Youth: Testing the Ties That Bind

Atla's tongue flicked animatedly over the succulent peaks and valleys of Jorah's warm, flush-darkened intimate folds, extracting another mewling whimper from Jorah's red, pouty mouth. Jorah's head tossed in a side-to-side frenzy, mussing the hair her aides had so carefully washed, combed, and bound up earlier, and her blindfold threatened to slip away.

"Shh, little kitten, don't wake the Beast just yet," Atla whispered coyly, her breath tickling the engorged, glistening pearl, the cool draft of it unhooding it from it's pink shroud. "Tha-at's a girl," she chuckled softly at Jorah's unfolded, messy sex, and dove back into it with her wet, darting tongue.

It was Jorah's Breaking Day, a most special day amongst the RiverWomen. It was the eighteenth anniversary of her birthing-day, and Atla was preparing Jorah's washed, shorn, silky body for it's first encounter with a man. The breaking was, of course, accomplished when a man's engorged penis penetrated the membranous caul of an un- fucked girl's newly-ready crevice. It was usually painful... but whether or not it was pleasurable was entirely up to the new initiate.

"Oh- OOOHHH, Please, Atla, I want to come so badly!" Jorah whisperingly pleaded, even though her aides had warned her that speech on her part was strictly forbidden. Men didn't want conversation when they slipped themselves into the sweet-smelling, soft depths of a woman- they only wanted what pleasure those hard insistent rods could milk from a docile body, and then withdraw their slimy, spent sleeves of meat to seek out the next one.

A flat-handed slap against Jorah's insistent clit made her yelp and jolt against her leather binds. "OW!" she cried, tears seeping out from beneath her blindfold at the warm blushing sting her vulva glowed with now. Atla, disgusted, dropped the sheer white shroud between Jorah's legs, hiding her arousal-and pain- from view.

"You're a silly little fool. You aren't ready to receive a man," she spat, giving Jorah's hard, pink nipple a rough twist, and enjoying it when Jorah cried out again. "You want to sing? I'll make you sing," Atla hissed in Jorah's ear as she snapped her fingers. Four hooded, anonymous figures in ghostly white robes emerged and efficiently turned the protesting, thrashing Jorah over, fitting a hard, leather- covered wedge beneath her hips and stomach, and then re-tied her, slipping a leather gag into her mouth. One smeared the firm, pale apples of her backside with an spicy, aromatic unguent, and then slid a greasy finger into her puckered brown flower, eliciting a shriek from Jorah.

"Alta will tell you when you can and can not make noise," Alta said, spreading her legs a shoulder's width apart. The assistants disrobed her, and were affixing a peculiar leather-studded harness around her waist, the straps encircling her hard buttocks and sculpted thighs. When finished, a semi-hard, pliable kidskin phallus dangled at half- mast before her.

With pleasure, Alta walked around and ripped the blindfold off of Jorah's face, then proceeded to smear the head of her new cock with the same greasy ginger conoction that the others had applied to Jorah's protesting, now-rosy flesh. Eye-level with it, Jorah's eyes widened, and she gasped from around her gag, testing the strength of her restraints, her helpless little ass forced into mid-air by the elevation cushion beneath her.

"I might not Break you," Atla chuckled, giving Jorah's cheek a meaty slap with her greasy shaft, before climbing up behind her and spreading her cheeks wide, "but you can bet I know how to soften you up unlike any man you'll ever take into you!" she sang as she eased the smooth head of the shaft against the puckered resistance of Jorah's reticent sphincter. Suddenly, the blindfold was replaced over Jorah's eyes, and the whimper crescendoed into a muffled shriek as Atla's fostered hardness began softening Jorah's asshole.

"If you think *this* is bad... just be grateful I'm not after the rest of you," Atla giggled, caressing Jorah's sweaty back with a sinister, possessive touch that was between mocking, between loving, then dug one hand's nails into the soft, fleshy cheek of Jorah's ass, the other giving it a slap to raise a hot welt. "You wouldn't walk for a week!"

