‘What misdeeds?’ Gerek croaked, attempting to move in order to ease the pressure of his body weight on his bound hands.
‘Your crimes against women.’ She stepped forward and pushed him back down as he strained to sit up. ‘Only here in Freygard have men found their rightful place in the order of things.’
She trailed the strands of the whip over his sex, then flicked them teasingly against his balls. Gerek winced with discomfort, but the caressing agony was also arousing. He felt nervous sweat pool in his armpits and between his thighs. Never had he felt more helpless, or more vulnerable.
‘You cannot restrain me like this. I am the Protector of Harn,’ he protested.
‘In this room you are nothing more than my slave,’ she said in a soft menacing voice. ‘If you please me, I’ll reward you. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.’ She flicked the ends of the whip across the tender skin of his lower stomach. The stinging agony made his flesh tremble. ‘Does pain arouse you, Gerek?’
‘No,’ he growled as the lash stung his thighs, only just missing his sex.
‘Are you sure?’
She ran the metal-tipped strands slowly across his penis. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she stroked the soft skin of his scrotum with the fiery filaments. Gerek drew in his breath as the pricking pain caught the side of his member, and curved in a sharp caress over the skin protecting the head of his cock. The discomfort was becoming more and more pleasurable. When the lash caught his thighs again, he pressed them tightly together, but that only served to bring his sex into greater prominence.
‘You seem aroused,’ she said softly, as she ran the tip of her finger over his reddened, tender flesh. ‘You want more, don’t you Gerek?’
‘No,’ he groaned, powerless to resist whatever she cared to do to him.
She climbed on to the bed and sat astride his thighs. He felt the soft curls of her pubis rub enticingly against his bare legs. By the gods, he wanted her so much. She ran her tongue over her full lower lip, then lifted her hand to tug teasingly at the left nipple clamps. Gerek longed to pull one of those imprisoned teats into his mouth and suck on it hard.
‘How does it feel to know you’re a prisoner?’ she mocked. ‘You fear me, don’t you, slave?’
‘I fear no one,’ he grated, feeling her fingers gently stroke the soft skin of his scrotum.
She touched his penis, gauging its stiffness. ‘Not very impressive,’ she said with derision. ‘You’re barely hard.’ Gripping the stem, she pumped it crudely. ‘I want proof of your virility, slave.’
Gerek could not repress a groan as she roughly pulled back the collar of skin to expose the taut purple bulb hidden beneath. She dragged the metal ends of the whip slowly over the exposed head, gently tapping the sensitive tip. ‘Please,’ Gerek begged, fearing she might hit it harder.
‘Address me as mistress.’ Her eyes glittered cruelly behind the silver mask.
‘You’re not my mistress,’ he replied with obstinate determination, readying himself to endure unimaginable pain.
‘You’re too proud and stubborn for a slave,’ she said coldly.
His tormentor moved to sit astride his hips, pressing the slit of her sex against his stomach. Gerek drew in his breath as the tip of his engorged penis pressed against her firm buttocks, while the heavy weight of her chained skirt fell across his sex. Grabbing hold of his shoulders, she pulled him upright so swiftly that the chain holding him stretched taut and the leather collar cut into his neck. At his strangled gasp, she released the pressure enough to let him draw breath.
‘The collar is uncomfortable, isn’t it?’ she mocked, pushing her body closer to his. At that moment Gerek bent his head, heedless of the leather biting into his throat, and grabbed hold of the hanging chains of the nipple clamp with his teeth. He pulled the clamp away from her nipple with a rough jerk, and spat the object from his mouth. Her moan of discomfort was stifled by a gasp of surprise, as Gerek locked his lips around the abused teat. Sucking hard he pulled it deep into his mouth.
‘Greedy and disobedient,’ she murmured, as he sucked and licked her breast. She slid her arms around him and pressed herself closer as he pulled more of her soft flesh into his mouth.
She was flushed and breathing heavily by the time she pulled away from him. Gerek smiled, watching with perverse satisfaction as she eased her body backward. When she crouched over his sex, he could see the soft sheen of moisture now coating her labial lips.
‘Is my cock hard enough for you now?’ he asked boldly as she curved her hand around the base of his penis, gauging his readiness.
