The Fantasies X - Pirate Whore

Deep down my throat, got to relax, try not to bite down. Claws brush against my stomach and gouge me a little every time he feels teeth. I'm looking up at his short little tail, oh, and I used to think it was cute. At least his thrusts are slow, but every so often his testicles block my nose and I can't breathe. Should have known this would happen one day. Such a good pet for so long, the best friend I never really had.

Every thrust of the tip of his dick past the back of my tongue is a new challenge not to be choked. I suppose I sucked a lot of dick when I was younger, some of it not by choice, but I didn't do this kind of shit very often. At least I have enough experience to hold on; to stay strong while he fucks my throat.

Banger, wasn't I good to you? Didn't I play with you even though I didn't have to? And this is how you repay me. Maybe I did keep you against your will but- oh fuck, I'm not sure if I like his claws in my pussy, but I have a fleeting hope that he won't stop.

How much more can I take? Trailing off now, into my throat and out faster and faster; when I think I might pass out I finally feel him push my mouth up so I have to take in as much of his cock as I can and he shoots his load inside of me. So much of it; he growls at first, then howls into the air; his dick finally shrinks and flops out of my mouth. I roll over and cough up as much as I can such a fucking mess.

"Banger, you're a bad dog!"

He growls at me. "Rrrrr- not dog!"

Well, someone's a little touchy. Maybe that's where I made the real mistake; Banger's a howler, a noble savage warrior from the southern lands, but yes, he looks like a cute cuddly man-doggy. Should have gotten a real dog, one that kills for food instead of, whatever Banger kills for. It's easy to get raw meat. Why, I could get several big, obedient-

Thrown over his shoulder; carrying me through the woods, my hands bound behind my back. I scream, but to no avail. His fur rubs my naked stomach, and his paw covers my bare ass and he tracks through the brush and the trees like they aren't even there.

"Banger, as your former master, I demand you to put me down!" Worth a try anyway.

He just ignores me, just another male with a one-tracked mind, typical.

"At least tell me where you're taking me baby."

"Rrrrrrr- slave market."

Oh, well I guess that's not so bad I could buy a new-

"No! Banger, I'm not slave material, they want young stupid girls, I'm too old to be a slave. Please baby!"

Fine, just ignore me you dirty- well, no use talking to a dog- howler- whatever. Maybe I can convince them to put another one of those collars on him. Just you wait you mutt! Oh, he's stopping again.

My cunt, lowered onto his dick while he's still standing. I can't hold on with my hands bound behind my back so I wrap my legs around his waist. He only needs one paw to hold me up and he starts bouncing me up and down with speed. His big doggy dick, so good, curves just right so it hits all the right spots. Balls, slapping my ass, while he thrusts into me during my fall down his shaft, over and over.

"Banger, baby- *moan* mummy needs you! Don't- *grunt* sell me. Didn't we- *yell* have something special, sweetie?"

"Rrrrrr- shut mouth!" Well, that's not what you were saying earlier.

He's getting wilder, growling, both paws on my ass now. Just a little more, be a good boy, yes, yes, right- there! I squeal while he pounds on me just a few more times and then sprays inside of me, then drops me on the ground.

"Filthy mongrel! Mummy deserves better than this! And after all I did for you."

He's panting for breath when I dart to my feet and try to run off, but he gets to me just in time, growls and slings me back over his shoulder. We're moving faster now; he certainly can run through these woods. If he didn't have to hold onto me with one of his front paws, why we might already be there, but instead he sticks to his hind legs and only uses one to maintain balance. Maybe if I had some treats I could change his mind or if I scratch behind his ear, he used to love that.

When we reach the clearing, the sun is low on the horizon, just an hour or two until nightfall. Can't see how close we are, but from Banger's cheery little yips I have a pretty good guess. My first visual indication is the cavern. Torches line the walls of it all the way to the wooden gate into the market.

Slavery is technically illegal in this area but indentured servitude isn't and most owners have a forged document that "proves" their claim. That is unless their slave is some kind of special creature like Banger, but that sort of thing is typically too much of a risk for most people to take. If only I'd considered that earlier. He raps on the wooden gate and a voice answers from the other side.

"No dogs in here."

"Rrrrrr- open! Slave for sale."

"Oh, yeah, well in that case. Just a sec."

