Kathy & Me Ch. 5

When the Hun has exhausted himself on my body he falls asleep in my arms, but my fear keeps me awake. I have heard stories about what happens to females taken captive by the Huns, and I fear what tomorrow will bring. At first light it becomes clear that those stories were true. From now on we will be the chattels and sexual playthings of cruel owners, doomed to hopeless lives of slavery in the service of our master’s penis.

With the dawn the Huns prepare to travel, and the castle women are now to be a part of their baggage train. We are all gathered from the beds where our conquerors had raped us during the night. We are forced to stand at attention, still naked and shivering in the early morning chill, as wide leather collars with big iron rings are permanently closed around our necks with brass rivets.

We are given sandals for our feet, and animal skin robes for clothing. The robes are small, however, and they only partially hide our nakedness. Mine fully covers only my shoulders, my ass, and a single breast. As I walk my other tit and nipple, and my pubic hair and pussy, are intermittently exposed to whatever barbarian chooses to look. Look they all do, and they taunt me about the whispy blond hair between legs. They shout at me that only a whore would have so little hair on her pussy.

The children were separated from their mothers last night. Now they are taken away down the main road toward Gaul. Those old enough to walk do so. The babes and the those too young to walk are carried in a pair of ox carts. Four of our old women, and a woman still lactating from a recent birth, are sent with them as nannies.

It will be a long hard journey. Few of the babes, and probably less than half of the others will survive the next few weeks. The ones who die will be the lucky ones. Those who live will be sold to the Franks and raised as slaves. The Frankish nobles and knights have a justified reputation for cruelty, and worse is their perverted preferences for young sex partners.

We who remain are women left without hope. Our homes and possessions have been burned. We have been mauled, beaten and raped. Those of us who resisted their rape have been beaten. Our men are all dead, and our children are gone forever. If we live, we will certainly be enslaved far from our homeland, and subjected to the whims of the cruel masters who own us body and soul.

There is no time to morn, however, as the Huns quickly prepare us for the trail. Our hands are loosely restrained at our sides by short slack ropes tied to still another rope knotted around our waists. A long chain is put through the rings on our collars, and by midday the Huns lead us away..., partially naked, cold, raped, and terrorized..., a long single file of wailing women on their way to Magyar slave markets along the Danube.

Each day we marched like that, chained one behind the other, following the winding foot trail that will take us through dense forests and across the mountains. An hour before nightfall every day the Huns make camp. Each woman is taken off the chain and distributed to the warrior who claimed her from the castle wall that first evening. She is his woman now, and it is he who will use her until when we reach the land of the Magyars. It is also he who will profit when she is sold there.

Rarely, a Hun may lend his woman to a comrade who does not have one of his own, or more often, he may trade or rent her out for a night or two. Otherwise, however, we each serve our individual man as cook, washer woman and servant, but most of all, we each service our man’s cock as his whore.

Those of us who at first obstinately refused submission to a Hun penis are tied to a post and beaten until they beg their owner to fuck them. That surrender does not take long. By the end of the second night even the most stubborn captive has realized the inevitability of her slavery, and spreads her legs quickly, if not willingly, whenever told to do so. The Huns see to it that we do not forget how terrible that whip is. They make us all watch whenever one of our sisters is flogged for disobedience.

Those who are old or sick quickly die. Most of us, however, survive and begin to adapt. Gradually we learn to accept our servitude, and despite this hard harsh life, we even grow stronger with a new understanding of our sexuality. The nights are cold, and the beds and bodies of our Hun captors are warm. They have large cocks and they use them well. What began as rape becomes familiar, then sensuous, and finally addictive.

I must have been born to be a concubine. Not only did I never fight against my Hun master, even on that first terrible night, I was among the very first to willingly, even joyfully, acknowledge his right to my body. It was only the second night of my captivity when the first great orgasm of my life washed over me in a huge wave. I had often heard the castle women talk of being pleasured by a man, but I was unprepared for this explosion in my soul. My loins melted to mush, and in my ecstasy I gave myself absolutely to my Hun, even begging him to fuck me again and again with his wonderful cock. Thereafter, I was his devoted cunt slave, submissive always to the long male shaft that hung between his legs. Night after night, I pleasured him..., and myself..., until like a woman dancing the fertility ritual around the May Pole, his erection became the central pivot to my life.

