Taken in the Field WIP *NSFW, slavery, nudity, light violence, sex*

Discussion in 'The Big Bookshelf (Library)' started by Leatherchain, Aug 19, 2018.

  1. Leatherchain Member

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    Taken in the field pt1 WIP
    By Leatherchain

    I relax my grip on the bar as we stop, standing in place. The straps leading from the grip pole to the sledge remain straight, but not taut. We can rest a few minutes before resuming our task of hauling the rocks from the field uphill to the village.

    Other girls struggle by, carrying rocks to the sledge. Even though the morning weather is still cool, I can feel sweat running down my back and gathering under my breasts. Pulling the sledge isn’t too hard, but the exertion still causes me to build up a sweat. This will be our second trip of the morning, and my body is still getting used to the strain.

    I wonder if the other girls sweat and strain like I do. I doubt it. They aren’t as big as I am. I sneak a peek at the girl to my right. She is only inches away, close enough to touch, if we were allowed. She is older than I am, with just a touch of pre-mature grey starting at her temples. It shows prominently, as her dark hair is in a braid falling forward past her collar and over her shoulder. Though older, I think she is pretty. She has big, muscular legs and buttocks, perfect for this task. Still, she breathes heavily around the wooden gag-bit in her mouth, and her naked breasts heave as she breathes. I can’t see the two girls behind us without turning my head. I won’t do that.

    Our Master walks slowly into view. I make sure to keep my eyes low, but I follow his movement. He moves slowly, but with self assurance, almost lazy, but with determined purpose. It’s hard to describe, but mesmerizing to watch. He moves like a great beast, casually but seemingly ready to pounce at any moment. My Master is hard to pin down. He seems a kind enough man, though in truth, I haven’t spent enough time under his direct supervision to know for sure.

    I say ‘my Master’, but technically we are communal property and belong to all of the men of the village. Still, I think of him as ‘my Master’. He is an elected chieftain of the village, so can claim me as well as any. Of course, he has his own private slaves, but all of the communal slavegirls are his to command. And he is the one who paid for me. I was purchased with a lot of 17 other girls, but he chose us. He gave the coins to the slavetrader who sold us. It was his feet that I kissed as he placed the rope coffle around my neck, marking us as his property. And it is he that I most often dream about serving as I lay bound at night with the other field slaves.

    My Master walks towards us. There hasn’t been time enough for the other slaves to fill the sledge, so I know that he is not going to lead us back up the hill. I feel nervous and hope that he is in a good mood. He seems a kind Master, but even a kind man can sometimes be in a foul mood, especially if he did not sleep well, or his breakfast didn’t sit right, or one of his slavegirls was not properly pleasing. I did not wish to feel his wrath.

    He stops beside the slave to my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him reach out and caress her face. He steps closer, his body touching hers. He weighs and squeezes her breasts, playing with them. My pulse quickens as he begins to explore her body. I cannot see his hands, but I can hear her reactions, small gasps and whimpers. Her bare left arm presses against my right, and I can feel her body convulse one time.

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    Then, he steps to his right, reaches up, and squeezes my right breast. Oh Master! Master! My nipple gets hard and swollen, and he rolls it between his finger and thumb with practiced elegance before squeezing and kneading the whole breast again. His left hand is doing the same to the left breast of the other slave, enjoying and comparing them. I can’t believe that he is touching me! Is he actually choosing one of us for some mid-morning pleasure? Pick me! Please, Master! Pick me!

    Now, both of his hands are on me! Both of my nipples are hard as stones as he fondles my breasts. I am wet between my legs and it’s hard to breathe. My world turns upside down as he lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. He is rugged of feature. His nose is large and wide and has been broken and healed. He needs a shave. He is beautiful. His eyes are half closed, but intense, a deep grey that penetrates my very being to its core and makes me feel weak before him. They are calm and stormy, powerful and perhaps a little sad. Let me soothe your sadness, Master, if only for a little while.

    He strokes the back of his hand over my cheek and brushes my hair behind my ear. Paradise. He fondles my earlobe and my breath catches in my throat and butterflies do battle in my stomach. I stare at him, not able nor allowed to look away, as his hand trails down my neck and throat, over the collar that proclaims me his property. I could be nothing else.

    Now his hands are back on my breasts, lifting and weighing them, thumbs lazily tracing the circles of my aureolas, rubbing over my hard nipples as the sea crashes against rocks in my blood. I fall ever deeper into his eyes. Master! Master, please!

    I can hear whimpering, gurgling noises and realize that they are coming from me. I had not liked the wooden bit strapped tight in my mouth, nor understood its purpose other than to remind me that I am a work-animal, but now I am thankful for it. It keeps me from breaking rules and speaking without permission. Without it, I would scream my love and loyalty and passion, begging to be touched, sobbing my need in an incoherent babbling that I could not control.