Banger carries me down the slope of the cavern, around a curve and lays me down on a table in a large room. Two disgusting men, not the people I'd bought Banger from, start eyeing me up and down. One puts a hand on my cheek and forces my mouth open and looks inside with his one good eye.

"Still, got all her teeth, rare that is. "

They begin to pat me down and turn me over, grab my ass, stick a finger up my asshole, two in my pussy and they just say "huh," and flip me back over. Then one of the bastards wedges one of my arms outward to feel my armpit.

"Get your hands off me!"

"Shut it you! No hair on her cunt or anywhere else, that's interesting. Where did you get her? No never mind, best not to ask things like that. Cunt's a little worn out, but we can get it back in shape. Looks a bit skinny, let's get this top off her."

"No!" I shout.

The other man pulls out his knife and slices my tunic away. I really liked that top too. Then he starts squeezing on my breasts.

"Not too bad for such a little woman, good and plump, the way tits ought to be, you know? Ah, guess you don't being a dog and all."

"Rrrrrr- not dog!"

"Alright, alright, didn't mean no offense- sir or whatever. Black hair, not really what most establishments go for. Be nice if she was a blond, red-head, or even a fucking brunette would be better. And, she is a bit old."

"What?!" I shout.

"Can't keep her mouth shut neither. How's seven gold sound?"

"Rrrrr- sold!"

"Banger, no! Take mummy with you baby. Don't leave me here!"

Too late, he takes their gold and scurries away. Oh, what does he need gold for anyway?! My eyes water, I look away from the men, but one of them turns my head back toward him.

"What's your name slave?"

"S- Selena," I whimper.

"Oh, that's no good. Same name as that crazy bounty hunter. Scary woman that is, wrong fellow hears that name he won't even be able to get it up. From now on your name is- Meg. That's a good whore's name, right?"

"That was my mum's name, you fuck!" the slaver with one eye says.

"Sorry, what about Trish?"

"That's my fucking sister's name!"

The man laughs. "Yeah, I know."

"I'm about to beat the shit out of you." the one-eyed slaver says.

"What about Rose or Daisy?"

"Fuck flower names!" the one-eyed slaver whines.

"Do you have to be difficult? Alright slave, your name's Kim."

The one-eyed slaver shakes his head.

"Kim!" the other slaver shouts.

"Fine," the one-eyed slaver moans.

"Like Kimberly?" I say.

"No! Just fucking Kim, keep it simple."

They get some tattered, ratty looking dress for me to wear that needs a good burning.

"Put it on."

"That thing is foul!" I say.

"Well, I don't mind if you stay naked. Get's chilly in here though."

"I'll wear it!"

Locked in a wooden cage, my arms still bound behind my back, my legs bound together, a collar chained to a metal ring which has been fixed to the cave wall, just like I used to keep Banger, except for the ropes, but to be fair Banger was kind of an animal. If there are any gods and if they're listening I promise if you get me out of here I won't buy anymore slaves, for a while, okay never.

The night is sort of cold and this lousy dress doesn't help much. When I finally do drift off to sleep, the dreams start again. They vary from time to time, but they always have the same faces. Faces I don't recognize. A man and a woman at a party, though sometimes the dream involves a very large majestic room and a ceremony of some sort. They speak to me but it's like I can't hear it. Eventually it stops and I don't dream at all.

A few days pass, these morons have me rubbing some kind of salve on my vagina that they think is going to shrink it. It does make it feel a little better down there, even frisky. A day later, a few men come into the slave market. We're all undressed, gagged, and put on display in the center of the cave. Not much of a selection here, really, except for me of course. I'd probably walk right out.

Some man, who, from the looks of him, has gotten way too much sun, comes over to me. He stinks of sweat and body odor and wears a cheap shirt dyed with purple and yellow stripes. Fondles one of my breasts; gets a good feel of my cunt and starts to grin at me. He's missing his two front teeth and his hair seems to be thinning in the front, but that doesn't seem to be the case on his chest. I notice a long scar around his throat. He's laughing but it sounds more like a grunt. He slaps my ass and gestures toward the slavers.

"How much for this one?"

"Oh, this one's a rare beauty, Pete. Guy we bought her from said she was a nobleman's daughter. Couldn't let her go for less than thirty gold."

He walks around behind me and gives my ass a good squeeze.

