THE SLAVE GIRL
Posted by Barbanne on August 14, 2003 at 23:54:02:
This story dates back to the very early days of Necrobabes when we only had one message board and I wrote as Barbara. Everyone used to include everyone else in their stories and I was no exception and VICKI was the big kahuna even then!
In those days I even used to do chat but it was all too rapid for me and I'm a real slooooooow thinker so I gave up.
But back then because Necrobabes was smaller and more amatuerish it was fun.
THE SLAVE GIRL.
Vicki, the beautiful dark haired slave girl entered the chambers of her mistress, the Lady Barbara.
The room was enormous. It had high ceilings, marbled floors and walls, and rows of penetrations leading to the outside loggias, admitted the sun, flooding the room with light. The furnishings were sumptuous. Divans and cushions were scattered about the room, all covered in rich silks and brocades which matched the curtains that lined the walls. In the centre of the room was a large spa pool, the tepidarium, filled with crystal clear, warm water.
At the side of this pool was a huge divan strewn with soft comfortable cushions of silk scattered on the silk lining of the divan. All were done in soft colours of pink and lilac and blue and a silvery grey.
On this divan lay the Lady Barbara, Vicki’s young, cruel and bitchy mistress. She was bare breasted, her only clothing being a short gold lame skirt and golden sandals. Her titian hair was down, cascading over her milk white shoulders and down to the swell of her breasts. Her upper arms were entwined with armlets of gold encrusted with jewels. Strands of priceless pearls and jewelled chokers draped her neck. Golden threads were woven in her hair.
Vicki approached her. Vicki was dressed in a bra and panties of a diaphonous white material and had a smoky chiffon over-garment that clung to her slender luscious body like a coating over her smooth glowing skin.
She was barefoot.
It was the way all of the girls in Lady Barbara’s chambers dressed, it was the way she liked them to dress. Vicki was her favourite and her eyes followed the slave girl’s entrance with undisguised hunger.
Vicki carried the silver tray with the red glass goblet on it. Filled with amber fluid, chilled to perfection, the goblet glowed in the light reflected from the pool. Moisture beaded on the glass like pearl drops.
“What have you got for me today, Vicki” The honeyed words dripped with venomous innuendo.
“Your favourite, my lady.”
“Ah, the golden nectar, ambrosia. Put it down here my dear.”
As Vicki leaned forward to put the tray on a glass topped side table, she deftly broke the paper packet and let the potion from the sorceror fall into the glass where it disappeared, dissolving immediately. Such was the fluidity of her movements that the Lady Barbara noticed nothing. Head bowed after depositing the tray Vicki could smell the exotic fragrance that emanated from the body of the woman before her. The essence of wealth, power and priviledge.
“Come here, Vicki” Lady Barbara patted the divan next to her.
Vicki sat. She was well aware that her mistress often had assignations with and craved the favours of her slave girls, Vicki’s friends and counterparts. So far she had been able to keep her mistress at arms length, but she knew that the Lady Barbara lusted for her perfection of face and figure.
Her thoughts went to Gar, the palace guardsman whom she loved and with whose help she hoped to soon free them all from the tyranny of this woman before her.
Lady Barbara laid her hand on Vicki’s thigh. Vicki could feel the other woman’s soft small hand rubbing her flesh through the thin chiffon material which covered her leg.
Lady Barbara was a beauty in her thin, pale skinned way, but to Vicki thoughts of what she wanted were repulsive.
“Vicki, we should become closer.”
In your dreams my lady, thought Vicki but she said “Perhaps my lady would like to partake of the cold nectar in this hot weather.”
“Yes indeed Vicki” She raised the glass to her lips and swallowed half the contents, her eyes never leaving Vicki’s face.
Vicki watched her,-now we shall see what effect the sorceror’s potion has on you my lady.
