Distant Minds

Chapter Two - Serena and the Duke

Carefully Sabbina lays back on the bed, it wouldn't do to tangle the wires from the electrodes taped to her head. The mushrooms are already clouding her vision and making her disorientated. Incoherent images float in the peak of the mirrored pyramid which encloses her. She feels her consciousness dissolving into the fog ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The morning was bright, hot for the time of year, a lovely day. But still Serena was despondent, could not join in the feeling - not of happiness, more of relief - that enveloped the town. Yesterday's battle had been brief, designed to salvage a little honour rather than to provide any real opposition to the invaders. Afterwards the city fathers had been quick to accept the terms offered by the Bastard Duke. But, small though the bloodshed may have been, some men had been sacrificed. Among the dead was her Markko, her betrothed.

Desolate, unable to settle, dressed only in a shift and plain kirtle, she idly roamed the narrow, twisting streets her mind filled with visions of her lost love and concerns for the future. Many men would welcome the chance to bed her, marry her, breed from her, but how was she to find another who would love her? She turned a corner and blindly bumped into a stalwart man, ornately dressed in cloth of gold. Oh no! The Bastard Duke in person.

She backed away and dropped a curtsey, 'I'm sorry, My Lord.'

'Rise wench!'

As she again stood he looked her up and down. 'And what have we here?'

Moving close, he ran his knuckles lightly along her soft cheek. 'Definitely worthy of further study.' He lowered the hand, linking it with the fingers of his other to lightly encircle her slender neck. She tried to draw away but was held too tightly.

Unclipping the front of her kirtle, his hands firmly grasped the yoke of her shift. He spread his arms wide tearing the material across and easing it, with the robe, off her shoulders and down her upper arms. He glanced at his two attendants who, with a well practised movement, each promptly gripped her with one hand under an elbow and the other on a wrist, locking her arms straight back and forcing her to lean forward and press her ripe breasts into his waiting palms.

Briefly he weighed her boobs then, with obvious pleasure, squeezed and fondled each in turn before bending down and taking a neat nipple between his lips.

'Yes, I think you will please me mightily.'

He turned and motioned the remainder of his escort to approach. 'Sergeant, take this one back to my quarters and inform my secretary I want her made ready to entertain me this night.'

-ooOoo-

The sergeant left her standing in the middle of a high room, her arms held straight above her head by a rope tied to a hook in the ceiling. It was of a length to keep her standing, unable to bend or sit. How long would she be left thus. Probably not long, the Duke wanted her as his plaything and wouldn't needlessly harm her unless she displeased him.

But should she make the effort to please him? With Markko gone she no longer had any wish to save herself for one special man, or indeed to save herself at all. Any respectable man would suffice to serve her need; she no longer cared who, or how many, left their seed in her. Anyway resistance was pointless, what could it achieve? Yes, she decided, she would seek to please the Duke.

It could only have been a few minutes before the door opened and a slight man with greasy hair and a pronounced limp entered the room. 'I am the Duke's secretary, tasked to superintend his possessions,' he announced.

She stood erect and motionless, kirtle gaping wide and torn shift bunched about her waist as he slowly he circled her, noting her full, firm, defenceless young breasts thrust proudly toward him. She excited him, he felt the heat of his tumescence. He rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. Yes, their master had chosen well and would undoubtedly relish possessing her, but between times he, unknown to the Duke, would also have his pleasure of her.

She totally ignored him. He gripped her chin, 'You will look at me when I talk to you. You will do all I command immediately and without question.'

Roughly he unfastened the rope allowing her to lower and massage her sore arms. 'Right, remove the rest of your clothes. Let me see what he has found to amuse us with this time.'

She again ignored him.

'So be it.' He rang a small hand bell. The door opened and two soldiers marched in. He pointed to Serena. 'Strip her.'

Before she could avoid them one grasped and held her by the arms while the other ripped away her remaining clothes. As they moved to fondle her body the secretary snapped, 'Leave her. Wait outside in case I need you again.'

He glared at her, 'A demonstration. Anytime you are slow to obey I will have them come and compel you.' He pointed to the couch. 'Now lie down there. On your back.'

Stiffly she walked toward the divan and stretched out, noting the rings fastened to the legs.

'Feet apart.'

