The tavern seemed a little quieter… was it possible for a place normally filled with the heavy thudding of work boots, blaring music, boisterous laughter, and chair legs scraping across stoned floors to suddenly sound less harsh?
Saniya didn’t think so but still, the tavern seemed quieter like people were listening and watching. She could feel their eyes resting on her caramel limbs like heavy stones. One pair here, laying against the back of her neck, another sliding down her bare arms, a third hidden beneath the table at the cradling point of her hips. The lights were low but surely it was bright enough to reveal more then her silhouette.
Yes. Her eyes narrowed down to larl-like slits then snapped shut cutting out all of the vile and scandalous things she had seen during her own time of service as a paga girl within a tavern very similar to this.
She hated it!
The sounds, the smells, the food, the drinks, the invisible traffic patterns created by patrons and slaves weaving their way in and out of the crowd to sit at tables here, to serve men there, to enter at this one entrance and then exit at another.
And then there was Mikael…
Still watching her every move, her every breath, twitch, and twinge of discomfort. He paused and lifted his gaze to her lips. He had not stopped watching her since this morning when he announced that they would be eating out this evening.
It was maddening!
Frightening!
The way he pushed her back and forth, thrusting her up then dragging her down an emotional teeter-totter. First she had been rescued from a slave house, then stripped, then thrown into a cage and carted for three days with no real food… she laughed out loud again, a loud and nervous twitter… as if slave gruel could be considered real food.
“Is that what I’m doing?” she muttered. Was she comparing the niceties of slavery to anything that could pass for a real existence?
Mikael blinked away a hidden smile, tucking it into the recess of his mind.
He had heard her speak but he was in no hurry to demand her words make any sense because there was no such thing as random speech. In time, with patience, everything could be connected. Every sigh, every whimper, every utterance of joy and pain could be strung together to make sense. All he had to do was evoke it.
No. Her head shook and a wave of soft locks swept across one bruised shoulder. She wasn’t making comparisons, the situation had simply gone from bad to worse.
“Master,” called a honey voiced slave girl with golden tresses. Her words were barely audible above the loud cacophony of drums, cymbals, and ******** but you could hear her slave bells. There were five sets tied around her ankles and wrists. The last set was fastened around her waist so that the small, bronzed bells whipped against her inner thighs and sex as she moved.
“Hmmmmmm,” rumbled Mikael as his sight lifted from Saniya to the girl.
She giggled and leaned forward to set the tray down.
His hand lifted to the bells at her waist and fingered their way down until his knuckles brushed against the baby hairs curled just above her pouty little slit. It appeared that the bells had been coyly placed to gather someone’s attention. “Sit,” he commanded, his hand discreetly pushing the bells forward until they dived between her moist lips and bumped over her clit…
The girl hissed passionately, her legs spreading as her knees bent. Mikael was fully aware of the way slave girls were permitted to move. He knew instinctively how far her legs would part and which areas of her body would be most vulnerable and exposed as she moved. “Who has commanded you to present yourself like this,” he whispered, leaning forward as his hand turned to caress her bald lips. His mouth bumped over her tummy and one nipple to the fullness of her neck.
“The tavern Master,” she purred.
“No,” he said louder, his hand sliding out from between her legs as her bottom bounced to the floor. “Like this…” he added as Saniya watched his freshly dampened fingers curls into the patch of blonde fuzz covering her front.
“Ooohhh!” she exclaimed, her whole body visibly shaking as he gathered and pulled roughly at her snatch. “The Tavern Master” he chuckled, huffing a hot breath against the side of her neck as a deep blush flowered across her otherwise bare body.
“Yes,” she whispered shamefully but aroused.
“Yes what?” Mikael interjected.
“Yes Master,” she moaned, her knees digging into the floor as she strained to open herself wider to him. “Does the Tavern Master know how to handle an unshaved pussy?”
“It’s shaved,” whispered the girl. “Only the lips,” growled Mikael as his middle finger shot out pinning down and spreading the mouth of her slit in rough but careful emphasis.
“He-he does…” she cooed, swaying slightly to one side as his finger continued to push forward and into the tight little hole of her sex. “What about the other men of the tavern?” cooed Mikael in a low, soothing tone that matched the girl’s. “Some do,” she whimpered as the first notch of his finger slid deeper into the hole and began to swim back and forth.
“As good as this?” he whispered, pressing his mouth now to her ear. “Mmmmm… yes,” she panted in response, barely able to concentrate.
“And how many times have you been used tonight?” he purred, his steamy words reverberating against her.
“None yet, Master…” she cried out, her voice rising in pleasant agony as a second finger snaked its way forward to jimmy into her slit. “None yet,” he laughed loudly as the girl rocked up onto her heels. Her pale thighs tensing under the golden glow of candle flames.
Saniya turned her head quickly, not wanting to watch, knowing that the man now had room to move his hand freely with or without mercy if he pleased… “You will watch and learn!” roared Mikael then both girls’ eyes flew opened! The first, heavy lidded with lust and the second’s wide and startled.
The flicking of his wrists increased and half closed fist began to make wet slapping noises against the girls thighs. Her voice grew into a long incessant whine of passion, lifting high and blending in the melodies of the tavern.
Men from other tables turned to watch as Saniya shifted uncomfortably her nostrils flaring against the girl’s musky scent. Soon she would cum. You could see the tale-tale signs in the tauntness of her limbs, the thick, jutting peaks of her breasts, and the line of sweat that had gathered against her brow…
(I’m tired of writing but you can figure out the rest… smiles, or I may come back and finish it in the next post.)
