Nudity just hadn't seemed
important in the face of possible death. It was amazing how the fear of taking
a spear in the belly focused ones mind. But now that
those fears were receding, now that she could actually understand what the men
were saying, and had some hope of communicating with them – if they ever took
away her gag, her fear was receding, and other things were rising in her mind.
I'm fucking naked!
There were now eight of
them, these soldiers, all, of course, robustly male. They weren't as tall
and... savage... as the others had been, but there was no mistaking the shape
they were in, and no mistaking the eyes they kept casting on her as she
stumbled along... naked.
They seemed particularly
fascinated by her breasts, and couldn't stop commenting on them, not on the
ringed nipples, but the shape of her breasts, which they evidently found – like
most men in her experience – quite pleasing. Meghan was not a big breasted
girl. But she had never found it difficult to fill out a bikini top. And they were
full and firm with youth and vitality.
And now ten sets of eyes
kept admiring them as they moved along. Nor did their eyes stray long from her
groin, where her pussy was far and away more visible, she supposed, than those
of most of the women of this place. If she was correct, if somehow she had been
transported back into the distant past, then most women would have a copious
amount of pubic hair down there. That was not something she had ever found
She had no hair below the
waist, thanks to a gift from her mother on her eighteenth birthday. Her mother
intended her to simply have her legs done, but as her comfort level had grown,
Meghan had decided to include her bikini area, as well as her underarms. She
wondered what the practices were of the local women.
But that was an idle
thought. For as she walked along, her mind was divided along two paths. One was
concerned with where she was and how in the hell she'd gotten there, along with
what was going to happen with her, and how she might get back. The second path
was her intense awareness of her undressed state, of her helplessness, and of
the men surrounding her, eying her like wolves escorting a succulent sheep.
At any moment they could
pounce, and then what?
Oddly enough, she did not
fear that, at least, not much. She hadn't forgotten the suggestion she simply
be killed out of hand. So survival was still her primary goal. Any lesser fear
was simply irrelevant at this point in time... in time.
She was growing rapidly
tired, however, as they walked. None of the men seemed even winded, but she had
walked for some time already, and was probably not in nearly their shape to
begin with. She scented smoke from a fire, finally, then saw a few thin
tendrils rising above the grass. They came out of the grass into a broad
cleared area by a stream, and there was suddenly a camp there.
A part of her felt a sense
of relief, for she was exhausted, sweating and desperately needed a drink. But
then she became aware of the men in the camp, dozens and dozens of soldiers.
Some were sitting near campfires. Some were sitting in front of low tents. Some
were standing around talking. All turned to stare as she was led up, and her
face heated further as they all focused on her. Her arms jerked involuntarily,
as if they could pull free from the leather binding them behind her and cover
her naked body.
She was led through the
camp, which was silent at first, then erupted in a cacophony of whistles,
mostly obscene shouts, suggestions and questions.
“Where'd you get the slut, Jenmore?”
“New recruit, Jenmore?”
“Give her over to me! I'll
“Look at the tits on that
“I want to bend that one
over my saddle!”
your saddle? I just want to bend her over!”
“I bet witch pussy is tight
“That your new wife, Jenmore? Think she's big enough to hold that horse cock of
“You forgot to shove your
spear into this one, Jenmore. Or did you do that
Cringing, she was led
amongst them all, past numerous tents, up to a larger tent, where an older man
stood. He had no armor, but instead wore a black blouse of some kind over what
Meghan could only consider to be a red skirt. It wasn't a kilt, for it wasn't
pleated. The skirt came down to about mid-thigh, and he wore it with no evident
sense of self-consciousness. Nor, she admitted, did he look the least bit
feminine. He was perhaps thirty, which was quite a bit older than most of the
soldiers, and not as muscular. His body, though, looked strong, wiry. His dark
brown hair was cut much shorter than most of the soldiers, almost what she
thought of as a brush cut. His kin was as tanned as theirs, though, and his
eyes as brown.
He wasn't an unattractive
man, but one she would have dismissed yesterday as too old for her. Two men stood
to other side, flanking him, guarding the tent, she realized. They were
soldiers like the others, only bigger, taller, and their chest armor was made
up of strips of well-polished
plate, layered, rather like the shingles of a house, and fastened together with
thin leather cords against a leather undercoat.
“Report,” he said curtly.
The man who seemed to be in
charge, the one who had decided to take her to 'the captain' stiffened his body
and punched his fist against the center of his chest.
“Sir. We found a group of four Daghari, probably a hunting party, just inside the woods to
the southeast. This one was as you see, and they were dragging her into a fire
The captain examined her
closely, then reached out to brush her hair. A moment
later he slid strong brown fingers under her chin and raised her head, forcing
her to look at him.
