Raping Her Fantasy Lover

Estate of Senmi (Natrini’s Father), Northwestern Egypt
Winter, 1258 BC
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The copious amounts of tears Natrini had shed had made her large blue eyes red and puffy and added at least seven years to her adolescent face. Standing beside her, her older sister huffed and blotted another tear away before roughly grabbing Natrini’s chin and turning it into the light to fix the kohl around her eyes. Behind the iron reinforced door the sounds of a scuffle could be heard as her recently deceased husband’s brother fought with their father’s men. Suddenly the shouts stopped and the door swung open.

Anemro’s guttural shouts snipped to sudden resigned silence as the three burly guards straightened up, their work now accomplished. They turned from the struggling form on the narrow pallet as the door boomed open with a loud clangor and regarded the two women on the threshold with expressions inviting approval.

“I cannot do this!” Natrini cried as she saw her victim for the first time since her wedding two weeks earlier. Anemro was writhing against his bonds on the narrow bed, his icy blue eyes filled with hate, anger, and a touch of fear.

Anemro’s furiously thrashing body sunk to inert dormancy momentarily when he saw Natrini and her sister, Shamisé. His neck prickled with a hot chill as he recognized Natrini; he clutched at the prospect of rescue at her hands, but the realization that she must have been complicit with his confinement quickly banished that empty hope.

His physical bondage now doubled to the bondage of humiliation at being tendered to Natrini’s eyes – she of all people – in this state. He was barbarously, mercilessly bound to the pallet. Wide, roughly hewn metal bands were locked around his wrists and ankles, each secured by four links of chain to heavy metal eyelets riveted into the corners of the pallet frame. His arms were stretched, nearly straight but with a slight bend at the elbow, upward at an angle into the corners of the pallet. His legs were spread wide and straight, secured to the lower corners of the pallet. The bands hugged his wrists and ankles just loosely enough to chaff and bruise his flesh when he struggled. It was a cruel bondage.

As if to rub his face in his helplessness, the guards had further secured him with two narrow raw leather straps that stretched tightly across the width of the pallet, one up high on his body over his sternum, and the other down low across his pubis, within an inch of the base of his cock. And, his mouth was stuffed with a fat wad of dry coarse leather, fixed in place with a tightly tied strip of burlap. His throat stung from the rasping guttural cries and screams that were all he could muster through the gag.

For a second, Natrini thought he looked relieved to see her, and it had broken her already shattered nerves. She had not been widowed a day and she was supposed to rape her husband’s twin brother. “Please, let him go. I cannot…” The slender brunette’s hands were visibly shaking as she turned to go, stopped by the passive but immovable wall of her cousin’s broad chest. Giving him a baleful look, she turned to plead her case to her older sister.

“Yes, you can!” Shamisé hissed, pulling her toward Anemro. “Our family was depending on you to bear his brother’s heir, but you went and killed him before you could do even that!” Her words were meant to taunt Anemro as much as Natrini.

Anemro’s eyes gaped wide when he heard his brother had been “killed.” His high-pitched throaty scream filled the room.

“It was an accident!” the young widow wailed, the guilty tears starting again.

However, Shamisé paid her absolutely no mind as she took out a knife and began trying to cut their captive’s clothes off beneath his bonds – at least enough to let them get about the business at hand. One of the guards moved to help while the other one, the women’s cousin, chuckled coarsely, “I almost envy you…” while baring the door to Natrini, who had begun to back away again, shaking her head in horror.

Anemro writhed and struggled like a madman when Shamisé began shredding his rumpled vestments with the knife. His eyes were blank cobalt blots of hatred and homicidal intent. He tried to curse her, but the gag permitted only the impotent, inarticulate wailings from deep in his throat. He swung his head wildly from side to side like a broken pendulum, a clear silent cry of “No!”

“Shush now,” Shamisé cooed at their captive, sitting beside him and beginning to stroke his hair. “This won’t be so bad. We all saw how you looked at my baby sister while your brother was courting her. I even saw you two kiss once, so I know you are attracted to her.” Her eyes glittered and she smirked at Natrini’s gasp. So they had thought themselves alone? How cute. “Now, she is here to fulfill all your dreams.” She dropped her head against the side of his face, pressing her temple hard against his and holding his other cheek with her hand. “Haven’t you ever wished a woman would be more commanding in bed?” Her eyebrows rose in question. “Well, today is your lucky day.”

The chain links sang a frantic rattling chime as Anemro yanked with all his strength against his bindings, the strong muscles of his arms and legs flexing and threatening to burst through the flesh encasing them in the hopeless struggle. Her head against his was like a splash of acid. He fought her hand with his head, pulling it to break her grip on his cheek. A woman commanding him in bed? They meant to rape him! Emasculate him! His stifled throaty screams needed no words to express his vitriolic reply. He imagined himself breaking free and pouncing on Shamisé, pinning her down and throttling her slowly to death.

As Shamisé pulled up enough to smile toothily down at him, her hand began stroking the coarse hairs around his currently flaccid manhood, raking her nails down over his balls and along the inside of his thighs. “Take off your clothes, Natrini.” She instructed helpfully. “Let him see the body he has been dreaming about…” she grinned at him and lowered herself to nip at his ear. “You envied him, didn’t you? Wanted to fuck your own brother’s wife…”

She was a demon, pure evil in corporeal form, he thought to himself. He shivered all over at the feel of her nails teasing his sac and his thighs. His struggles abated as Shamisé’s touch blatantly reminded him that he was a man, his loins easily enslaved by the least provocation.

His body remained angrily tense as her words jabbed into his mind and exposed the secrets concealed there. His involuntary rolling moan, almost a cry of contrition, confirmed her indictment against him. He was restive for just an instant. He could see in her wicked eyes that she had heard his silent confession of fraternal envy and shameless lust. He hated her for this. He growled with menace and jerked his limbs in frustration and anger.

Soothingly, Shamisé shushed him, planting tiny kisses along the side of his face. “That’s really very wicked of you, Anemro… though not nearly as wicked as Natrini daydreaming that it was you and not her rightful husband who had plucked her.” At the foot of the bed, Natrini still stood – held in place by the guard – and hugging herself, and thus looking more like a frightened virgin than she had on her wedding day. “She confessed it all to me, you see. We are very close, my sister and I.” Shamisé continued to stroke him.

“Gnnrrgggh!” Anemro’s muffled scream rent the air. “Nnggrrrnnn!” he cried gratingly from the bottom of his throat. He willed the venom of the Gods befall this bitch at once! And Natrini was her ally! She had sinned against his brother with her adulterous thoughts, desires, for him! Even as she slept with her husband, as Shamisé had said. Natrini must have killed his brother – to have him! They had to tie him up for this! It was clear now. The pallet creaked and shook violently as he struggled anew and tried to buck up through the tight punishing straps.

“Oh, please, leave him be…” Natrini whispered thickly, physically pushing into the guard so that he held her shoulders between his hands. He had orders not to let her out of the room until the deed was done. “It is bad enough that he must be restrained, must you mock him as well?” She had balled her hands into tiny fists, nails digging into her palms.

