 |
|||
|
|
The following totally fictitious writings of M Coolham are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.
This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone violence of any sort.
The following is under Copyright and is for your sole enjoyment. Your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested. Thank you.
Interrogation of an Amazon
CHAPTER SEVEN
Journey
Glaina had been taken to the sailor's recreation quarters, a long room that stretched the length of the ship. Soldiers and crewmen jostled for space on the crowded deck, the Amazon standing in the centre of the throng. The air was stale, rank with the stench of unwashed bodies. Hammocks strung from oak beams used every available inch of the ceiling. Both of the boat's masts passed through the room acting as supports. Cannons ran along the walls, four each side, their barrels pointing outwards through open portholes. The floor was littered with pieces of rope, dirty clothing, shoes, and other personal possessions. Swords, bows, arrows, and knives were stored in an arsenal at the rear. Rats cowered in the corners.
Evening was drawing in and lanterns had been lit. The oil lamps hung from the rafters, their black smoke clogging the atmosphere.
"There's something familiar about you," said Trem, the ship's bos'un. He moved closer to the Amazon. "Have we met before?'
The blindfolded woman looked in the direction of the voice. The lasso had been removed but her wrists and elbows remained tied.
"Hey," said Trem, pulling at the warrior's hair. "I'm talking to you".
Glaina shook her head disgusted by his touch.
"If we had I'd have killed you," she spat.
"Mmmm. Feisty!" said Trem, smiling. "Nice".
The men looked on. None wished to interrupt the fearsome bos'un.
Trem turned to face the audience.
"Who else thinks they've seen her before?" he asked, his arms spread wide, always the showman.
A voice from the back. "She resembles that woman in the square".
Another from the left. "You mean the bitch who squealed when she was whipped?"
The voice from the back again. "Yes. Her hair's different, but she's got the same body".
It pained Glaina to hear them talk. She knew they referred to her twin.
Trem looked back at the Amazon.
"Have you a sister my pretty friend?" he asked.
She looked away, but the bos'un had noticed the change in her mouth.
"That other bodyguard's your sister isn't she?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.
No reaction from Glaina.
He continued to taunt her.
"The one who was stripped and left to bake in the sun. She's your sister!!"
He sensed a chink in her armour.
"I hear she stood up well to being beaten". He was on a roll. "She was silent during her whipping but shrieked like a stuck pig when that bastard poured vinegar into her wounds".
The Amazon fought to retain her self-control. This was harder to bear than any physical punishment.
Trem picked up a wooden club from the floor.
"Goodness knows what ordeals she's been put through since she was snared," he continued, poking her in the stomach with the club's handle. "She's the dungeon master's favourite type. All breasts and muscle. Imagine, perhaps she's writhing in agony as we stand here. Probably begging for mercy".
He laughed. The others were silent.
"Going to rescue her are you?'
He pushed the woman against one of the masts. She stumbled on a piece of rope but managed to hold her footing.
"Next stop for your sister will be the soldiers' harem. And when we get back I'm going to be first in line".
Glaina lunged at the man, kicking out in his direction. He guessed she'd snap and was ready for her, sidestepping away from her foot.
"Untie me, coward," she hissed. "Let me see you. Call yourself a man. Fight me one on one".
"Later," he said, smacking the club against her thigh more as a tease than in anger. "We have other entertainment first".
Trem turned to Wex, his number two.
"Bring over one of the cannons", he said. "Position it here". He pointed to a spot in the middle of the room. "Where everyone can see".
* * *
The men were tired. They had carried Sempha for two days. Rufus noticed that the upper deck was empty. Only the lookout, positioned in the crows nest that topped the principle mast, saw the group arrive. Rufus waved to his colleague who reciprocated, the sailor too high up to get a good look at the bound woman. The sentry could see that she was blonde, and clothed, but little else.
The group leader walked up the gangplank and down into the ship heading towards the Admiral's cabin. He heard sounds of an excited crowd coming from the sailors' quarters but was not distracted from his mission. Rufus rapped on the door.
"Enter".
He walked over the threshold. Tevo and Costall turned around, anxiety on their faces, both men preoccupied with how to break the news to Nemo of his son's capture.
