Tesra winced, knowing the man would sink his own ship in a heartbeat.
‘I am Marcellus,’ he said with predictable bombast. ‘King of pirates. Scourge of the seas. Sworn enemy of the dragar and all who sail beneath his flag.’
‘I see,’ the governor mused. ‘Well at least we know where the man stands, don’t we?’ There was dry laughter from among the courtiers, and at this point one of the bobbing, feathered fops bent low to his ear. A second, not wanting to be left out, followed suit upon the other ear. The governor nodded, and one of the men immediately departed out the back door of the chamber.
‘And what of you two?’ He indicated the remaining pirates. ‘To whose camp do you belong? The one man navy or the sniveling traitor?’
Rodrigo stiffened, opening his mouth to protest, but a sword pressed to his neck discouraged him.
‘I serve Marcellus,’ said the one proudly. ‘If he will have me.’
‘I, too,’ said the other.
‘Both these men,’ vouched Marcellus to the governor, ‘are mine.’
‘Well, well, your kingdom seems to be growing. From one to three. Perhaps the empire needs tremble yet. What of the last member of your party, though? Am I to assume she is your queen?’
‘Not a queen, excellency,’ Tesra spoke for herself, ‘but a daughter of Persistrata, a daughter of the sisterhood, born under divine sign.’
The governor pursed his lips. ‘I should have guessed. And I suppose you, too, are intent on overthrowing our empire?’
‘No, sir,’ she clasped Marcellus’ hand, against the man’s will, ‘I seek to go home. I seek for us all to go home.’
‘I have no home,’ Marcellus rejected her, ‘but the sea.’
‘Oh, I think we can remedy that,’ he grunted, expelling himself at last in the slave girl’s mouth. ‘As it so happens I have lots of space in my dungeon.’
She continued to lick him till he dismissed her, allowing her to crawl on hands and knees to a water dish beside the throne. Happily she lapped at it, the sheer servility of it making Tesra tense and wet.
Rodrigo meanwhile was grimacing, holding back as long as he could against the devilish little tongue. To orgasm like this, in front of enemies would, she gathered, be itself an act of shame.
‘I will not be going to your dungeon,’ defied Marcellus, once again showing monumental imprudence.
‘Oh? And why exactly is that?’
‘I am too important for you. The dragar himself will deal with me, and even he will want me dead, not merely imprisoned.’
The hall was tense and silent, and Tesra did not think many who spoke this way to the impetuous governor lived to tell the tale.
‘My dear friend,’ he laughed, seemingly genuinely amused behind his cold and clever eyes, ‘do you not see that you have just signed your death warrant?’
She had not intended to intercede on his behalf, certainly not to rush forward, falling on her face before the dais. Nevertheless, this is where she found herself a few moments later. ‘Spare him!’ she begged. ‘Kill me instead.’
The guards lifted her like a rag doll.
‘Excellency?’ enquired the captain holding the short stabbing blade to her throat.
‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘not just yet. I should like to amuse myself a bit first. Girl, you say that you would trade your life for the pirate’s?’
‘Willingly, sir.’
‘And what of your honor?’
‘She has none,’ blurted Rodrigo. ‘She is the whore of Marcellus, worse than a slave.’
The governor snapped his fingers, signaling to the captain, who in turn removed the sucking slut from Rodrigo. The man was visibly relieved at first, but he quickly saw that he had jumped from the frying pan into the fire.
‘Hand him your knife,’ said the governor to the guard captain, and the soldier placed the pearl-handled dagger in the very reluctant hand of Rodrigo.
‘Kill yourself,’ said the governor, as though he had ordered him merely to lace up a pair of boots.
Rodrigo snorted, the sound masking panicked laughter. ‘You can’t be serious.’
The governor shrugged, lacing his fingers on his formidable lap. ‘You are a servant of his Imperial Highness, are you not? You said so yourself. What better way to serve him than by eliminating, personally, a notorious pirate?’
