Jem's Slave

"Yes, Sir."

"Excellent." Two other small figures were seen entering the dark room; two other slave girls lit the room for him as he sauntered in, the guards pulling the doors shut. He made his way to stand directly in front of us; not that we dared to look up, but one of his sandals was planted firmly in front of each our faces. He just stood there, assumingly looking down at us. My breath quickened as I listened to the other two slaves bustle around the room, arranging things for him. When they finished, they knelt at his left side, closest to me, the same way we were kneeling. "You're dismissed," he instructed without looking at them. They both reached in to kiss his feet, then scrambled to leave. Their deference to him somehow made me more nervous.

Again, not looking up but able to tell from his legs, he crouched down to sit on his haunches. "Well, my little beauties, kneel up, let's have a look, shall we?"

Nervously, we complied, kneeling with our backs completely straight, knees apart, hands folded on our laps, chins up but eyes downcast that they looked nearly closed. He didn't touch us, but looked us over, and through our lowered lashes we got to do the same to him. I don't know how, but I could just tell he was handsome. He was extremely muscular, which surprised me for royalty (why work hard when someone else can do it for you?), and the hair on his legs suggested he had dark brown head hair and would have to shave often to stay smooth.

He chuckled suddenly, fluid ripples like water over stone. "Have you two seen one another?"

"Yes, Master," "Yes, Master," we each answered in turn.

He reached out with his thumbs and stroked our faces. "Have you two touched each other?"

"No, Master," "No, Master," almost in unison this time.

"Hmm," he sighed, contemplatively. "Stay on your knees, and turn to face one another." We shuffled on the floor into the position he wanted. "Undress each other." We each reached out to slowly, carefully, slide our simple iridescent dresses off one another, pushing the shoulder straps off, than each helping the other squirm out of it from the bottom. He pointed at me.

"Tell me, what does her hair smell like?"

I leaned in closer to the girl across from me, breathing in her scent. "Master, her hair smells like berries," I answered softly just above a whisper.

"Does her skin smell the same?"

I squirmed uncomfortably; what did he want me to do? I leaned in closer to her neck. "No, Master, her skin smells like warm vanilla."

"Does her skin taste like vanilla?"

My chest heaved; was he out of his mind? "Master, I don't..."

"Go ahead, taste it," he interrupted me. "Describe it to me."

The girl across from me knelt rigidly still as I shuffled closer to her. I gently slid my warm tongue across her collarbone, then lowered my eyes again. "Master, her skin tastes salty and sweet."

"Hmm...how lovely. What do her breasts taste like?" I nearly choked on a sob. I knew I was going to perform sexually for him, but never, EVER have I had to do this with a woman. I lowered my head to take a breast in my mouth. I licked over the surface, then enclosed the nipple in my lips, swirling around it with my tongue. It tasted more plain, slightly rubbery, but I couldn't tell him that; I knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Master, it tastes just as sweet."

A large smile spread across his face, "Good...now tell me what her breast feels like." I hesitated, and he cocked his head sideways a bit. "Oh come on! Feel it, rub it, grab it, tell me how much it weighs, how elastic it is, how much it would swing if I fucked her from behind!... ...I'm curious," he trailed with mischievous innocence.

I cupped both of them and gave him answers to his questions, forbidding my voice to tremble as I described them the best I could. "Very nice," he offered, apparently satisfied. "I want you to describe the rest of her body that way. Go over every inch of her skin, and tell me what it smells like, tastes like, and feels like. Taste, touch is all. I want to know what I'm about to enjoy." He settled on his own knees to make himself more comfortable, then almost gently he ran his fingers through the other girl's hair. "Sit still, little beauty. Don't move; I'd hate to make you cry so soon."

He didn't wait for her nod in response to turn back to me. I slid my hands over her breasts, then down her stomach, down her thighs, all the way to her feet. He watched intently, and his implicit plan was working marvelously: all three of us were extremely aroused. My own thighs were dripping, which he seemed to notice, as I tangled my body around hers to comply with the inspection. She could hardly sit still, squirming, moaning low in her throat in response to my caresses. I couldn't see his face (I'd never dare look at it), but I could tell he was enthralled.

Satisfied I had pleased him, I sat back on my globes again, waiting further instruction.

He cocked his head slightly to the side again. "That's it?"

"Master," I tried, confused, "I believe I described everything to you?"