"Welcome back," said Tevo. "Have you anything to report?"
"I have something for you", said Rufus. "I think you should come and see".
"What is it?" said Costall. "We're very busy. Can it wait?"
Rufus pulled out the headband and threw it onto the table. It landed with a clunk. The puma's sapphire eyes glistened in the lamplight.
The Captain reached for the jewelry.
"Where did you get this?" asked Tevo, sweat beading his upper lip.
"From our prisoner," said Rufus, smiling.
"Let me see that," said the Admiral. He studied the cat. "It has to be her". Both the senior officers knew that bringing home the ultimate prize might appease the King so that he'd spare their lives.
"Is she here?" said Tevo not daring to believe that the Princess might have been taken.
"Like I said," said Rufus, stretching out his moment of glory. "I have something for you".
Costall and Tevo fell over each other in their rush for the door.
* * *
Trem watched while six men used all their strength to haul a gun carriage into the centre of the room, the oak wheels thundering. The whole deck shuddered, its planks protesting at the cannon's weight. Glaina could only guess at what was happening. Her heart pounded at the thought of what these animals might have planned for her.
The six sailors stood up wiping their brows and stepped back to admire the beast. Its presence was awesome. The head of a Minotaur stared out from the black wrought-iron barrel, the raised design adorning the top of the gun midway down its length. The barrel overhung the carriage by four feet and ran parallel to the deck. It took two men to lift the nine-inch diameter balls that the monster fired.
"Hold her," said Trem. Hands grabbed her arms, the men enjoying her young flesh. Trem stepped forward brandishing a knife.
"Scum," she snarled.
"Mind your tongue, bitch," he barked.
Trem placed the knife in her cleavage. The warrior felt the cold steel against her ample breasts and held her breath.
There was no sound from the crowd.
He pulled the blade towards him.
Snick.
The laces gave way, her jerkin falling forward.
The bos'un slipped the dagger into its sheath. He gripped the flaps of her jerkin and ripped open her garment. Her breasts spilled out. The men gaped.
"Remove it," he ordered. Glaina fought as the sailors tugged at her jerkin. Within moments it lay in pieces around her feet.
She struggled against the ropes and the men holding her arms, her muscles straining, her stomach taut, her breasts swaying vigorously.
Trem wolf-whistled. The crew looked on in amazement. They had seen her sister paraded and whipped but most of them had witnessed the show from a distance, the crowd had been so large. Now they saw an Amazon close up. They marveled at her muscular torso, her flawless bronze skin, her wide shoulders and tapered waist. Their eyes fixed on her remarkable breasts, her light brown nipples hard and prominent.
"Let's play catch," said Trem, his mouth an evil grin. "Release her".
The men retreated and she stood alone, her muscled thighs working with the deck's gentle movement. The rope around her wrists and elbows bit into her flesh. She clenched and unclenched her fists to keep the blood flowing.
A man shoved her from behind and she lurched towards Trem. He caught the Amazon, his hands gripping her powerful shoulders. They were the same height, their faces inches apart. He gnashed his teeth, pretending to bite her cheek. The men laughed. He spun the captive around and threw her back at the crew. She fell into the arms of Wex and Lipus, Trem's cousin.
Wex held her while Lipus ran his tongue down her chest, licking the sweat from between her breasts. They swapped positions. Wex nibbled her ear.
"I'm going to have you," he said under his breath, singsong in his voice.
Before she could react he'd smacked her thigh and handed her on.
For twenty minutes they pushed their helpless victim from man to man. They pawed at her body, held her, smelt her, and passed her on. They taunted her with jibes at Amphora, mauled her half-naked body, pulled her hair, slapped her quivering breasts, laughed when she stumbled blindfolded against obstacles underfoot, and teased her about what was to follow. Tied and surrounded, she was powerless to stop the abuse. She finished up held by Lipus again.
"Enjoy that, bitch?" he asked, laughing and squeezing her nipples.
Trem stood in front of her. The Amazon was breathing heavily, her muscled torso wet with sweat.
"Let's see those pretty eyes of yours," said the bos'un and pulled off her blindfold. The warrior blinked and flung back her curly dark-orange hair.
"Green," he smiled. "My favourite colour".