Obsessed with the prick of this Hun, I freely and gladly offered him my body. I cared not which of my holes he desired to use, only that he would take me in one of them. As we marched along on our journey I thought only of what he my Hun master would do to me when night came. I begged him so often to fuck me that he called me a nuisance, and threatened to hang me from a tree limb and whip me if I didn’t stop. I knew he was not serious. He sometimes beat me for his pleasure, but he certainly didn’t want me to stop begging for his dick. He enjoyed my body as much as I did his, and he was always pleased by my eager submission to his every desire.

Indeed, he was proud of how long and how often fucked me, and his stamina was indeed truly remarkable. I had heard stories of how adept Hunnish men are at pleasing a woman, and certainly mine has proved every one of them true. I am also fortunate that my Hun keeps me for himself, never once sending me to the bed of a stranger. At every dawn I show my gratitude to him by closing my lips tightly around his penis and bobbing my head feverishly until his seed fills my mouth. I am honored to swallow every drop of this daily gift.

I have come to dread the day when our journey will end. I know my Hun will sell me in some dirty slave market, and return to the wife who waits for him. How I envy that wife. I can hardly bear to think of the day when I will never again enjoy his great prick, and I am terrified at the thought of the unknown man who will be my new owner..., and of his whip.

The weeks pass and we finally arrive at a Magyar town where slaves are traded. On the day of our arrival I am delivered to the slave merchants to displayed nude in the flesh market where captives are bought and sold. The blond hair on my head and between my thighs assures my Hun owner a good price for me, but first the prospective buyers must examine the merchandise. They yank open my mouth and count my teeth. Harsh uncaring hands feel my legs and arms, and squeeze my breasts and pull at my nipples. Their fingers probe my pussy and ass, and test my clit.

I know perfectly well the reason for their interest in my private parts, and what services I will be expected to perform for my new owner, whomever he may be. I decide that if my future is to be a female pleasure slave, then I must do whatever I can to improve my prospects. Hoping for the best, I watch for those who I think might be gentle masters with big cocks, and I parade myself and my sex shamelessly before them.

At long last, it was my turn to be sold. I standd naked on the block, my arms bound behind my back, my neck in a noose tied snugly to a beam overhead to insure that I can not slouch or cower. The auctioneer whips my legs to make me dance. My young full breasts jiggle and bounce as I jerk my legs away from the lash.

The bidders are encouraged by my sexy antics, and my price goes up and up. I hold my breath as the final offer is made. The hammer falls...! it is all over at last..., I have a new owner. Who will he be? Will he be kind and rich, and make me the prize of his harem, or will he be the cruel pimp of a whorehouse who expects to rent my poor pussy to a dozen cocks and more every sun down to sun up?

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But no, all of this is just a nightmare. I shudder as I return to the present, and reality allows me to escape from the uncertain fate my imagination created for me. Thank God! In this life at least, I am not the helpless captive of some victorious savage, a slave woman raped and then offered for sale to the highest bidder.

Why would I have such a frightful fantasy? Steve Hamilton must be the cause. After all, what is he but Hun in a business suit? Only a barbarian would have demanded that a woman serve his prick in the brutal way Steve brought me to heel this evening. It must be my submission to Hamilton the Hun that has shocked me into imagining myself in such hopeless bondage.

Actually, I am safe in bed with my husband who loves me. True, I lay in his bed in a posture of servitude unmatched in the worst of my dreams. Even my Hun did not put his cock in my mouth and then chain my face to his crotch. Still, Tim won’t lead me away and sell me at auction when morning comes. Or, at least I don’t think he will. My world has changed so, how can I be sure? Doubt races across my mind. Perhaps.., perhaps, I should try harder to pleasure my husband so that he will prize my body and keep me as his, even if that means my head sometimes will be chained between his legs.

That bit of anxiety brought my attention back to the flaccid penis in my mouth. Kathy’s taste is still on it, and I am reminded once more of my dark complicated friend. How lovely and sexy she was last night. How horny she must have been to have ridden Tim’s penis in such a frenzy. How wet and pungent she must have been that I can still taste her. How she must have pleasured my dear Tim..., but..., another uncomfortable possibility flashes across my mind. Did my Tim enjoy her pussy and tits more than he does mine? Were her lips the sweeter pair when wrapped around his prick?

Quickly, I buried that thought under the more pleasant one of Kathy’s flavor on my tongue. Kathy made love to me for the first time last night. I had always known it was inevitable that Steve and Tim would push us to that. I had tried hard to prepare myself, but I had never had a lesbian experience, and before this night, I was apprehensive..., all the more so because it would be Kathy’s tongue on my cunt.