"Right, more like a nobleman's wife."

"Maybe she was." One of the slavers says.

"Ha! She don't even got a tattoo."

"Burned it off."

"So where's the burn?"

"It healed."

"Look at her; she's older than all the girls in here. Fuck, she might be as old as me."

"Your customer's won't be able to tell."

"My customer's may just be lust-crazed idiots, but even they know an old whore when they stick their dick in her."

"You want her or not?" the one-eyed slaver says.

"I'll give you twenty." The buyer says.

"Twenty-five!"

"Twenty-three, final offer."

The slavers sigh. "Deal."

My buyer gets close and whispers in my ear. "Oh, that's right, baby. I own you now."

He gives my ass a firm spank and licks my cheek. Disgusting bastard, the minute I get my hands on something sharp, I'll reopen that scar.

"What's her name?"

"Kim," the slavers say.

"Ah whatever, time to introduce you to your new profession, Kim." I'd like to introduce you to soap.

The man carries me into the carriage, my legs and hands are bound and the gag remains around my mouth. He orders the driver to get going and we ride. It's actually a pretty nice carriage, comfortable leather seats which I appreciate for the couple of seconds I get to sit on them. My new owner sets me on his lap and has his hands on me the whole time, rubbing my pussy, which even as excited as I feel from the salve, isn't that great. He slides the cheap, tattered dress off me and his mouth goes to my tits, an odd sensation feeling the gums where his two-front teeth used to be on my nipples. I can feel his erection growing through his pants, nothing special though. Whispering in my ear now, saying what a slut I am over and over, kissing my neck, and fondling my breasts, rubbing a little closer to the right spot.

Lifts me up to slide his pants down and when I land back down on his lap I feel his exposed cock pressed against me. When he gets it inside of me I start to whimper, despite how inadequate it is. Bouncing me up and down like I'm nothing, feels sort of good, he groans every time I land. I should gain some weight, but will I ever get a chance? How can I let this gross, smelly bastard have his way with me? In the old days I would have wiggled out of these ropes and snapped his neck like a twig. Maybe I'm losing my edge. Feeling a lot weaker than I did ten years ago.

Tossed off of him, but my climax was still a long way away and he crouches down, stroking his dick and my face is splattered with his seed. He opens a compartment under the rear seat in the carriage and rolls me into it, the semen still on my face. Then he shuts the door behind me.

No light in here and I feel the carriage come to a stop and my owner speaking to someone outside. Can't make out much of what they're saying. The carriage starts moving again and I remain under the seat. Sounds like we're on a real road now and after several bumps, twists and turns the carriage stops again and the door opens.

He picks me up back over his shoulder and carries me outside. I recognize this area all too well, Sarcina, the Platinum Quarter. Not a lot of good memories here for me. Doubtful I'll make a whole lot more. There is one person in this city I'm aching to see though, with any luck our paths will cross again.

This brothel; absolutely the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Called the Gleeful Pecker and if that doesn't sum it up there's a painting of a smiling dick above the entryway to the bedchambers. The décor isn't that disappointing, oh, there's no use trying to be fair it's absurd. All of the walls are painted with purple and gold stripes and a white and black fur rug taken from the hide of some animal I don't recognize lies in the entry hall.

The entryway into the hallway to the bedchambers is a very sturdy oak door, no doubt locked from the other side at night. I suppose the owner doesn't have any willing prostitutes in his establishment. They carry me down to an empty bedroom that they tell me will be mine while I work here. At least the place seems to smell considerably better than my new owner.

I finally get the gag removed from my mouth and they lead me into a very small bathhouse that resides within the brothel. I suppose with all the time I've spent chasing wanted criminals, traipsing through the outdoors, and getting fucked by gross brothel owners, I could use a good bath. It really is an impressive sight, and I have a less than enchanting conversation with some of the other girls already inside, all of them younger than me by at least five to ten years.

After being escorted back to my room my owner discusses our new arrangement. Apparently I have a contract I'm supposed to abide by, and if I do, after paying back the gold it cost to purchase me and the amount of money my contract stipulates, which is quite a bit, I'll be able to work here as a free whore. From my calculations that should take about fifteen to twenty years, I'm not holding my breath. At least I finally get the first warm meal I've had in several days; the food the slavers gave me was barely fit for consumption.

