I felt a pleasure in my being even as I cried, a pleasure that exploded in climax even as he, himself, dropped his scum within my helpless body.I felt a pleasure in my being even as I cried, a pleasure that exploded in climax even as he, himself, dropped his scum within my helpless body. "See?" he smiled as he slid off of me. "She likes it. Take her. I need a new maidservant. We'll train her good." The others laughed and nodded. I learned my Master's name was "Styur." I was thrown over the back of a horse, one of our horses that they had captured alive in the raid. My crying was ignored, as was the blood of my deflowering streaming down my legs. We rode on horseback for many miles. We arrived at their camp, a collection of caves and huts housing maybe fifty Centaurs total. I was there removed from the pack animal that carried me and led to his house. "Uma!" Styur shouted. "I have a gift for you. She's difficult, but you can break her." The door opened and a Centaur woman looked out. Her face was ugly, the result of a burn I was to learn some time later. Nor was her smile kind. "She's pretty," she said. "Yes, I'll do wonderful things with this one. A worthy gift, Styur." She turned to a box and pulled out a collar, such as one would fit a dog, and wrapped it around my neck. |