Flame Virgin Read online

  “I see you have learned nothing so far,” said the young judge, from his platform. “We will have a long way to go with your initiation.” The crowd applauded.

  Juna finally reached Maia. It was almost like reaching a safe haven, she thought, as she moved into the protected circle of her mistress. Here, at least, only Maia could command her. “Finally,” Maia said. “You must enjoy the attention, gathering it any way you can.”

  Juna did not answer. She made sure she stood at her full height, taller than Maia, and looked down at her. She would stay in control; keep her dignity at all costs. “Arrogant bitch,” Maia said, and smiled. “Let’s see how arrogant you are in about an hour.” She reached directly for Juna’s nipples, gave them a hard tweak. Juna flinched but did not speak. “You like that, I see,” Maia said, and did it again.

  Juna kicked her. Maia staggered back then regained her footing. Juna waited for the retaliation, but none was immediately forthcoming. Maia just stood there, looking her over with her small eyes. Then, without warning, she dashed the wine in her cup in Juna’s face. “Seamus,” she said to the young judge, “I think we’re ready to start.”

  She turned to Juna, speaking in a loud voice for the crowd to hear. “Kneel before me, and kiss my feet. From this moment, you will obey my every command until I am satisfied. Then, I will turn you over to the Commander of the guards, for the remainder of your service. I assure you that your service under him will be preferable to serving me. I am known for my imagination! Now kneel!”

  Juna knew she would die before she knelt to this horrible woman. Juna had been right in dismissing Callet, and right, within the bounds of history, to give herself to Bres. She would not submit. But she forced herself not to answer, working hard against her nature. The wine dripped into her eyes, down around her neck and shoulders, but she stared directly at Maia and stood tall.

  “Kneel! Kneel!” The crowd took up the chant. She felt herself shaking, felt sick in her stomach. She wanted to fight them, let them beat her to the ground. Then rough hands were on her arms, forcing her down. The Commander of the guards was pushing her to the ground.

  “No!” said Maia. He let her go. “She must do it on her own. Clearly, she needs to be further instructed. Seamus!” she called. The judge nodded. “Bring her to the platform,” she told the guard. He took her by the arm.

  “Come on,” he said. She glared at him. “Go!” He pulled her roughly along. “Juna, please,” he muttered. “You have to do this!”

  She stumbled up the stairs to the platform where Seamus awaited her. Seamus nodded to the guard, handing him a small cup. The guard held it to Juna’s lips and nodded. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “Drink,” he said. Juna sighed, and drank.

  “Now, Juna. Why don’t you tell the assembly what you told the tribunal? All about Bres, and how he touched you, licked you, entered you...” Seamus taunted.

  Juna felt herself flush. She would not speak. The strong strange drink coursed through her body, and the room began to recede.

  “Tongue tied?” Seamus said. He grazed his fingers lightly over her breasts. Her nipples, still stinging from Maia’s pinches, thrust forward. He smiled, and caressed her belly, so gently, and then her thighs. He insinuated his finger onto her clit, touching lightly, tickling and teasing, and his other hand softly traced the division of her nether cheeks.

  “Enough!” said Maia. “Begin the initiation!”

  Seamus chuckled. “We were just getting started, my dear,” he said. He pressed Juna against him, and she could feel him hard under his pants. “Closer, Juna, show me what you gave Bres!” She arched away from him. “Unwilling, still?” Seamus slapped her bottom. “Maia, you are right, she must be taught respect!

  “Slaves! I need two slaves!” he called. Two strong young men hopped up on the platform. “Bend her over this,” Seamus said, indicating a small padded table. The slaves grabbed Juna and pulled her over the table. Her hands were still cuffed behind her. They spread her legs, so her buttocks and labia were open and facing the crowd. Each slave took one leg to hold, fondling her thighs as they did so. The crowd cheered.

  Seamus ran his hands over her exposed parts. “Nice,” he said. Juna willed herself not to squirm. The hands were close but the voice seemed so far, so far away.

  “I want to see her face,” Maia said.

