Damsels in Distress (6 page)

‘You are going to have to ask for it, my lady,’ he chuckled, and Eleanor gasped as he took hold of her nearest nipple, pinching it through the thin muslin until it stood hard and proud, clearly visible through the diaphanous material. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out as he then pinched her other nipple and teased it too.

‘Be quiet you two,’ he snapped over his shoulder at the two bound and snivelling girls, before turning back to Eleanor. ‘Such little fidgets,’ he said. ‘I shall have to get Dagonard to train them better.’

Lowering his head, he began to gently chew her nipple through the muslin, and pulled gently at the hem of her gown, which was draped carelessly across her thighs. Eleanor strained her head up and watched, mortified, as the white material slid slowly, smoothly up her thighs. As soon as the first golden curls began to peek from under the muslin, he let go of it and put his hand between her knees, roughly prising her legs apart. Still chewing, first one nipple then the other, he began tracing slow circles as his hand mover up her thigh.

Eleanor was beside herself. She tried to ignore the feelings his hand was provoking. She tried to ignore the whimpers and cries of the girls in chains. She tried to ignore the nipping and nibbling at her nipples. But most of all she tried to shut out the image of Dagonard fondling his enormous cock.

‘Please,’ she moaned as Sir Peris began to stroke her nether lips with cruel refinement. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, as his fingertips brushed her clitoris. ‘A little harder, it needs to be a little harder,’ the plea emerged unbidden.

‘Do you want this?’ The question was stern, and she knew she had to answer.

‘Yes, I do…’ she gasped, starting to writhe helplessly amongst the soft furs.

‘Well then,’ Peris said slowly, ‘you are going to have to say please.’

‘Did he make you beg for it?’ There was something bright in Lynet’s eyes that Eleanor was not sure she liked, and she blushed furiously as she remembered her ordeal.

‘Please sir, fuck me,’ she had begged. ‘Please sir, I will do anything for you. I will promise to obey you.’

Eleanor could not quite believe she had begged the man. She had not merely consented to her own deflowering, she had begged for it. The man must be some sort of an evil warlock, she told herself, remembering the pain of her impalement. But the pain was quickly engulfed by a wave of pleasure, and she remembered Sir Peris’s masculine body and the scent of his musky male scent with a little shiver of delight.

He fucked her hard and long, and even after her first explosive orgasm her captor continued to fuck her. One climax seemed to flow into another, and another, each a slightly gentler release than the last. How long it had gone on for she could not say for certain.

‘Don’t worry,’ Lynet said, seeing her blushes. ‘Sir Peris always seems to make his captives plead. Now though, Dagonard will come and claim his prize, probably this morning.’

Eleanor felt her bottom twitch involuntarily as the dwarf’s name was mentioned. ‘Will he…?’ She felt herself turn an even deeper shade of red.

‘Will he make you beg for it like the master?’ Lynet said, in a bitter tone. ‘No, that you will be spared, for unlike Sir Peris, he does not care whether or not we plead.’

Dagonard did not come for her that day, nor yet the next. Sir Peris’s traps were particularly successful, and the dwarf was kept busy hauling pretty captives down into the dungeon. He stripped and whipped five maidens in quick succession, and Eleanor had to listen, her hands clutching the bars of her cage as the sound of leather on soft flesh echoed around the awful dungeon.

‘My lady, what can I say?’ he eventually smirked at her. ‘A thousand pardons for this neglect.’

The dwarf let himself into the cell straight after watering all the captives on the morning of the third day.

Naked, as she had been since after the visit to Sir Peris’s chamber, Eleanor covered her sex and breasts to shield them from his hungry, lecherous gaze.

‘Please, keep your hands at your sides, my lady,’ Dagonard requested, taking the whip from his belt as he did so, and Eleanor reluctantly obeyed.

‘My Lady Lynet, would you be so good as to excuse us?’ the dwarf asked the other naked maiden.

‘Um, yes, certainly,’ Lynet answered, sounding anxious.

