Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 21

Something hard and cool nudged against her drenched sex. She moaned amid the sobs.

"Is that it, Master? I...I lost count a while ago..."

Harrum did not answer, only rubbing that something over her sex. Pleasure surged immediately, the searing pain adding a twist to it. His other hand wrapped around her throat. She grunted, that firm grip settling into place, worsening the bruise already ringing her neck.

The rush of asphyxiation was unnecessary. She came well before it appeared, gurgling pitifully, shuddering at the euphoric waves. Even that glorious bliss was unable to shoo away the pain. Her eyes fluttered, the combination of agony and ecstasy confounding her mind to the point of thoughtlessness.

And then he stepped back from her, that something moving away from her sex as well.

The chain rattled. She felt him grab the manacle. With a quick click, he opened it, freeing her hands. The sudden release dropped her towards the ground, but he stopped her from tumbling into a heap, instead guiding her onto her knees. She hugged onto his leg, sobbing as that controlled fall brought up an intense flash of pain.

"Is that it, Master?"

"I don't know."

She sniffled, hugging his leg tighter.

"Do I have any lashes left?"

"I wasn't keeping count of how many times you made me cum. I just wanted to see how much you could take."

She groaned softly.

Oh gods...he might have given me more...he just wanted to test me...

A reckless resolve bubbled up inside her.

I can take more...it hurts...so much...but I want to take more...

"I can take more...let me take more for you, please..."

"By Kulzis," came a growl from another orc.

"This one won't be satisfied until she's whipped raw," someone else commented.

"She already is," Nagasa drawled.

"Please, Master...I can take more, I swear it..."

"No need," Harrum growled. "You've taken plenty."

"Please..."

He tugged at the leash, forcing her back to arch, a strained gasp spilling from her, tears springing up from the severe pain that movement provoked.

"Stop your whining."

She sniffled again but managed to keep quiet otherwise.

He crouched then and lifted her into his arms, those strong hands meeting her battered backside. She whimpered, nuzzling against his chest.

The blindfold was lifted over her eyes. She peeked up to see him staring down at her, a begrudging appreciation on that usually grumpy face.

"I must say," Nagasa spoke up from nearby, "she is certainly hardier than she looks."

"It's not hardiness," Harrum told him. "It's depravity."

"Whatever it is," another orc cut in, "it's quite impressive."

Harrum began to walk. His strides jostled her, the pain flaring, more tears blurring her vision.

"Hope to see you again soon, princess," Nagasa called out.

Others offered similar sentiments, making her smile amid her sobs.

Harrum kept walking, coming out of the pit.

Is he going to carry me back to the castle? How romantic...

But just outside the pit, he stopped, and leaned forward. She caught sight of the top of a carriage before he placed her inside it, carefully setting her atop a lush softness. The lashes across her backside met that softness, yet more tears springing from her eyes even from lying atop the delicate fabric.

"Stay on your side," he told her.

She turned over halfway, groaning from the pain of that effort.

His footsteps sounded around the carriage, and then she heard a whinny from the front.

The carriage lurched into a start, drawing another groan from her.

As it trundled along, the pain flaring at every little bump, she reached back and caressed over those lashes. That motion made her wince, and the light touch of a few fingers made her suck in a breath. The flesh of her back, ass, and thighs was tortured and tender, burning hotter from that light touch despite how carefully she catalogued the damage.

Amid the harsh agony, however, came satisfaction.

I took all the lashes he gave me. By the gods, it hurts so much...but I took them all. I didn't have to, but I did. This pain is my lot...I accepted it, submitted to it just like I did to him...it's the price of being a good slave.

She dipped the fingers of her other hand in between her thighs to the folds of her sex. The pain had pushed past the point of delight, but that satisfaction, and the rush of such wholehearted submission, were potent, formidable, powerful emotions. Those fingers were tentative. Pain sprung up from her occasional twitching as the pleasure built quickly. Soon, she reached climax, caught between agony and ecstasy.

By the time the carriage stopped, she had reached a few more climaxes and was close to yet another.

Footsteps trudged towards the back of the carriage.

"The depth of your depravity is admittedly impressive," Harrum said drily.

She peeked over her shoulder, whimpering from the resultant pain.

"Stop," he growled.

She whimpered again, this time from that order, but obeyed immediately.

He took her back into his arms, and set off, his strides jostling her again, the lingering pleasure unable to soothe the agony wracking her. Thanks to that combination, she barely paid attention to their path.

Finally, he set her on another soft surface, easing her onto her stomach.

She glanced around, seeing that they were back in his room, with her on the bed.

