Girls Got Rythm

Her hand wanders to beneath the pair of pillows on the bed. She draws a long and wickedly black leather riding crop. A sharp crack fills the air as she brings it down on Maximus' ass. He lets out no noise but is suddenly broken from her spell.

"Be thankful you only feel the sting of my crop once pet. Act out again in that measure and I'll lash you to the boards and whip you until that muscular back is red with welts."

Her hand latches onto the top of his scalp, sending sweaty strands of yellow hair into his face.

"You've proven that curs know how to eat. Let's see if your eyes are as big as your stomach cur." She pushes him down, back toward her still gleaming pussy.

He knows exactly what to do and begins trailing kisses down her neck and collarbones. His still bound hands dangle inches away from his turgid manhood as he steadies himself on his knees. Licks race down the tops of her breasts to where he takes her nipple into his mouth. Suckling at it, and stimulating the apex with his tongue he looks up to her, expecting to see her writhing in orgasmic joy.

Rather, her trained, cold eyes glower at him with the same lustful look burning behind the oceans of her irises. He sees her hand move down, positioning the riding crop so that she may stimulate her dripping pussy with the shaft of the tool.

He is deep in prayer, her body is a temple. Every lick and kiss is a nonverbal hymnal as he tickles the winged tattoos that adorn her pubic mound.

The sharp leather crack of her riding crop resounded off his butt three times in quick succession. The sharp sting, causing his tongue to only lose tempo once.

"Stop teasing me pet. Give your mistress what she wants."

He makes his tongue wide and flat as starts just above her anus and licks tenderly to her clitoris. Slow, deliberate laps as he drags his tongue gently up her pussy. She begins to coo and lets out little gasps and moans every time he nears the top and her ever engorging clit.

The riding crop smacks sharply against his reddening flesh three more times. "Faster pet, faster. Lick! Lick!" she gasps out desperately.

He rapidly begins licking her up and down, the tongue diving deeper and deeper into her pussy. Head and shoulders bob in rhythm to the bucking of her hips. She begins giving him rapid light slaps on the butt as she nears her crescendo.

"Yes, yes, good boy. Good pet, good slut. Yes, yes."

His tongue turns into a spear as he dives for her swollen clit, teasing and tonguing the sensitive bud with all his might.

"Yes, yes, that's a good boy. Oh you're such a good boy." Her screams reach a new octave as she swells into her orgasm. Waves of pleasure ripple through her as she shakes from the orgasmic aftershocks.

He scurries once again to her side, positioning his head so that he may easily access the tender flesh between her earlobe and collarbone. Her muscled arm wraps around his shoulders and draw him in close as her other hand goes to his neck. Lifting him up to her lips once more she tastes her juices on him, and gazes half lidded into his eyes.

"I suppose that earned you one night warming my bed, cur. Know that in three days we will be at the great city of Aswan, there I will watch you sold off to some lucky woman." Trained hands went to his genitals, squeezing cock and balls together. "I intend to get a high price for such a...pleasing specimen as yourself. Perhaps you'll make a fair gladiator slave for the colosseum, perhaps a galley will have you as a rowing slave, maybe some nouveau riche noblewoman will take pity on you for a harem slave.

Her fingers released him, allowing the blood to flow back into blueing flesh. "I know not where you'll be at the end of our journey, but I know I can make the next three days...more pleasurable for you."

Strong fingers stroked at the short and curly hairs that rose up above his penis. She intertwined her fingers into them gently.

"Obey my every desire, my every wish, and perform well. Perhaps you'll earn a treat. Disobey me and well...undamaged slaves sell for far more." She tugged at his hairs, eliciting a short pained grunt from him.

"Do we have a deal pet?"

Maximus grunted affirmatively in response.

"Good boy. Now your mistress is restless again, lap at my cunt slowly. I want gentle laborious licks until I tell you to stop."

Maximus begrudgingly crawled between his mistresses' legs and began lapping at her pussy as she gently drifted to sleep. He felt her muscles ripple for a final time as she settled into the goosedown mattress.

The night grew long and still as he continued licking mechanically. When Ouralia turned onto her side, Maximus barely managed to evade being caught in the vice-like grip of her thighs. Scurrying to the end of the bed, the mental image of himself as a dog flashed before his eyes. How well trained he was becoming for his new mistresses. How quickly they had squeezed the resistance out of him like so much sticky pre-cum.

A fire burned within Maximus, he would not let himself be cowed so easily. Sneaking off of Ouralia's bed he landed with a panther like grace. His feet made hardly a sound as he eeked the master bedroom door open. Stepping into the farmhouse's commonspace, he could hear two women engaged in a particularly vigorous session of copulation.

"Please Mistress, the whole fist?" He heard someone squeal behind the door to his right. To his left, he saw that whoever was in the last remaining bedroom had left their door ajar.

Maximus' heart thrummed in his chest and he peeked around the corner. If they had simply left their door open and fallen asleep, perhaps he wouldn't be caught. If they had arisen to retrieve another cask of wine or pretty piece of flesh to warm them, perhaps he would be left with only a few scars. Creeping around he saw the sleeping body of a short blonde mercenary. Tangled in their sweat drenched hair he saw four concubines of varying genders, skin tones, and shapes. Each of them snored deeply in contented sexual satisfaction.

Maximus grunted impressedly, shrugged his shoulders and continued on.

Practiced padded feet crept softly across the dining room floor. Each flitting shadow that passed or errant broken twig caused the cur to momentarily freeze. His senses reached out constantly, on high alert of any who might halt his escape. Paranoia proved practical when he heard the whip's tip slicing through the air. He raised his arm in anticipation and let the corded leather wrap itself around him. Then he pulled with all his might and sent his attacker stumbling into the pale moonlight.

The short blonde mercenary narrowly kept their balance, arms flailed for anything to grab onto while her feet hurried to get back under her. Stark naked as the day she was born, Maximus had to appreciate her curvaceous body as she regained her composure and still held onto the whip.

"Well, well, well a runaway battle thrall. That's no good is it, cur?" they took a length of the whip into their other hand and held it taught.

Maximus felt the whip pull away from him slightly. He looked to them, raised one eyebrow and made a noncommittal grunt.

They stalked towards him, hips swaying like a lioness stalking a gazelle in the grass.

"It looks to me we can handle this one of two ways, cur. One, I can tell the captain about your momentary lapse of judgment, she straps you to St Andrew, and we tear up that pretty back with whippings, beatings, or..." their body shuttered as their eyes rolled back momentarily. "Brandings."

Maximus' eyebrows wiggled in rapt confusion and arousal. He gave a similarly toned but soft grunt.

"Two. you indebt yourself to me. Our caravan still has three days before we reach Aswan's gates." They began to wrap the slack length of whip into tight coils in their dominant hand.

"Allow me to take my pleasure, once for four hours before we arrive at the city. I promise not to harm you too badly or kill you, but you will not be the same once I am through. After your labor is completed you will return to simply being a cur, rather than a cur indebted to me." She giggled mockingly. "What do you say, cur? Will you be my pet?"

Maximus looked at the whip still wrapped around his arm, considered his options carefully and grunted affirmatively.

"Splendid." She whispered and the whip uncoiled itself and returned to her hand. "I will be seeing you soon, cur." Pivoting on her heels she flounced back to her room with a giddy skip.

Maximus' eyes bulged as he let out a long breath of relief. Stalking back to his post between Ouralia's thighs, his mind could scarcely forget the sting of the blonde woman's whip.