The Spoils of War

Chapter 7. She serves in a brothel

(It would be best to read chapters 1 -- 6 first.)

The remaining march to the docks was a blur. I was ashamed that I had become aroused by teasing that young man in front of his bride, in front of my slave sisters, and in front of my new owners. Being naked, I could not hide my shame as we walked. The catcalls commented on my firm nipples. To my shame, this only made me more inflamed.

Why was my body betraying me like this? I was no slut. I had been the demure wife of a respectable man. That was it though. I had filled my mind with thoughts of my husband while playing the part of a wanton whore. And in my mind, I imagined myself as something other than his wife. I imagined I was wearing a collar and begging for my strong husband to use me as his slave. I could not banish the thought of wearing my husband's collar as I walked.

We finally arrived at the docks. My walk of shame would end soon. The docks were filled with taverns. Well, they were probably brothels. Sheltered though I was in my small village, I knew that sailors satisfied their lustful urges in such places. I understood that my former neighbors and I were now likely to be the ones who must satisfy our new owner and his men. I wondered how lusty men must be if they would also need all of these brothels if all ships were stocked with slave girls like us. I had only known of my husband's lusts and I did not believe I had any difficulty satisfying him. Did other men need so many different girls?

At the docks, we drew a torrent of catcalls. My nipples were still firm, and the men seemed to know that I was flushed from the sexual thoughts. Three soldiers emerged from one of the establishments and immediately walked over to us. Like everyone else, their eyes seemed to consume every inch of our flesh. With our hands locked behind us, my slave sisters and I had no way to hide.

"Ahoy there," one of them greeted the Captain as they approached, "And what do we have here?"

"Girls we have purchased from the House of Bastia," the Captain replied in a friendly tone. "We'll have great use for them on our long voyage. Aren't they lovely?"

"Indeed--save for that bald girl in the back," the soldier responded. "Why is she branded as a criminal, I wonder? Could it be that these sluts hale from that village we just conquered? We had heard that the slavers acquired a number of them." He squinted his eyes and a grim expression crossed his face.

"Yes they are," said the Captain. " And what a fine haul for your soldiers. We have purchased them and are about to load them on our ship before setting sail with the tide."

All three seemed to scowl. "Many fine men were lost taking that village," another of the soldiers said, "It seems off that you and your crew will benefit from the blood of our brothers."

I wanted to smile, but the dark tone in his voice made me nervous. Would they take out their anger on us?

"We paid good coin for them," the Captain said. "And I am sure the slavers compensated the soldiers who brought him these fine captives. We trade decently and honestly with the people of your noble City. And we honor the soldiers your city has lost in battle."

"I do not doubt it," the soldier replied. "But treasure does not always compensate for the loss of good men."

"Indeed," said the Captain, "though doubtless it will bring you comfort to know the fate of those villagers who survived your raid. Their men are in chains. Some will man our oars while their women will serve as our pleasure slaves."

"As it should be," he said, stepping forward to look us over closely. "Perhaps, Captain, if you are not in a hurry, we might sample some of the compensation for the losses of our brothers."

"Hmm, for men of arms defending this fine City, we can certainly loan you the prizes your brothers bought so dearly," he said solemnly. "Though we sailors are slaves to the tides. We wish to depart early this evening, but we can spare some time to have some ale you in that tavern while you make use of these sluts." The Captain's tone was one of resignation. The soldiers were armed, a little drunk and seemed dangerous.

"We will teach these sluts what real men are like," a soldier chortled as he grabbed Belinda by her collar. "Unleash this one, I will have her."

Domina obliged as Belinda began to sob. That drew a quick stroke of Domina's whip. Belinda struggled to control herself. The other soldiers each approached Deborah and Clarissa as Domina released all of us from our leashes. The thought of running entered my mind, but I quickly banished it. My hands were chained, I was naked. I would not get far. And where would I go?

One soldier pressed his lips to Clarissa, forcing a deep kiss on her. Not wanting to feel the whip, Clarissa managed to oblige him without shedding any tears. She pressed her body to the man, perhaps sensing that if she complied it would be easier. Deborah watched and did the same.

