Rebel Slave

by Mlyn Hurn

  Chapter 2

  Jocienne awoke as the sunlight suddenly fell across her face. She opened her eyes and saw that two young servant girls, and one older woman, were standing in the room, looking at her. She blushed and hastily pulled the covers to her neck. The older woman shook her head and yanked the covers from her hands.

  “Come along, slave. Your master wants you bathed and ready to join him for a meal in less than an hour. We don’t have much time to get you ready.”

  Jocienne was almost dragged from the bed, intensely aware of her nakedness. She felt the seed of last night’s numerous mating begin seeping from her body as she was pressed towards the bath. She flushed as she remembered how many times he had emptied his seed in her body. She knew perfectly well what he was doing as he lifted her hips onto the pillow each time. Her attention was called back to the present as she was helped into the large tub and was further surprised as the young girls hurried to bathe and prepare her. The two girls had shaved her legs and underarms, and after the bath, they had again taken pains to shave her lower abdomen and pussy.

  A short time later she sat quietly while the one girl combed her hair to dry it. She was served a light offering of fruit, and given wine to sip. Once her hair was dry, her face was accented delicately with henna to blush her cheeks, and a deeper coating applied to her lips, to make them look full and pouting. She had once again been dressed in only a sheer pair of pants, which were full and gathered, tight at her ankles. But when she requested something to cover her top half, the old woman laughed and shook her head. They slipped the tiniest of sandals over her feet and then she was led from his quarters.

  It was a long walk to the meeting chambers. Jocienne flushed as she passed people in the hall, aware of their eyes roaming over her half-naked body. If Drakkor had wanted to shame her, and make her aware of her drastic change in status, then he was completely successful.

  As she entered the throne room, she was aware of the momentary silence. She knew she was the object of many gazes as she walked slowly towards where Drakkor was speaking with several titled men of his kingdom. She had been instructed that she was to stand three feet behind Drakkor and remain silent until he noticed her. She took her position, which also included clasping her hands together below her waist, elbows only slightly bent. She was to keep her head bent and eyes downcast, until ordered otherwise. The position forced her to notice that the position pressed her large breasts together and formed a deep cleavage, making the chain between her nipples dip down just a bit and begin a gentle swinging motion.

  * * * * *

  Drakkor had noticed her the moment she entered the room. She was just as beautiful as she had been last night. His memory had been correct, he was glad to see. He had surreptitiously watched her walk across the long room, enjoying how each step had her breasts bouncing and jiggling constantly. He had been sorely tempted to keep Jocienne in bed, but he had also known that she was a proud woman. He knew only by making her constantly aware of her new status would he be able to truly humble her. Drakkor didn’t want to break her spirit; he just wanted her to know who was master, and who was slave.

  Drakkor stood and continued speaking to the other noblemen for nearly 20 minutes. He was aware of how their eyes strayed to the woman behind him. Finally, he turned and faced Jocienne. Reaching towards her, he put one finger beneath her chin and raised her face to his. He held her eyes for several moments, not saying a word, and then he indicated for the luncheon to be served. Drakkor took his seat, which was a rather grandiose chair that his father had fancied.

  At the side of his chair was a smaller one, set back just enough so the table couldn’t be reached. Drakkor pointed at the chair, and Jocienne took the seat. He could tell by the quizzical look on her face that she was not sure what the placement of the chair meant. There was little doubt that she had assumed it would be her place to serve Drakkor. But in this position, it would be nearly impossible, unless she were to be on her knees beside him.

  The food was soon served, and Jocienne noticed there was a plate set for her. She was surprised when after a few bites of food Drakkor turned and offered a piece of fruit to her with his fingers. She lifted her hand to take it, but he shook his head, placing the fruit at her lips, and pressing against them until she opened her mouth. He slid the piece into her mouth, and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip as she started to chew. He turned back to the table and the conversation. Every few minutes, he turned and placed another morsel of food at her lips. He even held his wine cup to her lips several times, for her to take a sip. He didn’t speak to her once.

