Wild Sorcery - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Night in Hosk

When I finished with the scraps the mistress thought proper to feed me, and licked the bowl clean in obedience to her instructions and her whip, she grabbed me by the hair and dragged me out of her kitchen. I followed as fast as I could on my chain-hobbled legs, whimpering as she pulled my hair at every stumble.

She led me to a narrow cupboard under the stairs and pulled it open.

“You sleep in here,” she snapped.

I had no chance to make any answer to that, for she shoved me in on my belly, then slammed the door shut. I heard a bolt slam home, locking me into that narrow pitch-black space.

It was a lot smaller than it looked from outside. Only a couple feet high and wide, but long enough for me to lie flat. Almost like a coffin, I thought with a shiver. Then I shivered again, but from cold: far from being stuffy, the cupboard had an opening to the outside, through which cold mountain air poured in, falling freezingly on my naked skin, for the mistress had never given me my dress back.

I curled up as best I could for warmth, and began to cry. What was wrong with all these dwarves? They were all fucking insane! The villains on the road, them I could understand; they robbed me and tortured me for profit and sport, but why were these other people using me so?! I was bewildered, and hurt, and cried myself to a shallow, uneasy sleep.

I was awoken by a gentle touch on my bare flank. I jerked awake, to see the scullery maid stooped in the cupboard door, my dress in her hand.

“Hello,” she said. “I thought you would want this. It gets cold at night.”

“Oh, thank you!” I said hoarsely. “Thank you very much!”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet!” she said with a giggle. She grabbed ahold of my feet, and dragged me out of the cupboard.

“Wait!” I cried. “What are you-”

She slapped a hand across my mouth, muffling my cries to moans.

“Shhh!” she hissed. “You don’t want to wake the mistress, do you? You don’t want to make her angry, do you?”

I most certainly did not! I shook my head. “Mm-mhm!”

“Good!” the scullery maid took her hand away from my mouth, then grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me up to my knees so I knelt before her. “If you want your dress, you have to work for it,” she said with a wicked grin: she drew her skirts up and pressed her pussy to my face. “I think you know what to do.”

I whimpered and turned my face away.

“Aww,” she said, disappointed, lowering her skirts. “Well, if you want to go back in the cupboard without your dress-”

I whimpered again, more urgently.

She giggled, then raised her skirt once more and pressed my mouth to her hairy pussy.

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and lightly slid my tongue across her.

“Go on!” she snapped, grabbing me by the hair and forcing my lips tighter against her pussy.

I moaned and reluctantly licked her, tasting her juices on my tongue.

“Go on!” she snapped again, jerking on my hair.

I slipped my tongue between her nether lips and slid it throug her pussy, rubbing across her clit; she shivered and moaned softly. “Oh, yes!” she gasped, grinding her pussy aginst me. “Do that!”

I licked her again and harder, thinking to get it over with as soon as I could. I sucked and licked, wriggling my tongue agaiinst her clit.

She arched her back and cried out as she came, pouring her juices over my tongue. I gagged, but afraid what she or the mistress of the house would do were I to spit it out upon the floor, I swallowed.

The scullery maid released me and I dropped to the floor, gasping for air and shivering, for I was still cold.

The scullery maid moaned softly to herself. “You are fine,” she said, crouching down beside me. “If I could, I’d keep you just for your tongue!” She giggled. “But I can’t.”

I looked pleadingly up at her. “Please,” I begged. “Please put my dress back on.”

“Well. . .” she said undecidedly. “It would be a shame to hide your body,” she ran a hand up my side to brush my breast. I moaned and wriggled away, making her laugh. “But a deal is a deal.” she picked up my dress and made me sit up so she could slip it back on me.

That done, she kicked me gently on the backside. “Back in your hole,” she said, pointing to the cupboard under the stairs.

Reluctantly, I wiggled back into the cold black box and she shut the door again. Abolt shot home, trapping me in there, a bound helpless slave until they decided to let me out.

Continued in Chapter 18