explosive reactions. A moment later she felt his cock pressing against her wet flesh and the quivering skin spread as he entered her body. His entry was slow, making it last as her cunt gobbled him inside. Drakkor’s hands moved from her hips as he rested fully inside Jocienne’s body. She felt his large hands stroking over her ass cheeks, curling his strong fingers into the round
globes. His touch, the caress of hands across her skin, reminded her of the gentleness they once shared. Closing her mind to the past, Jocienne sighed and pressed back against him, wiggling her bottom. “Keep that up, Jocie, and this won’t last long!” Drakkor groaned and his hands moved to her hips. “Now! Do it now, Drake! Don’t wait… please!” Jocienne felt him pulling back and a moment later he thrust into her again. Jocienne groaned, as she felt fuller than she had before. Before she could get used to the feeling, Drakkor’s hands were holding her hips steady and he began thrusting forward into her body. The slap of his balls against her wet pussy and mound seemed loud to her, but then she was distracted by the realization that this position was causing sensations and feelings that were new, wildly erotic and spiraling beyond any kind of control. Jocienne climaxed again and shoved her hips back against Drakkor’s forward movement. She heard him shout and felt his hands clench into the flesh at her hips. His short, quick thrusts came suddenly and Jocienne knew that he was spraying her womb with his seed.
***** Drakkor held his body pressed closed to Jocienne’s as his cock stopped jetting his cum into Jocienne’s body. He grabbed several pillows and pushed them under her belly before he pulled out of her body. As he sat down beside her, he told her with a smile. “You need to stay like this for a little while.” Drakkor flopped back to lie next to her, turning his head to look into her eyes. “God, Jocie! That was incredible!” A bright flush stained Jocienne’s cheeks a moment later. Drakkor rolled onto his side and slid one hand forward under her body. He began to lightly flick against her nipple with his finger. “Once you have a big belly, we’ll be making love this way until the baby is born. I keep wondering how big your tits will get when you are breast-feeding. By that time your nipples will be healed enough to remove the rings for feedings.” Drakkor paused as he felt the shiver that went through her body. “Your body certainly changed a lot since I last saw you.” “I was only fifteen!” Jocienne pushed the pillows away. She moved quickly and
straddled Drakkor’s waist. “And you don’t look much like you did either!” Drakkor was surprised at Jocienne’s actions. The look on her face appeared almost playful to him. He moved his hands to her waist and her hands came forward to rest on his chest. It was impossible to look away from the deep cleavage her breasts now formed, pressed closely together by her arms. The chain dangled much lower and swung back and forth. “I was twenty-one the last time you saw me. Granted I’ve aged a little, but I am quite sure that I am as fit now as I was then.” He paused and encouraged her to lift him. His cock was hard again, her flesh wet and soft to welcome him eagerly inside once again. “I won’t dispute that, Lord Drakkor. But you are bigger now; more solid is perhaps the word I am searching for.” “Hmm. I’m not sure how to take that one. But if we want to talk about something getting bigger—” Drakkor slid his hands upwards. His fingers spread to cover her breasts as best he could. “A gentleman wouldn’t mention this,” Jocienne told him quietly, sliding her hands to rest on her thighs. Her breasts, no longer forced together by her arms, filled his hands more fully. “Perhaps that is true, my sweet. But any man would notice the change between a flat-chested girl and these fine specimens of womanhood.” His hands began to busily squeeze and caress her large breasts. His fingers would tease her nipples every so often, lightly circling the quickly elongating nipples, and occasionally flicking at the rings and tugging on the chain lightly. Every so often his hands would bounce and jiggle each bountiful, fleshy globe. Drakkor couldn’t resist her nipples, which now poked out nearly three-fourths of an inch. Deserting her breasts for a moment, his hands lowered to the bed so he could push his upper body towards her breasts. His mouth lowered until he could lick each pierced nipple. His tongue tugged gently on the ring and the slight tensing of her body told him she was still quite tender. Lifting his head, he flopped back onto the bed. He smiled up at her. “As soon as those pretty nipples are healed, I am going to show you the many different ways I can suck and play with them.” The shiver that coursed through Jocienne’s body, right down to the muscles that
were surrounding his cock, could not be missed. Drakkor groaned and shifted his hips upwards. He was surprised a moment later when Jocienne began to move her hips, making small circular movements, followed by some very erotic forward and backward shifting of her body. “Damn!” Drakkor muttered, gripping Jocienne’s undulating body with his hands. “You didn’t like that? Master,” she added so softly that Drakkor wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. Narrowing his lids, he met the eyes of the woman he’d loved for as long as he could remember. Childhood friendship had changed over time. When he had come with his father to fetch his bride, Drakkor had known that he loved Jocienne. He opened his mouth to reply when Jocienne interrupted him. The corners of her full lips curved upwards slightly. He felt her hands move to his chest, her palms directly over his nipples. A moment later her fingers were curling under and biting into his flesh. “Ugh,” Drakkor muttered in response to the slight stinging pain. “The kitten has tiny claws, does she?”