He stood admiring her face, their eyes locked.
"Strip her," he said calmly, retaining eye contact.
Instantly the sailors were all over her, ripping at her skirt and pulling off her boots. Moments later she stood naked but for the tease of her tiny white panties. The crew looked on, entranced by her muscular thighs. They looked forward to their promised reward.
"Prepare her," hissed Trem.
* * *
Tevo ran down the gangplank towards the four men, the corpulent figure of the Admiral a pace behind. Even from this distance they could see that the woman tied to the pole was beyond merely another stunning Amazon specimen. She was beautiful in a way they had never seen before. Her thick blonde hair swung in the wind framing and reframing her face. That she wore a gag somehow added to her appeal.
Rufus joined them.
Tevo and Costall inspected her briefly. The Captain wasted no time.
"Take her to the Admiral's cabin", he ordered, "and secure her".
The soldiers turned and walked in the direction of the Lynx.
"One more thing," said Tevo, his voice raised. The men stopped.
"You will all be rewarded handsomely. The work you have done here is of the highest order. I offer you my heartfelt congratulations".
Smiles from the men.
" I must ask of you a special favour". Tevo looked at each member of the group in turn. "I want her capture kept a secret. In fact I will double your reward if you keep this news between us. Everyone will know soon enough, but I need to extract maximum benefit from this remarkable development. Trust me please".
"Yes sir," they replied grinning, and walked on.
Tevo turned to the Admiral.
"Time to leave," said the Captain. "Let's get out of here before reinforcements arrive".
Sempha struggled as they approached the boat. Her heart pounded. Her face reddened.
"Nnnnggghhhh".
The truth had sunk in. Her worst nightmare had begun to unfold.
* * *
Glaina was pulled over to the gun carriage, two men on each arm. Another stood ready with a knife and freed her wrists and elbows. They sensed she'd fight the moment she was free and prepared themselves. Their hunch was right. As soon as the ropes fell away she lurched forward, fists clenched. A man tackled her. He fell, his jaw broken. She grabbed Lipus and flung him to the deck, her hands clasped around his throat. He thrashed about in protest while she increased the pressure. His eyes widened, the veins in his neck protruding vividly.
"Get her off me," he rasped.
Men piled on top of her. Their numbers were overwhelming and she was subdued.
The onlookers watched her muscles flex, the sinews stretching beneath her smooth skin They envied the men who fought her, her writhing giving the thugs fresh reason to paw her vulnerable body.
The gang threw her down against the cannon, her back against the gun, her head hanging upside-down off the end of the barrel. She was winded by the impact. Sailors tied her wrists under the barrel, her elbows too. Others drove hooks into the deck either side of the cannon's base, the sound of their hammering a crescendo in the confined space.
More men grabbed the Amazon's legs and forced them apart, one on each ankle, one on each calf. They wound rope around her ankles, tying the ends to the newly prepared hooks. Trem and his crew looked on, licking their lips in anticipation of her final reveal. The warrior fought her aggressors, her thighs rock hard as she struggled against her legs being spread.
"Wider," said Trem, calmly. "Much wider".
They circled her thighs with rope and pulled the ends to manacles located on each side of the deck. The sailors fed the cords through the metal hoops and tugged until her legs were spread cruelly wide. The helpless woman screamed, her flesh puckered where the hemp bit into her hamstrings. By the time they had finished their victim was tied fast to the cannon, an open invitation.
Trem walked up to the Amazon and took a moment to admire her irresistible body. With her head hanging off the end of the barrel her stomach became concave. She raised her head to confront him. Ridges of muscle punctuated the centre of her abdomen like a range of shallow hillocks.
"Are you so pathetic with women that you have to tie them up first?"
He smashed his fist into her unprotected belly. Glaina gasped, her head falling backwards.
"There's more where that came from miss pretty," he barked.
The bos'un walked around and stood between her legs. He reached down and ripped off her panties, the skimpy material offering no resistance.
He grinned.
"I've never had a redhead. I guess there's a first time for everything".
Laughter from the audience.
He pocketed her underwear; a souvenir.
The bos'un dropped his trousers, his belt buckle clattering against the floor. He stroked his rigid cock and pointed it at her crack.
