Of Pain and Delight (21 page)

Then, upon hearing familiar rhythmic sounds, she strained to glance over her shoulder, and saw both men, rather than using her vulnerability in the way she craved, content to masturbate whilst gazing at her tethered form. Sahria felt humiliated in the extreme, but remained silent. She would not beg, and certainly not of servants.

A few seconds later she felt a warm spray across the tender skin of her bottom as one and then the other ejaculated. The men sniggered disdainfully, and having taken their pleasure, walked off, leaving her to her fate.

It was not long before Sahria heard footsteps; her ordeal was about to begin!

She raised her head as best she could. There seemed to be dozens of people entering the hall, and she guessed the two servants would have ensured that word of her plight got around the court very quickly. The people began to chatter excitedly. There were both male and female voices, some of which she recognised. This was far more degrading than what had happened in the marketplace. At least there the people couldn’t see her face and she couldn’t see them, and they had been strangers of the city. This time most of the onlookers would be people she knew, and many of them would have suffered at her hands in the past. Now they had the opportunity to wreak their revenge, and she was certain they would not shrink from the task.

The people crowded around her, like curious children seeing a curious animal for the first time. Somebody touched her bottom and she shuddered involuntarily. Somebody else slipped two or three fingers inside her pussy. ‘She is as wet as a whore’s mouth!’ exclaimed a male voice.

‘She’s no better than a whore herself,’ said a woman venomously. The crowd laughed. More fingers probed her roughly, two or possibly three different hands exploring her juicy depths simultaneously, and she secretly ached for a cock to plunge into her to sate her rising lust.

‘Lash the bitch!’ someone yelled, and his cry was taken up immediately by others in the rabid mass.

Sahria closed her eyes and waited for the pain. She detected a familiar scent and opened them again. An erection was inches from her mouth, the owner kneeling in front of her face. She could have raised her head and looked to see who it was, but it somehow didn’t seem to matter, so she parted her lips and engulfed the stalk. Whoever it was came immediately and bathed the back of her throat, and she swallowed the cream gratefully.

The man slipped his drooping phallus from between her pouting lips. A thin trail of his juice hung between it and her lips like a strand of spider’s silk.

Then she heard a swish and felt a stinging pain as a cane cut her across both buttocks. She was thankful the man had come when he did, for she would certainly have bitten into his cock with the shock of the blow if he hadn’t. The crowd cheered and a second stroke was delivered, this time across the lower part of her bottom. But the third cut was the worst, she howled, and the crowd cheered again.

The pain was agonising. Whoever was caning her either hated her or simply relished the task. Three more strokes were delivered with somewhat less severity, until her tormentor tired and she heard the cane fall to the marble floor, and numerous hands mauled her bottom, as if to feel her pain.

Sahria felt utterly degraded, knowing that her debasement had barely begun. Fingers once more probed her pussy, and then one prodded clumsily into her anus, causing her to tense with the pain.

Gradually, however, her muscles relaxed and she welcomed two and then three fingers into her tight sphincter. She felt her clitoris throb and knew she was going to come. She feared what they might do if she showed any pleasure, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. The incessant clawing at her sex was driving her to distraction, and suddenly she lost control completely, raised her head and screamed as the orgasm ripped through her.

‘The little slut’s come,’ a woman declared, and the crowd jeered.

‘Fuck her!’ called another.

‘Yeah, fuck her till she can take no more!’

‘Fuck her! Fuck her!’ The demand turned into a chant, and Sahria trembled.

‘She’s terrified!’ somebody exclaimed gleefully, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth; Sahria could not possibly have been more aroused.

And her wish was granted almost immediately. The hands slipped from her, all apart from the finger probing her anus. She waited in eager anticipation, and after a short pause she felt the rubbery head of a stiff penis touching her aching cunt and, in the next moment it was inside her to the hilt. Whoever it was began to thrust rapidly. He gripped her thighs tightly and dug his fingernails into her flesh as he hammered his groin against her bottom. There was no consideration for her in the man’s violent abuse of her body, but she loved it. She would take them all. She would not be overcome.

Another fine erection was presented to her face. Sahria opened her mouth and the stranger pushed forward until she was forced to take his substantial weapon down her throat. Always happy to perform such a task, she swallowed repeatedly in the knowledge that her actions would give him the most delightful sensations as her throat muscles undulated along the length of his stalk. She wanted to enhance her oral caress by cupping his balls, but her shackles prevented it. All she could do was concentrate on pleasuring him with her mouth.

Sahria used her substantial expertise in the art of fellatio and the man came within moments. She felt his cock throbbing within her throat and avidly swallowed his cream. ‘The bitch is draining me…’ she heard him groan. ‘She’s sucking me dry…’

The scene must have had an effect on the man pummelling her pussy for he, too, cried out in blissful release and ejaculated. Having two men come inside her simultaneously had always delighted Sahria, and this coupled with another person expertly frigging her arse was so exhilarating that she joined them in a joyous climax.

Eventually they withdrew, and Sahria eagerly awaited her next intrusion.

Whoever had been fingering her bottom also left her, and she felt once more delightfully vulnerable.

‘Thrash the slut again!’ cried another female voice.

‘Let me do it!’ pleaded a man. ‘I want to slap that arse!’

Sahria felt the first stinging blow of a rough hand as it slapped her right buttock. The second smack hit her other rounded globe.

‘Look at it quiver!’ The tone of the voice was filled with lust and cruelty, and it pleased her. More blows were administered in rapid succession, making it obvious to her that more than one person was engaged in her humiliation.

The beating continued for quite some time. It seemed that everyone wanted to take his or her turn to slap her. The sounds of flesh smacking flesh echoed around the great hall like an erotic symphony, and Sahria came again.

