by Cleo Cordell
Gabriel's cheeks flamed. Rebellion flared inside him. 'I... I will not.'
Sita laughed. 'You are wickedly disobedient! But willing. The fact is evident. Soon your groans shall speak for you. Squirm you shall. You'll buck and writhe for my pleasure, and if you do not give a good account of yourself, then . . .'
Gabriel tried not to react, but that unfinished sentence held such promise - and he sensed that Sita did not make empty threats. An ache was building in his loins. There was a tightness in his belly, an eagerness for the touch of the crop that he could not deny.
'Loop his arms over the top of the stall and hold them there. Thrust him forward.'
Gabriel found his shoulders pulled back and his chest thrust out by the new position. Someone grasped his hair and pushed his head forward. He was made to look down his body. So, he was to watch everything. The thought excited him further.
Sita kicked his legs apart. 'You and you take his legs. Hold his ankles.'
Each leg was grasped and pulled back. The knees, slightly bent, were drawn around the sides of the stall. In this way Gabriel's hips were thrust forward. His belly was pulled flat, his erect cock sticking straight out in front. The vulnerability of his position, the way his phallus and testicles were exposed almost terrified him. Sita slapped his cock from side to side, smiling coldly when the engorged flesh jerked and twitched. The other women stroked his skin, tickling his armpits, straying between his legs to nip and pinch at his scrotum. He tried to pull back, hollowing his stomach and wincing at the little darts of pain, but they laughed and teased him more roundly.
'Enough!'
Sita drew back. For a moment longer she ran her eyes over his body, admiring the perfect musculature, searching his face as if trying to read his expression. Then she brought the crop down in a stinging blow across one of his spread thighs. Gabriel drew in his breath at the pain of it. Sita began laying on the strokes steadily. First one thigh only, until it glowed a deep scarlet. Gabriel wanted desperately to pull his legs together. But they were held fast, pulled apart so widely that the tendons at his groin showed pale beneath the skin. He could do nothing but suffer the beating.
The warm pain radiated out from one thigh. Each time the sting faded the pain turned to heat. His thigh seemed to blossom, to positively glow. His cock jerked and throbbed. He was afraid that Sita might whip his balls by accident and the threat of it caused his buttocks to contract and his anus to twitch. But Sita was an expert with the crop. When his thigh was a satisfying shade of red, she turned her attention to the other one.
Gabriel sweated and heaved. The muscles in his legs bulged as he writhed. The blond curls under his arms were soaked. They gave off a musky scent. One of the guards holding his arms leaned forward and buried her face in the hollow. He felt her hot tongue lapping at his sweat, while the others laughed and spurred her on.
Sita too was sweating. Her tightly fitting leather jerkin had dark stains under the armpits. Runnels of sweat ran down her neck, disappearing inside the neckline. She paused and rested the crop against her leg. Swiftly she unlaced the tunic and stripped it off. Under it she was naked. Her torso was spare and muscular. Her breasts were very small and high, the nipples large and cone-shaped, deep brown in colour and erect.
Gabriel breathed raggedly. His thighs felt as if they were on fire. His shaft was swollen to bursting point.
The sight of Sita's tiny breasts inflamed him. They would have been childlike except for the prominent nipples that were pointing at him almost arrogantly. He wanted to nuzzle those rigid brown teats, to throw her on to her back and plunge himself inside her. Oh, it was sweet torture to be denied that release.
Sita smiled slowly, looking into his troubled grey eyes. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Gabriel steeled himself for the next blow, but it never came. Sita drew close. She made a gesture and his head was jerked upright. He looked into her face, felt her hands stroking his inner thighs softly as if assessing their warmth. Even that gentle touch was torture. The heat and soreness seemed to shout at him.
Sita smiled, then clawed into his spread thighs, squeezing the tormented flesh, hard, while her tongue moistened her thin lips. Gabriel gasped as a dart of pure pleasure shot down his cock-stem. Sita leaned over him. Her face was inches from his. She put out her tongue and licked his cheek.
He turned towards her and managed to brush her cheek with his lips. 'Please,' he whispered, not caring now if he begged.
