Bound and Initiated (24 page)

“Grace?” Sarah said with a little sigh.

“Mm-hmm?” Grace replied as she soaped Sarah’s breasts.

“Do Ostia girls ever get to…” She felt herself blushing yet again as her voice trailed off.

“With each other?” Grace said gently.

Sarah nodded.

“Nuptae and up get to share beds when they’re not pleasing guardsmen,” Grace said softly.

“Do you do that?” Sarah whispered.

“Sometimes,” Grace said coyly. Then, “Yes. I’d like to. With you, Sarah.” She ran her hand, with the soapy sponge, naughtily down between Sarah’s thighs. Sarah gave a little gasping moan. “You should tell your pater you want to share a bed with me. He likes to watch, so you never know—we might not have to wait until you’re off duty.”

Sarah felt her face grow hot again as she imagined it, but the thought of kissing Grace, of Robert saying it was alright and that he wanted to see her do it, seemed to relax her more even than the warm, bubbly water did.

They did not speak again, until Grace had raised Sarah from the tub and dried her thoroughly with a fluffy towel, carefully drying the cuffs and the skin under them before applying the soothing lotion that seemed so effectively to prevent the cuffs from chafing Sarah’s skin. The guard and the order knew how to keep a girl comfortable in her leather, at least, she thought wryly. While Sarah passively watched Grace tend to these preparations, she tried very hard not to think about how lovely it would be if, for example, the red-haired nupta were to take it upon herself to kiss Sarah’s nipples, or slip a naughty finger between her pussy-lips while she gently dried Sarah’s thigh cuffs and rubbed the lotion on underneath them.

Something about the way Claudia had set her up for this
civilizing act
upon Sarah’s first waking that morning seemed to have turned her entire body into a sort of live wire: a conductor that shot arousal through every sinew and every limb the moment another person touched her. Now that person was Grace, but soon it would be Robert, and at the very thought of how that would feel, Sarah gave an unbidden whimper.

“Are you thinking of your pater, columba?” Grace asked, as if she had waited to make the query until Sarah had given an indication of her helpless excitement at the prospect of being bound bottom-up over the bench to await her master’s pleasure.

“Y-yes,” Sarah stammered.

“That’s just as it should be,” Grace said simply, tying Sarah’s hair with a red ribbon into a loose ponytail. Then she led Sarah at last back into the pleasure chamber itself, where the bench stood again between the columns. The bench appeared different to Sarah’s eyes, though, and it took her a moment to figure out that its surface now sloped downward. Nor did she understand why, until Grace had tugged her to the higher end, and urged her to lay herself down: the slope of the padded leather raised Sarah’s backside up to become the highest and most prominent part of her body, while her face, with her right cheek resting on the furthest and lowest end, made the least important part.

Grace moved Sarah’s ponytail so that it hung down to the left. “Your pater will wish to see your face as he enjoys you,” she said solemnly. “Your tears will season his pleasure. The lesson he teaches you tonight will be hard to learn for you, columba. Know, however, that as your pater civilizes you, his pleasure will be very great indeed. When he pumps your bottom full of his seed, pride will fill your heart that he has found you worthy of such a gift.”

She fell silent as she fastened Sarah’s collar to a ring on the bench, and then her belt and her thigh cuffs. Sarah shuddered at the knowledge that she could not move now; she would not escape what would happen, very soon, to her bottom, whether she liked it or not. A man—a true man—would open her there, thrusting just as he pleased in her most private place. And Sarah would have to part her own backside and hold it spread wide for him to do it.

The evening bell sounded. From inside the pleasure chamber, the words of the doorkeepers and of the pater who came to fuck couldn’t be heard, but Sarah shivered, thinking of them. Grace remained silent. What would happen now?

The rush of air and heat upon her naked calves, the backs of her thighs, and her bottom-cheeks signified that someone had swung the silent stone door open, and then closed it behind him. His footsteps could not be heard on the thick carpet, but when he spoke his voice came from only a few feet away.

“Is the bottom ready for fucking, nupta?”

“Almost, pater,” Grace said quietly. “I have cleansed it and perfumed it. Shall I anoint it now?”

“Yes, thank you, nupta,” Robert’s voice said.