Shamisé did not even look at her sister. Seven years older and married six years before she had been widowed, Shamisé had the exotic dark blonde hair and green eyes of their mother’s people to the far north. Ignoring Natrini, she bit Anemro’s bare shoulder and slipped one finger beneath his gag, tightening it slightly where it was pushed between his teeth. “She’s going to mount you, Anemro…” the blonde whispered huskily against his throat as she kissed her way to his mouth, “Mount you and ride you hard until you explode inside of her…” she was panting with desire. “I wish I could too.” She nipped at his lower lip, having to hold his head still with her hands. “Maybe, once she’s pregnant…”

Anemro’s head burst into sickening pain and his vision clouded. Natrini was going to fuck him! He wanted it! No! No! He did not want it! They wanted him to seed her. Now it all was clear! To have an heir from his brother’s line. The bastards! The bitches!

He could not let her do it! His brother just dead … their desire sinful … his fantasy fulfilled … this nightmare impossible … he wanted to fuck her … she could not have his child … he must deny them … he was helpless against them … he lusted for her … no no no! The bitch wanted him as spoils after they were through with him! Nooooo! The war in his head raged on with no end.

He snapped his head hard, pulling away from Shamisé’s lips, sputtering at her as he did and expelling a few droplets of saliva from the side of the gag. He rocked his head within the grasp of her hands, trying to break free from her. She was a cruel tormentor. He would kill her! He struggled through the gag to tell her, “Fuck you and her, go to Hades,” and, although the muffled scream that came out was no where remotely close to those words, the tone of his throat said it all quite plainly.

Drawing away and scowling at him, Shamisé hissed, “You should be nice. This will be enjoyable.” Her green eyes glittered cruelly, “Though personally I hope you resist. It will be so much more fun to watch Natrini wallow in self-hatred at enjoying taking you against your will.”

He shot her an icy glare that surely screamed “kill,” and pursed his lips as much as he could against the restraint of the burlap as if to spit at her.

Her hard emerald eyes turned to her sister, whose cheeks were streaked with black. With an exasperated noise, Shamisé marched over to her sister and began forcibly removing her soft white robe. Terrified anew, Natrini struggled in vain to get away, but the guard held her still, lecherously gawking at the girl’s breasts as he held her hands above her head, pinning her face between her arms so that Shamisé could roughly wipe the ruined makeup off her face.

“Oh honestly, you’re going to give poor Anemro the impression you don’t like him.” Shamisé scolded. Clean of the cosmetics, Natrini’s red face and glassy eyes made her look like a child, but there was no help for that. Moving so that their captive could see her, Shamisé stroked her sister’s belly and cupped one of the teenager’s pert breasts, rolling the nipple between her finger and thumb. Natrini groaned, pushing back against the guard hard to get away from the touch.

Anemro grew suddenly still and took in the magnificent sight of this fresh, young girl, whose betrothal to his brother he had indeed coveted. For an instant, the lust with which he had looked at her in the past, the single stolen kiss they had shared, the sight of her naked perfection now, drowned him in a flood of carnal need. He wanted it to be his hands on her flat, taut belly and perky, pink nipples rather than the bitch Shamisé’s.

The wave of Shamisé’s name though his head broke the spell and his cock collapsed from the deep shudder he had felt into dead flaccidity again. They both were his foes! He thrashed anew and hurled another barrage of inarticulate choking curses at them both. They could try to tease him all they liked. His shrill screams declared unbending resistance. He writhed and twisted in vain, his wrists and ankles abraded and rapidly bruising to purple from the chafing.

“Oh please, Anemro… stop, you are going to hurt yourself!” Natrini implored. “Please…”

“Now,” Shamisé instructed, batting the guard’s hands away and banishing him to the corner with a look. “We are going to do this together.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as a thought occurred to her. “You aren’t still a virgin, are you?”

“No! Of course not!” Natrini cried angrily, taking the question as an insult to her dead husband’s masculinity. But they had been married less than two weeks and Natrini’s monthly had just ended when she had invited her husband to bathe with her yesterday morning. He had tickled her mercilessly, trying to restrain her writhing, giggling body against him as he kissed her neck and ears. Boisterously, Natrini had managed to squirm away, wanting to be chased and captured again. Had she had her choice she would have married his more handsome twin brother, but her husband had been kind, gentle, and generous to her, and she had found a joy in his bed that she had not known existed.

Now his body was barely cold and they wanted to her to rape his brother in the hopes of planting his seed and passing it off as her husband’s. They would keep his death quiet until then, having said only that he had taken a bad fall and was recuperating.

Shamisé wrapped her arm around her little sister and pulled her forward. “He’s resistant because you are. You need to show him that you want him.”

With a look that could melt glass, Natrini jerked herself away, squared her shoulders in anger, and demanded with flared nostrils, “Tell me what to do.” She knew how important this was: If she did not bear her husband an heir then all her father’s and uncle’s plotting would be for naught. And maybe, just maybe, they could get this business over with quickly and then Anemro would be free. She could not prevent this, but perhaps she could make it less horrid.

While it wasn’t enthusiasm, Shamisé decided Natrini’s anger and determination were better than her tears. “Make love to him,” she whispered, kissing her sister’s cheek near her ear. “Tease him, stroke him, tell him all the things you want to do to him and all the things you wish he would do to you. When he’s good and hard, straddle him and fuck him senseless.” How could anything be simpler? “I’ll help you.”

Anemro heard Shamisé’s conspiratorial coaching quite clearly and went totally insane with conflicting reactions. The image of the lithe young beauty astride him with his manhood gobbled into her wanting womb brought his manly blood to a boil. The diabolic plot that it really was, and the untimely death of his twin that had fueled their vile sperm-sucking campaign, incited the warrior in him to slash all of them to pieces. His muffled scream came this time from the gut as well as the throat, and his reddened, sweaty, anguish-contorted face bore witness to his rage, frustration, confusion, and sudden fear. Was Natrini to be the Black Widow? Would she fuck him, steal his precious germ, and then kill him as she had his brother?

“No!” Natrini exclaimed, taking command of the situation at last. “I want you all out.” She waved her hand – which had been crossed over her breasts and shielding her pubis – toward the door. When neither moved quickly enough she hissed, “If you want me to do this, it has to be alone!”

Shamisé sighed, nodded, and led the guards out. Their father and uncle both peeked in when the door opened, demanding to know if it was done. Natrini couldn’t hear Shamisé’s low reply, but it didn’t matter. Heavily, she sat beside Anemro on the cot, covering herself and trying to look like that wasn’t her intention. “I’m sorry, Anemro,” she whispered. “If I release your gag will you promise to be very quiet? If they hear you they will only come back.”

Her question, her manner, confused and stunned him. She had shouted them out in an aggressive display not in her nature, at least until now. Why did she want him alone? What would she do to him?

‘Sorry’ she had said. She was sorry? She offered to remove the gag? Her manner now was soft, accommodating. She wrapped herself in modesty. He needed his voice. It was a valuable weapon. He needed to ask questions. He might be able to talk himself free. And then kill them! Would he kill her?

He looked up at her, his eyes still seething, but also imploring. It was a weakness – his only possible refuge at the moment. He blinked his eyes and nodded to her.

It took her well over a minute to get the knot loose, her breasts swaying before him with her efforts. Gently, she pulled the strip of cloth away and then pulled the packing from his mouth. “I am sorry,” she repeated as he flexed his jaw. “I don’t have the key to the restraints.” By all rights they should be taking comfort in each other right now – or, she thought, he should hate her for causing the accident.

Pain pierced through is jaw as he tried to loosen the stiffness with tentative movement. The aftertaste of the leather gag hung heavily in his mouth. It felt as if it was still there, his mouth still swollen with the ghost of the stifling wad. The roof of his mouth, tongue, gullet, and throat were parched raw as if besieged by the blasting sands of a Saharan storm. It hurt to speak, and his voice croaked hoarsely, a mere whisper when he tried.