"Time for an outing my trusted friend," he said, a smirk on his lips.
"Come near me with that filthy thing and I'll make sure you'll never be able to use it again," she yelled.
"We'll see about that," he smirked.
He stood poised, his legs spread wide, his member ready at her entrance.
With his hands grasping her breasts for support, in one gigantic thrust he penetrated the bound warrior. Brute strength forced him past her dryness.
"Ahhhh," he grinned. "So tight".
Trem pumped hard. Her breasts jiggled against his palms with each stroke. Within moments he was spent, a roar escaping from his throat - his face ecstatic. He withdrew.
Glaina lay sweating, her head back, her long copper-coloured hair brushing against the deck.
"And now the other end," he said. The bos'un walked around to her head, his semi-erect member dripping sticky white fluid.
He knelt down and grabbed her hair, forcing her head backwards. Her face was upside down, her complexion flushed. She closed her mouth.
"If your teeth so much as glance against me," he hissed, "I'll give you a beating the like of which you can't imagine. Now open up".
Glaina kept her lips sealed. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing deep, her breasts quivering provocatively. She struggled to get free but her efforts were futile. The ropes had cut into her wrists and elbows. Vicious sores had appeared around her ankles.
SLAP.
His open palm connected with her cheek, her head held in place with his other hand.
Her mouth stayed closed.
SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.
Forehand, backhand, forehand.
Her face stung, his blows accurate and rough.
For Trem this had become a matter of principle. She could not be seen to win in front of his crew.
"Wex".
His number two picked up a club and stood between her legs. She blinked, her heart pounding.
"I said, OPEN".
Nothing, her lips white.
Trem looked up.
SMACK.
Wex smashed the club onto her inner thigh.
She winced. But her lips stayed firmly together.
The bos'un nodded.
SMACK.
Wex beat her again, the wood connecting with her other thigh.
"Don't stop," said Trem through gritted teeth.
With the eighth blow Glaina shrieked. Trem was fully erect, the sight of her in pain exciting him. He seized the opportunity.
"AAArgghnnnngghh". His monstrous penis throttled her scream.
He drove deep into her mouth and felt his end contacting the back of her throat. She wretched, his smell abhorrent, his phallus coarse against her tongue, his testicles bashing against her nose. The warrior closed her eyes and tried to divert her thoughts.
He thrust. He groaned. She waited.
He thrust harder. He groaned louder. She waited.
He thrust faster. He groaned longer. She waited.
Suddenly he stopped as if suspended, his expression frozen. This was her moment. She clamped her teeth onto his cock and bit hard.
Trem bellowed and fell backwards onto the deck. A mixture of semen and blood seeped through his fingers covering his wounded penis.
The audience was too shocked to react.
The bos'un lay writhing on the floor.
"Try that again and I'll separate you from that puny cock of yours, scum," she snarled. She raised her head to address the throng. "And that goes for the rest of you vermin".
* * *
"A Prince!" said Tolana, chief of the Amazon army, smiling for the first time in days.
"I know," said Lema. "It's incredible".
"What else?" asked Tolana.
"I can tell you the Thoranians have no plans to invade Lumana," said Lema. "You can stand down the army. The men with the Prince had come to find Sempha".
"Thank goodness you thwarted them," said Tolana. "Come inside and tell me everything you know".
The two Amazons went into Tolana's private tent where they could talk privately.
"Has Cercia left yet?" asked Lema.
"Yes", replied Tolana. "She left with her group two days ago at sunset".
"Do you think they'll succeed with the rescue?" asked Lema.
Tolana looked away. "Twenty Amazons against the Thoranian masses? It will be hard. But Cercia's the cleverest strategist I know. Anything could happen".
"Can we do anything to help?" asked Lema.
"I would summon our army and follow," said Tolana, "especially as it now appears the troops are not needed here. But the constitution states that only the Princess can command the army into battle on foreign soil. While there is hope that Amphora is still alive, I will not risk drawing attention to Sempha's hiding place by sending messengers to the Princess".
"I understand," said Lema.
Tolana thought for a moment.
"Maybe I could risk a visit to the Princess up at the Sycamore Caves," she said. "Me alone - perhaps with one other for safety?"