He took off her slippers, her freed toes wiggling, and then he joined her on the bed, holding a small jar of elder salve, dipping a few fingers in.

His hand met the battered flesh of her back, smearing the first dollops of elder salve across it, the pain flaring from that touch.

The pain kept flaring as he massaged those dollops, and then more, into the lashes. She sobbed weakly, forcing herself to stay still.

By the gods, it hurts so much...I didn't have to take it, but I did...the price of being a good slave...I will do my best to savor it while it lasts.

The rubdown was thorough. He made sure to reach all over, from the highest lashes to the lowest. Her brutalized body throbbed throughout from his firm handling, and once he finished, throbbed still, the first application of elder salve only starting up the healing process.

It'll take a little while to heal from this...but it's so very worth it...

Harrum slipped off the bed and came back with a small cup.

"Drink this."

She peeked into it, seeing a light brown liquid.

"What is it?"

"It will help numb the pain."

She glanced back up at him.

"But I don't want to numb the pain. It reminds me that I've been a good slave."

He blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly, curling his lip.

"Drink it. Otherwise you won't be able to sleep, and I'll have to listen to your whining all fucking night."

He tilted the cup forward, and she drank, the taste bittersweet.

After putting the cup on the table and puttering around the room for a minute or so, he returned to the bed. She crawled closer, nuzzling up to him. His arm wrapped around her to pull her closer, making her suck in a sharp breath as it met those fresh whipcracks. She rested her head on his chest, that sharp breath settling into a sigh.

The pain faded into a dull misery, enough for her to notice but lessened considerably from that harsh agony. She yawned, sleep starting to beckon.

Can't believe it's been four days already...come the morning, I'll go back to being a princess...

"Master?" she murmured, a sudden idea arising.

"Yes?"

"I know my service ends tomorrow, but...can I be your slave for a few more days?"

He grunted noncommittally.

"I've enjoyed myself," she continued, running a hand across his chest. "And would like to keep enjoying myself."

"And what if I were to bring you back to that pit tomorrow and whip you some more?"

"That would be your right as my master."

His eyebrows arched.

"We would have to clear it with King Victorin, since he might have some outings or other things planned for me. But if he were to agree..."

Harrum stared back at her, that begrudging appreciation reappearing.

"Very well then. Speak to him in the morning and see what he says. If he agrees, you'll be my slave for a few more days."

She cooed, kissing adoringly at his chest.

I really hope he agrees...

"I have really enjoyed being your slave."

"And I have enjoyed abusing you."

She giggled, kissing at his chest again.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

His arm slid down her back, his hand palming her ass. Thanks to that numbing drink, she felt only a mild throb from that assertive grip.

"Can I ask you a question?" she spoke up again after a few seconds.

"You just did," he replied gruffly.

"Can I ask another one, then?"

His hand squeezed at her ass, bringing up another mild throb.

"Fine."

"You've seemed to dislike me since the first time we met. And you enjoy abusing me so much. Did I do something, or do you not like humans?"

He raised an eyebrow. There was a brief hesitation, his mouth opening to answer, but then annoyance settled into his expression.

"I've always been a vicious bastard. It's how I am. If you're looking for a story or something to sympathize with, look elsewhere."

"Fair enough. I was just wondering."

"Stop talking. You need to rest. Especially if the king agrees to let you be my slave for a few more days. Don't think I'd take it easy on you because of what you weathered tonight."

"I'm yours to abuse, Master."

"Stop talking and go to sleep."

"Shouldn't I go out to the balcony? Slaves don't sleep on the bed."

"I'm making an exception for tonight."

She cooed happily, nuzzling against him.

"I'll sleep so much better cuddled up to you..."

"Stop fucking talking and go to sleep."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Akeza smirked at Gwennalyn as she padded up to the door, wincing slightly every few steps.

"Hello there, Harrum's slave," he joked, knocking on the door.

"Hello, Akeza..."

"Enter!" King Victorin called from inside the room.

Akeza opened the door, and she slipped inside.

The king glanced up from his desk, where several papers were spread out.

"Back to being a princess? I'm sure you had yourself a wonderful few days."

She nodded.

"I did. And actually...I wanted to ask if you had anything planned for me soon. Because I would like to be Harrum's slave for a few more days."

He leaned back in his chair, interest appearing on his face.

"Take off your dress."

She raised an eyebrow, but quickly left herself naked save for slippers, the stubborn pain at her back making her wince.

"Turn around."

Several seconds of silence followed after she did.

