"Oh, how deliciously smutty." A woman's accented voice slithered through the thundering in Joelle's ears.
"Dame Baset," one of the guards grunted.
There was a smacking sound as Dame Baset spanked one of the attendant's hard buttocks. "Keep at it, slave! Baco and Cernno are bringing the stallion in now for this slutty mare."
***
Saxon walked naked with a hard prick between his thighs, and with Baco and Cernno holding his upper arms on either side. The Germans both wore black hooded robes, while Hellion, in flowing white, was walking in front of them, carrying a long silver chain that was hooked to the collar around Saxon's neck.
Saxon's chest heaved and he stumbled on his bare feet as Cernno's hand lewdly groped his ass. Stubby fingers feeling deep into the cleft, while Baco kept shooting warning glances at Cernno. Saxon tried not to gag. He tried to keep moving forward. Toward Joelle. He had to get to Joelle. He had to see her. He latched his mind onto those thoughts and those thoughts only, while Cernno furtively played humiliating bugger with his oil-slicked ass.
He had to imagine how he appeared nude. Thick wavy brown hair, falling nearly to his waist. His tan skin oiled, his brown-shaded eyes dead, and a wide black leather collar around his lean muscular neck. His pubic hair shaved with his prick swaying heavily and rigid between his thighs in a bluish and pink-tinged red. Men purported they were never singularly embarrassed by their nudity. God, he wished that was the case. It crawled at him, snaking with reluctance over his naked flesh. It angered him also. It was a seething cauldron in his belly, and when he finally, after what seemed like years of disgusting supplicant waiting, saw his chance, he grasped it with everything he had left inside him, after playing the ultimate acting of his ever before played chameleon parts.
It was simply a candle. A candle as wide as his hand perched on a three-foot freestanding iron candle holder, which was set in front of flowing black taffeta that was covering a wall. It was in an area behind and to the side of the main chamber where he assumed, "the event," was about to take place. They had ascended a small flight of stairs and turned into a narrow short corridor, then into a smaller area.
Just as they left the entrance from the corridor into the small area, Saxon staggered to the left toward the candle. "Ah hh, do it harder, Cernno, it makes my cock throb," Saxon mumbled.
He judged he had enough length on the leash to reach the candle without Hellion, whose back was turned to them, being aware. Cernno's hand on his upper arm let go with a spasm as Cernno's other hand groped his ass more lushly, nearly prodding a blunt finger into the entrance of his asshole. Saxon moaned as though he were receiving pleasure as he leaned more into Cernno like he might be trying to embrace him. The motion dragged Baco along on the other side and propelled Cernno back toward the standing candle holder and the burning fat candle.
But he was on the wrong side and he had to use his handless wrist to swipe at the candle holder. Nevertheless, Cernno's back tapping the holder aided his swipe. The candle and flame fell backwards toward the material. Saxon had to imagine the material had been hanging for ages, dry and full of cobwebs. Instantly, the thin spider fortresses began to flame, the first willing fodder for the beginning blaze of the material.
"Stop dallying," Hellion ordered. His exclamation came when the leash stopped him, instead of following easily behind his turned back.
Saxon was jostled between Cernno and Baco, who were quick to gather him upright between them, before Hellion was able to turn fully around and see. The two Germans did not notice the fire starting behind them right away, but Hellion would as soon as his gaze turned. It could not matter, Saxon thought, with satisfaction finally lifting his chest. He could not imagine where they could discover water quickly enough to put the flames out. He kept his gaze riveted to where Hellion's would be. He wanted to see Hellion, when Hellion understood the portent of the fire.
Hellion's gaze swept past him, then returned with a jerking motion, to his dark-eyed stare. Something like the flash of a question, then perhaps dawning understanding worked over Hellion's skeletal white face. Hellion seemed to just barely grasp what it was that he wanted him to grasp in that moment. The possibility that Saxon was not hypnotized after all.
Abruptly, Hellion's gaze jerked upward, then back and forth on either side of where Saxon and the two Germans stood. "Imbeciles! Fire! Fire, you idiots! Behind you!"
Cernno and Baco released Saxon with a rush of exclamations as they turned. "The consecrating water, you fools! Get the urn quickly!" Hellion shouted.