"That is for you to decide," said Lema. "Although the situation is unbearable for Amphora, at least Sempha and Glaina are safe".
"Yes," said Tolana. "I dare not imagine what they would do to Sempha were she to be captured".
Both women shuddered.
* * *
Sempha was tied to a chair in the Admiral's cabin. Guards had been posted outside the door. The Lynx was under full sail heading back to Thorania.
"If you allow anyone past this door bar me and the Captain you will be flogged to death. Do I make myself clear?"
The three men had nodded, noticing a fresh intensity in the Admiral's eyes.
Tevo and Costall studied their prisoner. The Princess's arms were tied together behind the chair. Her ankles had been roped to the back legs of the chair forcing her legs slightly apart. Ropes criss-crossed her chest parting her breasts. They had left her gagged. The chair had been bolted to the deck.
The officers studied their captive. She stared straight ahead. The men took in her jasmine scent, the shine of her hair cascading down her back, her smooth muscled limbs. They stared at her cleavage, her voluptuous breasts thrusting against her laced jerkin. But it was her face that most intrigued them. Both men were accustomed to socializing with Thoranian nobility; they had witnessed great beauty on many occasions. But none of those women came close to the vision they saw before them. Her translucent skin, pronounced cheekbones, small ears, and fine nose suggested a purity of lineage far beyond anything the Thoranians could produce. And her eyes. Not of this earth. Feline like the puma, pale blue like rare diamonds, mesmerizing and unsettling.
"So, this is the famous Princess Sempha!" said Tevo, smiling. "The reputation of your beauty precedes you and, if I may say, you do not disappoint".
The bound woman remained motionless, her mind racing.
"I hope you're looking forward to telling the King everything about the treasure," said Costall. "I advise you to cooperate. I can only imagine what the dungeon master is doing to your precious Amphora as we speak. I know that torturing your bodyguard's delicious body brought him great pleasure. He would greet the prospect of interrogating you with unbridled ecstasy".
She turned and glared at the Admiral.
He walked around to stand behind the Princess and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I wonder if you'll be so haughty once you've been interrogated".
* * *
It took quite some time for Trem to regain his feet. The onlookers stepped back as he staggered forward, spit falling from his mouth, his eyes watering, his face crimson.
The wounded bos'un stood next to the tied Amazon, her body slick with sweat.
He pointed to a cauldron.
"Fill it," he whispered.
* * *
"Where is the Prince now," asked Tolana.
"Tied up under the apple tree," replied Lema. "The women are using him for sport".
"Let them finish," said Tolana. "Then prepare him for a journey".
* * *
By the time the tar had come to the boil, the room was full of smoke. The stench from the thick black pitch ate at their throats. Sailors came and went as duty called on the upper deck but otherwise they stayed, fascinated by how their feared master would take revenge on the struggling beauty.
Glaina had guessed his plan the moment she had first smelt the oil, the sound of its bubbling ominous. Her body was open to abuse, her legs spread, her arms tied, her generous breasts unprotected. She knew he'd punish her if she bit him, but she had calculated that humiliation of their leader was the cruelest blow she could inflict. For her, even torture was better than gang rape. She knew they would not kill her; that if Amphora had not yet broken she would be interrogated for news of the Princess's whereabouts. Despite her appalling predicament, Glaina's heart rose at the thought of Sempha walking free - a consequence of the escape plan enacted in the forest.
The warrior clenched her teeth and prayed for strength.
* * *
Sempha's eyes widened. She and the two officers turned their heads in the direction of the sailors' quarters from where the sound had come. The scream was definitely female. The bastards were torturing one of her people and she was helpless to prevent it.
Another scream, higher-pitched than the first.
Her eyes narrowed. Costall noticed her reaction. He sensed an opportunity.
"I can make them stop if you tell me where we'll find the treasure," he said.
She glared at him. Her nostrils flared.
"Nod your head and I'll remove the gag for you," the Admiral said again.
Another scream pierced the walls.
"That sound has passed through two solid-oak decks, " said Tevo. "Imagine what it must be like close up".
The officers smiled.
This time they could make out words.
"PLEASE. NO MORE".
A wave smacked against the boat.
"AAARRRGGGHHH".
