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Bellisima the Slave

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Artwork by SeD
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I was born a slave in a House that made its money from breeding slaves. The Master, Matheus, was very wealthy because he bred the best. I was bred from a beautiful woman, and as I was female I was trained in the ways of entertaining and pleasing a future owner, and how to keep my body as lovely as possible. They exercised us, but we never worked hard. They made us obedient, but never broke our spirit. That was to be for the pleasure of our future owner.

When I turned 18, it was time to take me to the market. All of the slaves sold in the city went through this market, but in the centre was the covered part where the pleasure slaves were sold. The Master of the House came to the sale to deal with the auctioneers, and to take his money home.

Finally it was my turn to be sold. I was very nervous and looked towards the Master of my House, but his confident smile calmed me. I could see that he had pride in me, his merchandise, and I wanted him to be pleased with me. The auctioneer removed my tunic, revealing my naked body, and I stood proudly to show the woman I had become, so that I could get a good price for my Master. There were some mutterings of appreciation from the crowd.

“Now on the block, a female personal pleasure slave,” the auctioneer shouted. “A beautiful slender maiden of the class of pleasure slave expected from the House of Matheus, fit and capable of much pleasure.” As required, I walked up and down the stage so that buyers could see that I was well-formed. “She can dance, play the lyre, and sing, and as usual for this House she has had some martial training for the defence of her new owners, further training would be required if this was a primary function. And, of course. She has been trained in the ways of pleasure by the mistresses of House Matheus. No man has known her, not even Master Matheus himself. And see how lovely she is! A petite beauty with her long dark curling hair and green eyes! What am I bid?”

Numbers were shouted, going higher and higher. I could see Master Matheus smiling. After a while I looked to see who was still doing the bidding. One was an older merchant, a fat man obviously of great wealth, by him was a teenage son who looked very excited. But the other bidder made my heart race. He was a large burly man, a warrior, his powerful voice booming his bid across the market. Behind him stood an orc soldier. I knew this man must be a Captain of Orcs. The orc soldiers that were the core of the Empire’s army always had human captains. These men were exceptional in their strength and martial power, and also in their personal authority. They had to be masterful men that could lead the powerful orc soldiers. And for this they were well paid, and could afford a pleasure slave of my quality. I stopped in my tracks when I caught his eye. He had a look of confident authority, and looked at me with the absolute surety of a man that intended to own me. He smiled, and my heart pounded. I knew that he wanted me, and he would have me. I cast down my eyes in submission.

In the end the fat wealthy merchant and the excited boy were disappointed, and with a confident swagger the Captain of Orcs walked through the crowd towards Master Matheus followed by his orc. The captain placed out the gold onto the counting table, and Master Matheus swept it all into a large purse.

“You have made a good choice, Captain. None of my girls have failed to please, although I suppose you will not need her martial training to protect you.” The captain laughed.

“You will never know. Perhaps an assassin may come through the window one night!” They both laughed again while I stood meekly by and the huge orc just stood and stared at them. Human humour tended to be lost on orcs.

“Well she is yours now, Captain, Enjoy her!”

“I shall! Sergeant Arack, collar and cuff her and take her back to the barracks and prepare her as we discussed.”

“A collar, sir? I am a pleasure slave!” The Captain turned to look at me, and he smiled. It was a slightly cruel smile, and I looked down.

“I had heard that your slaves were not passive, Matheus. Obedient but not passive. It will be a pleasure to teach her.”

“That’s the idea, that it be your pleasure. And of course, you really only want her to be completely submissive to you, not to anybody else. And girl, this is your Master now, address him so.”

“Yes, Master,” I said. The orc put the collar around my neck. It was at least a good quality leather, not the harness of a fieldworker. He pulled my arms behind me, gently but firmly, and cuffed my arms behind my back. They attached wrist to elbow, so my arms were above my waist, exposing my bottom. The orc then put a leash on the collar, keeping a firm grip on his end. Then with a little tug, he walked away. I was not give a tunic, or sandals, but was made to walk through the streets of the city naked, led on a leash by this huge orc.

Many people watched us as we walked through the city, many jeered, and all the men looked at me as though I was a tasty piece of meat on a plate. I had never felt so humiliated, and it was dawning on me that being owned by the Captain of Orcs was going to be a very different life from being the slave of Master Matheus.