‘No, not quite!’ Picking up the nipple clamp, she fastened it around one of his brown teats. Gerek winced as it bit into the sensitive nubbin, but he found the pressure arousing. ‘Now it should be,’ she added, pushing him back against the pillows.
She lowered herself until she was fully transfixed by his rigid flesh. Gerek suppressed a groan of pleasure as she ground her vulva against his pelvis. The hot tightness of her vagina was exquisite. Her inner muscles firmly gripped his shaft as she began to move herself up and down on his cock, intent only on her own release.
With cruel deliberation, she rode Gerek hard and fast. With each vigorous thrust, Gerek’s bound hands dug uncomfortably into the small of his back, but that only served to increase his arousal. As her pleasure mounted, she arched her body and threw her head back, exposing her pale throat.
The myriad of conflicting sensations were drawing Gerek towards lustful fulfilment. He heard her give a faint gasp as her vagina pulsed and her inner muscles contracted around his shaft. Gerek’s helpless desire began to peak, drawing him deep into the dark whirlpool of passion as the rippling bliss consumed him.
She fell forward, half supporting herself with her arms, and she took a deep, gasping breath. Her limbs were still trembling in the aftermath of her violent climax as she looked down at Gerek.
He smiled. ‘Did I please you, mistress?’ he asked in voice laced with sarcasm.
‘Your behaviour does not wholly please me. You’re way too bold, way too defiant.’ To his surprise, she pressed her lips to his for a brief, almost affectionate, kiss. ‘Far too bold,’ she said tenderly. Swiftly she recovered her composure. Pulling the clamp from his nipple, she tossed it aside. ‘Now you can cleanse me,’ she said curtly, moving forward so that her damp pudenda was just above his face. ‘Lick it clean.’
Gerek could smell the musky scent of her sex, mixed with the lusty odour of his own semen. ‘No, I will not,’ he said angrily. He could see the moist secretions coating her vulva, and he was so very tempted to do as she ordered. But her demands made him feel abused and degraded.
She lowered her body until her open sex was only a hair’s-breadth from Gerek’s face. Lustful desire consumed him. He felt humiliated, yet aroused. He began to appreciate how it must feel to be a slave. The overwhelming sensation of submissive need was far too powerful to ignore.
He began to lap at her moist sex, savouring the mingling essence of their desires. It acted on his senses, like strong wine. He became drunk with passion as his head spun. Despite his determination not be subjugated, he revelled in the sensations of vulnerability and helplessness she aroused in him. Tenderly twining his tongue around her hot little pleasure bud, he teased it until he felt it stiffen and harden into a perfect pink pearl. She lowered her body just a fraction, so that he could imprison the bud with his lips and draw it deeper into his mouth. Her sex was hot, the pearl throbbing. Grabbing hold of his shoulders, she pressed her soaking vulva to his face. He felt her flesh pulse against his mouth and she shivered as her release came in a sudden rush of unexpected pleasure.
She pulled away from him and crouched on the bed, staring at him through the impenetrable barrier of her silver mask. Very cautiously, she touched his cheek, running her fingers over the hard planes of his face. Gerek was filled with a sudden, quite unexpected sensation. A feeling of knowing, intimacy, oneness that he’d not experienced for a very long ti
me. He took a deep, troubled breath as it grew in strength.
‘You did not follow orders, slave,’ her voice shook as she spoke.
‘Did I not?’ he challenged. ‘You wanted me to pleasure you, that was obvious. Yet you would have me believe you hate all men.’
‘I do,’ she said with vicious fury. ‘They are ruled by their basest instincts. They care for no one but themselves. They take what they want and then throw you aside. Only here, in Freygard, are they properly controlled.’
‘I fear you were hurt badly by someone,’ Gerek said gently, trying to disregard the strange feelings that would not go away. This woman reminded him so strongly of Kitara, it was frightening.
‘Their affections do not withstand the test of time. Love and sex are the same to them. Unlike women, they are incapable of deep feeling,’ she sneered.
‘Not all men are like that,’ he protested. ‘You see only two kinds. Your slaves, and brutal strangers who prowl the borders of your land. You’re wrong, mistress, so very wrong.’
