Part 1
"So we're still on your father's lands?" It was almost a moan and the best Amber could do with Slone slowing running a finger around one of her hard nipples. She lay on her back, eyes closed, mid-afternoon sun finding its way through the thick jungle canopy while he focused his gentle attentions on her breasts.
He chuckled, an easy sound that mixed with the call of the jungle birds like music to her ears - she'd been trying to get close to him for some time now, the furtive glances from across the fruit market baskets where they both worked had eventually won her this spontaneous 'lunch break' with him. They were deep in the forest, far from the path that led from the market out of the village.
"My father owns all the lands as far as the eye can see." His fingers moved on to her other nipple, slowing tracing a line around and around the dimpled brown flesh of her aureole, taking his time to acknowledge her hardening little button at the center.
She stretched her arms, the magic of his fingers making her heart beat faster, the cloud of butterflies in her tummy threatening to take flight. She was young, the world young to her. Her body was reacting to things in such wonderful, delicious ways - the gentle breeze on her hardened nipples, the splash of sun that warmed her skin, the auburn hair that was like a soft mat between her back and the damp cool ground that pressed against her butt. And his fingers. His fingers that were snaking down her tummy to the last little bit of silk she wore around her hips.
She opened her eyes and through the white of the sun she saw his face was only a few inches from her's. Smiling, she playfully pushed his hand away from the silk knot at her hips.
"That isn't saying much for your father - I can't see very far through the jungle." She raised her head and their lips brushed. Her first kiss. She looked into his eyes as his hands found the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his a second time. The butterflies in her belly took wing and suddenly her whole world revolved around the flesh that was pressing into hers - his hard muscular body pressing against her naked breasts, his hands caressing her hair and holding her head, the tongue that gently explored her mouth, like a tentative snake that only wanted to dart about inside her.
He pulled away and she studied his face, seeing everything through a dreamy veil. The butterflies had flown south and now the tender flesh between her legs throbbed and begged for attention. Looking at his slender nose, the curve of his lips, the intensity of his brown eyes, she was sure that if his fingers started down her belly again she wouldn't bat them away. Not this time.
"I want to tie you," he whispered.
Her stomach instantly knotted and the ripple of heat that exploded from the hardening button between her legs raced through every nerve. Her breath caught, her eyes now looking as deeply into his as she could.
"Like the slaves in the village. You can be my slave." He leaned close and gave her a soft, quick kiss.
She didn't respond in kind. Her mind was whirling - tied and naked women, ropes cutting into skin, sometimes on display in the courtyard with whip marks slicing their bodies, sometimes shackled on the free platforms, moaning as the passing strangers fondled their naked breasts or made love to them from behind. But always helpless, either by the restraints that held their bodies or the will that seemed to come from deep inside them as they went about the business of picking fruit from the baskets at the market, their naked bodies glistening in the heat of the morning.
"You aren't old enough to take slaves. You can't claim me." Her heart was pounding in her chest. Then, as if her voice had suddenly distanced itself from her, she heard herself say, "Just for play? Just this once?"
He held her face by her chin, brown eyes meeting her emerald greens. "Just for play. I won't even make you completely naked." He gave her another kiss and she couldn't help herself. Closing her eyes she opened her mouth wide and took his tongue willingly. He pulled away, a smirk touching his lips. "I promise."
She wanted more of his lips, more of his body. His slave. She felt weak and warm and vulnerable. She watched in fascination as he rummaged around in the underbrush and finally pulled out a few coils of brown common rope. She smiled and offered him her hands, wrists crossed together in front of her. "You had this planned."
He took her hands and raised her to a kneeling position, brushing the auburn hair from her face. Then he was around behind her. "Amber. Give me your hands behind your back."
Her breath caught again. Even tied, with her hands in front of her she would not feel totally helpless - she could always cover her breasts, even push him away if she felt the need to. And the little voice deep in her head said that even though he was making her flesh feel a way that was wonderful and dark and strangely right, that she was still going to be made helpless and any means she had of still maintaining a little control would be lost if she let him tie her hands behind her.