The orc, Arack, led me into the barracks, where there were many orcs, plus a few goblins and human females. They all knew that the Captain had gone to fetch a new pleasure slave and were curious about me. This was one of four barracks, one at each corner of the city, each containing 100 orcs and their captain, together with any retainers. The goblins, of various sizes, some as tall as me, would be responsible for maintaining the equipment and buildings, the women, fleshy and of peasant stock, would be the pleasure slaves of the orcs.

The assembled garrison and retainers followed as I was walked across the parade grounds to a large building. There were many mutterings of appreciation from the orcs, a couple of unkind words from some of the women, but I looked and they mostly seemed to look benevolent.

Entering the building I could see it contained the mess hall of the barracks, which surprised me. There was a slightly raised dais for the Captain, senior orc officers, and any guests, below it the tables for the 100 orc warriors. For some reason the high table on the dais was taken away and the chairs were pushed back, like it was a stage.

Arack led me onto the dais and gently, but very firmly, pushed me onto my knees. Then he pushed my head down, and pulled the leash of the collar down between my legs, to tie it around my ankles. As a result I was face down with my bottom in the air, my labia feeling the breeze, but also feeling the hot stares of all the garrison. Arack lifted my head up gently, and slipped a pillow under it.

“Thank you, sergeant,” I said for indeed I was very grateful for any kindness.

“Capn said not to mark you,” he said gruffly. “He be here soon.” So I waited. Completely unable to move now, my body exposed for the amusement of the garrison, waiting for my Master to come and enjoy me.

I lay face down on the dais of the mess hall, tied so that my bottom was raised high in the air for the pleasure of all to see, and there many there to observe. There was an expectant murmur from the crowd, and I could hear heavy footfalls come towards me on the dais.

“Now there is a pretty sight,” said the Captain, standing right behind me. There were sniggers from the crowd. “I am now going to flog your ass until it is a bright red!”

“Oh, Master, have I done something wrong?” I had not been disciplined since I was a child.

“No, I just thought it would be a good foundation for our relationship.”

“Yes, Master.” I was his slave, his property to do with as he wished, I could have no complaints. He must have bent over because I could feel his hand on my bottom.

“A thing of beauty,” he said, stroking my soft silky skin. “But don’t get too relaxed, I plan to spend the entire evening introducing you to my people. His hand went away, and then I felt the flogger strike WHACK! I writhed and the crowd cheered. Whack! Went the flogger and the crowd continued to laugh as WHACK! He struck again, and again, and again. He worked over both buttocks and I writhed against my bonds. My bottom was aflame now, over every square inch of it. I groaned with the sensation and he laughed. He flicked it at my labia and I cried out, much to the amusement of the assembly. My body was thrashing in my bonds, the stimulation crushing me into submission. But then he stopped. My breathing was hard, but then I inhaled very sharply as I felt his fingers part my labia and enter me.

“As I suspected, she likes it, nice and wet,” he said loudly, and the audience shouted their laughter. After a pause I could feel him kneel behind me, he put both hands on my red glowing bottom, and then I felt a pressure on my labia, the pressure built up until my body parted, and he entered me. The mistresses of the slave house had used toys on me to prepare my body, but he was huge in comparison.

“Mmm, that’s nice!” he said. He was fucking me in front of his men, which even I, raised to be a pleasure slave, found odd. Perhaps it is a way to show his authority? I thought, as the shaft of his cock entered me to the full so that his body was hard against my sensitive reddened flesh. It was my last thought for a while as he retracted, then thrust again, and again. My mind was full of the sensation of him thrusting his massive shaft into my body, hard and repeatedly. I moaned loudly and bit my lip. I may have heard the audience murmur in approval but I was really not caring at this stage. His rhythm was perfect, pounding into me time and time again. But after a while, his thrusting become harder, more frenzied. I moaned again and he growled as he came with violent thrusts that pounded into my body, then final explosive lunges as he filled me with his cum. He remained thrust deeply into me as his phallus throbbed his seed into my body.