She jerked back, a spasm of displeasure marring her face. Then she smiled. Moving down his body she rubbed her breasts across his sweat-slick torso. Gabriel felt the stiff peaks brushing his skin, nudging his own nipples, igniting and teasing them. He felt one of the other women reach for his phallus. She grunted with satisfaction as she felt the clear emission from his cock-tip. She smeared the liquid around the head of the stem while he moaned and thrust into her hand.
Sita stood back for a moment. She fumbled with her belt, opening the loose trousers and pulling the legs free from her boots. She let them fall. Wearing only the high leather boots she drew close. Her arms went around his neck. He felt the hard stubs of her nipples pressing against his chest. She made no attempt now to pleasure him. Lifting herself on to him, Sita straddled his spread thighs. In one swift movement she sheathed herself on to his cock. Gabriel cried out as his cock was drawn deeply into her narrow orifice.
The different sensations were maddening. Her heat surrounded him, the strong inner muscles rubbing against his shaft. He felt the coldness of her leather boots as she hooked her calves tightly around his hips. Shards of pleasure and soreness filled him as Sita worked herself up and down on his straining member, her bottom bouncing on to his reddened thighs.
It was over swiftly. Sita uttered a series of hoarse little cries as she rode him hard. All at once she arched against him, throwing her head back. He dipped his chin and drew one of her nipples into his mouth. It was like sucking on an almond. He bit down gently on its firmness. Sita groaned and drew back, almost pulling the nipple from his mouth. Her inner tremors gripped his cock-stem just at the instant that his fluid rushed out.
He had hardly time to register the pleasure. The last pulsings were still jetting from him when Sita pulled herself free. Still breathing hard, she stood up.
'Let him loose,' she ordered shortly.
The women obeyed. They slapped Gabriel's buttocks, blew him kisses, and winked at him, then walked away. Gabriel stood there shakily. His sex was shining and still dripping semen. His thighs throbbed with warmth, but the pain, like the pleasure, had already become a memory. Sita dressed swiftly, her face expressionless. She pointed to the back of the stables where Gabriel had left his broom and bucket.
'Get on with your work,' she said. 'Food will be brought to you later. And you may rely on the fact that you will be punished at regular intervals. This time, you found pleasure, for you are beautiful and hard to resist. But don't expect such soft treatment every time.'
'And no soft words ever?' Gabriel said.
Sita only stared at him in incomprehension. 'Clean yourself up,' she said, turning on her heel. The others followed. One of them threw him a hunk of bread and an apple. Left alone Gabriel washed himself with cold water. He picked up his leather pouch and put it on. After he ate the food, he went back to his cleaning.
It was quiet in the stable. His head was again filled with images of Marietta. Apart from the times when the guards came to give him orders, or to torment him, he thought of her. All he could think of was how beautiful, how desirable she was. And how much he wanted to repeat their experience inside the carriage.
The fear that he would never see her again added a poignancy to the desire he felt for her. Perversely, that was why he had become inflamed by Sita; for she was the very antithesis of the lovely French woman. Sita was as cold and heartless as Marietta was warm and vibrant. Now that his brief flare of passion for Sita was over he felt disgust at his weakness.
He could never help becoming arou
sed by those who tormented him. Always he was spurred on by feelings of submission. Selirn had perhaps trained him too well. Certainly he had been highly valued, even pampered at times, by the jewel merchant. Gabriel had respected his old master. There had been an odd sort of nobility in serving such a man.
Conversely, Sita treated him as if he was worth no more than a piece of meat. He suspected that she would have acted that way regardless of Kasim's orders. Sita, the others too, took their pleasure and turned their backs on him. The thought that he might be left in this situation forever depressed him. He leaned on his broom. Suddenly he felt drained, numbed of all emotion. All, that is, except the fear. Worse than anything - worse than the fact that he might be left at the mercy of Sita - was the thought of what Marietta might be suffering.
'Where are you?' he said aloud. 'What are they doing to you? I pray that your God will keep you safe until I see you again,'
It was daylight. Smells of dust and dung lifted on the hot air.