“Have you questioned her, Jenmore?”
The other man seemed
surprised. “Ah, we don't speak Daghari,
“And does this appear to be
Jenmore bit his lip in
“She doesn't look like a Daghari
“It didn't occur to me,
Captain. She's so... foreign, I was sure we wouldn't know a word of whatever
language her folk speak. And... well,
if she was a witch, Captain, she might have spelled us, belike.”
The captain nodded gravely
but Meghan didn't think he put much store in that idea.
“Remove the gag.”
Jenmore produced a knife and slid
it up against her cheek. Meghan flinched but he was quite nimble, and sliced
through the leather without cutting her. She worked the wad of leather in her
mouth out and spit it at the ground, then gulped in air.
“Water,” was the first word
she gasped, her mouth being so horrifically dry.
There were mutters of
surprise all around her, and after the captain nodded, Jenmore
opened a water skin he had at his side and poured the liquid slowly into her
mouth. It tasted horrible, but Meghan tilted her head back, drinking greedily,
sucking from the narrow mouth of the skin before he pulled it back.
“Who are you? Where do you
come from?” the captain asked.
It was impossible that she
was standing her naked, surrounded by scores of men, and be forced to answer
questions! It was bizarre, but after swallowing and licking her lips, Meghan
tried to explain as best she could.
“M-My name is Meghan,” she
said. “I don't even know where here is. I was in a museum, north of Badajoz, and I was
working on a small ancient box we'd found. I opened it and found a jewel
inside. I was cleaning the jewel and... and I woke up
… here... I don't know where here is!”
There were more mutters
around her, extending further back into the crowd of men.
“Where is this jewel?” the
captain asked, looking down at her belly button ring.
“I... I don't know. I mean,
I never thought to look.”
“Bring her inside,” he
The two guards at the door
seized her arms, one at each side, and half lifted,
half dragged her into the tent, then put her down roughly on her knees on the
The tent held a simple cot
made of clothe and wood, a table, and two small
chairs. A pack sat in one corner. A sword hung from a hook on one of the tent
posts, and armor lay in a near pile at the head of the cot. The floor was made
of some sort of rough hide.
“You can go,” the captain
The two men thumped fists
against their chest, and withdrew. The tent flaps closed behind them, and she
was alone with the captain.
He stood before her, as if
He reached out and slid his
fingers through her hair, then tightened them, and drew her head slowly but
firmly up and back.
“You're a lovely woman,
May-gan,” he said. “Tell me about this Badajoz place
you come from.”
He released her hair, then
pulled over one of the chairs and sat down in front of her.
Meghan swallowed anxiously.
He had made no move to hurt her, but neither had he offered to cut her arms
free or give her anything to wear.
“I'm not from Badajoz,” she
said. “I was on a dig near the museum which is near there.”
“I... I'm an architecture
She had to backtrack
further and explain what architecture was.
“So you are a scholar,” he
yes. And we were digging at the ruins of an ancient palace.”
She explained the dig, the
purpose of it, and how she was working on the jewel. Then she had to backtrack
again to explain that she actually came from Boston, and that was some distance
“What direction is that
“I don't know where here
is!” exclaimed. “More importantly, I don't now when I
He raised his eyebrows.
“I think that... I think
that somehow I have gone back in time.”
His eyebrows raised even higher, and he smiled.
She tried to explain about
the landscape around the museum, and how it had all changed, even as he reached
down and cupped her left breast. She gasped, but continued to speak as his
fingers slid up to her nipple and began to examine the ring there. He tugged it
a little, and slipped his little finger through it. It was, to put it mildly,
“Who made this?” he asked.
“I-I don't know. I bought
it at a store.”
His other hand toyed with
the other ring, turning them both, lifting them, his fingers stroking both
rings and nipples together as she felt her chest tighten and her stomach begin
“The soldiers seem afraid
you are a witch,” he said. “Your hair is an extraordinary color, though I have
heard that some in the far north have such coloring. Your skin is very fair and
unmarked, and your features are like to that of statues of celestial maidens.”
His hand slid down her
chest, down her belly, and between her legs, causing her to flinch again.
“Spread your legs,” he
Biting her lip, Meghan
obeyed, and his fingers rubbed at her sex and the flesh around it. She felt a
hot rush pass up her body as his fingers caressed her clit.
“Your body seems to have no
hair. I thought perhaps you had shaved it with a very sharp razor, but there is
no trace of hair where all mortals have hair.”
He gripped her hair again,
jerking her head up and back sharply so that she gasped in pain.
“Yet I believe you are
mortal,” he said thoughtfully.
“I-I am!” she gasped.