Saxon did not really comprehend the meaning of Hellion's shouted words, because he had a more urgent demand driving him as he balled his fingers into a fist. He staggered toward Hellion, whose white robes billowed in agitation. At first Hellion seemed unaware of his approach as Saxon drew his arm and fist backward. Nevertheless, at the exact moment Saxon swung his fist forward, Hellion's face turned toward him and his fist connected with Hellion's jaw with an audible cracking sound. Saxon felt the pain explode into his hand as Hellion's pink eyes bulged, and then Hellion staggered and began to go down.
Saxon followed, crouching with his lips hissing and his arm swinging back for another strike. But then, out of the blue, it seemed to Saxon's centered mind, a strong hand caught his swinging arm. And then, more forceful hands than he could overpower, tugged him backwards.
It was both of the black attendants, Saxon realized, as they wrestled him, bowed forward to his knees. Their strong hands crushed the back of his neck and shoulders, barely allowing him to look upward. Nonetheless, he could see Joelle also forced to her knees beyond where Hellion was rising to his feet.
"Da fire is out!" Baco's exclaimed. "Da water in the urn was enough. Good thing it was there!"
"Damnation," Saxon cursed with a suppressed bellow. His body jerked hopelessly against the hands holding him down.
"What is it? What has happened?" Incubus exclaimed, with his voice suddenly entering the fray.
"Nearly a fire, but only some smoke to put up with," Dame Baset said. "The stallion appears more untamed than we envisioned," she added.
"I thought he was well controlled. Totally hypnotized," Incubus started to say.
"Quiet!" Hellion's voice snapped, and then Saxon felt Hellion's robes slap against him, before Hellion grasped his jaw roughly, tugging his chin upward and holding it at a painful angle, straining his neck. Hellion's pink eyes and ashen face twisted with murderous rage as he stared into his irises.
"You think you fooled me?" Hellion spat.
"Yes!" Saxon defiantly twisted his jaw beneath the crushing press of Hellion's fingers.
The rumbled sound Hellion made was that of a demon's outrage.
"We cannot have this now, it is nearly midnight," Incubus interjected.
Hellion swept his body around still holding Saxon in his claw-like grip. "Bring the mare here and the Satyr knife." Hellion's voice resounded, carrying more of its commanding bass tones than moments before.
Chapter Thirteen
Joelle had never been more proud of another person before as she was of Saxon. It was as though something she'd known was there sprang to life before her eyes. And the wretched terror and revulsion that had been jerking through her body began to recede. Saxon's courage alone, simply to try, helped to sustain her. Nevertheless, she barely had time to realize it, or what Saxon had tried to do. Or the fact that all this time Saxon truly had the hidden inner strength to thwart Hellion's mind-bending voice, before she was dragged forward on her knees before Hellion and beside Saxon.
She saw the flash of a long curved knife, but more, she felt it as her head was tugged backward, arching her throat to the blade. Her naked breasts heaved as she saw the deathly twist Hellion's hand held on Saxon's jaw.
"Marquess, if you do not fuck her like a beast in heat, if you do not follow my exact commands, I will skin her alive!" Hellion hissed.
The knife slid on her flesh and she felt the bite of the blade, as an uncontrolled whim
per escaped her throat.
"I will!" Saxon heaved through the clamp of Hellion's fingers. "I will!"
The blade left Joelle's throat, and then the hands tugging her hair roughly pushed her head forward as Hellion swept away, saying, "Get the slut to suck him. I need him hard shortly."
The next thing Joelle heard as she tried to look up at Saxon was Hellion thundering with his resonate tenor voice. "The Order of the Satyr will convene fellow hedonistic worshipers!"
"Suck him or I will slice his balls," a harsh voice rasped above and behind Joelle, just as he shoved her over onto her hands and knees between Saxon's thighs.
Joelle tried to tell herself that a lesser woman would crumble, as she heard Saxon above her, make a strangled and desperate sound in his chest. "Gladly, I w-will," Joelle managed to say, wondering where the brave words came from. To save yourself and Saxon of course, her mind exclaimed. To save your souls together.
