Message-ID: <8006eli$9804181727@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com Subject: {Lysander}JDR"Caitlin's Tale B"( Mf M+f ff ds bd 1st best ws )[2/4] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Note: This message was posted by a secure email service. Please report MISUSE OR ABUSE of this automated secure email service to . Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6h9buj$8se$1@sparky.wolfe.net> JOHN DARK REPOST The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other matters that you find distasteful. Caveat lector; you read at your own risk. The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming Attractions," which includes some of the thinking behind the pattern of the reposts, as well as the titles to be reposted in the next week. These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work. If you liked the story, either drop the author a line at that e-mail address or post a comment to alt.sex.stories.d. Please don't post it to alt.sex.stories itself. Posting the comment with a Cc: to the author would be the best way to encourage them to continue entertaining you. The copyright of this story belongs to the author, and the fact of this posting should not be construed as limiting or releasing these rights in any way. In most cases, the author will have further notices of copyright below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as well. ===================== Copyright 1994 by Lysander This file may be distributed freely by electronic means only, provided the text is unaltered and this notice is included. Each user may make one hard copy for personal use. Any other method or purpose of duplication requires the permission of the author. This story contains an awful lot of sex and nudity, but at least it's not gratuitous, like on some Emmy-winning TV shows I could mention. If you're underage in your jurisdiction or are offended by this kind of thing, then move along, folks, nothing to see here. ===================== CAITLIN'S TALE by Lysander Lysander@vnet.net Lysander@abspleasure.com Section B When they arrived at the old stone keep, Ethan Jones, the old caretaker, was waiting for them with his daughter -- and one of Caitlin's best friends -- Heather. Sir Robert ordered Caitlin to stand a ways off while he spoke to Ethan. Caitlin saw a parchment pass hands. Ethan peered at it closely. He could no more read than Caitlin could, but she supposed he was examining the seal. As he handed the parchment back to the knight, his shoulders drooped in defeat. Caitlin remembered that he and Thane Alfred had marched together under King Edward's banner once, long ago. It's not every day one finds oneself ruled by a strange new master. The thought ran like ice water down Caitlin's back. Robert then leaned down and spoke to Heather. He gave her a purse and Heather ran off toward Caitlin's village after a quick glance in her direction. Ethan led the knight through the gates of the keep, and Robert beckoned Caitlin to follow. All three went into the stable. While Robert unsaddled and rubbed down his charger, Ethan put saddle and bridle on the old nag he used to run errands for the thane. "He goes to bring my men," Robert informed her. "Your men?" He ignored her, and she remembered. "Your men, Master?" "Yes, girl. These lands are no mere reward. I am to keep the Welsh tribes out, and keep the rebels in. Or keep them from crossing through this section of the March, at least. To do that, I need soldiers and knights. So I brought my own. They should arrive sometime tomorrow, with enough servants to run this place." "But why did you no' bring them with you? Master." "Because I am no longer a conqueror. I am rightful lord of this place and need no army to take what his mine." Like me, Caitlin thought. "And where did Heather go, Master?" "To pay your mother. I told the girl that you are now 'working' for me. No more questions, now. I have been lenient with you because this is new to you. From now on, you will ask permission to speak to me. Unless I ask a direct question, which you will answer immediately. Do you understand?" "Aye, Master." "Good girl. Now see if you can find something for me to eat. Bread and cheese, cold meat. Then we will begin your training in earnest." Caitlin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched while Robert ate enough for both of them. He had given her permission to eat as well, but she was much too nervous, frightened and -- she admitted it to herself at last -- excited. She was naked again, as he had ordered. She was amazed at how easily she sat there, uncovered. She did not even feel the desire to cover herself with her arms. She enjoyed being naked around him, even here in the kitchen or outside in the courtyard. She found herself thinking of the feel of his skin when she washed him, of the hardness of him. She knew that soon he would take her, and now she looked forward to it. He wasn't Conal, but there was something similar about him. The life of a peasant and the life of a warrior had made them strong, but where Conal was bulky, her master was lithe and wiry. She could never have gotten her arms around Conal's broad back, but she imagined her master would fit very nicely into her embrace. Her flesh tingled in anticipation of that even. Her nipples were hard again, and she felt a delicious warmth between her thighs. The muscles spasmed occasionally and sent tremors through her belly. Robert put a slice of cheese on the last piece