“What … Sinuhé … my brother, your husband,” he stammered dryly, “you … did … you … kill … him? Tell me, he hissed thickly.” He glowered at her, panting, his tongue making thick smacking sounds inside his ravaged mouth.

That was the question she had feared to answer. Her chin trembled and to buy time she stood and fetched him a cup of water. He would hate her no matter what, she realized. “He slipped and hit his head,” he had been told his brother had had an accident in the baths in the note that had summoned him here, to Natrini’s father’s house, where the newlyweds had been visiting. “There was,” she was going to say that there was so much blood, but swallowed that back and bit her lip hard as she settled back down beside him, holding the cup in her hands. “There was nothing anyone could do. I pulled him out of the water, screaming for the servants, but there was nothing anyone could do…” She was repeating herself. “I am so sorry…” she had to stop, having gotten all choked up again. Natrini had not known her husband well enough to love him – and in truth she had already given her heart to the man stretched beside her – but she could never have hurt Sinuhé.

His eyes widened. “No, I do not believe you,” he rasped. “She … the bitch said you killed him. Why am I like this … what are you doing to me … why if … it was only … an accident?

The distress of his statement of disbelief turned to a scowl when he called Shamisé a bitch. That it was true held her tongue. The gag and restraints had been Shamisé’s idea. His later questions though… She sighed, gave him a pained look, and slumped. “You know my father and uncle fairly paid your brother to marry me, wanting to cement their trade deal and guarantee their good standing in the Council. Of course, their position and mine would not be secure until I had given your brother an heir.” Her lower lip quivered as if she was cold and she drew it between her teeth for a moment before seeking his gaze and leaning into him t o earnestly whisper. “Shamisé is right in that I loved you – and wanted you and not your brother. But he was good and kind and generous, and Anemro, I would never have hurt him.” Her eyes were all glassed up again. “He just… slipped and went feet first into the pool, striking the back of his head on the stones. Fffff…” Her voice broke and she swallowed hard, working to regain control as she hugged herself tightly.

After her chin topped trembling like a child’s, she continued, “I thought he must be hurt – the sound of his head hitting was very loud – but I still thought he’d stand and maybe curse at the pain. But then the water began to pinken and he did not move, so I jumped in, screaming for help, and pulled his head and shoulders up onto the steps, but he wasn’t breathing…” The glassy-eyed teenage girl had begun to rock in her distress, as if the movement could take away the pain. “He had ordered the servants away so that we would not be disturbed, so it took forever before someone heard me.” As if just realizing her audience, her eyes snapped back to him. “Anemro, I would never have hurt him, not even in jest. He was a good man…”

She had done well to hold the tears in that long and now they rolled down her face almost silently as her frail frame shook from her grief. It was the first time she had ever seen a dead body and she had never even killed an animal, never mind a man. “He would hate me for hurting you,” she added softly, sniffing. “But they are determined that I must have a child that they can pass off as your brother’s legitimate heir.”

It was painful, and it sliced shreds from inside his chest, to look at the grief-shaken teenager, and to hear all her words echoing like screams in his head. He sighed deeply and turned his head from her, looking straight up to the ceiling. There was no benefit to her in lying. They had him helpless. Deception would serve no purpose. It had really been an accident. He moaned softly through his cracked voice and smacked his arid lips. The moan became a quiet, desperate wail, heard more in his head than in his or her ears.

The corners of Anemro’s eyes welled with his own tears of grief for his late brother, and hatred for those who now sought to capitalize on it. He turned to her. His tears now sweetened to those of commiseration with her in mourning for Sinuhé. There was no doubt in his mind now that she had loved and honored and respected Sinuhé, just as he had, while secreting within her breast an unattainable love instead for him. Just as he had for her. He could no sooner damn her than he could himself. He owed her the same honesty, now, in this instant.

“I loved him, and I loved, and still love, you, Natrini,” he said with a strained, husky whisper. “I feel how you suffer. You have spoken truth. It was an accident. That you endured it alone pains me. But, I cannot let them do this now, on his dead head. I cannot help you to do their evil deed. And I won’t.”

He looked at her, his eyes clouded by a weepy veil. “Oh, Natrini.” He said it with hopelessly lost passion, and passionately lost hope. “They will make you do this. I will fight you. I have to, for Sinuhé. Oh, oh Natrini. But, I do love you,” he whispered, so softly, almost to the spirits. He again looked away, straight upward, and swallowed with a loud, parched, choking gurgle deep in his throat.

Her gaze moved down his body – so darkly tanned from the waist up from practicing with his short sword in the brutal sun. The dark hair of his chest looked soft compared to the thicker hair at the apex of his legs. So many of her maiden’s fantasies had involved trying to imagine him naked, but never could she have imagined that she would see him like this. Sighing, she offered, “You must be thirsty. Here, let me help you drink.”

He turned his head and looked at her. He believed her now, but did not trust her. His thirst was almost unbearable. He needed water. She had offered it. His desiccated mouth and lips and scream-blistered throat compelled a truce. And, she was so beautiful. The contours of her naked body were a landscape he had only imagined, and in his mind, traveled and tarried over with his hands, mouth, and body after their one stolen kiss. He would feel her touch if he drank. His gaze softened as he whispered, “Please.”

It took her a few tries before she figured out that she should slip her arm beneath his shoulder and cradle his heavy head in her hand, adding her strength to his efforts to pull himself into a position in which he could drink. Quite a bit of the water escaped his lips and ran down his cheeks, which she rubbed away with a scrap of his finery, which had been left on the floor. Her own robe was gone and the straw pallet was covered only in rough burlap. After retrieving him a second cup, she wet the scrap of his tunic and wiped his face and shoulders and arms, petting him as if to sooth away the anguish she had unintentionally caused him.

His eyes blinked at her, filled with gratitude. Her touch was so tender, and filled him with warmth and comfort. His brain signaled his arms to move so he could caress with his fingers her soothing hand and stroke her cheeks, her lips, brush her hair from her troubled brow …. ghost limbs stirred and moved and he was happy he was going to touch her … and then the straps and restraints reined him in cruelly. He would not be touching her.

He licked his lips wetly with his hydrated tongue. As quickly as softness had filled his face, a dark shadow filled it. “Are you really going to do this?” he asked.

Panting lightly, Natrini looked him over again like a monumental task she had to perform. She and her husband had only made love four times, and each time he had initiated it: kissing her and touching her as he pulled her against him. She had seen him flaccid in his sleep and while he was bathing, but he had sprung to life as if on command whenever he had noticed her regard; so she had no idea how to make Anemro hard, for her role had always merely been to relax and to welcome him into herself.

“I have to do this.” She told them both quietly as her trembling fingers reached for him, stroking the muscles of his belly. A defeated sob escaped her throat and she rolled her eyes to the heavens as she admitted, “I’ve dreamed of you so many times. I’ve wanted you since the first day we met.” She sought his gaze pleadingly, “I know you don’t want this – and if there was any other option I would not be here either – but please, Anemro… couldn’t we… could you…?” but she did not know how to word what she needed. She wanted him to make love to her, but that was so ludicrous.

