Bertrice Small - Captivated

And before he might protest that he wasn't ready for her yet, Dore reached down, pushing a hand beneath his balls, and with a single finger found a spot so ultra sensitive that he gasped aloud. "The gods!" He watched with amazement as she pressed against his hidden flesh several times, and his cock was immediately aroused, thrusting itself skyward.

Dore was immediately upon him, kissing the head of his penis, and then mounting him, sheathing him slowly, slowly, leaning back to balance herself upon her hands, her gray eyes closing. "Ohhh, that is nice," she murmured. "I have never before entertained a cock so large."

Reaching up, he grasped her two round breasts in his hands, and began to knead them as the girl atop him rode them both to the most incredible enjoyment he had ever known.

Were all the women of Kava this lustful? he wondered the following morning when he was awakened. Four times she had aroused him, and mounted him, and given them satisfaction. The answer to his question was yes as he learned over the next few weeks. The women of Kava were uninhibited, and totally free of any sexual restraints. Zenaida's serving women used him almost every night.

"You must be ready to service the queen, for after the size of your cock, your performance must be flawless. That will gain her attention, my princeling," the High Procuress told him. "Then you will teach her about love. You know love, don't you, Dagon?"

He nodded. "I was in love with Aurea, the daughter of a neighboring king. We were to marry, and the two kingdoms would one day be joined, for Aurea was King Arlen's only heir. Now my brother will have her to wife, may the gods have mercy upon Aurea. She never liked Nogad, but he wanted her anyway because she was to be mine. Nogad always wanted what was mine."

"Again the greed and ambition of men," Zenaida reminded him softly.

There was no escape from his captivity, Dagon quickly learned. During the day, a slave collar was placed about his neck. He was attached both in front and behind by a length of chain to another male slave. His ankles were also shackled. He marched in step with his companions. The situation was impossible. At night he lay with the serving women, and one night after the girl with him had fallen into a deep sleep, he arose, intending to slip from the tent, for night was the only time he was unshackled. He could not go out the entry because it was guarded, but, creeping across the floor, he lifted the fabric of the tent only to discover that he was in a cage with iron bars. Desperately he moved quickly to the entry of the sleep space, and drew the curtain aside to be met with more bars. He was amazed that he had not heard a gate being closed on him, but he had to admit he had not. There was no help for it. He would simply have to escape from Kava itself. It was not impossible, just unusual.

They traveled the main caravan route for a week, moving across the desert until one morning they turned north onto a smaller track toward the snowcapped mountains in the distance. After another week, they found themselves in the foothills wending their way along seemingly nonexistent paths deeper and deeper into what appeared to be a total wilderness. The canyons grew narrower, the stone walls higher, leaving but a strip of bright blue sky above them. Yet each night they camped at perfectly suitable sites near running streams. It was obvious that this was a familiar passage for the Kavans.

Once they had reached the foothills, each of the male slaves being transported was given a pair of sturdy leather sandals to protect their feet from the rough terrain. And to Dagon's amazement the men were not forbidden from communicating. He fell into the habit of speaking with the men behind and before him. Both knew of Kava prior to their enslavement, and were delighted to have been chosen by the High Procuress to become new members of the women's community.

"She is a former queen herself, old Zenaida," one of the men, called Wit, said one day as they walked and spoke of the future.

"How do you know that?" Dagon was surprised.

"One of the women warriors told me," Wit said with a chuckle. "She favors me, and has made our trip quite pleasant. Tell me, why are you kept in the High Procuress's tent each night? Does she favor you, Dagon of Aramas?"

Now it was Dagon's turn to laugh. "Nay," he answered, "but she means to give me as a gift to their current queen."

"Ahhh," murmured the other companion, Ziv, "to have a cock twice the size of mortal men, and half again as big as a god's!"

"Their women are wearing me out," Dagon complained. "I never knew such lustful creatures. Women should not be so forward. It is unnatural. They treat me like some toy with which they gratify their own desires and passions. I am nothing more to them than a plaything!"

"I can't complain about such treatment," Wit said seriously. "It is every man's dream, my friend. A lustful woman upon whom one can pleasure himself, and yet have absolutely no responsibility to that woman. I shall be very content in Kava."

The caravan climbed higher now, moving into the mountains. Soft, light wool cloaks were issued the slaves, for, despite the sun, the days were cooler, and the winds sharper.

One evening Zenaida announced to Dagon that they were but three days from the city of Kava, but on the morrow they would enter into its kingdom.

"Your mighty cock is well primed after all these weeks of travel," she told him. "My girls cannot say enough in praise of you, my princeling. Until we reach the city, you must rest that magnificent organ so the queen may know its full power the first time you couple with her. Tonight I shall tell you of Kalida."

They sat opposite each other, a charcoal brazier between them heating the tent. They had eaten a fine repast of roasted gazelle, a freshly caught fish that had been grilled with steamed greens and served with a bowl of groats, and a large bunch of green grapes. He was warm, and the wine was mellowing him.

"Is she beautiful?" he asked, curiously.

Zenaida nodded. "The goddess has more than favored her, and in more ways than just her beauty. Kalida's grandmother was a queen of Kava. She is a very proud woman, and a very intelligent one as well. This has perhaps contributed to her inability to fall in love. I do not think she believes she can give herself to anyone who is not her equal. Many men have been brought to Kava, both noble and peasant alike, but never have I found a king's son, a future king, among my slaves. I believe the goddess has sent you to be Kalida's mate, Dagon."

"And yet it was my great penis that attracted you first, lady," he teased her gently.

Zenaida chuckled. "Aye," she agreed, "it was, but was that also not a ploy of the goddess to bring you to my attention?"

He laughed with her. He liked this big kind woman who had more the qualities of a good mother, it seemed to him, than a queen or a dignitary. "Tell me what Kalida looks like," he said. "You say she is beautiful, and the goddess has favored her, but how beautiful?"

"She is tall for a woman. Her head will come to your shoulder. She is slender, yet her form is most womanly. Her breasts are like high cones of snow topped with rosy tips like a pale sunrise just touching the mountain's peak. Her face is shaped like a heart, her forehead smooth, high and unmarked. Her eyes are oval in shape, and the green of an emerald. Her nose is slim, and in perfect proportion with her face. Her mouth is large for a woman, and very, very sensual. Her hair is the color of gilt, the palest gold touched with silver. You have never seen hair this color before, I promise you."

"She sounds most fair," Dagon said softly.

"If you are to win her, you must tread a very fine line, my princeling," Zenaida cautioned him. "She must be treated like a queen at all times, but you must also make her feel like a woman. None have accomplished this feat before you. Do so, and your fortune is made."