Anoint it?
How could Sarah possibly feel such arousal at being referred to—or, rather,
not
being referred to—that way? The voices spoke not of Sarah, but of her backside.

She heard the hidden cupboard open. She strained her ears, as if something about the sounds could tell her what Grace did, or got, over there. When she felt Robert’s hands suddenly encompass both her bottom cheeks, she started and gave a little cry of surprise.

“Shh, columba,” Robert said, squeezing her bottom gently, cupping its roundness, parting the cheeks and then letting them close again. “Grace is just going to make it easier for me to get inside you here. You’ve had the doctor’s trainer, and you’ve had the civilizer, but your pater’s cock is another matter.” He squeezed again. Sarah gave a little sighing moan, but then, abruptly, Robert stepped back.

Grace’s voice then. “Present your anus, columba.” Again the same words—and, for Sarah, the same hot blush. Her cuffs rattled a little, with the rings and clips that bound them to her belt, as she reached back and obeyed. She drew breath when she felt again the warm air move against her little ring.

Then Grace’s fingers were there, very slick and oily.
Anoint it:
lube. Sarah bit her lip at the shameful, pleasurable feeling.

“How much, pater?” Grace asked.

“A great deal, if you please, nupta. I will ride her long and hard, and she is still very tight, as you can see.”

“Oh, God,” Sarah whispered.

“Hush, Sarah,” Robert said. “All columbae must learn this lesson. Tonight you will serve as you should, silent except for your cries of submission. Go ahead, nupta, and ease my way.”

Sarah gave little sobs as Grace’s fingers entered her anus over and over, making it slicker and slicker. Pleasure, and discomfort, and fear seemed to mingle together into a welter of emotion and sensation that she thought she could never pick apart.

At last, Robert said, “That’s enough. Thank you, nupta. You may get my mastix.”

“What?” Sarah said, startled. What had she done? Was it just for saying
Oh, god?

“I told you to be silent, Sarah,” Robert said sternly. “Your bottom must be whipped now, to tame you. First the taming and then the civilizing act. Take your hands from your cheeks now. They must be held out of the way, so that you may not interfere with your taming.”

When she had obeyed, he unclipped her hands from her belt and refastened them to the front legs of the bench. Sarah trembled.

Grace said, “May I suck your cock while you whip the bottom, pater?”

“Yes, nupta. Go ahead and get the kneeling cushion.”

Part of Sarah wanted to beg for mercy, but at the same time a stronger part wanted desperately to show Robert that she could be silent and submit to his mastery. Whether she submitted because she wanted to be an Ostia girl, or she submitted because by becoming an Ostia girl she would fulfill her mission of infiltration, her body cried out for the whip, and she began instinctively even to wriggle her backside, as if to show her pater that she could be a good girl for her taming.

The mental image of Grace kneeling on the same cushion upon which Sarah had knelt her first night, to have her face fucked, of Grace’s mouth full of Robert’s cock while he raised the terrible twelve-tailed whip, filled Sarah’s mind. She felt her pussy clench at the picture, and then, to her astonishment, Robert began to whip her not really painfully, but just forcefully enough to make a sting that seemed to travel instantly, as pleasure, to her clit.

Sarah cried out not in pain but in pleasure—and still very, very submissively. She heard the wet sounds of an accomplished blowjob behind her, and that seemed to make her arousal even greater. Robert used the mastix quickly, striking her bottom on both sides, then her thighs, over and over. Now some real pain did arise, but he seemed to have prepared her so well that the pain itself was pleasurable. When he began to aim the mastix at her spread, fluttering pussy, Sarah screamed in pleasure; she could never have imagined that she would want something like that to go on, but if she had been allowed to utter words she would have said,
More, please, pater
.

She wanted to know if her pater found Grace’s mouth enjoyable, and if Grace liked sucking Sarah’s pater’s cock—liked getting it hard for Sarah’s bottom. These were useless questions, she thought with a smile, as she seemed to float above herself, not looking down on the scene but somehow inhabiting each of the roles: her submissive self with its backside offered up for whipping and fucking; Grace’s submissive, sucking mouth, bobbing back and forth to please the cock that filled it; even Robert and his whip, preparing to ride his columba’s upturned bottom.