  Jocienne looked around the table, while keeping her head slightly bent down. She became aware of a beautiful blond woman, who kept calling Drakkor’s name, trying to capture his attention. She couldn’t help but wonder who the woman was, why she was so obviously trying to flirt with him. Her anger made no sense, and she told herself that it wasn’t anger at all. And it certainly wasn’t jealousy!

  She was shocked when, several courses into the meal, music started and two women were pushed into the open area of the room. Both women were dressed as she had been, but each had experienced a good deal more body modification than she had. One woman she barely recognized as having been in her band of rebels. Her name was Shanti, Jocienne recalled, but from there the resemblance to the woman she had been was gone.

  Shanti’s hair had been cut quite short, to her head, leaving a blonde one-inch buzz cut all over her scalp. Her brows had been plucked to thin lines over her eyes. Her ears had multiple piercing and her nose piercing was joined to her left ear by a fine chain. Jocienne saw her lips looked much fuller as well. It was impossible to not see the unrealistically large breasts that bounced wildly with her dancing. Her nipples had been pierced, but their chain went down below the fabric of her trousers. In some of her movements, Jocienne thought she saw rings hanging down between the woman’s legs. She grimaced in sympathy for the woman as she realized that her pussy lips had been pierced as well.

  Suddenly her attention was drawn towards the other woman dancing. Or she had been dancing until a man grabbed her. Without a pause he pushed her down to the floor, into a kneeling position. His hands jerked her trousers down past her hips, and then he pushed her face towards the floor. A moment later his hand was between the woman’s thighs.

  Jocienne couldn’t see too well, but it soon became obvious that the woman was being fingered erotically. Her hips were undulating, her breasts bouncing and her cries signaled both of her orgasms, just before they happened.

  Unaware she did it, Jocienne gasped out loud when the man shifted his own clothing aside to reveal his hard cock. A second later, he shoved it into the woman. Both hands closed on her hips and he began thrusting wildly in and out of the woman at his feet.

  She jumped in her seat a moment later as she felt a hand enclose her right breast, squeezing it firmly. Her eyes moved down and saw a masculine hand massaging her flesh. It surprised her that she had not noticed Drakkor moving his chair closer to hers. As she looked from his hand to his face, the grin on his face angered and embarrassed her.

  “I can’t tell by your face whether you are aroused by the sexual act in front of us, or you are embarrassed. Obviously you are quite distracted.” Drakkor paused and moved his hand to her other breast, beginning to squeeze and mold it with his palm and fingers. “What about the other woman? Perhaps I should have your body modified. Would you like bigger tits? Every breath you took would make them jiggle and shake. You would constantly be aware of them, especially your pierced nipples.”

  Jocienne flushed hotly at his words. The wetness between her thighs was growing and she wanted to ignore it! Perhaps she could pretend it wasn’t happening—

  “Or perhaps you would like to have your ass enlarged? That is what Edward did with his slave over there. Here that slapping sound? He said he wanted to bounce when he fucked his slave. You would have to agree that he has been successful.”

  Jocienne had noticed the woman�
��s very rounded and full ass cheeks as she had danced. The man called Edward was indeed bouncing off her flesh with each forward thrust. Her breath caught in her chest as Jocienne realized that she was becoming more aroused as she watched the other couple fornicating in front of everyone.

  “I could fuck you, Jocienne, right here in front of all these people.”

  She gasped in shock at how his words so easily mirrored her thoughts a second earlier. Surely she had no desire to be treated in such a cavalier fashion! Her eyes moved towards the other woman, staring at the large breasts bouncing and shaking and knocking into each other and starting it all over again. Her own breasts had always been big and she had been embarrassed by their size as she grew. It had been good to dress in loose clothing and live an asexual life after she’d left her father’s home.

  But now her blood was boiling along her veins and her nerves seemed to be singing in reaction to Drakkor’s words. His hands on her body last night and now today had quickly proven that she was not repelled by his touch, despite her brain telling her she should be. In fact, if he were to order her to her knees in front of him right now, she would do it! Her body was already craving his touches upon her skin.

