Revenge of the Dixie Devil (3 page)

Asdern continued to stare at the outlander with the same unreadable expression.

‘On your knees now, worm!’ Frost slapped her hand across Asdern’s other cheek. ‘That’s for not obeying me immediately. You continue with this dumb behaviour and I’ll do worse.’

Theodine watched, the breath trapped in her throat, as her husband fell to his knees in front of her. The sun shone through the window and glinted off the roaring lion melded onto the front of his chest piece.

‘Please forgive me for the way I spoke to you, my love,’ Asdern said in a humble voice Theodine barely recognised.

‘Kiss her boots,’ Frost ordered.

Theodine looked down at the rough leather of the maid’s boots she wore; they were covered in dirt and dust from the long run through the streets but the prince did not pause. His pink tongue lapped at the brown muck of her boots.

Frost grabbed a handful of the prince’s beautiful hair and yanked his head up as if he was a mangy dog begging for scraps. ‘Ask nicely and the princess may tell you how she paid for me.’ She released him and his head fell down to the floor as if he had no strength of his own.

Asdern kept his forehead pressed against the cold ground as he spoke. ‘Dear Theodine, my princess, please tell me how you purchased such a beautiful outlander slave.’

Theodine took a deep breath; things were going better than she’d hoped but still she felt nervous. ‘When I saw there was an outlander, all the tales I’d heard of them, their bravery and strength, I knew it would be perfect. I wanted a slave we could secretly train to dominate you far better than I’ve ever managed.’ She glanced over at Frost. ‘Not that it appears you are in need of any training or encouragement, but I didn’t know exactly how it’d be. You’re the first outlander I’ve met.’ She swallowed again and looked back down at her husband, prostrate before her. ‘I gave the trader gold but he said he needed more. And when I saw Frost I knew I needed her. He said I had to suck him off.’ She rushed the final words out.

Asdern raised his head and stared at her, but still she could not read his expression. Was he teasing her by playing along? She knew he could attack her with his full force in any moment and she’d be totally helpless. Her heart beat fast and her mind filled with images of the ways in which he might punish her.

‘I dropped to my knees in the middle of the whole market.’ Theodine spoke slower now as she gazed into her husband’s eyes. ‘The men around were laughing and shouting crude things, but I took the trader’s cock in my mouth. It was tiny and it stunk, but it gave me pleasure sucking on him with all those eyes watching me. My cloak hid my face but – but it excites me that someone could have recognised me as a princess kneeling before a filthy trader.’

Frost laughed. ‘Thank me, worm, or your beloved would have whored herself to every man who would have her. They would soon have known she was a lady when their rough hands were pawing at her lily-white naked skin.’

‘Thank you for protecting my wife,’ Asdern said, shuffling his body around to face the outlander.

‘And are you grateful, princess? Or would you rather I’d run by myself and left you to start a new life as a whore?’

Theodine blushed and Frost laughed, then she turned her attention back to the prince.

‘Remove your armour.’

Asdern struggled to remove the heavy pieces from his body; normally he had two men to aid him. Theodine stepped forward to help but Frost gave her a look that clearly told her not to move. The prince did not stop after removing the plate from his chest and legs; he also removed his underclothes, folding them in a neat pile next to his carefully placed armour before resuming his bent-over position in front of the women.

Frost waited in silence until he was entirely naked. ‘Stand up,’ she commanded.

Asdern obeyed and Theodine gazed at the hardness of his cock.

‘Are you so proud of your body that you want to reveal it to me?’ Frost walked around the prince in a large circle, reminding Theodine of a predatory cat.

The outlander stopped in front of Asdern and gripped his balls in her hands. The prince gritted his teeth and clenched his fists but he did not cry out or make any move to stop her.

‘When I asked you a question you answer it. Are you so proud of your body that you want to reveal it to me?’

‘Yes. I am proud. Yes, I want you to see it and desire me and use me.’ Asdern almost managed to speak in his normal voice, but Frost tightened her grip and the last words came out as squeaks.

‘Have you ever been penetrated, pretty little prince? I’m sure there are lots amongst your men who would love the chance to push inside you.’

‘I’ve never been penetrated,’ Asdern managed to say, the pain obvious in his breath, but Theodine noticed how hard his cock was remaining.

Frost smiled. ‘Then, as I’m feeling generous, I’ll prepare you for a big prick ripping you open.’

The outlander led the prince by his balls to the bed and pushed him over it, pressing his shoulders down so his buttocks raised up in the air. Theodine walked around to see what Frost would do.

‘Spread yourself for me,’ Frost said.

