Innocent (7 page)

Cianna could do nothing, only clutch onto the legs of the man in her mouth as her body quivered and shook in reaction to the buggery. She was unable to speak, hardly able to breath, her breasts swinging and slapping to the motion of the cock in her rectum, her head dizzy with shock. The awful, desperate feeling in her bowels was worse by far than the effect of anything Sulitea had put up her, worse than she had ever imagined, dirty and helpless and out of control, but far, far too good to make her want to stop.

She fought for control, struggling to take it, all the while to the sound of their laughter and calls for Claides to bugger her harder and to come in her rectum. The other man still had her by the hair, his cock wedged deep into her throat, wanking into her mouth as his friend buggered her. Another had come close, and eager hands took her breasts, fondling and bouncing them, commenting on how fat and heavy they were, then twisting her nipples cruelly in their fingers. She tried to scream, only to gag on the fat penis head in her throat. The youth grunted, called out, jerked hard at his shaft, and suddenly her throat was full of thick, slimy male come, and she was choking, gagging on his erection and fighting for breath, all the while with the cock in her bottom slamming harder and harder into her body.

Wrenching herself back, she jerked her head off the man's cock. Coughing and spluttering, with sperm bubbling from her nose in a thick froth, she clung on to him, her body jerking against his. Claides too cried out in ecstasy and she knew that he had given her the final humiliation and come in her rectum. Not that they stopped, the man who had been fondling her breasts grabbing her by the hair even as the first moved to one side. His cock was shoved rudely into her mouth, and she began to suck, with streamers of saliva and the first man's sperm hanging from her chin to catch in his pubic hair.

Even as she sucked, Claides' cock was pulled slowly from her burning anus, only for hard hands to lock immediately in the soft flesh of her hips. A cock head found her bottom hole, pushing in easily past the gaping, sperm sodden ring, and up, jammed into her rectum with three hard pushes that left her struggling for breath around the penis in her mouth. Fresh hands closed on her breasts, one on each, and a third, between her thighs, cupping her sex, the palm pressing to her clitoris. Immediately she was in ecstasy, unable to resist her feelings as whoever it was started to masturbate her. The man up her bottom gave a crow of delight as her anus contracted on his invading cock, and she was coming, gulping and slavering over the cock in her mouth, bucking her hips against the one up her bottom, wriggling and squirming in their hands, totally wanton, with all pretence of modesty or restraint completely gone.

The man in her bottom groaned loudly, coming deep up her rectum as her ring clamped over and over on his penis. Another cock was against her face, rubbing in her hair. A man grunted and she felt the wet of his come splash out aver her face a moment before her head was wrenched from one cock and stuck onto another. She sucked, draining his sperm down her throat as her own orgasm slowly faded. The last man came, full in her face and over her hair, even as her anus closed with a long fart as the cock in it was withdrawn.

They let go, and she collapsed, exhausted, eyes closed, down into the puddle of come and sweat beneath her. They were still laughing, and boasting, about the wanton state they had driven her into, their voices fading as they left. Cianna lay still, no longer caring, and when she at last looked up, it was in response to a gentle prod at her leg. A woman stood above her, one of the older slaves, holding out a bucket and a mop.

Chapter Three

Cianna spent the night beside Babalyn on one of the benches in the slave hall. They cuddled together, not for sex but for comfort. After her sex with the youths, Cianna had been quite pleased with herself, until she had discovered that the man Claides had bought her supposed anal virginity, and for more than the clerks had given Gaidrhed for her. The act she had enjoyed, and they had been no rougher than many of the boys who enjoyed her in Boreal. Yet the suddenness of it, and the casual way it had been done made it so hard to accept, and had brought home to her what it really meant to be a slave. She had still been shivering with the humiliation of it when the light had faded from the great skylight, despite Babalyn's best efforts to comfort her.

Now she lay in hot darkness, with the sticky touch of Babalyn's skin beside her on the bench, the warm smell of bodies, some sighs and sobs, the occasional muted cry of ecstasy. One hand was clutched tight to her necklace, and she was praying quietly, asking her ancestors for the strength to cope with the Makeans, for the sort of courage Aeisla displayed, or better still, Sulitea's extraordinary insouciance.