of dark bread and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he looked thoughtfully at Caitlin. Unconsciously, she sat a little straighter under his gaze, thrust her breasts out a little further. He emptied his cup in a single mouthful and placed his forearms on the table, surrounding the plate and cup. "Where shall we begin your training?" "The bedroom, Master?" Despite her nudity, Caitlin blushed at her brashness. Robert seemed to turn the thought over in his head before giving it a small but firm shake. "No, not the bedroom. You will serve me in other ways as well. It should be someplace that is normally full of people, so that when you are serving me, you can look at the place where a man took you for the first time. The main hall, I think. Yes, that will be perfect." They left the kitchen and walked down the short passageway toward the central building. As they passed the kennel, Thane Albert's dogs began barking furiously. Robert's face lit up in the first truly pleasant smile Caitlin had ever seen on him. He walked to the gate and looked over. Two wolfhounds snarled at him, drool dripping off their muzzles. Each was as big as a man, and as ferocious as the beasts it was bred to fight. Robert made to open the gate. Caitlin grabbed his arm before he could lift the latch. "Master! Do not! Only Thane Albert and his huntmaster are able to handle these animals. When they bait wolves, the only bets made are on which of these will kill the wolf! They will kill you!" Robert pried her fingers from his arm and held her at arm's length. "You show concern for your master, and that is proper, but you also show a lack of trust. You will have to be punished for that. After I make these fine dogs' acquaintance." He opened the gate and stepped into the kennel. Immediately the dogs rushed him. Caitlin knew they would crush him with their weight and rip him apart with their teeth and claws. She could not look, but she could not turn away. Robert shouted something in French at the dogs. She could not make out the word, but the dogs halted as though they had run into a wall. Robert rose on his toes and walked toward the dogs. And they backed up! Heads lowered and tails tucked between legs, they retreated from her master step for step. Robert held out his hands, palms down, and the dogs walked forward and placed their heads against his hands. He stroked their heads and backs for a few moments before turning on his heel and walking out of the kennel. "May I speak, Master?" "You want to know how I did that." She nodded. "I learned it from an old woman who practically raised me." "What kind of woman can teach a man that?" "She was a... I do not know the word. She... spoke with the trees." He looked embarrassed, expecting disbelief, despite the feat he had accomplished with the dogs. "My mother said her grandmother also spoke with the trees, Master." He said nothing, merely placed an arm across her bare shoulders and led her into the keep proper. Strangely, Caitlin felt not only nervousness and excitement, she felt comfort as she pressed her bare flesh into her master's (when had she started *thinking* of him as her master?) side. The main hall was the central room of the keep. It served as chapel and dining hall most of the time, but was used when the Thane heard grievances once a month, and as hospital and dormitory when the Welsh attacked. At the moment it was empty of furnishings because the keep's master -- former master -- was gone and likely to never return. "Go stand where the thane kept his chair." A slight nudge got her moving; she walked to the spot and stood. "Thane Albert sat here on audience days and feast days, Master. This is where the altar stands for Mass." Robert's long strides carried him quickly to her side. "Excellent. The center of attention always. Power and sacrifice, eh?" A quick search of the small rooms off the main hall found blankets, pillows and a chair. Pillows and blanket were arranged on the selected spot and Robert ordered Caitlin to lie down. He sat in the chair a short distance from her feet. His voice was soft, echoing slightly in the great chamber as he spoke to her. "You like the boys, don't you Caitlin? You like to think about them. At night. The thoughts are pleasant, aren't they? Is there one boy you think about more than the others?" Conal, with his dark blonde hair curling around his head. His shoulders wide and powerful as he tosses hay onto the wagon, skin glowing under a sheen of sweat. Caitlin nodded. "Yes, Master. His name is--" "I do not need to know his name. Do you think of his arms around you? His kisses on your lips? His hands on your body? I thought so. And at night, when you want him but cannot have him, do you pretend that your hands are his? Do you touch yourself as you long for him to touch you?" Caitlin nodded. Her eyes were closed as she listened to her master's soft, powerful voice and thought of Conal. "Show me." Her eyes opened abruptly. His gaze bored into her, but he did not repeat himself. She did not want to make him repeat himself. She closed her eyes, trying to pretend she was alone, under her blankets with her mother asleep on the other side of the room. Tentatively, her hands moved to her breasts. They were too full to stand up on her chest, but fell slightly to the sides. She lifted them, caressed their undersides with her hands. She traced patterns over them with her fingertips. She scraped her nails across the flesh, making goose bumps rise. With