Authors: Bertrice Small
He would have never admitted it aloud, but this custom of the City’s was a most enjoyable one. Her soft hands moving the washing cloth over his shoulders, his back, his chest, was not simply pleasant, it was seductive as well, although he could see she was working hard not to entice him.
“I’m going to wash your hair,” she told him, and before he might protest she did just that. And then she washed his face, his neck and his ears as well. “There!” she said finally. “We are done, my lord.” And she climbed swiftly up the tub’s steps, and wrapped herself in a drying cloth, while holding one out for him.
He entered it meekly, and sat quietly as she dried him efficiently. Then he watched as she dried herself off, and toweled her long hair damp.
“I’m sorry you must wear dirty garments,” she said. “Mine were clean this morning. I should have thought to bring some. Next time, then.” She handed him his clothing while quickly donning her own. “Did you like it?”
“I did, and Durga will be most jealous when he learns of this interlude. But then, if he had come with us he would have not been able to restrain himself, and would have taken you upon the floor. But we will bring him next time, eh?”
“It is your right to command, my lord, and mine but to obey,” Lara responded.
Enda laughed. “Why is it I sense you are not as meek as you pretend?” he asked her. “But I shall soon teach you that a man is the master.” He caressed her beautiful face with his hand. “And when I have taught you the beginnings of passion, I shall make you beg me for the pleasures a man and woman can give one another when his manroot is buried deep in a woman’s hidden garden.” Then he yanked Lara into his arms, and kissed her surprised mouth hard. “Tell me you want me,” he groaned.
“Not yet,” Lara heard herself say, and wondered where the answer had come from. She was amazed at her calm in the face of her situation. She felt an odd strength filling her, and knew that she was indeed protected, as the guardian of the crystal had told her.
“Tonight you will,” he said curtly, ashamed to have shown her even the slightest moment of weakness. What was the matter with him? This faerie girl was intoxicating, and he began to wonder if they had not made a mistake in purchasing her. “Come,” he said. “I must return to my brother’s hall, and you to my rooms. You will not yet be allowed to speak with our women.”
Back in the dayroom Lara found her supper waiting. She had been given a portion of broiled trout, a ham slice and a roasted capon’s wing. There was bread, and cheese, and another peach. And wine, a large carafe of it. She ate everything and drank sparingly. Then, finished, she washed her hands and face, and cleaned her teeth. Removing her clothing she climbed into the large bed. She instinctively knew he would want her naked, and she had few garments as it was. Tonight she could hear singing from Durga’s hall. She finally fell asleep, only to awaken at the sound of a footfall in the other room. She heard wine being poured into the silver goblet that had arrived this evening with her meal.
Enda entered the room and slowly pulled off his garments, folding them neatly and laying them upon the chair. Then he moved to the hearth and added some fuel to the fire. Lara noted his buttocks were nicely rounded and firm. Finally he turned to her, pausing to allow her a full measure of his manliness. Men’s bodies, Lara decided then and there, had not the beauty of a woman’s. Enda was big-boned, as were all the Forest people. He walked to the bed and, lifting the coverlet, climbed into it, reaching for her as he did so.
Lara tensed as he pulled her atop him so that their bodies were matched breast to breast, belly to belly, thigh to thigh. Her flesh seemed to melt into his hardness. She swallowed hard as a big hand caressed her from the nape of her neck to her buttocks, but she was unable to restrain the shudder that overcame her. The touch was so possessive.
“Easy, girl,” he said softly as if he were speaking to a frightened animal. The hand encircled her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly. “That’s right. Get used to your master’s touch. Be good, and you will be rewarded.” The hand fondled her again.
Just as she was getting used to it, his two hands clamped about her slim waist and lifted her up just enough to put his face in the narrow glen separating her little round breasts. She felt him breathe deeply, inhaling her scent. Then raising his head, Enda deliberately licked the flesh between her breasts. Lara’s eyes widened with surprise, and when he shifted her position just slightly to clamp his mouth over a nipple, she felt her heart skip a beat.