Roughly he swung me around, so that my face was against his dripping member. He thrust it deep into my throat. It was so big, I could hardly breathe as he pulled my head onto him. I did my best to suck and lick it, but he mostly seemed intent on choking me with it. Again he finally came into me again, and like a good slave I swallowed it all. Hungrily I licked his member clean, happy to now have a clear airway. It felt that he was displaying my submission to the crowd.

The Captain stood up, and presumably at a sign from him a goblin released my bonds. The collar remained however. I rose up to kneel in submission to my Master, my head still spinning from the arousal.

“Gratia, did I hear you call my new slave a skinny bitch. Do you want to fight her?” Immediately my head cleared.

“Yes, Capn!” a coarse woman’s voice shouted out in reply. I looked to see one of the women that had jeered me at my arrival.

“You may, but do not mark her face, understood.”

“Yes, Capn,” said the woman. I rose to face her, seemingly still unsteady on my feet. We faced, and she lunged at me. I deftly sidestepped, and tripped her so she ran directly at the floor instead of me. “You fucking bitch!” she said as she got back to her feet. This time she did not charge but approached warily, hands out stretched, ready to wrestle. I waited, then stepped forward and punched her in the nose. Blood spurted immediately and she fell to the floor as the entire room cheered. I returned to kneel before my Master.

“You should all know that the House of Matheus breeds more than pleasure slaves. He breeds some of the best tactical warriors in the empire and all of his slaves are trained to some degree, even those meant for pleasure. Slave,” he looked down at me.

“Yes Master.”

“If anyone starts a fight with you, you have my permission to kill them, understood?”

“Yes, Master.” The orcs in particular seemed to approve of this command.

“But you will also please whoever I choose. Marla? I saw you cheer the new slave, come and pleasure each other for my amusement.” One of the younger women, although still large and fleshy, came to me with a meek smile. I stepped forward and put one arm around her waist to pull her close, my other hand went to her copious breast. My soft lips came to hers, and our tongues writhed together. I squeezed her large round breast, pulling at the hard nipple, and her mouth opened. She obviously had no skill, but was just a fuck toy for the orcs. It is possible that she had never been pleasured before.

I pulled her to the ground so that I could use both hands, one now reaching for her pulsing clitoris. I stroked it gently but firmly, as I had been trained, and she moaned aloud. The audience approved heartily. I kept at it until the poor woman was like a big lump of clay, groaning and moaning in ecstasy. Then eventually she climaxed, calling loudly for her god. I helped her to her feet, and another woman aided her return to the audience as I went to kneel before my master again.

“Gorock? Your turn,” said the Captain. I stayed kneeling until I was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled away. It was the goblins and everyone laughed and cheered to see them manhandle me, or goblin-handle me, which involves a lot more pinching, to a table at the centre of the room. There were several of goblins, they did not give me time to count them. All of them clustered around, groping and pinching and putting their fingers where they don’t belong. The smaller ones in particular were getting their fingers between my thighs quite invasively, and even into my anus.

The one behind me thrust his fingers into my anus with increasing enthusiasm, and then pulled me onto him. Goblin cocks are larger proportionally than their size, so I inhaled sharply when his phallus thrust into my rectum. He went back onto the table, and then other goblins clambered on top. The largest entered me from the front very easily as he was smaller than the very large Captain. Even so, some of the other goblins squeezed their fingers between us to caress my clitoris. Two other goblins were enjoying my breasts, squeezing and sucking them and pinching my nipples. One other had his cock in my mouth, and I could thankfully take the whole thing without choking. I could not pleasure him proficiently however as the expert and knowledgeable hands of the other goblins were driving me into raptures of delight.

This delight continued for some time until all the goblins were spent and I was covered with cum. I staggered back to the dais to kneel panting before my master as the audience cheered. I heard some activity behind me, and I looked up into the Captain’s face. He was looking at whatever was happening behind me, a cruel smile on his face. My mind raced to think what was being prepared, and it occurred to me that there was one group left with which he might want to “introduce” me to.

I felt a powerful but gentle hand lift my long hair up, and clip the leash to my collar. At the tug, I stood and turned. Orcs stood ready, in anticipation. One carried a long single-tail whip. My heart started to race. Orcs are brutal and clumsy, but very strong. Surely a whipping by an orc would leave scars that would ruin my Master’s property?