the pads of her fingers, she rubbed the very tips of her nipples, making them even harder. She pressed firmly against them, imagining Conal's strong hands on her. She pulled on her nipples with thumbs and forefingers, but in her mind, it was Conal's lips tugging on them. A moan escaped from her lips. It wasn't her tongue caressing them, it was Conal's. Her hands moved lower, down her belly, fingers tickling the rim of her bellybutton. As she neared the juncture of her thighs, she spread her knees apart, as Conal would do. She stretched her fingers toward her moistening slit; Conal spoke to her. "You are mine. You belong to me." Yes, I am yours. Her fingers found their target. While one index finger lightly tapped on her clitoris, the others traced the lips of her opening. Take me, Conal, take me! She suddenly buried two fingers in her cunt up to the first joint. She felt Conal's body crush hers as he laid himself along her torso. Her breasts were crushed by his hairy chest. Only... Conal's chest was smooth and hairless. She opened her eyes in surprise, fingers still working in and on her cunt. Robert sat in his chair, naked. His prick pointed skyward. "You're thinking of me now, yes?" "Master," she moaned. "Take me, Master. Fuck me, please." She thrust three fingers into herself as deeply as she could. In and out at a furious pace. But she wanted more. She wanted that magnificent cock completely in her. More than anything else, she wanted her master to possess her totally. He knelt between her thighs. He removed her hands from her cunt. He sucked the juices from her fingers before placing them on her breasts. He slowly slid the fingers of his right hand into her wetness. They were large, and thickly callused, causing a little discomfort as they pressed deeper. She felt the nub of his index finger bump into her clitoris. It had not healed smooth. Rough scar tissue covered the tip, and every move it made seemed to drag her clit with it. She gasped at the sensation. She felt his other fingers move inside her, all three of them she thought. They curled and spread inside her, stretching the muscles of her sex. Getting her ready. He crawled above her. Supporting himself with one hand, he rubbed the head of his cock up and down her slit, wetting it with her own juices. He guided himself to her entrance. He pushed slowly until the head was inside. He paused for a moment, too long for Caitlin. "Do it, Master," she hissed. "Do it!" He thrust his hips forward and ripped through her maidenhead. Her eyes closed tightly against the bright lights and her back arched in an instinctive attempt to escape the source of hurt, causing more of her flesh to press against Robert's hirsute body. A wordless cry erupted from Caitlin's lips as her womanhood began in pain and joy. Again, Robert held himself still above her. He was buried completely inside her, his groin pressed into hers. She pushed against him with her hips. "Fuck me, Master. Fuck your slave." So he did. His strokes were slow and steady. Almost all the way out, then all the way back in. Caitlin thrust her hips against him, desperate to have him inside her. Quickly Robert's thrusts matched hers. Frantically, they fucked each other. Robert let his arms collapse and he fell on top of Caitlin. It knocked the breath out of her for a moment, but she wrapped her arms and legs around his back, trying to draw all of him into her. Only his hips moved now. They pounded at her violently, painfully. But the pleasure, the rapturous pleasure, washed the pain away. She was his, truly. His possession of her was complete, total. His panting in her ear was as sweet music, his coarse hair on her soft skin was as velvet, his pounding at her groin was as a gentle caress. Everything about him was perfect, broken nose and missing finger and all, for without those flaws he would be someone else, and it would not be her master making her a woman, but someone else in another body. This was a hundred, a thousand times better than when she pleasured herself at night. She could not predict what Robert's next move would be. Would he caress her breast or pinch her nipple? Was he going to speed up or slow down his thrusts? Was he going to kiss her lips or her throat? Would he ever stop? Please God, don't let him stop. She felt the wave building up, the pressure inside her increasing, demanding release. Sweet release. Her body was no longer hers, not even Robert's. It was its own being, and it had power of its own, which it was going to release. Soon... soon... soon... Now! "Oh God! Master! Fuck me!" she screamed as her climax took her. "Aye! Aye! Aiieeee!!!" At the same time, Robert lay stock still on top of her as he emptied inside of her. Give me all of you, Caitlin silently cried. For minutes they lay like that, master on top of slave, bodies quivering against each other. Robert stirred first. Slowly, he withdrew from her warmth. He knelt above her and walked on his knees until he was astride her shoulders. His cock was above her face, streaked with her blood and soaked in their mingled juices. "Lick it," he told her. "Take the blood back into you." Caitlin's tongue stretched up toward the half-hard cock above her. Hesitantly, it touched a spot of pink on the underside. Robert's cock jerked in response. Emboldened, Caitlin sent her tongue all along the underside, gathering up her blood and their spendings. Greedily, she lapped at the shaft. She peeled back the foreskin and sucked the head into her