Gerek couldn’t understand why he felt the need to convince her she was mistaken. He doubted it would make any difference to her attitude towards him. He knew he was at present her captive, but he did not fear slavery. His people would offer a generous ransom for his safe return and Queen Danara was bound to accept the offer. She was well aware her army could never resist the combined might of Percheron and Harn.
‘You lie, Gerek, just as you always have.’ The timbre of her voice had changed. Gerek knew what he was hearing, yet he still did not wholly believe it. The pain squeezed his heart and he shook with the strength of his emotion.
‘Who are you?’ he asked haltingly. ‘Kitara’s sister? Cousin? You sound so like her, feel so like her.’ She stared at him, saying nothing. ‘Tell me, I must know,’ he pleaded. ‘I’ve suffered so much anguish, so much pain,’ he faltered, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. ‘I sometimes wish . . . even though I know it impossible.’
‘What do you wish, Gerek?’ He opened his eyes as he felt her unfasten the collar from his neck. ‘Tell me,’ she added as he struggled to sit up.
‘I wish Kitara wasn’t dead. That I could somehow bring her back.’ His voice was wracked with anguish. ‘After she was washed away in the flooded river, I searched for days, looking for her body. I needed to see her one last time, to say goodbye. But the gods did not even permit me that one small favour. Tell me who you are, how you come to be so like her?’
‘Who exactly do you want me to be?’ she asked gently.
Gerek sadly shook his head, staring at her in surprise as she began to unfasten his bonds. Gingerly he eased his stiff arms forward and rubbed his sore wrists. ‘I want you to be Kitara,’ he said pleadingly. ‘But I know that’s impossible.’ He stared at her, trying to see behind the mask.
‘Why not?’ she asked. ‘Why can’t I be Kitara?’
‘Because she’s dead. My soldiers and I searched far and wide and never found her.’ Tears spilled from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. ‘This is all in my imagination, some bizarre dream.’ He touched the red lash marks on his thighs, and gave an uneasy laugh. ‘But these still hurt, so I can’t be dreaming. You look like her, smell like her, even feel like her. And you have her wild ways.’
‘Gerek,’ she said softly, as she tenderly kissed his lips.
‘Are you real?’
‘Yes.’ She pulled off her mask, and he saw her beloved face once again. Feeling confused and totally bewildered, Gerek watched a lone tear slide slowly down her cheek. ‘I’m told I was pulled from the river many miles downstream and cared for by peasants, but I have no memory of that time. A travelling warrior from Freygard came upon me and brought me home. When at last I did remember, I was led to believe that you’d deserted me, that you no longer wanted me as your wife. Many months had passed by then, and when you never came for me, I was forced to accept that what my sisters told me was true. Then I heard you were to remarry.’
‘Remarry!’ Gerek exclaimed. ‘That was none of my doing. My advisors wanted me to marry again, but I rejected every woman they brought to me. All I wanted was you back, Kitara, but I thought you dead.’ He held her face between his hands and looked deep into her eyes. ‘I love you, Kitara, I always have.’
Gerek pulled her close, and kissed her with unrestrained passion. Gently, he eased the cruel clamp from her nipple and began to unlace the tight leather corset. As he drew it from her body, he tenderly stroked the livid red marks the restrictive garment left on her ivory skin.
‘You are my life,’ he murmured, kissing her again, wanting her forever imprinted on his mind.
They lay together, flesh to flesh. He pressed his hard shaft against the entrance to her soft sheath, and slid inside her, feeling a joy that knew no bounds. She twined her legs around his hips as he began to thrust into her, possessing her with such intensity that it left no doubt of his love for her. The scent of Kitara incited his senses; her beautiful flesh was made purely so that it could meld with his, and by doing so they could become as one. Now Gerek felt his life had purpose again.
Their pleasure peaked swiftly, as love and passion combined. Kitara’s vagina contracted around his shaft and the rippling waves brought him to the ultimate peak of bliss. As Gerek’s climax consumed him, he held Kitara close, never wanting to be parted from her again.
‘Rianna,’ Danara said, gently shaking Rianna awake. ‘I’ve something to show you.’
Sleepily, Rianna rubbed her eyes. ‘It’s barely dawn,’ she mumbled, climbing from the bed and shivering in the chill morning air.
