Sindrah spent the remainder of the day in the saddle with Ordis. He secured her to the pommel with the rope around her neck, looping it on the horn, then around her waist and back to the horn again for a few more turns. Often he rode with his arm around her, his beefy paw on one breast or the other. Several times he commented how much he enjoyed watching her ass bouncing on his crotch. He used the adjective "lovely" once, and "perfect" another time -- compliments that were completely wasted on her.
At some point she dozed off, waking with a start, surprised that she had been able to drift off and dismayed to see that the shadows were lengthening as the day waned. Fresh panic began to rise in her, as whatever abuse they would visit on her and her sister while in night camp became imminent. She no longer looked behind her in hopes of seeing her father leading Ironhall knights to the rescue. She had not entirely given up hope, but wished to avoid the wrenching disappointment that had accompanied every backward glance.
When Moran called a halt the sun had long set, and the last of its light was quickly fading from an indigo sky filling up with stars. Sindrah could already clearly see the constellation that Eastlanders called The Lovers -- Amivar, the god of war and virility, of martial and sexual prowess, in hot pursuit of Clea, the goddess of fertility and the hearth. One could clearly see Amivar's running legs, the helmet with its plume trailing behind, and the outstretched arm very nearly touching the graceful curve of Clea's back. One could also make out long curls streaming as she fled. Romantic tales were told of Amivar and Clea, but this night Sindrah saw it with different eyes. Perhaps Amivar was motivated not by love but by lust. Perhaps men used the former to disguise the latter. Why else would Clea be running away?
The terrain had changed from the fertile farmland found around the Ironhall fortress to rolling plains, and now they had reached the foot of The Barricade, soaring peaks that marked the boundary between Ironhall and Wolfrune clan lands.The camp was located in a jumble of boulders, some as large as huts. There was a weathered post of ironwood that appeared to have been there a while, planted deep in the rocky soil. nearby was a circle of fire-blackened stones. The location was in a hollow so that a fire built in the circle would not be seen at night from a distance, while the boulders all around provided good vantage points for lookouts.
From the camp could be seen Bloodroot Pass, one of the few ways through the soaring mountain range. Sindrah had never been this far from home, but had heard of the many legendary events which had occurred in the pass. She knew that it was named for the bloodroot plant, which grew clinging to rocky surfaces with its maroon roots covered with hair-thin, needle-edged fibers that held and drained the blood from insects and even small reptiles and birds. A person, if laying long enough in a thick patch of bloodroot, could die from desanguination.
Sindrah stared bleakly at the pass while they approached the camp, wondering what horrors and humiliations awaited her on the other side, knowing too that once she was in Wolfrune lands rescue would be far more difficult. Then she was dragged off the horse and marched to the thick post, and she began to weep quietly, knowing that she faced another ordeal before she even reached the other side of The Barricade.
She was relieved when Buco removed the rope from her neck. The rope that bound her wrists was cut, and she was pushed up against the pole with her back to it and told to sit down and reach her arms around it. She did so meekly, her big wet eyes pleading with the dark, muscled slaver but he didn't notice, lashing her wrists together again behind the post. Karissa was secured in the same manner on the opposite side. The sisters were able to entwine their fingers as a rope was wrapped round the post and both their necks several times, then tied off in a double knot. The back of her skull pressed against the post, Sindrah could scarcely turn her head without feeling the rough hemp abrading the tender flesh of her neck. Her gag, at least, was removed, and she was grateful for that. She drew her knees up against her breasts, and tucked her feet in so that her heels touched her ass. Ten strides away, the men going about making their camp and building a smokeless fire. They kept glancing over at the two naked girls on the post, talking and laughing among themselves.
"Karissa," she whispered, assuming her sister was also free of a gag. "Are you alright?"
Karissa was slow to answer. "I'm so sorry, Sin. So very, very sorry," she sobbed, her tone filled with self-recrimination and wretched hopelessness.