  “Turn the table,” Seamus ordered, and the slaves rotated the table so that Maia, standing below the platform, could see Juna’s face, as she lay face down, her head hanging off the table. Juna felt dizzy and disoriented.

  Juna’s field of vision was full of Maia’s face, and the forms of the crowd around the platform. She shut her eyes. She had never imagined such a scene could take place. And here she was; the main attraction in this hideous orgy. She felt present but distant.

  Then, without warning, a stinging pain shattered across her buttocks. She cried out, her eyes flying open in surprise, brought harshly back to reality. Maia’s mocking smile greeted her.

  Then another sting, as Seamus brought the crop down again. The third, lower, crossed her labia; she tried to close her legs. The slaves laughed as they held her open, fighting her strong muscles. Their fingers dug into her thighs, pulling her wide, as the crop came down again.

  To her horror, Juna felt the tears run down her face. Maia laughed. “We’re just getting started, you proud little slut,” she said. “Anyone else want to take a swat at her?” The roar of the crowd told Juna that she was going to be whipped beyond consciousness. Then the roar seemed to fade.

  To her surprise, Maia spoke again. “No, Seamus. You have had your turn. I choose you.” Juna heard steps, and saw the woolen tops of a man’s boots. Then she felt the crop again, but lightly, almost a caress. “One more,” Maia said, and the again the crop came down, whistling through the air, but no blow came across her now raw skin. The fear and anticipation of the whip twisted in Juna, playing her like a marionette. “Juna,” Maia said, “how many more would you like?”

  Juna knew the answer. She swallowed hard. “As many as you would like to give me,” she said quietly. She heard Seamus laugh.

  “Maia, she’s smarter than we thought. Let me test her resolve.” Juna saw Seamus’ feet go around, until she knew he stood behind her. Somewhere in the distance of her mind, she braced herself for more whipping.

  Instead, she felt oil poured on her seared buttocks, felt it being massaged into her pained skin. She smelled rose and lavender. The sensation traveled down her legs, warm and soothing. Hands, many, many hands, rubbed her, soothed her. Her pleasure point was teased, stroked, gently touched as warm, fragrant oil was poured all around her tender skin. Again, experienced fingers returned to her clit, knowing exactly how much, how firmly, how softly to entice. She felt herself arch and become aroused and cursed herself silently. This was worse than pain.

  “Leave her!” Maia said, and she heard Seamus laugh.

  “Jealous?” he asked. Several men laughed, and one took up the taunt. “Maia’s jealous of her slave!” he called out. “Get up on the table, Maia!” another said. “Let’s see you move like Juna!” From her limited vantage point, Juna could only see that Maia had turned away.

  Then those hands left her, and she felt strangely abandoned. Only a pair on each side held her wide. There was total silence in the room. The air tingled with knowing anticipation, as the crowd could see what Juna couldn’t. She felt herself floating, the warmth of her thighs moving to her tunnel, moistening her. At the same time the fear and anticipation of the unknown next torture fought with the arousal that had been forced on her by the strange drink and the oiled touch.

  That short-lived silence was replaced with the lightning sting of the crop, in a lash that was harder than any other had been and the worse for being unexpected. She bucked, crying out. The crowd roared.

  Her legs were quickly pulled wider than she had ever been opened, and her feminine slit was invaded by an ice-cold metal dildo, penetrating deep within her body. Her nether
cheeks were opened, and another cold, oiled dildo caressed, then invaded her behind. She squirmed and writhed, trying to fight against the hands that held her, but they were strong and relentless.

  The sounds from the room cheered the assault in rhythm. She felt a distant ache, as the pace of the plundering increased. But the pressure of the table, the insistent hands plunging the tools into her, and the shifting clouds in her mind changed that pain to crazed desire.

  Suddenly, standing before her, like a vision of terror, were the legs and swords of the guard. She could see the knife, the two daggers, and the two long swords, and as he lifted his kilt, she saw the weapon she knew and feared and longed for most.

  His cock was thick and red. Fiery red curls surrounded it, and his balls were large and potent. The head of his manhood was gleaming, as he allowed Juna to see and smell his arousal. She knew the aroma, the male and wild scent of this man.

