The musings of an author.
Mira lay on her stomach this time, her cheek and breasts and belly and thighs pressing against the downy blanket. Above her head, her wrists were bound together with scratchy rope that burned her skin when she tried to move. A hand stroked her back. The fingers were warm, soft as water, with an insistent touch.
"These Captives get lovelier every year," said a voice like a sweet, seductive cello. "Look at this one---such thick, black, silky hair." The hand lovingly touched her head. "Breasts like ripe bandy fruit . . ." The fingers stroked the plump edges of Mira's breasts where they bulged out from under her body. "Buttocks round and ready for fucking . . ." Two hands caressed Mira's ass. Mira moaned. She felt warm oil on her back, and the roomed filled with an intoxicating scent, like almonds, mangoes, and cum. The sweet voice laughed, and touched the wet spot between Mira's legs. "Good girl. See how she moistens. We'll fetch a good price for this one, Daro."
"Indeed," said the rough voice that Mira recognized from earlier scoldings. "She even creamed when I spanked her. This one is a prize."
"And in the Tir atmosphere, she'll become unspeakably lovely."
"Hmmm," grunted Daro, the rough one. "Silerna . . . The Captives are more beautiful than ever, yes, but many of them are disobedient and spoiled. Like you Loraine . . . Yes, whore, just try to speak. Give me an excuse to spank you, naughty girl. Hmm. I have a mind to give you to my husband as a gift. He loves the naughty ones."
Silerna laughed, the most beautiful music Mira had ever heard. "Alright," she said, and Mira knew she was speaking to her. "I know you understand us today. You will push up on your knees." Mira hesitated, and, too late, felt a hard stinging spank on her ass.
"You will do as you're told," grunted Daro. "And you will say 'Yes, Mistress.'"
"Yes, Mistress," gasped Mira, tears smarting her eyes. She pulled herself up onto her knees, her face still pressed into the bedcover and her bottom in the air, and the soft hands of Silerna touched her once again. They massaged warm oil into her back, her thighs, her buttocks. One finger gently circled her asshole, and then slowly penetrated. Mira felt a bolt of pleasure and desire, and she rocked on her knees, hoping to catch the soft hand against her clit.
The two Tiran women laughed. "You will have satisfaction after you are sold, little Captive," murmured Silerna. "Your master will satisfy you."
The next time that Mira opened her eyes, her vision had returned. She saw colors, shapes and a whole world both strange and familiar. She was in a round room, with walls made of interwoven fibers that looked like bamboo, brocade, and burgundy flower petals. The floor glowed with deep, soft colors, some of which Mira had never seen before on earth. Her bed was thick and purple, as sumptuous to look at as it was to lie on. Mira was lying on her back once again, her wrists and ankles chained to what she now knew were dark, carved-wooden bedposts. In this position, she was able to turn her head and see most of the room. Several yards away, on another purple bed, lay a girl with messy, dirty-blond hair. The girl's eyes were closed and she snored softly. Her arms were bound behind her back with thick, red rope, and she slept with her knees curled under her belly and her face turned to one side, the cheeks streaked with the trails of dried tears. Her skin was white and freckled, except the plump, painfully bright-red bottom which rested on her heels. "That must be Loraine," thought Mira. "She was spanked again." Her eyes were drawn to a simple chair made of dark oak which stood in the center of the room.
Mira heard multiple footsteps, a heavy tread and a light tread, and two women entered the room.