"We've no use for that bald criminal," said the soldiers who was enjoying Clarissa's attentions, "These sluts will do. MM this one seems quite eager" He reached around to pinch Clarissa's firm ass, forcing a yelp from her lips. "Come," he barked.

The three soldiers each grabbed one of the girls by her hair and dragged them into the tavern. The Captain and Finn followed. Domina motioned menacingly with her whip for me to follow.

I felt a wave of relief and guilt. Relief that it seemed I would be spared being raped in the tavern by these men. They seemed set on vengeance and I was certain they would not be gentle. The soldiers looked like they were going to take out all of their anger at our village against our bodies. The "tavern" we entered was clearly a brothel. Even the days in the slaver's pen had not prepared me for the sight of women offering themselves to the partly drunken, grizzled clientele of this establishment. There were three girls dancing together on a large table, slowly removing each other's clothing to the delight of several onlookers. Watching as Domina led me on the leash, I could see the men hooting and offering copper coins for each little article of clothing the girls would throw them. Mostly naked girls carried drinks back and forth. Others were completely naked, cradled in men's laps in the corners, kissing and caressing the men. Several were mewing and moaning in either mock or real pleasure. All were collared. I assumed these girls were slaves, owned by the house.

I wondered whether my husband had ever entered such an establishment. Although women in our village did not discuss such things, I knew that men--married or otherwise--commonly frequented brothels. I was a virgin when we had married, but my husband certainly seemed to know to know what to do with a woman's body. It had never occurred to me before to wonder how he knew how to give me so much pleasure. I was naïve perhaps. I had assumed we were just in love and that it was obvious. But he had been free to do as he pleased before we said our vows. Men have needs and he was an honorable man.

I stared at the women serving here. They smiled, danced, and moaned in what appeared to be delight and arousal. Now that I wore a collar and was myself being led naked through such a place, however, I knew it was an act. They had to debase themselves, just as I had done. Of course, this thought reminded me that I had orgasmed in front of the Captain and the slavers in my chains. I really had--that was not an act. Maybe these girls were truly losing control too. Maybe we were all sluts, just as these men kept telling us.

The soldiers dragged my slave sisters over to a large, round wooden table. The Captain, Domina and I followed. Finn went to the bar to order ale for the men. The one holding Belinda's hair wasted no time. As he sat in one of the chairs, he pushed the former wife and mother to the ground at his feet. It was clear that he wanted to use her mouth, pulling her face to his groin. His fierce expression and firm grip on her hair made an impression on poor Belinda. She was no virgin. She had been married for many years. She understood exactly what he wanted. She unzipped him quickly and freed his cock, taking it into her mouth.

Deborah was clearly more frightened. She began to sob. "there, there my little captive," the soldier said with an obvious sense of contempt. "What's wrong?"

"I... I had a husband," she cried.

"Oh? And what did he do?" the soldier responded as he began caressing her body in his lap.

"He traded in leather goods," she replied. "We were happy. He was a good man."

"If he was such a good man he and the other villagers would have been able to protect you. Your men were nothing. Now you are our playthings. You will pleasure me, slut, as you should pleasure your masters," his eyes grew dark as he spread her legs on his lap and pulled her close to him. "Do a fine job, as I know a slut like you can, and perhaps you won't have to feel the leather across your soft skin," he laughed. "You must know what leather does to soft skin. No more crying about your husband now, or I will make you cry louder than you ever have in your life."

Deborah could do nothing but comply. She spread her legs wider. She even managed a soft groan when he impaled her with his cock. I am sure she wanted to scream.

Clarissa had composed herself well enough. At least she did until the brute who dragged her in pushed her face down onto the table and began to fondler her. Even then, one could see her stubborn nature resisting. Our eyes met. I could see she was still filled with scorn for me. She was never going to give in to the kind of shameful performances that had saved my life so far.

It seemed that the soldier required no performance from her. He just wanted to hear her cries. He raised his firm hand again and again, swatting her soft bottom. Her body jumped with each firm slap. He was a strong man, and this doubtless hurt. Stubborn Clarissa would not give him the satisfaction of crying out. She was being foolish, I thought. If it looked like she would be harmed, our Captain would doubtless intervene. He was eyeing the soldiers closely. As yet he was unwilling to stop them, but we were his property, after all. He surely would not want us damaged. At least, not by these soldiers. Her stiff upper lip would cost her dearly, and probably not for the last time.