The brown eyes stealthily observed her every little reaction. He suckled on her nipple and was rewarded with a startled gasp. He sucked harder, his teeth gently worrying the tender nub of flesh, and she cried out softly. She was utterly charming in her surprise. He released his hold on her breast and quickly rolled Lara onto her back within the curve of his embrace. “Did you like that?” he asked her.
She hesitated, but then remembered Ethne’s advice. “Aye,” she admitted. “I did.”
“There is more to mating than the coupling,” he told her, “although with Durga you will simply be mounted and used. My brother is not a subtle man. I, on the other hand, find women who enjoy passion more enjoyable as lovers. Durga does not understand why the slave women prefer my attentions to his, except for women like Truda, who think by lying beneath him they can gain power and status for themselves.”
“But they cannot,” Lara noted quietly.
“Of course not. She is not of the pure blood,” he answered her. Then he tipped her face up to his, and kissed her. “How clever of you to see it so clearly, and so quickly, Lara.” His knuckles grazed her cheekbone. “Now enough talking, girl. If we do not get on with this business of deflowering you soon Durga will be here, and eager for his share.” He kissed her harder now.
He was the first man to ever kiss her, Lara thought. She let her mouth kiss him back, tasting him, sensing the rising desire in those kisses. What would it be like to love and be loved? she wondered briefly. Then she put the thought from her mind. Love was a luxury available to a very few, if indeed it even existed. It was not her fate to be loved.
Enda now rolled Lara beneath him, growling in her ear, “Open your legs for me, girl! I am almost ready to have you.”
Obediently she spread herself for him. This much she understood, for Susanna had explained it. She felt his fingers playing with her most intimate flesh, which sent a bolt of sensation through her. What was this? Susanna had said nothing of reciprocal feelings, but perhaps she was not allowed to speak on such things. The tingling in her nether regions made Lara uneasy, and she squirmed restlessly.
“Ahh, yes, girl, you are almost ready for me.” The fingers swirled expertly between her nether lips, playing with the sensitive nub. He half rose, putting her between his two sinewy thighs. He leaned forward, moving carefully toward his ultimate goal.
Lara watched him, fascinated, through half-closed eyes. The play of emotions across his face was most revealing. She sensed the tip of his manhood touching the entry to her body, felt him pushing his manroot into her, stopping, and then with a cry of undisguised triumph bursting through her maidenhead to fill her entirely. Lara cried out, for the momentary fork of pain caught her off guard. She struggled to unseat him, scratching and clawing at him even as the pain subsided quickly and was gone.
Enda caught at the dainty hands that fought him, pinioning them at her sides as he found his rhythm, and began to pleasure himself within her tight sheath. He groaned with his enjoyment, relishing her compactness as he was filled more and more with hot desire. Never had a woman given him such delight. He actually wept with the feelings consuming him, and realized he craved far more of her than he had any right to want. He brushed her lips tenderly, and was startled when their gazes met.
Lara looked at this man laboring atop her, and for a brief moment she felt sorry for him. His need for her seemed so genuine and so desperate. She didn’t understand why. “Free my hands, my lord,” she whispered to him. “Tell me what to do.”
He released her immediately. “Put your arms about me, and close your eyes,” he instructed her in a tight voice.
She did, drawing him down against her breasts, her fingers caressing the back of his thick neck. With her eyes closed she was more acutely aware of him inside her. She sighed and, catching his rhythm, matched it. He told her to wrap her legs about his torso, and when she did so she felt him slip deeper. She began to gain a certain pleasure herself now that she was no longer afraid or in pain.
Enda could not hold back any longer. She was too delicious, but he hadn’t had enough of her yet. Still his juices exploded forth with a ferocity that left him breathless, and Lara, surprised at another revelation Susanna had not mentioned. But when he collapsed upon her, she held him as she would have held a fretful baby, and in that moment Lara understood the power that women held over men. Men might think whatever they chose to think, but in the end women would rule the day. She almost laughed aloud. To take a man between your legs was nothing at all.
