Athelnia

There is something about Lady Sabine that strikes fear into in me a manner that Athelnia never does. I have taken some powerful beatings from my owner, beatings that "enjoy" is not too strong a word to use to convey my honest feelings. Part of that of course is that I have fallen deeply in love with the woman who owns me and no pain is too much for me to bear if that serves to further her satisfaction. Sabine I am not so sure about. Perhaps it is the fact that Athelnia, having parted with a very substantial sum of money to buy me at the slave auction has good reason to look after me, Sabine has none.

But it isn't just that. Something in her dark eyes scares me to the marrow. It is surely a matter of trust. I know that my mistress will hurt me, often severely, but I do feel that she won't inflict permanent damage, or indeed threaten my very existence, although sitting on my face as I fought for air was frightening. I look into Sabines eyes again as she advances towards me. She crosses to the wall, boot heels tapping out a noisy tattoo on the stone floor. The heavy iron manacles are in her gloved hands as she moves behind me and I feel their chilled embrace as they slip into place, locking snugly around my wrists. She tightens down the bolts before crossing back for a second set. I feel these placed around my arms above the elbows, pulling my arms together and stressing my shoulder muscles.

As she draws the chain connecting the manacles up tight I grimace and let out a little cry of pain, I see the pleasure in her eyes at my discomfort and the fact that it is entirely down to her, she is enjoying the power. She studies my body briefly, twisting a nipple, before untying the laces of my shorts, allowing them to fall to my ankles. Gathering them up she throws them carelessly into the corner before taking my cock, still locked inside its silver cage, in her gloved hand, examining it rather as if it is some kind of curiosity. Our eyes meet, hers dark, mysterious and glinting with the as yet untapped potential of cruelty. Stepping back she extends an index finger towards my cock.

"I have never really understood the attraction these things hold for women. There is much more fun to be had in other ways."

Her lips curl into an enigmatic smile as she contemplates her prey, perhaps considering the potential gratification that lies before her with the profusion of agonies that she will inflict upon me. The dungeon door creaks briefly as it opens and I hear Athelnia's mellow voice behind me.

"You've not wasted much time I see."

Her friend's smile changes to one of genuine warmth as the two women embrace. It is a lover's caress, oddly shocking to one from a society where this kind of loving is only spoken of in private, and then in hushed tones. Nevertheless it is powerfully erotic. Their lips meet and Sabine forces her tongue deep into Athelnia's mouth. The redhead responds with undisguised enthusiasm, her arms about Sabine's waist, pulling the taller dark haired woman closer towards her until their two bodies merge to become one.

When they separate my mistress moves away to somewhere out of my sight. Lady Sabine stands before me now, Athelnia having retreated to the far corner of the dungeon where she sits in the shadows. In my mind's eye I imagine her long, booted legs crossed, as she becomes just a curious spectator to what is about to unfold. Once more Sabine plays with a nipple, taking it between index finger and thumb she twists until I cry out in pain. I can see the enjoyment in her eyes as I try desperately to move away, held in position before her by the iron shackles. What happens next comes as a shock. Mistress Sabine's gloved fist suddenly darts forward, burying itself into my solar plexus, driving the breath from my lungs. I hear myself gasp and immediately her other fist impacts around my right eye. I rock violently from her punches, an easy target for Sabine's wild assault. More punches rain down upon my body as she shows no mercy in the beating. Each punch is accompanied by a little gasp from her, either due to the effort involved or, and I think this may be more the case, her feeling of satisfaction at the pain she is inflicting on me.

Winded and dizzied, blood and mucus running from my nose and mouth I pitch forward falling onto my knees. She releases me from the manacles. Then I feel her, sitting astride my body, riding me as if I am her horse, powerful thighs clamped tightly around my torso. Her cries of encouragement reverberate around the walls as she rides. The stone floor, hard beneath my knees gives still more pain as I complete a circuit of the dungeon, my rider slashing at my flanks with her leather riding crop. Finally, totally beaten as I am she raises both boots from the floor so that I bear her weight entirely. She draws them in together sharply so that the spiked rowels of her spurs impact with my upper thighs. I squeal loudly as the razor sharp metal cuts into my flesh. As she raises herself from her bloodied mount I hear her laughter.

"That was great fun Athelnia. Thank you for letting me use him. He is worth every Real that you paid."

My mistress helps me climb the steps back up to her ante room. She throws a cover over me and repairs to her bedchamber where Sabine awaits her. I lie on the low couch where Athelnia has covered me with a blanket. My body aches from the assault of her friend and now I hear the soft sounds of their lovemaking. In my mind's eye I see their bodies entwined, my mistress' sweet lips running over her friend's ample breasts, sucking gently at a nipple causing it to grow hard, erect. Sabine's soft moans find their way to my ears and now my cock fights the cruel confinement of its cage, seeking an escape that does not exist as long as Athelnia carries that little silver key attached to her necklace, hanging between those gorgeous, perfect little breasts.

The following morning I take my breakfast as usual. Having already waited on the two ladies seated at their table, I eat mine from the bowl on the floor at their feet. After having cleared their dishes away Lady Sabine approaches me. Totally unexpectedly she makes an apology, saying that her beating went too far. My eye catches Lady Athelnia's who winks at me. I realise that the apology has been prompted by her. She has never used her fists on me, not that the less powerful woman would really have had the same effect as the athletic and powerfully built Sabine. I assure her that no permanent damage has been done, although my eye is blackened and swollen from her punches. We part on good terms. My owner explains that today and tomorrow, the weekend, will be given over to the celebrations.

"There is something that I want you to see." She says, somewhat mysteriously.