Marietta tried to make herself into a ball. She longed to hide from the sea of eyes.
The market place was thronged by a milling crowd. And every one of them seemed to be looking at her, pointing, shouting, making obscene gestures. The thickset man who had whipped Gabriel climbed the punishment platform.
'Stand up,' he ordered. 'You must obey the Public Punisher. Come now. You're no spectacle at all curled up on the floor like that. I have something here that will display your charms to advantage,'
She was made to sit on a shaped wooden block. It was like a sort of rough chair. There was a backrest and two indentations in the seat, set widely apart. The crowd screamed their approval, as the Public Punisher pushed her back against the rest.
'Put your feet here,' he ordered, 'and draw up your knees. Let your thighs fall apart. The crowd wants to see what is so special about a favourite slave,'
Marietta closed her eyes, feeling the hectic colour flood her cheeks. She placed her feet in the marks and felt the metal clamps fold over her wrists and ankles. Opening her legs wide, she drew them up and let them fall apart. She was completely visible. They could all see everything - even the pink lips of her sex and the golden curls that surrounded it. She had never felt so utterly alone, so vulnerable. The feeling was devastating.
'Have you ever seen such a beauty?' the Public Punisher said happily. 'Such breasts, that tiny waist, the swell of her hips. See how soft her thighs are; the skin is the colour of milk mixed with honey. And look here at the garden of delight. Did you ever see yellow hair on a female mound before?'
It was worse than she'd imagined. The crowd seemed like a beast as it surged towards her. The platform shook under their onslaught. The coarse shouts and cries ran in her ears. The thickset man seemed unconcerned by the crowd's fervour. He strode around exchanging jokes with and making comments to those nearest the platform.
He came back to stand before Marietta and lifted her hair, running it through his fingers so that it caught the sun. He turned her face this way and that. Then he cupped her breasts, massaging her nipples roughly until they hardened. The eager faces craned close.
Marietta could distinguish the individual faces of the people pressing close to the platform. Their eyes were wide, their mouths slack as they gazed on her charms. She squeezed her eyes shut, but felt her cheeks pinched hard.
'Open your eyes. Surely you want to see your admirers!'
Marietta cringed inwardly as the man's meaty hand squeezed her thigh then moved inwards. He tweaked her pubic curls, threading them through his thick fingers. She tensed, ready for the intimate touch she knew would follow. When it did, she gave a little moan of distress.
The thick fingers spread her flesh-lips, pinning them wide open. With the other hand he pinched at her bud, drawing it out and rubbing it between his fingers. His fingers were dry but the residue of the grease made his touch bearable. The little bud began to swell as he tweaked and stroked it. Now he spanked it lightly with the tip of one finger. And she could not help her response. Her bud began to throb and grow warm, and, though she could hardly believe it was happening, she felt herself growing moist.
He pulled and probed at her, spreading her bottom-
cheeks to display the tight little mouth that nestled there. He tickled the curls that encircled her anus, pulling at them cruelly so that the little mouth was forced to pout for the crowd.
Marietta blinked back her tears. Gabriel had suffered this and survived. But oh, it was hateful, hateful. Now the Public Punisher was pushing his fingers into her, working them in and out and worse was the fact that her hips were beginning to move. He was gentle, deliberately so. This man was highly trained in drawing out his victims' pleasure, all the more to shame them.
The crowd loved it. In front of all the awful grinning faces, Marietta was becoming aroused - just as Gabriel had done. She could not bear it.
'Stop. Oh, please. Stop . . ,' she begged, her voice a hoarse whisper. Til do anything. I do not want this.'
'Should have thought of that before,' the Public Punisher grinned, hooking two fingers inside her flesh-tube. He drew her up a little, so that she was forced to clench around his knuckles to brace herself. The fingers were buried deeply inside her. She felt him moving them slowly, circling her inner moistness, pressing against the soft inner walls.
'What a pretty morsel we have here then, eh? One of the pampered playthings of the harem. All she has to do is enjoy a life of pleasure and please her master. How many of your daughters crave such a life? But this one's not satisfied with her lot. Oh, no. She wanted to escape!' His voice boomed out over the market place.