The knife clanked to the marble floor. ‘Excellency, I have held up my end of the bargain. I was promised gold, and a position high in the admiralty.’
‘And you will have both,’ said the governor. ‘The gold I shall place in your coffin personally. As for height, I shall see to it your bones are bleached in the sunlight, upon the highest mountain I can find.’
Rodrigo let the words sink in, his lip tremoring. ‘You have betrayed me,’ he accused. ‘You will face the justice of the gods.’
‘Happily,’ he laughed, ‘will I face the penalty for removing the likes of you from this world.’
Rodrigo made it all of two steps before the guards cut him down. Tesra did not turn to look, not even when the red blood seeped across the floor and between her feet.
‘Now,’ the governor announced more cheerily, ‘to the entertainment. You, young goddess, step forward.’ Tesra did so, the sarcasm hardly lost on her. ‘You will lie upon this very floor,’ he indicated, ‘spreading your legs for whichever man wishes to have you. If you endure all takers, then I will not put your pirate king to death.’
Now it was Marcellus’ turn to speak. ‘Do not do this, Tesra. He hasn’t the power to kill me; he is only playing with you.’
The nymph regarded the bloodthirsty governor and his soldiers. Perhaps Marcellus was right, but who knew? There was much to consider, not least of which was the general shame of behaving before all these fine ladies and gentlemen in a way that would mark her inarguably as a whore. The lowest sort of bitch, really, for unlike a slave she could not even claim that she was being forced. It should be a horrible thing to contemplate, but something about this idea, that she was voluntarily relegating herself to such a place - and in full witness of the handsome pirate who had been so thoroughly ignoring her - aroused her beyond belief.
Marcellus would be enraged. Marcellus would feel helpless. Marcellus would be jealous.
‘I will do it,’ she decided, ‘for my own reasons.’
Her pussy was wet, the lips slick and ready. All in the audience chamber could see, too, the way her nipples were stiff, how her face was flush and her breathing heavy. No longer a proud daughter of Persistrata, she was a creature of men now, a needful slut, begging for the touch of the roughest man, longing to be filled with hot, hard cock, and yes, to be abused as well. What would they do with her? Would they be allowed to whip her? Would someone turn her over and beat her arse to more fully open her?
Tesra lowered herself to the ice-cold marble. It would be her body alone shielding that of her lovers, keeping them from the floor. If lovers was the right word for men who would come inside her with no regard for her feelings, her thoughts or even her name. This is what slaves did, humbling themselves, reducing themselves to naked pleasure objects at the disposal of clothed men, and even women who may or may not offer them kindness or any form of human regard.
Tesra thought of the slaves she knew. Drusia and Vorra and now Ameliadora, and how they would live this way all the rest of their days. And these girls in the palace, and the thousands, maybe millions who were owned by men in every corner of the world. For Tesra it was a choice, a dark one, but still a choice. She could take it back. She could rise to her feet. But not for the rest of them.
The first of the soldiers was the captain. Without bothering to look her in the eye he knelt between her legs, opened his heavy breeches and pulled forth his spear. He claimed her with military precision as though ravishing wenches on the governor’s floor were part of
his duties. For all she knew it was. His cock felt good; it had been too long for Tesra. Most of the time now she burned, just as Serena burned, or used to burn before she was enslaved and given to the governor’s soldiers. Was she suffering and moaning and coming right now in the barracks, her naked body preyed upon by whips and cocks and rough, uncaring hands?
Tesra felt a bite of envy, knowing things would remain ever more restrained here in the court. The captain grit his teeth, concentrating. Tesra tried to breathe. The man’s burnished chest armor was heavy and hard on her skin. It made her feel that much more a slut, to be so sandwiched between metal and marble. The fact that he didn’t bother to undress only made it worse - or better. She pictured his cock as a snake, uncoiling inside of her, despoiling her, tainting her in the presence of all these witnesses, all these tightly repressed, carefully bound men and women who, if released from their inhibitions, would be doing exactly as she was.