I follow her down to the stable block where she points to a small two wheeled cart standing just inside the tack room that smells strongly of leather from the mass of equipment hung neatly from the walls. The elegant little vehicle has been meticulously prepared by her craftsmen who are skilled at producing bespoke artefacts such as this.

"I do hope that you like it. I designed it myself especially for tomorrow's parade."

She runs a hand lovingly over the polished and varnished wood. Two curved shafts extend forward from where the pony that will provide the means of propulsion will be harnessed. It is however much too small for my mistress' horses.

"You have a pony especially for the cart?" I ask.

She smiles wistfully as I study her, the realisation suddenly coming to me that it isn't a pony that will be pulling this cart in tomorrow's parade.

"Well that's the thing. You see rumours have circulated about the province that my slave has become rather more of a pet. Now obviously this can give rise to unease amongst the population. So it occurred to me that there would be no better way to dispel this idea than for me to be seen in public, driving my slave enthusiastically, not sparing the whip, if you understand me."

I acknowledged that this was indeed a very clever, well thought out plan.

"So you see my idea is that we should lead the parade on Sunday. It is traditional to tour the city boundaries. Usually I do this on horseback but this year it will be driving this little beauty that has been created for me expressly for the purpose. And of course the populace will have ample opportunity to see exactly how an enemy of the province is being treated. It was Lady Sabine's idea by the way that a few bruises on display would not go amiss. Although I have to admit that wasn't entirely her motivation."

Lady Athelnia smiled as she made the point, running her hand along the smooth varnished sides of the trotting cart, embellished with a stylised "AS" in bright red paint to symbolise the property of Athelnia Schranzenberg, first lady, and now ruler, of the province.

"You see being a widow has its advantages in many ways. I get to live my life in exactly the manner in which I choose and at the same time there is great sympathy for my loss."

This was just the latest of many small indications that widowhood was not entirely disagreeable to my owner, who had taken full advantage of her situation to live her life in the manner that she chose, totally unrestricted by the inevitable protocols that ensued from being the wife of a ruler. We returned to the neat little conveyance before us. The two spoked metal wheels were as fine a piece of casting as I had ever seen, the leather upholstered seat generous for a single rider, cosy for two.

"Lady Sabine will accompany me on the tour of the boundaries, you will be kept fully harnessed throughout, all that will be required of you will be to provide the motive force for our progress, is that clear to you?"

I confirmed that it was and contemplated this latest turn of events which had seen me transformed from prey to a beast of burden.

Sunday morning broke cold and clear, a bright blue sky heralded fine weather for the parade. An hour before it was due to begin I was led across to the stables by my mistress to begin the harnessing process. Each of the carriages shafts was equipped with a pair of sturdy black leather straps with double buckles that gripped my forearms securely. Lady Athelnia drew them up tight, tucking the ends of the straps away neatly. Next a chest harness was buckled into place, straps running over my shoulders and connecting to the main body of thick, saddle grade leather. Once again my owner ensured a good, tight fit before attaching the reins that would give her directional control. A black leather hood completed the ensemble, ensuring that my anonymity contributed to the impression that I was indeed nothing more tan an accoutrement, there merely as an engine to enable the lady to inspect her domain. The hood had buckles on either cheek to allow the attachment of a ring bit, a circle of metal that fitted inside my mouth, holding it open in a rictus position. This appeared to serve no function other than to underline the absolute control that Lady Athelnia enjoyed over her slave.

The clock in the tower struck three, the time that the parade was due to start and Athelnia and Sabine sat side by side in the neat little sulky cart, the former holding the reins, the latter a short signal whip with a braided tail with which to provide an incentive for me to provide extra power on the parts of our route that required it, especially the uphill sections. As soon as we left the castle confines the cheering began. The crowds lining the route were four or five deep, many waving the yellow and red flags that was the Schranzenberg standard. The cheering rose in volume as Lady Sabine used her whip, three sharp cuts falling in quick succession across the top of my back, the people clearly loving this display of superiority of these two beautiful booted and black leather clad women over the representative of the enemy power, now subjugated and harnessed, subject entirely to their will.

The exultation continued as we progressed, rising to a crescendo as we reached the steepest section of the route, allowing Lady Sabine good cause to deploy the vicious little singletail with full force. I had no doubt that her uncompromising use of her weapon was creating visible signs in the form of vivid welts, possibly even open cuts, the sight of these being the cause of the blood lust rising in the crowds of onlookers as they watched their leaders punish severely the bound and harnessed representative of the enemy province. Their enthusiasm would no doubt have been diminished had they been aware of what was happening inside the silver cock restraint that now held back my burgeoning erection.

The cheering faded as the castle gates closed behind us, the tugging of the reins leading me back into the stable block where our journey had begun less than an hour before. The two women were chatting, agreeing that their plan had been a great success. Lady Sabine landed a final stroke across my back as she left, almost a congratulation in a way. I understood that in our different respects all three of us had enjoyed the day immensely. As Lady Athelnia unbuckled the straps that bound me to the shafts she leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead. I was surprised rather than shocked. Our relationship, only a few weeks old was still developing. It was entirely on her terms not mine. Nevertheless I felt a sense of pride and satisfaction at the progression of it.

If I had harboured doubts as to the wisdom of my decision to surrender myself to her on the edge of the forest when I could have made my escape they were being driven from my mind. There was no doubt that today had been a triumph for Lady Athelnia. While it had been a plan that was entirely her own in its design and execution I was in no doubt whatsoever that I had played my part in it and in its aftermath my own position was greatly strengthened. Despite the stinging of the whip cuts across my back, or maybe in part because of them, I would sleep well tonight.

To be continued...