It was Sergeant Arack with the leash, and he led me to the centre of the room where two ropes had been hung from rings in the rafters. He attached the cuffs to my wrists again, and linked a rope to one and then the other. Other orcs pulled the ends of the ropes and my arms stretched upwards. Goblins tied my ankles to other ropes that were attached to the ground. I was pulled up until I was spread-eagled, suspended in the air.

I was facing towards the dais, and looked towards my Master, in the hope he would laugh and say to take me down. But he just smiled cruelly. It was Arack that took the whip from the other orc, and unrolled it along the floor in front of me. He shook the whip out, and it moved like a venomous snake across the floor. I had seen a slave whipped before. It was a horrible bloody affair.

The orc lifted the whip, and struck at the air, CRACK! It went. All the audience cheered. I looked with frightened appealing eyes to my Master, but he just smiled. I was his, and if this is what he wished, it was to be so.

Arack raised the whip again, but was facing me. I closed my eyes and CRACK! The whip streaked across my breasts. I cried out in pain as the whip seared across my skin. Then CRACK! It fell across my stomach. CRACK! It wrapped around my waist. I was weeping now with the pain and fear that he body I had kept so perfect would be scarred for life. CRACK! The whip coiled around my thighs. I pulled vainly against my bonds, but there was no escape. CRACK! The whip fell across my buttocks, and I moaned. But it was then that I noticed something: it actually did not feel that bad. CRACK! The whip fell across my nipples and I cried out. But I cried out in pleasure! I looked down at my body, at the marks. The orc was whipping me masterfully, each blow a love-tap. CRACK! The ship streaked up my back. CRACK! Then again, crossing my buttocks. I started to writhe in my bonds. I was enjoying it. CRACK! Actually it was not the crack of a whip, my mind heard that, it was really just a slap. This monstrous brute of an orc was giving me a playful spanking with a tool that could cut me to shreds. I looked at my Master, and he looked in my face and laughed.

“She’s enjoying it!” He shouted, and they all laughed. I writhed as the orc toyed with me, and I could see orcs stroking their monstrous cocks as I wriggled and groaned under the lash. Then Arack stopped, paused and CRACK! This time it was for real and it felt like a red hot blade had seared across my thigh. I screamed in agony. Then CRACK! Again, to the same thigh, crossing the first wheal.

“Aaaaahhhh” I wept. I looked down and could see blood trickling down where the marks crossed.

The orcs gently let me down, and I cowered on the floor. The Captain came and stood in front of me, and I assumed the pose of submission, kneeling before him, but with straight back and my head held high, although my eyes looked down.

“Those marks will remain, a reminder of what will happen if you ever disobey me.” He spoke loudly, so the whole room could hear. This entire evening was my introduction to the garrison, but also some sort of power statement by him. It occurred to me that apart from his power he was demonstrating my worthiness.

“Yes, Master.” I said, in submissiveness, but also with strength. The submission of a slave from the House of Matheus.

“Have you been fucked by an orc, slave?” The Captain asked.

“No male has entered my body except in your sight, Master.”

“Oh good. This will be new to you, then.”

I found myself suddenly being lifted from the ground and carried like a toy to a table near the centre of the room. Two other orcs had removed their loin-coverings and walked towards me, one was Arack. Their cocks were not bigger than that of the captain, but he was huge, and this seemed to be three of them at the same time.

The one that had grabbed me from the waist thrust hard into my anus. There was some resistance, but an orc’s reaction to any resistance was to charge forward even harder. I thanked all the gods that the goblins had prepared me for this, and I tried to relax. I inhaled sharply as the monstrous member rammed into me like a warship. The orc grunted in pleasure, then lay back on the ground.

Arack now came forward and lay across me, crushing my nether lips with his thrust into me. Two orcs now filled me with their pulsing, throbbing cocks. Finally another orc came to one side, then crouched down, grabbed my head, and drove his mighty phallus deep into my mouth. I now had three large and powerful orcs with their massive cocks pounding into me. Hot muscular orc flesh crushed my body, their cocks pounded into me like a smith’s hammer, and I had difficulty breathing as the one fucking my face was trying to touch his cock to the other two inside me. I was feeling dizzy as they hammered harder and harder until with brutal force they climaxed, driving their bodies deep into mine.