‘Here.’ Danara wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and led her towards the window. ‘You cannot miss this.’
Rianna felt incredibly weary. Last night, after Danara had entertained Lord Sarin and his men, she had come to Rianna’s room and spent a long time talking to her. Wanting to rid herself of the painful memories, Rianna had opened her heart to Danara. Everything had spilled from her mouth; the sensual demands Sarin had made on her flesh, the cruel ways he’d abused Tarn. Danara had appeared horrified, more by the way Sarin had treated Rianna than Tarn. She had promised Rianna she would have her revenge on Cador and Lord Sarin, although Rianna could not conceive how.
‘Can you see which one he is?’ Danara asked.
‘Who do you mean?’ Below her window was a wagon into which a number of number of slaves, chained hand and foot, were being loaded.
‘Look closely at the brown-haired slave.’ Danara smiled smugly.
‘It is Cador!’ Rianna gasped. She saw a frightened and confused Cador being pushed towards the wagon. When he tried to resist, he was beaten with a thin cane and bundled on to the floor of the wagon. ‘Where are they taking him?’ she asked, as the wagon moved slowly out of the gates.
‘To a large town some distance from here, where a monthly slave auction is held. I’ve issued strict instructions. Cador is to be sold as a field hand. He will endure enforced hard labour for the rest of his miserable life.’
‘What about the others?’ Rianna asked. ‘Lord Sarin and his soldiers?’ She was still unaware that her father, Gerek, was also in the castle.
‘I confess I couldn’t resist taking hostage a number of the strongest and most well-favoured soldiers. They accompany Cador to the slave auction, although I think their fate will be kinder. Most will probably be purchased as coupling slaves. The rest of the soldiers left the castle some time before dawn. Believing they are under orders from Sarin, they are in pursuit of the fugitives. A number of my warriors accompanied them. They will endure a few uncomfortable days in the mountains before being led back to Percheron by a different route.’
‘And Sarin?’ Rianna pressed, realising uneasily that she barely knew Danara at all. She had never expected any of this.
‘I intend to keep him here as my personal slave, and give him a taste of the pain and misery he has dealt out to so many others,’ Danara smiled cruelly. ‘I’m looking forward to the challenge. He was so proud and arrog
ant last night. To see him cowering naked at my feet will be most invigorating.’ She took Rianna’s arm and led her back to the bed. ‘Sleep a while longer, we can talk more later.’
‘I cannot sleep now. If Sarin and his soldiers are no longer a threat, I’d like to see Tarn.’
Danara frowned and shook her head. ‘That would not be convenient. Tarn is required elsewhere at present.’
‘Doing what?’ Rianna queried.
Danara smiled. ‘You recall, you promised me that if I helped you escape Sarin’s clutches, you would stay here with me. Tarn can never be anything but a slave in Freygard. So I’ve assigned him to the position he is best suited for. He will spend his days in the coupling chambers. At present he’s most probably servicing one of my warriors.’
The colour drained from Rianna’s face. ‘You cannot do this . . .’
‘I can, and I have,’ Danara replied, unconcerned by Rianna’s distress. ‘Tarn’s seed will provide my women with many fine offspring. The seed of our slaves has grown weak of late.’
‘I will not remain here with you if you force Tarn to endure slavery. I’ll leave,’ Rianna threatened, suddenly realising that there was no sign of her clothes.
‘I was not entirely sure you’d keep your promise.’ Danara narrowed her eyes and stared at Rianna. ‘So I took the precaution of removing all your garments to allow you time to consider your position. Remember, Rianna, I am the Queen and you will do as I say. You may be interested to know that Tarn does not appear unhappy with his new position. The warriors he has serviced so far seem very satisfied. He’ll be in great demand.’
‘How can you cause me so much pain, Danara?’ Rianna asked unhappily. ‘We are kin.’
‘And you are too trusting of others, Rianna.’ Danara moved to the door, but before she could leave, another woman entered the room. ‘Cousin,’ Danara said uneasily, ‘I understood you were leaving.’
‘I was,’ Kitara said coldly. ‘Until I discovered how much you’d deceived me.’ She swept past Danara, then paused uncertainly as she caught sight of Rianna.
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