Joelle grasped Saxon's flaccid cock with courage and intention. The natural heat of it flushed against her palms as the exposure of her nude buttocks bent over from behind crawled up her spine. She did not really have a clear idea of what to do, but Saxon's cock was already beginning to fill her palms, since she first touched it.
"My own hands gliding over your soft breasts," Saxon whispered in an intense seesaw voice above her. "The feel of your lips moving heat against mine. Your tongue sliding against my tongue."
Joelle realized with each intensely whispered word that Saxon spoke, his cock got harder. He was doing it to arouse himself! He was concentrating to make his cock rigid so that she would not have to...
Joelle opened her mouth, and then she lapped her tongue outward toward the bulging head. When, her tongue touched the searing flesh, Saxon hissed lowly, ending in a groan. His cock twitched in the circle of her fingers, stretching them wider.
"That's it, slut, suck it. Suck it!"
A hand tangled into her hair, pushing the back of her head downward. There was no other choice; the head of Saxon's cock forced her lips open. A moment of supreme choice flashed in her mind. It was only seconds to react. Horror, or compassion, disgusted refusal or open-minded acceptance. Damn them all to hell, Joelle thought, and she took what she could of the hot and expanding male meat thrusting her mouth widely open.
She sucked.
Joelle curled the sides of her tongue and she drew the bulky head to her palate and she suctioned deeply. The taste . . . the essence of Saxon that sprang into her mouth was hot, musky, and male. Out of nowhere her own body responded with a moan churning from her belly. Her breasts strained suddenly with the nipple tips feeling like little sparks snapping on the ends, while her loins flushed with an ache echoing in her vagina that connected to her clitoris with erratic throbs.
The hand tearing into her hair was harshly pulling and pushing, making her mouth suction up and down the first quarter of Saxon's hot-fleshed cock. That was as much as she could seem to fit into her mouth. Nevertheless, the hand pumping her head seemed to think she ought to take more and on each downward plunge, the head of Saxon's cock battered the back of her throat. Grazing her lips roughly.
"I am hard now," Saxon hissed, above her as though he could barely speak.
"But we like watching this cunt suck on your fat dong." The voice came from a distance behind them making Joelle realize how many watched as she tried not to gag, while Saxon's cock became slick with her saliva. Her breasts bounced and her bare buttocks gyrated as her body lurched up and down. Her mouth being forced to mate with Saxon's cock grew rosy with friction, while her lips grew puffy. But still her sex ached harder, while tears burned her eyelids and the fast, wet sucking sounds of her mouth filled her ears.
"I'll cum!" Saxon expelled, as though it were thrown from his chest.
"Stop then," Dame Baset's voice ordered. "Cernno! Stop!"
"Fuck! Cernno! Halt!"
Joelle heard grappling above her, then behind her, and suddenly she was free. But the head of Saxon's pulsating cock was still in her mouth. Choices. There were always choices. Then, she gently swirled her tongue over the knobbed head in her mouth, tasting male seed on the edges of her tongue as she turned her gaze up to Saxon. His eyes were like dark chocolate laced with red embers. His face was harshly lean, with his hair framing his face in waves.
"Joelle," he expelled on a sharp edge.
Her answer came in another swirl of her tongue, this time over the heated slit of his cock. Then suddenly sounds seemed to rush into her hearing.
"Bring the virgin cunt now. It's time!"
Joelle gasped as more hands grabbed her and the head of Saxon's cock popped out of her mouth. The hands were everywhere, tugging, lifting, and jerking. Four men, Baco, Cernno, and the two attendants lifted and turned her nude body onto her back as they held her high over their heads. Joelle could not help the panic that made her struggle as her long red hair swung free and they carried her like a flat cross, out into the altar area.
She could hear the murmurs of excitement, making her harshly aware that a large number of people filled the room. She could feel the hundreds of eyes on her gleaming nudity as the men carrying her, began to turn her slowly in a circle. They held her legs open so that her sex was gaping as she struggled uselessly to try and close her legs. The only movement she could manage was an up and down thrust of her hips as she whimpered and her bare breasts bounced. She knew that was what they wanted. An unwilling virgin sacrifice, but she could not stop or catch hold of the panic in her mind.
