The rays of dawn had just started dispersing the morning mists above the town of Bheketha. The town itself lay in ruins, ransacked, and the rebels had set up camp among the sprawling, forested hillsides that enclosed the valley.
Anaria Kaelon awoke slowly. For a merciful moment, she forgot where she was. Then it all came rushing back, crashing in. She was in the rebel encampment at Eagle Hill, inside the tent of her captor. Her captor was none other than Gorlann, the infamous gladiator-general of the rebels. He had her under his complete control. She was his slave -- sex slave especially, a naked plaything and spoil-of-war to the gladiator and not much more. Her poor father had tried to rescue her, only to be caught himself... and now a terrifying fate awaited him.
Anaria remembered well Gorlann's awful promise from the night before: 'Sleep now, bitch. You can watch me castrate your father in the morning.'
Naked, the slender, dark-haired girl found herself laying on her side on a blanket. Gorlann's muscular figure spooned her from behind. She could feel his hard cock pressed along her lower back. He had one tree-trunk thick arm draped over her. Meanwhile, the cruel giant of a man snored softly in his sleep. She tried to gently unhook his arm and slip free. From her current vantage point, she could see her father, naked and still tied to the barrel in the corner. Sitting with his wrists bound to the barrel behind him, Inarius' head sagged forward in sleep. If she could somehow undo his ropes, if they could reach the safety of the trees...
But even as these 'What ifs' swam through her head, she felt Gorlann stir and stiffen behind her.
"What's this? Is my cute slut awake?" he rumbled. His muscular arm abruptly tightened around her torso. His hand slid downward, fingering her cum-encrusted pussy.
"Did you sleep well, slave?"
"Y-yes, Master."
"Hmmm. You're filthy. This pussy smells of cum and the stench of sweat. Perhaps I should take you to the creek for a thorough washing. Would you like that?"
Anaria turned over to face him. "Yes, Sir. This slave would be grateful," she murmured. His hand shot out, cupping her chin, his steely gaze entrapping her.
"Don't worry, bitch. There will be time enough later for you to watch me castrate your troublesome father."
"No! Please don't! I'll do anything you want, anything Master!"
Gorlann snorted. "You are already my pet slave. You will already do anything that I wish, stupid cunt. You have nothing left to bargain with."
Without saying another word, the desperate teen girl did the only thing she could. She reached down, her hand making a tight fist around his already awakened shaft. She began to slowly pump her fisted hand up and down his morning wood. His hard cock felt like silken steel beneath her fingertips. She felt his cock leap and twitch in her hand as she stared down at it. Gorlann let out a sigh of pleasure, his gaze turning heavy-lidded.
"Perhaps I spoke too soon. You seem to be properly motivated... If you keep taking the initiative, who knows, slave, I might be persuaded to show some leniency to your father after all."
By now Anaria was well acquainted with Gorlann's stormy temperament. He could promise her mercy and leniency one moment and then threaten to fuck her in the ass the next, so she held out very little hope despite his promise. But if she could just keep him distracted long enough, if she could just keep her father alive long enough for a window of opportunity for escape to emerge... that was the hope that flared to life in her now, almost like an ember stoked at the very last moment.
"This slave will show her Master how much she loves him," Anaria cooed obediently. Her hand began to stroke and caress his cock even more fervently. She leaned in, parting her lips, her tongue hungrily diving between his lips, showing him her devotion. He fisted one hand in her disheveled silky-black hair, reciprocating her passion with an eagerness of his own. The two kept kissing like genuine lovers. Meanwhile, Anaria continued to give the battle-hardened gladiator a tender cock-stroking, her fingers flying up and down his manhood with a steady rhythm.
"Mmm. Enough, bitch." He gave her face a gentle slap and broke their kiss. "I want you clean and flower-fresh the next time I fuck you. Come, I'll take you to the creek to wash up. Besides, you probably have to piss, do you not?"
Anaria nodded. But now Gorlann's attention shifted.
"Well look at that, I see we now have an audience," Gorlann added with a dark chuckle. Anaria looked over her shoulder to find Lord Inarius Kaelon, her father, awake now and looking at them with tortured eyes. "Do you need to piss too, Imperium dog?"
The 'Imperium' were the elite of Prythian society; for years they had abused and exploited Prythia's commoners, forced many to fight in the Arena as gladiators just to feed their families. Now, thanks to Gorlann's revolt, that age-old hierarchy was about to crumble. For a fleeting moment, Anaria wondered miserably, 'Will my family even survive this? Will the Imperium legions from the capital ever come to save us?' Her hopes in that regard had long since dampened though. With each additional hour she spent with this brute, her cynicism grew even as her will to resist continued to weaken.
A sudden and hearty laugh now tore from Gorlann's lips. He looked down at Anaria's hand, still gripped around the base of his cock. Anaria had frozen up in mid-stroke, but Gorlann's laughter startled her. She jerked her hand away.
"No, keep it there, bitch. Keep stroking me." She resumed her attentions, her graceful fingers gliding up and down his shaft. Gorlann then made a gesture with his chin, and she followed his gaze. "You see, bitch? Even this little show has made your doting father as hard as a rock. Look!"