"Oh come now, you forgot my favorite part. What does her cunt taste like? Go on, don't overlook such a sweet delight."

I sucked in my breath, and lowered my head, trying to hide my disgust as I extended my tongue. I felt his hand caress my hair, "Good girl, get a good taste of that, tell me what I'm going to enjoy about this new cunt I own. What does it taste like?"

"Master," I began, trying to sit up but he held my head there, "It tastes nice, very clean and healthy."

I don't know why, but this made him laugh. "Clean and healthy is good. Does it have a nice scent as well?"

"Yes Master."

"Feel it, put your fingers in side of her. How tight is she?"

The girl closed her eyes tightly and bit her bottom lip, fighting fiercely with herself to maintain her position as I probed her. "She feels tight, Master."

He pointed at the other girl. "Same question. Feel her inside, and describe it to me."

For the first time, the other girl moved, and getting close to me, she placed one hand on my shoulder while the other's fingers slipped into my wetness.

"Master," she said, "she is very wet and smooth, and feels tight inside."

"I like them very wet. Suck on your fingers; how does she taste?"

After sucking, "Very good, Master; sweet even."

"Do you think I'm going to enjoy fucking her?"

She blushed deeply. "Y...yes Master, I think you would enjoy that," she said, head down.

"Will I like fucking her more than fucking you?"

What a question! "I...I hope my Master finds me pleasing as well," she told him.

Without looking at him, I knew his eyes flashed. "That's not what I asked. Who am I going to like fucking more, you or her?"

Her hands fidgeted a moment. "Me, Master."

He tried to stifle laughter as he demanded, "and why is that?"

She fidgeted more, but tried to appear bold, "Because I'm going to try harder to please you."

A terribly wide smile overtook his face, and small chuckles escaped him, try as he may to appear serious about the matter. He turned back to me, "What do you think about what she just said?" I don't know what came over me, but I burned with hatred for the other girl, and glared at her hard. "Master, I don't see anything that makes her more pleasurable than I am."

"Good," he laughed, "I'm glad you're thinking that way, because the two of you are going to play a little game. Come here, come here," he said standing, taking each of us by an arm to help us up. We both winced, having remained kneeling and stiff for such a long time. He guided us each by the arm up the stairs to his bed, made us stand facing it, than sat in between us facing us. He reached out with both hands to stroke our asses as he spoke.

"The three of us are going to have a bit of fun. You're both going to do whatever I tell you, which is going to involve pleasuring me as well as each other. But you two are going to be in a little competition, and I'm going to be the judge. You each need to out-do the other one in terms of who is more pleasurable. The winner of this little contest, I'm going to allow to climax underneath me as I fuck you. The loser..." he pointed to a post with chains on it to the side of his bed, "...is going to get whipped severely by one of my guards for the duration of the winner's fucking. And to make our little game more interesting..." his strong, smooth hands wrapped around us and pulled us onto the bed so we each sat on either side of him, "...you're not going to use your hands. Just your bodies, and your tongues." I felt my wrists pushed together behind my back before I heard/felt the cold metal of manacles tightening on my wrists. I mildly pulled at them to gain a sense of my limits as he placed a set of manacles on her.

He smiled as panic overtook our faces. We pulled at our bonds, and our eyes couldn't stop wandering to the whipping post. Why would he do this? We both were going to try our hardest to please him, why would he hurt one of us for that? Then the cocky son-of-a-bitch laced his hands behind his head and leaned back on the bed. For the first time, we were both sitting higher than him, so even looking down, we could make out small features of his head: short, choppy brown hair, an attractive face and jaw line, and was indeed clean-shaven. I couldn't see his eyes; from what I understand, I never want to.

"What are you waiting for? Time's ticking away for you to impress me."

Almost scrambling, we each had to fight the urge to hurt him or one another in our zeal to win. We started undressing him with our teeth, trying to be as seductive as possible. Soon, all three of us were naked and rolling over one another.

We were each left to our own skills, but without saying much, he directed our actions. Grabbing a fist full of hair, he'd shove one of our mouths over his cock, and pulled the other one to straddle him, drooping her breasts in his face. He seemed to love sucking on nipples; every position he moved us to he seemed to have a nipple in his mouth. He also was thrilled watching the two of us suck on each other's breasts. He'd have us kneel on either side of his body and play with our asses as we sucked each other's chests, sliding our faces all over one another.

