The Lost Colony

Chapter 31

"Get him hard," Velyn groaned. She lay back against the furs, her legs spread invitingly. With the youth watching, she wet two fingers and wriggled them into her slit. "Ooooh," she said. "Don't take too long though. I need it."

Talia obeyed, stroking the youth's swelling c**k while whispering into his ear. "I want you to f**k her," she said, just loud enough for those watching to hear. "Drive it deep. I want to hear her scream."

The young man grunted. Talia might have been inexperienced with women, but she knew how to handle a c**k. She stroked him expertly with one hand, focusing on the most sensitive part of the shaft near the head, while reaching her other hand between his legs to tug and squeeze his balls. In less than a minute he was ready.

"Take her," Talia urged. "Take her right now!" She practically shoved the youth forward.

There was no foreplay. The prince stumbled forward, knelt, and plunged his sleek, eager shaft into Velyn's gash.

"Yes!" the redhead moaned. "Yes, all the way in."

The youth needed no encouragement. As the drummer again picked up the pace, he began to pump. "Unh," he groaned.

Sparr slid his hand down to locate Liette's slit. She was already wet. Without turning his eyes from the spectacle within the tent, he began to tease and stroke her. The priestess moaned, grinding against Sparr's hand.

"Oh, Velyn!" Within the tent, Talia circled the partners, both admiring and encouraging them. "He's so strong," she said, trailing her fingers across the tight muscles of the prince's back.

"Hard, too," the redhead groaned. She spread herself for the man, arching her body, squeezing and tugging her breasts. "It's so good!" Copper hair spilled out artfully behind her. In fact, Sparr noted, the scene appeared to be carefully choreographed. Most of the men watching were treated to the sight of Velyn's soft body writhing against the furs. Those whose view was blocked could admire Talia as she restlessly paced. The women were treated to the prince's straining body as he plunged his c**k home.

"She likes the pretty boy," Sparr whispered hotly into Liette's ear. He held her tight, groping her breasts, and wriggling his fingers into her dripping gash. "She's never had an animal. Never been plundered in her own chambers."

"Fuuuuuuck," the priestess panted.

Within, the drummer continued to pick up the pace. Obligingly the prince did as well. His breath became audible, as drops of sweat rolled from his skin. "Hunh," he groaned. "Fuck." His body slapped against Velyn's.

Talia lay beside her friend, pressing her slim, warm body alongside Velyn's. She kissed the other girl's ear. "I want to kiss you when you cum."

"Yes," gasped Velyn. Her eyes were slits, her mouth agape. The trio may have been putting on a show, but their ecstasy was real. "Kiss me. I'm... I'm so close."

Liette was close, too. As Sparr buried and twisted his fingers in the priestess, she ground and pressed against him. Her breath was ragged, and a slow moan began to escape her lips. Sparr clamped his hand over her mouth.

The prince grunted, nearing the end of his staying power. His c**k slid quickly in and out of Velyns's slit as his hips slapped against her. "Unnnh," he groaned, then groaned again. "Fuck." He began to shake.

Meanwhile, the two maidens kissed. Talia squeezed and tugged one of Velyn's breasts with one hand while gently stroking the other girl's hair and cheek. Their lips and tongues slid together wetly.

Soon, Velyn was too close to orgasm even to kiss her friend. With eyes clamped shut and mouth wide she could do little but shudder as c**k slid into her at a rapid pace. "Oh yes," Talia said, before darting her tongue once more into Velyn's ear.

"Unnnnnnnh," the prince groaned. He kept pace with the drummer, frantically into pumping slick, female flesh until he could take no more. "f**k. Ahhhhh f**k, Oh... fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" At the last possible second he pulled out, sending an arc of c*m to splatter Velyn's chest and neck.

"Eeeee," Velyn shrieked. Talia's fingers found her c**t, sending the redhead crashing over the edge. "Ooooooooh!" she cried out. Her body thrashed against the furs as c*m dripped from her breasts. "Fuuuuuuuuuuhhh."

Held tight in Sparr's grasp, Liette shuddered into her own, powerful orgasm. Her hips bucked, alternating between pressing back against his rigid c**k, and wriggling forward to encourage his intruding fingers. "Mmmmph," she groaned, her cries muffled by Sparr's hand. When he finally eased his grip, the priestess's breath was ragged. "f**k," she said softly.

As the priestess's ecstasy subsided, so did Velyn's. "Hooooo," she said, exhaling softly. As the prince stumbled back, exhausted, Velyn and Talia embraced. They kissed gently.

The show was over. By twos and threes, the pilgrims, maidens, and princes made their way to their own, more private, tents. The Lady Affan, who had watched the show with her husband, called over a prince. "Just like he did," Sparr heard her saying, as she led the prince away. The Lord Affan returned alone to the fire, his expression unreadable.

Liette was equally difficult to fathom. How many more times would he be required to play the role of the brute? The priestess had yet to show any signs of losing interest in him. Sparr's confidence that he could entertain her long enough was growing. All he had to do was slip away at some point before they returned to Vonde. Now with Kern's offer of assistance, an escape seemed more plausible than ever.

***

They made the final approach on foot.

After another full day skirting the valley, the caravan reached the juncture where the single, desolate road to Shong broke off, heading down to the barren plain. The scene was a chaotic choke point where merchant traffic merged with caravans of pilgrims, and hordes of travelers on foot. To make it worse, stalls, shops, inns, and entertainments of various sorts were piled two or three deep along both sides. Buskers at a hundred cramped alleys called out to the travelers, urging them to sample roasting meats, purchase Origin souvenirs, or indulge in pleasures of the flesh. A stout woman garbed in a lavender and brown cloak held the leash of a young man with dull eyes. "Lords, ladies," she called out, "he has skills, I promise you! Just five minutes and you'll be on your way with a smile on your face!"

One sight in particular amazed Sparr. Just down a short alley someone had placed a piece of machinery of a similar vintage to the fallen airships. Like them, it had been stripped of any soft, or removable parts, leaving only the bare struts. Sparr couldn't tell what it had once been. An older man, panting with exertion, was thrashing the object with a tree branch. Leaves, twigs, chips of wood, and chunks of bark flew through the air in all directions. A younger man sat on an elevated chair, calling out numbers.

"... ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!" He clapped his hands with barely concealed boredom. "One hundred lashes, thank you sir, and may Omm guide you!" The older man staggered off, still struggling to catch his breath. When the man on the chair spotted the caravan, he called out anew. "Good pilgrims! No need to go all the way to Shong, you may curse the machines here, yourselves! Just five tokens each!" When the wagons showed no sign of stopping he called out again. "Three tokens!"