And as that little voice spoke up, injecting a little cool trickle of water over the fire that was building inside her, he brought both her arms behind her, wrapping the first coil of rope about her wrists. She focused on the bubbling spring nearby as she passively knelt there on the cool damp ground, a pool of red silk about her hips, her full breasts bare and free. And behind her, she felt the first coil of rope drawing both wrists together, now made inseparable by the thin bond. And then another loop was added to the first and another, until the bond was a thick band that crushed the skin between her hands snuggly. She couldn't pull her wrists apart now if she tried and her arms felt strangely like one limb.
But he continued, wrapping the rope higher, looping a coil about her elbows and drawing her arms closer and closer together behind her until, with one last tug, her elbows touched and she grunted sharply as her shoulders were pulled back and her breasts thrust out obscenely in front of her. Then, with equal attention, he tugged and pulled and re-knotted the rope, from the coils at her elbows to her wrists, somehow making everything even tighter. When he was done he kissed her neck from behind and she closed her eyes, balling her hands and frantically trying to break free of the rope that held them painfully behind her back.
She was caught. Helpless and vulnerable. The arms that came around and enfolded her from behind, hands finding her straining breasts, fingers pinching her hard and sensitive nipples belonged to her captor. She wondered how much was play and how much real - she was at his mercy entirely.
The lips on her neck bit into her flesh sharply and her moan was loud enough to cause the birds in the trees to pause their endless talk. At the same time, his fingers crushed her nipples. But there was nowhere for her to go. Kneeling, tied, held in place by his arms, she was nothing but a body to be tormented, played with, owned.
He gave her one last kiss on the neck, over the angry bite mark and stood behind her, hand on the top of her head. Her heart was thundering in her chest as he firmly pushed her head down into a bowed position. Eyes wide open, head bowed, tied, she succumbed to the rush of feelings that slammed into her. Before, when she had looked on the slaves in the village, she wondered what they could be thinking. Their life was so simple - all they had to do was submit. They had no freedom, no responsibilities. Whatever reasons that had caused them to enter into slavery were long gone - taxes owed, payment for debt, even shedding your clothes outside of your own home and property - all reasons for being claimed as a slave. All long gone. Only a future of servitude and mindlessly doing another's bidding lay ahead. A blank existence.
But as she studied the ground before her, on her knees, what was in her head wasn't blankness. It was a delicious helplessness, full awareness that her body could be pleasured or hurt, that she could be made to do anything now and not be able to say no. With her hands lost, Slone could gag her, rendering her speechless. Or, were she really his slave, he could simply order her to silence, and then everything she wanted to say would go unsaid - her thoughts would be trapped inside her, just as her body was trapped now. Even without restraints, were she really his slave, he could order her to stand over an anthill motionless for hours and unable to do anything about the little bites but endure, kneel on all fours as her ass was mercilessly paddled, or taken to a den of lovers and made to service them all. It was a realization of helplessness. Of surrender.
And, as the ropes bit into the now throbbing flesh of her arms, as she was made plainly aware of her submission, she felt more alive than ever. What if this were real? What if there really was no turning back? She felt a building wave of something, so strong it was causing her stomach to contract almost painfully, her mind to spin, her nipples and clit and every place she'd felt with her own fingers late in the night and found to give her pleasure - all that was helpless to stop the sense of the overwhelming beast that was whispering to her with growing power.
He was standing before her now, gently laying her on her back again and she barely noticed. Even the pain of lying on tightly bound arms, her hands crushed under her butt, was lost on her. She was in the middle of a hurricane, the rain of submission blinding her eyes and pelting her skin, the beast within tearing at her belly - there was no escape, now, not for her. She was tied and a slave, and even if it wasn't real, even if she would soon be released, she was still his, at this moment, and there was nothing she could do about it.
He pulled the last of the silk off her hips and now the cool breeze from the spring that dampened and cooled the ground caressed her naked body. Eyes closed, she thrashed her head from side to side.
"No," she moaned. Something was wrong, something was not right. What was it? This was play, and he was very likely going to play with her and then enter her - her first time - and she would lay back and allow him. No. She was going to submit to him, give him her body even though he'd taken it with his ropes. What could be wrong, when the beast was getting so close, its power now beginning to crash into her flesh - not the full force of it, not yet? But it was coming. Coming with a fury.
