Captive by Aishling Morgan Page B

said quickly. ‘A mule rather than a donkey, available at only two crowns although not in this saloon. We find the dung ruins the rugs.’
    ‘Another time perhaps,’ Grathor answered, ‘for now I’m eager to get her warm. Climb on girl, I want to spend before the dresses are delivered.’
    Aisla was lost in a welter of embarrassment, at the wet state of her sex, at their attention to her body, at the casual way they had suggested she perform the most obscene of acts with the mule. Acting mechanically, she threw a leg across the bench, settled her bottom onto it and eased herself backward until the broad head of the dildo nudged between her buttocks.
    ‘Not up your arse, in your cunt!’ Grathor exclaimed.
    ‘Sorry… I…,’ Aisla stammered, blushing hotter still, wanting to make an angry denial of wanting the dildo up her bottom but knowing they would only laugh at her.
    She moved, lifting her bottom until the dildo head was at the mouth of her vagina, then sliding slowly down onto it until her tuppenny met the rough bulge of the ball sack. With the dildo fully up her the balls were pushed firmly to her clitoris and she knew that when she began to buck and squirm under the beating she would bring herself off, just as the Hai girl had been doing when they came in.
    ‘Good girl,’ Grathor remarked as Aisla settled her body onto the dildo. Now, hands behind you back, I feel, it would be a shame to deprive our audience of a proper view of those magnificent titties.’
    Aisla obeyed, putting her arms behind her. Grathor caught her wrists and held them while the assistant lashed them together. Her ankles followed, strapped to the legs of the bench to leave her utterly helpless. As she had expected, her wrists were attached to the rope in the ceiling ring and her arms pulled high up, forcing her to bend her back. A collar was fixed around her neck and a strap around her waist, leaving her breasts pushed out at the front. With her bondage complete she found herself unable to do more than wiggle her hips and shoulders, while her bottom and breasts were flaunted blatantly at the audience.
    ‘Excellent, ‘ the clerk declared, ‘a fine position for a tall girl as it makes the most of her flexibility. What can I offer you, sir, cane, dog-whip, spanking paddle? We have a fine selection of anal stimulants if you are thinking of buggering her.’
    ‘A dog-whip for now,’ Grathor answered, ‘as to the buggery, I’ve not had her in her ring yet, so perhaps I will.’
    Aisla felt a fresh pang of shame and shock, not so much at the news that she was to be buggered, something most men seemed to expect of her, but at the casual way he said it and that it was to be done so publicly. The clerk had gone to a cupboard and opened it, revealing a selection of whips, single thongs of braided leather with stings at their tips and carved handles. He took one and handed it to Grathor who gave an appreciative nod and, without warning, brought it down full across the naked spheres of Aisla’s bottom.
    She yelped and went tight in her bonds, then squealed out a complaint, only to have another cut applied, yet harder. Several of the audience laughed at her reaction, including the girl who had paid to be beaten and was now too sore behind to sit comfortably. Grathor applied the whip a third time, then a fourth, making Aisla cry and jerk with each stroke as her bottom filled with a fiery pain. The dildo plugging her vagina moved in her as she did, making her fuck herself as she was whipped.
    Grathor ignored her pleading cries, applying the whip with firm, regular blows, until at last the stinging pain started to subside and her bottom began to warm to the beating. It felt huge, a fat ball of tortured flesh sticking out behind her, the cheeks spread and all her most intimate secrets on show. The onlookers kept up a conversation as it happened, remarking on the precision of the blows, the ready state of her sex and the way she moved on the dildo,