Possessing Allura (10 page)

‘No!' she shrieked. ‘I'll never bear it.'

‘I'm quite sure you'll manage, my dear.'

As the blows passed one blended into another. Allura heard herself counting afresh, as if she were a third person, observing nearby or floating above. The pain, acute and pulsing, blended with her heartbeat and with her secret lusts. She was intensely aroused despite – or because of – what he was doing to her defenseless body.

‘Done,' he proclaimed at last.

‘I… I feel strange,' she mumbled, her voice a gasping whisper. Her bottom was continuing to clench, though he'd stopped striking her. ‘Baron, what is happening to me?'

‘It is the heat of a female in submission,' he casually observed. ‘Must I teach you everything?'

Allura felt shamed by her own naivety, and by her reaction as well. If only this man were not such a monster she might be able to express to him her profound need to be held, to be neither judged nor pressured but simply allowed to absorb this most incredible experience.

‘We must be on our way to the castle,' he said dismissively.

‘I don't think I can walk,' she told him.

‘You will walk,' he stated uncompromisingly, ‘or I will whip you along the way for incentive.'

Allura gathered herself, facing the depth of her loneliness. Revenge alone sustained her, and the hope of seeing him in her place. If he thought he was heartless, she would be twice as bad.

‘The ride will not be pleasant,' he warned as she stood meekly beside the horse. ‘Because of your welts,' he clarified.

‘I should be allowed in the wagon,' she said. ‘My own slave has better accommodations, as do my clothes.'

‘Your slave can be thrown to wild dogs at my slightest whim, as can your clothes,' he laughed. ‘Is that the status you would like to share?'

‘I want my undergarments back,' she demanded, ignoring his sarcasm.

‘No, you will ride as you are, and you will not sit on your skirt, either.'

The baron compelled her to sit bare-assed on the saddle, her agonized buttocks burning from the touch of the leather. ‘Hold on tight,' he ordered, his arm clamping her waist and drawing her close. The horse gave a whinny and began to trot, and then to gallop, the moving saddle causing her pain and pleasure in equal measure. The man behind her was overwhelming too, with his scent and his iron will, palpable and deeply sexual. His cock was hard against her lower back, and she had the overwhelming desire to be on her knees, appeasing him with her mouth, her helplessness reinforcing her arousal.

Montreico returned them to the head of his troops. They passed the wagon and she saw the cage in the back was open. She wondered if Veeta was gone, but then behind it she saw the girl's slender legs in the air, a faceless man rutting between them, his naked, hairy ass rising and falling rhythmically, one of the guards fucking her as the caravan moved slowly along.

Rodolfo pulled alongside his commander. ‘Baron, do you wish to stop at nightfall?'

‘No, we press on. You will ride ahead, Rodolfo. Alert the castle to be at the ready for us.'

 

 

 

The silvery moon, barely a tenth full, was high above the baron's castle when they arrived. Allura was grateful for the relative darkness to cover her unseemly entrance into the midst of his household. These were, after all, the servants over whom she would soon hold sway as their mistress. Seeing her arrival on the man's horse as disheveled and flushed as she was would have been an uncompromising blow to her authority. She wondered if this was part of the baron's reasoning for riding them so hard in one day.

‘Well done,' he murmured to the steed, feeding it a carrot as soon as they dismounted. Allura was starving, but she wasn't about to beg him for food.

‘Seeing as how you care so much more for your horse than you do for me, I should like to be shown to my chambers,' she said icily. ‘If it's not too much trouble.'

He continued to pat the muscled neck of the horse as he addressed her. ‘You will have no chambers, only temporary guest quarters until we are married.'

For the moment Allura had not will with which to argue. ‘I am concerned only with tonight, baron. I am very tired.'

‘Rodolfo will show you the way,' he said.

‘I will require my belongings as well,' she said haughtily. ‘And my slave.'

‘Your slave is occupied at the moment. I shall have her sent presently.'

Allura bristled. ‘Occupied, you say? Don't you mean she's being abused by your men?'

‘She seems to be enjoying it well enough,' he shrugged. ‘At any rate, my hands were tied. A few of them made use of her on the way here and now they all want her, so naturally, in the interests of fairness, I have allowed it.'

‘Allowed it? But you have no right. She is mine; a lady's slave, meant for a lady's service.'

The baron arched an eyebrow. ‘Veeta has told me differently,' he countered. ‘She indicated you frequently punish her by throwing her to packs of men. Guardsmen, prisoners, even. And that afterwards you thirst to know every intimate detail of the experience.'

Allura was crimson. Once again he was hinting at her fascination with female slavery. ‘I am as far above a slave, baron, as I am above you,' she spat.