Sindrah was shaken to hear her usually bold and optimistic sister in such a state. "It's not your fault."
"Yes, yes it is! You would be safe at home if it weren't for me."
Sindrah squeezed her sister's hands. "I don't blame you. Please, don't blame yourself." An instant later she hissed, "That man... the captain ... he is coming over!"
Moran arrived, wrapped in his black cloak. The night was cooling rapidly at this elevation. He checked their bindings and was satisfied. "Soon you will be brought food and water. You will eat and drink all of it. With luck, by middle of day next, you will be in Wolfrune."
Karissa began sobbing softly, and the sound brought tears to Sindrah's eyes. Somehow she managed to hold them back, only because she didn't want to give Moran the satisfaction. She met his gaze -- for a moment -- but he continued to look at her, with curiosity, as though he were trying to read her mind, and finally she looked away.
"The more I think about it," murmured Moran, "The more convinced I am that Tycho Bellam will want you two for his own slave garden."
Sindrah could not stop shivering, and it was not entirely because of the quickly cooling air. "Why?"
Moran kept staring at her, which made her quite nervous. "Why? Aside from the fact that you are young, pretty and ..." He grinned wolfishly "...I expect, a virgin? And because there is something about you that will convince a discerning man that you can be made into a valuable slave girl. But as for Prince Tycho, all this will matter less than that the blood of Rycard Greve flows in your veins."
Sindrah blushed and looked quickly away at mention of her virginity. "But why?" she cried, pulling her knees up more tightly against her breasts. "Why does he hate my father so?"
Moran tilted his head. "You don't know, do you," he murmured, amused. "Well, girl, I had better leave it to Tycho to tell you himself, in his own way." He gathered the cloak more tightly round him. "It will be rather cold tonight," he observed, then grinned at her as she huddled there, shivering.
"Please," she said, "if you have two blankets ... or something...."
Moran shook his head. "A slave must earn a blanket on a cold night ... with obedience." he turned and walked away.
For a time Sindrah and her sister sat silently, floundering in their misery. Sindrah had not spent a single night away from home. She had always awakened luxuriating in the silk sheets and down coverlets of her soft bed. Heartbroken and homesick, she mulled over Moran's parting words. Through obedience a slave earned a blanket, or perhaps clothes, or the privilege of not being bound. Of this she already aware; slavery thrived in her own clan land and, as far as she knew, existed in the whole world. She just had never dreamed that this fact of slave life would ever apply to her.
She looked up to see Buco and Sorn approaching. Each carried a small wooden bowl in one hand, a handle-less wooden cup in the other. Stopping in front of Sindrah, Buco said, "I got this one." Sorn circle round to Karissa as Sindrah glanced nervously up at Buco's face. "Cap'n said to feed you." He bent over to put the cup of water on the ground, then, still bent slightly at the waist, put the rim of the bowl to her lips. "Salted meat boiled in water, some spices for flavor. Drink it up." Sindrah wrinkled her nose. It didn't smell very appetizing, but she realized she was starving, and took a sip. It was much too salty and spicy for her taste. She made a disgusted sound and turned her head, spitting it out. Some of it splattered on Buco's hand.
Scowling, Buco tried to push the rim of the bowl past her clenched teeth. Half of the contents spilled over the rim and down her chin and onto her breasts. His temper flared. "Bitch," he snarled. "Wasting perfectly good food! Not to your liking, then, princess?" He poured the rest of the broth directly on her. Chunks of the salted meat slid down the slippery curves of her breasts, splattering on her belly and running down into her patch of soft golden hair or was carried off in a rivulet of brown fluid down her sides. "Maybe I have something you'll like the taste of better!"