How strange were these people of the outside world. On the Isle of Dreams there was no sex because it was unknown, hidden. Here it was well known and yet, as near as she could tell, masters and slaves only engaged in the practice - on pirate ships and barracks and marble floors. With a grunt the officer relieved himself efficiently, then rose, ceding his place to another.
This man was a sergeant, a burly man with wild red eyes. His teeth flashed like a wolf’s as he took up his place. Steadying himself by means of his hands pressed down on her exposed breasts, he jammed his way to the hilt. His cock was long and hard and at the first feel of it she began to orgasm. The sergeant sniggered wickedly, enjoying his power over her. Drool ran from his lips onto her chest, the act of degradation only serving to turn him on that much more. Aggressively he shunted himself in and out and she rode with him, unable to resist, unable to avoid responding, even as poorly as he was treating her.
‘Good girl.’ He patted her head when he was done, as if she were little better than a dog.
The next man, a corporal, wasted no time positioning his ass on her breasts to plant his crotch on her face. ‘Do me slow, bitch,’ he warned, ‘or I’ll slice you wide open.’ Tesra obeyed, imitating what she had seen the other slaves do, delicately pleasing the man’s dick to build his anticipation. ‘Yeah, that’s it,’ he encouraged, flapping his enormous penis over her tongue. ‘Come on, slut.’
When he was tired of her teasing he grabbed her head and positioned her to take him deep. She thought she might gag, but as he pushed himself deeper she found herself absorbing all of him. The corporal used her mouth like a vagina, but when it came time to climax he withdrew, ejaculating on her face and breasts. The spray was warm and sticky. She thought of all the lords and ladies watching, thinking how she really was nothing but a little slave, worthy to be trotted off to the barracks with Serena.
There were three more after this; each, she noted, of declining rank.
‘Any others?’ the governor wanted to know after the last of these was done with her. Tesra lay there, the semen dripping back out of her overfull cunt, caking the fine hairs of her vaginal fleece, and she did not know if she should be relieved or insulted there were not more takers. ‘Sorry, my dear, the slaves are ever so much more popular.’ He summoned her back to her feet.
‘But you will spare Marcellus now?’
‘I shall not seek to shorten his life, if that’s what you mean. I should point out, though, that your self-styled king was right all along; it is not actually in my power to end his life. It seems the two of you are destined to sail to the capital, by order of his imperial highness. Congratulations. I myself have been seeking an audience with the emperor for three years now, unsuccessfully. Take them away,’ he commanded.
‘Separate cells?’ enquired the captain.
The governor thought for a minute. ‘No, together, I think. Let them have a little fun on their last night together. And to make it a little more interesting, shackle the pirate in some compromising position. We shall see by morning what has arisen.’
There was laughter throughout the assembly. As the governor stood, signaling the end of the session, applause followed, indicating that his brand of justice was, if not legally sound, at least entertaining.
Tesra bowed with the others as he passed, ahead of his courtiers. Already her mind was hard at work, thinking of ways to take advantage of a shackled man. A delicious chill passed down her spine. They may not know what tomorrow would bring, but till then the world was their oyster.
Marcellus was stretched painfully, his wrists and ankles pinched cruelly in the Talassian metal, his back already bitten by the rough stone floor of the Talassian dungeon. The cruelty of the accommodation, of course, were to be expected, as was the governor’s little joke, allowing him a last night with the nymph but at the same time depriving him of the freedom of movement to enjoy her.
It had been so long since he’d been able to make use of her or any other female, but the choice was not his. Once the goddess Persistrata had touched him, back on the ship, he’d been required to remain pure and focused on his objective. It had never occurred to him that his one selfish little prayer could so unhinge the power of the world.
In asking to steal from the dragar that which the man most valued, he had unwittingly made himself a tool in a struggle for divine supremacy. Dragar Teradon it seemed, had pretensions of godhood, based on the legacy of the founding of the original City of Talas by the god Talar. He was now seeking to consolidate that power with every means at his disposal, including the use of witches and seers to attack the other royal personages.