"Make that one dance for us," the soldier swatting Clarissa shouted, gesturing at me. "Up onto the table, slut. Show your captors a lovely dance of submission while we show your sisters their places."

I flushed bright red. I do not know what a dance of submission is. I do not know how to dance for men. My husband and I had danced at our wedding and at many celebrations since. But this was certainly not what he meant. I looked at Domina. Her steely eyes told me I would have to obey. I had to dance like a whore for these soldiers.

"Yes," cried Finn, as he arrived, followed by two girls carrying ale and mugs. They were wearing some filmy silks and chains making them look like the playthings that they were. I would look that way too on the table--or worse. "Let's see how an experienced brothel whore dances," he demanded.

I would have to perform well. If they found out I had never once before set foot in a brothel, there is no telling what they might do. At the very least they would return me to Bastia and demand their money back. He would surely feed me to his dogs. They could cut out my tongue for lying first. Domina's suspicion of me must have grown. She surely saw the look of horror in my eyes as I witnessed the degrading work women were put to in this place. An experienced whore would not have been so shocked. I had to compose myself and dance like a whore.

I took a deep breath as I ascended the table. The soldiers were preoccupied with my slave sisters, but Clarissa stared up at me in anger as her tormentor abused her. I could feel the Captain's eyes on me, and Finn's too. And of course Domina watched every move with her stern gaze. I stepped up with as much grace as I could muster and moved into the middle of the table. I decided to pose for them first, to get a sense of the music before moving. I had often posed naked for my husband to urge on his lust for my body. I bent my right leg slightly so one foot was on tiptoe. Although I wanted to hide, I straightened my back to display my firm breasts for them. I put my left hand on my waist, bending my elbow. I raised my right hand over my head, making myself into a pretty display, offering myself to them. Despite what I was feeling inside I smiled.

I paused there, composing myself for a moment, imagining how I would move. I listened closely to the sounds coming from a trio of musicians in the corner, getting a sense of the rhythm. I had seen other women dancing as I entered. I could do it too. Our conquerors wanted submission from us. Three of my former neighbors were submitting in the most horrid way. They would have my submission through my movements. Perhaps if my dance were submissive enough, they would go easier on my slave sisters. And of course, I would have to convince my new owners that dancing naked in a brothel was not new to me.

I began to sway, moving my hips in a circular motion. I raised my left hand and twirled both above my head. I felt like one of those belly dancers I had heard about, swaying for men in distant lands. I slowly moved my whole body, swaying and gyrating slowly. My hands remained over my head. My breasts heaved up and down. I forced myself to keep smiling. I must be submissive, I thought. I pressed my wrists together above my head, as if they were bound. I continued to sway, gathering momentum, matching the music. I kept my wrists above me. I told myself I was a captive, my hands locked together by my conquerors.

The solider holding Belinda's mouth on his cock looked up with interest. My display had gotten his attention, at least. The Captain and Finn watched closely as they poured ale for each other and the soldiers. Their eyes never left my body, causing Finn to spill a little ale. I smiled for real at that. My head was shaved and I was branded as a criminal. But his eyes watched as my breasts heaved up and down while I twisted my body for them. The lust in their eyes affected me. I could feel my nipples grow firm. Even Domina's cold gaze warmed as she watched me sway.

But my gentle imitation of a captive belly dancer would not be enough. I tried to think about what an experienced brothel whore would do next. The arousal I was feeling would help, I thought. I would be more convincing if I were not acting. I lowered my hands to my belly. Sliding my fingers over my skin softly. I was reminded of my husband's gentle touch. I did not think a captive would be touched like that. She would be handled roughly, just like poor Clarissa, who was now beginning to whimper as her tormentor swatted her. She was bent over onto the table. Her angry face was near my feet as I twirled slowly around to display my firm ass, turning away so I could not see her angry gaze. I slid my hands up to my firm breasts, as I moved. I pressed them upwards, as if in offering to my captors. I dared to caress my nipples while I displayed myself.