Chapter 4 Jocienne relaxed her fingers and slowly began tightening the flesh and muscles that held him inside her body. Watching his face, she saw the changes the instant he felt them. His will was still as strong as hers, she had realized earlier with a start of surprise. And while she was unsure yet as to why he had purchased her, in his eyes she saw the friend she had had until shortly after her fifteenth birthday. Whatever his true feelings for her might be now, she was falling under his sexual spell. There was also the growing fear that her love for him was returning as well. Abruptly she tensed her thighs and began lifting and lowering her body. The slow drag of his cock back out of her tight pussy, followed by the erotic reinsertion left her shaking after only a few movements. A moment later she heard her own voice telling him things she’d rather have kept secret. “I can feel you so deep inside me, Drake. You have stuffed me full of your hard cock, and all I want is more. I want to feel the hot spurt of your seed inside my body.” She clutched her fingers again into his chest muscles as her cunt muscles responded to her words. “Fill me with your cum, Master. I want to drip your seed and know that you were inside me such a short time ago. And when you speak of a child—” Jocienne’s voice trailed away and she closed her eyes. Her hands left his body and moved to curve over her belly. “I can almost feel your child growing in me already! Yet how can that be? When you talked about him suckling at my breasts… Oh, God!” Jocienne stopped as her muscles reacted to her words. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Drakkor move one hand towards the juncture of their joined bodies. His finger was quickly coated with her juices and he began to dance a truly seductive rhythm upon her clit, delving deep within the tender folds of flesh that concealed it. She moved her hand to his. “Are you taking control once again, Master?” she questioned him quietly. “I think you are the one in control here, slave! You seem to be able to manipulate my body more skillfully than a highly trained courtesan.” “Is that what I am to you now, Drake? Will I be your whore for the rest of my life,
long after you cast me aside for another woman? I fear I will always crave this, no matter what my brain tells my body.” Her eyes closed as she accepted the truth of her words. “Is that all this is? Am I only a slave for you to fuck?”
***** Drakkor’s hand paused in its steady and very effective movements. Her hips were gyrating and bouncing on his cock, and he sensed that soon he would feel her climax once again. Which would naturally set off his, and he would be shooting his cum into her body. Her words brought back the pain of the rejection he’d felt when he first heard the rumor that Jocienne had eloped with another man. Then he heard the story about her entering a convent. He’d been tortured to think that she’d chosen a life of celibacy rather than his touch. Suddenly he reached up and grabbed fistfuls of her beautiful hair. Pain and anger drove his words and actions. “Why did you go to that damned convent? Did I scare you with my first eager touches? Did they cut all your hair off? Is that what aroused you watching that woman’s humiliation? Perhaps that is what you want me to do.” It only took a second and Drakkor was holding a knife, which had been hidden, at the top of the bed. He lifted it to the lock of her hair he still held in one hand. Without pause he sliced through the hair, severing it off forever. The hair seemed to burn his hand and he released it instantly and it fell to his abdomen. Shocked at his violent action, Drakkor flung the knife across the room and it embedded itself deeply into the wall. Looking up at Jocienne’s face he saw that her freshly cut hair flopped limply across her cheek. Her face was tilted down and the hair, shorn to mid-cheek on one side, fell forward and concealed her expression. He wasn’t sure what she would do until a second later she erupted. Her hands beat at his chest and tried to slap his face. But she also erupted internally. Her orgasm seemed to come from nowhere and was shaking her violently. Drakkor grabbed her body and pulled her down to his chest, despite her fighting. He twisted their bodies until he was lying on top of her. His hands pressed her arms flat to the bed on either side of her head. For one of the few times in his life, Drakkor was unsure of whether to continue, or— “Fuck me, damn you!” Jocienne screamed at him, her voice echoing off the walls.
“Fuck me now!” Drakkor obeyed the true master in this new relationship of his and fucked the beautiful woman beneath him. Over and over he thrust his cock into her body, pulling back out and feeling her flesh sucking his cock and holding onto it tenaciously. He blocked out the voice in his head telling him to stop. It was too late for logic. As he felt her cunt climaxing, he groaned and began shooting his seed as high into her body as he possibly could.