For the first time in their presence, the Princess struggled against her bonds, her blonde hair flying, her breasts shaking in her jerkin.
Sempha yelled something but the sound was muffled and ineffective.
"Shall we tell them to stop?" asked Costall.
* * *
Trem dipped the iron cup into the smoldering cauldron for the fifth time. The heat seared his eyebrows. He stood back and let the ladle fill.
He looked down at Glaina, the vat by her side. He had access to all of her magnificent body. Blood dripped from her wrists and elbows, the wounds amplified by her struggling. Her ankles also bled. The ropes holding her thighs threatened to cut into her firm flesh. Streams of sweat ran off her torso mixing with the blood on the deck.
She breathed in fits and starts, her ribcage expanding and contracting periodically. Trem's semen leaked from between her spread legs. Her head was back, her hair against the floor. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of shock infused with agony. She had expected pain but nothing on this scale.
A pool of thick black tar sat in her belly button and overflowed down her sides congealing over her kidneys. More of the foul muck streaked her inner thighs.
The bos'un brought up the full cup and held it above her body. She sensed more was to come and raised her head, the muscles in her stomach tensing into ridges. This was what he had waited for. He delivered the scalding liquid directly in the centre of her abdomen, her muscles providing a valley in which the pitch could flow. She leaned back her head and shrieked, her wail tripling in volume as her belly became concave and the pitch ran off her sides. The molten liquid peeled off her skin leaving raw flesh in its wake.
Trem placed the scoop back in the cauldron and came round to her head. He knelt down and grabbed her hair. He shook her head from side to side.
"Apologise bitch," he hissed.
She winced.
He put his mouth to her ear. "I want to hear you beg".
She turned away but he yanked her head back to face him.
The Amazon gritted her teeth.
"I owe you nothing, you bastard," she hissed.
He flung back her head.
"Say goodbye to your nipples," he whispered.
The Amazon bucked and wrestled but in vain. The only effect was added amusement for the audience, the sailors commenting on her wobbling breasts. They enjoyed the sight of a powerful woman being tamed.
The bos'un returned to the vat. He stirred the pitch.
"Just waiting for it to boil again," he said, nonchalantly.
He brought up the cup and held it over her, this time above her right tit. The Amazon tugged at her bonds, trying to force her body sideways away from under the ladle. She grunted with the exertion. She was held fast.
Trem rotated his arm. The seething liquid oozed off the scoop, hung in a long drip – and fell directly onto her defenseless nipple.
* * *
A hysterical shriek invaded the relative peace of the Admirals' cabin.
The men winced. The Princess flushed. It was too much for her to bear.
Sempha nodded.
"Want to talk?" asked Tevo, his voice rising an octave.
She nodded again, her eyes pleading.
"Want us to stop the games next door?"
"yyyuuussss", she yelled, her cry muffled.
Costall stood behind the Princess and unknotted the rope. She spat out the gag.
"ME", she yelled. "Do it to me. Free her".
They laughed.
"Yes your majesty".
"Do it NOW," she yelled.
"Sempha," said Tevo, his hand on his belly. "You don't rule here. Worry not. You'll have your turn soon enough".
Another shriek, the worst yet. Glaina's other nipple was scorched.
"Please", said Sempha, struggling against the ropes. "Stop them".
Tevo knelt down and leaned close to her face while the Admiral replaced her gag.
"Once you're chained in the dungeon I gather we all get a chance with you. Here's what I'm going to do to you with my half hour of fun".
He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered six choice words.
She gulped.
* * *
Cercia looked around and noticed a rocky overhang. She raised her hand and turned to face her troops.
"We'll camp over there," she said, pointing.
The leader watched while the group made preparations. At five foot seven she was small by Amazon standards. She wore her fawn-coloured hair short and freckles covered her pretty face. Her breasts were regular in size, pert and shapely. What she lacked in height she made up for in personality; she was bubbly yet assertive. The oldest of the team at twenty-nine, her experience in special operations was invaluable.
Cercia was visibly moved at the way her team pulled together. Not for the first time she congratulated herself on her selection of warriors. Hundreds had volunteered for the rescue mission; she had chosen just twenty – the very best of the best. All in their mid-twenties, they were the strongest, the fastest, the most vicious, and the most cunning women she knew. Each of these Amazons was worth ten Thoranian foot soldiers.