Asdern put his hands on his cheeks and parted them. Theodine gazed at the tight star hole; she thought she knew her husband well but this was a place in his body she’d never explored before. Frost smiled at the princess and she carried on smiling at her as she thrust three fingers into the prince. Asdern did cry out this time and Frost responded by forcing another finger inside him. Theodine came closer, leaning over her husband and kissing the scars on his body where she’d whipped him as the slave outlander finger-fucked him.

‘Now continue yourself,’ Frost pulled her hand away and Asdern groaned in the same way as he did when he came.

Theodine looked at the gaping hole as it contracted back to its former tightness and her prince tried to push his own fingers inside him in the way Frost just had.

‘Look at your husband, your prince, willing to debase himself on the command of a collared and leashed slave.’ Frost jingled the silver of her chain.

‘I can remove that,’ Theodine said. ‘I’ll get the smith to remove it.’

‘No. I like it. I like the symbols of slavehood when I have a prince bent over in front of me. What do you like Princess? What do you want?’ Frost caressed Theodine’s cheek with the same hand that had moments earlier been inside Asdern.

‘I want to fuck my husband.’

Frost flipped Asdern over onto his front. ‘Then fuck him.’

Theodine mounted the prince, sliding down onto him in a way that made them both gasp. Frost tore open the top of the maid’s dress and pinched Theodine’s nipples. Theodine ground against Asdern even harder. She gazed down at the lust in his eyes and then glanced up at Frost.

‘I’m sorry. This is what I bought you for. You’ve given us pleasure, now let me give you your freedom so you can find the destiny your gods showed you in your dream.’

Frost shook her head. ‘Sex is one of the most powerful motivators. I’ve hardly done anything today and already I have the prince of the first realm under my control. This is exactly where I belong.’

The tone of the outlander’s voice, the strange smile on her face, the ease with which she’d escaped from the traders … Theodine’s brain sent out a multitude of warnings that she needed to stop this before it was too late. Asdern bucked up into her, and as her body was overwhelmed by the power of his orgasm, the princess realised it was already too late and, more than that, she didn’t care.

Sex in Sin City
by Chris Westlake

Where’d it all begin, you ask? Now, that
is
a question! You might say it was that Black Thursday, when the market crashed and the whole country went into a Great Depression. If it weren’t for that day then Pappa would have been happy with me working on the ranch, helping with the hay, the wheat, and the cattle. Or maybe it was when they started building that great dam and all those people, from all over the country, arrived in our little town? No, for me it was when I hid and watched that rich lady spread her legs real wide for one of them dam workers, and he made her moan like a common little hussy. Yes; for me, that was when it all began.

My life had been so simple till then. I worked on the ranch with Pappa and my two older sisters, Evelyn and Marie. We always had done, always would do, or so I thought. The ranch had lots of cattle, a few horses and big fields with plenty of hay, wheat, and corn. Pappa worked hard, sure he did, but he seemed happy with his lot. We always had scrumptious meals round a long wooden table at the end of those hot, dry days in the sun. Then there were fewer cattle, the horses went, and with them went Pappa’s smile too.

‘Virginia,’ he would curse, ‘that Black Thursday will be the death of me, sure it will.’

Then one day, just like that, Pappa told me that he had gotten me a job cleaning in one of the gaming houses in Las Vegas. I remember the day and all. It was Wednesday 3rd August 1932. Gambling had been made legal again the year before, and so there was work to be had, he said. He looked real sad when he told me, like he didn’t want me to go. I hadn’t been to Las Vegas since I was 11, and I was 19 now. It was a sleepy little town, as I remembered. We were in the middle of the desert, bear in mind.

But that Wednesday, I couldn’t believe how things had changed. The roads were paved. There was a big red sign stretching right across the road which said
Welcome to Las Vegas
. There were cafés and hotels and salons and big Chevrolets parked on both sides of the road. Men in pin-striped suits with slicked hair walked the streets. It felt real exciting. I reckon it was the first time I really realised there was another world outside our little ranch.

And I loved the job. Yes, it was hot and sticky being indoors in my long black cotton dress, buffing those dusty wooden floors, but it was nice being surrounded by so many folks, even if they didn’t notice me much. I worked hard, scrubbing and polishing and buffing, and all the time I would happily sing to myself, just like I did on the ranch. And then the gaffer asked me to work Saturday evening. It was busy then, so he said. Pappa would be happy, I guessed, ’cos it was extra money, and there was not much of that ’bout.

It was like a different world again that Saturday, only an even bigger and more exciting one. I’d heard about the dam, course I had, everyone had. It was in all the papers and on the radio. Thousands of men from all over the country worked every hour of the day building it. Plenty of good men had already been killed, they said. The men lived in Boulder City, where there was no drink, no gambling; no
nothing
. But this Saturday, it felt like they were all
here,
and they wanted to do all the things they weren’t allowed to do back at the camp.