Lady Barbara smiled at Vicki, lasciviously wiping the last drops of liquid from her lips. Her smile turned to a grin which broadened until it become wider, grotesquely wider and Vicki realised it had become a grimace. Her eyes squeezed shut as her body began to tense, to stiffen and then to jitter. Saliva began seeping through her gritted teeth and then drooling down her neck and onto her breasts. It turned to froth obscuring her teeth. Her eyes opened slightly and rolled upward, exposing a sliver of white.
Her body began convulsing and her heels drummed on the floor. Her hands came up and clawed at the air, pawing like the hooves of a rampant stallion. They went clawlike and her whole body shuddered tremendously, stiffened as though she was trying to turn herself into stone and then as suddenly as it had started she went totally limp and flaccid and collapsed backward to lie on her back, sightless eyes staring upward and closing, turning opaque as the last glimmer of light faded from them, arms and legs outflung and quivering as she passed into death.
And then she was still.
Vicki stooped over the prone form of her young mistress. “You were young, beautiful and you had it all, but you were evil..........why?” She whispered into the ears that would hear no more. Then, lowering her head, she kissed Barbara on each breast, caressed her upthrust nipples with the softness of her mouth.
“That was for the occasions when you treated me so well.” She murmured.
Then she struck the dead face before her with such force that it jerked sideways through ninety degrees and spittle flew from the gaping mouth out and over the cushions. Her hand came back and struck the other side of the dead girl’s face jerking it back again. “And that was for the other times.”
Vicki stood and going around to the other side of the exotic divan that had become an exotic bier for Barbara, she took the dead woman’s wrists and lifted and pulled her into the centre of the silken area. Satisfied with her positioning she then rolled her onto her side and arranged her as though sleeping. She cleaned all signs of the froth and mess from Barbara’s lips and from inside her mouth, then she walked around and viewed her efforts from different parts of the room. When she was convinced that anyone looking in on Barbara would assume she were asleep and therefore not to be disturbed, she gathered up her things, including the tell tale drink and left, flitting from the room wraithlike, as if she had never been there.
Now she must go to Gar, tell him it was done and set the revolt in motion. No longer would they suffer in servitude and as slaves for these cruel and vile people. The rising would come now, the slave girls banding together as one would overthrow these tyrants and achieve that of which they had dreamed for so long........FREEDOM!!!
Some little time after Vicki left the sumptuous chamber where Barbara lay, another entered silently through the thick drapery.
A dark and saturnine man, clad in a loincloth of leather and spun gold and wearing leather sandals on his well formed feet. He was a beautiful man, lean, muscular, tanned and with a chiselled face, aquiline nose and dark brown eyes under long soft lashes that many women would have killed for. He had a generous mouth and a sculpted chin. Curly black hair surrounded his face like a halo.
He was Ra-Be, the ambitious and powerful captain of the guard.
He moved swiftly and silently to where Barbara lay, apparently sleeping, and looked down at her. A sneer curled his lip as he looked at this priviledged woman. Quite a bit short of thirty years of age, she nonetheless commanded this fiefdom, it’s ruler and an absolute ruler at that. A powerful woman, but a mean spirited and spiteful woman, he knew he must cultivate her favour if he was to advance. Many times he had serviced her, professing a love he did not feel.
He loved another, far more than he could ever love this woman.
He bent over her, took her shoulder, softly shaking it.
“My Lady.” His voice was like deep honey.
“My Lady, awaken, it is time to go.”
She didn’t move.
He shook her more vigorously.
Still she didn’t move except to respond to his shaking.
“Ah, little sleepyhead.” He said in his liquid baritone, “Waken for your Ra-Be”
He shook her very vigorously.
“Come awake Madam.”
This time he shook her with such force that when he stopped she didn’t, slowly rolling onto her back. As she did he saw the lowered eyelids and the sliver of white eyeball gazing sightlessly at him. He saw the slack jawed mouth sagging open, revealing the secrets of the pink mouth and tongue. He saw the tongue lolling in the open mouth.
