Revenge of the Dixie Devil (2 page)

In the wake of my climax, the Captain’s powers remained undiminished and kept fucking me; in this delicious coda, every thrust seemed to reawaken a brief shadow of my ferocious orgasm. But I could sense that the poor soldier was struggling with an imminent ejaculation of his own, his shaft pulsing mercilessly, clearly stimulated to unsustainable heights of inspiration.

‘You want to shoot your come, Captain?’ He nodded feverishly and emitted an endearing, if inarticulate grunt of approval. ‘Then take out your six-shooter and blast your fucking load all over my tits.’ The next moment confirmed my powers of persuasion: a colossal spume issued forth from his cock, discharging like the blast from a Gatling gun, a fusillade of semen erupting onto my nipples as he jacked off to hasten the delicious barrage. A flood of delightful, viscous spunk cascaded downwards as I gratefully kissed his cheek.

‘I love it when a man shoots a big load … It shows that your effort has been worthy. It fucking turns me on.’ A wayward blast of semen had left a delectable, sloppy white stain on the bed and I leant down to smell the rich, earthy scent of the Captain’s load, a sacrament to our delirious fuck, proof of my southern victory. Pulling the fabric to my lips, I swallowed an errant globule of come and smiled as I savoured the milky effusion, drawing it to my lips and before sucking my fingers.
‘
Yum, Captain. You taste sublime.’

He laughed. ‘So ma’am, have I earned the right to your information?’

‘Yes, dear.’ I smiled sweetly. ‘Just a moment and I shall provide it, as promised.’ I trembled with post-coital delight as I caressed his balls, sensing that some latent power remained in the still-swollen scrotum. As I delicately held the seat of Captain’s powers in my hand, I reached for the papers, now fluttering within reach. Seizing them, I shook the sheaf of documents in his face. ‘But first, Captain, I have a confession to make.’

‘Yes?’

I smiled. ‘I have a captive here in this house, one of great strategic importance.’

He started, incredulous, and stared me in the face. ‘My God, have you got the Dixie Devil?’

In a burst of blinding speed, I seized a coil of rope and bound his hands to the bed. In his post-orgasmic languor, he first seemed to accept my capture as a playful coda to our magnificent fuck before fear and humiliation crossed his features.

‘No. But the Dixie Devil has got you, Captain.’

Ignoring his cries of protest, I quickly dressed, rapidly pulling on my bloomers as my conquest sighed in defeat. Blowing him a dirty kiss in ironic tribute, I walked onto the front lawn, where his magnificent stallion remained tethered. I mounted it with the studied ease of a seasoned spy and marauder, riding into the gloaming, Yankee plans in hand, in the direction of the still-insistent gunfire, undaunted, knowing that my grey-clad comrades in arms would greet me as a heroine. As always, my methods had been beautifully amoral but ruthlessly effective.

Yet, I felt a twinge of mischievous regret; there is something bittersweet in the aftermath of a bravura conquest, and I felt a grudging soldierly respect for the Captain’s valiant performance on the battlefield of the boudoir. I tasted a delicious remnant of his come, a naughty souvenir, still lingering magnificently on my lips.

It tasted like victory. 

The Gift
by Clarice Clique

The whip slashed down on the prince’s naked skin.

‘Harder. I told you not to hold back,’ he cried out.

Theodine gazed down at her husband. Long red welts criss-crossed over his back and thighs, purple bruises displayed where she’d bitten the tender skin of his neck; he’d returned from battle with fewer wounds. She pressed the toe of her boot into his side and he rolled over, revealing the largeness of his cock.

‘I thought I was supposed to be in charge, Asdern.’ She ran the tip of the whip up the length of his prick. ‘But you keep giving me orders.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry, my love. Forgive my impudence and continue how you please.’

Theodine began with gentle little thwacks on his thighs, circling around his groin and his balls. Gradually she put in more of her strength and the whip left fresh marks on his body.

‘Woman, what are you trying to do, tickle me?’

Theodine raised the whip high but Asdern leapt up and grabbed it in his hand. He pulled it away from her and threw it onto the floor.

‘You are of no more use than the cheapest whore,’ he said, pushing her backwards into her gilded reading chair.

Her skirts were around her waist and his cock thrusting inside her before she took her next breath. The prince held her ankles high in the air, gripping them tightly, causing pain to shoot down her legs. There was no room for her to move; her body was squeezed and contorted between him and the chair, trapped between the cold metal of the chair and the hot lust of her husband’s prick.

‘Harder. Fuck me harder, you hussy-born weakling bastard,’ Theodine taunted the prince.

Asdern’s hips moved with a speed that left Theodine barely able to breathe. He released one of her ankles and reached down to her cunt, flicking his thumb over her clit with an expert touch.

Theodine’s whole body shook, she panted and she gasped until finally she had enough air in her lungs to speak.

‘Stop. Please. I can’t take any more.’

Asdern stepped away from her and Theodine would have fallen to the floor but the prince caught her in his arms and carried her to her bed. With care, he parted her legs and lapped at the moistness on her thighs and around her sex.

