Innocent

by Aishling Morgan

  Faintly, she heard Raigos laugh as Glaucum gave a wriggle to push himself yet deeper up her bottom. She felt her anus close on the shaft, beyond the knot, and knew that the fat cock was well and truly trapped up her bottom. Galucum was going to bugger her, for his full half-hour, with the men watching and laughing on how often she came, on how badly she degraded herself.

  ‘I wonder if he can bugger all four?’ Aqual said, provoking laughter from his companions.

  Raigos answered, his tone jocular, changing suddenly to alarm, and to a scream of unreasoning terror. Instantly Glaucum was scrambling off her back, his knot popping from her ring to make scream in sudden pain. She went over as he leapt free, sperm spurting from her well buggered anus. Glaucum fled, whimpering, down the slope. Cianna looked up, back towards the girls.

  Above her, not thirty paces away, a hideous apparition hung in the air, writhing tentacles with a grotesque, half-human face at the centre, the eyes burning scarlet orbs, the mouth a black hole, ringed with needle teeth. Raigos had run, Aqual too, and the other digger. Telak stood, lifting his gun, which roared out, spitting flame, to tear one great tentacle from the demon’s body. The head began to turn, slowly towards Telak, the maw widening. Telak dropped the gun and fled.

  Nairgren stood alone, screaming at his men to come back. His sword was clutched in both hands, his face white as he backed from the demon. Sulitea called out a word and the demon struck down, enveloping Nairgren, who screamed, hacking desperately with the sword, babbling in insane terror as the tentacles wrapped around him. The sword flew from his hand, full into the demon’s face. The tentacles jerked, shivering, loosening for an instant. Nairgren broke loose, and fled, his screams mixing with those of Babalyn, who was cowering terrified in the grass, also the open laughter of Aeisla and Sulitea. Cianna rose, weak kneed as she stood, to walk back to the others. Ignoring the demon, she went to Babalyn, taking her gently around the shoulders.

  The four girls sat in a wide pool, bathing themselves in cool stream water. It had been their first desire, once Babalyn had been brought out of her hysteria and persuaded that the demon was no threat to her. By then the five men and the dog had long vanished into the distant trees.

  After collecting the men’s equipment, they had begun to search for a suitable bathing place. Sulitea talked all the while, explaining how she had landed the demon on the night they became separated, only to be swarmed over by goblins and dragged down, overcome by musk. Like, Aeisla, she was pregnant, her belly rounding out, which Cianna found it hard to keep her eyes away from.

  Finding the little gully between two sharp tors, they chose a pool and plunged into the water to rinse the accumulated filth from their bodies and hair. Five times Cianna washed out her hair, then sat on a rock below the surface to douche herself and clean her bottom.

  ‘What of you, Cianna, Babalyn?’ Sulitea asked.

  Cianna nodded to Babalyn, who began to speak, telling her own story, and Cianna’s, to the point of seeking shelter in the goblin burrow. Sulitea and Aeisla listened attentively, slapping their hands on the water surface in recognition of Cianna’s wrestling achievements, and at Babalyn’s description of the death of Ulourdos.

  ‘Fine,’ Aeisla stated. ‘You should be proud.’

  Cianna shrugged, smiling and blushing at the praise.

  ‘How long did all this take?’ Sulitea asked. ‘I truly do not know much time has passed?’

  ‘Over three months,’ Cianna told her.

  ‘Three months! It seems like hours, or years, I don’t know. Three months, wasted!’

  ‘Not so,’ Cianna said. ‘I have your knowledge, or most of it. There are three ingredients for the black powder. The first is nitre, a substance gained from dung. The second is brimstone, a yellow powder found in the vents of volcanoes. The third is simply charcoal.’

  ‘And it’s preparation?’

  ‘They are mixed together, which is dangerous. Water is involved.’

  ‘This is all you know?’

  ‘Is it not enough?’

  ‘This is good,’ Sulitea answered. ‘You have done well. Not well enough sadly. We need more knowledge. How it the nitre prepared from dung? From what wood does the charcoal come? What proportions of the three ingredients are needed? How must they be mixed? Are cantrips needed to prevent explosion, or to ensure the efficacy of the process?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Cianna admitted, suddenly close to tears.

  ‘The water is to prevent it exploding prematurely,’ Babalyn put in. ‘Otherwise she knows as much as I do.’