‘I am obliged to you, my lady. I shall return to whip your lovely body later, for the nonce, good day.’

He held open the door to the cell and used the whip to invite Eleanor to step out. He locked the cell again, and then she felt his hand in the small of her back, urging her to move off along the dank passage. It was oddly silent, the captive maidens on both sides solemnly watching as the dwarf led Eleanor to meet her fate.

She had not far to go. The corridor of cages led to a circular chamber, which contained various grim-looking apparatus. Candles lighted it, but a forge-like fire to one side threw out light as well as intense heat, the light flickering and flaming a hellish red.

In the middle of the circular chamber was a strange thing; a flat, circular stone, two or three feet in diameter with an upright stone protruding from its centre. An oval hole had been bored through the upright, some three feet from the base. Eleanor had never seen its like.

‘The Bedwen Stone,’ the dwarf declared. ‘Very ancient and heathen. Magic too, I shouldn’t wonder. No one is sure what it was made for, but an old friar told me the druids used it for sacrificing virgins.’ The dwarf slapped the base stone hard, causing a retort to echo around the torture chamber. ‘And if the holy friar says so, well that is good enough for a poor sinner like me!’

He hopped up onto the stone and bowed with mock courteously, holding out his free hand in invitation. ‘Please join me, my lady,’ he said with twinkling eyes.

Lady Eleanor’s heart was pounding; she was naked, and there was little doubt what awaited her on that heathen alter. Yet the whip swung in Dagonard’s hand, she had nowhere to run, and she found she simply lacked the courage to say nay. As if in a trance she gave him her hand and let him help her onto the stone platform, and the dwarf positioned her by the upright.

‘Now, my lady, if you would be so good as to put your head and shoulders through the hole,’ he ordered, and she felt entirely powerless to resist him. Bending, Eleanor did as she was told, and as her arms passed through Dagonard grabbed her wrists and pulled until her torso was wedged through the oval.

‘That’s it, my lady,’ he beamed, ‘now just rest there.’

The stone was cold and a little rough, but oddly comforting. Dagonard did not let go of her wrists, but transferred both into one of his brawny hands and produced one of his thongs, and in a few deft movements her arms were bound together. Then the stunted man bent to pick up a length of thin chain from the base stone, and then looping it between her bound wrists he doubled it back and pulled until there was sufficient tension to hold her in that position. Then a padlock secured the chain into place.

‘If I might crave a moment or two more of your sweet patience, my lady?’ the dwarf sneered, then scurried out of her sight, and Eleanor heard a chink and felt her right ankle being pinioned in an iron cuff, and then the same was done to her left. There was more clinking and she felt chains tugging, pulling back first her left leg, then her right, until they were stretched wide apart and she was barely able to move any limb more than an inch or two in any direction.

And the expected punishing strokes were not long in coming.

‘I am sure that my lady would like to be warmed up for what is approaching,’ she heard him say. ‘Damsels generally find it preferable, but please, do not clench those pretty buttocks like that. I am going to spank them, but if you persist in clenching I shall have to relax those lovely chubbies with my whip.’

Eleanor tried, but her bottom twitched despite her efforts. The waiting seemed the most terrible thing. She was completely at his mercy, unable even to see him raise his arm.

She felt it though. There was an almighty crack that echoed around the depressing chamber, and she gasped as her bottom cheeks exploded with pain.

Eleanor, in her innocence, had imagined that a spanking, humiliating and undignified though it might be, would be nothing compared to a flogging with the dwarf’s terrible whip, but instantly she realised her misapprehension. Dagonard’s calloused hand was as hard as his short arm was strong. It cracked down, each strike sounding like a thunderclap as it echoed around the vaulted chamber, again and again, submerging Eleanor into a delirium of pain.

Crack
!

‘Oh, mercy!’ she wailed.

Crack
!

‘I cannot bear it!

Crack
!

‘Oh no, it is too much!’

Crack
!

‘Mercy, my bottom is afire!’

Crack
!

‘No mercy here, my lady,’ he scoffed. ‘You must be thinking of some other place.’