mouth. She circled the rim with her tongue a dozen times, and felt him harden in her mouth. She wriggled out from between his thighs and knelt on hands and knees, so she could get at more of his cock. She licked and sucked on the shaft until it was spotlessly clean. And she kept licking and sucking. Her head pushed it in all directions, and her mouth chased it. She took the head between her lips once more, and moved further down the shaft until it nudged the back of her throat. She tried to take even more, but gagged. She wanted him to come in her mouth. She was determined to taste his seed. But he pulled out and stood. Caitlin let out a small whimper and tried to suck him back in. "No," he said, pushing her head away. "It's time for your punishment. Lean over the chair and wait until I return." When he was satisfied with Caitlin's posture, he walked out of the hall, cock swinging in front of him. He was gone an awfully long time, Caitlin thought. She reached underneath her, between her thighs, with one hand. She diddled her clit, and snaked a finger between her labia. Lazily, she played with her sex, awaiting her master's return. She heard a whistle and then a sharp sting on her left buttock. She shrieked, from surprise more than pain. Robert stood beside her, a thin birch branch held tightly in one hand, a stern look on his face. "I did not give you permission to play with yourself. Ten lashes. Outside the kennels, you displayed a lack of trust. Ten lashes. You spoke without permission. Five lashes. But you spoke out of concern, so I will withhold five lashes. Twenty lashes in all. You will count them, and if you miss one, we will of course begin again." "Yes, Master," she answered meekly. Whistle. Sting. "One, Master." "The number will be sufficient." Whistle. Sting. "Two." The individual strikes were only annoying, but their cumulative effect was painful. "Five." She began to squirm under the assault. Her thighs rubbed together between lashes. Partly this was to relieve the pain, partly it was to stimulate her clitoris. Oh God. Was that ten or eleven? She could only guess. "Ten." Whistle. Sting. "Eleven." Would he never reach twenty? "Nineteen." Whistle. Sting. "Twenty." She heard the branch fall to the floor. Then she felt her master's hands caressing her reddened buttocks. The flesh was so tender that at first his touch was more painful than the branch's, but soon his hands were soothing away the pain. Robert fell to his knees and planted his face between her buttocks. His tongue and lips roamed over her weeping pussy. He sucked on her lips. His tongue darted into her over and over. He nibbled on the folds of flesh surrounding her cunt. He sucked her blood-engorged clit between his lips. The fluttering in her stomach began again as his mouth worked its magic on her sex. "Oh, Master! I'm going to... I'm going to..." He sucked hard on her clit, drawing in air at the same time so that her button vibrated against his lips. She cried out her pleasure and passion, and collapsed across the arm of the chair. "Mmm, Master..." Darkness. When Caitlin awoke, it was to the sun shining in her eyes. Had she slept the entire night? No, it was just dusk. Shielding her eyes, she looked out the window. She saw a line of packhorses and wagons following a pennant. She thought she could make out several women. Robert's men and their servants. She found her clothes lying across a chest but left them there, and went to search for her master. She heard his whisper from behind the first door she came to. Does a slave open the door or knock? She knocked and heard Robert call her in. He sat on the edge of his bed, naked. Kneeling between his legs was a woman, also naked. Caitlin only noticed her long blonde hair, slim back and waist, and rounded buttocks covered with pinkish red stripes. Robert's hands held her head and she could tell by the slurping sounds that she was sucking his cock. But that was HER job! Rushing across the small room, she grabbed a handful of blonde hair and pulled, hard. She smiled in satisfaction at the resultant scream. "What do you think you're doing, bitch?! He's mine! Do you understand me?" She looked down into tearful, fear-filled eyes. It was Heather. The closest thing to a best friend she had. Her friend, sucking her master's cock! Still holding Heather's head back by the hair, she slapped her ex- friend across the face, as hard as she could. She raised her hand for another slap, but was stopped by a crushing grip on her wrist. She turned to see Robert's angry eyes focused tightly on her. His jaw was clenched, and she could see a vein throbbing in his forehead. She felt her stomach sink in fear. He had been stern with her, cold with her, but this was the first time she had ever seen anger in his face. "I am yours, slave?" His voice was like steel, cold and hard, cutting. "I am yours? No. You are mine, as Heather is mine. You are both my slaves." "But--" "SILENCE!" He took her other wrist, forcing her to let go of her hold on Heather. "Heather saw us. Saw me taking you, saw me punishing you, saw your reactions. She asked to serve me as well. I accepted," he concluded simply. "But that is irrelevant. You do not control my body, I control yours. Who I..." He squinted, trying to remember the word. "Who I fuck is no concern of yours. Who you fuck is entirely up to me." His voice lowered, almost as though her were talking to himself. "I thought you had learned, but I see you have not. I have never had to