  He approached her, and she licked her lips. He teased her mouth with his cock, around and around, without entering. She licked out with her tongue, moistening his tip. He put his hand to her face.

  The hands of her tormentors did not let up. The metal dildos jammed her, she could feel them crash against each other with only the thin membrane of her body to separate them. Other hands pinched and fondled her, pressing her, teasing her, as their frenzy increased.

  She was streaming moisture below, the speed and force were mounting, but before her, the guard played with her open mouth. The world swam in her eyes. She feared she would faint. Her breath came shorter, and she started to buck with the lower thrusts.

  Then the guard entered her mouth. With his hands on her head, he plunged deep, filling her remaining opening with his hard flesh.

  The crowd cheered gleefully at her final penetration. “Juna! Juna!” they chanted. “Free her!” came a voice. Then another shouted, “Put Maia up there!” “Get them both going!” Juna could not see around the guard, but she had a glimpse of a silver and blue dress rush by, and heard the squeals of angry frustration from Maia as she tried unsuccessfully to escape the pressing crowd. Then the voices changed to breathing as they pleasured themselves and each other while enjoying her torture.

  Juna’s breathing became labored as the thrusts increased, and with what remained of her intelligent mind she realized that she was about to climax before all these horrible people. Unable to stop herself she felt the throbbing begin, and as the guard thrust faster and harder, she rode out the orgasm while the crowd came right with her.

  His movements became fierce, and he drove his cock into her throat, coming with full force in her mouth. She swallowed so she wouldn’t choke, as he came again. Finally, with a last thrust, he rested. He pulled out, and held her head against him, stroking her hair softly, softly, gently.

  As if from a dream, she felt the cuffs being removed. Then the dream ended as the blood flowed to her hands, in agonizing pain. She felt her wrists being rubbed tenderly, and then she was lifted, and carried down off the platform. A glass of wine was held out to her, and she sipped gratefully from her trembling hand.

  She looked around for Maia, and found her leaning back against the wall. Maia’s face was red and blotched, her dress was torn down the middle, and stained with semen. Her breasts were exposed, and the rest of her had been clearly well used. Seamus was standing next to her, a smirk on his unkind face, casually fingering her breast. His pants were haphazardly closed, but he seemed not to care.

  The guard lifted Juna, and placed her, staggering, on her feet before Maia. Maia pulled her dress shut around her, but could not meet Juna’s eyes.

  “Kneel,” said the guard, and she looked up into his summer blue eyes. She saw a golden field in them. She knelt at Maia’s feet. “Kiss her feet.” She obeyed. “Stand up.” She did, and as she rose, she felt herself strong and powerful. She looked at Maia.

  “Command me, mistress,” she said evenly.

  Maia swallowed hard. “You are free to go with the Commander of the guard,” Maia answered, in a choked voice.

  “You demanded her punishment,” said Seamus, laughingly. “You chose to accuse, and sit at the judge’s table. You were, as you said, vindicated and victorious. Now you must comply with the letter of the decree. Say it,” he ordered Maia uncharitably. Juna saw that he would clearly enjoy Maia’s humiliation as much as he had enjoyed hers.

  “I am well satisfied,” Maia croaked.

  Juna looked around. The crowd, free and slave, were either asleep or drinking quietly. Some were tangled, naked, with one another. There were pools of drink, semen stains, clothes all around.

  “What happened?” Juna asked the Commander of the guard, as he led her away.

  “You happened. You took them all with you. In your submission you proved yourself stronger than they were, stronger than Maia. She could not keep you when you showed you could withstand far more than she could imagine, and not fight demons. She was so much less than you, so far beneath you, that your submission terrified her.”

  Juna shook her head. It was still cobwebbed, but her mind was working again. “Why did she let me go?”

  “You overcame her with your humility, your dignity, your beauty. She wanted Seamus, but he couldn’t keep his eyes, or his hands, off of you. Maybe he was doing it just to taunt Maia, but she was crushed. She knew that she could only master you with the crowd here, and if you were given to her, she, alone, could never best you. If she kept you, she would remain in fear of you. She had to free you while she still had the power. And now, you are mine.”