I kept telling myself, it will be all right. This is my best friend, and we know each others bodies well. As girls we wrestled in our bathing suits, and I can remember a slumber party when we did so clad only in bra and panties. The feel of her soft body under that scanty nylon remains with me still. We have slept together, bathed together, and once even rouged each others nipples as a high school prank. I have always loved Kathy. Could I now get off on her tongue in my pussy? Would she find me as sweet as I had earlier found her?

The night proved that I should not have been concerned. Kathy’s talented tongue brought me to shattering orgasms, and I responded in kind. As we were commanded, we passionately French kissed and rubbed our bodies together, tit to tit, pussy to pussy. We explored each other’s cunt with our fingers, and nibbled at each others clit with our lips. The men wanted to see us in a 69, and Kathy and I were more than happy to oblige. Her pussy did taste so sweet.

Perhaps the best of all came when Kathy sat between my spread legs so that we could rub our clits together, and at the same time stroke the other’s breasts and nipples. We were given a double headed dildo, and while we were still pussy to pussy we joyously pumped ourselves to mutual orgasms on that wonderful plastic cock. It was the men who finally ended our play. I think they felt threatened by how much we were enjoying each other.

About the time I was first caught up in my fantasy about being the captive of the Huns, however, I began to lose touch with reality generally. My memory of what Steve did to me for the rest of the evening is sketchy at best. I do remember that I was briefly laid across the arm of our big leather couch where Steve whipped the backs my thighs with a thin cane. God, couldn’t forget that, I hurt so.

I promised him anything he wanted if only he would stop. I would give him of the best blow job of his life, and after his blow job, I told him he could fuck my ass. I drew explicit verbal pictures of how I would crawl to him on my elbows, dragging my tits on the rug as I came. I described how I would kneel with my butt in the air, my shoulders on the floor, and how I would then reach back with my hands and spread my ass cheeks, holding them open for him while he fucked my butt hole.

Knowing Steve as I do, I am sure he made me keep my promises exactly as I had described them, but I have a specific recollection of only disconnected bits and pieces. I can remember how hard it was not to gag as I tried to deep throat his giant penis as I blew him, and out of the haze I can see myself face down on into the rug with my ass in the air. Just as I had promised, my arms are reaching back to open my ass hole in order that Steve might force his giant dick deep into my bowel. And oh yes! I also remember the pain. No woman could forget being butt fucked by a cock that size.

Tim is beginning to swell a little in my mouth now. Perhaps when he awakes he will slide his prick into my still wet and hungry pussy for a long delightful morning fuck. I have adjusted some to the discomfort of my position half on and half off the bed, and the thought of Tim’s cock pleasuring me with the dawn warms me and makes me drowsy..., perhaps if I just close my eyes I will drop off to sleep.........

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As I drift off, my sensuous dream of ancient slavery closes over me like a great ocean tide. My fantasy returns, and I wander back through time and space to the medieval town on the Danube where I have just been auctioned off as a cunt slave. Yes, I can see myself clearly..., my Hun come in to collect my purchase price, and he squeezes my breast and feels my pussy one last time before he leaves me.

The auctioneer prepares my bill of sale and gives it to a big bearded Magyar dressed in a white Roman style robe that would be worn only by someone rich and important. My new owner says not a word to me as his guards shackle my wrists and ankles in chains. The Magyar takes me over then and leads me like a cow down the street at the end of a light leather leash painfully clipped to my nipples.

I am locked away in a prison wagon with another woman the Magyar has bought at the sale. I hear our owner tell the captain of his guards that his business here is finished and that we will all return to his castle manor. For two weeks that hellish cart jolts its way over the ruts and pot holes of a very bad mountain road. At each stop, my sister slave and I are taken from our cage to relieve ourselves, and in the evening we are allowed to bathe in an icy mountain stream if one is near our camp. Otherwise we remain locked in our little mobile prison, still naked and chained hand and foot.

Neither our owner nor his guards take their pleasure from us during our journey. I am so horny I could die. After my Hun master, I am accustomed to having a cock in my pussy at least twice every day. For all those days we bounce along on this seemingly endless road, I wonder over and over, who is this new master who ignores my cunt? Why does he ignore me? Surely he will fuck me eventually, or why else did he pay so much gold for me? When then will he fuck me? Will he fuck me often? Does he have a big cock?

To Be Continued...