  ‘To have discovered what you have is a great achievement,’ Aeisla cut in. ‘Better anyway than ours.’

  Sulitea made a face, her hand going automatically to her swollen belly.

  ‘You are… pregnant?’ Cianna asked cautiously.

  ‘How could we not be?’ Aeisla answered. ‘Three months, and fucked every day. My poor tuppenny will never be the same, nor my bottom ring! As for the pregnancy, I wouldn’t be the first.’

  ‘I have preparations for these things,’ Sulitea said, ‘both the pregnancy and slack flesh. I can make us virgin if I wish, back in Boreal. What matters is the powder. You have come close. We need only the final details, at least enough so that the sages in Thieron may start to experiment.’

  ‘You wish to continue?’ Cianna asked.

  ‘Naturally,’ Sulitea answered. ‘Have we come all this way to fail?’

  ‘But I am pursued,’ Cianna objected. ‘Every man in Makea seeks the reward for bringing me in, and when Nairgren brings news of your demon, they will come here in full force, with archers, bombards, warlocks…’

  ‘Not warlocks. Not in Makea,’ Babalyn said. ‘What you do is unknown, Sulitea, in Aprinia too. When Cianna said you would summon a demon, I thought it only the hopeless wish of a trapped slave.’

  ‘It is how we came,’ Sulitea answered, ‘and how we will return, once we have the full secret.’

  ‘Then there is a simpler answer,’ Babalyn went on. ‘Bring me back to Blue Zoria. My father will have all the knowledge you need, or at the least he will know those who do. In his gratitude he will gladly tell you whatever you ask. Also, it will be to the standards of Aprinian science, far superior to the primitive techniques of Makea. We make guns, bombards, that you can hold in your hand, and which fire six or eight shots, each one from its own capsule. There is nothing like that here.’

  ‘I will bring you back to Blue Zoria,’ Sulitea said, ‘and gratefully accept whatever your father will tell us. What I can not do is go to my uncle, who is King in Thieron, and tell him that my maid has obtained a crucial secret while I have spent three months being endlessly ravished down a goblin burrow!’

  ‘Why not?’ Babalyn asked. ‘You should be proud of Cianna.’

  ‘I am,’ Sulitea said. ‘I am also ashamed of myself.’

  ‘I also,’ Aeisla added.

  ‘Why so?’ Babalyn insisted. ‘No woman can resist the scent of goblins. Once we have it in ours heads we are lost. This was not your fault.’

  ‘In Mund,’ Sulitea explained, ‘a high-born girl is expected to resist, at any cost. Already I am thought an irredeemable slut, simply because I allowed myself to get carried away once or twice. I had hoped to restore my place. Now I will be a laughing stock!’

  ‘Then don’t tell them.’

  ‘I have to say something! Cianna or Aeisla must tell the saga for me, and I for them. To leave out a few embarrassing details, such as Cianna and her dog, maybe, but I must have something to my credit.’

  ‘Claim the deed for yourself.’

  ‘Claim an honour due to Cianna! Unthinkable! Better to admit to the goblins!’

  ‘What do you intend to do then?’ Cianna demanded.

  ‘I must consider carefully,’ Sulitea answered her. ‘First, describe this place Julac again, in greater detail.’

  Cianna felt her flesh crawl as the great clawed hand pulled from her waist. She shook herself, fighting down her fear, and scuttled into
the shadows, pressing between the comfortingly warm and human bodies of Sulitea and Babalyn. Above them the long sinewy arm of the lank demon withdrew, reappearing a moment later to set Aeisla gently on the earth.

  ‘Well?’ Sulitea hissed.

  ‘The great building with the chimney is the nitre plant,’ Babalyn answered quietly. ‘To the side, the long, low sheds are for the slaves, the wider ones I am not certain of. Otherwise there are stables, a wagon shed…’

  ‘No matter,’ Sulitea cut her off. ‘To the nearest slave shed, come.’

  Sulitea moved forward, going carefully in the near blackness. Cianna followed, her own confidence rising in reaction to Sulitea’s calm certainty. The idea was to offer freedom in exchange for the information they needed, a proposal they were certain no slave could refuse.