Cum poured from every orifice as the orcs climbed off of me. The other orcs clustered around my prone body, but with great relief I realised they were pounding their hands, not intending to pound me. They had been doing this during the whipping and the use of my every orifice by their leaders, so they all came quickly, one after another until I was completely covered in orc cum. I had been too weak to help them, so this gave me a little rest. I rose to my feet, walked back unsteadily to my master, and kneeled before him

The whole room cheered.

Marla and another girl took me to the bath, and washed me. Healing herbs were applied to my wheals and bruises, and the scar on my thigh. Finally I was led to my Master’s bed.

I kneeled in submission before him, and the girls were dismissed.

“Well done,” he said. “I think you realised that I was showing our people your worth. You will speak with my authority in this house when I am not present.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I will tell you that apart from my own pleasure, I intend to use you to win the backing of certain senators, governors, and other men of power in the empire.”

“As you wish, Master.”

“You would have made a great warrior, Bellisima. You may still yet. You are an ornament and credit to the House of Matheus. Now come to bed.”

“Yes, Master.”

He was a very attentive lover, when we were alone, and I was about to live some of the happiest days of my life.
 
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It's a story with Erin the Brave, elf-girl warrior, and my character Bellisima the slave, who goes to stay with the elves for training. Could you be another elf? Your avatar seems to have wings and I don't have angels in this universe! I think I'm a better Catholic than I realised!
YES am.an elf...no wings...I am the Elf girl warrior who helped to bring down Rome. So yes Erin is a female elf.
 
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Bellisima the Slave IV: Erin the Elf (with @Erin the Brave)

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When I was being brought up in the House of Master Matheus I was taught much about the arts of pleasuring my future master or mistress. But Master Matheus also bred warrior slaves, bred to protect their owner, or to do their will in other ways. The warriors were, however, taught how to give pleasure, while the pleasure slaves were also taught to fight. Although not greatly skilled, I was adept in this training. I loved to shoot the bow, and rode as much as I was allowed, while training for self-defence was also useful to tone the body. I was never allowed to do anything that might mar my pleasure slave’s body, but was otherwise encouraged.

After being bought by the Captain of Orcs I continued to train, partly to stay fit, but partly because it was enjoyable. The orcs were not archers, but a range was set up for me to practice, while I taught the girls and goblins how to spar with wooden weapons and bare hands. The orcs would often mock us, but I did not care. They may be big, but anyone with skill and speed could take them.

But one day my Master, the Captain of Orcs, was watching me.

“You should get further training,” he told me. “I know the sorcerer can restore you if you are injured or die, but I’d rather you not have to experience that.”

“Thank you, Master,” I said.

“Don’t get carried away. I don’t want Tizak to get injured or die.” Tizak was the densest orc in the barracks and was a byword for stupidity.

“Thank you, Master,” I said, rather less warmly.

“You should train with the elves. They are the fiercest fighters, and know the best ways to fight when you are, well, your height.”

“Yes, Master,” I said, this time quite coldly. The problem with speaking like that to your Master, who is well over 6ft and a tower of muscle, and you are a slender woman barely over 5 feet, is that he will throw you over his shoulder, take you to the bedroom, spank you, and give you a good shafting.

But the end result of this was that I went to the sorcerer Maladan’s house, went through the portal in his house, and found myself on a high hillside of the Green Mountains, the range that defined the western edge of the steppe-plateau where my people, the Kaltan, dwelt. Many Kaltan dwelt in the Green Mountains also, but mostly it was populated by the elves.

I stood on a wide green lawn, and some elves walked out to meet me. It was rare to see an elf in the southern lowlands where the imperial capital lay, but their short stature, pointed ears, and great beauty with large shining blue or green eyes made it very obvious what they were.

“The blessings of the Old Ones be with you!” said the foremost, a she-elf shorter than I, with very long silver-blonde hair, and a very long gown of fine fabric. “My name is Elandara, I am a member of the council of elders. This is Toran, a leader amongst our warriors, and Erin, one of our foremost warriors.” The first was a male, although so beautiful and beardless it was not very easy to tell, while the second was a lovely she-elf with long wavy red hair and piercing blue eyes. She did not have a very lovely look on her face, however.

“So this is the fuck-toy? Why is it that she needs training to fight when she is just some man’s cum-dump?” Erin did not seem enthusiastic about my presence, but what struck me about her was not her anger.