Over time, as her head felt less light, she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him up to her, kissing his soft lips and tasting her own scent.

Asdern smiled down at her.

‘Do you want me to leave you to rest?’ he asked.

‘You haven’t found your pleasure yet.’

‘It is of no matter as long as you’re content.’

Theodine reached down and guided his cock into her.

‘Gentle,’ she commanded.

‘Of course, my lady.’

She returned his smile as her body moulded around his hardness. ‘We’ve been doing this so long, but I still remember how shocked I was when my gallant young prince told me he wanted me to spank him.’

Asdern laughed softly. ‘Maybe as shocked as I was when I discovered my innocent young bride had dreams of being treated like a common whore.’

‘I know our union was merely another political match, but we are well suited, aren’t we?’ Theodine wrapped her legs around his waist and stroked his hair.

‘We were luckier than most in our pairing.’

‘That sounds like a diplomat’s answer.’ Theodine tried to sound hurt, but her body was awakening and seeking more pleasure. Every part of her was still sensitive from her last orgasm and as she ground up against Asdern she couldn’t contain her moans.

The prince teased her, pulling all but the tip of his cock out. She bucked her hips up onto him and the throb of his prick vibrated through her whole being. He pulled back again but she squeezed around him, yearning for the full force of his orgasm, and he could resist no longer. He pounded into her and Theodine writhed and scratched and screamed and called out his name until the room was filled with the sound of Asdern’s loud moan.

For a moment he was inert, the full weight of his body laying heavy on her, but no matter what they did he always gathered himself together far quicker than she could.

‘Now I will leave you to your rest, sweet Theodine,’ he said. He kissed her on the lips, then climbed off the bed.

She watched him collect his clothes but she was asleep before he left the room.

In the morning, with a hazy, half-awake mind, Theodine stretched across the bed, searching for the warmth of her prince’s body. But he hadn’t returned to her this morning. In the same moment she remembered it was a hunting day. She always felt an emptiness when her husband was absent but today it was enhanced. Asdern fulfilled her desires, but what if he wasn’t entirely satisfied? She knew she couldn’t be the mistress he dreamed of; she could play the role for a while but her natural sexual character was submissive. She lay still for a moment, considering whether she could change and become the woman his body yearned for. She thought of all the ladies she knew and pained her heart imagining that they’d be better wives than she was. Then an idea so vivid and real struck her that she couldn’t ignore it. She suddenly knew how to give Asdern as much pleasure as he gave her.

Theodine’s eyes travelled over the naked bodies crammed into the iron cages. She pulled her cloak tighter around her body and avoided the curious glances of the slave traders; likely they were calculating the risks involved in adding her to their wares for sale. Only one sort of woman walked the streets of Tower City without the protection of men. In the palace, taking her maid’s clothes had seemed daring, now it seemed stupidity. But if her plan was to work she was the only one who could choose this slave. She saw a flash of blue skin amongst the oiled bodies and caution left her.

‘That one. The outlander.’ She pointed with a slender hand, a white hand with soft, clean skin that had never once done hard work. She pulled it back under her cloak; another mistake.

The traders were looking at her with more interest than was comfortable, but there was no option but to continue now. If she ran without buying after being here so long, they would certainly consider her as something to be caught.

‘Bring the outlander for me to inspect,’ Theodine said.

‘Outlanders are expensive,’ the nearest trader said.

As a young girl Theodine had been taught never to show fear in times of danger; that men and animals alike fed on fear as if it gave them permission to act out all the darkest parts of their minds. She raised her head and looked at the man. He was as dirty as any creature she’d ever seen; the stink of him overwhelmed all the perfumes they doused their slaves in. Theodine was shamed at how immediately intoxicating she found this lowest of the low.

‘There is no question of price until I inspect the outlander; a skinny boy painted blue is worth nothing but the revoking of your license.’

The trader glared at her, but the man took a silver chain and walked to the cage. Two men with pikes stood either side of him as he turned a key in the lock but none of the slaves moved. The trader reached in and attached the chain to a collar around the outlander’s neck and yanked it out of the cage.

Theodine inspected the slave. At closer range the blue skin was even more striking, but it was the sculptured body that was exciting the princess. The outlander was female, with high, pert breasts, long, dark nipples and a slit between her legs, but she had muscles that looked as firm and strong as any man’s. The contrast between the outlander’s beauty and the beast of a man who held on to her made Theodine’s mind fill with wanton images.

The trader pulled the outlander up and down in front of Theodine and turned the slave around, showing off the woman’s hard buttocks.

‘This is one of the strongest ones you’ll see. Once these outlanders are broken none work harder.’

Theodine looked into the outlander’s dark eyes and saw nothing broken about the woman; the outlander stared back as if she was the one selecting Theodine as a slave. The princess’s heart was beating fast.

She pulled her bag of coins from her waist and flung it at the trader. ‘I’ll take her with me now.’

The trader caught the coin purse with surprising dexterity but he did not pass the leash of the slave to Theodine.