I knew my face was flushed with excitement as soon as I walked in the darkened hall. The big metal rotating fans on the ceiling could do nothing to keep away the heat. The tables were filled with young men in white cotton shirts, sleeves rolled up, smoking cigars and drinking brandy. Dice were rolled, wheels were spun and slots were pulled. For the first time, people noticed me. Yes, me; sweet little Virginia from the ranch. I could feel their eyes on me, staring at me, and liking what they saw. Eyes which gazed at the outline of my round derrière as I leant forward to scrub the floors, and which gawped at my full, fleshy bosom which just could not be completely hidden underneath my long cotton dress. Oh, and did I love that attention!

There was one man who really caught my eye. His white shirt seemed tighter than the others, filled out by strong, broad shoulders. I noticed a little pink scar going down in a straight line just above thin red lips. When he took a long swig of his brandy, I saw that his thick arms were covered in a thin layer of blonde hair. His eyes were as blue as the Las Vegas sky. The man saw me looking – staring, I guess – and he smiled. It was a cute little smile, which rounded and flared at the corners, and it was intended only for me. I felt heat flow to my cheeks. Deep down, though, I knew it wasn’t the only place I was hot.

There were other people in the gaming hall that night. Men in expensive suits and polished black shoes put big money down on the tables. Their wives stared open-mouthed and shrieked with joy when their numbers came up. It seemed to me that Thursday had not been so black for all folk.

This one lady really interested me, so she did. She was just like the other rich ladies who were with their husbands, for she had big shoulder pads, a corset which perfectly moulded her figure, wore a puff-sleeved gown and had white gloves which went all the way to her elbows. She had all the usual grace, charm and elegance. And yet in all other ways she seemed so
different
from the other ladies.

‘Yes, darlin’,’ she drawled to her husband. ‘You surely are the best gambler in the whole of Las Vegas.’ She leant forward, kissing him on his cheek. Only, as she whispered in his ear, her red-painted lips pouted and her eyelashes fluttered. The lady, for all her money and high manners, was playing to all the rough, rugged men in the hall.

I continued to clean, honest I did, but I confess that my eyes were elsewhere, and my mind was all over the place too. I was mesmerised by how the lady was dignified and respectable to her husband’s face and yet, behind his back, she was flirtatious and playful – and with other men too! One of them smiled at her, and she winked back, I promise you she did. My hot dress had crept up over my pale, smooth thigh as I watched, and my creamy leg glistened with sweat. I knew it wasn’t just from the heat of the room. The lady whispered something to her husband (what she said, I have no idea), and then she turned and walked, casual as you like, to the back of the hall. The workman watched her go, his eyes following the swagger of her hips. Then he pushed back his chair and, with nobody but me noticing but a thing, he followed her.

The heat between my legs was more powerful than anything I had ever felt. Hotter than that one long afternoon when, hidden away amongst the bundles of hay on the ranch, I pulled down my undergarments and played with myself until my fingers were sticky and glistening. Then, I could have stopped. Now, it felt like I had no choice. I followed the man, my metal bucket in my left hand, trying to look as normal as I could. Followed him all the way to the back of the hall, to the area that was out of bounds, right down one little corridor, and then another. I peeked around the corner, then stopped dead, went stiller than I’d ever been in all my days.

The wife pressed against the wall. Her face looked to the heavens. The blush she had applied to her cheekbones now blended with the blood that flowed beneath her skin. The white-gloved hand pressed down on a full head of dark hair. The flowing, pure silk dress full of folds and drapes had been pulled high over her long, slender thighs. My eyes moved lower. The common workman was on his knees, down at her white silk satin high heeled shoes. His face was deep between the open legs, kissing and licking and circling with his tongue. The lady had her eyes closed now, but her mouth opened wider, sure it did.

‘Oh yes, treat me rough, treat me rough, you bastard,’ she moaned, again and again and again.

My heart pumped now, a mixture of nerves and excitement, I reckon. I looked back toward the gaming hall. No folk could see me, I was sure of that. Behind me was just a corridor, and you weren’t allowed down here. I peeked around the corner again. The couple would not have known if there was an earthquake, I tell you. And so I pulled my long black dress high over my ample hips, and pushed two fingers inside my undergarments. I had to put my spare hand over my mouth to stop myself from moaning. I was wetter than I ever thought possible. The tip of my middle finger played with my little bud, which immediately became stiff and hard, and it felt oh so wonderful. I bit into my hand so hard I thought I would draw blood. I was panting now, breathing so fast and quick, it made me dizzy. The room spun. My legs felt weak and numb, and I knew I was having an orgasm, just like in the barn, only so much more powerful.