“You have such a beautiful lilt in the way you speak, in your accent,” I said. “Where are you from?” All I had known were the dull accents of the plains folk, the clipped nasal tones of the Haladdan hierarchy, the rolling accent of my people, the Kaltan, and the rather brutish tones of Tachans like my Master the Captain. “It sounds as though you are singing your words, even though they were meant to be hurtful.” Erin stared at me with an open mouth, while Elandara and Toran laughed.

“She is from the Western Isles,” said Toran. “They all sound like that out there.”

“I would love to go there,” I said. “If everyone speaks as though it is a song it must be a beautiful place.”

“Come!” said Elandara with a smile, leading towards some buildings. “Erin will be responsible for your training, so it is good you find her voice beautiful, because sometimes her words are not.”

“They are only words, and there was some truth in them,” I said. Looking back at Erin, who trailed behind, I could see she had a strange look on her face, but at least it was not the angry face. The community was almost entirely comprised of elves, living in beautiful white stone and wood buildings. They were a few humans, of my own people, and a minotaur, who was a blacksmith. I had never met a minotaur before, and he was actually very nice. I will admit to flirting with him a little.

The elves fight with bows and short curved swords, for the most part. They fight with great skill, and remarkable speed. This is what I had to learn, and a lot of it involved sparring with Erin. On the first day of sparring, she seemed to have recovered from my words the first day, and seemed to delight in discomforting me. We fought with wooden practice weapons and the green leather armour we wore was some protection. The armour was beautiful, and looked like large green leaves of various hues, but it did not cover the whole body. By the end of the day, she had come to realise that no pain or suffering she could inflict on me would stop me from learning what I needed to. In the evening I ate with the elders, and all of that time, Erin watched me.

The next day, we started some simple sparring, when she started to talk.

“So you are born a slave, and have been trained all of your short life to give pleasure?” I knew that although many of the elves looked no older than me, they could in fact be centuries old.

“Yes,” I answered.

“So you were taught to pleasure men?”

“Yes.”

“And women?”

“I am trained to pleasure whoever my owner wishes me to pleasure.” In some ways, this conversation was an extension of the physical sparring, for we continued to circle around each other looking for opportunities to strike.

“So are you good?”

“I am trained to be so,” I said. Suddenly she stopped, and threw the wooden weapons aside.

“Come on then, go for me.” I was confused. “Let’s have a bit of pleasure-sparring, give you a chance to win for a change.” I, too, threw my practice weapons aside, and went to stand in front of her. She was breathing very heavily, but not from the exertion of the sparring. We were inches apart, and I could smell her now, the scent of mountain flowers and hidden springs.

“You smell of far-away lands,” she said. She must have been inhaling my scent as I inhaled hers. “Sacred incense and voluptuous spices.” We stepped even closer, and I inhaled her breath, as she inhaled mine. I reached out, as did she, and our lips came together. We held each other then, as our moist lips pressed together, and our tongues entwined. There was a hunger in her, but it was not the hunger of males that I had by now known. She was not driven to rut and mate, to then fall away when sated. She hungered for something else.

Her hands deftly undid my armour, being more familiar with it, and aided me in my efforts to remove hers. Soon we were naked, writhing in each other’s arms on the grass, caressing, embracing, stroking, and exploring each other’s bodies in a way I had never known before. I had never felt my breasts touched the way she did, the ardent delicacy with which she felt my pussy.

“You have such a sexy moan,” she said. Her hunger was such that I lay back on the grass and she lay across me. I was familiar with the hunger that could be sated, and thought I would just have to wait out this sexual combat.

Quickly she spun around, her mouth thrust between my thighs, her lips pressing against my nether lips, her tongue entering me. I took up the challenge, and soon my tongue entered her in return, running softly across her clitoris, then hard into her sex. She moaned as I played there, but her hunger drove her on. Loudly I cried at the pleasure she was giving me, so much that at the back of my head I was concerned that someone might hear. But in truth at the front of my head there was nothing but her.

