The Captive Flesh (25 page)

‘We've had our fun, lads. Best leave her to the common folk now. They know how to treat a rebellious slave,' the Captain of the Guard had chuckled as he planted a last kiss on her trembling mouth.

He winked at her before he walked away and she felt a brief flare of warmth at the kindness. The Captain joined the other guards who were drinking from a
wineskin. Marietta felt sure that Kasim had not sanctioned that, but perhaps he did not care if they drank. Like he did not care whether the guards thrust their hard cocks into her, grasped her hips with greedy hands, and worked her back and forth for their pleasure alone.

But they had not all done that. Only one had claimed her in that way.

She shifted on the hard floor, aching slightly in her leg and stomach muscles. Despite her fears of what was to come she felt an inner languor. It was a good feeling. All the pent-up feelings of sexual arousal, those that lingered even after Gabriel had pleasured her so soundly, had left her now.

It was no surprise that the guards had taken advantage of her; she expected it. But she felt ashamed at the eager way she had responded to them.

‘This is what the farmers would like to do to you,' they had grinned as they felt her breasts and bottom.

She twisted away at first, getting tangled in the trailing chains. Her wrists were attached to the two wooden posts, the chains left long deliberately. Seeing this, the guards took full advantage. They made her kneel, then lie on her back, admiring her from all angles. Then she was ordered to stand with her hips thrust forward and her knees spread so that they could admire her fleece. Marietta's cheeks flamed as she turned round and round, pushing out breasts and buttocks, sucking in her stomach, arching her back, and spreading her legs wide for their hungry gaze.

They continued to stroke her and kiss her, standing around her in an admiring half circle. One of them, glancing at the Captain for permission, ordered her to kneel in front of him. Then he took out his cock and
began stroking himself. His face was lit by anticipation. Grinning at the others he said:

‘Now this pampered beauty will show us all what she can do with her pretty mouth. Aye, and her hands. Are not the harem women taught the many ways to draw out pleasure?'

Marietta had been expecting this. She bent her head and nodded, beginning to suck obediently on the guard's cock-tip, flicking her tongue around the ridge and over the tiny mouth. Then she drew the shaft right into her mouth. Holding the base with one hand she slid her mouth expertly up and down. The guard was so excited by her beauty and willingness that he climaxed after only a few moments. The next guard she pleasured with her hands. He trembled, not meeting her eyes as she brought him to a shuddering peak. The others pressed close, awaiting their turn.

All but one of the guards were young and, despite their show of bravado, unsure of themselves. She pleasured them all. Their freshness and the almost deferential way they treated her excited her in a strange way. So did the fact that they did not care about her pleasure. They cared only about themselves. Ah, the selfishness of the young. Their hard aroused maleness, their eagerness, the different shapes and thickness of their cocks, their voices, their smells – all of these things drew an unbidden response from her.

The Captain, a strongly built man of middle years, watched the proceedings with narrowed eyes. He did not join in. He was handsome, with his square chiselled features and thick brown hair cut closely to his skull. When the others were finished he drew near and loosened his belt. She expected to pleasure him in the same way, but he had other plans. A wooden pot
appeared from the folds of his cloak. When he opened the pot she smelt the faint scent of harness polish.

Scooping up a generous pat of grease, the Captain reached between Marietta's legs. He smeared the grease all over her flesh-lips and up her bottom crease. The fat was thick and sticky at first but it felt cool as he rubbed it into her folds, the thickness of it dragging slightly against her flesh. As it grew warm it liquefied, turning the whole of her sex slickly wet, dripping down both thighs. His soldier's hands moved over her flesh-lips, opening, stroking and pinching gently. Her pubic curls were clotted with the grease. The Captain tickled and pulled at them, twisting them into shiny coils.

It was a crude imitation of the perfumed oiling that was given in the harem. The grease smelt faintly of leather and horse sweat and there was no finesse to the Captain's touch. But the feel of the warm grease dripping down her thighs, the thick fingers that slid up and down her flesh-valley, made her long for the stroking to go on, to become even more intimate. When he inserted one finger into her body she bent her legs and rubbed against his hand.