*********

An hour later, Atla reclined on the cushions of her bed, naked, tired, and grinning with satisfaction as she gently toweled the smutty muck of Jorah's plundered anus from her dong. 'Such a feisty little thing she was!' Atla thought of Jorah as she put the harness and staff on the small table next to her bed, then stretched out and yawned. Showing these new girls the ropes could be quite tiring, even if it was satisfying. With every plundering stab into Jorah's trembling hindquarters, Atla felt a zing of pleasure straight through to her core. Jorah's muffled squeaks and cries of protest had only excited Atla more so that by the time Jorah had collapsed in a hoarse, mute, trussed-up lump beneath Atla, Atla's thighs were musky and soaked with her own juices. She'd lovingly whispered into Jorah's ear, "You lovely little toy, making your teacher come so easily! I shall make *you* my special pet when you are Broken!" and trailed a scintillating rain of kisses down Jorah's salty, glistening neck and back before withdrawing from her completely-dilated, relaxed rump.

Just thinking of the way Jorah had sobbed, great strings of drool and tears and snot soaking her pillow and streaking her pretty young face, her body spasming and bucking against the embedded shaft brushing Atla's own hard nub made Atla's hand trace lazily down her stomach and gently circle the puffy mound of scant fringe, then lower to the soft, slack lips of her crevice, then bring a finger up to taste her own salty-sweet fervor that pulsed still within her. Soon, her fingers were circling her hungry gash and she was moaning softly, then a servant entered silently.

"Atla, I heard you from outside... are you in need of our Services?" the young woman queried , searching the sinewy, pearline form of Atla the Red reclined and petting herself tenderly.

Breathlessly, Atla rose on an elbow, and with a hand damp with sex, she pushed back a coppery strand of hair from her face and smiled. "Oh- was I that conspicuous?" she purred. "Well, if you feel so inclined," she bit her lip and swiveled her slender legs over the edge of the bed. "You may give me a kiss," she parted her legs, revealing a crimson-flushed, swollen vulva already gleaming with a thin film of Atla's smeared excitement, "Here," she parted her labia with two fingers of one hand, circling her jutty nipple with the other.

"Yes, Madam, Zelna would be honored and eager to do so," the woman smiled and tied her long brown ringlets into a knot at the back of her neck. She removed from the underside of Atla's bed a small velvet rectangle, a cushion, and knelt on it so her knees wouldn't fatigue. With both hands, Zelna gently parted the soft thighs of her Mistress, and opened her mouth, leaning in. She spread her tongue as flat and wide as she could, and as she laid it over Atla's closed pink clamshell, she stroked it broadly up from the other hole all the way to the top of her woman's cleft, savoring the scent and flavor of her provider, her ruler. Zelna, or any of the other women of the Camp would have gladly done this- or anything else Atla would have requested of them out of love, out of duty, out of requirement. Atla was their leader, their guardian, their superior, and any time she requested pleasure of them, they also received pleasure as a reward.

"Mmm," Atla purred, flexing her hips so that her heels found the smooth hardwood floor, but she was still reclined on the bed. "Taste that? It means it likes you," she smiled languourously up at the gauzy canopy, then closed her eyes to let Zelna please her. Zelna licked Atla's moist, warm slit from bottom to top, top to bottom, and then gently suckled each of the folds in turn. When they were moist with saliva, Zelna's thumbs gently peeled apart and unfurled Atla's petals, the way a sun's warm rays unfold an orchid's tight, dew- drenched bud. Jutting from the warm, soft center of Atla's core lay the hooded, hard pink bundle of flesh that was so worshipped by their people. "Yes," Atla breathed, "Breathe life to it, coax it out." She moaned as Zelna blew gently, tentatively upon the hard nub as though trying to spark kindling into a warm fire. Success! The turgid little clit unhooded slowly, and when it was erect, Zelna's tongue eagerly hugged, encircled, and tasted it's feverish rigidity, her chin dampening as Atla hissed and thrust forward, pressing the outer rim of her well into Zelna's face.

"That's a good Zelna," Atla coaxed, one hand reaching down to unbind and stroke Zelna's soft chocolate locks. Zelna smiled quickly, but went immediately back to work- if it could be called work. One hand held Atla open at the top, while the other was beneath her skirt, now caressing her own soft, unshorn mons, a finger occasionally dabbing into her eager well as she licked and sucked Atla's sacred heat.

Zelna quickened the pace of her nursing on Atla's clit, and inserted a finger slick with Zelna's own juices into Atla's cavern at just the right time. Atla moaned and rose on one elbow, her fingers tangling themselves in Zelna's hair. "Ooh, sly little fox," Atla cooed softly, rocking into Zelna's finger-fucking. "Give me another," she demanded breathlessly, and Zelna acquiesced, slipping a second finger inside her mistress's beautiful well of life and pleasure.

