Innocent

by Aishling Morgan

  ‘Did I do it well?’ she asked as rose to kiss her.

  ‘Fine, in its way,’ Jelkrael said. ‘Certainly a fine fucking. Otherwise, perhaps too fast, if anything. Be wary of disappointing the crowd, always. Also, you made little display. The squat was good, with your full rear view on show, but even then you held yourself like a man. Curve your back, flaunt your buttocks, push out your breasts. Display, Cianna, this is the key!’

  He slapped her bottom and strode away to talk to Yuilla and Yufal, leaving Cianna puzzled and slightly put out. Showing off was all very well, but she was already naked, which meant showing everything she had, while it seemed impossible that a race as boastful as the Makeans would expect her to do anything less than her best. She shrugged, putting it aside, and went to get water and a towel. Klia joined her as she washed, hugging her with real passion.

  ‘You did well,’ Klia said, ‘and thank you for masturbating me. I’d give you a lick if we had the time. Perhaps after you’ve fought Yuilla?’

  ‘If you like,’ Cianna replied, blushing at the compliment. ‘So we did well, you think?’

  ‘The crowd liked it, there was plenty of money on the sand.’

  ‘What of my display? Jelkrael says I don’t show off enough.’

  ‘You don’t really, but then, you have your style. Now be careful, with the next. Yuilla resents you, and though she knows she must lose, she will try and hurt you.’

  Cianna nodded, glancing over to where Yuilla was warming up. Above them, the crowd where calling for more, and had begun to stamp, making the decking shiver. Yuilla met Cianna’s eyes, and stood, walking forward to near the mouth of the corridor.

  ‘Cianna first, as victor,’ Jelkrael said, beckoning. ‘Babalyn, go out. Cianna?’

  Cianna crossed to him.

  ‘Now remember,’ he instructed. ‘A spectacle. Plenty of cunt. With Klia you showed too little. Throw if Babalyn instructs.’

  ‘Throw?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Cianna nodded as Jelkrael stepped forward down the corridor. Yuilla gave her a hard look, and leant close to her ear, whispering.

  ‘If it goes my way, you slut, you can expect more than just piss in your mouth. I’m going to shit in it. Think on that.’

  Cianna made to answer, horrified by the idea and suddenly confused, uncertain if she was still supposed to win or if the fight was now fair. She made to speak, only to hear Jelkrael announcing her. She stepped out and the crowd roared, leaving her smiling and blushing, once more failing to make the display expected of her. Jelkrael gave her an insistent look and she managed to bare her teeth. Jelkrael went on, announcing Yuilla, who stepped out onto the sand, to more stamping and obscene suggestions.

  Babalyn raised her placard and Cianna crouched down, pushing her uncertainty from her mind. Yuilla was facing her, her body tense, all that mattered as Cianna dropped lower, watching her opponent’s eyes, the crowd now no more than a blur in the background. They circled, warily, moving gradually closer, until Yuilla’s right hand came forward, her left back, only to switch, the left darting out at Cianna, to be caught, twisted, and jerked, sending her sprawling into the sand. Yuilla was face up, Cianna remembering what Jelkrael had said and briefly dipping her bottom into her opponent’s face. Laughter and cheers rang out from the crowds, along with the hurried calling of bets as Cianna waited for Yuilla to rise.

  Yuilla now looked angry, her fists tight as she got up to face Cianna. Poised, Cianna flapped out a hand, swung up a leg in a clumsy pirouette, dropped suddenly as Yuilla snatched for her ankle. Hurling herself forward, she caught Yuilla in the midriff, lifting her, legs splayed, high in the air and over, to crash to the sand. Again she dipped, squatting just low enough to push her bottom into Yuilla’s face before the girl could get her breath back, then jumping up to curtsey to the delighted audience. Yuilla cursed, snatching at Cianna’s ankle, missing, rolling quickly upright and leaping forward to catch Cianna in the side.

  They went down, hard against the wall of the pit, Yuilla clawing for Cianna’s face. Cianna lashed out, catching Yuilla’s arm to send her spinning back, red faced with fury, spittle running from her mouth. She came in immediately, making no attempt at technique whatever, spitting curses, scratching and kicking. Cianna caught both Yuilla’s wrists, holding her back, ignoring one kick, then another, to force Yuilla down by main force. Blind fury showed in the girl’s face, but she could do nothing. Cianna felt a wave of elation as she drove Yuilla down into the sand, intent on forcing a submission, first round or not. Twisting suddenly, she forced Yuilla around and into an arm lock, tightening it, only for Babalyn to step out, calling the round.