Heart lurching, Sindrah flinched when Buca's fat heavy cock slapped her in the face as he freed it from his trousers. She made a high-pitched sound that was half disgust and half panic and clamped her jaws shut. Buco grabbed a fistful of her tangled hair in one hand then pinched her nose tightly. She struggled in her binds holding her breath as long as she could. Buco kept the helmet-shaped head of his cock to her compressed lips, chuckling. When she could hold her breath no longer, her lungs aching, she gasped and he stuffed his member past her lips. She writhed violently as his cock, not yet fully erect, slid down her throat, gagging her. Buco groaned with pleasure and released her nose to get a second handful of hair, which he wrenched hard enough to pull strands from her scalp. "I feel your teeth, slut, and you will find out what real pain is," he growled. Her nose was pressed into the thick forest of his curly black pubic hair as she choked on his cock. Booted feet planted wide apart, legs bent at the knees, he began to fuck her mouth in earnest.
Sindrah heard a loud slap, followed by a cry of pain from Karissa, whose fingers tighted around her own. Sorn had slapped her sister, and for the first time in this horrible ordeal Sindrah felt anger. A moment later she heard her sister making a wet sucking sound and knew that Sorn was using her mouth. Then Ordis appeared -- she saw him fish his long cock from his trousers out of the corner of her tear-blurred eye. He was grinning as he watched her lips round Buco's member. "Belly is full!" he declared, rubbing his paunch. "Now time to empty my seed bags!" Sindrah groaned on Buco's cock.
In recent years Sindrah had sometimes wondered what a cock would taste like. On that day with Andor she had wanted to put his member in her mouth but her nerve failed her. Her first thought was that this cock now gliding back and forth on her tongue, gagging her as it hit the back of her throat, had been buried in her ass not that long ago. Her nose wrinkled as she could smell the pungent musk of his crotch. She tasted something slightly salty that coated her tongue, a fluid leaking from Buco's hard, throbbing manhood. But the cock itself didn't have a strong taste of its own.
What she hadn't expected was that for the second time she felt that swirling tingle of heat down deep in her core. It had happened before when Ordis had played with her pussy while she helplessly bounced on his cock during the ride of the day just passed. Again this shamefully exquisite sensation seemed to radiate through her loins as Buco pleasured himself in her mouth. Her nipples were hard as pebbles, too. She tried to convince herself it was because the broth spilled on her had quickly cooled in the chill night air.
The muscles that sheathed Buco's thighs flexed as he rocked his hips more urgently. The hairy balls that slapped Sindrah's chin became hot and tight. Sindrah closed her eyes as he groaned and pulled his cock from her mouth to rub it over her face, smearing her saliva and his precum on her flushed cheeks and across her lips. He barked at her to open her eyes and look up at him as he pushed his cock past those lips again. Not wishing her hair to be pulled out by its roots, she obeyed. His grunting became louder and more frequent. Then his body tensed and he hissed through clenched teeth as his cock jumped on her tongue and began spewing ropes of cum. She tried not to swallow, tried to hold it in her mouth. She was surprised that it didn't taste bad, being rather sweet, and slightly salty. Buco kept stroking his cock over her tongue a moment longer. She did swallow a little then tried to be patient until she could spit out the rest, but as soon as he pulled out, Buco clamped a hand roughly over her mouth, bending over her and growling, "A good slut swallows the gift a man gives her." Having been witness to his violent temper, Sindrah swallowed.
Smirking, Buco buttoned up and returned to the fire without a word. An eager Ordis immediately took his place and caressed Sindrah's face with the knob of his cock, which already oozed precum. "What a lovely slave," he crooned, gazing down at her admiringly. "I will carry to my grave the memory of you in my lap all this past day."
Sindrah was startled by his gentle tone. She had braced herself for more violence and pain. It occurred to her then that Ordis had never struck her or shouted at her. Her eyes swept the considerable length of the cock whose mushroom-shaped head brushed her soft lips. Then she closed her eyes -- and opened her mouth.