As Atla rocked and tossed, the fervor of Zelna's finger-thrusts and tongue-lashing increased. She seized Atla's quivering pearl in her teeth and with a humming growl, gave it a gentle tug and shake. Atla's toes curled and her thighs collapsed tightly around Zelna's face, but Zelna kept on, sliding a third finger into the silky pucker of Atla's ass, pleasuring all three nethersources at once, harder, faster... until suddenly, the coiled, hard tension in Atla's lean, ivory body exploded, soaking Zelna's tongue and fingers, but finally after one raw, trembling shudder, Zelna could breathe and rest.

As Atla's body rippled and rode the intoxicating peak of bliss out, Zelna sat back on her haunches, licking her fingers and face as clean as she could, and then she finished herself off quietly. As she brought her fingers to her mouth, Atla's hand gently siezed her wrist. "No, Treasure- let me," Atla said softly, drawing Zelna close and planting a velvet kiss upon her beautiful, artful mouth, and then suckling Zelna's honey from her fingers. "Undress yourself- Come lie with me, Come lie on your Keeper's bed," she whispered, and the young girl acquiesced gracefully, slipping out of her customary soft shift, and lowering herself onto her back so that Atla could wrap her arms around her, pulling her close as though wanting to take her into herself, and just holding her for a moment. Her fingers traced through Zelna's hair and she nuzzled her neck, touched Zelna's sticky mound, and brushed her soft, young breasts as lovingly as though she were fondling a new doll. Zelna moaned softly, but didn't speak. "You pretty thing... I want you," Atla groaned as her fingers traced Zelna's crevices hungrily.

"Is Mistress un-satisfied? Did I do something wrong?" Zelna dared whisper, fear creeping into her voice, tensing her round, soft brown body. Atla raised up onto an elbow and looked down at Zelna in alarm. "Oh- No! Noo," she cooed, sliding one of her silken legs in between Zelna's, and gently pulling Zelna up to sit. Her breasts grazed Zelna's, and their soft bodies pressed together. Zelna gasped and, in spite of her training, leaned into Atla's warmth.

"I'm just hungry today, Treasure," Atla explained quietly. "These young and untrained girls are so stubborn- they vex me so, but it's not your fault, you were always obedient and docile- except when I needed you to be otherwise," she breathed, tasting Zelna's sweet red lips, nibbling her chin, flicking her tongue down the smooth skin to the hollow of Zelna's throat. "You're so young and beautiful," Atla sighed. "I think I want you now," and with that, Atla curved her hips into Zelna's, their folds together. Zelna moaned and rocked into Atla just as Atla thrusted breathlessly against her young lover, their legs wrapped around each other's waists, in each other's embracing arms, kissing, sighing, occasionally crying out until finally, both Zelna and Atla achieved a thrilling pinnacle of giddy, swimming excitement simultaneously, and then collapsed, still interlocked, panting and moist. The cloying aroma of their pleasure wafted in the air just as the gauzy canopy and bedcurtains did in the breeze from the open window.

"You're one of my favorites," Atla murmured sleepily. "Now go, make yourself clean and pretty again- I will let you pick a man to keep for the night," she smiled, withdrawing her arms gently, already drowsy from her day's work-and play.

*******

"You only got what you deserved," said the girl on Jorah's right arm. The other wasn't so kind or patronizing. "Stupid twit! Disobeying X'Atla da Riaztnan!"

Jorah limped mutely along until they reached the Recovery Quarters, and the door opened. She was shoved inside and the door closed and bolted behind her, the voices now fading down the corridor: "Can you believe that? Demanding her pleasure from our Keeper like that!"... "It's a wonder she can walk without her guts falling out," then laughter. Jorah groaned and sat down, then yelped and stood quickly. Her sweet, young buttocks had not only been penetrated ruthlessly by Blessed Atla of the RiverWomen, Leader of the River Camp, but then, after working herself into a frenzy, Atla had ordered Jorah's ginger-smeared, well-fucked ass to be switched with a peeled willow wand, and then salted. Then, insult to injury, she'd been forced to stroke her fingers in and out of her swollen, feverish tortured hole, and lick them.

