The Handmaiden's Revenge

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

Two months prior….

“Casia! Casia!” His voice echoed off the stone walls of his home, sending shivers through the intended recipient, who was at that moment instructing the cook about the dinner to be served that evening—it would be just a small gathering. The dark-haired, dark-eyed Mistress of Lord Nor’s lair, his slave wife, Casia, was dressed in a velvet, emerald green. Her jewels were simple: a gold collar studded with precious stones that ringed her throat and connected to gold chains, which dripped more sparking stone deep into the bodice of her gown’s scooped neckline. Her breasts had been crushed together by her corset, laced to its extremes on orders from her husband, and were now bobbing and jiggling, nakedly, her n*****s about to pop from inside the constraining garment. Her hands were delicate, the fingers long and tapered, as they grazed the warm surface of the cook’s latest batch of fresh baked bread. Hearing her name boomed into the ethers of the Illusian castle, she jumped and turned accordingly.

Grabbing her skirt in her hands, she raced from the kitchen toward the main hall, “Sir, I’m here, below.”

“Now, slave!” the roar of her husband’s voice returned her call.

She took the winding stone staircase to the landing and moved quickly toward her Lord’s apartment.

“Sir,” she dutifully dropped to one knee in front of him, reached for his hand with both of hers and laid a warm kiss on his palm. Looking up, her dark eyes sought some explanation for his mood, and she was heartened to see that his attitude was not as grim and snarling as she had first thought.

“I’m hearing good things from our Southern border. Sir Sagemore has defeated Titus and his rogues and sent them into the interior of Castonia.”

“How wonderful, milord,” Casia smiled rising. “How perfect.” How relieved she was. “Sagemore has certainly earned his reward. The battle has not been an easy one, but he waged it well.”

“Indeed. Brilliant. Brilliant man.” Nor strode away from her, pacing the floor thoughtfully, not yet disclosing his apparent quandary.

The lady remembered the handsome Illusian prince, Sagemore—his fine broad shoulders, the sensuous swagger of his hips, the articulate speech, the sculpted features of his face, so finely formed, so exquisitely devised to rule and to woo. Her heart skipped gleefully at the memory, while her loins turned hot with lust. “Something troubling you, Sir?” she moved to her husband’s side, laying her hand on his sleeve. “This is such good news, and yet you fret so?”

“Fret no,” he decided immediately. He turned his gaze from the window to her face, where the gold of the afternoon sun made her tawny skin glow. “I’m elated.” Nor’s elation was a muted thing, an inner joy that rarely expressed itself outwardly.

“Then surely you could scowl less?” his wife suggested.

“Sagemore has earned his prize, my love.”

“Was this some contest?”

“Not exactly. But he has won a rightful place in my court.”

“Of course, Sir. You have none in your service greater than the man who defeated Titus.”

“What’s mine becomes his as well.”

“Yes. That is how you rule, Sir.”

“As his General, his Commander, his Lord, I can offer him no less than my greatest prize—my wife.”

Her molten eyes widened, mixing terror, excitement and mirth at this news. “I am the spoils of war, the prize?” Her face began to broaden with a smile, then she bowed reverently, “Sir, I shall graciously serve him.”

“Yes, you will.” Nor seemed despondent. “You’ll be traveling to the Southern province as soon as the journey can be arranged.”

Casia’s heart and loins were wild with fire, her veins pulsing with the rising heat of animal passion. “Is it not customary for our advocates to travel here for their reward?”

“In most circumstances, yes. But Sagamore’s physical presence in the South must be felt to ward off any further advances Titus might make. Our enemy is a cunning rogue, who can sense by his inner magic any weakness in our defenses. Sagemore stays put until Titus is finally hunted down and dispatched.”

“Then you will travel with me, Sir?” Casia wondered.

“No. Illusia needs me here, as much it needs Sagemore installed in his province. You’re a seasoned w***e and a dutiful slave. You know your Lord’s business and I trust you will carry out your responsibilities to me and to Sir Sagemore in the congenial and submissive manner in which you were trained.”

“I can do no less for you, Sir.” Every nerve in her voluptuous body was aflutter with erotic agitation, fermenting restlessly as the facts sank in.

“Good.” He seemed content, having handled this business simply.

“Well then, Sir, I should get myself prepared. You think a party of six, seven…?” she looked to him for confirmation, seeing a slightly troubled look on his brow.

“I should think that would be enough. Your two maids, comely ones, they’ll be serving me as well. And four attendants to assure your safety.”

“Is my safety at all in question?”

“Not by the route you will take. There are Illusian strongholds along the roads you’ll travel. And Sir Sagemore will have an advance party to meet you. You will, however, travel simply, without the trappings of your station. A mere slave.”

“I am a mere slave,” she bowed deferentially to her Lord, still noting something unsettled in his manner. He would, however, only deny any implications her intuition raised. Perhaps later, once he was pacified with wine and s*x he would take her into his confidence.

***

Lord Nor took his dinner in his private room with just his wife and her handmaids there to serve them. Audria and Solice were a matched set of light-haired beauties. Their shimmering golden-brown locks had been braided and were twisted at the top of their heads like coiled snakes. Their long skirts were transparent in the evening candlelight and swayed like the finest Oriental silk against their muscled thighs and tight calves. Between their legs, their cleanly shaved pubic mounds had been oiled until they shone, the nether lips rouged with red to beckon the eye. A dozen thin chains dangled between their bare breasts, grazing the smooth surfaces of skin, occasionally catching on n*****s already pierced with gold rings, those gold rings joined by a single chain. They were prepared to dance. But until they were ordered to perform, they served their Lord and lady wine, and meats, fresh bread and a deliciously fragrant pudding filled with nuts and dates—delicacies brought by traders to Illusia from the East. Aphrodisiacs… aromatic luxuries… succulent, sensuous… Casia’s head was floating in a cloud, while Nor’s eyes were fixed on the two maids.

