Possessing Allura (15 page)

‘Maybe I want to know what it feels like,' she smoldered.

‘Then ask your husband, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to show you.'

‘My husband is a monster.'

‘Your husband is also my lord,' he warned.

‘I meant no offense,' she whispered, wishing she could push him just a little further, to the brink of losing his temper and beyond. ‘So tell me, where do you make love to your woman?'

‘In her husband's barn, most often. I call for her and she makes ready, clearing out a space, closing the door and removing her clothes.'

‘She is aroused when you arrive, I'll bet.'

‘Yes, I make her wait on all fours, the whip between her teeth. She crawls to me when I appear and lays it at my feet. She then kisses my boots and asks how she can please me.'

‘Does she cry out when you whip her?' Allura pressed, breathless.

‘I use a gag, or put a bit in her mouth.'

‘Oh, yes… that sounds like a good idea…' Allura clenched her thighs against the threat of an impending, embarrassing climax in front of the servant, without even being touched, induced by the bondage and their words. ‘What's your name?'

‘Tesotoro, princess,' he said. ‘Son of Milatoro.'

‘Tesotoro,' she whispered.

‘And now you have calmed, and I have secured you for the night, I must leave you,' he said. ‘I won't gag you if you promise to keep quiet, with no more silly outbursts.'

‘Yes, Tesotoro, I promise.' For some inexplicable reason Allura reveled in the sound of his voice on her lips, and for a split second she felt an intense flash of jealousy toward that woman of his.

‘Tesotoro?'

He was turning the handle of the door. ‘Yes, princess?'

‘Will you be out there all night?' she asked.

‘Until the baron's return, yes,' he confirmed.

‘Oh.' She closed her eyes and almost at once and fell asleep; the idea of the tall warrior being out there watching over her serving as a warming comfort.

 

When Allura awoke it was light outside. She pulled with her arms and legs and realized she was still tied as Tesotoro had left her. She strained to look around the room, and there was no sign of the baron. Had he been away the whole night? Weakly, she strained at her bonds, and it was then the hunger hit her, much worse than the night before.

‘Montreico…' she attempted to call, though it came out a hoarse whisper, and then the door opened. It was him, his gait crooked, indicating he'd had too much to drink.

‘Rise and shine my lazy little bride.' He kicked the side of the bed and guffawed, obviously enjoying his own humor at the expense of the helplessly bound girl. ‘Then again, I suppose you can't very well rise, can you?'

‘Where have you been, Montreico?' she demanded.

The baron frowned and took a swig from the ale flagon he was holding. ‘By the gods, woman, not even twenty-four hours married and already you're nagging me.' He roared with laughter again, the raucousness of which required him to support himself upon the nearest bedpost.

‘I am glad you are amused,
husband
,' she snapped. ‘But I am starving and cramped and thirsty and I must go to the bathroom.'

Montreico slumped down beside her on the bed and slapped her nearest thigh. ‘Yes, sorry about that, I'm afraid we got a bit carried away in our celebrations last night.'

‘Celebrations? Of what?' she asked.

‘Why, my marriage, of course. You should have been there, it was quite a feast.'

Allura clenched her fists. ‘Are you telling me while I lay up here alone, trussed up like a roasting pig, you were feasting and drinking?'

‘And whoring,' he added with a deep sigh. ‘Don't forget the whoring.'

Her predicament forgotten for the moment she said, ‘And you dare to tell me that my body will be your property and yet you give yourself to sluts?'

‘I'm a man,' he said simplistically, clearly believing that to be justification enough. ‘Look, if you're just going to nag me I'll leave you to stew in your own juices a few more hours.'

‘Wait,' she cried as he rose, ‘don't leave me. Please, I can't be left like this any longer.'

‘And I can no longer bear the company of a spoilt little bitch, Allura. Are you prepared to apologize?'

She was all set to voice her indignation, but she knew it would only lead to more pugnacious behavior on his part. ‘I… I apologize,' said the once haughty princess.

‘For being a spoilt little bitch?' he pressed.

‘Yes,' she replied, tears in her eyes. ‘For being a… a spoilt little bitch.' But how the words stuck in her throat. Was it being a spoilt little bitch to request such simple considerations?

‘And you are prepared to be a good little wife?' he prodded, downing another swig from the flagon.

‘Yes,' she shamed herself all the more deeply, ‘I am prepared to be a good wife.'

‘And to obey?'

‘Yes.'

He laughed. ‘As long as I have you over a barrel, at least.'

‘Wait, where are you going?' she asked, as he staggered to his feet and weaved slightly towards the door.

‘I need a few things,' he said, belching, ‘to continue your lessons.'

Allura shivered at the implications. She did not want lessons, she wanted to eat, drink, and the ablutions. He left the door open behind him and with every passing second her heart sank further and further. For so long she had tried to be strong, but the tears were welling up.

‘Montreico,' she whimpered, sobbing slightly at his eventual return.

‘Miss me?' he grinned, and she almost had, pathetic though that felt.

‘What is she doing here?' Allura demanded, seeing the slave following him in.

‘Saraveeta has brought your breakfast,' explained the baron.

Allura stared vehemently at the slave, her short silk tunic complimenting her curves. ‘That is not her name, Montreico,' she said.

‘It is now. I've changed it back.' The baron snapped his fingers and Saraveeta lowered to the floor the tray she was carrying. On it were two bowls, one containing water, the other filled with a gray, pasty substance.

‘That had better be hers,' commented Allura.

‘These?' The baron looked innocently at the dog feeding vessels. ‘No, Saraveeta has already dined. Haven't you, my dear?'