She had just sat down when she heard a voice nearby. "How long till we reach the fortress?"
Cercia looked up and saw Neepa, her second in command. The two Amazons had been close friends since childhood. Neepa was Tolana's younger sister.
"Hello," said Cercia. "Come and sit for a moment".
Neepa adjusted her scabbard and sat down.
"Another two days and we should be able to see the castle," said Cercia.
Both women knew that the group could have covered the ground in an eighth of the time on horseback. But the element of surprise was crucial to the mission and it had been agreed that an approach by foot was the only tactic that would succeed. Everyone was anxious to rescue Amphora as quickly as possible. "But better late than never," as Tolana had reminded them.
"Which route have you planned for us?" asked Neepa.
"There are two ways we could go," replied Cercia. "I've chosen the westerly approach. The land is forested; the cover's thicker. We're less likely to be detected. And the river will act as our guide. What do you think?"
"I agree," said Neepa. "Excellent choice".
"Good," said Cercia, standing up. "Let's eat!"
* * *
They used Glaina.
For two days solid, the whole journey home, the men took turns with her. At busy times they queued. Those who wished to take their time chose the early hours because demand for her was less, most of the men asleep, their appetites satiated. Every four hours or so the Amazon was released only to be retied the other way, her chest against the barrel, her breasts hanging down either side of the gun. Those who preferred to come from behind then had their chance. And, when sufficient men requested, she was turned again.
By the end of the first day she was so raw that all feeling had left her. For Glaina, the gang rape was dehumanizing; cruel beyond words. But worse than being violated was the humiliation; the games, the words, the perversions, the hideous foreplay. Some slapped her breasts, some ran their fingers over her flesh where the skin had been burned away, some bit on her charred nipples. They taunted her with glimpses of Amphora. "Perhaps she's squealing right this minute?" "I bet he raped her too". "Give me a day with her and here's what I'd do….….." the remainder of those sentences blocked from her conscious.
The first time that a man had knelt and gently licked the folds of skin between her legs, she had sensed a kindness and momentarily relaxed. She soon learnt. He had been the roughest of them all, pounding mercilessly against her pelvic bone.
Two had chosen to eat her; to suck and bite her swollen labia.
The ultimate humiliation was from those who splattered her face – and her hair. Streaks of semen clogged her eyelids, ran into her nose, and lay matted in her hair. Five of the thugs had held a competition. While four had held her head, one had aimed his load directly at her face; the man who had achieved the greatest coverage declared the winner.
But not one of them dared put his cock in her mouth. In that way she had made her mark.
* * *
Sentries kept watch for the small band of warriors. Cercia slept while she could. She was on guard duty in an hour.
Neepa, too, wanted to rest. But first she needed to write a note.
* * *
Amphora had been chained to the floor, her limbs spread out. It was Puno's turn. He approached the sleeping prisoner, taking in her beauty. Scars and scratches marked her damaged breasts, her ruined nipple caked in blood. Her chest rose and fell gently, the decoration on her face hardly discernible. His heart quickened. His moment with her had arrived.
Puno looked around searching for Ennuta.
"Has my order arrived yet?" he asked, seeing her near the dungeon door.
The small woman glanced down and saw a slip of paper. She picked it up.
"Yes," she said. "It's in the chamber".
The man walked over to the far side of the room and pulled back the curtain. There were three big boxes on the floor. He smiled.
He brought the boxes into the dungeon and redrew the curtain.
"Everyone," he called. "I want to show you something".
With his colleagues gathered round he opened the lid of the first box. Ennuta put her hand to her face, her eyes wide. Breet gasped. Clen's mouth fell. The dungeon master grinned.
Puno opened the second box. The onlookers stepped backwards.
He revealed the third box. The four people stood aghast.
The dungeon master broke the silence.
"Nice idea", he said, slapping his accomplice on the back.
"How long do you think she'll last?" Puno asked.
They each proffered a guess.
"An hour," said Ennuta.
"Twenty minutes," said Clen.
"I give her less," said Puno, and set to work.
To be continued……..
* * *
|
|
|