Wheldrake
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On the Block, Part 10
A fantasy of slavery by Wheldrake
Gianna and I seemed to be the only people up and moving in the entire manor. She led me briskly through shadowy corridors lit only by dim, widely spaced lanterns, our footsteps and even our breathing loud in the noctural stillness. I was not sure exactly how late it was, and my mind and body ached to be back in bed where I could sleep at least in fits and starts, but at the same time I was alert and practically throbbing with tension.
"Are you taking me to Relkada?" I asked, more because the silence was becoming unbearable than because I expected Gianna to answer the question. She snorted and hit me again, rather harder than last time and without even breaking stride. I stifled my yelp of pain, not wanting to wake anyone.
"I don't think I heard you properly, boy."
"Are you taking me to my lady, then?"
Gianna chuckled knowingly. "Still hoping for a little kiss good night?"
"I just want to know what's going to happen to me," I replied a little miserably. I had never expected slavery to be easy or enjoyable, but the series of cruel surprises I had experienced since falling into Relkada's hands was beginning to wear on my nerves. I felt as if I was approaching some psychological limit beyond which I would be unable to do anything but throw myself on the floor and howl for mercy at the top of my lungs. If Relkada had indeed sent for me in the dead of night, it probably meant that she had some further unkindness in store for me, but that knowledge did nothing to dampen my desire to be in her presence and win her approval. I wanted to be the pet and favoured plaything of the woman who owned me, chained at her feet and suffering at her personal whim while the wretched Harjan toiled far away under the whips of the handlers.
"You'll find out soon enough," Gianna said ominously, and my vision of intimate servitude collapsed as quickly as it had arisen. She and Oric had implied that a woman was waiting for me to be brought to her, but they had never said the woman was Relkada. I was probably going to be passed on to yet another female handler, who would give me one final thrashing and then throw me into some barren little cell where I would spend the rest of the night in sleepless discomfort. Clista and the others would have no difficulty finding excuses to punish me during my first day of training if I could barely keep my eyes open, and no doubt they were already salivating over the prospect. Meanwhile, Crell was probably asleep in Relkada's arms. I hung my head and felt very sorry for myself, but Gianna marched me along as quickly as ever.
Hope flickered, almost cruelly, when we started up a carpeted flight of stairs. Surely the barren little cells would line some equally barren dungeon passageway, down in the depths. The flicker of hope grew into something more like a steady flame as I saw that corridor at the top of the stairs was in fact bright and warm, and redolent with a scent that might have graced the body of the most beautiful courtesan in Ariskayne. There were alcoves in the walls that held delicate statues and exquisitely, richly-coloured ceramics. My naked, battered body felt out of place in the midst of so much elegance.
Gianna pushed me along relentlessly, not giving me the time to admire my surroundings or grow accustomed to them. We went through a gallery full of hanging masks and marionettes, along a narrow, conspiratorial sort of passage that was dim and shrouded in tapestries, and finally through a door and up a flight of stairs far shorter than the first. The stairs took us up to a small anteroom with a low couch along one wall, beneath a portrait of a female figure that I knew represented Kavail, one of the handmaidens of the Goddess. It was she who dragged mortal men and women down to the caverns beneath the Earth, to kneel before their Eternal Mother and be Her abject slaves.
The woman who stood in the anteroom was young, but looked almost as formidable as Kavail herself. She was trim and muscular, indeed rather boyish, with short black curls and skin nearly as dark as Golaz's. She wore a mail coat and held a curved sword whose blade gleamed, like the whites of her fierce eyes, in the light of the scented lanterns.
"He's here," Gianna announced unnecessarily. The guardswoman, for she could hardly be anything else, grinned and wrinkled her nose at the same time.
"You both go in," she said curtly, in an accent that was also not so different from Golaz's. Ariskayne attracted mercenaries from all over the world, alongside the masses of free labourers and toiling slaves. This woman was surely in Relkada's pay, not a piece of property. "I stay here," she added.
"Perhaps next time," Gianna replied sympathetically. The black woman shrugged, as if she hardly cared, and stepped aside to open a wooden door inlaid with curving metalwork. For all her indifference, she eyed my nakedness with a burning intensity as Gianna led me past. I wished I could at least shield my groin from her scrutiny, but my hands were as securely bound behind my back as ever.
With the door open, a curtain of hanging beads still concealed the room beyond. Gianna pushed me through, not roughly but with implacable firmness, one of her hands holding each of my arms. I sighed in nervousness, anticipation and raw physical desire when I realised that I was indeed being marched straight into Relkada's bedroom. All my hopes were coming true, and I was suddenly terrified.