  Suddenly her inner flesh tightened upon itself, startling her. A moment later, it did it again. Jocienne was shocked to realize that her flesh was demanding his cock inside her. She had felt this same contraction last night in Drakkor’s bed. It had been the fourth time that he’d awakened her and she had forced her lips to whisper softly.

  “We must not!”

  Drakkor had lifted his mouth from her left breast reluctantly; from the slow, wet lick he gave it with his tongue. “Give me one reason why! Not five, or even ten, Jocienne. Just give me one.”

  Jocienne had felt his cock between her pussy lips, pressing firmly along them. Her mind had struggled to find the words to express why he should leave her…she knew there must be a good reason. Then her body had contracted, once, twice and Drakkor had shifted his body until the head of his cock was poised to enter her flesh again. She had been shocked to realize that it was as if her pussy was trying to suck him inside, or gobble him up.

  “Feel your pretty pussy, my sweet. It wants me inside you. This lovely pussy is sucking my cock inside. It needs to feel my big cock shoved up inside it. You need to know my cock is stuffed in your body and my seed is spraying your fertile womb. It isn’t just your body that wants me plowing your belly. Your mind wants to know you carry my child in your belly. Your breasts want to suckle my child. This exquisite body demands my entrance and the placement of my seed. I can feel your cunt nibbling and pulling my cock inside. Every part of your body is demanding that I fuck you, isn’t it, my pretty princess? Deny it, if you dare!”

  Jocienne had opened her mouth to scream at him to release her. The words that had left her lips shocked her…or that is what she had told herself silently.

  “Fuck me! Fuck me now, damn it!”

  A moment later Drakkor’s cock had thrust between her wet pussy lips, burying itself to the hilt. He had pushed her thighs up and told her to hold them with her arms. Jocienne had obeyed him and soon she heard the wet, slapping noise of his balls following each thrust into her body. Each movement had been met with a grunt of her own. They had sounded like rutting animals, she had been shocked to realize. What was even more unsettling was that she hadn’t cared. All she had wanted was the feel of his cock, hot and hard, cramming up into her belly.

  Her climax had surprised her and she cried out in long, moaning, almost screaming yelps. After a few moments, while her cunt still spasmed, she had felt his seed entering her body. In that moment, Jocienne had wanted his seed to find fruit in her womb. She wanted his child to grow in her belly. The need to watch her tummy expand, her breasts swell with milk had been overwhelming. With his last thrust inside her, Jocienne had passed out, literally.

  * * * * *

  In the throne room, Drakkor reluctantly removed his hand from the luscious tits of his lovely slave. He kept saying the word to remind himself of their true positions. Taking a piece of meat dipped in gravy, he brought it to Jocienne’s mouth. Without pause, he smeared the gravy over her lips before he allowed her to eat the meat.

  Drakkor enjoyed the feel of Jocienne’s lips against his fingers. Her lower lip was full and sensual, and at one point a drop wine of clung to it precariously after she took a sip of his drink. He almost groaned out loud when her tongue slipped out and licked up the errant drop. If he kept this conversation going, he would soon have her kneeling in front of him and slaking his need within her flesh yet again.

  Commotion on the dance floor drew his attention. The man who just minutes earlier had been fornicating doggie style was now pulling the large-breasted woman off the floor. He sat in his chair, freed his hard cock and pushed the woman’s head down. His hands thrust into the slave’s long hair as her mouth moved up and down his manhood.

  Drakkor turned his head to watch Jocienne’s reaction to this sexual display. It was easy to see the shock and surprise on her face. Somehow he doubted the princess had ever witnessed a demonstration of oral sex before. Shifting in his chair, he leaned closer to Jocienne. Her eyes seemed to be glued to the couple as Drakkor slid his hand between her thighs. The trousers were slit and his fingers immediately felt her wet flesh. She might deny her reaction verbally but her body told its own story as he slid two fingers into her cunt. Immediately he felt the tiny contractions and vibrations already happening deep inside her body.