    I have no control over my body or mind. He does. I am frozen, stone still, unable to move, until he decides to move me. He controls every fiber of my being with his touch and his eyes. I am his, totally. There is no one else in the world except for him and me. Me, sobbing and begging at his feet while he towers above me, alone in my soul, as I stare into his eyes and he touches me as he likes.

    He is moving now, to my side, his left hand still on me. Don’t move your head to look at him, stupid girl! Hold position. He hasn’t given you permission to move. Please, Master! Please let me look at you! I stare at the world before me: the field, the trees beyond, the naked slavegirls toiling in the sun, and the few men guarding over them. I see none of it. My world is bright and warm and pulsing, and there is no one but him.

    He is at my side, and his right hand traces patterns up and down my back as his left takes both breasts together. His hand trails down and squeezes my ass cheeks, caressing them. There is a dull, throbbing sweet ache as my nipples are squeezed together in his left hand. His thumb plays with a nipple and I stop breathing, my hands gripping the sledge pole tight.

    He pulls his head close to mine, and sniffs the skin of my neck. Somehow, my head is to the side and my neck exposed to him. His nose touches my ear, and the stiff hair of his short beard scratches at the exposed flesh of my neck. My breath is ragged. I struggle to stay upright. Don’t feint! Don’t feint! Oh please, Master! Please, please, please, please, please…

    His head is no longer close. I open my eyes. When did I close my eyes? Blood rushes to my nipples and my breasts throb when he releases a nipple that I did not realize he had been pinching. His hand travels down my stomach and it quivers and spasms uncontrollably. Please! I feel his palm cover my belly, his fingers touching the smooth, bare skin of my pubis. My asscheeks squeeze involuntarily, trapping the hand that had been exploring their interior, the finger that had been rubbing my anus.

    His hand slides down over my pussy. Oh please, Master! My breath is short. I can’t get enough air. Two fingers slide between my labia, slick with the juices of my need to serve. MASTER! They find my clitoris, rubbing around it, stroking back and forth, controlling it. Controlling me. MASTER! MASTER!MASTERMASTER! And then they enter me, filling me. MAAAAASSTERRRRRR!

    My world turns red. All I see is throbbing! All I feel is pleasure! My Master’s two fingers stroke inside of me, my labia open, my clitoris throbbing against the palm of his hand. AaaaAAAAHHHhhh! I need release! It’s been so long! Don’t cum! You haven’t been given permission to orgasm! Please, Master! Pleeeaaase!

    His fingers are sliding out. NOoohoho! Master, please! They slide over and around my clit AAAaaaahhhhhh!, and they are gone. My world is empty.

    His hand is under my chin, two wet fingers and a strong thumb turning my face to look at him. I want to fall into his gaze again, to drown in his presence. A thick finger pumps twice in my anus and is removed, two knuckles sliding out of my gripping rectum and trailing up to the cleft above my butt. When did he do that? How did I not notice?

    He is gazing at me. I want to look down, but can’t. I am crying. His hand is rubbing and squeezing my ass reassuringly. He is so generous and kind and powerful. He is everything I could ever want in a Master, and I am not good enough for him. I am a greedy and selfish slave. This whole time he gave me, a mere slave, the greatest pleasure, and not once did I think of how best to please him. I am ashamed. I want to be more for him. I am numb.

    And then he smiles at me. It is a half-smile, warm and generous. There is a light in his eyes, and I know that he is not displeased. Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you! He fondles a breast and a buttock at the same time, and then ducks underneath the leather strap attaching the pole to the sledge. My head already turned, I watch him as far as I can. I feel his hand gently sliding across both of my buttocks as he walks by, and then he is gone.

    I stand, silent and unmoving, lost in the memory of my Master’s touch. In the distance, a sharp slap and the cry of a girl being struck brings me back to reality. I turn my head forward and hear the whip fall twice more. My Master is behind me now, touching the other two girls.

    What was I thinking? What was I hoping for? Did I really believe that my Master would choose me, even for just a mid-morning tryst? He is a CHIEFTAIN! He has girls that are trained to his specific desires. For anything else, he can choose from dozens of the communal slaves. If he wanted the use of another man’s slavegirl, I doubt any of the men of the village would deny him.

    So why did I believe, for even a moment, that he might choose me? I’m plain. The slave next to me is prettier than me, and she isn’t good enough for Master. The girls behind me are prettier, younger, their flesh tighter.

    If Master chooses one of us pulling the sledge, it will be one, or both, of them. I can hear them reacting to his touch, the same as me, the same as the slave to my right. Any girl would act the same. He gave me no special attention. He just wanted to check all of his options. It is his right.

