Authors: Katherine Wyvern
Tags: #Erotic Fiction, #fantasyLesbian, #Ménage à Trois, #Romance
“It’s a lot of work for not much result, this,” said
Daria thoughtfully, and Leal gave a broken whine. She heard a sound of greenery
and snipped twigs behind her, and the next blow that landed was sharp, thin,
from a single twig, plucked clean of all leaves, like a light riding crop. It
felt cold at first, and then, immediately after, burning hot.
She cried out, she writhed, she moaned pitifully.
“Don’t make me tie you, Leal. Stay put.” There were
more swishing blows, on her butt and thighs. Leal was flat on the floor,
jolting at every blow. When the whipping finally stopped she felt her skin on
fire. She panted mutely, her face and her sex pressed down on the floor. The
cessation of the stinging blows was as good as the most loving caress she had
ever had. Tears of liberating bliss dripped from her chin.
“Ass up, princess.
I told you to kneel like a good girl.”
Leal rose to her hands and knees again, but a hard
blow landed on her back.
“Only your ass, princess.
Face down. You said you did not
ask
to be a
princess,
princess
. So, tonight, you just obey.”
Leal meekly laid her forehead on the matting, with her
eyes closed and her forearms crossed under her chest. She felt Daria kneel
between her legs and sighed, a long, deep, broken sigh. Her gift had been
accepted.
****
Daria regarded the prostrate form, and a rush of
almost unbearable desire filled her. Leal’s fine white skin was striped all
over with bright pink welts. The pattern enhanced the slim taut curves of her
body. A few of the welts were dark with blood where a fine scratch had broken
the skin.
Daria was full of a confused, dark emotion.
Shame that she had done this to her lover.
Worse shame that she had taken such pleasure in doing so.
Grateful wonder that Leal would let her do it.
Curiosity.
What did it feel like, for Leal?
Daria kneeled
between Leal’s legs and palmed her tortured buttocks. She felt a shudder
running along Leal’s body when she touched the angry welts, and she grabbed her
harder, reveling in the muffled cry coming from the hidden face.
Again, the same curiosity.
Was the pain good? Was it
something Leal accepted out of meekness, like a punishment for an imagined sin,
weathering it until it was over, waiting for the release at the end of her
ordeal? Daria did not know. She could not fathom it. She wished she could ask
Leal to switch roles sometime. She wished to try the other side of the game,
but she would never give this authority to Leal. Not to Leal. Not in this.
“Oh, princess, I always wanted to see you like this,”
she said, not referring to the red welts, but to Leal’s position.
“And to do this.”
She spread Leal’s buttocks wide, completely exposing
the twitching rose of her anus and leaned forward to lick the long open crack,
from the dripping slit of her sex to the small of her back, and down again. She
heard a broken groan of pleasure and longing, and she grinned. She briefly
licked into Leal’s slit again, then sat back to look at her.
“There’s another thing I always wanted to do. Don’t
move.”
Leal’s breath was heavy and panting. Daria pulled the
smooth heavy wooden dildo from the bundle she had brought, and she carefully
smothered it with sweet oil. When she touched it gently to Leal’s quivering
thighs, her kneeling princess let out a soft cry and shivered all over. She
pushed her slit back, begging mutely.
Daria touched Leal’s sex with the tip of the phallus,
circling the quivering labia slowly; a pearly drop of sweet, sweet moisture ran
down the smooth surface of the oiled wood. She pushed the head of the phallus
in Leal’s slit, no more than an inch, and the girl’s body spasmed. She tried to
bring her slit down over the dildo, but Daria pulled it back quickly, keeping
it barely inside her lips, circling it. When Leal moaned again, beseechingly,
Daria pulled it out altogether. Leal sobbed indistinctly in the floor matting.
Daria ran the head of the dildo up her crack, spreading lustrous oil over the
whole of it, and then with one gentle, smooth but firm nuzzling, gradual
thrust, she pushed it into Leal’s open, unsuspecting anus.