  The crowd were yelling and stamping, calling ever larger bets on Cianna, with the bookmakers calling back, at ever lower odds. Cianna stood back, stretching as Yuilla climbed painfully to her feet. A coin landed at her feet, large and gold, which Babalyn hastily collected, then straightened up to hug Cianna.

  ‘Throw,’ Babalyn hissed.

  Babalyn broke away with a wink, then ducked again to retrieve another coin. Yuilla had risen and was rubbing at a rising bruise on her thigh, looking absolutely furious. Jelkrael had appeared in the tunnel mouth, and Yuilla glanced at him, her expression changing for a fraction of a second.

  Now sure of what she was supposed to do, Cianna braced herself, sinking back into a crouch as Babalyn lifted a new placard. Yuilla was facing her, her fingers twitching, then suddenly rushing forward. Cianna ducked, slamming into Yuilla’s legs, to throw her high and send her crashing into the sand. Yuilla stayed down, but Cianna made no move to press her advantage, sure that Jelkrael would expect more of a show. Yuilla got up, slowly, blowing out her breath before once more turning to Cianna. They closed, grappling, their faces briefly together.

  ‘Now, you stupid slut!’ Yuilla hissed.

  Cianna gave the tiniest of nods, ducked low, slid her hand over the mound of Yuilla’s sex, clutched, lifted, held her high and hurled her to the sand. Yuilla stayed down, gasping for breath as Cianna came quickly forward, applying a leg lock.

  No!’ Yuilla hissed. ‘I can’t… Let go you stupid slut!’

  The crowd were roaring, demanding that Cianna finish Yuilla, hurling coins and baying for the dildo to be brought out. Cianna increased the pressure of the hold, watching as Yuilla’s teeth gritted in pain.

  ‘Submit!’ Cianna demanded.

  ‘No!’ Yuilla hissed and once more Cianna tightened her grip. ‘Ow! I submit! I submit, you vicious bitch!’

  There was a great yell of joy from the crowd. Cianna released the lock, giving Yuilla’s leg a last twist to force her over onto her back, and rose, arms high to the crowd. Yuilla stayed sprawled in the sand, her eyes shut, breathing heavily, her thighs wide, with the centre of her sex pink and glistening. To one side Babalyn appeared, holding up the dildo, the sight of which drew fresh calls from the crowd. It was thrown, and Cianna caught it, strapping it quickly in place to leave herself with a thick, dark phallus sprouting from her crotch. Calls rang out for Cianna to fuck Yuilla, at which point the beaten girl’s eyes came open in shock. Staring in horror at the dildo, she began to scramble back over the sand.

  Laughter rang out from the crowd. Yuilla was against the wall of the pit, eyes wide in terror, hands crossed over her sex. Suddenly two men in the crowd had reached down, grabbing Yuilla’s arms and pulling them up, to hold her, kicking and writhing against the planks. Cianna stepped forward, not sure if she wanted to do it, but telling herself Yuilla’s reaction was only show.

  Kneeling, she brandished the phallus over the helpless girl’s sex. Yuilla gave a cry of despair, but her legs stayed wide. Cianna took one of Yuilla’s ankles and held it up, to be grabbed by a willing hand in the crowd. The other followed, leaving Yuilla spread helpless, her sex agape. Cianna lowered the phallus, touching it to the wet opening of Yuilla’s hole. It went in, and the crowd roared to see Yuilla penetrated, coins showering down on them and the sand around. Cianna pushed, gently, watching the thick woode
n shaft slide up Yuilla’s hole, stretching the mouth to a taut pink ring. Slowly she began to fuck, in and out, watching, then taking Yuilla in her arms. The men let go, and Cianna mounted Yuilla as a man would have done, fucking her on the sand. Yuilla’s thighs came up and she moaned, drawing delighted laughter from the crowd. Cianna began to fuck faster, pumping madly in Yuilla’s body, determined to make herself come against the base of the dildo. It felt good, yet the angle was wrong, the calls of the crowd and the patter of coins on her back and legs distracting. In the end she gave up, deciding to take her pleasure with Babalyn later instead.