  For five days they had stayed hidden in a cave high in the mountains, preparing and waiting for a night with the right conjunction of moons. While the others discussed the details of their plan, she had spent much of her time constructing clothing from the equipment abandoned by Nairgren’s men. As a result, each of them now wore a short, tight skirt and a crude chemise, both of coarse green material. They also had weapons, Aeisla with Nairgren’s sword, Cianna with another, although Babalyn had refused to take the gun, declaring it primitive and as dangerous to the wielder as the target.

  They reached the shed, crouching down in the shadow of the wall. Cianna wrinkled her nose against the reek of dung, which they had been able to smell long before they reached Julac. She had imagined it would be unbearable in the actual plant, but it now seemed less strong, and she realised that she was actually getting used to it. Aeisla ducked down beside her and they looked back, finding neither movement nor light.

  Moving to the front of the building, they found the doors bound shut. The rope was cut and they slipped inside, in near blackness. Cianna got down on all fours, crawling slowly forward with her fingers stretched out before her. A new smell caught Cianna’s nostrils, an acrid, male tang, of sweat and unwashed bodies. There was sound too, breathing, small movements, a sudden muttering noise, immediately stilled. She hesitated, thinking of the goblins and wondering just how many men were in the building, men who had not had sexual contact with a woman in years. Behind her the door creaked shut, and the blackness became absolute. Forcing the images of what the goblins had done to her from her mind, she moved carefully forward. Her fingers touched cloth, then skin.

  ‘Here,’ she said quietly, reaching back to touch Babalyn.

  A questioning grunt sounded from the darkness, followed by a rapid shuffling noise.

  ‘Shh,’ Sulitea’s voice sounded, soft and calm. ‘Do not speak.’

  ‘Who?’ a voice demanded. ‘You are a woman!’

  ‘Shh!’ Sulitea repeated, more urgently, ‘let go of me! Be quite, we are here to bring you free!’

  ‘Why are you here?’ the man demanded, aloud. ‘Have the pushers sent you for us?’

  ‘Be quite!’ Sulitea hissed. ‘And get your hands off my breasts! We are here to bring you free, do you understand? To free you, in return for knowledge!’

  A second voice sounded, and a third, one grumbling, and the other inquisitive. Light flared, dim and red, leaving Cianna blinking as her eyes adjusted. Suddenly there was silence. She looked up, finding herself on a dirty floor, looking down between a long line of crude wooden pallets, on each of which lay a man, perhaps fifty in all, some still asleep, most stirring or already sat up. At the end of the room one stood, his hand still on the cover of the nightlamp.

  ‘Ice cannibals!’ the nearest man spoke, clutching his blanket to his chest in terror. ‘Spare me! Do not eat me, I pray!’

  ‘Eat you?’ Sulitea demanded. ‘I can think of nothing more repulsive! We are here to free you!’

  ‘Free us?’ another man asked. ‘We are slaves.’

  ‘Now you are slaves,’ Sulitea went on. ‘Only tell me what I need to know, and we will free you, all of you. You have my word on this, and I am a High-Demoiselle and the niece of a King.’

  They looked back blankly, some still in terror, others in apprehension, some curious. All were now awake. Sulitea stood, raising her hands, a gesture that strained the fabric of her makeshift chemise against her big breasts.

  ‘I will explain,’ she said. ‘Will this light draw attention?’

  There was no answer. Cianna glanced around again. The men looked hesitant, scared, but cocks were stirring beneath the thin blankets as lust rose up in the face of fear.

  ‘Sulitea, Mistress,’ she said quietly, plucking at Sulitea’s chemise.

  ‘Be quiet,’ Sulitea answered, ‘we have little time. Now, you men, listen. I am Sulitea Mund, a powerful witch. Outside the wall of your compound waits a great demon, able to lift you over the wall with ease. To whoever wishes their freedom, I grant it, and in return I ask only that you tell me what you do, here at Julac. You, tell me?’

  She pointed at the man they had first spoken to, who was still staring blankly at her breasts. Beneath his blanket his cock was erect.

  ‘What do you do?’ Sulitea demanded. ‘You process nitre, yes?’

  ‘I am a dung boiler,’ he answered.

  ‘A dung boiler?’

  ‘I boil dung.’

  ‘To what purpose?’

  ‘If I do not, the pushers will beat me.’

  ‘What of you others?’ Sulitea sighed. ‘A trifle of knowledge for your freedom.’

  ‘We are slaves,’ one said.