The bed in my room is somewhat comfortable, very soft, probably meant more for the customers than the whores. Other than the bed though, the room is virtually empty. I close my eyes and drift off.

Something different tonight, there's a symbol on a flag; I've seen it before but for some reason I can't quite say it, it's so obvious, right on the tip of my tongue. It's on top of a magnificent carriage that I've seen in other dreams and when I open the door, there's a boy inside. He has short black hair and is dressed in very fine clothes. His face seems to light up when he sees me and we hug. Colors swirl around in front of me and I seem lost in them. When they suddenly clear up I can hear screaming and find myself lying in the dirt. Fire in the woods, the boy that was with me lies pinned under the debris of the carriage we were in. His eyes open and he calls out. I feel so connected to him, so pained to see him this way, I rise to my feet and it feels like I'm fighting against an invisible hand. Then I awaken.

The morning brings my first customer, who to my delight is a devilishly handsome young man with delicious light brown hair and a lovely slender body. He's very well-dressed and after I get those beautiful clothes off of him I discover that he is, in fact, the son off a nobleman, the coat of arms tattooed a foot above that gorgeous behind of his and I can't help but wonder why he thinks he needs to pay for sex. Then I find out that he likes older women like me who look just like- his mother. Calls me "mummy" while we do it and he wants me to tell him what a bad boy he is and slap him around, which I have no problem with and at the end of it he cries in my arms, saying "I'm sorry," and "I've been so bad mummy," over and over again.

When my next customer comes in I look away immediately, but he keeps advancing on me slowly. I had heard he was dead, maybe I will enjoy the perks of this job.

"You are breath-taking, the resemblance is remarkable-"

I turn toward him quickly and give a swift knee to the crotch and then I pull his dagger from his jacket and stick him in the side. He falls to the bed and I slash at him repeatedly but he puts his arms up to block and screams in agony while I cut into his flesh over and over, laughing at his pathetic defense.

"Selena! You crazy fucking bitch, not again."

"Freddie- *slash* you fuck- *slash* this has been a- *slash* long time coming- *slash* you sick bastard. *slash* I may even enjoy killing you more than-"

A kick to the stomach and I go flying against the wall. He leaps for the dagger but I manage to land a knee to his nose first. I give him a few weak punches then resume kneeing him in the head over and over again.

Maybe I'll take his head with me, pity; he's worth so much more alive in Rhoeweigh. Then my owner and his big stupid underling burst through the door, but it's too late for Freddie. He lies on the floor, his face almost unrecognizable. They panic when I wave the dagger towards them.

"I'll gut the both of you." I scream.

I manage to stick the big half-wit in the arm and he cries out in agony. I ruin my owner's shirt with a shallow slash to his midsection, then I leap up and kick him in the head, but I land on something sharp, which, fortunately, doesn't penetrate any skin and I stumble backwards. Then the big half-wit lands a fist to my temple and I go down in a heap, making one last desperate swipe at him before I black out. I awaken, tied to a table in the entry hall; the two men just look at me without saying a word when I wake up.

"Freddie was one of my best customers." My owner says.

"Fuck him." I say.

"That's what you were supposed to do." He says.

He smacks me with the back of his hand, I've had worse, but in my current condition it definitely is hard to cope with. I laugh in spite of it all.

"Stupid fucking whore! Make her suffer."

My arms are stretched out in front of me on the table and the big half-wit brandishes a large sharp blade in his hand. He holds it to my wrists, the blade just touching my skin.

"Little dick bastards! Fight fair!" I shout.

He raises the sword high in the air and then- the front door opens. A couple of young men barge through the door shouting and then one of them spots me.

"What the fuck is going on?!" he says.

"Mind your business lad, we're closed." My owner says.

"I'm not here for whoring mate. Just have some questions, and I don't want to witness this shit. Don't you have a back room or something?"

"We don't want to startle the other whores." My owner says.

"Fine, just tell me what I want to know and we're gone."

"Listen little boy, you picked a bad fucking time." My owner says.

The young man pulls out a small device in one hand. I think I've heard of these but never actually seen one. He points the contraption at my owner, it's small and has a short metallic cylinder on one end and a wooden stock on the other, and the young man cocks back a piece of metal.

"How's about I tell you when a good time is, you old fuck."

"What's that supposed to be?" My owner says.