  Pulling the dildo from Yuilla’s sex, Cianna stood, raising her hands to the applause of the crowd and turning once to show off the juice smeared shaft of her toy. Only then did she remember what Babalyn had said. Yuilla lay dazed at Cianna’s feet, her nipples stiff, her vagina leaking fluid onto the sand. Ducking low, Cianna took hold of the exhausted girl, lifting her, high, tossing her up onto her arms. The sight was greeted by wild cheering from the crowd. Cianna grinned, showing them her fangs, flexed her muscles and hurled Yuilla out into the midst of them. The response was deafening, roars of delight and encouragement, fresh coins hurled down onto the sand, offers to fuck her, and to buy her, some in the hundreds of standards.

  In response she pretended a curtsey, as if she was in a long dress. This drew fresh laughter and calls of encouragement, so she repeated it, then stood tall. Unbuckling the dildo, she let it swing from her hand, striding happily back to the mouth of the corridor. Babalyn was there, looking worried, and immediately put her arms around Cianna, hugging her close.

  ‘A fine fight, was it not?’ Cianna asked, suddenly uncertain. ‘Jelkrael will be well pleased.’

  ‘Well pleased?’ Babalyn responded, her tone utter disbelief.

  ‘Why not?’ Cianna asked. ‘Did I do something wrong? Should I have waited longer, to provide a better spectacle? The crowd seemed pleased.’

  ‘You were supposed to lose!’ Babalyn exclaimed. ‘That was the whole idea!’

  ‘How could I lose?’ Cianna protested, feeling suddenly hurt. ‘She is slow, and weak… You said to throw her, anyway!’

  She stopped as Jelkrael himself appeared in the passage, his face crimson with anger. With his mouth set in a tight line, he beckoned her towards him. Cianna went, bemused.

  ‘To the wagons, now,’ he snapped.

  ‘The wagons? But…’

  ‘Obey!’ he said, through grated teeth, and reached out to take her by the ear.

  She was dragged to the door, squealing and protesting, of which Jelkrael took no notice whatever. Outside, the great square was lit with the rich yellow of afternoon sunlight, throwing dark shadows from the wagons. Jelkrael let go of Cianna’s ear and took her by the hand, smiling and exchanging pleasantries with the people they passed as he marched her to his own wagon, which had the covers up. Several people were watching, grinning, as she was hustled up onto the rear of the wagon and through the flap, obviously assuming that Jelkrael was about to fuck her. Still confused, she let herself be pushed into the interior. She waited as he sealed the flap, stealing an uneasy glance at the horse and saddle, which had been set up at the end of the wagon. Glaucum lay beside it, one eye open, watching her lazily.

  ‘Get on the saddle!’ Jelkrael snapped as he turned back to her.

  ‘You wish to fuck me, now?’ Cianna asked.

  ‘I want to beat you, you idiot! Now get on!’

  Cianna went, bending over as she had been ordered as much from confusion as obedience. The position left her bottom high and her thighs well parted, a position for whipping girls as well as fucking them, as she knew. The fights had left her aroused, and she could feel the warmth in her sex, so much so that the thought of the coming beating made her giggle. Jelkrael looked at her in angry amazement, his hands already at the buckle of his thick belt.

  ‘This amuses you then?’ he demanded. ‘That you are to be thrashed for your stupidity?’

  ‘No… Yes…,’ Cianna answered in confusion. ‘My tuppenny is hot from the fighting. Yet I don’t understand. Why so angry? Babalyn says I was supposed to lose…’

  ‘Barbarian idiot!’ he shouted suddenly. ‘You have cost me thousands!’

  ‘We took plenty of money!’ Cianna protested.

  ‘Not on the gate, in bets!’ Jelkrael raved. ‘The bookmakers were sure you’d win! They were offering ten to one against Yuilla! Ten to one!’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Cianna said. ‘Is not all well, then?

  ‘Not it is not all well!’ Jelkrael yelled. ‘Did you not get the signal?’

  ‘Yes. Babalyn said to throw her out of the pit. I did.’

  ‘I said to throw, to throw the match! Stupid savage!’

  ‘I don’t understand!’ Cianna wailed.

  ‘I will explain,’ Jelkrael hissed, suddenly cold, ‘so that you understand why you are thrashed so severely. On the gate tonight, and from the pit, we have perhaps four hundred standard, of which half is ours. With the odds at ten to one, Yufal placed two hundred standard on Yuilla to win, carefully, scattered among several bookmakers. We would have collected two thousand standard, two thousand! This is what you have lost me!’

  ‘No…’ Cianna began, only to scream in shock and pain as he brought the belt down across her bottom with all his force.

  The blow jammed her forward on the saddle, face down, and a moment later his hand had twisted hard into her hair.

  ‘It is not my fault!’ she squealed. ‘You are always changing your plans!’