Finally she slept, to wake to bright light and cool air. From the angle at which the sun struck through the skylight she knew it was early, but there was already activity. Yuilla and her friends were gathered at the washing trough, with others waiting at a respectful distance. Two of the older women, who seemed to belong to the house itself, were standing by a great sack, handing what seemed to be some sort of cake to a queue of girls. Beside her Babalyn was stirring.

‘I was at home,' Babalyn said suddenly, ‘in my dreams, in Blue Zoria, on a soft bed, with two of my favourite admirers.'

She looked near to tears, so Cianna reached out to take her hand, drawing comfort as well as giving it. Babalyn responded with a weak smile, and sat up.

‘The nights are always worst,' she said. ‘In the day I can forget, but at night it comes back. Who I really am. Who I was. Come on, let's wash, and eat. Who knows, maybe today a shipmaster will be up from the coast, to buy me and eventually I will be wrecked on the Cypraean coast.'

‘Sulitea will come for me soon,' Cianna answered, ‘and when she does, you may come too. We will set you down in Blue Zoria.'

‘What could Sulitea do?' Babalyn asked.

‘Summon a demon,' Cianna answered, ‘to break the walls and bring us free, as easily as you or I would comb our hair.'

Babalyn laughed, ‘your dreams are wilder than mine! But keep them, all the same.'

‘She will come,' Cianna said confidently, rising to follow Babalyn towards the washing trough.

As they approached, Yuilla was coming away, and sneered as Cianna and Babalyn passed, making a remark to her friends which caused a ripple of laughter.

‘Does she seek to make me fight?' Cianna asked.

‘Not really,' Babalyn answered, ‘the clerks would not allow anything that might mark us. She seeks to cow you, really, because if you are seen not to be obedient to her it will weaken her authority over the others. Still, she might risk catching you at night, me also, as your friend. She can be cruel without leaving evidence for the clerks to see.'

‘You are afraid of her?'

‘Of course! She is a vicious, barbarian jungle cat! I am gently bred, Cianna. In Aprinia women do not fight together. It is uncivilised! The Makeans are nothing but brigands, slave takers, savages… Always here I am bullied! Look, Cianna, it is not wise to make friends here, when we are likely to be sold apart, but would you agree, to try and be sold with me?'

‘Gladly,' Cianna replied.

Babalyn kissed her, suddenly happy.

‘You will be my charm,' she said cheerfully, ‘my defender, and in return I will teach you how this rotten country works.'

They washed and ate, returning to their places on the bench. At mid morning the first of Ikail's clients began to drift in. Most were simply looking, browsers, as Babalyn called them, or seeking bargains. Babalyn had seen most before, and made comments on each to Cianna, until a short, balding man in robes of rich green silk appeared on the balcony.

‘That is Ikail himself,' Babalyn whispered. ‘There must be an important client. See.'

Another man had appeared beside Ikail, tall, lean, with a great hook nose, his hair a pale ash grey against the charcoal of his skin. He wore a robe of the deepest blue, elaborately embroidered in gold, with a number of heavy golden chains around his neck, each displaying a symbol.

‘Military, I would guess,' Babalyn whispered. ‘A retired general perhaps? A good prospect. Straighten up, boobs out, stroke my hair, and chatter playfully. They love the appearance of mindless vanity.'

‘He is somewhat old,' Cianna said doubtfully.

‘Old and wealthy, perfect,' Babalyn answered. ‘We will have nothing to do all day but lounge around and look pretty.'

‘Should we flirt?' Cianna asked. ‘To show interest.'

‘It is not necessary,' Babalyn said. ‘There is no creature more vain than the Makean male. Each thinks himself irresistible to women, no matter that he is ancient, stunted, deformed even. He will take your attraction to him for granted. Merely pose, and if we are called up, be meek, simper a little, and recite your skills in the erotic and culinary arts.'