He knelt over top of us, having a fist in each of our hair, and would alternately push one down on his cock and pull the other one up to suck on her, then push her down and pull the other up. He'd push us towards one another, forcing us to lick each other's cunts, lapping up our respective sweet juices, then forcing us to use those juices from our lips to wet his cock. The man was like a machine; whatever we did to his lovely, long cock, he seemed to withstand it, having stamina beyond anything I've ever seen.

At one point he pulled her onto his face, forcing her to straddle his mouth, and using his tongue began sucking and eating her beautiful pussy. I burned with jealousy, wishing it was MY pussy his lips wrapped around. But I saw this as my opportunity to provide him pleasure while she could only sit there. I sat on his stomach, facing his feet, and deep-throated his cock, swallowing at it, sucking it down, then pulling it out, licking the length of it down to his testicles, my breasts heaving against his stomach. My face strained further down to take his testicles in my mouth, and used my wet, sweet tongue to tickle at him, suck on him, dance around, then plunge even further down towards his asshole. Facing his feet, I could see the whipping post all too clearly. The sight of it emboldened me, made me do things in desperation I would have never done before. I pressed my face into his ass, and sought out his hole with my tongue. I was amazed, he didn't even taste bad. There was some hair, and the salty taste of skin, but I licked in small little circles, hoping to drive him mad with desire.

My plan backfired. He equated those wonderful sensations I was providing him with the eating of her cunt. He ripped his head away from her, threw back his head, and yelled, "That's fanTASTIC!" then threw her from him. I smiled, thinking I had just won, but was shocked when he turned her on her back, grabbed my face, and pushed me into her pussy.

"Lick that" he shot breathlessly, putting a finger into my cunt, and a finger into hers. "She wins, and you're going to get her ready to climax for me." I was shocked! I wanted to jerk away and argue with him, but he seemed to anticipate this and pump my cunt harder with his fingers. "Don't you dare, you stay down and lick her."

I began tearing up already. I felt the girl beneath me move and squirm, writhing in pleasure as my rough wet tongue lapped flatly over her. Upstrokes were all I could manage, over and over, licking up and up, the steady, consistent friction driving her over the edge. He laughed and asked her, "Hey there, precious, are you ready to come for me? Do you want your prize?"

She threw her head back with no inhibition, "Yes Master! Pllleeeaaasssee!!!! I want it so bad!!! Let me have it, Please Master!"

He smiled down at her kindly, roughly threw me to the floor, and laughed once again, "Heh, alright, I'll give it to you," he collapsed down on her with a kiss on the mouth. "Just wait one second, lovely. GUARD!" He called over his shoulder. A guard entered the room, "Yes, Sir?" I blushed, but the guard didn't seem to care; he must be used to seeing his Master in the throes of passion.

"See that girl?" Prince Jaimeth pointed to me. "Tie her to my pole, and beat her well. I want to hear her screams as I enjoy the morsel underneath me."

"Yes, Sir. Come here, you," he said quietly to me as he picked me up and carried me to the pole. I wanted to fight, but I was too paralyzed. I couldn't believe this was happening! The guard had already unlocked my hands from behind my back and was tying my hands above my head before I threw myself in desperation.

"Please, Master, no! Please don't do this! Master, please, I tried so hard, please have mercy, Master! No! Don't do this, please!"

Jem had already turned back to the winning girl and was kissing her passionately, crushing her body beneath his. He broke his head away from a kiss to throw me a smile, "Hush, little lovely, spare your voice. Go ahead, guard, give the little slut a beating." He turned back to the other girl, spread her thighs so that she wrapped her legs around his back, and be thrust sharply, rapidly into her.

I heard the whip whistle through the air before it landed with a loud crack on my back, only silenced by my terrible scream. Even through my scream, I could hear Jem moan, in ecstasy, pumping away hard and fast into his victor. The second blow drew another terrible scream from me, and the third landed before I could even catch my breath.

"PLEASE MASTER! NO!"

Only moans and grunts from him rose above wet slaps of their enjoined bodies. Over and over the whip fell, and harder and harder Jaimeth raped the girl as if my screams were a serenade of sweet music. I remembered what the Prince had said: the beating would last until their love-making was over; "that sick bastard!" my mind cried out, "the screams are actually helping him!" And I remembered his stamina, and I fell into despair knowing the beating wouldn't soon be over.

