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Slave
By Mommints

The usual disclaimers follow:  The character of Ardeth Bay belongs to Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios. No infringement intended. All other characters belong to the author.

This story is most certainly rated NC-17. 

Imagine if you will a matriarchal society of women, not unlike the Amazons, whose purpose is to capture warriors and use them for their own pleasure.  These women thrive on testing the boundries of strength and control of the Medjai, their talents in the bedroom exceptional, their control over their own desires unbelievable.

Imagine the consequences when the queen of this tribe of women captures the Medjai chieftain and learns a lesson in more than just having control…

I purposely kept the description of the woman unclear, perhaps allowing you the reader to lose yourself in the fantasy that Ardeth is your own slave.  I hope you enjoy reading this and of course, feedback is always appreciated.  Email Mommint@msn.com.

~*~

There had been an ambush…

His patrol was returning to the oasis, confident that their eternal duty as protectors over Hamunaptra had once again been performed more than satisfactorily when they were attacked.

Ardeth and his men had fought bravely but this unknown adversary was too large in number and too skilled in warfare.  He vaguely remembered ordering his commanders to perform a flanking maneuver before he was captured.

Tackled from behind, he fell off his horse but managed to unsheathe his scimitar, intent on fighting to the death.  The soldiers quickly surrounded him, subduing him in a matter of minutes.  There had been a searing pain in his side then a blow to his head…

When consciousness fully returned, Ardeth immediately tried to move, testing his body, his senses alert.  He determined he was laying on something soft, most likely a pallet or bed, the feel of silk almost comforting beneath his skin.  A quick mental assessment determined he was shirtless, his arms and legs immobile and weighted with heavy chains.  His hands had been placed over his head, his legs spread wide apart and a blindfold hampered his sight.  He lifted his head and clamped down on the sense of panic that nipped at his mind, fighting the overwhelming sense of vulnerability.  Whoever had taken him as a prisoner…

“You must relax,” came a disembodied voice, soothing and calm as it spoke almost directly into his ear.  “It will be so much better for you if you relax.”  Ardeth felt the pallet shift as a weight bore down on one side, and then felt a hand rest on his chest.  The sensation of something cool dribbled onto his skin made him flinch and struggle.  He heard a low chuckle. 

“I would try and welcome you but I have a feeling you would reject any overtures made,” the voice theorized.  “So I am to prepare you and oh yes, leave the blindfold on.  I trust you experience no pain from your wound, Ardeth Bay?” The hand slowly and methodically rubbed what smelled like scented oil into his skin and Ardeth reacted, trying to arch his body away.  He focused on the question, confused as to how his identity was known, even more puzzled as liquid warmth stole through his battle-weary body.  It was almost lovingly smeared over his nipples, eliciting a groan through clenched teeth when the fingers teased them into awareness. 

“You know my name,” Ardeth ground out, his voice raspy as the hand glided lower, stroking over the defined planes of his abdomen, the fingers toying with his navel.  He tried to twist his body away from this intimate touch, a delicate laugh coming from his unseen captor as the hand now lingered at the drawstrings of his pants. 

“You have not answered my question but there is no need.  Time grows short and I must finish the preparation,” the voice stated.  Suddenly Ardeth felt the drawstrings released, more unseen hands join the first pair and he was quickly divested of the last article of clothing.  “Your wound has been tended to, your body cleaned.  I know you would think on the welfare of your men so be at ease, they are being well cared for…although some of your commanders required the attention of more than one attendant.”

Unsure of his response, what words he may have said were lost when he felt the cool evening air skim over his heated skin.  He had no chance to react before the hands were once again massaging the oil into his body, the pressure of the fingers more intense as they soothed away his aches.  One pair of hands turned into two as they glided over the muscular bulge of his thighs, his knees and down to his calves.  The sensual feel of the skin rubbing against skin, the friction and heat from the two meeting lulled Ardeth into an almost dream-like state of being.  Dimly he realized the oil must contain some sort of drug or aphrodisiac, for there was nothing he could do except enjoy the decadent ministrations.  He was unable to protest as the hands roamed up his body, oiling the tense muscles in his arms and shoulders.  Tricked into a false sense of well being, Ardeth wasn’t aware that the massage had stopped, the effects of it dulling his warrior senses. 

“I remind you again, Medjai.  You must relax,” the voice stated for what appeared to be the last time.  Lost in a euphoric haze, Ardeth barely felt the pallet adjust again as the weight was lifted. He could hear them leave and tried to ignore the helpless, vulnerable feelings assaulting him, his mind screaming a warning for him to move, to fight the chains that bound him.  Instead the heat from the oil lulled him into a sense of security, of erotic images that danced through his mind as it remembered those hands playing across his body.  With each breath he took, the vaguely familiar scent of an herb saturated his being, invading his lungs.  His arms that were once stretched taut against the chains relaxed slightly and with a ragged sigh, Ardeth let himself slip from this reality.