It was some time before everything stopped moving all over the place. I pulled up my damp garments and wiped my forehead with my brow. I took a deep, steady breath and turned to go back to the hall. Only, I stopped dead in my step, just as I had minutes earlier. The man from the casino, the one who had made me blush with his beautiful broad smile, was standing in my path, his wide shoulders filling the hallway. He was grinning, and his wonderful blue eyes seemed to sparkle.

‘I was just going to ask what time you finished work, and if you would like to join me for a drink,’ he said. His voice was soft. He was definitely not from the south. I wanted to speak, so I did, I promise you, but no words would come out. I pushed past him, my face red like beetroot. I reached the end of the wooden corridor and just could not stop myself. I looked round. The man was peeking round the corner, finding out for himself what it was I had been looking at. I could have died with shame, I tell you!

The rest of the night felt sort of unreal, you know, like a dream. Reckon my head was spinning all night long. The lady came back to the hall like nothing had happened. She kissed her husband on the lips and played the perfect wife. The gentleman who caught me in a compromising situation returned to his games. He looked over every so often and smiled. It seemed like a warm, friendly smile, I was quite sure, but never in all my days had I so wanted to know what folk were thinking.

The days working on the ranch seemed so much longer than before. My thoughts were of a different world. They were left on Fremont Street. My two sisters took every opportunity to giggle and tease.

‘Pappa, I think that Virginia must have a gentleman friend in the town, for she is forever daydreaming,’ they would say. ‘We’re sure we saw red hearts in her eyes!’

Pappa smiled, happy enough. He had been smiling again since I’d been working at the gaming hall. There had been no mention of Black Thursday, and our meals round the long wooden table were once again big and scrumptious. I reckon Pappa would’ve been happy if I’d met a nice gentleman in town who treated me right. I don’t think he would’ve been happy if he knew what I was really thinking about, though.

Weeks passed without ever seeing the gentleman. Worked a few days in the week and on Saturdays too, but he was never there. Pretty much gave up looking, so I did. Contended myself by polished the floors real good and signing under my breath. Nobody could hear me, I reckoned, as it was always so loud in the hall.

‘That’s a beautiful voice.’

It was Saturday night, and I was cleaning the slots at the back of the hall. I did not need to turn round to know who it was. The voice had been playing in my mind over and over, like a dusty record on a gramophone. The man was smiling again. He stood real close, and I could tell that he smelt good; strong and salty, just like a man should. His big blue eyes seemed to smile at me too.

‘You should be in the theatre,’ he added. I brushed long dark hair from my face, feeling all shy and girly. A warm glow covered every part of my body. Nobody had ever said anything nice ’bout my singing before. I wasn’t sure where to look.

‘I was hoping that you may still be interested in that drink, ma’am,’ he said, all gentle and nice, like.

I nodded my head without even thinking. ‘I finish at 11,’ I said, the words barely coming out of my mouth.

Now, if I thought time passed slowly on the ranch, it was nothing to those next few hours till 11. I tried to keep busy, promise I did, but my mind was on the gentleman. I had no idea what his name was, or even whether he really was a gentleman. All I knew was that I was excited.

Eleven did come round in the end, course it did. I stood, all shy by the slots, waiting. I tapped my flat black shoes on the wooden floor and nervously twisted my fingers together. With my long, shapeless dress I knew that I did not look right for going out in town, but there was nothing I could do ’bout it now. And then he appeared, striding through the smoke and the noise, white shirt tucked into his loose trousers, shoulders wide and waist narrow. There was a proper swagger to his step, I tell you. My body came out in goosebumps just looking at him.

He said nothing, just took my hand and led me out of the hall. It was dark outside, but the big signs flashed bright, and the paved streets were still busy with folks having a merry old time. A jazz band played a wonderful rendition of
Careless Love,
right there in the middle of the street
.
My handsome chaperon pushed open swinging wooden doors to another gaming hall. This one seemed even bigger, louder, and more electrifying than the one we’d just left. The tables were crowded with young men who had dice, cards, or brandy in their hands, an’ sometimes more than just the one. A chill of excitement crept down my lower spine.

My new gentleman friend seemed to know his way round the tables. We found a spot by the big spinning wheel with numbers going all the way round. He put two crisp dollar bills down on the table and was given a whole stack of those round tokens they called “chips”. The man squeezed my hand.

‘What’s your birthday, ma’am?’ he asked.

‘October 21st.’

He put a chip on the number 10 and then number 21. I reckon I must have looked all at sea, for he told me that we won if the ball landed on one of the numbers. The gentleman with the smart black tie put the ball in one way and spun the wheel the other. The ball went real fast, then it slowed down and just kept on going an’ going till it stopped on 21. I jumped up and down with joy I tell you, and I’m sure my bosom bounced all over the place too.