He took her wrist, felt in vain for a pulse of life. He put his finger to her throat, again no beating pulse to tell him that she lived. He gently lifted her eyelid with his finger, but her eyeballs were rolled so far back in their sockets that only blank whiteness showed.
“So, my imperious beauty. Who has done this to you? Where is your power now, where your control over us all?’
“Gone, as you are gone.”
He rolled her fully onto her back, his long fingers slipped into the waistband of her skirt and popped it open. He pulled it out from under her and threw it to one side. he took the sandals from her feet and discarded them also. Slipping out of his loincloth, he joined her on the bed, perched over her on bended knees like some preying creature. He caressed her breasts, thumbing her nipples, which in death had stood upright like two little pillars,never to again relax. He ran his fingures down her throat, massaged her breasts again and continued on down over her ribcage to her flat belly, stooping he sucked her navel and traced down her groin with his tongue, licking and probing. He ran his tongue through her downy red bush, through the fine wispy hair to her glistening slit.
Her sweet, wet, soft slit. He probed into it with his tongue, sucking out her juices.
He continued tracing down her inner thighs, her knobbly litle knees, her smooth curvaceous shins and her long thin feet.
He sucked her toes, separating them and holding each one in his mouth.
By now he was huge, tumescent, throbbing, almost in pain with the need to relieve himself.
Covering her soft, limp, dead body with his hard, living flesh, he plunged his cock into her juicy pussy, forcing it apart with wet sucking sounds. He grasped the firm, smooth, twin globes of her buttocks and using them for leverage, plunged into her again and again. With her backside half lifted off the silk her shoulders and head rolled in rhythm with his motion and her slender feet danced on their own.
Impaling her he thrust on and on, his excitement growing until his cock exploded and his cum pounded into her dead pussy filling it to the brim.
He rolled off her.
Lay there panting, recovering his breath.
Eventually he rose, dressed and went for the guard.
“As you can see, our Empress, has been murdered, raped and murdered.”
Some twenty men and women, the ruling council of the land stood around the divan looking down at it and listening to Ra-Be.
On the silken sheets, Barbara lay, head thrown back, arms out, legs spread. Her sightless eyes gazed upward and her mouth hung open. Semen drooled from her glistening slit.
Naked, helpless, all of her secrets, her innermost privacies being looked at, stared at, by all of these people.
They walked around the body on the divan. Two older women remarked how young and vulnerable, how frail she looked, lying here naked and dead. They had only seen her before in the full panoply of her regalia. Dressed in the splendour and magnificence that accompanied her regal meetings with them and others, she had looked every inch a ruler and and empress. Now lying here, she looked like what she was, a young girl, stripped of her dignity, her power, her magnificence and her clothes, violated cruelly and murdered. She looked wan, pathetic and very dead.
An old courtier, aged, white bearded, stepped up to the divan and taking Barbara’s chin between his fingers turned her head from side to side. It rolled with his movement, floppy and without verve, lifeless, limp, defenceless.
Another woman, younger, a member of the patrician classes sat at the end of the
divan, holding one of Barbara’s feet, stroking it gently, absent mindedly.
They talked of what this meant, what must happen. Ra-Be dominated the discussion. It meant quite simply, he said, that the slaves were preparing to revolt.
He intended to move first.
Six young girls entered the room, silently, bare footed. They came to the divan. the courtiers moved aside. These were the emissaries from the mortuary.
They had come for Barbara.
They would bear her body away to the mortician’s catacombs. There the master mortician would work his magic, washing, applying oils, unguents, draining the body of it’s fluids and replacing them with embalming lotions, massaging away the effects of rigor mortis, until Barbara’s body looked as beautiful in death as it had in life.
The six girls flanked the divan.
Their small supple hands took Barbara by the arms, the legs and the waist. As one they lifted her body and bore it out of the room. Her head dangled helplessly, hair sweeping the floor. Her feet hung limply from her swinging calves. her beautiful tight ass sagged in their hold.