Eventually the crowd tired and the slaps ceased. Somebody ejaculated over her bottom. Three more men took their turns to fuck her, and then the people drifted away to enjoy their own libidinous pursuits in private.

Sahria awoke slowly from a long and fitful sleep. She had been dreaming of the prince, and it had all seemed so very real, but as the mists of slumber cleared, she realised she was numb, and aching intensely. She heard voices and sighed. The thought of having to endure more physical abasement filled her with despair.

A group of old women studied her, and Sahria felt dirty and degraded. They talked quietly amongst themselves and shook their heads, and she wondered what they intended to do with her.

One of the group bent and began to unclasp the shackle that secured her wrist to the leg of bench. The other women followed their colleague’s example, and once Sahria’s other limbs were free they carefully unclasped the chains from her nipple rings and helped her to a sitting position. Sahria flopped against one of them, with her head against the woman’s ample chest, and the woman stroked her tousled hair.

‘Come, princess,’ she whispered. ‘We must bathe you.’

The milky water of the bath felt blissfully soothing as it washed over Sahria’s tortured flesh. The old women busied themselves about her, and she watched in a daze as they prepared silky garments for her to wear, the steam rising from the hot bath giving them a ghostly appearance. There was a sense of unreality about it all, and Sahria wondered briefly if she was still dreaming.

She was washed gently and thoroughly, and then left to soak in the hot bath alone.

The scent of the water filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes and lay back to relax in the gentle ambience of the moment. She began to think about the events of the previous night, the thrashings, the constant sex, and above all, the humiliation.

Two of the old women returned carrying bundles of towels. They helped Sahria out of the bath and dried her, then as one of them brushed her long hair, the other carefully clipped her pubic hair neatly. Sahria still felt dazed from her recent experiences, and watched dispassionately as the woman worked deftly.

She was then made to lie on a table, which had been covered by a silken sheet. Two more of the women returned to the room, each of them carrying a silver jug. They stood on either side of her and one of them poured warm oil over her body, while the other female massaged it into her skin. Sahria closed her eyes and relaxed. For once her thoughts were not dominated by libidinous dreams, despite their intimate caresses. The women oiled her breasts and ran their slippery fingers between her thighs, although they avoided touching her newly clipped pubis. She breathed the perfumed air gently and the aches in her limbs faded under their expert ministrations.

She was made to lie on her stomach, the second jug of oil was poured over her, and the women stroked her smooth back, her thighs and her calves. Sahria parted her legs a little and they smoothed the insides of her upper thighs, and then concentrated their attentions on her tortured bottom.

‘What a whipping you must have taken, princess,’ said one of the women, as she caressed the soft globes. Sahria could feel their fingertips tracing the lines of the raised welts, but there was no discomfort; the awful stinging had dissipated.

‘Such a beautiful, beautiful bottom,’ breathed another. Sahria felt her run her fingertips down the cleft between her buttocks and, for a moment, hoped she would touch her pussy, which was rapidly becoming oiled with juices of her own. Instead, though, the woman smoothed both hands across Sahria’s buttocks while her companion massaged her thighs again.

‘The marks are nearly gone,’ said the first woman. ‘The oil has worked well.’

‘The prince will be pleased,’ said the other. ‘He likes to tan a nice fresh backside.’

Sahria suddenly realised what was happening. She was being prepared for him. The prince was going to keep his word, and she vowed that this time she would use every skill she had ever learned to make him realise that she was indeed the true princess of pleasure!

Their task completed, the women guided Sahria to her feet. One of them brushed her hair again briefly and tidied it over her shoulders, while the other slipped a diaphanous silk robe about her nakedness. Sahria glanced at her reflection in a nearby mirror. The robe covered her body from neck to her feet, but the silk was so fine that the garment was virtually transparent, and highlighted the shapely contours of her body to perfection. She stood proudly erect, her breasts thrusting magnificently, her nipples and their golden adornments clearly visible.

The women held her hands and led her gently from the room, and Sahria felt extremely nervous as they walked down the long passageway towards the prince’s chambers.

They reached the door, and one of the women knocked. The door was opened and Sahria was surprised to see the naked form of Mena standing there. The girl stepped aside, bowed low, and they entered the opulent room. Aisha, the blonde nymphet, was lying naked on the huge bed. Clearly the prince had already been savouring her delights. Sahria felt disappointed and somewhat slighted; she had wanted the prince to herself.

There was no sign of Sarne. Sahria was led to the bed and made to slip out of the robe. Aisha moved to the side of the bed and invitingly smoothed a hand across the sheet next to her. Sahria slipped onto the bed and lay next to her, feeling a little bemused. Mena joined them and the old women left the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

Sahria lay on her back staring at the ornate ceiling, feeling very disheartened. It appeared that her role was merely to be just one of three lovers for the insatiable prince. She looked at Mena, and then turned to face Aisha. Both girls were lying on their sides facing her, their eyes shining with lust.

‘Where is Prince Sarne?’ Sahria asked.

‘He will return soon,’ whispered Aisha. ‘We have been instructed to prepare you for him.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sahria was angry at the girl’s impertinence. It was hardly her pupils’ place to prepare her for anything.

‘You have taught us well, mistress,’ said Mena, in her hushed tones. ‘The prince is a very demanding lover. He has ordered that you be fully aroused before he takes you.’

Sahria calmed herself, finding her words unsurprising. Sarne no doubt felt it would be too demeaning for him to be bothered to stimulate and seduce her. The girls would do the work for him, he would then fuck her, and after sating himself he would leave her.

Mena moved closer and stroked her breasts. Sahria relaxed, ready to enjoy the stimulating experience of gentle feminine caresses. Aisha ran her hand over Sahria’s stomach and then down to cup her mound, and Sahria felt the girl’s middle finger slip between her sex lips.