Now it was Ordis who was startled -- by this unexpected compliance. He slowly introduced his cock into her warm wet mouth, and her lips closed round the shaft while she massaged the underside of the crown with her tongue. Ordis gasped and began stroking her tangled golden hair, a beatific look on his face as he slowly moved his engorged cock back and forth on that facile tongue, trying not to make her gag.
Sindrah felt Karissa' grip on her fingers relax, and a moment later Sorn came into view, peripherally, stroking a cock slippery with her sister's saliva and his own semen and lecherously watching her service Ordis. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about him, focusing instead of what she was doing. In moments Ordis was shaking, groaning, and then filled her mouth with another prodigious load of cum. She swallowed immediately.
Reluctantly removing his throbbing member from her mouth, Ordis touched her chin. "You see, girl, being a good slave makes everything so much easier." He looked at Sorn. "No need to be rough with this one."
Sorn smirked. "I don'tneedto be rough. Iliketo be rough."
Ordis glared at him as he tucked his cock away. "Whoreson," he muttered, as he walked away.
Sorn walked up and slapped her face with his sticky cock, then with his hand, a brutally hard blow that nearly knocked her out. "Open," he growled. "Open that slut mouth!" She did, looking up at him with eyes filled with tearful resentment. Her fingers now gripped Karissa's tightly, and her sister responded with a squeeze, Sorn shoved his cock to the balls past her lip and as Sindrah choked and spluttered, her body tense and trembling, every thrust nurtured a helpless outrage flickering inside her. Sorn raped her mouth for what seemed like an eternity and when he came he growled "There's MY gift to you, little whore," having overheard Buco's previous instruction to her. He made her swallow. She glared at his back as he turned and walked disdainfully away.
"Sindrah!" gasped Karissa. "You're hurting me! Breathe!"
Sindrah felt her sisters fingers trying to escape her white-knuckled grip, and remorsefully let them go, taking her sister's advice and drew deep breaths, exhaling them slowly.
"You must survive," whispered Karissa fiercely. "Whatever you have to do -- survive."
"Our father will come for us," said Sindrah.
Karissa fell silent and Sindrah realized that her sister had lost hope. They sat there in morose silence, holding hands and bound to the ironwood post, the taste of cock and cum in their mouths. As the night deepened, a cold that crept into their very bones made sleep impossible.
At some point she dozed off, waking with a start, surprised that she had been able to drift off and dismayed to see that the shadows were lengthening as the day waned. Fresh panic began to rise in her, as whatever abuse they would visit on her and her sister while in night camp became imminent. She no longer looked behind her in hopes of seeing her father leading Ironhall knights to the rescue. She had not entirely given up hope, but wished to avoid the wrenching disappointment that had accompanied every backward glance.
When Moran called a halt the sun had long set, and the last of its light was quickly fading from an indigo sky filling up with stars. Sindrah could already clearly see the constellation that Eastlanders called The Lovers -- Amivar, the god of war and virility, of martial and sexual prowess, in hot pursuit of Clea, the goddess of fertility and the hearth. One could clearly see Amivar's running legs, the helmet with its plume trailing behind, and the outstretched arm very nearly touching the graceful curve of Clea's back. One could also make out long curls streaming as she fled. Romantic tales were told of Amivar and Clea, but this night Sindrah saw it with different eyes. Perhaps Amivar was motivated not by love but by lust. Perhaps men used the former to disguise the latter. Why else would Clea be running away?
The terrain had changed from the fertile farmland found around the Ironhall fortress to rolling plains, and now they had reached the foot of The Barricade, soaring peaks that marked the boundary between Ironhall and Wolfrune clan lands.The camp was located in a jumble of boulders, some as large as huts. There was a weathered post of ironwood that appeared to have been there a while, planted deep in the rocky soil. nearby was a circle of fire-blackened stones. The location was in a hollow so that a fire built in the circle would not be seen at night from a distance, while the boulders all around provided good vantage points for lookouts.