Her soft touch on his solar plexus coaxed a heated flush from within his groin, and an agonizing desire. Her words, her pleading face … she had wanted him, too. She wanted him now? “Aaaghhhhhhh!” he suddenly growled. The spell had failed. His rage returned. He was a fool to have been led in! He could not trust her. It was her scheme, too, to fuck him against his will, to use him all tied down, like a wild untamed stud, to sap his vigor and come of child by him – to force her fetching womb onto his siring cock.

“Noooooooooooo!” he shouted. “I won’t! You keep away from me! No no no!”

His refusal cut to her core; and yet, how could she blame him? Accident or not, she had killed his brother. “So be it,” she whispered with more determination than she felt. “Shamisé says that a woman can take a man’s seed. I had hoped it would not come to that, but you give me no choice but to suck it from your body.” They would have him lashed if she did not or pull out his toe nails… but she could not tell him for she would never go through with this if she knew he would rather be tortured than assist her in bearing his child.

He screamed from the top of his voice and thrashed anew upon the burning pallet. “I will get out of these,” he shouted, yanking on the arm and leg restraints furiously, “and then I am going to ……” He finished his sentence with a groan of anger and frustration. “Stay away from me – I warn you Natrini! This is wrong! Stay away!”

For all her brave words, she was clueless and literally shaking with fear and pain. Yet she HAD to do this. Maybe later she would be able to find a way to release him – maybe her womb would quicken today and there would be no need to do this again. She bit her lower lip and looked him over with slow appraisal, trying to remember Shamisé’s words. She was to sit on top of him and push his penis into her body. Summoning up all her courage, she crawled upon the pallet and swung one leg over him somewhat awkwardly as he writhed beneath her angrily so that the chains jangled violently against the wall.

“Please, Anemro…” she begged in a whisper. “This can be over in a few minutes and they will release you…” The strap over his hips made getting into any sort of position impossibly complicated as her calf needed to be beneath it, and having never sat on a man’s like this, she had no way to judge how to line up the necessary body parts, though her inquisitive hand found him still limp as she gingerly settled on his thighs.

Hot shivers ran through Anemro as this girl to whom he had just confessed love crawled onto him awkwardly and slowly, like a victor mounting the defeated for a humiliating winner’s pose before cutting his throat. He was trapped! On top of him for carnal pleasure – thrilling! On top of him to defeat and deprive him – emasculating. He wanted to touch her but could not. He wanted to throw her off, but he could not. His mind imploded.

He bucked in blind rage as much as he could against the straps. He tossed his head from side to side to avoid seeing her face hovering above his. “Get off of me,” he screamed, as much a plea for mercy and release as it was a fuming, hostile command. “No no no!” he cried out in total panic and dread. She was really going to do this, and he had no chance of getting away! Humiliation collided with outrage as he fought her, and his restraints.

“Shhh,” she warned him, trying to cover his lips with her fingers. “Anemro, if you do not hush the guard will return and will gag you again. This can gain you nothing but an audience.” When he seemed to ignore her, she pleaded, “Please, do not make this harder than it already is!”

“Youuuuu….” he yelled at her. Her fingers on his lips and the weight of her body atop his seemed to break him in that instant. Her domination was total. Yet, his cock was no good to her. His rage had thus far poured all of his manly energy into bile against them. His testes drowsed and his cock lay limp. She had not aroused him. But, to look at her was a danger. He closed his eyes and shrieked, now pleading in a wild swing of emotion, “Leave me alone! Don’t! Don’t!”

Moving upwards, she tried to hush him with her lips, kissing him as she had in the garden nearly two months ago by capturing his lips between hers and drawing on them in quick, noisy succession.

He gasped between his clenched teeth when he felt her lips clutching gently at his. It was that kiss from before. It cut to his core. He wanted her to stop! God! He didn’t want her to stop. He opened his eyes to see her mouth just withdrawing from him. The scream welling up in his throat choked off when the door crashed open and her family came back in.

At the noise Natrini let out a sob and cried over her shoulder, “Let him yell if he wants! He has lost his brother and is being held captive by the very people who should be giving him comfort…”

But Shamisé cut her off with a hiss, “Idiot, what did you un-gag him for?” As the guard shoved the rag back in his mouth, Natrini visibly shrank against Anemro, whimpering when her father’s voice boomed from the doorway wanting to know if the deed was done yet.

Anemro tried to toss his head away from the gag to thwart the guard, but there was no chance. The burlap strip locked him again to silence before he knew it. He shuddered and tensed as Natrini hunkered down onto him.

“No, the twit untied the gag,” Shamisé hissed in response, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and shaking the smaller girl hard. “Now focus on the goal. You need a son, Natrini. HIS son. And the only way you are going to get it is to ride his pole.” She reached down behind Natrini to molest Anemro, then rolling her eyes to find him just as flaccid as she had left him. Hard green eyes snapped to icy blue as she spat, “Are you impotent, sir? You have a beautiful, naked woman sitting astride you, ready to fuck you, and you lay here as limp as an old man.” Her fingers stroked lower until she was teasing his anus with one finger, her other hand on her sister’s back, crushing Natrini against his chest. “Kiss him, Natrini, rub him,” Shamisé ordered, “Writhe against him, talk sweetly to him.”

“Mmmnnnnnn!” Anemro cried out in abject terror! Shamisé understood the game, he knew. He was done now. She would force his arousal, and Natrini would rape him for his seed. His eyes rolled back in his head as she told him the obvious that his eyes could see. He was trapped beneath Natrini’s heaving bosom now. Her flesh was hot. She would scorch him, and he would be powerless to prevent it. The bitch Shamisé had struck low now, honing right in on his sensitive pucker hole.

Natrini wanted them to leave but also wanted this to be over, and was afraid that she would never be able to do it alone. To her relief she heard the door close, but didn’t know that her father and uncle had come inside and were standing against the wall at the foot of the bed with inscrutable expressions on their faces as they watched Shamisé’s hand fondling Anemro just below Natrini’s exposed pink slit. Both men shifted uncomfortably as their bodies responded to the sight, having decided that they would see the business done. With her legs pulled apart it was evident that Natrini was still dry, and both men considered offering a helpful hand to the girl, just as Shamisé was helping Anemro. The guard – a trusted cousin – stood near Anemro’s head, his erection painfully obvious as he watched the naked teenager’s body, imagining that her blond sister was fingering her, and wishing he had a better view.

Natrini tried to block them all out. She could think of nothing to say that he would believe, so she kissed him instead – his lips and face and eyelids, having to hold his head still to do it, then squealed when Shamisé slapped her on the ass and told her to, “Move up so I can get in here, rub your nipples against his face or something.”

Anemro’s muffled cries were now whimpers. Natrini’s kisses were sweet and soft. They were unwanted, but they tingled his flesh wherever they fell and enflamed him in all the wrong places. His head was paralyzed in her surprisingly powerful grip. She was raping him with her mouth as much as it seemed she would soon be doing with her sheath. Her scent was strong, growing more pungently humid. Her arousal would drive her to irrepressible lechery upon his body. They would have their way. Could he stave her off?

Coming up on all fours, Natrini did as she was told, trying not to put so much weight on his ribs that he couldn’t breath, and yet needing to lean over him to get her breasts to his mouth. With her weight on one elbow above his head, she just dangled them before him for a moment, and then cupped one, guiding the hard, pink bud along the stubbly cleft in his chin, wishing he could take it in his mouth – and afraid of what he would do if he were given the opportunity.

