You try to hide it in Iola...

You look at the loose pile of bedding. The odds of Iola being able to reach far enough, to hide it deep enough that it wouldn't be found, or just fall out when they were moving it, are slim. Which leaves you with only one option - Frey's recently pounded pussy would be far too sore to take it. Carefully, with the knife inside you shifting in a way that's both uncomfortable and arousing.

For the second time that night, you push Iola's pale knees apart and gaze at her sweet young womanhood. Wrapping the other knife in cloth and putting it to one side, you begin to caress he nether-lips. She's still wet down there, you note, a holdover from your earlier work - or maybe a part of her is genuinely turned on by the rough treatment and the prospect of ****, she certainly liked it enough when you were talking dirty about it earlier.

You start to lick and toy with her. She gives a little whimper, and you hurriedly clap a hand over her mouth, not wanting the guards to hear. Although you feel sorry for the girl, she?s beginning to annoy you - after all, if the noble bitch hadn't been so horny, you wouldn't be in this mess. You're worried to find that pleasuring her isn't as easy this time round. Partially it's the stress you're both feeling, and partially that all the techniques you developed while playing with yourself were to teasingly make your pleasure as long and intense as possible, rather than simply to get a pussy wet and open as quickly as you can.

You hear footsteps approaching, and realize you're out of time. Desperately, you try to push the knife hilt in. But her virgin pussy if too tight, far too tight, and you can barely get it halfway. As the door-knob begins to turn you give a snarl of frustration and let Iola's strong young muscles push it out again, making it clatter to the floor in a pool of juices. You hiss to Iola to hide it as you throw yourself across the room to where you were lying previously, at the opposite edge of the chains' reach.

"-still think we should persuade Quintus to let us have a crack at the fresh black-haired cunt before we move out. There's time." The guards' voices are quite clear now. As the door opens, you curse the rich slut again. She's just lying there, stunned and panicked, with her legs spread, her pussy glistening between them and a knife lying in front of it. At first the two guards who've entered stare with lusty grins, but then the older veteran frowns as he notices the knife.

"What's going on here?" he demands, and you struggle to think up a suitable lie. "Answer," he adds with a mean look, "or we'll **** it out of you, and we won't be as gentle or lover-like as we were planning to be."

Iola at last closes her legs. She looks scared at the prospect, and you realize her nerve's breaking and she may be about to tell them about your plan.