I had never felt like this, for I, too started to feel an undefined hunger for her. I wanted to be in her, and her in me, but not in the course violence of a phallus being thrust into my body. I was confused, and unsure, and in the end could not resist her. I lay back and let her play, completely defeated by her strange hunger. She turned around so her hands could caress my body and fondle my breasts as her tongue explored deep within me. I writhed in orgasmic pleasure as she played me like a lyre, and I could only lay back in total defeat.

She brought her face up to mine, her naked sweating body on top of me, and a wicked smile on her sweet lips.

“Did I win?” she said, smiling.

“Yes,” I said in a dreamy voice.

“Good, and you are my prize.” We kissed then, and for most of the rest of the day. For the first time in my life I had found something I had never been trained to expect. Not a master or a user, but a lover. We spent every moment together from then on while I stayed with the elves.

For the week I spent training in martial arts with the elves, I spent most of it sparring with Erin, or making love with Erin, and sleeping with Erin. I would not have thought to have known what that term meant before now: “making love”. It was a thing for romantic fairy tales. But for that week I did not have an owner, or a master, I had a lover.

Sometimes, however, we talked. She told me of her homeland beyond the Western Sea, and I told her of my life in the Imperial Capital. I also told her of my experiences in the Barracks, and of my adventures on behalf of the sorcerer. Of the massive members of trolls and werewolves, and of being bound and flogged.

“You talk of being strung up like a hunted deer and whipped as though it is not a horrible experience,” she said.

“There are worse experiences. Failing in my duty would be far more painful to me.”

“Yes, I can understand that, but it is almost that you like to be tied up and flogged.” I paused for a moment, then tried to explain it.

“When you give yourself up completely, and submit in totality to someone else, and the lash and the struggling against your bonds drive you deeper into submission, you end up with nothing left, nothing but the true kernel of who you are. No pretension, no performance, just true being.” She thought for a while.

“Do me!” she said.

“What?”

“Do me, tie me up.”

“I suppose I could give it a go.” I said, but then a mischievous thought came to me. “Stay here!” I ran off, and returned with rope. As a pleasure slave I had received some training in the tying of knots, for sometimes it is a slave’s owner that wishes to be treated like a slave. I tied her splayed out onto the ground, for I had gone to the blacksmith to get a large hammer and some stakes along with the rope. She was spread out, completely helpless on the soft grass. I then moved slowly up her body, kissing, and licking, until I reached her face and I kissed her as she writhed and panted in my bonds.

“Now I shall have my vengeance!” I said to her, smiling cruelly. “But we are consenting lovers, not owner and slave. For that we must give each other signals through words. Give me a word that says stop doing what I am doing, but a word other than “stop”, for you may say that without meaning it.

“Acorn,” she said as she writhed and bit her lip.

“And another word, a word that says that you consent.” She looked into my eyes, excitement and fear in them.

“Pinecone,” she whispered. I stood up.

“Smith?” I shouted, for I had also returned with him from his smithy.

“Nice,” he growled. I had been educated to know what an erect minotaur would present, it was as large as a bull’s but close to that of a human’s.

“Ahhh! Nooo!” Erin screamed. I laughed like a demon. Vengeance was mine! I went down to her. I bent down to whisper in her ear.

“I will put my ear near your mouth, whisper a single word. You know the words I expect.”

I put my ear near her mouth, she paused and then I heard a gentle whisper.

“Acorn,” she said…

A minotaur’s tongue is as remarkable and delightful a thing as his cock, and for the rest of the week there would be times when Erin and I would sit on him, while we kissed and fondled each other, in a state of complete ecstatic delight.

In the end I had to leave, but for a few days Erin came with me. We swam in the Pool of Souls together, so that I knew that I would always be with her, and that a fragment of our souls would swim together there forever.

I also had the orc sergeant Arack string us up together, our naked bodies close, and then have the sergeant whip us with his amazing skill, until our souls swam together in a higher plane while our lips and tongues pressed passionately together.

But in the end she had to return to her own people, and we bade each other goodbye with tear-soaked kisses. Our farewells were in the cave where the Pool of Souls and the door to everywhere were, while the sorcerer Maladon looked on. When Erin was gone, he turned to me and spoke.

“Any time you like, I can send you off to see her again, you know.”

“Really?” I screamed excitedly.

“Well, yes. Of course. Why not?” and I shouted and danced around the cave, then dove into the pool to swim with her memory.


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