Amara the

Why had the gods done this to you? You ask yourself for the thousandth time today. Gazing into the oppressive darkness of your cell, you mind is drawn back to a different time less than six months ago. It was a pleasant day when you, three of your maids, and five of your most trusted guards went for a ride out to look at some of your family's Vineyards on the outskirts of the city. All of a sudden, the screams of you maids mixed with the sickening thuds of arrows as they rained down onto your guards. When Petroculus, your mother's chief guardsmen, rode between you and the attackers you felt safe only to fall into darkness when something hit you from behind.

   Maybe it was the sin of pride, maybe that is why you and your mother couldn’t see the snake you took into the bosom of your house.  

Many times since then, though thankfully not as often now, you wished they’d killed you - especially that first night as the arguing voices slowly drew you from the blessed blackness of unconsciousness.  

 

 The first thing you remember noticing was the dampness of the earth and that you were cold and then the bite of metal at your wrists. In that initial haze your mind did not comprehend that you were now shackled. But as your eyes fluttered open, shock and hurt rocketed through you, as not ten feet from you by a fire was Petroculus who was sharing a meal with one of the attackers.

   Part of you died that night, and what you witnessed in the days to follow. Looking down you realized that you felt the dampness of the ground for they had taken your beautiful clothing leaving you bare upon the earth naked except for the crude black shackles that adorned your delicate wrists and ankles. Maybe you moaned or made some other sort of sound, because Petroculus turned and met your stunned gaze. You’d never seen that look of undisguised lust on any man's face and his companion noticed it too.

“Remember friend, our patron wants her delivered unspoiled to the block. That bitch's virginity is worth your weight in gold” The man said.

Petroculus snorted and replied, “She just a little slut like any other, but I’m being well paid.” He finished, then he asked if that that proscription applied to her maids.

“Have fun,” the man replied, sporting a lecherous grin.

With sickening horror, you watched that night as Aramina, Theira, and Danisha who were as much friends as your maids were repeatedly ****. Unable to look away you watched as their legs were wrenched opened and heard their shrill screams turn into pitiful moans as Petroculus and the slavers took turns rutting between their silky thighs.

The overriding memory from that night was the shame. You were ashamed of your nakedness, and ashamed that you were unable to help your servants, shame that you felt relief that the assaults were happening to them and not you. Coupled with that was another shameful feeling that you are still loath to admit even to yourself; watching what was going on brought a wetness to your loins, and fire to your blood. The next morning there was little time to talk, you could see that your maids were sore as you gulped down a meal of water and gruel. Danisha and Aramina both had smears of blood on their thighs, the night must have been particularly hard on them. You were then tied to a saddle and the group would depart heading south along an old game trail.

This went on for three days and each night you watched as a frightening transformation came over your maids. The second night your maids went from struggling flutily to meekly lying there as the men had their way and then to humping back and moaning out in undisguised pleasure at the crude things done to them. The last night before you joined the main column you watched in an aroused state as all three of them now responded to the men's cock and even begging for their seed.

Most confusing of all the events of those early days is how you experienced the first orgasm of your sheltered life. Petroculus was kneeling behind Danisha watching intently you as he used her naked body, your maid was on her hands and knees, screaming for her **** to shoot into her womb. Your thighs squeezed together in rhythm with the thrusts naively imagining how you would keep the man from being able to gain entry into your sacred sanctuary no matter how hard he thrust. You felt the heat in your loins build but didn't even realize what was happening until with a gasp a flood of wetness gushed from your pink lips and your breath came in ragged gasps as you fought to regain control. You hoped Petroculus hadn't noticed your response, but he laughed out loud crudely as he pulled out of Danisha and spewed a fountain of cum all over her back.

Shaking yourself free of the memory, you slide your hand down your soft belly to your now hairless Venus Mount, and sure enough you're once again wet to the touch. You moan at your body's continued betrayal, and your fingers itch to stroke and caress yourself to completion, but the fear that a guard could come and see you stays your hand.

You slump back against the cell wall, and begin to notice that something is different tonight, but you can't put your finger on what. A faint noise that could indicate that the guards were coming for you, reaching behind you, you feel at the base of the wall till you find what you're looking for. You smile grimly as you wrap around the handle of the spoon you were able to steal when they fed you and you've carefully sharpened it these past few nights. Maybe you’ll get to use it …….