  He picked up a cast aside shawl, wrapped it around her and guided her out of the room. “Are you cold?” he asked. She nodded her head. “Hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  He led her into a small room where a fire blazed, and a table held fruit, bread and wine. He poured wine for her, still holding her. She drank, then he handed her a piece of bread. She ate it quickly. Then another, and the fruit, and more wine. She realized that she had not eaten in two days, and except for the strange drink he had given her, she had not had anything to drink either.

  Gratefully she partook of it all, still wrapped only in the shawl. Then, when she had eaten and drank, he led her to a cushion before the fire. He stroked her legs, and ran his fingers between them. She winced.

  “Do you hurt?” She nodded, looking away as the memory of the humiliation she had suffered overcame her. “Put it behind you,” he said. And he stroked her face. Then, pulling her close, he touched her intimately.

  Juna pulled away. She did not want to be touched again. But he pulled her back. He stroked her gently, but insistently. She remembered; she was his slave now. He would be kind, but she still belonged to him. She did not resist.

  “Good, Juna. You understand now.” He pulled a velvet rope, and a servant came in. “Bring water for a bath.” In minutes, a large tub was brought in, followed by ewers of warm and fragrant water. The guard motioned Juna into the tub, and poured the water over her. She felt the pleasure of the water, breathed the scent of the flowers, as he poured another pitcher over her hair.

  When she was warm and clean, he helped her stand, and wrapped her with a large, soft cloth. He dried her skin and her hair, then took a bottle of scented oil to rub her with.

  The scent made her recoil, as it brought forth the scent of the oil that had been poured on her in the punishment room. “It’s the same oil,” he said. It will remind you of both pleasure and of submission.”

  And he touched her more boldly, playing with her pleasure button, entering her slit, moving his hands where he pleased. She tried to suffer his touch in passive silence, but her body wouldn’t let her.

  She grew moist as he entered her with his fingers, and he rubbed the moisture on her thigh. “Touch me too,” he said. She stroked his gold-covered muscles with long, loving caresses. She felt the rippling beneath his skin as he moved his own hands across her body. She pressed her face against his furred chest, inhaling him deeply, and allowing the fullness of the feeling
of safety, security, to enter her heart.

  Her hands traveled lower, and she felt his erection under the rough kilt. She lifted the kilt, and ran a finger along the vein on the back of his cock. Her fingers traveled around the head, making it swell. The Commander of the guards shuddered lightly, as Juna took command of his pleasure. Juna felt for the first time the power of arousing, and with that power to please came the desire to please, and Juna gave herself over to that desire.

  He stood, and removed his armaments. The five sharp weapons clattered to the ground. “I don’t need these now,” he said. He took off his kilt, and his woolen boots, and stood before her in his nakedness. She cupped his heavy balls in her hand, then took one to her lips. She kissed it, then ran the tip of her tongue around it, and when she heard his breath quicken, she took the orb into her mouth. She sucked gently, and felt his hands tighten on her shoulders. She released that ball, and gave equal attention to the other.

  He pushed her away gently, and smiled down at her. “You’ll drive me to the brink too fast,” he laughed, “and what will be left for you?” His sparkling blue eyes danced with pleasure and desire. Then he knelt in front of her on the cushions and kissed her breasts. She felt the shock of desire permeate her again. And again, she smelled the sweet scent of submission as he rubbed more oil into her with his hand as he suckled and nipped at her nipples.

  When he lowered his lips to her mound, she opened for him without reserve, bringing her own hands to his head to guide him. But he needed no guidance as he explored her with his tongue, his lips, his fingers, all at once. She moved with anticipation, spreading wider and pulling him into her as she felt her need come to a crest.

  He pulled back, and kneeled between her legs. She was writhing on the brink, and he delayed no longer. Lifting her feet to his shoulders, he opened her labia and with a single, hard thrust delved deep into her core, deeper than anyone or anything had ever gone.