"I offer a virgin mare to our great God Bacchus and his symbol, the flowing-haired Satyr!" Hellion shouted with his voice a symphony of bass ecstasy.
Joelle heard the chanting of hundreds of voices. "Ohm, Bacchus! Ohm, Bacchus."
Then, the men holding her began to lower her onto the altar. She struggled, panting when the cold stone touched her naked flesh. She twisted and writhed, trying not to allow each man to manacle her wrists, spread above her head. Then, her ankles were tugged wide and manacled also. There was some length on the chains to the manacles around her ankles and she could bring her feet back together a foot apart.
She wanted to scream, but her throat was too tight as Hellion drew near with a gilded bowl in his hands. Once she saw the demonic thinness of Hellion's absent face with its glowing pink eyes, she shuddered to a halt in her struggling. Here was a face to defy. A single entity in the myriad assaulting her. And she knew that Hellion wanted her struggles. She knew that all in the room fed on her terror and her shame.
"You slut," Hellion hissed beneath his breath, with his face twisting with his displeasure at her stillness. Then, his free hand not holding the bowl reached into a hidden pocket in his stark white robes. Joelle filled her lungs. Her mind had abruptly cleared enough to react, and she realized the perfect revenge.
"I am not a virg . . . !" she began to scream shrilly. But the tone of a bell ringing once, brought her mouth to a gaping halt.
"Not a virgin of God, but a virgin of Bacchus!" Lord Hellion's shouted, falsely finishing her statement. Then, he turned his face to her, and he hissed lowly, "Every touch I place on your body will feel as though I am burning you with hot flames!"
Saxon fought against two new attendants now holding him, as Joelle's cries filled the air. He could see her from where they held him. He could see her naked and supple body writhing and undulating against the chains holding her. Her ivory flesh gleamed like oiled alabaster, while her bare feminine pussy called rapaciously to any male within sight.
Saxon wondered what in God's name Hellion was doing to her. It looked as though Hellion was painting her skin with his fingers dipped in blood from the bowl he carried. First, Hellion painted circles around Joelle's breasts, then he dabbed her nipple tips. Each touch of Hellion's finger caused Joelle to thrash and cry out.
Saxon's chest heaved and he barely noticed Dame Baset's hand on his penis, slithering up and down his shaft, pumping it to keep it hard. Hellion's fingers dabbled in the blood and he intoned senseless
words bastardizing all forms of religions. Then, Hellion painted a line of blood from Joelle's cleavage to the top of her shaved slit. Joelle's knees bent as she tried to get away, but the chains stopped her.
Saxon's gaze swept from her torture to the crowd of worshipers watching and chanting. How could they watch this, his mind questioned with misbegotten decency? But he saw the worshipers in front had thrown open their robes and they were masturbating their pale cocks and hairy cunts. Somehow, seeing women shocked Saxon further as he thought what an innocent fool he was.
Joelle's screams became shriller and he turned his gaze to see Hellion smearing her naked pussy with blood. Joelle's feet kicked partially up in the air as she writhed, and Dame Baset's hand on his prick stroke faster and harder.
Hellion finished Joelle's pussy and he turned to the worshipers shouting. "And now! The Bacchus' Satyr stallion will fuck the virgin to glory!"
"You will prance!" Baco snarled harshly into Saxon's ear. "Or da little mare cunt out there will get da knife in her virgin heart."
Saxon pranced, with his cock stiff and hard while it swayed like a heavy weight between his thighs.
Joelle panted with tears clogging her throat and burning in pools in her eyes. She heard a crowd of people raising a frenzied sound as her body seemed to shake uncontrollably. She could not see through her tears what was happening, but she realized somewhere out there, very lowly beneath the roar of the crowd, she heard music. Someone humming music over and over. A tune she knew. It was a Gypsy song her grandmother sang. Joelle turned her head on the altar, blinking hard to try to shed her tears and see. Then, she did. She saw Yojo swaying from side to side, humming the tune. "Sir Yojo," she whispered, and his small face lit up with a crooked smile.
My Lady Series Bundle (1-5) Page 47