Finally his breathing grew normal, and he rolled off of her. “You show promise,” he said to her.
“I am glad if I have pleased you, my lord,” Lara told him dryly.
“I must summon Durga now,” Enda said. “He will want his share of you tonight before I may have you to myself again. Do not let him frighten you. He will be rough, and he will be quick if he is up to his usual form.” He laughed as he arose from the bed.
She lay quietly as he left the room, returning several minutes later with his older brother.
Durga viewed her with contemplative lust, his piggy black eyes bright. “Has she washed your scent off of her?” he demanded of his sibling.
“She will do so now,” Enda said. “I arose from her body immediately to fetch you, brother.” Reaching out, he pulled Lara up from the bed.
She hurried to the hearth, where the bowl of warmed water and a cloth was waiting. Susanna had advised her to always wash one’s private parts after passion. She winced, however, as she bathed herself, amazed at the amount of blood that had been shed in the taking of her virginity. When she turned back to the bed she found both men were already in it. Durga had drawn off his clothing, and she saw that while he was a big man, he did not run to fat. Lara approached the bed slowly.
“Hurry up, now,” Durga snapped. “I’ve waited for you long enough, I think.” Reaching out he yanked her atop him. “Sit up now, faerie girl, and let me play with your titties. They have a ways to grow, but they’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen!” His two big hands sat her up and grabbed at her breasts, crushing them and making her cry out.
“Gently, brother,” Enda said, laughing. “Lara is a delicate little creature, not like that big healthy cow, Truda, you’ve taken to your bed.”
“Truda knows how to give a man a good ride,” Durga answered. “You should try her sometime. She can suck a manroot better than any I’ve ever had.”
“I think I’ll keep my little faerie girl for a while,” Enda replied. “She gave me much pleasure tonight, and will give me more when you have had your turn, brother.”
“All right, wench,” Durga said, looking directly at Lara, “the time has come for you to give me a bit of that same pleasure.” He removed her from his torso, and put her on her back. Then climbing atop her he lifted his engorged manroot to her eyes, and pushed it between her two breasts, closing his eyes for a long moment. “What do you think of this one?” he demanded of her.
Knowing she was expected to comment, Lara said, “’Tis a very fine manroot, my lord. Quite different from the lord Enda’s.”
Durga laughed heartily. “Aye, mine can split a girl in two, and leave her wanting more than she ought to have.” And he roared with laughter once again. Then withdrawing himself from between her breasts, he pulled her beneath him, and without another word thrust hard into Lara’s body, groaning with delight at her denseness. His black eyes closed, a look of rapture blooming on his face as he pumped her vigorously over and over again.
She had not been ready, but he hadn’t cared. Didn’t even notice. All he had wanted was her body for his pleasure. At least Enda had made the experience a pleasant one. But Lara knew what was expected of her with this man. She cried out as if she were actually enjoying his attentions. She wrapped her legs about him, whimpering. But she felt nothing but anger at his cruelty.
With a roar and a howl he released his seed into her body. For the briefest moment he lay atop her, crushing her, but then he arose. “She’s good, brother, and with your careful schooling she will eventually be perfect. I’ve had my fair taste, and I wish you much enjoyment of her. You may have her to yourself for the autumn, but come the winter I will want her again. But I am willing to share as we have this time. Good night.” And gathering up his few garments he left them to find Truda, for if truth be known, it was Durga this night who wanted more than he ought to have.
Lara arose and bathed herself again. She was sore now, and where Enda had taken care with her, Durga had left her feeling dirtied. Returning to the bed she lay down, and waited for Enda to claim her again.
Instead he said, “Sleep now, Lara. I will stay with you, and later I shall have my pleasure of you again.” He rolled away from her, and was quickly asleep.
She was surprised, but grateful. She doubted he would be as thoughtful in the nights to come, but this was tonight. She reached for the crystal to reassure herself.
Well it is done,
she told the guardian silently.