She was sitting in a high-backed wooden chair as ornate and massive as a throne. Her only garment was a sleeveless gown of creamy silk that descended to her ankles but clung to her body with sensuous precision, revealing every curve. The chair was two long paces from an equally imposing bed, with four great wooden pillars and a blanket of sable fur that gleamed in the lamplight. Relkada's face was a pensive mask as she weighed me with her dark eyes, but the sight of her in surroundings that were at once so regal and so intimate made my blood rise and my cock stiffen like steel. The guard in the anteroom pushed the door closed behind Gianna and me, and there I was.
Relkada beckoned, and Gianna let go of my arms to allow me to walk silently forwards. I kept my chin high and my breathing steady, trying to ignore the way my engorged cock swung and bobbed with every stride. My footsteps made no sound at all on the thickly carpeted floor. At least I no longer felt the least bit tired.
Relkada pointed to the floor as I drew within her reach, without removing her gaze from mine or changing her thoughtful expression in the slightest. I blinked once in confusion, then sank smoothly to my knees before her. I felt very small and helpless as she loomed over me, her hair unbound and tumbling wildly around her shoulders. She gave the slightest little smile, as if to acknowledge my obedience, but it vanished almost at once and she extended one leg so that her bare foot hovered almost in my face. This time my uncertainty lasted a moment longer, and Relkada raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips before I understood what she wanted me to do. I press my lips gently to the instep of her foot, hoping that would be enough.
She lowered her foot and regarded me solemnly. "Hello, Areth," she said at length, in a soft voice that was very different from the bold, almost strident tones I remembered from Karyana's palace but somehow no less commanding.
"Why am I here, my lady?" I asked, half-hopeful and half-fearful.
Relkada leaned forwards. "Because I want you to be," she replied, sounding as if that explanation was both obvious and perfectly sufficient. She brushed my hair back from my forehead, in a gesture that might have been maternal or sensual in its intent, but then settled back and lifted her foot again. This time her toes came up to my chest and brushed across my left nipple, prodding it and toying with it. I flinched back instinctively, and Relkada sighed wearily but with what could have been an undertone of amusement.
"Gianna," she said simply. The stout handler was behind me in an instant, grasping my shoulders and digging her knee ruthlessly into my back so that I had no choice but to stay exactly where I was. Relkada looked me in the eye and raised her foot again, grasping my nipple with her toes and twisting it hard enough to hurt.
"Ow!" I protested half-seriously. "You're torturing me with your foot, my lady."
"Is that wrong somehow, Areth?"
"Hardly the most dignified method, if nothing else."
She laughed, sounding surprised and genuinely amused. "What would strike you as more dignified? Shall I have Gianna fetch the six-stranded whip that draws blood with every blow?"
"Your foot will be more than sufficient, my lady," I hastened to assure her, hoping that I had not misjudged her mood. I was relieved when she smiled.
"I'm glad I have your permission to hurt you this way." Her toenails were not especially long, but they were surprisingly sharp. She drew them across my belly and even onto the base of my cock, which was still perfectly rigid, but then pulled back and started to prod and lightly kick at my scrotum.
"My lady, it hurts!"
"Does it, now?" I gasped in pain, and she grinned and tossed her head in a way that made her dark hair ripple. "One hard kick or a few more minutes of this. Your choice, my slave."
"One hard kick, my lady!" I gasped, wanting to at least get it over. Relkada struck instantly, slamming the upper side of her ankle into my balls. I groaned and would have doubled over if not for Gianna's constraining hands. Tears welled up in my eyes, and pain thrust like a sword into the depths of my belly. Relkada immediately became conciliatory, leaning close to run her fingers gently through my hair and even dab at my tears with a lock of her own.
"My strong, handsome northern slave," she murmured. "No, don’t let him go, Gianna. My lovely Areth." She sank to her knees and embraced me, her body pressing against mine so that I could feel her warmth through the smooth, thin silk. We could almost have been equals except that I was the one bound and naked and held in the grip of an efficient if not particularly unkind slave handler. Relkada of Ariskayne, the professional tormentor of slaves who had bought me, exploited me in a cruel performance and then summoned me to her bedroom in the dead of night, kissed me full on the mouth. Her lips were firm, her tongue delicate and yet insistent as it intertwined with mine. For a moment I was frozen, utterly lost in her scent and softness, but then my lips responded to hers with all the artfulness and ardour I could command. She ground her body against me and kissed me with renewed vigour, but all too soon she drew back and looked into my face with a wry, peculiar smile.
"Crell was here earlier tonight," she informed me. "So raw and vigorous, so wonderfully male. I've seen him take slaves far bigger and stronger than you and have them whimpering at his feet in seconds, with just his bare hands mind you. That's the kind of man I generally prefer in my bedchamber. He laid me down on the bed and fucked me like a stallion. He fucked me until I screamed and wrapped my legs around him and begged for more – literally begged, Areth, although of course it was only a game because I pay his wages and I can have him flogged out of the manor forever if I decide I want to be rid of him. None of the handlers would refuse me anything in this bedroom. So Crell pounded me until I was full of his seed and practically dying of pleasure."