“Well, there is one way to
test that, but if you speak truthfully, passing the test would be the end of
He released her hair, then cupped her breasts, lifting them, examining them.
“And that would be a waste.
For you could be worth a great deal of coin.”
“How many summers do you
She stared at him blankly.
“Your breasts are those of
a very young girl, yet over large for that. I sense, though, that you are no
“I'm twenty, “she said.
He cocked his head to one
side, his fingers kneading her breasts as she fought to keep herself steady.
“Twenty summers. You look
far less than that, for all your height.”
He brushed his thumbs
across her nipples, which were already erect.
“I have not seen skin so
unmarked in a very long time.”
He released her breasts and
stood up. Meghan found her face inches from his groin, but only for a few
moments. He walked past her and opened one of the flaps.
“Send for the physician,”
He returned to her and
poured a goblet of something.
“Would you like some wine?”
“Yes, please,” she said
He held the goblet to her
lips and she drank thirstily.
She drew her head back a
little. “I haven't eaten or drank since I wakened here.”
“Last night, you say.”
He went to the table, and
she saw him open the top of a wicker basket. He reached in and took out some
sort of pear, then held it before her lips. It wasn't what she wanted, but she
bit into it anyway. It tasted sweet, and she bit again, chewing and swallowing
quickly as he watched.
She was half finished when
the flap drew back and a thin, older man came in. He had white hair and a
neatly trimmed white beard. Aside from that, he wore a white robe which dangled
to his knees, with a rope around his waist.
what do you make of this girl?”
“Lovely,” the man said.
“Is she human?”
“For all her strange
coloring, she would appear to be,” the man said.
He touched her hair, ran
his fingers through it, then tugged on it, forcing her to her feet. She gasped
as he lifted her and sat her on the table, then ran
his fingers over her face, down over her breasts and back up to her cheeks. He
pressed his thumbs against the sides of her lips, forcing her mouth open, and
examined her teeth.
He pushed against her
shoulders and Meghan yelped as she fell back onto her back. His hands pulled
her thighs up and spread them wide, then his thumbs
pulled open the lips of her sex.
His finger pushed slowly
into her sex as the captain looked on, and she blushed furiously.
“Her skin is remarkably
unmarred, but you'll have noticed that,” he said over his shoulder. “Aside from
her lack of hair her sex looks as it should.”
He pressed a finger against
her back opening and slid it into her, and Meghan blushed even more furiously.
“Note her teeth. I haven't
seen teeth that perfectly shaped before. Her facial features are longer and more narrow than I've seen too. She's like a portrait of a
“Yes, I know.”
“She is no virgin but has
born no children, and I judge has been little-used.”
“She says she is twenty
The doctor's eyebrows rose.
He ran his fingers over her breasts again.
“It is possible. Tell me,
what was she wearing when found?”
“Nothing. The Daghari
had her prisoner.”
“And your men did not
search around to see what they might have taken from her?”
“Were you wearing anything,
girl?” he asked.
“I-I... yes,” she gulped.
“We should obtain the
clothing. We could learn much about her origin from the style of the weaving.”
“I will see to it.”
Meghan yelped as the doctor
abruptly thrust a thin pin into her breast. He tugged it back, and watched a
thin bead of blood emerge. His finger brushed it off and he sniffed at it, then licked it.
“The blood tastes normal,”
he said. “She looks like she was raised in a palace somewhere.”
“A very valuable prize
then,” the captain said.
more if you can find more of them.”
“Yes, we shall have to
“But there aren't,” she
gasped. “There's just me!”
“Perhaps,” the captain
said. “Or perhaps you lie.”
He turned to the doctor.
“Thank you, Fostus.”
The man bowed his head,
then left, and the captain looked down at her. Since he was standing at the
edge of the table, where her bottom rested, legs spread, Meghan felt her pulse
beginning to race. His eyes moved up and down her body, and then his hands
followed, but casually.
He brushed two fingers over
her lips, then slowly eased them into her mouth and
across her tongue. Meghan felt her heart thump, and stared up at him as his
fingers gently caressed her tongue, turning slowly within her mouth. He
withdrew them, and his hand moved between her spread legs. His fingers rubbed
lightly along the lips of her sex as she held her breath, then
slid slowly into her.
“Mortal of celestial, you
will bring a fine price at market,” he said.
Meghan's eyes widened. Then
she gasped as the pad of his thumb brushed at her clit, then
did so again, and again.