    Still, he did touch me. In those few moments, he gave me the greatest of pleasures. And he smiled at me! I will hold that memory till the end of my days. I don’t know if it was humour, or if he enjoyed the way I look or reacted. It doesn’t matter. My Master smiled. At me. In some small way, I gave him pleasure, and that is all that a girl can hope for.

    At the very least, I did not displease him. I could be screaming like the slut in the field being whipped. I have no reason to be unhappy. To the contrary, I should feel overjoyed.

    My work isn’t too hard. My Master is not cruel. My Master touched me, deeply and sexually. I gave him some pleasure, and even made him smile. And I will get to listen to him enjoy the girls behind me while I rest. I truly hope he enjoys them. My Master deserves that.

    I can imagine what that will be like. I can hear them now, but it will be so much better when he actually puts them to their purpose. They will be much louder, and I will be able to imagine what they are feeling. And I hope he makes noise. I’ve never been close enough to hear my Master as he takes a slave, but I hope that he grunts, or slaps flesh, or even talks, Please talk, Master, telling them what to do or what he will do to them.

    Oh, my Master! I’m getting wet again. This is so exciting. So, arousing. I can’t help it. The thought of my Master fucking a girl so close to me It could have been me is too much to contain. Even though I am jealous, I know I will listen intently, enjoying the sound, enjoying the feel of the tether lines getting taut and slack as the bodies strain against the sledge draw pole.

    I will probably commit the experience to memory. I won’t be able to get it out of my head. Imagine that it is you in his grasp. You giving him pleasure with your body. Oooohhh! It will repeat in my head, over and over, with the vivid images of sweaty bodies enjoined, my Master controlling her completely Controlling you. When you see it, it will be you over the sound of skin slapping together, moans and grunts.

    I’m in need. I’m thankful once again for the wooden gag-bit. And now I am thankful for the pole that I grip, giving my hands a job, keeping me from touching myself. I can hear the slave next to me moaning and whimpering. She is like me, another slut in need, dreaming of our Master’s touch.

    It won’t last. The scene is just too much. I can barely contain the thought. I’m still wimpering. And he hasn’t even started yet. It’s only been brief moments since his hands left my body. Control yourself! I must finish the days work. I can’t! I must be a good girl for my Master.

    I will control myself. For my Master. As long as I can. But I know that tonight, in the dark, my need will overpower my will. I will break. Stuck between the naked, sweaty bodies of the other bound slavegirls, Perhaps next to the girl my Master uses I will touch myself in the dark. I will touch my breasts, my belly. I will suck my fingers, and imagine my Master. I will use them to touch my clitoris, to penetrate my vagina, perhaps even my anus, as my Master did. I will remember his touch, and I will lose the battle to control my need. I am weak, and I know it. I am a slave. I will break the rules and orgasm without permission, and I only hope that I am quiet enough to not attract the attention of a man or the ire of a girl who will tell a man. It will be worth it. The whipping will be worth it.

    Perhaps the girl next to me will do the same. How could she not? I want to look at her, to see her as desperate as me. Maybe she will be coffled next to me. Girls who work together are often coffled together at night, as a convenience to our Masters. Then I could see her need, watch her touch herself, as I will surely do. Perhaps...

    I adjust my tongue on the bit and swallow. Perhaps...we could touch each other. I have seen other girls couple at night. I have never felt the desire to do so myself, but I have never felt the overwhelming sexual need that I do right now. It would not be the same as serving a man, but maybe we can help relieve each other. Sometimes the night guards will even allow it, openly. And she is so pretty.

    I steel my resolve and gather my courage. Tonight in the coffle, under cover of darkness, if she is next to me, Please be next me I will do it. YES! I will reach out and touch her. If she will allow, I will touch her as our Master touched both of us. I can imagine the taste of her mouth, the feel of her hand on m...

    What?! How?!

    Strong hands are on me. Could he know my thoughts? What was I thinking?!

    My Master’s hands are on my hips. He pulls in close. I can feel the rough texture of his trousers against by buttocks. A bulge of linen is between my asscheeks. Is that...?

    Fingers grip the hair at the base of my neck, and I am bent forward, my head cocked upward to stare out at the field. I see nothing. And then I feel my Master’s other hand reach down to the bulge of linen PleaseMasterPleaseMasterPleaseMaster and release what is hidden there, struggling to get out.

    Something smooth and hard slides between my legs, Ohhh! rubbing across my slick labia pleasepleasepleaseplease! The bulbous head, larger than I thought, slips across my clitoris Ohohahah!

    The fingers in my hair hold me steady, as my Master thrusts lightly with his pelvis. The head of his cock taps my clitoris repeatedly AhAhAh! And finally, his hand adjusts his hard cock MAAASTER PLEEEASE!, and my Master penetrates me!

    AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! I have never felt so filled!