"Why are you telling me this, my lady?" I asked, hurt and baffled.
"Oh, there's more," she continued relentlessly. "We slept for an hour or so, and then I woke him up by kneeling beside the bed and licking his cock under the covers. It's not much longer than yours, Areth, but it's probably twice as big around. I was going to climb back into bed once he was awake, but he guided me onto my hands and knees on the floor and I was happy enough to go along with him. He didn't last as long that second time, but he reached around with his hand to rub my womanly pearl as he fucked me. If the light were better, I'd show you the part of the carpet that I ended up chewing on."
My head had slowly fallen during her narration, but she grabbed me by the chin and forced me to look up at her. "I can have a night like that with Crell or Elandor, or even Gianna here, whenever I want. A hungry mouth, a strong, hard body, and either a stiff cock or a woman's fist. You know exactly how to please me, don't you, Gianna?"
"I believe I have some idea, my lady," Gianna replied laconically, though her voice was bright with barely contained humour.
"Ordinarily," Relkada continued while looking seriously into my eyes, "a couple of bouts with Crell would be enough to leave me thoroughly satisfied and ready to sleep until noon while the handlers dragged you and the other slaves out of bed at dawn and put you through your morning paces. Tonight, somehow, it was different. I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, and then I sent Crell away and told Gianna to bring you." She sounded incredulous, as if she could hardly believe what she had done.
"I'm flattered, my lady," I mumbled.
"The main thing," Relkada replied slowly, "is that you're here and I can do whatever I want to you." She kissed me again, but only briefly, and afterwards she stood up and paced to the far wall of the room and halfway back again. My eyes followed her body, hungrily and fearfully.
"Chain him, Gianna," Relkada said suddenly. "Spread-eagle him on the bed."
"Of course, my lady," Gianna replied with that same glint in her voice. She must have sensed or merely guessed that Relkada would not want her to be too gentle, for she hauled me to a standing position with one hand in my hair and the other wrenching my bound wrists upwards. I gained my feet awkwardly, gasping in pain, only to be shoved hard in the direction of the bed so that I fell across it and lay sprawled face down on that heavy black coverlet. The feel of the sable fur against my naked skin was incongruously soft and welcoming.
Gianna untied my hands, then seized my right wrist in an iron grip and used it to drag me closer to the head of the bed. Burly as she was, I would probably have stood a fair chance of wrestling free if I had been better-rested and determined to fight back, but I was a tired, aching slave being restrained on my owner's instructions. I surrendered fully to Gianna's brusque, controlling grip, even moving up the bed and spreading my arms and legs so that she would not have to do all the work herself. However, she was as rough as ever as she buckled my wrists and ankles into leather cuffs attached by short chains to the four great posts at the corners of Relkada's bed. The restraints had either been intended for larger men or designed to be simply cruel, since I was stretched out with a tightness that was a discomfort in itself.
"He's yours, my lady," Gianna said quietly, stepping back from her work.
"He is indeed." Relkada glided to the side of the bed and rested a hand lightly on my forehead. "Leave us, please, Gianna. He's in no position to work any mischief, and I would like a little privacy."
"As you wish," Gianna replied, her voice carefully neutral but with a definite undertone of disappointment. Relkada simply looked at her in silence until she bowed low and retreated, a slight blush staining her cheeks. She closed the door on us, and for the first time I found myself completely alone with the woman who owned me. For a long moment I simply looked up at Relkada's pensive, pretty face in its frame of disordered black hair, and she looked down at my nude and shackled body. Although she was still wearing her nightgown, and touching nothing except my forehead, my cock strained stiffly towards the ceiling and my balls felt ready to explode.
"Have there been nights when you told Gianna she could stay, my lady?" I asked. I had been a slave long enough to know that it was an impertinent question, but anything was better than prolonging the silence further.
"That is most definitely none of your business," Relkada replied firmly, although with a small amused smile. "You need only know, Areth, that tonight you are mine and mine alone."
"I know that, my lady," I said quietly.
"Good." She leaned over me and put her hands on my shoulders. Her proximity was delightful and maddening, and I found myself pulling desperately against the cuffs and squirming under her hands.
"Where do you think you're going?" she laughed, and pinched one of my nipples to underscore my helplessness.
"I want to touch you, my lady," I panted. I was in no state for eloquence, or even dissimulation. "I want to please you."
Relkada shrugged. "A northern slave animal should want to please his mistress. I'm prepared to let you try." I had only a second to wonder what she meant by that before she peeled off her nightgown in one smooth, prolonged movement. It shimmered to the floor like cascading water, abruptly leaving her as naked as I was. When she had dropped her loincloth in Karyana's palace, I had been too absorbed in my fears and sufferings to really look at her. Now I could appreciate the firmness of her olive-skinned thighs and the dark lustre of the tangled bush between them, and of course I was also seeing her breasts properly for the first time. They were smaller than Karyana's but also considerably firmer, with huge, dark nipples that I instinctively wanted to stroke and lick and kiss.