****
Leal screamed with shock and pain when the phallus
entered her. It had been gradual enough, but surprise made it feel like an
incredible violation. Daria had played with her anus before, but only softly, a
finger on her rim, a pressing thumb, no more. The pain of the unexpected,
unaccustomed penetration was so much deeper and so much, much more humiliating
than the preceding whipping that for a moment she was stunned into mute
immobility. She collapsed on the floor again, with her knees under her. The
dildo was almost ripped out of her, but not quite. Then, to her even greater
shock, as her aching writhing anus settled around the shaft of the phallus, she
perceived such an overwhelming wave of pleasure filling her clitoris and far,
far deeper inside that she moaned and rocked, wholly lost in the sensation for
a long moment.
“On your knees, princess,” said Daria sternly, and she
pushed the dildo back in, deep, deep in.
****
Daria watched as Leal went unsteadily back to her
knees, her ass up, her tear-stained face still buried in the matting.
The curved dildo stuck out of her, twitching
like the tail of a very excited terrier. Daria grinned. She grabbed Leal’s
striped buttocks and spread them wide to take in every detail of this beautiful
violation. Leal’s anus was convulsing rhythmically around the shaft of the
dildo, trying, quite literally, to get to grips with the new, uncomfortable
sensations. Daria grinned again and leaned down to lick the tender skin
stretched around the wooden shaft, and further down, into Leal’s drenched slit.
She could feel the hardness of the wooden phallus through Leal’s tense flesh.
The muffled moaning from the hidden face increased in
volume as her princess tried to get more of that, but Daria would not allow her
release yet. She kneeled between Leal’s feet and pressed her ass down a little,
until the back end of the dildo was level with her own clitoris. She started
rubbing herself on it. She sighed heavily. The slick dildo was slowly sliding
out of Leal, and Daria pressed it back in with her sex, feeling every shudder
of Leal’s body in her own flesh. Then she drew back and grabbed the end of the
dildo.
****
Leal felt Daria’s hand touch the dildo, and she
whimpered at the first thrust of it; its length buried itself inside her again
and again, longer and larger than it had ever felt. The fullness in her anus
was so new and alarming, so painful, so pleasurable, so entirely overwhelming,
that she did not think that she could bear the movement, too. She sobbed, and
yet she did not pull away. The thrusting, slow and deliberate at first and then
harder, continued. Slowly the pain abated. She stopped sobbing and realized
that she had never been so full of desire, raw, savage, deeply carnal desire.
The unaccustomed stimulation in her anus made her clitoris feel even more in
need. It clamored for more touch, more contact, tongue, lips,
fingers
. She moved a hand between her legs, not caring for
what punishment she would get for this. When her fingers touched her clitoris
all the pain dissolved and blossomed into a pleasure just as overwhelming.
“Oh, oh, oh,”
she moaned, all restraint gone, utterly forgotten. She rocked in time with the
thrusts, and rubbed herself harder, and in that moment Daria stopped thrusting.
“Lie down,” she ordered.
“On your
back, you slut.”
Leal blushed hotly at the low word.
It smarted more than any whip. Now her humiliation was
indeed absolute. She had never so completely given up her status to Daria as
when she called her that name. She did not protest, but bent her head in even
deeper submission. She had never felt so liberated from her royal destiny and
all her responsibilities. All her life she had had to be strong, to stay in
charge. It was hard to be a worthy daughter of her house, and not to be crushed
by it, harder than she could ever explain to Daria. She had had to fight every
day to be worthy, to be noble,
to
be the first and the
best. In that hut, that night, she was nothing. She fought nothing. She was
just a slut. Daria had given her this freedom, this ultimate freedom.
“Let me watch you, then, since you cannot keep your
hands off yourself,” said Daria.