The slave lowered her head; her cheeks blushed as Montreico rubbed his crotch suggestively.

‘I must use the toilet,' said Allura, deciding to ignore his goading, for the moment.

‘Certainly,' he said. ‘Saraveeta, fetch the chamber-pot.'

‘Put it there,' he pointed as she presented it. ‘On the floor.'

Allura sputtered. ‘You can't expect me to…'

The baron cut the binding straps on her wrists and ankles. ‘Unless you'd like to go on the floor?'

‘You will at least leave the room,' Allura said indignantly.

‘No, why would I do that?' he taunted, ordering Saraveeta to help her to the iron pot on the floor. ‘I will watch. It pleases me to do so.'

‘I will not squat for you like a bitch, Montreico,' Allura vowed, feeling lightheaded from her lack of food or drink as she struggled to her feet. ‘Don't touch me,' she said petulantly as her former friend tried to assist her.

‘A wife hides nothing from her husband,' he stated pompously. ‘You will piss in front of me or not at all.'

‘Fine, then I'll wet your bed,' she said petulantly.

Montreico wagged an unsteady finger. ‘That sort of childish display will earn you a stiff beating, my dear. One that will make it difficult for you to sit for the next week.'

‘What are you looking at?' Allura snapped at the hovering Saraveeta, who seemed to have no reason to be present but to make trouble.

The girl dropped to her knees. ‘Nothing, mistress,' she cowed before the princess' outburst. ‘I meant no offense.'

‘Well you did offend me, you stupid whore.'

‘Allura, I will not permit you to speak so to my slaves.'

‘
Your
slaves?' she gasped.

‘Yes, my slaves. Among whom is this one, Saraveeta, who is owed an apology by you.'

Instead of apologizing she struck the girl. ‘How's that, Montreico?'

By way of an answer the baron spoke calmly, sounding suddenly sober. ‘Saraveeta, go to my closet. In it you will find instruments of discipline. You will bring me the leather whip.'

‘You're bluffing,' said Allura. ‘Even you wouldn't dare use such an instrument on a princess of the blood.'

A few moments later he was wielding it, sleek and black like a venomous snake. When he cracked it, expertly, the blood drained from Allura's face as she saw the determination in his expression; not only would he use the lethal implement, he would take delight in doing so.

‘Montreico, I see no cause for conflict here,' she said quickly, backtracking. ‘Surely we can reach an arrangement.'

‘The only “arrangement” that interests me, princess,' he snapped the tip of the dastardly device an inch from her face, ‘is to have you writhing on the floor, helpless to avoid your inevitable punishment.'

‘Baron,' she put out her hands, ‘give me another chance. Let me please you.'

‘You will, Allura,' he vowed confidently, ‘you will.'

The first blow struck her exposed stomach, searing the taut white flesh, and the princess cried out, looking down at the vicious red line.

‘Now that I have your attention, my dear, I'd like you kneeling before me, where you belong.'

Allura slid to her knees, humbling herself. ‘Please,' she cowered, but he took a slice at her thigh.

‘Were you given permission to cover yourself?' he demanded.

‘But the pain,' she complained.

‘Pain?' he scoffed. ‘What do you know of pain? I'm quite sure you give ten times this much to your slaves. To Saraveeta, for example.'

Allura sought to shuffle back out of range, her dignity quickly evaporating, but he easily lashed her ass, then another blow across her shoulders brought her down onto her front.

‘You have a lot to learn, my dear. Your every defiance brings you more suffering.'

The princess no longer attempted to move. She took the next two blows with whimpers, one to her upper thighs the other again across her shoulders, a fine sheen of sweat forming on her agonized flesh.

‘You look very fetching this way, Allura,' he continued to mock her. ‘Shall I describe the marks to you?

She cringed, not knowing if she was expected to answer or endure in silence.

‘Crawl to me, wife,' said the baron. ‘And don't bother getting on your hands and knees; your belly will do fine.'

Allura slithered across the cold floor, well aware that her own slave was witnessing her disgrace.

‘You may kiss them,' he said, when she reached his boots. She stiffened in silent rage, but dared not disobey.

‘You obey well,' he mused, as she delivered tiny kisses with trembling red lips. ‘Perhaps I shall have you do this for all my men.'

He saw the shaking of her indignation and laughed. ‘Relax, princess, we do have to maintain your station. You'll be my slut and no one else's.'

Allura felt the seconds burn like hours. She was dizzy, and not only from hunger or thirst or shame.

As if sensing her simmering needs, he probed her verbally. ‘What are you prepared to do now, Allura?'

‘I will do what you say,' she breathed between kisses, wanting him to push her hard. ‘I will obey.'

‘But you've already been given instructions, haven't you? And you chose to ignore them.'

‘Yes,' she acknowledged, ‘I failed to obey.'

‘What will you do to fix it?'

‘I will urinate,' said the princess, on the verge of yet another shameful orgasm, ‘as I was told to, in the pot.'

‘And afterwards?'

‘I… I will do whatever I am told next.'

‘You will take your breakfast,' he supplied. ‘You will crawl on all fours to the bowls I have so graciously set out and you will feed.' He pushed her away with his boot.

‘How does this make you feel?' the baron asked, some minutes later, choosing the most damnable time to ask.

‘I feel… humiliated,' she replied, squatting over the chamber-pot, her urine tinkling into it. ‘It's not fair to treat me like this.'

‘I decided what's fair in your life from now on, Allura,' he pointed out. ‘If you want to eat you will do as I've told you.'