Anemro groaned through shallow, jarring snorts expelled from his nostrils that would have been pants and gasps had his mouth been free. Her erect tit violated his chin and face, and he felt himself slipping, succumbing to her powerful feminine prowess. He wanted to kick himself, to flagellate himself …. because he wanted to have her breast in his mouth to suckle and lick and choke on, as long as it was stuffed into his mouth. A gag of an entirely different sort. No! He had to resist! He tried to wriggle free from her breast in his face and her body astride his. He couldn’t.

The girls’ uncle had to stifle a groan as Shamisé began nipping and sucking and licking her way up the inside of Anemro’s left thigh until she could take his left testicle into her mouth, massaging it in her hot, wet mouth before nipping her way over his sensitive flesh to tease his anus with her tongue. She licked him lightly at first, just getting him wet, then probed the tense little hole with the tip of her tongue as the hand that had been pushing on Natrini’s back moved to stroke the base of his cock. He wasn’t stiff yet, but he was clearly losing the battle.

Anemro’s groan was not even human. It was animal, primitive, masculine in a universal sense! ‘The fucking bitch,’ he thought to himself, and then inhaled sharply until she played his heavy, hot ball deep inside her mouth like fingers rolling marbles about the palm of a hand. Ohhhh god! Her tongue was just light enough on his testicle to curtail the bruising ache that an inexperienced mouth or tongue might suffer a man’s balls. It tickled his sac flesh, and stirred the pooling semen deep inside it.

“Hhmmggg!” his groan sank into a deep throaty gurgle as she grazed her teeth back across the floor of his groin, attacking his flesh with playful nibbles until her tongue slithered into his ass fissure, and down to his pouty little hole. Her hot saliva slathered onto it and oozed downward toward the tailbone end of his ass slit. He felt her strong tongue invade his stubborn sphincter and rummage boldly just within his rectum. “Hhhhheeee!” he hissed through the gag as his cock next fell prey to her. It jerked involuntarily as she wrapped her strong hand around the thick, veiny base of his manhood to exhort its reaction as she stroked it.

Natrini made an incomprehensible noise of frustration, feeling so exposed and stupid, and having no idea what her sister was up to other than that she could sometimes feel Shamisé’s hair against her ass and legs and feet – and that it sounded enticingly wet, so that it was that noise, combined with the feel of his rough face against her breasts that had begun to make her slit glisten in the torch light. The guard licked his lips and adjusted himself, and the girls’ uncle began inching over to get a better view of Shamisé’s tongue.

Anemro flexed his arm and leg muscles and yanked against his restraints one final time as Shamisé’s tongue and hand coerced him to give it up. The fight was sapped out of him. Resistance in battle was always a strategy and a tactic; but, trapped in their clutches, Anemro had no strategy, no tactics. The phrase “resistance is futile” was tailored to their foreplay. Foreplay? It was seduction and rape at the same time. His struggles floundered. His body crumbled into the pallet, and the tension in his muscles liquefied in resignation.

When he had relaxed beneath her ministrations, Shamisé began nuzzling his balls with her face as her long, thin finger circled his slick asshole. Noisily, she drew on his right testicle, then the base of his proud, pulsing manhood, licking and blowing on the wet velvety skin. He still was not really hard, but he would be once her finger found that magical spot just inside. She could force his seed out of him if she wished by massaging him there – if her sister’s inept humping could not compel him to surrender.

Anemro’s moans were now constant, rhythmic, devoid of any harshness, automatic expressions of inadvertent pleasure. Every time his rage began to bubble up again, it was burst by the sensations assailing his sex and ass.

Her father groaned aloud as Shamisé’s mouth closed over the tip of Anemro’s cock, drawing on him as her tongue swirled around the head and her index finger just barely penetrated his ass, stroking to the first knuckle, in and out in time with the movements of her tongue. Just behind her head Natrini’s slit had just begun to glimmer in the light and Senmi longed to spread those small inner lips and spread her fragrant fluid about. The sight of his two daughters raping this man was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. His erection brought him an arousing amount of shame and had his brother not been standing beside him, Senmi knew he would have crossed the few feet to the pallet and began finger-fucking his baby girl.

Anemro was fast approaching mindlessness. Natrini bathed his face in the wash of her tits, bouncing and rubbing across his face and nose and head and neck and chest. Her knees and thighs imprisoned his body under her sex, and as her pussy lips occasionally brushed against him, the suggestion of moisture in her slit dampened his flesh lightly.

Shamisé led the charge and stormed all the barriers now as her mouth took his flaring cock head captive. He shivered the full length of his long, trembling body as her lips tightened around it and her tongue tortured the sensitive glans. It tickled unbearably, and when she suckled on him and licked around the groove between head and shaft, he convulsed and arched his back, straining up against the straps not in rage, but in sensory need..

“Mmaaghh!” his moan now rose loud, crazily. Shamisé drove the final stake of defeat into his body and mind as she began to finger fuck his ass in earnest. Oh fucking god! The invader slackened his rectum and then imparted the tight creamy channel with a fullness that both burned and tingled inside. His ass cheeks tightened uncontrollably around her finger as she thrust in and out. His cock was lost to her mouth. He could feel it stiffening toward that full, needy feeling of a complete erection quivering toward release. Oh, they had him now.

Natrini wished she could see what her sister was doing to incite him so, and was even convinced at one point that he was near to releasing his seed because of the intensity of his moans. She wanted Shamisé to stop, to go away and leave them be, hating having to share him almost as much as she hated having to take him against his will. Blended with her reluctant sexual excitement from the stimulation of rubbing her body against him and her sister’s occasional inadvertent caress, her mortification of having an audience, and the warmth Anemro’s passionate moans induced, Natrini was as ready as she would likely ever become without direct stimulation.

And, then, Shamisé stopped coaxing him, and compelled him. She was finished toying with his rectum, finished with merely finger fucking it, satisfied that she had made him her bitch. It was time for the kill.

Her fingers were talented, and blatantly unprincipled. She pressed up the full length of his trembling ass, laughing as he tried to squirm away from them, until she had reached the end and the tight, thin wall there. She found the sensitive, walnut-like gland that lay on the other side, the magical spot that she could milk until he gushed if she chose to. She gently fondled its spongy lobes through the delicate membrane. Her wicked fingers encircled it through the wall like spiders’ legs, squeezing gently, rubbing with the finger pads.

Anemro screamed and thrashed his head back and forth as the walnut shuddered with tingling electric jabs that pierced into the deepest corners of his loins. The tingles reached the core of his cock, readying it for the infusion of semen if she continued much longer…

The corners of Shamisé’s mouth turned upward around his cock as Anemro’s moans and struggles became not of resistance but of need – his pelvis straining against the strap to give her better access as her fingers pressed into that magical spot, rubbing small circles that would also stimulate the delicate muscles of his virgin sphincter. Her fingers and mouth now brought his cock to sprout full length, springing to a thick, pulsating erection – Natrini’s tool to motherhood!

Like a large snake, Shamisé opened her mouth wide, letting her jaw drop until she could align the narrow opening of her throat with the thick, pulsing head of his cock, ignoring the urge to gag simply because she wanted him to always remember that it was she, and not Natrini, who had given him so much pleasure that he had forgotten even his rage.

“Mmggghhh!” he moaned from deep in his gullet.

She hummed around him, throat vibrating as she swallowed him in short, slow, measured strokes, the heel of her hand stroking the underside of his balls as she violated him, compelling him toward the moment when even his wish to escape was dim in comparison to his need to spill his seed.