Leal was wild with shame and a black, dense excitement
as she lay down in front of Daria, obedient. It was difficult to move with the
phallus half buried inside her, half protruding out of her. She had never felt
so intensely its rigidity as it both fulfilled and violated her most intimate,
secret orifice. She whimpered with pain and pleasure as the dildo touched the
floor and jerked hard inside her. She lay with her knees up and her legs as
wide open as she could. She rocked and twisted to feel the dildo’s head moving
inside her, and she stared into Daria’s face as she touched her slit first,
bathing her middle finger in slick moisture, and then rubbed her clitoris
harder and harder. She felt both ashamed of her wantonness and empowered by it.
Under her fingers, her sex was a swirl of mounting ecstasy. Never had she felt
so alive to the pleasure, so one with it, so ready to climax.
****
As Daria watched Leal touching herself, she was in a
rage of swelling desire. She had seldom seen her princess so wildly abandoned,
so entirely given up to the game, to the pure physical pleasure. When Leal’s
head fell back, her mouth open in a silent cry, Daria could not bear it any
longer. She stood up and then went to kneel over Leal’s face, pressing her own
engorged sex on Leal’s open lips. She felt her sharp intake of breath, and
then, after barely a moment of hesitation, her tongue connected, licking,
lapping, circling, delicate and delicious, yet not enough, not enough. She bore
down on the open mouth, looking for her own rhythm, her own need, rubbing her
clitoris on Leal’s teeth until the sharp, agonizing hardness made her scream in
a perfect release.
****
“They say this will help, princess,” said Daria the
morning after, rubbing a thick unguent scented with herbs on Leal’s welted
back, buttocks and legs.
“They?” asked Leal weakly.
“Paavi and Senija.
He tapped the side of his nose and said this is the
very thing for birch welts.”
“You mean that they know ... what happened in there?”
Even from behind Daria could see the blush rising on Leal’s neck.
“I don’t think so. But they saw you walking a bit
stiff at breakfast. They believe that we were both drunk as lords, our southern
heads not being strong enough for elderberry cordial, and that you passed right
out and I played a prank on you. They seem to think that this is just how
people behave in towns. They might even be right. They gave me a bit of a
scolding, in any case. Are you sure that you can ride?”
“I am,” said Leal, getting up from their fragrant hay
bed, and wincing as Daria bound her breasts again, as delicately as she could.
“I must.”
“I am so sorry, Leal. I really don’t know what got
into me.”
Leal shrugged, and then smiled, a smile so tender and
yet so full of mischief that Daria’s heart fluttered.
“It has to be said that the day after effects are ...
impractical. But I don’t regret a moment of it.”
Chapter Eleven
They left the cottage with some small regrets. Senija
and Paavi were standing by their small door waving their hands and singing out
words of good luck. The sun was still shining on the enchanting little garden,
on the peaceful meadow with its grazing flock and the rain-washed roofs of the
strange house.
It was daunting to leave that unexpected oasis of
homey comforts and plunge once more in the dark wild forest, but at least they
would not get lost again, at least not before crossing in the Elverlaen. The
path that had brought them to Paavi’s cottage went on towards the Venta’a, as
they had imagined. Not to the ancient bridge—the road was well behind them to
the south by now—but to another crossing, a ford that might be somewhat
perilous after the heavy rains, but worth checking out. If the fords should
prove too high, they could still follow the river downstream for some thirty
miles and cross on the old bridge, but it would mean wasting almost two days of
marching.
Leal prayed that the river would not be too full.
They had a quiet day to begin with. They made good
speed on the path and stopped around midday to let their horses rest and eat
the lunch that Senija had packed for them. It was a good lunch, with the
remains of yesterday’s dinner, and a bottle of apple cider. After lunch Leal
fell asleep. It was hard to stay awake after last night’s carousing, or perhaps
it was the cider. Fortunately Daria was made of sterner stuff, and she woke her
up after just a short, incredibly deep nap.
Leal felt almost drugged when she woke up. Even Daria
was yawning hugely. They splashed their faces and necks with the chilly water
from the stream, and they picked up their things, mounted their horses and rode
on.