Harrum had rubbed her down with two more coats of elder salve, one in the middle of the night after she had woken up whimpering from the searing throbs, the numbing drink worn off, and another an hour or so ago, after she had woken up for the day. Drinking another cup of that numbing drink after both rubdowns had also helped greatly. The walk here had been slow, since Harrum had warned her that the numbing drink worked best when one was relaxing. She had taken her time, mostly feeling sore but occasionally having to endure a sharper flash of pain. The pride that came with those flashes, in having taken such harsh treatment willingly and submissively, was potent, however, helping her weather them.

"That must hurt," the king finally commented drily.

"It does. But it reminds me that I was a good slave. And it will heal."

"Thank the gods for elder salve."

"Indeed."

"And you enjoyed it?"

She turned back around, wincing slightly, and nodded.

"It was the worst pain I'd ever felt in my life. But I took it...endured it...I'm still enduring it."

A hand crept over her stomach as she thought back to those cruel whipcracks.

"It wasn't even entirely about the pain, really...just being a good slave. Taking what he gave."

That hand found her slit, caressing over those folds.

"Princess," the king said in a warning voice.

The stern tone jerked her from that reverie, and she smiled apologetically.

"I was told you screamed and sobbed," he continued, less stern and more curious. "But that you begged for more."

She blinked in surprise.

"How did you..."

The question trailed off as he chuckled.

"There is not much of importance that happens in my kingdom that I am not aware of. Especially when it involves the daughter of a close ally, who is currently under my care."

She nodded in understanding.

"I would've thought Harrum would be smarter. I expected him to be vicious, but it's one thing to test your limits, and another to risk doing real damage to you."

"But it will heal..."

"True. It will take longer to heal than your usual bruises and aches, but it will heal. And there will thankfully be no lasting marks. Again, thank the gods for elder salve."

"And he did give me the chance to stop."

"That's also true. But he still should not have whipped you quite as much as he did. It was irresponsible. You may have been playing as his slave, but you were still a princess."

She nodded again, this time ceding to his point.

"I must admit that I had thought you might tire of orcs during your time with us. That whatever novelty there might have been would have worn off. But here you are, with just a few weeks of your stay remaining..."

Don't remind me...

"And yet your desire for orcs has not waned at all. If anything, it's increased."

She smiled.

"I can't help it. Nor would I want to. Being used by big, strong orcs...I love it..."

He chuckled again.

"Alright then, princess. You can be Harrum's slave for today and tomorrow."

Her smile grew wider.

"But no whipping."

Her smile dimmed very slightly, but the thought of simply being fucked and degraded was more than enough to excite her.

"At least until your back fully heals."

"Thank you. I do appreciate it."

"You're very welcome."

Images of what Harrum might do to her flashed through her mind.

I wonder if he will bring me back to that pit to serve the warriors again...

"Princess," the king spoke up, drawing her attention.

"Yes?" she asked distractedly, a hand creeping down over her stomach again.

"You can put your dress back on now."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Gwennalyn winced at a small twinge, her thighs rubbing together mindlessly from that reminder of her service to Harrum. Those lashes were almost entirely healed, and thanks to copious applications of elder salve and various other herbal applications, the last evidence of her wholehearted submission to that agony were faint marks here and there. But every so often, a dull throb cropped up, even when she was on her stomach, a position she had taken to regularly over the past few days to help that damage heal.

A knock came at the door to her chambers.

Another twinge popped up as she eased herself to her feet.

Yogg was outside her door.

"The king would like to see you."

She made to slip past him, but he held a hand up.

"Take the leash off."

She pouted, running a few fingers over the faded, stained, musky strip of fabric tied around her neck.

Sir Hathwell must be back. It wouldn't do for him to see me wearing a leash.

She resignedly untied the leash, feeling a surge of disappointment with her neck thus unencumbered, but only draped it over the door handle.

"You're going to keep it?" Yogg asked, smirking in amusement.

"Oh yes...it's a memento. Like the lashes, except I can keep the leash."

He chuckled.

"Go get a scarf too."

She bit her lip, running a few fingers now over the bruise still etched on her neck, another leftover sign of her service to Harrum, this one persistent.

It wouldn't do for Sir Hathwell to see a bruise on my neck either...

She quickly found a scarf and wrapped it tightly around her neck.

It's not a leash, but at least it can feel like one...

"So," Yogg began as they set off, "when can we expect our whore back?"

"Well, the king told me relax and lie low for a few days to let myself heal fully. I feel fine now, so maybe later today or tomorrow...I have certainly missed it."

"And we've missed you."

"So sweet..."

The trip to the king's receiving room was short. In no time, she was back in front of that door.

Yogg knocked.

"Enter!"

He opened the door to let her slip inside.

The king was standing behind his desk, interest again on his face.

Sitting across from him, nervousness on his face, was Lucien.