She had broken him, and readied him for Natrini’s womb. Freed from her mouth, his cock soared upward, a thick, bulging slab primed for encasement within Natrini’s saucy depths. It twitched and bobbed with a smacking sound against Natrini’s butt as she shifted on top of him. His only hope now was to deny her his ejaculate, and that was purely wishful thinking …..

Mmnooo, nnm!” he cried his muffled protests as Shamisé grasped the base of his erection with one hand and guided her sister onto it, past her tight, pouty entrance, past her timidity, past her discomfort, forcing her with her other hand grasping her buttocks slowly, but with certainty, down the hard stalk that she had cultivated. By the time Natrini had adjusted to the twitching breadth of his intruder inside her, he had no resistance left in him. He was already defeated.

*****

Two weeks later, Natrini balanced herself over him with one hand, expression soft and lazy as she stroked the head of his cock back and forth between her legs, eyes half closed in pleasure. He was no longer gagged, but was still bound by the worn leather straps and crude metal shackles. He was so large that she had to be considerably wet to mount him or risk tearing herself. Even so it was uncomfortable until she had him in her depths – but then, oh, such joy at being so full. The sensation was so wonderful that she rarely bobbed on him anymore, as Shamisé had instructed her, but rather ground herself against him, reveling in the friction against her clit and pressure of his cock boring into her insides.

“Oh…” she sighed, tensing her muscles around him once they had recovered from the shock of his presence. Her body seemed to be molding him to fit, but she knew it was the other way around. Though he was helpless beneath her, her body was by nature the accommodating one, shifting to bring him deeper and swelling inside to enclose him until every small movement brushed him against the exquisitely tender mouth of her womb. “I could do this all day,” she confessed languidly. “I wish it never had to end…” and yet they both knew that in a few minutes she would be singing an entirely different tune as she drove them both over the edge in a desperate frenzy of rocking thrusts.

“Oh, Natrini,” he whispered. “Ohhh. I wish it could end for a different purpose. Then, then, it truly would never end.” The poignancy of his words hung over them, reflecting the ironic reality that brought them to union every day. Over the past fourteen days, they both had come to find solace in each other, as Natrini had implored on that first day. It was all that kept them sane in the insane plot her power hungry family had forced on them.

He no longer required encouragement to stiffen for her. If she was raping him, he was in collusion with her now. Staked out, spread-eagled, strapped tightly down, on the pallet, he no longer was aware of how rough and chafing the mattress was. He lay there, sublime, aroused just by the sight of her. His pulsating erection bristled with swollen veins as he lay in wait until she mounted him with confident, smooth, fluid motions, planting her soft, warm hands flat on his chest. It pounded beneath her palms with frenzied excitement as she lifted herself up above his length in order to descend onto him.

Each time, he had lain beneath her, restrained in body only, and watched wide-eyed as she lowered her magnificent, petite body onto him. His rapt cries of pleasure greeted her hotly as she yielded and stretched her tightness over the flaring crown of his cock. Well lubricated inside with the flood of her own excitement, she slowly took him in and drove him to even greater size as she eased her delicate depths around his thick power. It felt so good to him. She went slowly, only where her comfort allowed at first, but he could feel her comfort yielding to the wanton desire of her quivering, gripping walls around his throbbing shaft. As if in parody, her strong, lithe thighs gripped his hips, completely captive between them, secured for maddening grindings of her sex to push and pull his cock forward and back inside her.

Back arched to maintain the angle of their pelvises, she laid down upon him, moaning with the friction of his coarse hair against her nipples, her arms beneath the strap over his chest and her hands tucked beneath his shoulders so that she could use him as leverage later. Her forehead lolled on his collarbone and she tensed when some angle of her movements brought him in contact with that place deep inside that seemed to need his touch so very desperately, so that each movement seemed to bring her closer to the ultimate pleasure, but at an agonizingly slow pace. How she longed for him to be free now – to feel his weight and heat bearing into her, driving her to release. But it simply could not be. Just getting her father’s consent to remove the gag had taken an embarrassingly childish temper tantrum.

“Oh gods, Natrini! Oh! Ooohhhh!” he gushed as she covered his chest with her hot smooth flesh. It heightened all the sensations in his loins to be fused this way with her, the pert nipples kissing his hard chest with shameless hunger, her hands now joining her thighs in securing him helpless to her.

His thick beard made him look older, but they did not trust him enough to let him shave and Natrini did not wish to put him through the trauma of having one of his captors scrape him clean with a knife. She had never shaved a man herself, though thought she might offer, just in case he wished it, though in truth she reveled in the feel of his coarse whiskers against her face, though she wished she had the bravery to rub her breasts against him again. But it seemed cruel to ask him to pleasure her on top of everything else.

She rocked against him for a long time, trapped in that difficult place between reality and surrender where she was too stimulated to stop, but too distracted to really enjoy it. It was not until he shifted slightly beneath her, rattling his chains that she looked up, seeking his gaze, and was lost.

His eyes were smoldering azure embers that bored into her as lustily as his cock. Natriniii,” he nearly wailed. “I want release from these.” He pulled at his arm and leg chains and writhed under her, jostling her pelvis and hastening her thrusting up and down his swollen length. “Take me hard! No, no, I want to taste you! Ooooooo …. kiss me …. oh, Natrini.”

She struggled to get close enough that they could kiss, the movement of her hips slowing to match the dance of their tongues. He wanted to tear at his bonds and shatter the chains to give his free ranging body the chance to let hers laze and lust beneath his this time. He wanted to blanket her tightly with his body, and plunder her long and hard, fulfilling her desire for him to ravage her depths with his cock and her mouth with his tongue.

“I wish you were free…” She whispered plaintively, panting from exertion and desire, her little feet tucked along the underside of his buttocks, digging into him for leverage. Taking shallower thrusts, she strained to kiss his neck and jaw, almost coming off of him, but stopping when the swollen head pulled at her tight opening. He was so tall and she was so petite, that with him stretched out beneath her and strapped down unable to curl into her at all, he was almost impossible to kiss. And yet she needed to taste him…

“Natrini,” he whispered breathily, almost as a wicked hiss. Her soft kisses on his neck and jaw inflamed him. He was so hungry for her … he tensed all his muscles and, as she was completing an upward stroke toward his cock head, he pressed his bum and hips as hard as he could into the mattress, yanked on all four restraints, and thrust his torso hard against the cruel straps. It was enough! Her walls lost their grip on him, her folds popped off and away from his head, and she skidded forward on his torso until her face hovered just above his.

He gave the startled Natrini no chance to protest or speak, “Don’t fret now,” he told her soothingly, “I’m not going anywhere, and you’ll have me back inside you again. Just, for now, kiss me. Kiss me Natrini!” He thrust his jaw toward her, parted his lips, and shuddered all over as her lips caressed, then devoured his in an endless, bone melting kiss.…..

*******

Pushing herself upright, so that she was sitting on him fully impaled, Natrini’s head rolled back, her long, dark brown hair brushing over his legs and her buttocks. Her legs had become used to this work, and she had gained an agility that she would not have believed possible two months ago when Shamisé had forced her down on his body that first time. Now, this time with him was all she looked forward to each day – her existence between their hour or so together stretching interminably when all she could think of was Anemro.

Anemro’s mind raced in a split second with all that had happened over the two months of his shackled passion, raced in tandem with the prolonged rush in his body as she rode him.

Change, sweet change. Through the many, many weeks, they both had changed. Their desires had outdistanced the plot, and nurtured between them a fractious alliance of lust, pleasure, affection. The ultimate tragedy thus lain.

Amenro’s every day in the bare cell, chained to the Spartan pallet, was a mindless, senseless, unfeeling dark void until they came and took him to her. It was that daily hour now that kept him alive rather than drove him to any need to flee hellish abuse. It was the same each time, and better each time. The raping pallet became their vessel of rapture. Alone with her, he was her willing mount, all rage against the plunder of his germ lost, past memory. It was all different now.

How he relished each beginning – her trembling liquid warmth seeping tightly over his flaring point and slowly down his throbbing heat. She now enveloped him deeply inside her walls with the confidence of passionate familiarity rather than with greedy intent to plunder his seed. It showed in her eyes, her shimmering pale blue eyes. Her eyes were the vast sea into whose streams he was swept, lapped at first by gentle currents, then tossed by the swells of mounting fury, and finally swirled in the storming spout, over the edge of all endurance.

By the time she had finished him each time, he was incapable of leaving the room without the support of two guards. While the guards assumed he had been puttied by the brutality of her rape, Anemro and Natrini shared the laughing secret that it was instead their mutual wanton passion that had left him soggy-boned and spent to his core.

His reverie dissolved and his eyes fell forward, upward, on her proud flushed body riding him with authority. Between the “v” of her straddling thighs and slamming pubis, the thick base of his cock glistened with her juices as she rose up its length, more of her viscous excitement slathering down the shaft as it emerged from her folds. “Uhh!” he gasped as he watched, and felt her slide quickly back down his slick length, grinding and gyrating on him when fully impaled to pleasure her greedy clitoris.

Her hands braced on his knees, feet curled around his buttocks as her hips rose in a slow, steady rhythm. She had caught him watching her – or rather watching the space where they were joined and his appraisal made her feel warm and wickedly wanton.

He had a great deal of freedom now – she had cut the leather straps from the pallet with the knife they had given her to shave him so that he could not be restrained that way again. It had not been necessary in any event. She had had the shackles loosened some too, so that he was not so tightly bound, could even touch his hands to his shoulders and raise his knees enough to dig his heels into the mattress so that he could buck his hips beneath her. They still did not trust him to be free around her – worried that he might kill their precious brood mare.

“Oh, right there,” she gasped, her back arching as she sank down on him again, then rolled her head around and shifted her weight so that she was leaning onto his chest, fingertips playing over his nipples as she intentionally did not settle all the way down on him, forcing him to curl his hips up into her.

His cock was a tingling slab of screaming nerves by now. She denied him a full downward thrust, and he flattened his feet onto the mattress, clenched the muscles in his ass cheeks, and shoved his hips upward to drive his full length into her tight, teasing pussy. He knew what she wanted, and now with the straps gone had enough free play to give it to her. Without letting her advantage herself on him just then, he let his legs drop, jerked his hips back into the mattress, and pulled his cock back from her depths until the head tugged downward on her folds from inside, only to then stroke slowly, slowly upward, angling his hips so that the point of his head was pressed hard onto the ceiling of her pussy, skimming slowly to her most sensitive spot just behind the prominent pubic bone. He held himself against it there, letting her rub her special spot on his point until she could no longer endure the sensation and resumed drubbing and threshing up and down his cock with increased savagery and abandon.

Needing the leverage to keep from being unseated, she braced the heels of her hands against the front of his underarms, pushing backwards to meet his thrusts and grunting softly with every strike. Even restrained he was intensely powerful and she knew he could throw her into the floor if he wished.

“Ohhhh gods yes, Natrini,” he cried. “Fuck me hard now! Show no mercy!” He rammed up into her from below, meeting her every thrust with his own slamming charge. “Harder, faster, Natrini. Fuck me. Fuck me! Aghhhh! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes! Umph! Is this what you want? I’ll fuck you right back! I’ll make you fuck me harder! Explode with me! Ohhhhh, do it! I ….uh….oh …. love … ahh….ohhh … you …”

His relentless words melted her bones, curling her down into him as she dragged her nails along his ribs as she became smaller and smaller around him and over him, as if she were being compressed until all of her nerve endings were tuned only to his pleasure. He always became so hot and so large when he was close that she was certain she could not have been pulled from him even if either of them wished it. In her mind she imagined the swollen, puckered lips of her womb closing over his smooth, bulging head with every short, hard, rapid thrust, sucking on him with wet relentlessness.

The point of no return had passed. Her insides had become a tight, storming vortex that snatched his cock beyond his command. The semen deep in his middle had boiled over and spilled into his cock as she rasped up and down his length and danced her grinding need upon him all this time. It felt like his cock would burst from the tingling pressure as it swelled and thickened even more. Her pounding walls throttled it mercilessly, and his head drowned in the liquid heat that pulsed in the deepest corner of her pussy. A delicious chill coursed from deep in his ass up his spine to his neck and into his temples as his orgasm welled up. It was the final instant when cock and balls and belly all hung still while an almost aching pressure built inside them, like a pending sneeze, and then discharged in an uncontrollable series of convulsive spurts from his cock, each one streaming the length of his cock with an indescribable prickling, tickling sensation and tantalizing heat in the small hole of his cock head. He held his breath as the intensity engulfed him, finally screaming out in ecstasy as the eruptions into her womb peaked. He wished it would never stop.

When he burst inside of her, she had to hang on to maintain her position – arms and legs and inner walls clutching on him as he raged like a storm beneath her. He seemed to double in size or maybe she shrank around him; filling her with the image of her needy womb lapping up his seed, she tumbled over the precipice, pushing herself down hard upon him as all the muscles of her body seized, then shuddered, and then became so weak that she collapsed upon his chest, spent.

For a long minute she just laid there, overused muscles begging to stretch but too suffused with the curious laziness that their lovemaking produced to move. How she wished he could roll them both over so that she could lay curled against his chest with his arms tight around her! She had begged and pleaded for them to undo his shackles, claiming that he wouldn’t hurt her, but Shamisé had scoffed and said that he was pliant now, but that freedom would reveal his true feelings.

The idea that Anemro was only playing her emotions to gain his freedom cut Natrini to her core, but she had to admit that it was possible, even logical. Shamisé ridiculed her for stupidly falling in love, but Natrini knew that she had loved Anemro even before her marriage to his brother. It had been a childish, naïve love, but love nonetheless.

She had secretly been working for weeks on a plan to get him away. It would be difficult – he was weak from confinement and they were both always watched – but it had to be soon. She would not be able to keep secret the fact that she was raping Anemro for pleasure much longer. She had stained her rags with chicken blood last month to get everyone off her back, hoping to buy time to get him away.

Slowly, she shifted until she was laying against his side, head on his arm, one leg over his. She couldn’t tell her family, but she owed it to tell this Anemro…. “I’m late…” she whispered without explanation, unable to meet his eyes. “I can hide it a bit longer, but…” she swallowed the rest of that thought, “We need to get you away soon.” She knew now that they meant to kill him.

Anemro had, as always for many weeks now, relished the all-too-brief after-moments that they had together after finishing. A few times, he had on purpose yanked on his restraints while she lay next to him, caressing his face, to deceive the guards into thinking she was still raping him savagely. A moan from him, a shout from her, all conspired to give them a few precious extra minutes.