‘Don't want to hurt the pretty slave, do I, lads?' the Captain grinned. ‘Now, you lot. If you've any juice left over, you'll spill it for sure as you watch this!'

His hands moved over Marietta's body, cupping her breasts, leaving greasy smears on the skin. Her nipples gleamed between his oily fingertips like shiny pink beads. He kissed her, hard. His mouth was hot and tasted of cheap wine. But the kiss was pleasant; his thick lips nibbled at her, his tongue probed her mouth deeply. To Marietta's horror she found herself responding to the man with enthusiasm.

He pressed her backwards, so that she lay flat. She felt the wooden boards against her spine. The long
chains rattled into a heap, one on either side of her body. The Captain knelt between her legs while the others watched enviously, the bulges swelling again at their groins.

‘That's it, girl,' the Captain groaned. ‘Part those knees and let me in.'

Belly pressed to hers, he buried himself to the hilt inside her. Marietta could not help crying out as the rigid shaft slid deliciously into her.

‘Slide forward. That's it. Ah, you're slick as a seal inside there. Feel me all the way up you, eh? I've a fine big staff to pleasure you with. Am I not as good as your master? Shall I make you pulse, my pretty? How'd you like that, eh?'

Though the eyes of the other guards watched her closely, she writhed and moaned against the Captain. He reached between her legs and rubbed at her clitoris with the pad of his big thumb. The caress was scarcely gentle but it aroused her strongly. He stroked her in time with his thrusting. As he pushed in he pressed down on to her bud, smoothing the flesh-hood towards her greased opening. When he drew out he exerted an upward pressure, so that her bud slipped free of the greased hood and rubbed against his calloused thumb.

She felt hot and slippery from the grease and her own moisture. The thick cock felt good. Almost as good, she realised, as Gabriel's had. It felt good when the Captain drew his cock right out of her and rubbed it up the length of her greased valley, playing the swollen tip over and over her slick bud. It was more than good when he slid back inside her, pumping his hips in a fast and shallow motion, so that the big head nudged at the neck of her womb.

She had not known, until Gabriel, how wonderful it was to be filled by hard flesh. To feel how strong men
trembled with their desire. The Captain groaned, burying his face between her breasts, and his greasy hands clutched and slipped at her waist. His hardness slipped smoothly in and out. She rose to meet it, straining to draw him in ever more deeply. His thumb rubbed at her in that same roughly knowing way. And it did not matter that he had forced his will on her. She forgave him. She was filled by the hot sensation of bearing down, of giving herself to this man. She felt glad of the weakness he now drew out from her – a reflection of his own. It seemed a fair exchange for the pleasure. The Captain sighed and paused, holding himself in waiting.

And then – within the workings of her flesh, the feeling of becoming liquid, the gathering and concentrating of pure pleasure – her mind, for a moment, became razor sharp. Marietta came upon a sudden truth: there was a weakness in men when they thrust into a woman. Some could not admit to this, it seemed. Rather they hid the fact behind a show of power, exerting control over the woman. This was why Kasim had denied himself the pleasure of entering her. This was why he had not let her share his bed. He had not allowed her to sleeve herself around his shaft – as she now realised she had been longing to do.

Kasim was afraid. Afraid that he would lose part of himself if he gave in to that weakness.

And she had thought that Kasim cared nothing for her as a person. That he desired only to torment her as his newest slave. She had been wrong. For did he not desire her strongly? Leyla had told her so. Gabriel had even commented on it. Others had seen the truth before she. Here was the source of the shift in power which she had perceived and been confused by. It was so simple really. The more enamoured of a woman
Kasim was, the more he held himself back. He had worked so hard to keep a part of himself detached, whilst teaching her to relish the act of submission. In that way he could always act the master, remain in control.

She saw through him now. Just wait until I return to the harem, she thought. A new fear possessed her. What if Kasim left her here?