“I have never seen a girl
denuded of hair before,” he said. “Save for very young girls. I must say I find
the appearance... pleasing. And your skin is... soft. Very,
Meghan stared up at him,
wide-eyed, breathless, watching as his fingers rubbed
at her, as they slid slowly in and out of her pussy. The front of his skirt –
his robe, she supposed – was rising. When he raised it she caught her breath as
he drew himself out, naked, thick, hard, and as uncircumcised as the savages in
He rested his cock against
her, drawing his fingers out, then rubbed it slowly up and down along her sex.
“I have never been serviced
by a celestial before, but I have some experience with well-born women.”
He pressed down with the
head of his cock, still sliding it up and down her sex, letting it spread the
lips of her sex slowly apart as it moved. It stroked across her clitoris, and
then pushed down into the mouth of her sex. Meghan held her breath,
chest tight, heart pounding as he slowly applied more pressure, and then sank
his shaft down into her.
He gripped her thighs,
pressing them down harder, and his hips pushed forward. She moaned as his shaft
pushed deeper, as it spread the lips of her sex and the walls of her pussy. She
felt it push almost all the way to the back of her, then
reached even that as his hips pressed against her buttocks.
He sighed, then reached
down and peeled his robe up and off. Nude, he was all muscles, but small ones.
He had a slender body, but but athletic, without an
inch of fat. Meghan lay on her still-bound arms and stared up at him as he
leaned into her, coming closer and closer. His hands slid off her thighs as his
hips pushed down, slid up her body and kneaded her breasts. Then he bent fully,
and seized her hair roughly, jerking her her head up
and back to draw a small gasp of pain from her lips.
His own covered them, and she
moaned against his tongue as his hips pressed firmly against her buttocks, then
began to grind against her. She was breathless, overawed by everything, and
lacked even the most elementary control over anything she did – or was done to
her. She was alarmed that he had decided to simply use her like this, but not
surprised, and in some way even reassured as to her value. He was also being
considerably less rough than the barbarians had.
More to the point, her
entire concept of sexual morality had gone out the window with her passage to
this place, this... time. This was a place where people killed each other for
any old reason! And she had no defense. That meant she needed someone to defend
her, to protect her, and that in turn meant she needed someone to value her.
Meghan couldn't have explained her feelings to that degree, not just then, but
she felt no outrage that the captain was making use of her body, no resentment
towards him as she would have if she'd been back in her own time. This was the
way of things here, and if she was going to survive she needed to rapidly
If she thought in
historical terms, in fact, women had been trading their body to men for
protection for eons. Perhaps it was even instinctive, in a way. But she wasn't
really thinking at that moment. She was seized with the sensations of his thick
cock inside her, and his dark eyes above her, and his tongue in her mouth, and
his hips pressing against her upraised buttocks. The weight of her body on her
still bound, crossed arms was a constant reminder of just how helpless she was
as his hips ground against her, then began to move in
“So... tight!” he gasped,
hips working faster, harder.
Meghan moaned as his hips
began to strike her more forcefully, as his thick cock penetrated deep into her
belly, the head punching against the back wall of her sex with every thrust.
Her thighs ached as the tendons strained with her position, her legs spread out
wide to either side. The table rocked beneath her as he thrust harder. Then his
lips were on hers again, his tongue sliding between her teeth. Only now her tongue rose to caress it in
His fingers continued to
slide through her hair, while his other hand slipped up to knead her breast.
Her insides began to churn, a strange dark wall of sensual heat building within
her as his cock moved in and out. Her tongue and his twisted within her mouth
and her insides began to ache from the force of his rapid thrusts.
He drew up and back,
standing straight, his hands on her thighs again. He gripped her legs, fingers
like steel as they surrounded her soft flesh, and jerked her hips up to meet
his strokes. Again and again and again he jerked her up against him as her
breathing became more and more ragged.
She had a wild, desperate
thought that it seemed incredible that she could become so aroused so quickly,
especially given her situation, but her mind and body seemed to have fallen
back on instinct, and with the powerful strokes driving his cock deep inside
her she soon realized she was on the verge of orgasm.
He jerked her hips up
again, raising her buttocks off the table, her legs jerking wide to either side, and the orgasm struck. The strain, the ache in
her thighs seemed to resonate with her pussy, with her clit, and she arched
back, her head rolling helplessly, bonelessly,
beneath her as the orgasm lashed her senses.
Then the captain dropped
her buttocks, dropping his body atop hers, and began to thrust with an even
more aggressive, powerful stroke. He grabbed her hair, his lips crushing hers
as he thrust in faster, shorter strokes that stretched her orgasm out and
elevated to something so intense she wanted to scream.
The pleasure rolled over
her in a long, endless, mind shattering wave as the muscles in her body spasmed and snapped, and she felt her hips bucking up
against him as she impaled himself on his stiff cock, glorying in the sensual
pleasure pouring over her.