punish a slave for something so serious, for believing *she* owned *me*. Perhaps when my men come..." "Master?" "What!" "I saw... I wanted to tell... That was why I came looking for you." "What are you babbling about?" "Your men, Master." She pointed out the window. He watched them for a minute. "About half an hour away." He stood, pulling on a tunic. He looked down at Heather, who knelt on the floor, silently crying. "Your father will be with them. Merde!" As he finished dressing, he spoke to Caitlin. "If you cannot learn with one master, perhaps you can learn with two. You are both my slaves, but from this moment, you are also Heather's. You will follow all her orders that do not conflict with mine. You will... Merde! We'll work this out later. Heather, do what you will with her, but do not mark or injure her. If you strike her, you may only use your hand. On her head or face, only your open hand. Anything else is your decision. I have to go head off your father." He strode quickly out of the room and Caitlin was left alone with Heather, who had stopped crying and was now looking eagerly and maliciously at her. And grinning evilly. "I'm really sorry, Heather. Had I known it was you, I'd not..." Heather only peered stonily at her. Caitlin dropped to her knees and bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Mistress." Heather stood. "Better. But you still have to be punished. However, first let's see if you are as good as our master at sucking cunt." She reached down and jerked Caitlin's head back by the hair. Caitlin's mouth opened wide to gasp, but was silenced by Heather's wet slit. Caitlin had tasted her own juices, mixed with Robert's and her own blood. She could taste Robert in the drippings from Heather's pussy, so she knew he had already fucked her. Had she been a virgin, as well? Heather's fist tightened in her hair and she growled down at her, "I said lick my cunt!" Dutifully, Caitlin's tongue ventured out to the slit that was smearing its juices over her mouth. She dabbed at the labia, gathering up the fluids that clung to them. She discovered that she liked the taste. Her tongue grew more insistent, poking at the entrance, forcing its way past the yielding lips. She tasted the musk of Heather and smelled her sweat. Pubic hair tickled her nostrils as Heather ground her sex on Caitlin's mouth. Ever deeper, her tongue explored the girl she had grown up with, straining against the inner muscles. She looked up Heather's body, between her apple-sized breasts to a face screwed up in passion. She plastered her mouth to her pussy. She sucked hard on her labia, on her clitoris. She nibbled on her flesh. Heather hunched against her face, moaning in pleasure. Caitlin tried to push her whole head inside Heather, so great was her hunger for the girl and her desire to please her mistress. Heather's body jerked and convulsed. Her body bent forward, as though she were trying to curl into a ball. Suddenly, Caitlin's mouth, her entire face, was flooded with hot musky fluid as she brought her first woman to orgasm. Heather fell back on the bed, overcome. Her legs were splayed wide, and Caitlin could see her pussy lips still quivering slightly. She reached between her thighs to her own cunt and slipped a couple of fingers in. She frigged herself frantically, almost clawing at her pussy, desperate to come. Heather stood over her again and planted her wet slit on Caitlin's face. "Whatever you do, don't stop sucking." Happily, Caitlin complied. She would gladly suck all day on the pussy above her, whether ordered to or not. She heard Heather grunt, and the flavor of her secretions changed slightly. Then, they were obviously more bitter, and the scent was sour rather than musky. "Swallow it," Heather ordered, just as Caitlin realized what was happening to her. As her mouth filled with urine, Caitlin tried to pull away. But Heather was holding her too tightly. Her thighs kept Caitlin's head immobile, and her mouth was too tightly clamped to the other girl's pussy for her to even spit it out. She had to swallow or choke, so she swallowed. As soon as her mouth was empty, it was filled again. She swallowed yet again, but this time the flavor did not have time to register in her brain. All she could think about was her utter humiliation. Sir Robert would likely never know anyone in her village by name, but Heather's friends were her friends, she could keep this moment secret or not. Caitlin's pride was completely in her hands. She had power over Caitlin now, even more than Robert had given her. Of their own accord, her hands went up to Heather's breasts. She fondled and caressed them as she swallowed as much of Heather's piss as she could. Some of it ran down the sides of her face, along her neck, and down her body, and it felt pleasantly warm on her skin. Heather didn't have much urine in her, apparently, for the flood soon turned into a trickle, and then stopped. "Clean me. With your tongue." ======= Copyright 1994 by Lysander This file may be distributed freely by electronic means only, provided the text is unaltered and this notice is included. Each user may make one hard copy for personal use. Any other method or purpose of duplication requires the permission of the author. E-mail: Lysander@vnet.net or Lysander@abspleasure.com Lysander Text-Op, Absolute Pleasure BBS Skokie, Illinois (708) 677-3369 ===================== CAITLIN'S TALE by Lysander Section B -30- -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |