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  • A Slave's Journey Begins Ch. 09

A Slave's Journey Begins Ch. 09

12

Tara felt herself falling from a great height, the ropes that bound her giving way and tightening at the same time. She was suffocating, being torn limb from limb, all the while plummeting downwards, faster and faster towards certain death.

"Tara, stop it!" Tara sat up in her bed, jolted from her nightmare by the sound of Siara's voice. "You were... talking in your sleep."

"Screaming in her sleep, you mean," she heard Katya mutter.

"Anyway, it was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep now, you'll feel better in the morning."

"Did you?" asked Katya.

"I don't know what you mean," Siara replied.

"You know exactly what I mean," Katya hissed. "There's a word for what Thomas did to her. And for what Liam did to you."

"I don't want to talk about this! Now please, everyone go back to sleep," but Tara could hear Siara's voice breaking and then her muffled tears.

In a shaft of moonlight, Tara could just make out the shape of Katya's naked body slipping out of her own bed and into bed with Siara. She could hear them whispering under the sheets, but couldn't make out what they were saying. She knew Siara had stopped crying and could hear only their heavy breathing as she lay back down and closed her eyes. She heard a sigh, followed by a moan, then the sound of the bed springs creaking as the two slaves moved together in the darkness.

Tara woke in the morning cold and alone, hurting on the inside and outside alike. She longed for her mother's shawl, but they had taken it from her, just like they had taken everything else. Even my body is not my own, Tara thought, if it ever was to begin with. Pulling her sheet from the bed, Tara wrapped herself in it and made her way to the small kitchen in the slaves' quarters. There, she was greeted by much the same scene as the previous morning, except Siara was also at the table, along with Katya and their two guest slaves. As she had before, Katya was once again the first to see Tara in the doorway, but this time, she said nothing. Tara shuffled to the long table and took a seat, breathing through the pain that blossomed anew from her abused ass.

An awkward silence settled over the room until Leanna broke it with, "Siara, get the girl something to eat."

Siara jumped from her seat and within a few minutes, placed a cup of tea and plate of buttered scones in front of Tara.

"I'm not hungry," Tara whispered.

"It doesn't matter if you're hungry or not," Leanna said. "You must eat."

Tara felt something rising inside her that was neither shame, nor desire, nor fear. She was angry.

"And if I won't?" she asked, looking up at the Slave Mistress.

"If the Young Master makes it worth his time - and I hope for your sake that he does not - you will eat, one way or another." The unspoken threat in Mistress Leanna's words was clear and Tara slowly picked up a scone and began to eat. Taking a sip of her own tea, Leanna continued, "What is more likely, is that the Young Master will find you unworthy of the collar of this house and you will be sold. I know you may think that sounds just fine right now but believe me, there are far worse things, cruelties you cannot imagine, outside of these walls. The collar you wear protects you - "

"Protects me!" Tara exclaimed. "How can it protect me when it gives everyone from my Master, to his Stewards, to his Stable Boys permission to do with me as they please? To punish me, mark my body, even to kill me? It's not right, Mistress!"

"Be careful, Tara. Talk like that will get you a beating and a night in the stocks," Katya's words were directed at Tara, but it was Leanna she was glaring at.

"Enough!" Leanna said, holding her arms up for silence. To their guests she said, "Your Master has lent you for service in our main kitchen today so both those pretty mouths will be in top form for the Banquet tomorrow. You won't be needing your robes down there, so you can take them off and go prepare yourselves."

The girls immediately shed their robes amid a chorus of "Yes Mistress" and were quick to disappear, glad to escape the tension in the room.

"As for you," Leanna said, turning her attention to Katya and Siara. "Don't think I don't know what you've been up to. You reek of each other's sex! Her I might have expected this of, but you Siara, you should have known better." Katya folded her arms and looked away. Siara bowed her head in shame. "Katya, take Tara to the bathing room and help her prepare for today's training, then make sure a room is ready for when the Stewards arrive."

"Why do I have to - " Katya began, but the look she got from Leanna made her swallow her words. She stood in a huff and grabbing Tara's hand, yanked her up from the table and fairly dragged her out of the room.

With everyone gone, Siara came to her knees at Mistress Leanna's feet. "I'm sorry, Mistress," she said. "I know what we did last night was wrong and it won't happen again. I have no excuse and I accept whatever punishment you choose."

Leanna stroked the girl's silky hair and replied, "It's not I who will choose your punishment, my dear. Sir Liam is waiting for you in the Training Room.

**********************

Siara paused outside the Training Room door and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. There's no reason to feel this way, she reasoned with herself. She knew Liam. She had watched him grow from an awkward boy to a skilled young man and she loved the cat-like grace with which he moved when the flogger guided his hand. His ability to inflict pain that felt like pleasure and pleasure that burned like pain never failed to amaze her, and although she enjoyed serving many of the Young Master's guests, her most powerful orgasms had always been at Liam's hands. His desire for her was clear, she could feel it every time he looked at her, spoke to her, graced her skin with his beautiful markings. And yet, he refused to fuck her, except for that one night in the woods... It was confusing and frustrating and Siara didn't know what she was doing wrong.

Liam paced the Training Room with agitated steps. The Young Master wanted all his slaves marked for the Banquet, that was the only reason he was here. He would do it quickly and get out. He would concentrate only on his work and maybe, just maybe, he could escape this encounter with Siara without feeling the familiar weight of his guilt and his love all wrapped up together, crushing his heart until he could no longer look at her and breathe.

He heard the expected knock at the door and barked, "Enter."

Siara entered the Training Room, naked other than the collar around her neck. Her long hair had been braided and pinned in tight coils on her head, leaving her body fully exposed to him.

She knelt, the position second nature to her, and said," Sir Liam, I present myself for punishment."

Liam already had the cane in his hands, but paused at the slave's words. "Punishment for what?"

"For the offense of dishonouring my Master by... using my own body and the body of another for our own pleasure and release, Sir."

LIam closed his eyes and let the image of Katya and Siara's naked bodies entwining, soft and wet and open, fill his imagination. When he opened them, his cock was rock hard in his pants and his earlier resolve to mark her and be done with it was quickly fading. Now he wanted to take his time.

Liam thought for a moment. Siara didn't make mistakes often and the opportunity to punish her was rare. But what would have the greatest effect? She was extremely flexible, melting into even the strictest bondage; her pain tolerance was high; her reactions constructed to provide her tormentor with the greatest satisfaction. There was only one way he knew to push her over the edge. Hooking his fingers through the ring on her collar, he led her on her knees to the A-frame and pulled her up so that she stood in front of him, almost as tall as he even in her bare feet. She kept her eyes respectfully downcast, but he knew her body well enough to know that her heart was beating faster as she tried to anticipate what was coming next. The rope was already attached to rings in the wood and raising her arms above her head, Liam tied her hands together and then secured them to the top of the frame. He desperately wanted to run his hands along her outstretched arms, down to the curve of her breasts, and then further down still, over the rise of her hips and between her thighs. Instead, he let his hands drop to his sides, although his face remained close to hers. "Open," he said.

Siara spread her legs wide apart so that they lined up with the bottom of the frame and Liam secured her ankles in the same manner as her wrists. He took a step back and looked at her. From the front, the scars he had inflicted weren't visible. She was beyond beautiful. She was everything.

He turned and walked to the wall, looking over the many different tools at his disposal. He chose a soft-tailed flogger and brought it back to where Siara was bound, holding it up for her to see. Liam wasn't surprised to see the corners of her mouth rise slightly and her eyes light up. He began working her over with easy flicks of the flogger, from her shoulders to her breasts, her ribcage and belly, all the way down her legs and back up again. Siara's tanned skin didn't show use as easily as some other slaves, but when he was done, Liam knew her body would be humming all over, awake and ready for the next round.

Siara let the familiar and welcome sensation of the soft leather tails hitting her skin wash over her. This couldn't be the punishment, Liam knew her too well for that, but she enjoyed the chance to get warmed up for whatever was coming next.

"Thank you, Sir," she said, when she felt a break in his rhythm. Her emerald eyes met his clear blue ones and even as she willed herself to bow her head as she ought to, she found she could not look away.

Liam put the flogger down on the ground next to the cane and approached the frame. He let his eyes do what his hands could not, taking in every inch of the slave's body, until he was on his knees in front of her, his head level with her smooth pussy. Liam inhaled deeply, the scent of her intoxicating, and then pushed his face into her folds.

Siara exhaled and let her head fall back as Liam's warm breath filled her wet cunt. Out of all the things he could have done to her, she had not expected this. His tongue moved slowly at first, teasing her pussy lips, tasting her moisture, circling her clit without touching it in the most maddening way, and then moved faster, licking her slit from top to bottom, tracing the ring of her vaginal opening, and then finally massaging her clit with a warm, wet pressure. Just as Siara was about to ask permission to cum, she felt all movement between her legs stop and saw Liam stand with the cane in his hands. Pulling back from the brink of orgasm so suddenly left Siara a little breathless, but she recovered almost immediately, so that when Liam held the cane to her lips, she kissed it feeling composed and ready.

He struck her just below her breasts. The pain brought tears to her eyes, but it was without flinching that in a clear voice she said, "One. Thank you, Sir." She didn't know how many blows she was to receive, but she knew this pain and felt certain this was a punishment she could easily withstand. Siara gritted her teeth and waited for the second strike, but instead of the bite of the cane, it was Liam's mouth closing around her clit that she felt next. Siara gasped as he sucked on the sensitive flesh, stopping only to dip into her with his tongue from time to time. She felt her orgasm building for the second time, this one more insistent than the first, but again, before she could form the question, he stopped what he was doing and presented her with the cane.

She looked down at it and then looked at Liam. The true nature of the punishment was starting to become clear to her. Still breathing hard and struggling to gain control of her body, Siara pressed her lips to the cane and then felt it cutting across her waist. She winced, fighting back her tears. "Two. Thank you, Sir," she said, but her voice was starting to shake.

Liam gave her no time to process the pain before he buried his face between her thighs again. Over and over he traced the words I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry, I love you, on her swollen clit with his tongue, until her flood of wetness and clenching pussy told him he had her unwillingly on the edge again. When he withdrew, he heard her cry of frustration, as he brought the cane to her lips once more, taking in her glistening skin, her quivering mouth, and the pleading in her eyes. He held it there as she drew in her ragged breath and then kissed the wood, before laying down a red welt just above her navel. The muscles in her taut stomach contracted as he heard the words, "Three. Thank you, Sir."

Again and again, Liam repeated the pattern, forcing Siara's body to the point of climax, increasing her state of arousal every time, and then leaving her painfully unfulfilled as he marked her thighs, breasts, and belly. By the time she counted six strikes, she was straining at the ropes that held her in place and her tears were flowing freely. When Liam dropped to his knees again, he heard her say, "Please, Sir, this slave begs for mercy!"

His mouth was filled with the taste of her, his nose filled with the smell of her, and now she begged for mercy, not from the cane, he knew, but from the torment of desire with no release. Coming to his feet, Liam stepped closer to her still, encircling her wrists with his hands. It would be so easy to plunge into her right now, satisfying and damning them both. Instead, he leaned his forehead on hers and grazed her lips with his own so that she could taste herself on them.

"Tell me, slave," he rasped, "Have you learned your lesson about cumming without permission?"

"Yes Sir," she whispered. She wanted him. She wanted him so badly.

"Good," he said, stepping back and breaking the spell. He untied her hands and feet and returned the cane and flogger to the wall. When he turned back to her, she was in position on her knees, eyes down, hands clasped.

"May I be of any other service to you, Sir?" she asked, her voice even and demure. Although it was she who had been punished, it was he who felt shaken.

"No," he said, his voice pained. "Go back to your room."

Siara bowed and was gone, leaving Liam alone in the Training Room, where he stayed, staring at the wall for a long time.

*************************

Meanwhile, in the bathing room, Tara sat on the stone platform and watched Katya wash herself, then use the little pump Mistress Leanna had used on her to squirt water mixed with soaproot into her own ass, hold it there, then release it. She patted her creamy skin with sweet smelling powder, then applied a generous amount of oil to her fingers which she worked into her pussy and backside. Katya left the bathing room briefly, but when she returned she was dressed in a black robe that shimmered with gold threads and she had the pump in one hand and the dreaded silver plug in the other. "Alright, your turn," she said.

Tara drew her knees into her body and wrapped her arms protectively around them.

"They'll use you anyway, whether you're clean or not," Katya said impatiently. "Except if you're not, they'll punish you too."

Resigned, Tara lay back on the platform, lifted her legs, and spread her cheeks as Mistress Leanna had instructed. She held her breath as the nozzle slipped into her, and slowly let it out as the water went in, did its job, and escaped. She tried to keep breathing as Katya poured the oil over her pussy, let it trickle down to her asshole, and then pushed the plug in, but as soon as she felt it stretching the hole, burning where she had been torn by the Young Master's assault, she began to resist.

"You'll get used to it," Katya said. "It was the same for all of us."

"No, please take it out," Tara begged. "I don't want it inside me."

Katya shrugged and pulled the plug from Tara's ass, which instantly puckered closed. "Suit yourself," she said, dropping the plug into the pocket of her robe. "Just don't blame me if you get in trouble for it."

Tara sat up and watched Katya leave the bathing room. She wished Siara was there. And she wished she knew what they planned to do to her next.

*****************************

It was later in the day when Siara led Tara into another room within the slaves' quarters. Strewn with plush pillows, ornately furnished, and anchored by the big canopy bed in its centre, the room was almost identical to the one she had been in before, except that the balcony of this room faced east rather than west, and this time, it was Lucas who stood on it, gazing at the gathering clouds in the distance.

Lucas didn't know why it bothered him so much that Thomas had decided to use the girl himself. He owned her after all. So why bother giving her to us for training, the irritated voice in his head demanded. The Young Master was his friend and there were many things he respected and admired about him, but when it came to training slaves, their methods were very different.

"Sir Lucas, may I offer you some wine?" Lucas turned to see Katya with a cup in her hands. She was a beauty, but she shouldn't have been a slave.

"You may," he replied.

When she brought the cup to him, he accepted it with one hand and encircled her delicate waist with the other, turning her so that her back was against the stone rail of the balcony. He took a long sip from the cup, then brought his mouth down on hers, parting her lips with the force of his kiss and letting the wine flow between them. He followed the wine with his tongue, exploring her mouth, while untying the sash of her robe so that it fell open, exposing her lustrous skin.

Just then, he heard Siara's voice. "Sir Liam, Sir Lucas, may I present the slave Tara for your use today?"

Releasing Katya from his embrace, Lucas stepped back from the slave and casually traced her nipple until it hardened, even as her face remained expressionless. He enjoyed seeing her body respond while her mind protested.

"We always seem to get interrupted," he said. Then, leaning in to give her erect nipple a playful pinch, "Let's remedy that sooner rather than later."

Lucas strolled back into the chamber and took in Liam's stony face as he sat on the chaise lounge against the wall. These kinds of training sessions always seemed to put his friend on edge.

"May I be of any service to you, Sir?" Siara asked.

You may," Lucas replied, approaching Tara who was in position on her knees. "You may undress me." As Siara went to work removing his boots and clothes, Lucas studied Tara carefully. Her body showed signs of use, which was to be expected, but something in her face had changed as well. What had Thomas done to her, he wondered, although he could imagine well enough.

"Close your eyes, slave," Lucas said to Tara, rubbing his half-hard cock across her cheek and then over her lips. "I want you to imagine this cock inside you, fucking you, making your pussy mine." As Tara closed her eyes, Lucas pushed the head of his cock into her mouth. "That's it, yes, take me deeper. Feels good, doesn't it, little bird?" As Tara's mind followed Lucas' voice, her mouth opened wider around his thick shaft and it wasn't long before she was sucking him with a steady rhythm, lost in the fantasy he was creating. "Now imagine Liam's hands on your ass. You like that, don't you? I heard you came all over his lap after a good spanking, is that true?" Tara moaned around his dick and he continued, "He's spanking you, harder now, and his fingers are inside your ass and you love it. You want both of us inside you at once."

Tara's eyes opened and she looked up at the Steward with wide eyes. Lucas drew back. "What do you wish to say, slave?" he asked.

12
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