  Watching her face, Drakkor began manipulating his fingers inside her body while moving his thumb between wet folds to work her clit. The flare of her eyes opening wide followed by the tension he felt inside her body, told him something was happening between the couple.

  * * * * *

  Jocienne gasped as she felt Drakkor’s fingers inside her. She told herself to protest, but before she could do more than think that one thought, the slave’s owner halfway across the room was demanding something. He was saying something—

  “Give me something to cut this hair! I want to see her lips around my cock.”

  The next moment long strands of hair were being flung aside. The woman tried to lift her mouth, but her owner forbade her. Soon hair was strewn down her back and on the floor around them as the man continued to cut off her lovely brown hair. Jocienne watched in disbelief as the woman’s beautiful head of hair was quickly reduced to a half inch bristled cut all around. Some places were a little shorter or longer, but despite the man coming in the woman’s mouth almost as he cut the last hair, he had been surprisingly accurate in his cuts.

  The woman’s upset cries as her hands lifted to rub over the super short hair was barely heard by Jocienne as her body orgasmed that same moment. Embarrassed and wishing she could stop, she felt her body climax in her chair. Over and over her hips bucked against the hand which had so cleverly been orchestrating and controlling her reactions. Her hands had clenched over the arms of her chair and wetness was now flowing over Drakkor’s hand. Dimly she became aware that his eyes were watching her face the whole time. A heated blush covered her upper chest and face while her hips still danced to his tune of arousal. She was aware that her breasts had been bouncing wildly enough to make the chain jingle.

  Drakkor finally removed his hand from her wet pussy. Her eyes followed his as they lowered to his equally wet hand. She saw him grin as he rubbed his wet hand all over her naked breasts.

  “Now that was fun,” he told her softly while his hand spread her gooey wetness all over her breasts. “Who needs a towel when I have these pretty titties to dry my fingers?” Turning his head, he saw that the now shorn slave was still crying quietly, and rubbing her new bristly-brush cut. “What made you come so hard, my sweet slave? Was it watching everyone else fornicating, or seeing that woman’s hair being cut against her will?”

  Jocienne jerked her head sideways and met Drakkor’s intense gaze. Her honest answer surprised her, as well as her inquisitor. “I don’t know.�
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  Chapter 3

  Drakkor stood abruptly, which caught everyone’s attention in the large room. Reaching down he curled his hand around Jocienne’s upper arm and pulled her up to stand beside him. Without a word to anyone, he left the room, pulling Jocienne close beside him.

  “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly, walking quickly to keep pace with Drakkor. It was obvious to her that he didn’t care how much attention they caused as he walked her swiftly through the halls back to his rooms.

  Inside his chambers, he moved without pause over to the bed. The quickness of his movements caused Jocienne to trip and fall onto the bed just as he released her arm. Drakkor turned to ring the service bell for a servant. When two serving girls entered the room accompanied by two quite large and muscular guards, Jocienne hastily tried to cover herself with bed covers. It was almost as if her “master” could read her mind because he grabbed the covers and tossed them aside.

  “Make sure we are not disturbed until I ring again!” he told them, turning to look down at Jocienne. “Prepare our evening meal to be served in my rooms.”

  Jocienne was intently aware of her sprawled position on the bed when Drakkor reached over and unfastened the ornate trousers she was wearing. His hands pulled them down past her hips and off her legs. As she watched him shedding his clothes a moment later, a buried voice in her head told her she must protest.

  “This is wrong!”

  Drakkor smiled at her weak protest. “Why is that, princess? Tell me why my eyes should not feast upon your beauty as one enjoys the fine curves of a magnificent sculpture or the intricate brush strokes of a lovely painting.”

  Jocienne frowned at his words. Praising her beauty was something she had not heard for a very long time. “What I look like should not matter, Lord Drakkor.”