‘Rodolfo,' he said, infuriatingly ignoring her comment, ‘take the future baroness to her room for the night.'

‘Room?' she challenged, overlooking for the moment his attempt to demote her to baroness. ‘It had better be more than just one room.'

The baron had already turned his back, leading his horse by the reins to the stable where he would personally wash him down and tend to his feeding.

Allura clenched her fists, watching him walk away.

‘Princess, shall we go?' Rodolfo drew her attention.

‘Did you fuck my slave as well?' She whirled to face him. ‘Answer me, damn you.'

‘No, I did not,' he stated indignantly, looking hurt by the accusation.

‘Good, keep it that way,' she said, feeling a little guilty for turning her frustrations on the poor man. But Rodolfo said nothing in response.

A few minutes later he was opening the door to her room at the end of a long, red-carpeted hall lined with suits of armor, no doubt belonging to the baron's pathetic ancestors. ‘Will you require anything further?' he asked, preparing to take his leave.

‘No,' she said, ‘you are dismissed.'

He bowed crisply and left, Allura closed the door behind him, but it was not long before Veeta arrived, her mistress confronting her at once.

‘You will tell me everything,' she demanded of the cowering girl. ‘All that you did with those pigs.'

Veeta, bruised and bedraggled, fell to her knees. ‘Mistress, I did nothing. It was not my fault. They took me for their pleasure in the wagon. There was nothing I could do.'

Allura, shaking with anger, stormed up to the girl and smacked her cheek, the blow reverberated to her own wrist and for a split second she remembered that she, too, had been struck like this, not too long ago by the baron. ‘You lying little bitch,' she hissed, covering her sudden discomfort. ‘Do you want me to cut out that slut tongue of yours?'

Veeta wept, putting her head to her mistress' feet. ‘Please, mistress, I am scared and so uncertain here; do not be unhappy with me. I have no one else but you.'

Allura felt a lump in her throat – the unfamiliar feeling of guilt. ‘Stop your sniveling,' she ordered, her anger abating somewhat. ‘Do I look like your mother – deserting cow that she was?' It was a cruel dig, given that Saraveeta's family had all been forced into exile following the disgrace of their daughter in court.

‘I am a bad girl, mistress,' Veeta wailed. ‘Please punish me.'

‘I shall request a studded cane,' Allura told her. ‘The kind used on male prisoners. I will draw blood, Saraveeta.'

The girl moaned to hear her old name. ‘I live to obey,' she declared.

Allura put a foot down on the girl's neck, her shoes soiled and dusty from the journey. ‘You don't know a thing about pain,' she said cryptically. ‘Or suffering.' As if Allura were now an expert after a single beating. ‘This baron is our enemy.' She pressed with the heel of her shoe. ‘Do you understand me? You must try for once in your life to resist.'

‘I will, mistress,' she promised.

‘Whatever happens, you work for me, you belong to me, is that clear?'

‘Yes, mistress.'

‘I'm the one who's taken care of you, remember? Without me you'd be dead or whoring in some brothel, servicing ten cocks an hour, not a copper coin to show for it.'

‘I-I am grateful, mistress, I swear.' The girl's mouth sought the princess' other shoe, to lick and kiss.

‘Do not ever cross me again, Veeta, or I will exercise my prime right of ownership. Do you know what that means?'

‘You may torture, maim or kill me as you wish.'

Allura removed her foot from the girl's neck and nudged her side. ‘On your back, slave, and lift your hips.'

Veeta assumed the vulnerable position, but after just a few minutes like this, her bottom raised from the floor, she would be begging to rest back down. But Allura would not have to listen to her because Veeta was a slave and she was free. That was the natural order of things. Some were born to stand tall, others to grovel. She was of royal birth and therefore tallest of all.

‘You live to be fucked, don't you?' Allura mocked cruelly. ‘You have no other function. But remember that every cock that forces itself between your legs or between your lips is an extension of me. You will banish from your mind the thought of any man – the baron especially. When he is fucking you, you will think only of me and my dildo.'

‘Yes, mistress.'

‘It is possible to do this,' said Allura to her slave. ‘To forget a man like Montreico.'

True enough words, thought Allura, but to whom was she addressing them – the slave girl or herself?

‘Soon I will be married, Veeta. Can you imagine that? Since we were little girls we awaited that moment when we would have husbands.'

‘Yes, mistress.'

Allura commanded her to squeeze her own nipples, multiplying her anguish. ‘But you will never have a husband, Veeta. Only masters. Men who need please you not at all.'

‘Yes, mistress.'

Allura felt the excitement between her thighs. She had a special treat for her slave tonight, although the first few times Veeta had been required to employ her tongue as a cock she had cried afterwards for hours, making prayers of supplication to the gods in forgiveness for such an immoral act.