Ikail and the client were walking slowly around the balcony, looking down at the slave girls. Occasionally one or the other would pass a comment, while one of the other clerks explained the characteristics of particular girls. As the little group reached the place opposite where Cianna sat, she looked up, smiling, then went back to admiring Babalyn's crinkly black hair. The men passed on, but a moment later the clerk signalled to them.

‘We must stress our virtues as a pair,' Babalyn said as they hurried up the stairs. ‘We are lovers, right, as when we are made to perform together, real passion is always popular. Say you trained as a concubine as well…'

‘A what?' Cianna demanded.

‘A concubine, a girl trained to give men pleasure.'

‘We do not do this, in Aegmund. It is…'

‘Never mind, just say your are a trained pleasure slave.'

‘I…' Cianna began, but they had reached the balcony, and the tall man was looking at them.

Babalyn smiled sweetly, taking Cianna's hand and walking forward with her hips swinging. Cianna tried to imitate her, acutely conscious of her naked body, as both Ikail and the tall man watched her as if her nakedness were of no consequence whatever.

‘Here, Elite, ' the clerk spoke, indicating them, ‘an odd pair, who seem to have taken to one another. The dark girl was of high status in her homeland, one of the Aprina states, and she has all the haughteur of her kind. It would perhaps amuse you to break her? The pale is an oddity, indeed, I at first thought her a hybrid. You two, why are you not kneeling before the Elite Admiral Assivetes?'

Babalyn knelt immediately, pulling Cianna down with her.

‘Peculiar,' the one addressed as Assivetes said. ‘The pale one is a northland savage, I think. She might do, but I want no arrogant Aprinian girl.'

‘I am not arrogant,' Babalyn said sweetly. ‘I have learnt my place in life, and the worth of Makean men. I am skilled also, in all the erotic arts of Opina. Please take me, great Elite.'

The man grunted.

‘She is well broken in,' Ikail remarked. ‘She has been some time in Makea and has been taught much. And look at her body. Such breasts are rare, and above a waist so slim, with hips in perfect proportion. Her bottom is no less magnificent. Turn, girl.'

Babalyn scrambled around immediately, pushing her bottom out for the man's inspection. Cianna caught her friend's scent, and found herself blushing at the rudeness of the pose.

‘Cunt jewellery, I see,' Assivetes remarked. ‘Fat lips, and a big clitoris, which always implies passion, big cheeks too, and firm.'

He had reached down to fondle Babalyn's bottom, squeezing one cheek, then the other, and giving each a gentle slap. Cianna stayed still, wondering if she was going to see Babalyn fucked, even buggered, in front of her, or if she might get the same herself.

‘A pretty anus too,' Assivetes went on, ‘and perhaps not too loose. So girl, what do you do, other than fuck.'

‘I am widely trained,' Babalyn said, making no move to get up from her exposed position. ‘I can dance, and recite, and serve in all ways.'

‘Fair,' Assivetes said. ‘I am tempted. What of the other one?'

‘I am a maid,' Cianna answered promptly. ‘I cook well, and I sew, while I have some knowledge of animal husbandry…'

‘I am no farmer,' Assivetes laughed. ‘What of erotic arts?'

‘Yes,' Cianna answered uncertainly.

‘She is not virgin,' Ikail supplied, ‘but she is somewhat innocent. How old are you, girl?'

‘I have seen seventeen winters,' Cianna answered.

‘And when were you first fucked?'

‘Last summer.'

‘Barely broken,' Assivetes said. ‘Let us see her.'

‘Legs wide,' Ikail ordered, ‘show the Elite your cunt, and hold up your breasts.'

Cianna obeyed, blushing furiously, spreading her knees and taking one breast in each hand.

‘Good breasts,' Assivetes remarked, ‘firm and heavy, if not so lush as her Aprinian friend's. A fine cunt too, and so pale.'

‘Never have I seen hair of such a colour,' Ikail put in, and on her cunt too. ‘is she not fine?'

‘Fine, if a little simple,' Assivetes replied. ‘I don't know…'

‘Her bottom is a joy also,' Ikail said quickly. ‘Get over, girl.'