I sighed in the back of my throat, aroused almost beyond endurance. Relkada gave a lazy, predatory smile, obviously quite aware of the effect her nakedness was having, and leaned over me again so that her breasts were dangling above my face. They were too far away to reach comfortably, but what Relkada wanted was all too obvious. I strained upwards, defying the cuffs to the point of pain, until I could extend my tongue and use it to circle Relkada's right nipple in the slow, precise style that was one of the main approaches I had learned in Viyana's House. Relkada hissed and leaned towards me, allowing me to take her into my mouth.
I knew what to do, more or less. One of Viyana's trainers had been a taciturn older woman called Ebri, and like the other male slaves I had both dreaded and looked forward to my sessions with her. Having a session with Ebri involved being stripped naked and taken to a secluded little room that was almost empty apart from a plain, narrow cot. Usually Alin or another burly female handler would be there to ensure that any attempts at protest or rebellion could be swiftly and firmly quashed. Ebri would unceremoniously remove her own clothing, revealing a body that was mostly skin and bone and thin, wiry cords of muscle. Stretched out on the bed, or standing against the wall, she would order her hapless pupil to suck her nipples, or caress her vulva, or even lick between her buttocks. With luck, she would begin to move in a way that suggested she found the pupil's technique acceptable, and we all learned to listen for the distinctive throat-clearing sound that meant she had reached the summit of her pleasure. After that had happened five or six times, she might declare herself satisfied and reward the pupil by allowing him to kneel and masturbate at her feet. More often, however, she would be unimpressed with his efforts and would exact retribution. The only physical punishment she ever resorted to was pinching and jabbing with her strong, bony fingers, but that could be remarkably painful and was always accompanied by a blunt, scornful lecture on how clumsily and ineptly her victim had been trying to please her and an explanation of exactly what he should have done differently. We slave men exchanged rueful stories of squirming and even crying under Ebri's merciless hands and sharp tongue while Alin laughed herself silly in a corner. On the other hand, Ebri was the only woman we were ever allowed to touch or even see naked, since we were always well separated from Viyana's female stock, and winning her approval was one of the few ways that we could earn permission to masturbate. Lesson by painful lesson, we all learned how to please her in a multitude of different ways, since one of her maxims was that no two female owners would like exactly the same things. She required us to be versatile.
Whatever Relkada might have been up to with Crell at an earlier stage of the evening, I did not think she would enjoy having a slave latch onto her breasts in the frenzied style that Ebri had recommended for lusty women who preferred to take their pleasure hard and fast. Instead I sucked and licked them almost reverently, my tongue and lips moving over the softness of her skin with firm deliberation. Only when I heard her breathing quicken, and felt her rubbing her crotch against my thigh, did I allow myself to speed up and begin occasionally flicking my tongue rapidly back and forth across one or the other of her big, erect nipples.
Abruptly, Relkada grabbed me by the hair and pulled away, holding my head down on the surface of the bed. Her eyes blazed down at me, and for a moment I thought I had displeased her. Then, to my amazement, she threw her leg across my body and her warm sheath engulfed my cock to the hilt. She was sitting almost upright, straddling my hips with her hands on my ribs and her hair tumbling more wildly than ever around her shoulders. Clista had predicted that Relkada would only summon me to her bedchamber when she wanted someone to tie down and ride, and this was presumably what Clista had been referring to. I longed to reach up and caress Relkada with my hands, to roll her over and fuck her like Crell had done earlier that evening, but being tied down and ridden was much better than sleeping in the slave quarters next to Harjan.
I began to move, desperate to please her and release my seed, and Relkada grinned suddenly and bore down against me. She rose and fell, more slowly than I would have liked, but I matched her rhythm and began to groan and pull quite uselessly at the cuffs that bound my limbs as I felt my climax approaching. Relkada's hand shot out and exploded across my cheek with a stinging slap.
"Stop that, Areth. Not until I say." She leaned forwards, her face flushed and glowing with excitement but still as commanding as ever. A bead of sweat fell from her forehead onto mine. "Not unless I say."
"Please, my lady."
"Not unless I say," she repeated, still more insistently.
"I understand, my lady," I moaned.
"And are you prepared to obey?"
"Of course, my lady. I'll do anything you want."
"All right, then. Gianna will be scandalised when she comes in and sees the risk I'm taking with a newly bought slave, but I don't particularly care." To my amazement, Relkada reached up and unfastened the cuff around my left wrist.
[I'm sure it's now obvious that she's got to let him come in the next (and quite possibly final) installment... doesn't she?]
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Femdom Fiction: On the Block, Part 10 - 
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