Conquered: Spoils of War Ch. 03

Jolie moved gracefully between the long tables, her golden eyes averted and a blush staining her cheeks. The King's generals cavorted with naked love slaves on and beneath tables, on chairs, against the wall. She had never witnessed anything so...so uninhibited.

Leaning over slightly, she placed a heavy pitcher of honeyed mead on a table, conscious of her golden mesh skirt riding up over the curve of her bottom and exposing her intimate pink flesh as she did so.

She wore nothing but two tiny squares of loosely interwoven gold threads that barely covered her mound at front and her bottom, and was held together by thin chains that crisscrossed low over her hips, and a slim golden torque at her throat. Her long golden mane tumbled over her shoulders and breasts, and she was unaware of the tantalising glimpses it afforded of her rosy pink nipples peeking through the silky strands as she moved.

She placed her small feet carefully between sinuous, gyrating flesh as she moved further along the table to collect an empty pitcher, the erotic images burned into her memory. Moans, grunts and sighs filled her ears, aggravating the already throbbing ache between her thighs.

As she leaned over, a daring hand shot out from beneath the table and slid up her inner thigh. She gasped as rough fingers slid along the valley of pink flesh at their apex, shock holding her momentarily still as the blunt tips probed demandingly at her dewy gate. She hastily straightened and stepped back as she felt a finger begin to push up inside of her, the movement causing the exploring fingers to fall from her body. She moved swiftly along the table, yet her wide eyes were drawn back to the man where he lay entwined with another beneath the table, his knowing brown eyes direct and inviting as they clashed with hers.

Flustered, she turned away, her heart racing. Her body still burned with the memory of being impaled on the King's shaft, of feeling him work himself deep inside her as he breached her innocence before his generals. She had been helpless to resist, heady with mead, her body's inhibitions melted and her senses aroused to fever pitch. Even now her body still yearned for what he had shown her, done to her. But she only wanted him. Craved him.

He had taken her again the following night, but when she woke she had been alone, as she had every night in the three months since. It was only as she came to learn the harsh language of this world, so different from the musical one her own, that she finally understood that he had returned to her home world to continue the process of enforcing his domination over her conquered planet.

And as she mastered the alien tongue, she finally learnt the name of her body's master: King Arik Tuane del Sidhe.

The King and his generals had just returned the day previous, and upon learning the news her tangled emotions had warred with each other. He was responsible for the destruction of her world and everything she knew, yet he was also her lover, showing her the heights of pleasure her young body could give.

As she worked as the generals covorted with love slaves in a sensual feast of flesh, she had been careful to avoid the dais at the far end of the hall, or to look in that direction for fear that her turbulent feelings would get the better of her. She prayed she would not come face to face with the King before this large audience, because even now she did not know how she would react.

She had been deeply hurt to discover that the rest of the King's harem were free to wench along with the palace's pleasure slaves in celebration of the King's return. Obviously her inexperience had both bored and shamed him.

She had hidden her feelings as best she could as the King's harem had eagerly prepared themselves for the festivities for the night ahead, conscious of the spiteful and gloating glances cast in her direction. Liana, who she had now learnt held the position of favourite among the King's harem, was the worst, and the others simply followed her lead, forcing her to do menial duties and run pointless errands as the women beautified themselves.

What little status she may have had in the harem as newest love slave was further eroded when it was discovered that she was to serve food and mead. When Jolie questioned her attendant Kiara, Kiara would only say that it was the King's orders that her mound be cloaked, and that none were to pleasure themselves in her love channel.

Her life in the harem in the past three months had become increasingly lonely and isolated, and after that night's activities, she knew the other harem slaves would make her life a living hell.

As Jolie carried the empty pitchers back to the kitchens, the burly cook shoved a large platter of meats in her hands and barked "King". At Jolie's hesitation, he shook his fist at her belligerently. "Move, you lazy slut!"

Her heart began a rapid tattoo as she made her way back to the hall and weaved through the tables toward the dais. Her skin prickled with heat as she carefully made her way up the small, flat steps and onto the dais, lashes lowered. She crossed toward the dais's centre and knelt gracefully beside the large silver throne, assuming the position with her knees spread wide and her shoulders thrust back as she proffered the fine selection of meats above eye height.

She couldn't prevent the tears welling in her wide golden eyes as she kneeled there for what seemed an age, the tray trembling slightly in her hands as she waited, knowing it was expected that she feed the meat to him with her fingers as she had been trained, but unable to do so.

A tremour raced through her as a long finger slid beneath her chin and titled her face up. Dark green eyes clashed with hers, searching her face intently as they gazed down upon her. Fingers brushed back a stray tendril that fell across her eyes, smoothing the silky hair between his thumb and forefinger as he gazed upon her consideringly.

"You are well?" he murmured huskily, and she swallowed hard, blinking back tears at the small kindness. She nodded jerkily, praying Kiara had told no one of her sickness in the mornings.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied in his own language, and a thrill raced through her at the knowledge that she had pleased him as the corners of his sensual lips curled.

His eyes dropped to the creamy mounds of her breasts, and she squirmed slightly as her nipples hardened into pink buds beneath his heated gaze.

"So tiny and perfect, like all of you," he murmured, and she witnessed the flash of white teeth in the deeply tanned face as his gaze lifted to hers, and both of them knew she was helpless against the effect he had on her innocent body.

"Come," he murmured, patting his muscular thigh. She moistened her suddenly dry lips as she obeyed him with uncertain eyes, placing the platter on a low table before rising gracefully and moving between his spread thighs, conscious of the long, thick bulge between them straining against the loose ties of his leather breeches. He shook his head, a devilish smile curving his lips as he captured her fragile wrist in his large palm and guided her so that she straddled one large muscular thigh clad almost thicker than her waist.

She wiggled slightly at the strange sensation of his warm muscular thigh pressing against her intimately, conscious of his steady gaze. She gazed up at him with wide golden eyes as his large hands lifted, brushing back her long golden mane over her shoulders and baring the tiny thrust of her breasts fully to his warm gaze. Her breath caught as his palms smoothed the creamy skin of her shoulders and down over her collarbone to cup the twin tiny mounds in their firm grip.

The pulse fluttered at her throat as he gently molded her flesh to the shape of his palms, kneading her. His thumbs brushed the puckered tips teasingly, caressing them, and she moaned softly between slightly parted lips as sparks of heat shot down between her parted thighs.

She gasped as he pinched the hard tips, tugging on them, and her hips arched, the movement grinding her mound against his muscular thigh. She whimpered as his fingers plucked and rolled the tender tips as he gazed down into her golden eyes, making her belly shivery and trickles of moisture drench the smooth leather. She felt helplessly aroused as he toyed with her tender breasts almost casually, her neglected body coming alight with the briefest of touches.

Her breath caught in her throat as his head lowered, and his mouth closed over hers in a slow, searching kiss. His fingers slid up to tangle in the silky strands at her nape, holding her head captive as he deepened the kiss.

She whimpered against his mouth as his other hand slid down to grip her bottom, his fingers biting into her soft flesh. "Move on me," he commanded huskily against her mouth.

When she hesitated, unsure, his palm gripped her bottom and slid her along the now slick leather. The breath caught in her throat as the movement splayed her lush pink lips against his thigh, generating an exquisite friction against her pulsing nub.

Her lashes fluttered in surprise as his fingers splayed on her belly and guided her backwards. "Move," he murmured, watching her eyes darken with awareness before his mouth captured hers.

Breathlessly she obeyed him, her tiny hands gripping his forearms as she slowly began to work herself on him, feeling her thighs strain as she ground herself against him.

Shards of pleasure rippled through her as her nub rubbed against the soft leather slippery with her lust. She was uncaring of their audience as the sweet tension built between her thighs, her lashes lowered over glittering topaz eyes as her tongue tangled with his.

She barely noticed when he reached for a chalice, and a flutter began in her belly when his demanding kisses were replaced with the trickle of delicious honeyed mead as he placed the cool rim against her swollen lips. The glorious liquid snaked down over her chin as she tried to swallow as much she could, hers eyes held prisoner by his.

She murmured in protest when he took the chalice from her lips, which quickly turned to a moan as his mouth glided down over her arching throat, licking up the trails of moisture. Soon Jolie felt a shivery ball of warmth slowly unfurl in her belly as the mead worked its magic on her feverish body, spreading out in rippling waves as she began to work herself on him in growing frenzy.

She was panting, her head thrown back, her tiny breasts jiggling as her hips pistoned back and forth on his thigh. Her nails dug into his forearms as she shuddered and writhed on him as, with little warning, ecstasy burst between her thighs.

She collapsed against him as her release flooded her, seeking his warmth, luxuriating in the feel of his arms wrapping around her and holding her close. She couldn't prevent the silent tears trickling down her cheeks as she pressed her face against his bare chest, the confusion and loneliness of the past few months rising to overwhelm her.

He tipped her face back, and her chest tightened as he gently licked up her salty tears with his tongue. She mewed helplessly when he eventually set her from him, and from out of nowhere appeared Kiara, helping her rise and holding her carefully as she gently guiding Jolie from the dais.

It was only as she reached the bottom step that she spotted Liana, sprawled on the scattered cushions behind the throne, a look of malicious triumph on her face as she shifted slightly, parting her thighs. Jolie felt a knot of burning jealously unfurl in her belly as she saw the evidence of the King's desire on Liana's thighs, before being tugged away by Liana and led back to her lonely cell.

~*~

Jolie sat in the soothing water, her cheek resting on her drawn up knees as she swirled her fingers in the bubbling warmth. It was early, and she doubted that the other harem slaves would rise until well after the noon meal. She was alone, possibly for the first time since her arrival on the new planet and being secluded in the King's harem.

And as she sat there, feeling the strain ease from her body, she couldn't escape the memory of a satisfied and exhausted Liana, filled with the King's seed, watching from the cushions as the King amused himself with Jolie before sending her on her way. It was little wonder the King did, no doubt wishing to be free of this crying love slave.

She rose, the water streaming down over her creamy curves as she climbed up the steps of the bathing pool. She stiffened slightly as she caught sight of Kiara, standing silently at the edge of the pool, towels in hand. The serving woman frowned at Jolie in displeasure as she climbed the last few steps with natural grace.

"You know it is my duty to accompany you everywhere, korva," the woman murmured, using the alien word for love slave.

"I know Kiara, and I'm sorry," Jolie said softly. She stood patiently as Kiara gently smoothed the soft cloth over her glistening skin, drinking up the moisture. The towel glided over her shoulders and down her arms, gently stroking between each finger. Her breath hitched slightly as the cloth smoothed over her breasts for longer than necessary, gently teasing her nipples into hard peaks as Kiara's fingers rubbed them through the thin cloth.

Jolie's breathing was slightly uneven as the towel eased down over her belly, stroking tantalising circles over the firm skin. A murmur of surprise escaped Jolie as Kiara's hand slipped lower, gently rubbing up and down between Jolie's slightly parted thighs. Jolie's wide eyes flew to the other woman's face, but Kiara's brown eyes were limpid, her features serene.

Jolie released a shuddery sigh of relief as Kiara moved to stand behind her. Her relief was shortlived as Jolie felt Kiara parting the cheeks of her bottom and gliding the cloth along her cleft, pausing with unerring frequency over the tiny rosebud in their depths.

Physical love between a harem slave and an attendant was forbidden, and Jolie knew this was a form of Kiara's subtle punishment for both disobeying harem rules and Kiara's authority. Jolie was helpless to respond to the other woman's impersonal caresses, feeling herself melt between her thighs.

Jolie breathed a sigh of relief as Kiara skimmed the towel down over the backs of Jolie's legs, only to tense as the woman's hands shifted, gliding the towel teasingly up and down her inner thighs.

Jolie knew the effects of the mead still coursed through her body, and was helpless to prevent the arch of her hips as a finger nestled between her lush pink lips for one heart stopping moment, pressing against her swollen nub, before being swiftly withdrawn. Again and again this silent torment was repeated, leaving Jolie unable to predict if or when she would feel again the briefest of caresses where her body most desired. Tremours raced through Jolie's parted thighs as she fought for balance as once again she felt the tantalisingly soft brush of cloth against her molten heat.

Jolie was flushed and panting when Kiara finally rose, her brown eyes wickedly tranquil as she guided Jolie back to her cell where fresh fruit awaited her. It wasn't the first time Kiara had sought to enforce her dominance over Jolie, and Jolie had learnt that the best way to handle Kiara's games was to act as though nothing happened.

The day passed slowly. She curled up with a book on children's games in one of the smaller chambers lavishly lined with leather bound books. There were no doors, but graceful archways at either end of the long narrow chamber that lead to other chambers in a maze of inter-connecting rooms and hallways that made up the harem.

She struggled to grasp the alien logic behind the games, only made more difficult as the longer, unfamiliar words escaped her understanding. It was only then that an obvious thought occurred to her. She had never seen a child of this alien world, and wondered curiously where they were housed in the palace, for surely the harem slaves often bore the fruit of their labour.

She must have fallen asleep, curled up on her side among the cushions, her fingers splayed over the open pages of the book. In her dream a finger gently tweaked a rosy nipple, caressing it to attention. Fingers trailed up over her arm, drawing the cloud of golden hair back over her shoulder and exposing the delicate line of her neck and pink shell of her ear. She murmured as warm lips closed over the soft flesh of her neck, feeling shivers race through her as she was slowly drawn from layers of sleep. She was eased onto her back, a muscular arm pillowing her head as her wrist was drawn above her head. A warm mouth glided down over her collarbone, over the thud of her heart to gently latch onto a pouting nipple through the whisper thin material of her gown.

She moaned, feeling hot and shivery between her thighs as the warm mouth suckled the sensitive peak, licking and nibbling and swirling. A hand glided down over the gentle swell of her belly to draw up the fine sheer cloth and steal between her slightly parted thighs.

Her feet twisted in the cushions as fingers parted her lush lips, exposing her dewy folds to the cool air. Her back arched as fingers lightly stroked her, massaged her. Her lashes fluttered and her hips arched as a long finger slipped up inside of her, exploring her slick heat. She moaned as a thumb moved over her throbbing nub while the finger stroked her tight pussy, coaxing quivers from her young body as delicious tension built between her thighs.

Her dazed golden eyes slowly opened, blinking sleepily, drawn by the feel of another finger slipping up inside of her, stretching her. "Please," she murmured, her hips pressing down on the hand between her thigh with urgent need as she gazed into familiar intense green eyes beseechingly. "I need you inside of me."

"I am inside of you," he teased her huskily, his breath warm against her damp nipple.

"No," she protested as he shifted slightly, the arm pillowing her head curling over her shoulder as fingers closed over the tiny thrust of her breast possessively. The movement drew pressed her against the burning heat of his muscular body. "Not your fingers. I want-"

His shifted over her, his mouth covering hers as a third finger forced its way up inside of her. Her eyes widened, gazing up into amused green eyes as she felt herself deliciously stretched to accommodate the invading digit.

She was lost in his clean warmth surrounding her, to the sensations of his fingers pinching her tender nipple as fingers sunk inside her rippling sheath with growing ease. Moisture pooled between her thighs as his thumb teased her nub, her hips writhing and bucking as his mouth moved firmly over hers in a demanding kiss. Her small hand rose to cup his cheek, her fingers splaying over the golden skin lightly stubbled with black hair.

Tremours raced up her thighs as she felt herself inexorably pushed toward her peak, and her tiny hand closed over his as she sought to draw his hand from between her thighs. "No," she murmured, ineffectually trying to evade the fingers plundering her pussy as she tried to sit up. She struggled weakly in his grasp, feeling the pleasure ripple through her as his fingers between her thighs increased in intensity, driving her relentlessly toward her peak.

Her nails scraped down his forearm in protest, her head rolling side to side. Her skin was flushed, her breathing erratic as the tension coiled low in her belly. She didn't want to come like this, without his body joining hers. "Arik, no..." she whimpered.

She heard his swift indrawn breath, felt him still. At first she was bewildered, then horror flooded through her as she realised what she had done. It was forbidden for a slave to address his or her master by name.