The ring made of ruby was to have been one such avenue. By its use the emperor had intended to find the Isle of Dreams for himself. Whereas Marcellus had settled upon one lovely nymph, the dragar planned to enslave the whole of the sisterhood, engaging their powers against both Persistrata and Nephisis both. The only place the ring was safe was in the underworld. The bird was a courier of that place, and the volcano on which they’d stood was the one place on earth where the underworld creatures could emerge at the gods’ behest.
The dragar’s soldiers had intercepted them too late. He had accomplished his mission and now, no matter what they did to him, the emperor would never find the island.
Unless, of course, he managed to find out through Tesra, which meant that her life was very much in danger. This was the one thing that concerned him, and as he lay in chains, ready to die, he could think only of her future.
Even more pressing, though, was the girl’s present. At the moment she was in the corner of the cell, curled up, sobbing like a child. He’d hurt her feelings again. She wanted to make love and he’d rebuffed her. Even if he wished he could not begin to explain to her now why it was so crucial for her to keep away from him.
Marcellus thought of his own words, which might one day soon come back to haunt him. We are toys, he’d said, in the hands of the gods. But which gods controlled and for how long?
‘Tesra, it will do you no good to make a scene like that all night. I am resolved.’
‘You do not care for me at all,’ said the woman, employing no form of reason he could understand. ‘You never have. I am ugly to you and stupid.’
‘This is not about caring, Tesra. I must keep my mind sharp, to communicate with the goddess.’
‘But I need you. Like Serena needed her husband... her master.’
‘I am neither to you, girl, nor would I be any good at either of them.’
‘You would to me. Sir, let me give you pleasure. Your body may be shackled but I can free your spirit. Let me do that, my lord, let me pleasure you.’
Tesra was crawling towards him, a look of mayhem in her eye. What a tawny little thing she was, with her golden hair luxuriant to the shoulders of her shapely body. So innocent behind those blue eyes, like a babe, and yet how wanton had been her responses to his possession of her flesh. ‘Do not touch me,’ he warned sternly, ‘o
r you will be...’
‘Will be what, sir?’ said the minx softly, trailing her hair over his lips.
‘Punished,’ said he, though for the life of him he had no idea how.
Her kiss was like fire, like an itch at once created and scratched. He could hold out no longer, not after this much time. Forgive me, Persistrata, I must turn from you this one time.
‘I do not wish to displease you, my lord,’ she whispered humbly.
‘Indeed, you do not,’ he replied sternly. ‘Which is why you will submit to my voice, as though to iron.’
‘Yes.’ She lowered her lips to his once more. ‘That way it will really be you who is free and I who am bound.’
‘Sit up,’ he ordered, ‘slave girl.’
‘Yes, master.’ She shivered, for tonight that is what she was.
‘Put your hair back; show me your breasts. Good. The nipples, they are not hard enough. Pinch them.’
She obeyed, tentatively pressing them between thumb and forefinger.
‘Harder.’ Much harder, in fact, is what he needed. Correction and discipline for the wench, that is what he wanted. Tesra winced at the pain. ‘Touch your tummy. Is it warm? Fine, now slide your hand lower. Yes, lower still, good.’ She was moaning already. Clearly she was his property despite her supposed freedom. ‘Between your legs, tell me how wet you are.’
‘Like a fountain, master.’
‘You enjoyed having all those cocks in you today, didn’t you? Your naked body used like that of any slut?’
‘I did it for you,’ she breathed.
‘Left nipple,’ he commanded abruptly, ‘twist it until you scream.’
Tesra abused herself according to his orders. The fact of her conformity to his will made her hot and him hard as a rock. She arched her back, unleashing the desired cry of pain, a plaintive female wail that carried to the high rock ceiling of their dimly lit abyss.
‘Enough.’
She collapsed back on her heels, catching her breath.
‘Lick the sweat from my body, slave girl, every inch of it.’
Dream Captive Page 19