She opened her thighs displaying an unprotected pussy. The sight drew him eagerly toward her, then the thought of the Duke's anger if he were to deliver her limp and exhausted gave him pause, stopped him from immediately plundering her charms. However much he might resent being made to wait, self preservation decreed he postpone his own enjoyment until their lord had taken his pleasure of her.

Somewhat frustrated he opened a side door and shouted, 'Where are you? We're ready.'

Preceded by, 'Wait a bit. The water has only just boiled,' an elderly, faded beauty entered bearing a light table which she placed beside Serena.

'Get started. I'll be back shortly.' He marched through the door.

'Hello, dear. I'm Lucia.' The woman carefully inspected Serena's nubile charms. 'As usual, the Duke's taste is excellent.'

She arranged the items on the table - a bowl of water, towel, folding razor, brush. 'You mustn't worry too much about that secretary. He shouts a lot, but ultimately he has to keep you fit and ready to entertain the Duke, so he can't go too far. Oh, I know he'll fuck you, probably more than the Duke himself, but once you learn to relax and think of other things while he takes you he becomes a minor irritation. It's the Duke you have to please and keep happy. . . Mostly he's a kind, gentle man, but on occasion when the pressures of ruling get too great he can become a trifle demanding and rough.'

'What do I have to do?'

'For the Duke? Nothing special, he's a normal sort of man. Mostly he'll just give you a straightforward fucking. Though when he's in a mood he may want something more - to be sucked off, to have you ride him while he plays with your tits, he may even eat you. As I said he can sometimes get a bit brusque, but that's not very often.'

'You seem to know him well.'

'I should. . . Open your legs wider dear, I've got to shave you. . . . He's got a thing about hairless pussies. Anyway. . . Yes, I should know him, I was his first. For many years I was the Old Duke's favourite, his pet pussy, until age had its way and he replaced me with a younger concubine. But, a good father that he was, the Old Duke didn't give me to one of his followers, instead he sent me to show his son, this Duke, the joys of the bed chamber. Most of what he knows I taught him. . . . Keep still, I mustn't cut you or we'll both be in trouble.'

One final stroke and Serena was hairless. Lucia carefully wiped and dried her, then lightly ran her fingers tips across the denuded mound. 'That's smooth all right. He won't be able to complain about any stubble pricking his lips.'

The old woman slid one finger between the girl's sensitive labium while another found her clit and started to rhythmically flick it. Serena felt the flutters start in her belly and arched her back to take the finger deeper. Now there were two fingers feeling for her spot, then suddenly none.

'Don't stop. Please, please.' She moaned.

Then a tongue was thrusting between her pussy lips. 'Yes! Yes! Oh Christos!' With a great shudder she climaxed.

'My, my, dear. You came quickly. I'd hardly started. It looks as if you're going to enjoy the Duke even more than he enjoys you.' She methodically packed the shaving equipment away. 'Let me get rid of this then we'll see about the hair on your head.'

As Lucia left the room she nearly bumped into the secretary.

'You finished the bitch then?'

'No, I've her hair to do, then her skin to oil and scent.'

'That can wait, he's now said he doesn't want her until late tonight.'

'I'll decide when she's ready. He may have told you to have her to hand, but I'm the one responsible for preparing her for his use. Anyway you know he's liable to change his mind if he suddenly feels horny. So I'm going to make sure she's in prime condition before we relax and eat. If necessary I can touch her up again later.'

'Have it your way, but just make sure she's ready and willing for him tonight.' He gave a grunt of disgust and hobbled away.

When Lucia returned Serena sat through her ministrations in silence, not really listening to her diatribe against the secretary. 'I don't know why the Duke keeps him. Horrible man, he's not even very efficient. Still he knows not to push me too far, any dispute and the Duke will side with me.'

Serena's long dark brown hair was now brushed out and Lucia, remarking how beautiful it was, expertly twisted it into one thick plait. Then she reached for a flask, pulled out the stopper and poured some oil into her hand; there was a delicate scent of spring flowers. Starting just below the neck, the old woman began to massage the oil into Serena's skin. It was cool and she quivered at its touch as it was worked slowly down between her breasts to her navel and her mound. Finally Lucia changed to moving her hands in small circles, spreading the oil and making Serena's skin glisten. Bit by bit she retraced her path until her hands were embracing Serena's tits, faded fingers rolling rising nipples. Then a mouth was again at her defenceless pussy, lips sucking her clit, tongue probing into her.