Eleanor fought her bonds with no effect. Her belly writhed on its stone support as the spanking hand splattered down again and again. She could not think of anything except how much her bottom hurt. The scorching, stinging, punishing hand drove everything out of her mind, except for pain.

It stung so much that for a few moments she was barely aware the spanking had stopped. Gasping, writhing, moaning and begging pitifully, tears ran freely down her flushed cheeks, but eventually it dawned on her that, though her bottom was still scalded and throbbing, no new smacks were raining down on its sore surface.

As awareness slowly returned she remembered her position; naked, helpless, bound, and at the mercy of Sir Peris’s wicked servant, who was again standing before her. Blinking away the tears she saw him waiting, fondling his groin in the lewdest manner and grinning at her, clearly enjoying her travails.

‘Well,’ he said when her sobs had subsided, ‘that was very enjoyable. Such full, firm cheeks. I swear on my honour that I never ever spanked a finer pair. It’s got me nice and hard, I must say, look.’

He flipped up the hem of his leather tunic and the monstrous thing confronted Eleanor, bobbing mere inches from her spellbound face. So close to its great purple head seemed even larger, and Eleanor could but stare wide-eyed at it.

‘Would you care to suck it, my pretty lady?’ Dagonard enquired.

‘No, please…’ she whispered hoarsely.

‘Of course,’ the dwarf said, ‘it is entirely your decision. There is one factor that you may care to consider, however. I am about to bugger you. Your bottom hole is tighter than a clam, and I have found that the girth of my thing tends to make girls squeal a little – well a lot, in truth – when I impale them.’

As he spoke the dwarf waved his straining cock from side to side, as if to emphasise his words, and Eleanor watched trancelike, her eyes following the monster from side to side as it swayed.

‘Still,’ the dwarf continued, ‘if you prefer to keep your spit to yourself, then that is your privilege. I just thought, in my usual courteous way, that a little lubrication might help your arse accept my cock more easily.’

‘No, please… let me…’ Eleanor heard herself begging, and the loathsome dwarf moved nearer with a throaty chortle. Eleanor hesitated, summoning her courage, then closed her eyes and began to lick the baton of flesh pulsing in her face. It tasted strange and salty, the smooth dome of his glans swelling even further as she tentatively touched it with the tip of her tongue.

‘That’s it, very prettily done, my lady,’ he croaked. ‘We will make a cocksucker of you yet. Now, open wider… wider… you can take it… that’s it, nice and deep, right to the back…’

Somehow Eleanor managed to accept the great cock-head beyond her stretched lips and into her mouth, thought she would gag as the monstrous thing nudged the back of her throat, but managed to calm herself and lie passively as the midget pressed his humid groin to her face and panted heavily with pleasure.

‘That’s it, good girl,’ he gloated. ‘Breathe through your nose and let my cock get nice and wet while I enjoy this for a few moments. You will thank me for it when I fuck your arse. Ooh, that does feel
very
good, but I’d better withdraw for fear of losing my load in your throat – very enjoyable though that would be – before I get inside your backside.’

He withdrew and shuffled out of sight again, and she cringed as rough hands grasped her scorched bottom, prised her buttocks apart, and a finger inquisitively probed her exposed bottom hole.

For all Dagonard’s threats, she heard him spit and knew he was using his own saliva to ease his entry into her clenched sphincter. Around and around his finger teased, tickling her rose hole into relaxation, then she tensed and the chains rattled as she felt his cock-head press against the little ring of muscle.

The pressure was even but increasing gradually, and suddenly Eleanor’s anus yielded to the intrusion and opened for him to sink his great cock into her rear passage.

‘Ooooh… aaargh…’ she gurgled hopelessly.

‘All right, easy,’ he grunted through gritted teeth, ‘easy, girl. That’s the head inside, but there’s a lot more where that came from. Just relax and let me bugger you, there’s a good girl.’

‘Oh no, please, it’s too big!’ she protested.

‘Just relax and let me fuck you deeper,’ he cajoled.