From the camp could be seen Bloodroot Pass, one of the few ways through the soaring mountain range. Sindrah had never been this far from home, but had heard of the many legendary events which had occurred in the pass. She knew that it was named for the bloodroot plant, which grew clinging to rocky surfaces with its maroon roots covered with hair-thin, needle-edged fibers that held and drained the blood from insects and even small reptiles and birds. A person, if laying long enough in a thick patch of bloodroot, could die from desanguination.
Sindrah stared bleakly at the pass while they approached the camp, wondering what horrors and humiliations awaited her on the other side, knowing too that once she was in Wolfrune lands rescue would be far more difficult. Then she was dragged off the horse and marched to the thick post, and she began to weep quietly, knowing that she faced another ordeal before she even reached the other side of The Barricade.
She was relieved when Buco removed the rope from her neck. The rope that bound her wrists was cut, and she was pushed up against the pole with her back to it and told to sit down and reach her arms around it. She did so meekly, her big wet eyes pleading with the dark, muscled slaver but he didn't notice, lashing her wrists together again behind the post. Karissa was secured in the same manner on the opposite side. The sisters were able to entwine their fingers as a rope was wrapped round the post and both their necks several times, then tied off in a double knot. The back of her skull pressed against the post, Sindrah could scarcely turn her head without feeling the rough hemp abrading the tender flesh of her neck. Her gag, at least, was removed, and she was grateful for that. She drew her knees up against her breasts, and tucked her feet in so that her heels touched her ass. Ten strides away, the men going about making their camp and building a smokeless fire. They kept glancing over at the two naked girls on the post, talking and laughing among themselves.
"Karissa," she whispered, assuming her sister was also free of a gag. "Are you alright?"
Karissa was slow to answer. "I'm so sorry, Sin. So very, very sorry," she sobbed, her tone filled with self-recrimination and wretched hopelessness.
Sindrah was shaken to hear her usually bold and optimistic sister in such a state. "It's not your fault."
"Yes, yes it is! You would be safe at home if it weren't for me."
Sindrah squeezed her sister's hands. "I don't blame you. Please, don't blame yourself." An instant later she hissed, "That man... the captain ... he is coming over!"
Moran arrived, wrapped in his black cloak. The night was cooling rapidly at this elevation. He checked their bindings and was satisfied. "Soon you will be brought food and water. You will eat and drink all of it. With luck, by middle of day next, you will be in Wolfrune."
Karissa began sobbing softly, and the sound brought tears to Sindrah's eyes. Somehow she managed to hold them back, only because she didn't want to give Moran the satisfaction. She met his gaze -- for a moment -- but he continued to look at her, with curiosity, as though he were trying to read her mind, and finally she looked away.
"The more I think about it," murmured Moran, "The more convinced I am that Tycho Bellam will want you two for his own slave garden."
Sindrah could not stop shivering, and it was not entirely because of the quickly cooling air. "Why?"
Moran kept staring at her, which made her quite nervous. "Why? Aside from the fact that you are young, pretty and ..." He grinned wolfishly "...I expect, a virgin? And because there is something about you that will convince a discerning man that you can be made into a valuable slave girl. But as for Prince Tycho, all this will matter less than that the blood of Rycard Greve flows in your veins."
Sindrah blushed and looked quickly away at mention of her virginity. "But why?" she cried, pulling her knees up more tightly against her breasts. "Why does he hate my father so?"
Moran tilted his head. "You don't know, do you," he murmured, amused. "Well, girl, I had better leave it to Tycho to tell you himself, in his own way." He gathered the cloak more tightly round him. "It will be rather cold tonight," he observed, then grinned at her as she huddled there, shivering.
"Please," she said, "if you have two blankets ... or something...."
Moran shook his head. "A slave must earn a blanket on a cold night ... with obedience." he turned and walked away.
