size, so I fit quite nicely. Of course, I was also trapped, but I figured night would be the best time for my escape. All I needed was to remain undetected until then.
I hate waiting, Fortuna.
Chapter 4
I found myself drifting as I waited. The damp earth was cooler in the cellar, and my skin prickled with the strange temperature. I leaned against the wall and shivered. I couldn't smell much of the preserved foods in jars, nor could I see what they were through the opaque clay, but I could smell the loose food in barrels, the onions and potatoes, the carrots and apples, the oranges and pears, dried berries, jerky, and salted meats. It was enough to remind me that I hadn't eaten since the morning. Still, I dared not move. No one had seen me duck into the cellar, but I still had to escape detection when someone came down for food for supper. Inspiration struck, and I wiggled out to find a loose sack. There, Fortuna. Now I'm a bag of rice tucked in the corner. It wasn't the best of disguises, but it was better than nothing.
The day dragged by. Every so often I would hear shouts or raised voices, but no one thought to check the cellar. Thank you (for once), Fortuna.
As the light began to fade, the door banged open, and I heard footsteps descending, then a giggle.
“Not here, sir. What would Lauren say?”
“Lauren will say, Nanette, what took you so long? If you don't hurry up, you'll get a spanking .”
She gasped. “No, sir, please, I'm so sore.”
There was a grunt and a sharp intake of breath, then a soft fumbling sound.
“Then be a good little slave and open up for me.”
“Yes, sir!” Another grunt slid into a moan. “Please, sir!”
“Please, what, little slave? Fuck your asshole?”
“Oh, yes, sir, just please, oh!”
There was a breathy, panting, rhythmic sigh. I felt my own cunt start to ripen and drip. Gods, how long has it been, Fortuna? Way too long. I need a man as of last week.
“Good girl, Nanette.”
She whimpered, and my cunt clenched. Fortuna, you are a tease! I wondered how obvious it would be if I pressed fingers to my aching clit. Hmmm. Probably best not to move at all. If something I did interrupted their fucking, thwarted desire was a sure-fire way to get the harshest sentence available. So I remained stone still, barely breathing, listening to the soft slap of his hips on her ass and the rapidity of her breath. I could just imagine the picture. I couldn't help it; I peeked.
It was glorious. Her big breasts were spilling out of the loose fabric of her dress, and her creamy ass was spread and gripped in his rough, tanned hands. She held onto a sturdy shelf in the corner, her eyes closed and her unevenly chopped blonde hair flopping with each thrust. She moaned, her back arched and her cunt unsuccessfully pressed towards him for greater pleasure. His overalls were tangled around his boots, and his chest was broad, muscular, and incredibly yummy. Fortuna, if you have the chance, would you mind delivering that one to my bed? I bit my lip at the sight of his cock ramming into her little asshole, and clamped down on a shudder. I could smell her arousal. But he didn't let her come.
What a jerk, Fortuna! Instead, when he finished grunting and spending inside her, he pulled out and washed with a cloth he must have brought with him. He wiped her off, then pulled her up to standing.
“Good little slave. I enjoyed that. If you do well helping Lauren this evening, you'll get more tonight.”
His face was so stern and handsome, I wanted to bite him, but hers was soft and lush. She had wide eyes with trembling lashes, and soft lips that ached to be kissed. I hummed sub-vocally.
He didn't kiss her. He turned and left, leaving her to pull herself back together both physically—oh, Fortuna, would you look at those breasts?—and mentally. She seemed disconcerted, off balance. Then she took a deep breath and began to gather the jars and loose items she must have been
I hate waiting, Fortuna.
Chapter 4
I found myself drifting as I waited. The damp earth was cooler in the cellar, and my skin prickled with the strange temperature. I leaned against the wall and shivered. I couldn't smell much of the preserved foods in jars, nor could I see what they were through the opaque clay, but I could smell the loose food in barrels, the onions and potatoes, the carrots and apples, the oranges and pears, dried berries, jerky, and salted meats. It was enough to remind me that I hadn't eaten since the morning. Still, I dared not move. No one had seen me duck into the cellar, but I still had to escape detection when someone came down for food for supper. Inspiration struck, and I wiggled out to find a loose sack. There, Fortuna. Now I'm a bag of rice tucked in the corner. It wasn't the best of disguises, but it was better than nothing.
The day dragged by. Every so often I would hear shouts or raised voices, but no one thought to check the cellar. Thank you (for once), Fortuna.
As the light began to fade, the door banged open, and I heard footsteps descending, then a giggle.
“Not here, sir. What would Lauren say?”
“Lauren will say, Nanette, what took you so long? If you don't hurry up, you'll get a spanking .”
She gasped. “No, sir, please, I'm so sore.”
There was a grunt and a sharp intake of breath, then a soft fumbling sound.
“Then be a good little slave and open up for me.”
“Yes, sir!” Another grunt slid into a moan. “Please, sir!”
“Please, what, little slave? Fuck your asshole?”
“Oh, yes, sir, just please, oh!”
There was a breathy, panting, rhythmic sigh. I felt my own cunt start to ripen and drip. Gods, how long has it been, Fortuna? Way too long. I need a man as of last week.
“Good girl, Nanette.”
She whimpered, and my cunt clenched. Fortuna, you are a tease! I wondered how obvious it would be if I pressed fingers to my aching clit. Hmmm. Probably best not to move at all. If something I did interrupted their fucking, thwarted desire was a sure-fire way to get the harshest sentence available. So I remained stone still, barely breathing, listening to the soft slap of his hips on her ass and the rapidity of her breath. I could just imagine the picture. I couldn't help it; I peeked.
It was glorious. Her big breasts were spilling out of the loose fabric of her dress, and her creamy ass was spread and gripped in his rough, tanned hands. She held onto a sturdy shelf in the corner, her eyes closed and her unevenly chopped blonde hair flopping with each thrust. She moaned, her back arched and her cunt unsuccessfully pressed towards him for greater pleasure. His overalls were tangled around his boots, and his chest was broad, muscular, and incredibly yummy. Fortuna, if you have the chance, would you mind delivering that one to my bed? I bit my lip at the sight of his cock ramming into her little asshole, and clamped down on a shudder. I could smell her arousal. But he didn't let her come.
What a jerk, Fortuna! Instead, when he finished grunting and spending inside her, he pulled out and washed with a cloth he must have brought with him. He wiped her off, then pulled her up to standing.
“Good little slave. I enjoyed that. If you do well helping Lauren this evening, you'll get more tonight.”
His face was so stern and handsome, I wanted to bite him, but hers was soft and lush. She had wide eyes with trembling lashes, and soft lips that ached to be kissed. I hummed sub-vocally.
He didn't kiss her. He turned and left, leaving her to pull herself back together both physically—oh, Fortuna, would you look at those breasts?—and mentally. She seemed disconcerted, off balance. Then she took a deep breath and began to gather the jars and loose items she must have been
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