They left through the curtained alcove of one of the many entrances.
Vicki lay in Gar’s arms.
She was still hot, sweating after their love making. He had taken her to plateaus of delight that she had thought unimaginable. His gentleness and soft strength had dominated her as he had brought her to the point of climax with foreplay that awoke every nerve and fibre of her body. Her pleasure had tingled through her entire being, slowly concentrating itself between her legs in her soft sweet aching pussy. Then when he had finally taken her, it had resulted in an explosion of pleasure that had washed through her, leaving her drained of all emotion, warmly and wonderfully tired and happy and very satisfied.
Now she lay next to him, the soft curves of her naked body pressing into him, moulded into him, her flesh and his flesh melding as one flesh. His hard, lean body, flat planes and surfaces, so strong, so warm, so comforting.
She kissed him and felt the familiar stirrings starting all over again.
“Tomorrow my dear, tomorrow we take back our freedom from the empire.”
“Mmmmm.” He mumbled sleepily. “Mmmm, but that’s tomorrow.”
He returned her kiss and pressed against her. She could feel his erection sliding itself upward, undeniable, urgent.
She kissed him back, urgent herself, pleasure washing through her.
There was a knock at the door.
Placing her finger tips against Gar’s mouth to shush him, Vicki called out softly.
“It’s me Vicki, its Selena. Let me in.”
Selena, one of the leaders of the slave girl revolution. A tall willowy blonde with a spectacular bust, one whom Vicki relied on and sought help from even though Gar was always appreciative of Selena’s splendid tits.
Vicki slipped from the bed and crossed quickly to he door.
She opened it a crack and looked out.
Selena stood there, looking at her, fear and anguish in her eyes.
“Forgive me Vicki, they forced me to..................”
Her words stopped and her eyes widened in terror and pain. In horror Vicki watched as the point of a thin steel blade emerged from Selena’s left breast. Blood gushed from her mouth and her eyes glazed over, rolling backwards in her head as though she had suddenly found something of enormous interest on the backs of her eyelids that she wanted to see. The blood ran down her throat, over the swell of her breasts and flooded her white tunic.
Selena went limp as though every bone in her body had turned to jelly and everything had switched off for her and she collapsed down and backward out of sight.
The Imperial guards were there and they forced there way past the door despite Vicki’s best efforts to hold them at bay.
They filled the room.
Naked and unarmed as they were Vicki and Gar could offer no resistance and the guards took them quickly and efficiently. Bound with whipcord they were hustled away.
The sun blazed down on the arena.
At dawn the killing had started and now a thousand slave girls lay dead.
They were stretched out shoulder to shoulder in rows, their feet in an endless parade of upturned toes. Every one of them stark naked.
They were piled in stacks, like cords of firewood, breast crushing breast, hip over hip, arms dangling and legs splayed in a forest of limbs. Naked as the day they were born, a multitude of nude flesh and all of it dead.
The butchery had started as the sun came up, blades flashing in the rising rays of the day. Up and down, in and out, blood gushing, flowing, drenching the sand.
Some girls had been repeatedly raped until they died, pleading to die, weeping, howling.
The slaughter was continuing now as two girls had been dragged out by the hair, naked, terrified and helpless to defend themselves against the brutality of the guards. A brutish man plunged a short sword into one girl’s abdomen and with a shriek she folded over and fell to the ground, blood gushing from her fatal wound. Another guard was strangling the other girl and her gulping attempts to draw breath echoed around the arena before with a quivering shudder her body finally stilled and she fell backward on the ground.
Her killer took her roughly by the arms and dragged her toward a pile of dead slaves. Her heels dragged two tracks through the sand. The other guard took his victim by the ankles. She had fallen face down and now as he dragged her away, her breasts and chin scored three parallel lines in the sand as well as a long bloody smear from the gushing wound in her belly.