Cianna went, reluctantly adopting the same pose as Babalyn, with her head down and her bottom stuck out and up, showing every rude detail between her cheeks. From behind her Assivetes gave a grunt of appreciation.

‘Even her anus is pale,' Assivetes remarked. ‘Has she been buggered?'

‘Last evening, by Claides, the son of the Exquisite Elandor,' Ikail said. ‘He was most satisfied.'

‘No doubt,' Assivetes replied. ‘Here also I am tempted. She amuses me. She is naïve, a savage, really. Yet the Aprinian has a fatter bottom and is perhaps the better trained.

‘Take us both, Elite!' Babalyn said suddenly. ‘Please! We are lovers. We will perform together for you, with true passion, in any manner that pleases you!'

‘We will,' Cianna agreed. ‘Anything.'

‘Silence!' Ikail ordered. ‘Yet it true what they say, Elite. Would they not make a fine show together? How your guests would envy you!'

‘Both?' Assivetes said. ‘Maybe. The price?'

‘A mere two hundred standard,' Ikail said quickly, ‘for the pair, a price which reflects both your standing as a valued customer and…'

‘No,' Assivetes cut in. ‘It is too much. I value the Aprinian at sixty standard, the savage at forty. Eighty should be a fair price for the pair.'

‘Eighty standard?' Ikail answered. ‘But Elite, as a pair they have more value than separately. They are lovers. Think of the pleasure to be gained in making them whip one another and suchlike sport!'

Assivetes gave an amused grunt.

‘Imagine,' Ikail went on. ‘You might have one make the other her toilet, or devise a cunning game, so that they are obliged to betray each other into some debased and painful fate. The possibilities are endless!'

‘True,' Assivetes admitted. ‘Very well, a hundred for the pair, which is my last offer.'

‘One hundred?' Ikail said. ‘Ah, so slim a margin, but for you, a customer of long standing, taken.'

Cianna walked beside Babalyn, through the hot, dusty streets of Ketawa. A collar had been fixed around her neck, Babalyn's also, and from each a lead led forward, to the hand of fat man in blue robes who had been sent to fetch them from the slave market. He was several paces in front, and ignored them so long as they kept up, which his slow, waddling pace made easy.

‘Why is there no guard?' Cianna whispered after a while. ‘We could jerk the leashes from his hand, then run.'

‘You stand out from a thousand paces,' Babalyn answered. ‘Anyway, slave girls do not do such things, or if they do, they are caught and punished. They have some nasty habits, the Makeans, so believe me, it is best to remain obedient. Besides, where would you run to?'

Cianna shrugged, realising the sense of what Babalyn was saying, but wanting to do something to reassert her pride. Yet Sulitea had told her to be meek, and it was to Sulitea she owed her loyalty, regardless of circumstance.

The fat man walked on, through a jumble of street and little squares, to stop at last beside a door set in a high wall. Opening it, he gestured Cianna and Babalyn through, following and locking it behind them. Within was a garden, green and very still after the bustle of the streets. Fruits trees and low palms were spaced out on a lawn, and in a raised pond great golden yellow fish lazed in the shade of water lily leaves. Beyond was the house, of white washed stone and marble, an elegant, airy structure finer than anything she had seen.

‘Remain here, kneeling,' the fat servant ordered, dropping their leads.

Babalyn obeyed, Cianna still standing as she looked about at the unfamiliar surroundings. The servant disappeared into the house.

‘Kneel, Cianna,' Babalyn insisted. ‘Do you want to be whipped?'

‘No,' Cianna admitted, sinking to her knees, ‘but it is undignified to kneel, save before the high-born to who I owe fealty.'

‘You are his slave!' Babalyn hissed, then went quiet as Assivetes himself stepped from the house.

He walked over to them, a tiny cup in one hand, from which rose a wisp of steam and a scent unfamiliar to Cianna. As he walked around them, inspecting their bodies, he was smiling.

‘A fair bargain,' he finally said, ‘if you are capable of all you claim. I am a mild enough man, and demand little. Primarily obedience, prompt and without question, to all my commands. For erotic indulgence, I detest both reluctance and modesty. You will enjoy serving my body, and show it.'