My display was not helping Clarissa. If anything her tormentor got rougher. He had taken out his cock and suddenly pressed it deep into her. This made her cry out. He laughed, "enjoying that little slut?" He asked as he brought his hand firmly down onto her ass with a hard slap that could be heard throughout the tavern. That made her cry out again. He began to slide back and forth inside her, repeatedly calling her a slut. As I turned back, she closed her eyes. I was grateful I did not have to see the hate in them. It was not my fault. I was ordered to display myself. I had no choice. But my display seemed to have urged the soldier on. She would hate me for that.

Clarissa's torment had distracted me for a moment. I had slowed, and my Captain's attention had drifted off to another dancer at a nearby table. I slid to my knees before him, thrusting my thighs wide apart. I gyrated up and down on my knees as my hands slowly slid down to my tender pussy. I slid my fingers over my sex, caressing myself and moaning loudly to get his attention. I dared to peer up into his eyes, which were now firmly fixed on my writhing body. I ran my tongue over my lips, showing him my hunger for him.

My display had had its desired effect. The Captain leaned over to Finn to say, "see, Finn, she was worth it." Finn seemed less impressed, muttering something inaudible in his beer.

The Captain then addressed me. "Very Lovely, my new property, but show your captors your submission, just as they deserve," he said. "You'll have plenty of time to dance for me again, slut." The Captain shifted on his chair, drinking his beer quickly. He was eager to get on his way without more delay and wanted the soldiers to be satisfied.

I slipped forward onto all fours on the table, turning to face the soldiers. The one who had buried his cock into Belinda's mouth was grinning ear to ear. His hand was firmly in her hair, moving her back and forth. I smiled at him before pressing my head to the table in supplication. I crossed my wrists as if I were bound, I wriggled my hips, my bottom high in the air. My body still swaying, I slowly raised my torso, stretching my hands above my head, wrists still crossed. I appeared before him as a bound captive, displayed on my knees before him.

The soldier was enjoying my submissive display, much to Belinda's detriment. He thrust her head back and forth on his cock, moaning loudly. Belinda seemed to struggle to breathe, her body squirming at his feet. I could do nothing to help her except maybe encourage him to cum as quickly as possible. I arched my back, thrusting my breasts forward. My hands still above me, I stretched my thighs wide. I mouthed the words, "I am your captive" to him, though I think his eyes never rose above my firm breasts, as I squirmed on my knees on the table before him. The display seemed to have an effect, he cried out as his cock spurted deep into Belinda's throat. He continued to thrust her back and forth, his juices dripped from her mouth.

I was distracted by a moan from the other soldier. Although she was intimately impaled on his lap, Deborah was perhaps having the easiest time of it. Her soldier only had eyes for her body. She worked her thighs back and forth on him, as he egged her on, while caressing and kissing her naked body. Deborah was surely just as horrified as the rest of us, being forced into this such intimate service with these brutes. But she was not being slapped, spanked, or displayed. She pulled him tightly to her as he cried out in pleasure, filling her with his juices.

I heard a loud series of slaps, as the soldier with Clarissa continued to punish her flesh with his firm hand. I looked over, seeing his eyes on my body. My dance brought out some demon inside him, as he spanked poor Clarissa. I smiled and blew him a soft kiss. I fell to all fours to crawl before him, as ran my tongue over my mouth. I hoped I could calm him, crawling forward, offering my moist lips. It seemed to work at first. He leaned forward, taking my kiss. Our tongues met as I opened my mouth. I hoped a sweet kiss would calm him. It took all my strength to kiss this monster sweetly, but I did not want Clarissa to suffer more. I had judged this monster poorly, however. He pulled back and struck me hard across my cheek with his open hand.

"You little slut," he cried out. "Slave. Prisoner. Criminal. Shaved bald for the crimes of your village. All of you sluts should be shaved and marked." I gasped and collapsed on the table. I could hear Clarissa sob and cry out loudly. Slapping me seemed to have sent him over the edge. He cried out as he filled her with his juices.