The whipping stopped.

“You may go, nupta,” Robert said. All seemed silent where before there had been the noise of Sarah’s cries and the creak of the bench when she writhed over it, and the sound of a well-filled girl’s mouth.

“Yes, pater,” Grace said.

“Please take my robe, and return my mastix to the rack, before you depart.”

“Yes, pater.”

Then, the door again; the air on the flesh of her backside that the mastix had made ache and burn. Robert, naked now, unfastening her wrists again.

“Reach back and present your anus, columba,” Robert said. “It’s time.”

Her bottom-cheeks felt terribly warm as she spread them. Her breath came in little panting gasps.

“What a sweet little flower,” Robert said. She felt his cock there at last, then, and as he began to push, he took hold of Sarah’s belt, too, so that she felt so terribly controlled that she felt her cheeks and her anus tighten in alarm, shutting the cock out, denying her master his pleasure.

“No, Sarah,” he said. “You must learn to give me my way here. Open this little anus, or I shall force it open with a punishment plug, to teach you how to submit, and then have my bottom-fuck after you have learned that lesson.”

Sarah heard a whine come from her chest at this threat. She tried desperately to remember how she had opened for the plug. The hand on her belt moved to her right shoulder, and Robert pushed harder, using his grip to make certain he could drive inward. With a sob then, she remembered, and her bottom opened to his cock.

Robert gave her no time to become used to the strange feeling of fullness, but began to fuck immediately. Grace had lubed Sarah’s anus so thoroughly that Robert easily thrust in at full length as Sarah cried out at the way he seemed to be moving inside the entire length of her body, and not just her bottom.

“There you go,” Robert murmured. “There you go. You’re civilized now, aren’t you, Sarah?”

The command not to speak saved her from having to answer the question, Sarah hoped. She had no idea what she would have said in response, because the feeling wasn’t civilized at all; no, it was wild, and Robert seemed to be fucking her bottom wildly.

It hurt. Yes, it hurt a lot, but the effect of the taming whip seemed to extend even to this point of pain, and something about the way the cock moved inside her seemed to stimulate a place deep inside her pussy, too, so that the pain wasn’t truly painful, but something much more ambiguous. She did cry, and she felt Robert’s eyes upon her, watching her bite her lips and sob, as her tears
seasoned his pleasure
.

Robert took her hands from her bottom and, holding her wrists, bent them behind her back, holding onto her wrists to give his thrusts power. The feeling wasn’t uncomfortable. Rather, it seemed an intimacy, and Sarah imagined, as suddenly his movements became more spasmodic and he began to come, that she could feel Robert’s affection for her in the way his fingers stroked the skin around her cuffs.

He held himself deep and Sarah, to her surprise, found that despite the discomfort of having his whole cock inside her bottom, she loved the feeling of his hips against her bottom-cheeks. He cried out, and then she felt his seed spurting inside her and, yes, she did feel proud.

“
Consummatum est, o nupta,
” he said. “
Bene fututa es
.”

It is accomplished, nupta. You have been well fucked.

Robert released Sarah from the bench without rebinding her hands, and carried her to the bed. Sarah’s bottom felt very odd, and the trickling out of her pater’s seed from her anus felt ticklish even as it did keep alive the pride inside her breast at having pleased him.

She expected to have her hands clipped together again—she even held them out to Robert for the purpose—but he smiled and said, “You’re a nupta now, Sarah.”

So she was able to feed herself the snack that Kevin brought, feeling even more satisfied with herself though she felt a pang at the loss of the intimacy of having Robert feed her from his hand.

After the snack, Robert went to the bathroom to wash. At his suggestion then, Sarah did the same, feeling a strange—even absurd, she thought—thrill at being allowed to be in the bathroom alone for the first time in three days.

The feeling of freedom went away a little when she saw that Robert had seated himself in his man’s throne, when she returned from the bathroom, and put the kneeling bolster in front of it. He held his hand out to her, and she came and took it, standing before him.

“You’ll suck my cock now,” he said. “And then I’ll have your bottom again, in the bed.”

“Yes, pater,” Sarah said, her left hand straying involuntarily back to her bottom, which had clenched in alarm at the thought of another fucking.