For a time Sindrah and her sister sat silently, floundering in their misery. Sindrah had not spent a single night away from home. She had always awakened luxuriating in the silk sheets and down coverlets of her soft bed. Heartbroken and homesick, she mulled over Moran's parting words. Through obedience a slave earned a blanket, or perhaps clothes, or the privilege of not being bound. Of this she already aware; slavery thrived in her own clan land and, as far as she knew, existed in the whole world. She just had never dreamed that this fact of slave life would ever apply to her.
She looked up to see Buco and Sorn approaching. Each carried a small wooden bowl in one hand, a handle-less wooden cup in the other. Stopping in front of Sindrah, Buco said, "I got this one." Sorn circle round to Karissa as Sindrah glanced nervously up at Buco's face. "Cap'n said to feed you." He bent over to put the cup of water on the ground, then, still bent slightly at the waist, put the rim of the bowl to her lips. "Salted meat boiled in water, some spices for flavor. Drink it up." Sindrah wrinkled her nose. It didn't smell very appetizing, but she realized she was starving, and took a sip. It was much too salty and spicy for her taste. She made a disgusted sound and turned her head, spitting it out. Some of it splattered on Buco's hand.
Scowling, Buco tried to push the rim of the bowl past her clenched teeth. Half of the contents spilled over the rim and down her chin and onto her breasts. His temper flared. "Bitch," he snarled. "Wasting perfectly good food! Not to your liking, then, princess?" He poured the rest of the broth directly on her. Chunks of the salted meat slid down the slippery curves of her breasts, splattering on her belly and running down into her patch of soft golden hair or was carried off in a rivulet of brown fluid down her sides. "Maybe I have something you'll like the taste of better!"
Heart lurching, Sindrah flinched when Buca's fat heavy cock slapped her in the face as he freed it from his trousers. She made a high-pitched sound that was half disgust and half panic and clamped her jaws shut. Buco grabbed a fistful of her tangled hair in one hand then pinched her nose tightly. She struggled in her binds holding her breath as long as she could. Buco kept the helmet-shaped head of his cock to her compressed lips, chuckling. When she could hold her breath no longer, her lungs aching, she gasped and he stuffed his member past her lips. She writhed violently as his cock, not yet fully erect, slid down her throat, gagging her. Buco groaned with pleasure and released her nose to get a second handful of hair, which he wrenched hard enough to pull strands from her scalp. "I feel your teeth, slut, and you will find out what real pain is," he growled. Her nose was pressed into the thick forest of his curly black pubic hair as she choked on his cock. Booted feet planted wide apart, legs bent at the knees, he began to fuck her mouth in earnest.
Sindrah heard a loud slap, followed by a cry of pain from Karissa, whose fingers tighted around her own. Sorn had slapped her sister, and for the first time in this horrible ordeal Sindrah felt anger. A moment later she heard her sister making a wet sucking sound and knew that Sorn was using her mouth. Then Ordis appeared -- she saw him fish his long cock from his trousers out of the corner of her tear-blurred eye. He was grinning as he watched her lips round Buco's member. "Belly is full!" he declared, rubbing his paunch. "Now time to empty my seed bags!" Sindrah groaned on Buco's cock.
In recent years Sindrah had sometimes wondered what a cock would taste like. On that day with Andor she had wanted to put his member in her mouth but her nerve failed her. Her first thought was that this cock now gliding back and forth on her tongue, gagging her as it hit the back of her throat, had been buried in her ass not that long ago. Her nose wrinkled as she could smell the pungent musk of his crotch. She tasted something slightly salty that coated her tongue, a fluid leaking from Buco's hard, throbbing manhood. But the cock itself didn't have a strong taste of its own.
What she hadn't expected was that for the second time she felt that swirling tingle of heat down deep in her core. It had happened before when Ordis had played with her pussy while she helplessly bounced on his cock during the ride of the day just passed. Again this shamefully exquisite sensation seemed to radiate through her loins as Buco pleasured himself in her mouth. Her nipples were hard as pebbles, too. She tried to convince herself it was because the broth spilled on her had quickly cooled in the chill night air.