The crowd gurgled.
'What shall I do with her?'
Someone shouted. Til have her!'
A great squawk of laughter greeted this comment. The Public Punisher grinned, removing his fingers. He carried his hand to his nose and sniffed deeply, rolling his eyes in appreciation, while those closest whistled and stamped.
'Shame she's not for sale. And she's not to be harmed. But a tickle of the lash wouldn't go amiss. Have you had your fill of looking? Shall I make her dance for you?'
'Yes! Yes!' The sound swelled to a roar. 'Make her dance! Make her pale skin glow!'
Marietta was unfastened and allowed to stand upright. The wooden block was removed. Her wrist bonds were tightened until her arms were drawn out straight. Then her legs were pulled apart and her feet fastened to the wooden posts. She stood spreadeagled between the wooden posts as Gabriel once had stood. The shame, the humiliation of it seemed to crash down on to her. Her tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks.
How could Kasim do this to her? She had been right about him from the start. He was cruel and ruthless -and he cared nothing for her.
The first blow jerked her up straight. It had cracked across both buttocks at once, bringing a rush of heat and pain. The blow felt more like a slap, not the expected stroke of a lash.
'How'd you like that?' the Public Punisher crooned, waving an oblong shaped paddle in the air so that she could see the instrument of her torment. 'It gives a good sound wallop. And the leather makes a lovely noise as it connects. You'll soon be glowing like a cherry and dancing for the crowd.'
And Marietta did indeed begin to squirm. By the third stroke she was pulling against her bonds and twisting her hips in an effort to avoid the stinging slaps. The crowd cheered as each new blow swept across her buttocks. They clapped as she swung her hips, rotating them lewdly, thrusting forward as if to meet a lover's caress.
'Feel her. Is she wet?' Someone in the crowd called out. Hoots of encouragement greeted his question.
The Public Punisher plunged his hand between Marietta's legs and cupped her sex. He pressed the palm of his hand close, so that the flesh-lips pouted down on to it. The touch of the man's hand brought an immediate response. Her swollen bud ticked. She gasped and pulled back, jerking her legs, trying to dislodge the probing hand. It seemed incredible that his unwanted touch could be so welcome, so arousing.<
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When he withdrew his hand he held it up to the crowd.
'Aye. She's wet. Wet enough for pleasuring. Pity it's forbidden.' Groans of disappointment came from the crowd. They had obviously expected to see Marietta used in every way possible.
She could not hide her body's response to the punishment. Like Gabriel before her, she had been stripped naked in every sense of the word. Tears dripped from her chin as she fought the outrush of humiliating pleasure, and failed. She could not help the fact that between her widely parted legs her sex was plump and moist. As her buttocks grew ever more heated, wetness began to trickle down her flesh-lips. Her swollen breasts felt heavy and her erect nipples tingled.
She clamped her lips together on her moans as her buttocks were paddled again and again. There was nothing but the warm pain, spiking through her trembling flesh, heating her, drawing pleasure-pain from the very depths of her soul. She tossed her head and began to sob, uncaring now of the crowd, uncaring of dignity. There was a tight knot of pressure in her belly. Soon, oh, soon, it would dissolve and she would melt in that moment of release that the crowd waited for. The wrist bonds cut into her as she sagged against them. Her parted thighs trembled. She thought she could stand it no longer.
It was some moments before she realised that the paddling had stopped. The crowd was hushed. Silence was thick all around. Gradually she became aware that something had changed. A new tension was evident.
Marietta lifted her head slowly.
Chapter Twelve
Kasim watched Marietta from the shadows at the back of the platform. He was half concealed by the wall of the narrow alley that butted up close to the platform's steps.
He had arrived a short time ago, anticipating the pleasure of watching as Marietta was punished. But he was not enjoying himself as much as he had expected to.
Instead he felt an inexplicable anger as he watched the thickset man using the paddle on her. It was similar to the feeling that had coursed through him when he discovered Marietta and Gabriel together in his carriage.