The Captain's beard prickled her skin as he mouthed her neck and breasts. The novelty of the sensation dragged her back to the present. He began thrusting into her again. And now she could not think. All thought, all action, was condensed into the moment. She gave a throaty moan. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around the Captain's broad back and surged forward, rubbing her pubis against his. The Captain crowed with delight at this evidence of her enjoyment. He plunged into her more deeply than before. His hairy sac scraped lightly against her upraised bottom. She whispered in his ear, urging him on.

‘Fill me with your big cock, my Captain. Oh, I am near to breaking now. Feel how hot and wet I am for you. Make me ache with pleasure.'

Her words tipped him over. He began grunting as his thrusts became faster. She gripped his hairy buttocks. The chains trailed across his thighs. Pulling the cheeks apart, she scraped her long nails across his bottom-mouth. The Captain cried out. Marietta shuddered under him, her breath coming in hoarse gasps as her pleasure matched his. She threw back her head, her eyes tight shut, as the wrenching waves flooded her body.

Her inner pulsing seemed to go on and on, stroking the Captain's cock, drawing out the last drops of semen. He jerked with reaction, then lay on her belly, resting
his stubbled cheek on her breasts. The moment was oddly tender.

Marietta closed her eyes and imagined that she lay with Kasim.

Afterwards the Captain cleaned her himself, wiping her sex free of grease and semen with a piece of soft kid leather. He stroked her loose hair with his big rough hands and kissed the corner of her mouth.

‘You've made me very happy, girl. It's been a long time since I felt like that. Don't you worry now. Me and the lads here will make sure these farmers don't hurt you too much. They'll maybe ask the public punisher to spank you a little and make you dance for them. But you can bear that, eh? Here now, you can lay on my cloak until it's full light.'

So now she lay looking up at the lightening sky, waiting for the farmers, the tradesmen, and the torment. Perhaps it would not be so bad, except that she wished they would hurry. There was too much time to think just now.

What of Gabriel? Was he receiving such gentle treatment?

Gabriel was cleaning out the stables.

If he concentrated on his tasks he could sometimes stop thinking about Marietta for whole minutes at a time. His head seemed full of her. He was torn between elation at the memory of their joining and fear at what she must be suffering. His own situation would not be so bad if he knew that she was safe.

He was naked except for the leather pouch at his groin. The straw prickled his legs and feet as he moved between the stalls, sweeping out and replacing soiled straw. His powerful torso was streaked with sweat and dirt and his long blond hair was damp and dull. It
stuck to his forehead and clung to his shoulders in lank strands.

The woman, dressed in the livery of the female guards of the harem, leaned on a stall at the back of the stable, watching Gabriel work. She admired the play of the powerful muscles, the slim waist, and the small tight buttocks bisected by the thin strap of the leather pouch. Even grimy as he was he looked magnificent. She had not desired any man for a long time but this slave woke almost forgotten hungers in her.

‘You. Slave. Come here,' she said.

Gabriel walked towards her, his steps slowing as a group of other female guards sauntered into the stable.

‘Hurry up now,' the women rapped. ‘When I, Sita, give an order, you obey it. At once!'

Gabriel quickened his step. His heart sank. Sita had been the one who took immediate charge of him when Kasim had given him into the care of the guards the previous night. It was she who had ordered him stripped and restrained in the stables. After the luxuries he was accustomed to it was doubly humiliating to have to sleep naked on a pile of straw. A bowl of soup and bread had been his only food, and he had been required to pleasure two of the guards before he could eat. Sita had watched the women use him, laughing as they humiliated and teased him.

At first light Sita had awoken him, then watched hard-eyed while he threw cold water over his body and hair. There was no scented soap, or oil, no comb to pull through his hair. He was given a rough towel to rub himself down with and must cleanse himself as best he could. After he had finished Sita examined his body minutely. He suppressed a shudder as he remembered her cold eyes, her cold thin fingers that probed everywhere, pinching, pressing and opening … and he
remembered how he had writhed with shame as his body responded to her touch.

Sita was tall and thin, with the body of a soldier. It was plain that, despite her apparent lack of desire, she had taken a special liking to him. She could only have come back so soon to torment him. He was surprised. The others had made him pleasure them in many ways, but Sita had remained remote, severe and cold, giving no sign of emotion beyond the snapping of her sharp eyes.