"You dishonored Atla, and your poor, childish behavior has shamed yourself. Consider yourself lucky that you are even being Broken tonight still!" Atla had cautioned smoothly, stroking the sobbing, convulsing girl's sweaty, tangled hair as she lay prostrate, clinging to the hard pillow that had held her hips elevated for Atla's deep, merciless penetration.

Oh, but it hurt so badly! Jorah gingerly lay down across the padded cot that served as a resting place, one normally reserved for the leisurely, blissful afterglow of being Favored by Atla. Atla was the Overseer of the Breaking process on all of the RiverWomen's female children-turning-women, and she took it very seriously. If a girl couldn't learn to obey a few simple cues from another woman, how ever would they be an obedient, intelligent breeding partner for one of the WoodMen, Keepers of the Forest?

Jorah gingerly spread her legs and felt her puckered ring. It was still hot and swollen, but not stretched nearly as bad as it was. Tentatively, she traced her fingers over her lower-lips, and gasped- they were wet! Eyes wide, she reached for a hand-mirror, and peered at the reflection. There lay the neat, completely-bare two lips of her tender opening, but clinging near the bottom was a gummy, whitish bead of something sticky and spicy-smelling.

A hot flush of shame crept up from her breasts to her forehead. Jorah had taken pleasure from being punished so harshly and deservedly by Atla. It was hard to believe, even for herself, though... she had cried, sobbed, even gagged on her own agony and shameful torture. She'd bucked, fought.. even tried to bite her captors- and yet, this gooey pearl she now smeared between her fingers, had been evidence that at least her body had responded to Atla's ass-pumping furor of discipline.

Oh, but Atla had penetrated her so deeply- her stomach gave a funny quiver as though it, too, remembered Atla's dumbcock pulsing a steady rhythm in and out of Jorah's slick haunches, in time to Atla's practiced, determined breathing. Atla had enjoyed Training Jorah as much as Jorah had enjoyed receiving it- what was the big deal? She had only wanted the end pleasure- the highest pleasure... just like everyone else. Why should she have to wait, to learn to stave off the roiling in her belly as her insides contracted and pulsed in response to accepting an invasive thrill?

Patience. That's what it all boiled down to. Sharing wasn't the problem- Jorah would never begrudge someone their right to pleasure... but waiting for them to feel it- that, Atla had seen, would be the problem. If Jorah achieved her orgasm quickly, and before her eventual male (or female) lover did, she would be undesirable in the sheets, and would therefore be good only for cooking and cleaning. A useful statue- pretty, but not worth keeping the bed warm.

Jorah gingerly washed her hair and body, and bathed her punished ring and un-touched crevice, then stretched out onto her stomach to re- hash the day yet again.

As was customary, when the sun rose, she felt a blindfold over her eyes, and she was escorted to the Secret Place around Rock Bend, where all girls were Broken. The clean, bright atmosphere of the shelters were relaxing and inviting, and as she was washed, her hair cleaned and bound, and her soft muff shorn until just a small dusting of hair denoting her age passage remained, she was then put onto the Training Stock- a bed made just for introducing a nervous, untouched girl to some of the pleasures she might expect from coupling with a lover later in the day, after the Feast. The table had cuffs, a waist belt, and various leg-ties, and could be elevated at several angles to several varying heights as Atla would oversee teaching Jorah and other girls what it was to kiss, suckle, lick, nibble, touch, and even, eventually penetrate orifices throughout intercourse.

Originally, there'd been no problems. Jorah's initial training had went well. Her lips were full and when accentuated with the sweet red stain of berry juice, looked achingly enticing and savory. Atla had taught her how to kiss her lover without bruising the mouth, clanging each other's teeth together, and how to gently part and enter a lover's mouth with the tongue without gushing spittle into each other's mouths. Jorah had been allowed to nibble and suckle at Atla's firm round breasts and nipples as the woman strided Jorah, grinding her hips gently into the girl's soft belly. Jorah had teased and been teased, played and been played with, until it had come time for her to be introduced to the inviting mysteries of her beautiful, tight, newly-bared slit, her center of pleasure. Greedy Jorah had simply wanted all she could manage to take, and as quickly as she could take it.

To Jorah's shame, Atla had given her that- and then some- until she was shamed, battered, swollen and sore.

Finally, exhaustion stole Jorah's waking lucidity from her. Her eyes closed, her body relaxed, and the soft breeze from the river gently caressed her pain-striped flesh. She was asleep when they came for her.

(Pending review, to be continued.)