‘This will do as part of the price,’ he said, weighing the coins in his hand. ‘For the other part you can suck me off.’

Theodine swallowed hard. Were her desires so obvious that even this uncouth, ugly man could see them?

‘I’ve given you enough gold to pay for every slave you own.’

‘Every other slave I own, maybe. It doesn’t come near the price of this one. But I’ve got a generous heart and underneath that cloak I can see you’ve got a pretty mouth, so wrap your lips around my cock and the outlander is yours.’

The men around them were smirking. Theodine stopped herself looking at them; if she did, she knew she wouldn’t have enough bravery in her to prevent her running off without her prize. She dropped to her knees, aware of the mud beneath her staining her dress, and undid the string around the trader’s trousers. His cock was ready for her, but it was still smaller than when her husband was in a relaxed state. She took it into her mouth in one movement, breathing in his stink. There was a moistness between her legs as she listened to the trader laugh with his friends. Everyone else seemed far removed from her even as the humiliation was making her hands want to explore under her skirts.

Then the trader yelled out. ‘The bitch bit me.’

His hands were around her throat and then they weren’t. The outlander was pulling her down the street with such speed that Theodine felt like she was flying. She had no idea what was happening; her feet were moving, her chest was hurting, and she was vaguely aware of the outlander using the chain as a weapon to hit their pursuers with. They ran and ran. Gradually it changed so it was Theodine leading the outlander toward the palace. They ran and ran even when no one was chasing them. Theodine forgot the need for secrecy as her cloak loosened and her golden hair escaped and they darted through the servant’s entrance up to her chamber. When they reached the chamber they fell down together on the bed, laughing and hugging each other. Theodine noticed for the first time that as well as her chain, the outlander was holding the bag of coins Theodine had given to the trader. Specks of dried blood spotted the smooth leather.

‘You’re amazing. Perfect,’ Theodine said. ‘What’s your name?’

‘My friends called me Frost.’ The outlander spoke the common tongue but her accent made every word sound exotic and unique.

‘Frost. I hope we’re going to be friends.’

‘Of course. I knew we were kindred spirits when you tried to bite that man’s cock off in the middle of the market.’

Theodine blushed, but if her desires came to fruition there would be no secrets between her and this slave. ‘I wasn’t trying to bite his cock off. My husband is the only man I have experience of and he enjoys it when I use my teeth. I’m sorry, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t done whatever you did, but I’m not who you think I am.’

‘You are exactly who I think you are. The gods sent me a dream telling me my happiness would be found in a foreign place. The next day the scout saw the slavers. Normally our tribe deals harshly with them but I knew I had to let myself be caught. The gods are never wrong.’

Theodine felt humbled by the outlander’s seriousness. ‘I’m not sure I’m your happiness. Please, take the gold and let your gods lead you safely to where you’re meant to be.’

In reply, Frost reached out and fondled Theodine’s breasts. The rough cloth of her borrowed clothes chafing against her skin gave a new twist to the princess’s pleasure.

Then the door swung open and the prince, clad in his armour, strode into the middle of the room.

‘Theodine! Rumour is racing through the corridors saying you’ve been abducted by a slave outlander and I find you giggling in bed with one. And why are you dressed like a common slut? Explain.’

Theodine sat up. This was her idea, her plan, but how to explain it to the two other people it involved?

‘Asdern, my prince, I wanted to do something special for you. You give me so much pleasure and I wanted to do the same for you. On our first night you told me your secret desires of having a woman unman you, a lover who could dominate you, and I’ve tried but we both know that my own needs are to be taken roughly and –’

‘It is not proper for you to discuss these things in front of a slave, an
outlander
slave.’

‘Yes, it is proper. I went down to the market to purchase a surprise gift for your return from the hunt.’

‘You went to the market alone? Have you lost your senses?’

Frost, who had been lounging on the bed lazily watching the exchange, now stood up and eyed the prince. ‘She went alone, but she did not return alone. I’m more than capable of looking after one lone girl. You should be questioning how Theodine paid for me. It was not with gold.’ She tossed the bag of coins at the prince. He let it fall to the ground and gazed back at the outlander, his eyes full of suspicion.

‘How did you come by this slave? Answer me now.’

Frost laughed. ‘He is very demanding for such a pathetic creature who yearns to be unmanned.’

Theodine glanced over at the outlander; the naked slave seemed more confident and less vulnerable than Asdern in his armour. ‘I sometimes say that to him.’

‘Stop this now, Theodine! Whatever game you’re playing, it is not amusing me. That is your final warning. How dare you share our bedroom secrets with a slave?’

Frost slapped her hand across the prince’s face; the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room and then there was silence. Theodine looked at the red mark left on her husband’s face. She could not read the expression on his face but fear raced through every part of her body. What sprite had possessed her and come up with this fool idea?

‘How dare you talk to your princess in such a manner when she’s put herself in the path of dangerous men in order to get a present purely for your pleasure?’ There was a sharpness to Frost’s voice, undercutting the sweet exoticism of her accent. ‘Get on your knees and beg her forgiveness.’