When the two killers reached the pile of dead women, they took first one body and then the other by arms and ankles and after swinging them back and forth a few times, heaved them onto the top of the pile. Both girls landed with a wet smacking whump of dead flesh meeting dead flesh.
All of the slave girls were dead.
The brassy smell of blood pervaded the air of the arena.
It was time for the main event. the crowd held their breath.
Vicki and Gar were led out.
Both were completely nude and their magnificent bodies had been oiled so that they gleamed in the late afternoon sun which tinged their skin red. Blood red.
From high in the stands Ra-Be looked down on them. He was now Emperor of the realm. The most powerful man in the land.
Next to him, in an open sarcophagus, lay the beautifully made up and preserved body of Barbara. As was their custom she was nude but her body was covered in flower blossoms. Her face was open to the air, allowing the populace to pay their last respects to their fallen empress. He looked at her pretty face, full lips glistening as though about to open, eyes closed, the long lashes caressing her cheeks. A sprinkling of freckles dusted her skin. Her nipples penetrated her flowered shroud and thrust themselves cheekily at him.
He looked back at the arena where the only woman he had ever really loved, Vicki, was about to meet her fate. If only she could have loved him. But it was not to be.
He raised his hand.
In the arena, two guards came forward and handed Vicki and Gar a sword each, before retreating.
It was to be a battle to the death.
They were to be each others’ opponents.
Vicki looked at Gar.
Gar looked at Vicki.
“I can’t do this Gar.”
“We have no choice Vicki.”
“Come we must make it look good.”
“Kill me quickly Gar.”
They sprang at each other fenced, feinted, lunged and parried. Their oiled bodies gleamed in the dying rays of the sun. Magnificent pectorals, buttocks and breasts. A symphony of beautiful bodies.
Vicki ran forward and dropping her sword arm, offered up her unprotected breast to Gar. “Now, now darling, make it quick.”
He lunged forward his sword pierced her left breast and sank into the flesh, rib cage and organs. Blood spurted and flowed. She dropped her sword, stiffened, her back arched and her breasts with his sword impaled, thrust forward at him, provocative in the extreme. She sagged and dropped to her knees. He withdrew the sword. She clutched him around the thighs. Blood spilled from her mouth.
“Take me, take me one last time.”
“I’m yours, always and forever yours.”
The crowd had sucked in its collective breath when Gar stabbed Vicki and now they held it.
Gar stepped back.
Vicki collapsed face down on the sand. The sun burnished the twin mounds of her superb ass. it shone on the glorious musculature of her sculpted back, her smooth long thighs, her long svelte calves, her slender sexy feet. Her hair spread out over the sand covering her head like a mantle.
Blood ran out from under her stilled body spreading out and soaking into the sand.
The crowd sighed as one.
A lone voice cried out.
“Take her, take the damned snooty bitch.”
The crowd inhaled as one and held their breath awaiting............
Gar dropped to his knees and with one hand on her shoulder, rolled Vicki onto her back. The crowd drew in their breath once more. He brushed the sand from her face and breasts and body. His erection had grown tumescent, huge, magnificent. Cupping Vicki’s ass in both hands he drew her on like a glove for his phallus. A gasp of pleasure shared rippled through the crowd.
Gar started his pumping, slowly, sensuously, Vicki’s body moved in time to his motions. As his pleasure grew his speed increased until he could hold it no longer and he burst, exploding his load into her tight, sweet, dead cunt.
The crowd gasped and then a long sigh moved around the arena.
Gar kissed Vicki’s dead lips, already growing cold.
The sweaty arms of the guards rose in unison and as one their swords plunged into Gar’s back.
His back arched, his muscles corded, his veins stood out.
Then suddenly limp he fell over Vicki’s body, protecting her even in death.
Later the carcass of Gar was added to the pile.
At Ra-Be’s order, the luscious body of the dead woman, Vicki, was spirited away.
To his quarters.
The daughters of death were summoned.
Now truly would she be his.