  ‘Beyond the wall is jungle,’ Sulitea said, ‘enough to hide in for years, or band together, raid a harbour, steal a ship.’

  ‘We are slaves,’ the man repeated.

  Beyond him another man had pushed back his blanket, exposing a big, dark cock, close to erection. Sulitea gave a hiss of frustration and a nervous glance at the window. A second man threw back his covers, taking hold of his cock, to masturbate blatantly, his eyes fixed on the girls.

  ‘They are Makeans and Vendjomois,’ Babalyn said quickly. ‘There are no Aprinians here. Slavery is all they know.’

  ‘They must want freedom!’ Sulitea hissed.

  ‘Quickly,’ Aeisla urged. ‘Someone will see the light. They may investigate.’

  Sulitea hesitated, biting her lip. More men had exposed themselves, making no effort whatever to conceal their cocks as they masturbated over the sight of the girls near naked bodies. Sulitea cursed, Babalyn moved close to Cianna’s side.

  ‘If you are so gutless, then,’ Sulitea said, ‘and so lustful, I offer my maid, to suck the cock of any who will tell me what they do to prepare nitre.’

  Cianna’s mouth came open in protest, but shut it as Sulitea gestured to her. None of the men spoke.

  ‘Is she not beautiful?’ Sulitea said, gesturing to Cianna. ‘Cianna, open your chemise, pull up your skirt. Come on, this is no time for modesty! We must hurry!’

  Reluctantly, Cianna put her hands to the fastening of her chemise, tugging it to let her breasts spill free. A quick jerk had her skirt up to her waist and she was showing everything. Immediately the men’s masturbation became more urgent, their attention more focussed. One came, a great jet of sperm erupting from his cock to splash over his thin body. Others started forward, most of them.

  ‘Remember the bargain,’ Sulitea said, retreating quickly. ‘Come, Cianna, give Aeisla your sword and get down on your knees.’

  ‘I…’ Cianna began, only for her protest to turn to a startled squeak as a hand took hold of her bottom. ‘Help me, Babalyn!’

  ‘How?’ Babalyn demanded.

  ‘With some of them, of course,’ Cianna answered, quickly passing her sword to Aeisla as the men clustered around her.

  She took a cock in her hand, tugging at it. Another pressed himself into the crease of her buttocks, erupting the instant he touched her skin, spurting sticky, hot come between her cheeks. The one in her hand came too, all over her hip. She pulled back, trying to exert some control over the situation, but going straight into the
hands of two men behind her. One grabbed her breasts, rubbing his cock in the slimy crease between her buttocks. The other curled his fingers around her belly, slipping two up her vagina.

  ‘Stop! Not my tuppenny!’ she exclaimed. ‘One at a time!’

  Her protests were ignored, the men closing in on her, pressing their erections to her flesh. She tried to struggle, but her feet were taken, pulled off the ground to sit her down hard on her wet bottom. Her hair was grabbed, a cock forced into her mouth, even as her legs were spread wide, four men struggling for the privilege of being the first to fuck her. A cock was jabbed towards her eye, which she shut an instant before it touched. He came, delivering a full load of sperm across her face, even as one of the struggling men got his way and her vagina filled with cock.

  As he began to fuck her, the man in her mouth exploded, leaving her gagging on sperm. She pulled her head back, coughing, with sperm bubbling out around her lips, several men tussling to be the next in her mouth. One came, right in her face, and another, closing her other eye to leave her blind. The man inside her came, pulled back, another filling her slimy hole immediately. More sperm splashed in her face, her mouth was filled, her hands pulled up to take a cock each. Sperm spattered across her breasts, more in her face. A man slid under her, prodding between her buttocks, finding her sperm slick anus and easily forcing the little hole. Another man came in her mouth as her rectum filled with cock. One cock was pulled out, another stuck in immediately.

  She was being jerked from side to side, rubbed on, fondled, pinched, slapped, with wad after wad of sperm erupting over her and into every orifice. Several used her bottom, more her vagina, still more her mouth. Soon every inch of her face was plastered with sperm, her breasts also, with men groping them to smear the slimy mess across the smooth skin. Her belly was covered, her hands slippery, her hair matted. It hung from her ears and chin in streamers, bubbled from her nose, farted rudely from her anus and vagina each time they were vacated, squelched loudly as they were refilled.