Phoebe

"Now," he ordered, "I want you to curtsey to the rest of your guests at every other step. Come along!" He set off along the space between the first of the three long soldiers' tables and the stone wall at a pace that would not have been taxing if she were walking normally, but her enforced courtesy caused her to bob up and down ridiculously and feel the rope pulling on her with an increased insistence. Her speed in curtseying was causing her breasts to swing and jiggle, capturing the attention of many - and she could be sure where attention was focused, as the spaces between the soldiers' tables, and between them and the walls, were so narrow that the men had no trouble in reaching out to make their own quick inspections. Somehow, Phoebe found herself becoming inured to the slaps, pinches, and gropes, and even found the ache to become more intense because of them. Gasps and moans forced their way past her lips, to the evident delight of her captor and her audience, and when they reached the end of the corridor she found herself unable to beg not to go down the next one, the first that would take her between two rows of soldiers.

It was even harder to walk the gauntlet again, as there were twice as many hands reaching out to take advantage of her plight. Three times, she was stopped by them holding her in place for a more thorough examination of her body while Banks pretended not to notice and tugged impatiently at the rope, chafing her tender flesh while soldiers kneaded her breasts like dough and tried to spank her for imaginary rudeness. Once they reached the end of the row Phoebe expected to go on to the next one, but Banks made her stand in place while he sawed the rope harshly between her legs. The ache grew and grew until it exploded in a marvelous, though deeply embarrassing pleasure that caused Phoebe to throw her head back and gasp. She had not yet collected her breath before he began to pull her down the next row, though her trembling legs could scarcely carry her; this time he moved at a more leisurely pace, allowing the men to take even more liberties with her. It seemed, however, that he had only eased the speed at which she had to curtsey to let the ache between her legs build up again, and as soon as they had reached the end of the row he sawed the rope furiously again, this time with the men on either side pinching her nipples and pulling her back and forth with them, until she came to a second climax. She walked the last row at the same speed, but at the end of it he was unable to force her to come a third time, try though he and the soldiers might to bring her - Phoebe was simply exhausted and raw, hardly able to feel anything between her numb thighs. Sensing this, Banks at last walked behind her and gave her several stinging blows to the backside.

"A lady should always perform the duties she owes her guests," he said, and Phoebe realized that he had hardly touched her throughout the entire meal, behaving as though he were above everything that he had put her through. "Perhaps we will see each other later, now that you understand my principles." Jerking his head, he gestured to one of the grinning guards to approach, and handed him her rope as though he had sold a cow at the market. "Take her back to her chambers, Andrews," he said, and walked back to his place at the table without a backwards glance.

Andrews took his time leaving the hall, stopping frequently to share a joke at Phoebe's expense and let his friends get in a few last pinches and slaps. She had thought, though, that by the time they were outside he would simply do his duty and return her, but this was not so. As they walked down the silent stone corridors, he moved closer, wrapping his right arm about her waist and taking the rope with the same hand so that he could control it with more force, and allowing his left hand to roam over her breasts at will; at one point, he completely stopped walking in order to pull up strongly on the rope, the force on her wrists causing her to arch backward to prevent a serious injury. He then took advantage of her pose to fasten his lips over first one breast and then the other, sucking and chewing on them with abandon, while the rope relentlessly bit into her. She had hoped her body was too beaten and tired to respond at all, but the attentions soon drove her to a climax larger than the other two, causing her to actually cry out and then sag against him. It surprised him, she could tell, and for a moment he held her without perpetrating any more torments on her.

"I suppose I can give you a little reward for that private performance," he said, smiling, and dropped the rope. She thanked him in a whisper, half out of her mind from the long experience, but after he untied her wrists and allowed her to bring them forward and rub hem, easing her shoulders, he pulled them behind her back, mercifully from the sides, and bound them together again, pulling the rope up between her legs once more. When she gave him a shocked and hurt look, his smile became something more like a smirk. "I did say a little reward," he told her. "Now, I have a few friends on sentry duty at the top of the wall, and I think it's a damned shame they had to miss all of the entertainment at dinner. I think we'd better pay them a little visit and let them have their own taste of it, don't you agree?" When she began to protest, he reached out and pinched a nipple, twisting it until Phoebe could only babble her apologies. "When we get there, there's going to be none of this arguing," he said, setting off. "Trust me, Peters and Atwood can be very nasty when they think they're missing out ..."