‘Please me.' Allura lowered herself to the slave's face, lifting her skirts to her waist. She would not remove them in the presence of the slave lest the girl see how she'd been abused at the baron's hands. ‘And I want to orgasm,' she warned, ‘or the beatings you will receive later will only be even worse.'

The slave licked well, and Allura smiled with satisfaction. ‘When I am married to the baron things will change,' she said. ‘He will no longer behave so arrogantly, and he will do as I say. For I am to be queen one day, and his life will be in my hands.'

Allura closed her eyes dreamily, and kneaded her breasts through her gown. Could it be right what the baron had said, that she behaved as a brat because she was trying to lure a strong man to come and put her in her place?

‘Oh yes, that's it,' she sighed. ‘There's a good little slave.' Allura ran her hands through the girl's hair, reveling in her power. ‘Keep up the good work and we'll find you a little treat to eat from your bowl. How would that be?'

‘Insolent bitch,' thundered a voice, and she felt a hand in her hair, yanking it by the roots. She opened her eyes, crying out with shock and pain, and the next few moments were a blur as the baron dragged her across the room to a heavy wooden chair.

‘You are fortunate we have not yet sealed our bond, Allura, or this incident would mark your swift and final fall from grace.'

She was pushed over the back of the chair, her head to the cushion, her bottom displayed to full advantage. ‘Montreico, let go of me!' she shrieked.

‘Come here, Veeta,' he addressed the slave directly, ‘and observe the price of your mistress' earlier disobedience.'

‘No,' pleaded Allura, ‘do not let her see.'

There was to be no genteel lifting of skirts this time; grasping the back of her bodice the baron ripped apart her dress, tearing the velvet to shreds, and in a matter of violent seconds she was naked.

Veeta gasped to see the evidence of Allura's beating.

‘Amazing, isn't it?' The baron ran a hand over the welts, making Allura whimper and squirm. ‘Such a seemingly effective punishment, and yet completely ineffective.'

‘Ow…' cried Allura, the caresses reawakening the earlier agonies.

‘This is mine,' the baron caressed Allura's sex. ‘If you ever allow another to touch, fondle or fuck it, you will pay a price you cannot imagine. Is that clear?'

‘Yes…' Allura sobbed. ‘Yes…'

‘Yes, husband,' he amended. ‘The practice will do you good.'

‘Yes,
husband
.' She tried to dampen the inevitable sarcasm.

‘Your body is pledged to me,' he repeated. ‘I will share it with no other.'

She wriggled against his fingers, slick and aroused. ‘Yes, husband.'

‘You'd like to be fucked, wouldn't you?'

‘N-no,' she lied, afraid to demean herself in front of the slave.

The baron smacked her with his hand. ‘No wife of mine will be permitted to lie.'

Allura groaned, her cheek against the cushion, the blood rushing to her head. ‘Yes, I want it, oh, I need it.'

‘Well you shan't have it.' He used her hair once more as a handle, lifting her upright. ‘What you will have is a little lesson in humility. I want you to crawl to the bed and get on it, facing me, on all fours.'

Tears formed in Allura's eyes, and not merely from the pain in her scalp; what he was about to make her do in front of her slave would mortify her.

‘Is there a problem?' He cocked his arm, fully prepared to slap her.

‘No, there's no problem.' Allura simply could not fight anymore. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. The man was too big, too strong and too deviant, and he had far too much ability to make her body betray her. By his will he had reduced her to this, winning the battle of clothing, of posture, of obedience.

If only the little bitch did not have to be there to witness her submission. Allura looked down to the floor. The slave Veeta was, to all intents and purposes, her equal now. Both girls were naked; both were the same age, and both sex objects in the presence of a strong, lustful male. Which would he choose, she wondered, if he could have only one? The thought made her physically ill. The baron could go to the devil and take the little bitch with him.

Allura simpered as the marble pressed against her knees. It was so hard.

‘Do not make me wait,' Montreico warned.

She went down the rest of the way, onto her palms, and quickly, anxious to get this over with, she began to crawl.

‘Are you a good slave, Veeta?' asked Montreico, as Allura reached her place of shame on the bed.

‘I try, master.'

‘A good answer,' he approved. ‘Come closer.'

Allura felt a sharp stab of jealousy as the dark-haired girl was allowed to take her place, standing directly in front of him, looking up into his eyes.

‘Do I frighten you?'

‘Yes, master.'

‘Why?' he wanted to know, brushing back strands of hair from her brow.

‘Because master is strong and very strict.'

‘But why be afraid? If you are a good slave you will never fall afoul of me.'

‘No slave is perfect, master. There is reason enough for us all to take beatings.'