Today, they lay still and quiet. Her soft silky hair splayed over his shoulder and neck felt so enveloping, like a blanket above her head on his arm. Her leg nestled on his grazed the seeping head of his cock, still throbbing and tingling deeply from his climax. The afterglow was in its own way as blissful as their thrusting union.

He tensed and jerked his legs …. she said she was late! “Oh! Natrini! Are you sure? Are you? It’s what they wanted! I hoped we could avoid it! What will happen now? Maybe you are only late and … and not pregnant?” The word – pregnant – it coated his lips thickly with the “p” and tickled his gullet with the “g.” The many different things that it would mean if his seed now grew in her began to sink in ….

Hiding her face by pressing the crown of her head into his armpit, she accepted this as her due, hearing horror in his voice. “My cycle was never very regular, and it has been such a stressful time, so it is possible…” she stopped there, sighing as she recognized that as bad as it was for her it was so much worse for him. She struggled to sit up, slouching and then straightening as she looked at her own chest. Shamisé says my breasts look swollen…” she shrugged, “She examines me everyday after we…” she blushed, “after I leave you.”

“Oh, Natrini. It must be so hard on you. She is a bitch. An evil woman! She must keep me tied up, locked up, for surely she knows I would kill her if I were free!” He moved his head, seeking her touch. “Natrini, oh, Natrini. Do you have … OUR… child?”

“I think so,” she replied; and while it was the truth – she was not absolutely certain, but it was her gut feeling that she was and that prompted her to make some very hard decisions. It was time to be brave, to face the specter of heartache and abandonment. “If I can get you free of the shackles, will you be able to walk?” She was half his size, standing barely to his shoulder and still possessing the fragile hollowness of youth. By contrast, Anemro was solidly built even after two months in captivity – though thinner, she thought, and certainly paler - so she would not be able to carry him.

“Haaa,” he laughed softly, breaking the tension. “Yes, I can walk well. It is only difficult after you … after you fuck me so hard in here, Natrini!” He laughed and slathered his tongue across his lips lewdly, prompting her to blush and look away in discomfort. She did not need the reminder of her own wantonness and the fact that she joy from his captivity.

“If I were free of these shackles,” he said, now serious, I would not walk. I would run, hide, plan my revenge on your evil family. I know they are your family. But they have destroyed mine – dragging me and my dead brother through their vile slimy greedy plot to enrich themselves at our expense. Oh, yes, I would have no problem walking!”

Natrini nodded, though was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of him taking revenge. Though she agreed that her uncle and father were evil and that Anemro had a right to avenge himself, they were the only family she had, she felt herself equally culpable, and she did not want him lingering about where he could be recaptured or killed. However, she chose not to confront him on the idea, recognizing that fantasies of revenge had been the only entertainment afforded to him during this confinement. Besides, she had a more difficult topic to bring up.

“Would you take me with you?” She could not tear her gaze from his face, and her lower lip trembled, so that she was compelled to trap it between her teeth. “If not for my sake,” she whispered tremulously, “then for our child.” Our child… how she had dreamed of nursing his babe when she had been but an innocent maiden!

His eyes suddenly clouded with stinging salty tears. His emotions raged between extremes as she asked him, so frightened, he could see, about what he might say. He needed no time to reply. His head, heart, and soul had known for quite some time before today. “Natrini,” he spoke in a hush, “for all our sakes, oh, yes. Yes I would take you with me! I can never be without you again, and I can never be with another again. I would take … the … three of us … to safety, and life! Natrini, my sweet …”

“Truly?” she whispered, eyes brightening in cautious hope. He had acquiesced so fast that there was no way for her to know if he meant what he said or was simply saying what he thought would gain him his freedom; but she wanted to believe…

“Of course truly! I just told you, Natrini! Yes. Yes! But, how can this be accomplished? How can I be freed?”

Snuggled against him so that she could whisper in his ear, her mouth shielded by his cheek, she told him everything she knew about the guards schedules and location, who had keys, and whom she could buy off. Some of the questions he asked she could not answer, but promised to try and find out before the next day. She would also have to steal or buy a key and make sure that there were mounts available for them, for Anemro was not strong enough to go far or fast on foot.

It was possible, she knew, that even if their plan worked and they were able to escape to Rome that he would abandon her there – or even that he would strangle her the instant he was free. To that end, once they had gone through the plan for as long as they dared, she sought his gaze and implored, “Promise me one thing.”

“What? What promise do you need from me?”

She took a fortifying breath, opened her mouth, closed it, and then inhaled again as she sat up, spine stiff. “I cannot blame you if you want nothing to do with me now,” as this was so different from their earlier discussion, she pressed a finger against his lips to silence him, “No, don’t, just listen.” She let out a noisy breath and swallowed, gathering courage again, “You owe me nothing. I hold myself as culpable for your captivity as my uncle. But still, I must ask you this; must make you swear to me that if you are thinking that you will abandon me, then I would ask that you kill me here instead of leaving me stranded and alone in a strange land.” Her eyes had misted up again. “I couldn’t bear it, and with a child too…” she had to swallow hard. “So just promise me that. Or let me know and I’ll do it myself. Better I die here than be abandoned…” Natrini did not want to lose him, though knew that keeping him hostage here was so very wrong and she had helped, if unwillingly. “My life here is not worth living, so if you will not have me, then the child and I are better off dead.”

She could never be happy here and would never be safe, for she knew her family would use her child as they had used her and Anemro… Better to be dead than held captive – maybe even in this room – while their child was twisted into her father’s creature.

Anemro looked at Natrini intently, seeking her eyes with his. She was so anguished. It was much his fault, as he had never fully told her that he held nothing against her, and that there even was nothing to forgive. She was duped by her vile family, and bound as surely as he was, but in a worse way – without straps or ropes, but with emotional and mental imprisonment. They both shared the same cell, to be sure, and they were prison mates to the depths of their souls. He loved her, and now his growing child. Her family had failed, truly., because they had found a freedom together that now was coming to greater fruition.

He spoke gently, his words catching on his throat often, filled with emotion, and hope. “Oh, oh, Natrini. How can you think any of this? Look at me. Look into my eyes, you ‘Bringer of Beauty.’ Did I not say ‘yes,’ that I would take you with me? How could I not? I love you so much. You carry OUR child. This is now my, our, family that we can build. I cannot be without you ever, ever again. I tear my heart out that my brother had to die for us to be together. But, he did, by accident. And, as terrible as that was, he gave us a precious gift in his death. He gave you leave to bring your beauty to me, which I know you would never have done, much as you may have given it thought, while he lived.

“It is I, Natrini, who would seek to die were I freed and deprived of you and the new soul that you bear in your womb. No. There will be no death for you. I will not leave you. I never can. I never will. Our lives are so worth living now, together. Let’s start at once!”

He wished he could hold her shaking frame tightly to him. But, he knew that she took solace in his just lying there with him.

Natrini was still sobbing childishly against his chest when the Shamisé and their cousin walked in, leering at the pair, though with considerably less interest than two months ago when they both had seemed to try to walk in before the deed was accomplished. Modestly, Natrini covered herself and pulled a blanket over Anemro before following her sister out, not daring to look back for fear that the look they would exchange would betray them to their handlers, focusing instead on all she had to do if she, Anemro, and their child were to have any kind of future.

…………………

Authors’ Note: We greatly appreciate you reading our outtake from our larger story, “Reprise: A Story of Reincarnated Love”, which follows modern day story of the same hero and heroine. It is available through my profile. :)

~ Sean and Dominique