The whip kept falling and falling, and I kept screaming until my throat was raw, and I began losing my voice. When I could no longer stand or scream, I limply hung from the pole, the bindings cutting into my hands, my only response a jump and yelp when the whip landed. If I wasn't mistaken, the guard was now hitting me less frequently, as if he too wished it would just end.

Finally, the end mercifully came. The winning girl moaned and cried her orgasm, and Jaimeth erupted inside of her with a yell of his own. The guard dropped his arm, not letting the whip fall on me again, as he stood back, waiting for instruction. Jem took his sweet time regaining his breath, and lay collapsed on his pillows, sweating heavily. He kicked at the girl in his bed, still unable to fully speak. "Go..." he heaved, coffee hair mashed to his forehead, "get out of here, I'm done with you." She scrambled off the bed, arms still cuffed behind her back, and clumsily made her way out the door. Jem seemed to forget I was there.

"Sir?" the guard asked on my behalf, "What do you want done with this one? Want me to take her back as well?"

He thought for a minute, the sound of his heavy breathing slowing. "No...no, I might want to try her out later. Chain her up outside in the hallway," he laughed, "I need a break." He turned over onto his stomach to make himself comfortable to sleep.

My hair a mess, my makeup running down my face, and my skin all over bright red, I only hung from the pole as the guard began unchaining me. He was so gentle in the way he touched me, and so careful while lifting me to carry me out, I wondered if he actually felt sorry for me. Despite the fact that it was his arm that brought the whip down on me, I found myself nestling into his chest for comfort.

There were rings outside to be chained to, which surprised me. Was the royalty ready to chain a slave absolutely anywhere? I was laid on the floor, again my hands over my head, and chained to the wall. The guard stood to leave, but turned back suddenly. "Try to sleep," he whispered looking down at me. "I doubt he'll call for you." At that, he turned once more and strode down the hallway, leaving me alone on the cold floor with the posted door guards as company.

I squeezed tears of pain and shame from my eyes. I didn't expect this, not on my first time with him. Body slaves were supposed to serve his body. I tried to do that, why did he have to hurt me? My mind was exhausted, and despite myself, I quickly fell into a deep sleep, only disturbed by my own hiccup sobs.

I thought I was dreaming when I heard a man approach me and stand next to me. I thought it was a nightmare, reliving the beating I just received. In my sleep I cringed, curled up, tried to get away from the pain. The whispered string of curses that followed alerted me that it wasn't only a dream, but there was really a man standing nearby. No! Don't hurt me! My mind silently shouted at him, my eyes snapping open, my tear-streaked face looking up at him in fear. I looked right at his face, a crime I was too terrified to avoid. I gasped at the iciest blue eyes I had ever seen, framed in beautiful ash blonde hair: gorgeous! Was my breath taken away by fear or awe? I opened my mouth to beg him not to hurt me, beg him for help, but he quickly reached down to cover my mouth. He didn't say anything, only burned a message into my eyes with his own sapphire coals: "stay quiet, don't wake the Prince." Holding a finger up to his lips and looking at me in warning, he opened Prince Jaimeth's door a crack and slipped inside. I was shocked, thinking it a bold move for anyone. He reemerged a moment later with a blanket in his hand, which after shutting the door, he shook out and covered me gently. My eyes only emitted fear, pain, and confusion. I wanted to thank him, but again he held up his hand and shook his head. Our entire transaction was silent, and I watched the blonde angel walk down the rest of the hallway into his own room. Snuggling against my new treasure, I fell asleep happy for the small comfort, the random kindness, and hoped I would see him again.

******

Morning found me forgotten. No one who came to Prince Jaimeth's room paid any attention to the ragged girl outside his door. Not the slaves who came first to help him dress, nor his advisors who reported the days events, nor the guards who changed shifts, nor his younger brother and sister who dropped in for a visit. Mid-morning my stomach rumbled; it had been forever ago since I had eaten, and I was stiff and sore. Just when I thought I would break down and call for help, Prince Jaimeth emerged with an entourage of several advisors and his young siblings. All seemed to be enjoying the morning, and only after exiting his door did he stop abruptly to look down at me. I kept my eyes down, but I could tell from his demeanor he had forgotten I was there. Remembering me for the first time, he laughed and turned to one of the door guards. "Who the hell gave her a blanket?"