  ‘Silence!’ Jelkrael roared and hit her again, full across the meat of her cheeks, once more to make her scream and buck.

  The next caught her before she had readied herself, and the next immediately after, sending her into a thrashing, kicking panic, her bottom bouncing to the smacks, her legs and arms flying in every direction. Smack after smack rained down, until her heel caught Jelkrael beneath the chin. He staggered back, mumbling curses and rubbing his chin, also panting. Cianna turned her head, looking at him. Her bottom was aching dreadfully, and hot all over, but she could feel the wet juice between her thighs and the warm urgency of her sex.

  ‘Why not fuck me?’ she asked. ‘It would make you feel better, I think.’

  ‘Does no amount of pain get through to you?’ he demanded. ‘Klia would be in tears from less, begging me for mercy.’

  ‘Then fuck me,’ she urged. ‘I am sorry for your loss, but it was no fault of mine…’

  His mouth had set into a hard line, and she stopped, then wiggled her bottom, hoping to entice him. He lifted the belt and she tightened her grip on the horse, only for his grim expression to change suddenly, to a broad grin.

  ‘You’ll get your fuck, slut,’ he said, ‘but not from me. Now get down.’

  Cianna climbed from the saddle, rubbing at her bottom. He was smiling, his fat face red and moist with sweat.

  ‘This is ideal,’ he said. ‘People saw me drag you in here, they must have heard your screams. They’ll know I beat you, though they won’t know why. It doesn’t matter. When you run, they’ll think it because of the thrashing.’

  ‘Run?’ Cianna queried.

  ‘Yes, run,’ Jelkrael answered, ‘You’ll run now, and in a half-hour I’ll set Glaucum on your scent. He’ll have you before sunset.’

  Cianna gave an uneasy glance at Glaucum, who had pricked up his ears at the mention of his name.

  ‘That way,’ Jelkrael went on, ‘you can recoup at least some of the money you’ve lost me.’

  ‘You will charge?’ she demanded in horror. ‘To let people watch me fucked by Glaucum?’

  ‘No,’ he answered, puzzled. ‘Who would pay good money to see some slave slut punished? Such spectacles are common enough in the street. You’ll be watched, yes, but at no charge. The money will come from Yufal’s bets on where he’ll catch you and how long he’ll take with you. You’ll hide in a tree, and he’ll take the half-hour to which he has been so carefully trained. You get long
odds on a half-hour.’

  ‘And should I refuse to run? What will you do, sell me to the powdermills?’

  ‘No, you are too good a fighter to sell. I will make certain adjustments to the saddle, have you fixed to it in the square, and leave you out for public fucking. In addition to cunt dogs, we Makeans make pets of the lesser wood apes, mandrills, some even own goblins for the discipline of their slave girls…’

  ‘I will run,’ Cianna stated, ‘but do not be surprised if I am not caught.’

  ‘You think you can out run Glaucum, sweaty and moist as you are? Even I can smell your cunt! You have fought twice as well, and can hardly be fresh. Now remember, up a tree, or it’s the saddle in the square for you.’

  Cianna nodded, making for the flap in the wagon. Outside the sun was moving close to the horizon, the shadows longer and darker than before. She jumped down, ignoring curious looks from the two male slaves, and padded into the alley beside the pit. At the end she turned, towards the sea, running faster, and faster still, down a long alley that wound between high houses.

  She was seething with resentment, determined to escape, for all that she had no idea what she would do with her freedom, or how long it would last. What mattered was defying Jelkrael. Few people were out in the streets, and those that were gave her only curious glances. When she reached the broad esplanade that fronted the sea a few began to point her out, those who had watched her fight. None tried to stop her, but they watched as she crossed the beach and splashed into the sea, turning to run next to the shore.

  Knowing full well that she could expect nobody to keep silent for her sake, she ran faster, with the ground rising to her left, to form a low, sandy bluff, then a shallow cliff. With nobody in sight, she left the sea, scrambled up the sandy face of the cliff by clutching at clumps of coarse sedge and salt plants. At the top she found herself clear of the town, on an open meadow. In the west the sun had touched the horizon, the light fading even as she dashed back towards the buildings of Ioto. Reaching the nearest, little more than a ruin, as the last trace of light faded from the sky, she swung herself quickly up into an ancient nuttop. To do as Jelkrael said was galling, yet if she was caught it seemed sensible to avoid as much of the public defilement as she was able. Clutching the gnarled trunk and panting with exertion, she prayed that the trick had been enough to fool Glaucum.