A tune from a traveling minstrel’s flute wafted on the heady air, upwards inside the sanctuary. Nor nodded to the maids who read his intent. Moving away from the table, Audria and Solice began to dance to the simple melody that filled the ear with faraway thoughts. Their beads and breasts swayed in counterpoint, their hips undulated on air; their graceful arms were raised above, charmingly, tauntingly, while their smiles were intended to lure the man to s*x.

With body aroused, screaming for satiation, Casia dropped to the floor between Nor’s legs and began to caress his thighs. Her ardor could not be complete without her husband’s organ in her mouth. Opening his britches, she pulled the rising member from inside and swallowed it deep into her mouth. Drinking in the feral aroma of manly hormones and sweat, she made the thick c**k fully erect with her lips and tongue and sucking mouth. One hand stroked the shaft, while the other rolled his testicles over her palm like liquid flesh.

Lord Nor squirmed for a moment, then settled into the ministrations of his wife, while his eyes remained fixated on the twins. They danced independently for a time, then together hips on hips, Solice backing into Audria, the pair gyrating to their own inner rhythms, seemingly lost in female-female lust. Audria kissed her sister slave at the nape of her neck and the back of her arms, while running her hands slowly down the heated flesh, from waist to hips and along the crevice of her ass, all the while glazing at her with a seductive grin.

Solice turned so they were facing lips to lips, steamy eyes to steamy eyes. Their tongues met, traced lines upon each other’s faces, and then the clawing, clashing fire began.

Nor pushed away his wife with the back of his hand, stood, and picked up a flogger. Striding toward his tarts, he swung at will torturing the slaves as the two made love. Gasps of pain soon rent the air with anguished cries, but they did not quit their s*x. When the flogger hit, they jumped, and as the intensity of the blows increased, so did their mindless writhing. Groveling avidly into the other, the pain inspired their dance. Soon, the rain of strikes produced gasps of pleasure, not sorrow. The two succulent, shaved mounds were wet with nectar, smeared from one to the other as they undulated body into body.

Stalking them, Nor’s lust poured through his veins, beat in his heart, throbbed in his groin. He stopped the flogging and pressed his hands to the swell of their asses from behind, running his palms downward to gather juice from the center to soothe his entry. He pushed the sluts forward to the bed on the far side of the room where they mounted the mattress, asses still waving like flags. His prick unsheathed again, he pulled apart two globes of white flesh and stashed it first into Solice’ bum, f*****g her, until her breathing became ragged and she began to climax. Nor’s own climax was at the brink, but he backed off, leaving Solice coming on her own and changed his aim. Clutching Audria’s hips in his hands, he targeted her taut rosette, and plunged his half-finished erection into her bowels. She screamed happily, frantically as the huge organ pummeled her widening insides. Her body seemed to go mad. Nor reached around in front, manipulating her c******s, pinching, stretching, thrumming it until it was as hard as a tiny c**k. Suddenly, she began to shiver, she gasped for breath and her body tensed as if in agony; then it eased and tensed again. As if she were drawing tremors up through the earth, her orgasm began thundering through her, wave upon wave of quickening energy moving from her ass outward, every nerve hot and raw, scorched by her exploding fires.

The three were one mass of softly writhing flesh when the inspired Casia approached them smiling. She tapped her maids on the toes, and they jerked, looked up and read the message in their Mistress’ eyes. Slowly disentangling themselves from Nor’s exhausted body, they quietly took their leave. The pair were quite a show of satiation, naked now, white bodies marked red from the flogger, their once neat braids disheveled, Audria’s ass oozing with Nor’s come. Regardless of their resplendent afterglow, their departure went unnoticed.

“If you think I have anything left for you, ma’am,” Nor told his wife, “you’re sadly mistaken?”

“I only want to snuggle against you. I came watching you with my maids.” She smiled.

Nor ran his hand through his wife’s dark hair and stared at her comely face. “You take too many liberties, my slave; I’ll have you in my private dungeon for a week paying for your audacity.”

“But I must prepare for my trip, Lord,” she reminded him.

“And that you will.” He turned melancholy again with the same wistful expression Casia had seen earlier in his expressive face.

“You’re troubled, Sir? Don’t deny it, I read it in your eyes.”

“A trouble no man should suffer,” he said.

“And what is that?”

“The pain of a woman.”

“And what woman is that?”

“Who else? You, my slut.”

“I cause you pain? I thought that’s what you caused me,” she tried to joke.

“I may rip you apart, but there is no recompense for the pain of your absence.”

Her heart warmed to hear him speak so affectionately.

“It’s not wise to reveal so much feeling to a woman. It could be used against you.”

“True. But sometimes, in your presence, my wisdom fails me. I trust you will not.”

The proud ruler of Illusia was never more vulnerable than he was when smitten by his Casia—especially at the moment of parting. Any parting had become bitter.

“Hush, my darling. I will be gone only a short while, and you have all these lovelies in your realm ready to serve—even attempt to dethrone me—as if they could.”

“Ah, b***h! Let me have my emptiness; it’s as passionate as my full days are with you.” He took her face in her hands and held it tightly, pinching it uncomfortably. “And, don’t get too sure of yourself, too proud. You never know what little morsel of femininity might woo me from you.”

He gave his complaints with one hand ready to take them back with the other. But that was the life of a slave, to be certain of their Owner’s love—if there was love at all. This spurred their adoration and their fervor to perform well. In that, Nor’s Casia never ceased to be his slave as much as she was his wife.