The muscles that sheathed Buco's thighs flexed as he rocked his hips more urgently. The hairy balls that slapped Sindrah's chin became hot and tight. Sindrah closed her eyes as he groaned and pulled his cock from her mouth to rub it over her face, smearing her saliva and his precum on her flushed cheeks and across her lips. He barked at her to open her eyes and look up at him as he pushed his cock past those lips again. Not wishing her hair to be pulled out by its roots, she obeyed. His grunting became louder and more frequent. Then his body tensed and he hissed through clenched teeth as his cock jumped on her tongue and began spewing ropes of cum. She tried not to swallow, tried to hold it in her mouth. She was surprised that it didn't taste bad, being rather sweet, and slightly salty. Buco kept stroking his cock over her tongue a moment longer. She did swallow a little then tried to be patient until she could spit out the rest, but as soon as he pulled out, Buco clamped a hand roughly over her mouth, bending over her and growling, "A good slut swallows the gift a man gives her." Having been witness to his violent temper, Sindrah swallowed.
Smirking, Buco buttoned up and returned to the fire without a word. An eager Ordis immediately took his place and caressed Sindrah's face with the knob of his cock, which already oozed precum. "What a lovely slave," he crooned, gazing down at her admiringly. "I will carry to my grave the memory of you in my lap all this past day."
Sindrah was startled by his gentle tone. She had braced herself for more violence and pain. It occurred to her then that Ordis had never struck her or shouted at her. Her eyes swept the considerable length of the cock whose mushroom-shaped head brushed her soft lips. Then she closed her eyes -- and opened her mouth.
Now it was Ordis who was startled -- by this unexpected compliance. He slowly introduced his cock into her warm wet mouth, and her lips closed round the shaft while she massaged the underside of the crown with her tongue. Ordis gasped and began stroking her tangled golden hair, a beatific look on his face as he slowly moved his engorged cock back and forth on that facile tongue, trying not to make her gag.
Sindrah felt Karissa' grip on her fingers relax, and a moment later Sorn came into view, peripherally, stroking a cock slippery with her sister's saliva and his own semen and lecherously watching her service Ordis. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about him, focusing instead of what she was doing. In moments Ordis was shaking, groaning, and then filled her mouth with another prodigious load of cum. She swallowed immediately.
Reluctantly removing his throbbing member from her mouth, Ordis touched her chin. "You see, girl, being a good slave makes everything so much easier." He looked at Sorn. "No need to be rough with this one."
Sorn smirked. "I don'tneedto be rough. Iliketo be rough."
Ordis glared at him as he tucked his cock away. "Whoreson," he muttered, as he walked away.
Sorn walked up and slapped her face with his sticky cock, then with his hand, a brutally hard blow that nearly knocked her out. "Open," he growled. "Open that slut mouth!" She did, looking up at him with eyes filled with tearful resentment. Her fingers now gripped Karissa's tightly, and her sister responded with a squeeze, Sorn shoved his cock to the balls past her lip and as Sindrah choked and spluttered, her body tense and trembling, every thrust nurtured a helpless outrage flickering inside her. Sorn raped her mouth for what seemed like an eternity and when he came he growled "There's MY gift to you, little whore," having overheard Buco's previous instruction to her. He made her swallow. She glared at his back as he turned and walked disdainfully away.
"Sindrah!" gasped Karissa. "You're hurting me! Breathe!"
Sindrah felt her sisters fingers trying to escape her white-knuckled grip, and remorsefully let them go, taking her sister's advice and drew deep breaths, exhaling them slowly.
"You must survive," whispered Karissa fiercely. "Whatever you have to do -- survive."
"Our father will come for us," said Sindrah.
Karissa fell silent and Sindrah realized that her sister had lost hope. They sat there in morose silence, holding hands and bound to the ironwood post, the taste of cock and cum in their mouths. As the night deepened, a cold that crept into their very bones made sleep impossible.