In a muffled voice Lucia informed her, 'I'm not just enjoying you, there is a purpose. You need to be satiated before he takes you. If you're craving for it you'll lose the calmness and poise needed to ensure you properly satisfy him. I reckon that's your weakness - you want it too much.'

Serena hardly heard her, the rousing ripples of joy from her cunni had her moaning. Uncaring of rhyme or reason, she was lost in the bliss of coming again.

Sitting up Lucia wiped her mouth before delving into her basket of materials. A second bottle produced a sweet perfume which she dabbed on the important spots behind Serena's ears, down the inside of her thighs and between her breasts.

'Right, that's it. Now we await the Duke's command. In the meantime I'll go and organise some food.'

-ooOoo-

Limping, the secretary led her via a succession of corridors to a large room, empty except for an ornate, throne-like chair to one end, which suggested it was an audience chamber. He indicated she should stand next to him, facing the chair.

They waited for many minutes until a door opened behind the throne and the Duke, now dressed only in plain doublet and hose, entered.

The secretary bowed to his master. 'My lord, here is the woman you requested. She has been made ready to minister to your desires.' Quietly he murmured to Serena, 'Drop the gown.'

Obediently she unfastened her robe. As it slid from her arms to the floor she held her head up and looked directly into eyes of the Duke, defiantly thrust her breasts forward, then covered them with her hands.

The Duke dismissed the secretary with a curt wave, 'I'll call you when I've finished with her.'

When they were alone he slowly advanced to where, naked, she waited to give him pleasure. He tapped her hands where they partially covered her exigent breasts, 'You may not hide yourself from me.'

'Why not, Your Grace?'

'Because I am your lord and would have my sport of you.'

She lowered her hands and clasped them behind her back. He reached out and ran his hand over each globe in turn, recalling its weight and softness; fondling and caressing it and brushing his thumb over the nipple making it firm. He slid his hand down her body to her mound, gently stroked its folds then pushed a finger inside.

Almost to himself he said, 'Very nice.'

Turning he crooked the finger in her cunni and used it to guide her through a side door into a candle lit room with a broad couch. Here he gathered her slight form in his arms and clasped her to his robust chest. With her body firm against his she could feel his hard and eager tool nudging her belly - ready to give her a solid, possibly brutal, fucking; it aroused a need in her that tightened her insides and sent a wet, tingling tremor to her thighs.

His strong hands grasping her firmly, he laid her on the couch. As he bent forward she instinctively opened her legs. His tongue swept up her inner thighs, toyed briefly with her clit before he nipped it with his teeth. She lay there fervently waiting for him to take her.

Ripping off his doublet and hose he stood before her - a strong, muscular, lusty man. Her eyes gazed with longing at the splendour of his large cock thrust proudly forward, like a sword waiting to give battle. It gleamed in the candle light until, with a low animal growl, he buried it in her welcoming hole.

He clutched and squeezed her boobs - the boobs of his pleasure, his bondmaid, his latest possession. She, in turn, felt for his heavy balls then slid her fingers between their bodies and rubbed her clit. Her hunger for his seed tightened her on his rod. She screamed joyously as each heavy, powerful thrust of his weapon took them closer to an ecstatic release; he shouted at her of his lust, his joy of her.

As he increased the speed of his plunges their cries turned to loud moans. Their passion intensified almost unbearably until they both came together in a mighty climax and his hot seed coursed into her.

They lay quiet for several minutes, his weight heavy on her. Then he drew back, pulling his limp cock from her now aching cunni. 'You will do very well. I think I'll keep you,' he said.

He looked around and found a heavy robe lying over a chair. Covering his nakedness with it he left the room.

Serena lay there, confused. He had been hard, demanding, brutal even. Yet she had wanted it, revelled in his use of her, at the same time as she wanted the love and gentleness her Markko had given her.

Time seemed to drift past. When, finally, Lucia came in Serena had no idea how long it had been since her ravishment.

'You did well,' Lucia said. 'He's very pleased with you.'

'Did I? Is he?'