***** Drakkor awakened slowly and reluctantly. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep, but instinctively he reached out to pull Jocienne close. His hand only found empty linens and he sat up immediately. Completely alert now, Drakkor looked around the room. His eyes caught on the knife still embedded in the far wall. He cursed his father’s need for over-protectiveness, which had been the start of hiding the knife under his pillow at the beginning of the war. “You made an awful mess of my hair, damn you.” Drakkor turned at the sound of the calm voice, in spite of the words. Jocienne was walking towards him, naked. One breast was concealed by her long hair and the other was bare, save for its adorning ring and chain. Her beautiful black hair was cut to half way up her earlobe. He had grabbed such a large handful that the cut extended to back beyond her ear. “God, Jocie! I am so sorry!” Jocienne nodded as she came to sit beside him on the bed. “I was angry as well. Yes, they cut all my hair off at the convent. It was horrible to sit there while those old nuns hacked it off almost to my scalp. And then it was given away to stuff someone’s pillow!” “Why did you go, darling? I loved you!” “I loved you as well. Do you remember at my birthday celebration, meeting my cousin Albert? He attempted—” Jocienne’s voice failed at saying the words. “My father believed him when he claimed to have succeeded, hoping my father would allow him to marry me. Instead, my father sent me to the convent. He didn’t want to face his friend, your father… When the war started, I ran away from the convent.” Drakkor pulled Jocienne into his arms, hugging her tightly. “My God!” He lifted his
hands to cup the sides of her face. His fingers reluctantly touched her hair. “Damn my temper! I can’t begin to tell you how hurt and angry I was when I first learned about you choosing the convent life. Nothing you had ever said or done indicated that my feelings were not returned.” Jocienne lifted her hands to cover Drakkor’s. “I loved you with a young girl’s heart. You were my friend, first and foremost. I was ashamed by Albert’s touches, and knowing that he had taken, in some part, what I had promised to you in my heart.” She stopped as she saw Drakkor stiffen his back. “Forget the past, Drake. I am yours for as long you desire me.” Drakkor stood and walked a short distance from the bed. “I did go to the convent looking for you as soon as I found out, but you were gone.” After several long moments, he looked back over his shoulder and saw that Jocienne was still seated on his bed. Even with the chopped-off hair, she was beautiful. His anger at her rejection, followed by the war that had erupted between their two lands, had spurred his need to humiliate her and have her as his slave. The anger was gone now. Facing her, he crossed to come down on one knee beside her. “Marry me, Jocienne. I was a fool to think selling you as a slave would set things right. I believe the only way we can be happy is for us to be together, to be wed, as originally planned.” Jocienne smiled softly. “You don’t have to marry me, Drake. I am yours, and I always have been.” Drakkor stood before her, shaking his head. “We will be married, as soon as things can be properly arranged.” Jocienne reached her hand down to Drakkor’s flat abdomen and closed around his cock. Its response was immediate and Jocienne slid down to kneel in front of Drakkor. Both hands began to caress his hard rod. Lowering her mouth she began to lick him, all around, before she took him into her heat. Sucking slowly, she soon sped up her movements until her mouth and hands worshipped his cock with equal fervor. Drakkor’ s hands lifted to her head, threading through the soft strands. “Stop!” he moaned a few minutes later and his hands pulled her up and then pushed her backwards onto the bed. “Ooh!” Jocienne barely had time to gasp before he thrust into her wet flesh. “I
thought you would like—” Drakkor grinned down at Jocienne, thrusting quickly into her body. “I do like that, Jocie, but I need to be inside you. Only when I am joined with you do I feel right.” Jocienne lifted her legs and locked them around Drakkor’s hips. “I know… me too. Oh, God! Yes!” Drakkor felt Jocienne’s body milking and sucking his cock until a moment or two later he jerked forward and started to cum inside her. Over and over, wishing this could last for hours, he continued to thrust and shoot more hot streams of seed into her womb. Exhausted, he slumped to rest on her body, still joined. He slowly became aware that her legs were still locked around him. “I’m crushing you, Jocienne.” “Stay for another moment or two,” she whispered into his ear, her breath lightly stirring his hair. “I do have a pre-marital request though.” Drakkor lifted his head and frowned down at her. “Yes?” “I think I would like to play slave and master once in a while.” Drakkor laughed loudly and then kissed Jocienne’s smiling lips. “Any other requests I can fulfill for my lady love?” Jocienne lowered her legs and then lifted her hand. She slapped him one sharp, but stinging slap on his left ass cheek. His surprise was obvious. “Hey!” Jocienne lifted her head and met his lips, kissing him deeply. “Sometimes you get to be the slave!” Drakkor’s laughter filled the room as he wrapped his arms around his formerly rebellious slave. He had no doubt the life they would now have would be filled with love, passion and certainly joy.
Also by Mlyn Hurn
Blood Dreams Family Secrets Burning Desires
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc. www.ellorascave.com
