Wares
by Peter Loaf

The King of France is not the man to forgive those who “deprive” Him. He is, therefore, provided with everything a man could want. The men of his court make it their business to see that He never wants for anything, be it the finest foods, wines, clothing or young women.

He likes slave women best, provided they are still virgin and in somewhat unbroken spirit when they are brought to Him. He likes to play elaborate bondage games with them, publicly humiliating them before deflowering them in private.

It costs the Kingdom a fortune to keep His Jewish agents posted in the Islamic capitals but the results are worth it. There has been a steady flow of high quality slave girls for the last several years.

As the third crusade is collapsing, two freshly captured young Christian sisters come into the slave market in Acre. The King’s agent there first determines their virginity and spirit, then buys them on the spot, despite the fact that the slave seller is demanding four times the going price.

* * *

When the agent brings them before the king they are hooded, cloaked and bound. Rene’s hands are tied together in front. Beebe’s, because she has given her guards a little trouble, are lashed together behind her back.

In the months they have been traveling, the agent has taught them everything they need to know. They now know that they must not look any man in the face. They also know that obedience is their only salvation. They have been ordered to not to speak, even to each other. They have known the pain of the lash, but they have not yet broken in spirit.

To shield their naked bodies from both the eyes of men and the effects of the desert sun they have traveled all this way in heavy hooded cloaks . . . with the result that their skins are now milky white, with a tendancy to blush. Beneath the cloaks today they have been washed, perfumed, shaved and rouged at both nipples and labia.

The King rises from His throne and comes to inspect His new possessions. The agent forces Beebe to mount a small table, the better to display his wares. He waits a heartbeat then removes her floor-length cloak, exposing her nude helplessness. The King’s eyes focus upon her shaved and naked pubes, sniffing the air like an amorous dog.

Her face blushes, the pinkness spreading down almost to her tight virginal nipples. He sees a dewdrop forming on her naked sex and knows that her body is getting itself ready for rape.

“Lift her leg out to the side.” He orders the man holding her wrist leash.

The big man reaches down, and gripping her right ankle, lifts it out to one side, spreading Beebe’s legs to nearly 120 degrees. The King’s fingers come and touch, finding out for himself if Beebe is qualified for the attention she is about to get. Finding her hymen intact, he orders, “String her up like that by looping her wrist rope through the hanging ring then tying it down to her ankle.” Glancing over His shoulder at Rene, he orders, “Hang her up where she can watch. We’ll do her next.”

His orders are carried out, then the men step back, leaving the naked young women posed in helpless distress. Beebe is up on the table, the toes of one foot supporting most of her weight. Her wracked arms and roped ankle supporting the rest.

Rene is also naked, hanged by her wrists and swinging below another of the hall’s chandelier chains. There are ropes that stretch her ankles out to the side, forcing a wide and inviting splits on her. Both are in agony, both are hot and helpless.

The King bends down and loudly sniffs Beebe’s crotch, His nose an inch from her moist opening.

His hand slips up the back of her calf, caressing, inciting, inflaming her senses. Passing His hand up over the back of her knee, He continues up the back of her quivering thigh, until his hard calloused thumb finds her now fully erect clitoris. Gently rubbing this nerve-filled button, He further incites her libido, making the blush begin rising from her newly shaved pubes to meet the blush descending from her face.

She hears a strange cry coming from her own throat and knows that it is the first note of her swan song. She tries to hold out but he places a heavy bell-clamp on one of her nipples and lets the other nipple clamp swing on the end of its connecting chain.

She feels him spanking her pussy, the shock of each impact making the nipple bells dance, ring and, especially, hurt.

She screams out in panic as she feels herself losing bladder control. Her hot yellow stream spurts and squirts then flows unobstructed, splashing the tablecloth and flagstones below where she hangs. She feels the bite of a riding crop whistling in to mark the virgin white canvas of her naked ass.

He whispers into her crimson ear, “You will show Us your passion, show the court, show God Himself.” He pins her clitoris to her hip bone with His thumb and slides two long fingers into her rectum, forcing another scream from her. He is holding her like a bowling ball, lifting her toes from the table, shaking her naked body to make the bells jingle and dance. He spins her around and takes her unclamped nipple between His teeth. He growls and bites down hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, froth to her pussy.

He lets go of her and allows her to swing. Before she can find her footing he kicks away her support table, leaving only the ropes to support her. He captures her kicking foot and ties it down to a ring in the flagstones. He slices his crop across the back of her thigh, marking her with a tiger stripe that matches the ones on her bottom. He crop spanks her sphincter, then smears her pussy froth up over it, lubricating it for His use.

He spins her around, lines Himself up, spits on His member and drives His big organ up into her colon, forcing yet another scream from her throat.

Still a vaginal virgin, Beebe feels his meaty organ packing her pooper. She wonders if vaginal sex will feel even better. It doesn’t seem possible.

Behind Beebe’s back, we see Rene hanging spread eagle, a fixture on display, waiting for the king’s pleasure. Below her the dust has turned to mud in one still growing spot. Her labia have opened out like a rose, her hymen sealed pussy is dripping with fuck me froth.

When the King comes He comes like a conquistador, thrusting and taking, caring nothing for her needs. This seems only right to the hanging girl, who is deep inside her submissive shelter. Then He withdraws his shit stained organ and walks over to stand behind Rene. She is at the perfect height for butt fucking. He stands behind her for several seconds then grins. “I shall do something special with this one.” He says to the gathered drunken nobles. Who whistle, shout and applaud encouragingly.

In a very few eyes we see hard thinking, as if a terrible resolve has just been reached.

Pulling two thin sticks and a leather bootlace from somewhere in his robes, He kneels below Rene and begins to fiddle with her swollen labia. Soon He is trying the two sticks into a pussy closing vice, protecting her hymen while stimulating her rock hard clitoris. Next he applies two more stick vices to her nipples, forcing the first moan from her. It is only when the stick vices are turned 90 degrees and tied together that she screams.

Satisfied, the King turns to His Major Domo and says, “Barron Frank, may I offer you the next dance?” gesturing toward the panting girl.

The big man stagers to his feet. When he disrobes he reveals a cock half again as big as the King’s. He spits into his hand and strokes himself, bringing himself to full erection. Rene feels the huge head of the Barron’s cock stretching her anus. “Its Too BIG!” she screams, her very first words since entering the palace. She speaks High French, the native tongue of the Court.

Glances are exchanged, several more eyes harden with resolve.

The King places a restraining hand on the Barron’s arm. He walks around to face Rene, as if just realizing she is a human being. “You are French women?”

Rene nods, her hanging body on fire, hope welling up in her expressive eyes.

The King turns to look at the agent. “French women? Didn’t I tell you they must not be French?”

The Agent steps back in the face of his employer’s rage. “But Sire, look at them! They are twin perfections!” pleads the agent. “I know what you like and these are it!”

Turning back to Rene the King says, “Who are you? Who is your father?”

“Our father is standing in front of you, with a sword in his hand.” Says Beebe, from behind him.

The Baron goes for his sword but is too late as her father, the captain of the King’s bodyguard, runs him through.

The King stands naked and alone, a ring of sharp steel cutting off His prerogatives. Those few of his nobles who remain loyal are disarmed and herded down to one end of the hall.

This night’s entertainment is going to include a few beheadings.

The next day the new King releases the girls the old King has enslaved. Some of them can still walk.

The Jewish agent who caused the King’s downfall escaped, leaving France under a sane monarch for a change.

Wares

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