'Yes. He's ordered that you shall have your own room, next to his. And that you are to wake him at dawn with a carafe of wine. He obviously intends to have an early morning gallop on you.'

'I'm not sure I can take it again so soon.'

'Of course you can. Anyway don't you realise what you've achieved? Even, after the twenty-five years or so he's been sowing his seed, I can still count the number of women he has set up in their own suite on the fingers of one hand. Take the last step, give him a son, even a bastard son, and he'll give you the earth.'

'I'm not sure I want his child.'

'Yes you do. Sure he's got a big brood already, but they're all girls. The eldest, at least the eldest we know of, is several years older than you. But despite the many women who have known his bed none has managed to give him an heir. Think of being the favourite of one of the most powerful men in the land.'

'Maybe.'

'Why the doubt? Not that you have any choice. If he wants a woman he takes her, and right now he wants you. Come on, where's your robe? You can't walk naked through the palazzo.'

-ooOoo-

Dawn could be glimpsed as a faint glow on the horizon when Lucia shook Serena.

'Time to go and wake the Duke. The wine is on the table by the door. Here, cover yourself in case we meet anyone in the corridor.' She handed Serena the robe.

'So early. I just want to sleep,' Serena complained.

'No doubt, but what he wants is you. You'll have to get used to the notion that your body is his to enjoy whenever he feels the need of it.'

Stiffly Serena took up the tray with its carafe of wine and single glass and followed her mentor into the corridor. It was only a few paces to the next door. Lucia stopped, 'Go straight in. Don't knock.'

Serena entered the room and halted, blind in the gloom. Gingerly she found her way to a window and drew the heavy curtains. A pale light seeped in showing her the big bed, carved and gilded at head and foot. Beside it was a table for the wine. Carefully she set the tray down, poured a glass of wine, then lent forward and put a hand on the shoulder of the sleeping Duke.

As he opened his eyes the first thing he saw were her breasts pushing down the edges of the robe. He reached out and grasped one, then took the glass in his other hand.

'Good morning, my lord,' she said, pulling away to slip off her covering. The early morning air felt chill on her bare flesh as she leaned to him again and slowly pressed her lips to his. To her surprise she enjoyed the feeling, closing her eyes in pleasure as they remained locked, mouth to mouth, until the need to breathe made him break away. With one finger he traced round the outline of her lips, then along her jawline and down the curve of a breast, circling its golden crown - flicking the nipple in its middle - then, as her breathing grew laboured with desire, to the back of her neck.

Swiftly he drained his glass, reached out to put it on the table, then gently pulled her toward him. As their lips again touched, hers parted to welcome his tongue and taste the wine. He ran his hands across her shoulders and underneath her arms then lifted her onto the bed. She rolled to one side, eased the blankets from him with one hand and, putting the other to his chest, pushed him onto his back. 'Wait, my lord, whilst I ready you. Let me taste your tool of joy.'

Serena reached between his legs to find his still pliable weapon, lent down and began licking its tip, her hand gently squeezing the thick shaft, before opening her mouth and taking the head between her lips. He sat up to watch her bobbing hair as slowly she began to glide along his length, her fingers repeatedly tightened and loosened. Her deep throated moans testifying to her enjoyment.

He closed his eyes, feeling his cock grow solid and ready to reward her with his sperm. When he groaned his eagerness for her she stretched alongside him, urged him on top and scissored her legs round his back. The broad cap of his now solid column nudged open her wet pussy. Their hips twisted against each other. She cried out as her cunni stretched to accept his thick shaft. His hands grasped her ass. He plunged deep within her, then paused.

'Hard, hard, take me hard,' she urged him.

He pulled out then rammed back into her over and over again, till she felt she would split. His stabbing made her tunnel burn and ache. Her need possessed her. She groaned, 'Yes, yes, yes.' Then cried incoherently as a vast climax consumed her. Moments later he once more filled her with his seed.

As his tool went limp he rolled from between her legs to lie quietly beside her.

Leaning across him she brushed her lips down his chest. 'Thank you. Is My Lord pleased with me?'

'Moderately. What you lack in experience you make up for with enthusiasm. I shall have to give you a considerable amount of practice.'

'I will enjoy that, Your Grace.' She leant back, closed her eyes, and drifted into a deep slumber.