Time passed. 

How much Ardeth couldn’t be sure.  He had been dozing but awoke with a start when he felt the presence of another, then experienced the feather-light touch of fingers thread through his hair.  The pallet sagged down once again.  Since his sight was temporarily lost, his other senses had become more acute.  He could smell the delicate perfume of whoever was now by his side; the fragrance balanced just enough to be sweet but not sickening.  He could feel the person shift, determined it had to be a woman and his guess proven correct a moment later when he felt the tips of her soft hair brush his arms.  The weight of her moved down his torso, nipples rubbing against his heated skin, teasing him and awakening his smoldering desire.  Suddenly she straddled his hips and Ardeth contained a groan of need, amazed that his once flaccid manhood now sprang to life.  It surged up from the dark nest of curls at the juncture of his thighs, hard and throbbing and he heard a low laugh of appreciation.  He could feel her supple nakedness rub down his hard length, teasing him, enticing him to respond as their slick bodies rubbed against the other’s.  A small sound of frustration slid from his lips when she finally came to rest, nestled between his strong thighs.  He felt her warm breath wash over him and knew she was hovering over his jutting shaft.

A hand touched the base of his thickened staff, gently grasping it as another hand gently cupped his testes.  He felt his twin sacks caressed, then rolled gently and time seemed to suspend itself, his body tense with anticipation. He waited in part agony, part ecstasy for what would surely come next, and then a piercing ache clenched his heart when he felt the light touch of her tongue on his manhood.  Senses and awareness heightened, Ardeth’s body immediately responded, his breath came out in a ragged gasp and he strained against his imprisonment.  The tongue swirled over the head of his shaft, seeking, probing the opening until it greedily lapped up a drop of his essence that had leaked out.  Ardeth hissed when he felt the scorching moisture of her lips and tongue finally envelop his engorged member.  His body almost arched off the pallet when her mouth traveled the long hard length of him, up and down….up and down.  He pulled against the chains, wanting to free his hands so they could come down and tangle through her hair, guide her mouth as it traversed over the length of him.  He uttered dark curses when he felt her tongue come underneath his manhood, tracing the long thick vein that ran beneath.  He thrust his hips upwards even as he felt her mouth come down, taking him entirely into the hot, moist cavern of her mouth. 

Ardeth felt the telltale signs of his pending release, his body shaking, his mind unable to focus on anything except touch and smell…of action and response.  His mysterious captor tormented him, carried him along to the brink of his orgasm, wickedly leaving him on the edge.  Ready to be pushed one way or the other.  She must have sensed his pain mixed with pleasure, must have known how close he was to his release and her mouth captured him again, encouraging him to discharge his ejaculate.  With a hoarse shout, Ardeth’s body erupted, his seed spurting forth and it was received without hesitation.  She lapped at him, suckling, coaxing the last bit of moisture from his body and licked away every drop of his essence. 

Ardeth’s last coherent thought should have been of escape.  But instead he collapsed against the pallet, his body sated and exhausted.  As he quickly succumbed to sleep, he never felt the woman shift back over his body, or the hand that came up to gently caress his face.  He never knew she bent over him and placed a light, sweet kiss on his lips before she took her leave of him.

“Till tomorrow night my handsome slave…” she whispered. 

~*~

There was a woman…

Time had dissolved down into moments of touch, sound and smell. 

The passing hours of the day were marked from each time the pallet sagged with the weight of his unseen caregivers as they tended to him.  During those brief lucid moments, he was cleaned, fed and bathed.  While they checked his wound and changed the bandage, his mind struggled to be free from the hallucinogenic effect of the oil used the previous night.  He found consciousness brought disjointed memories; of an encompassing heat and raging desire that shook his body to its core. 

As evening approached, his body was prepared as before with the oil massage then the caregivers would leave.  On his second night, he tried to fight the effects.  Freedom was always in the front of his mind and he waged a war between obtaining it or languishing in the parody pf a prison surely no warden would consider anything less than luxurious.  His struggles had yielded the discovery that he was no longer bound by chains but with ropes.  Instead of feeling the fiber cut into the skin around his wrists and ankles, he felt the texture of silk.  He experimented with one arm, and felt a blessed sense of relief when the limb moved lower, but it was still not able to rest by his side.  If he truly was a prisoner of these mysterious soldiers, their methods of caring for one were certainly odd. 

It was the nights that would forever burn in his memory…of when she came to him.  He was still blindfolded, but her now familiar fragrance assailed his senses, making his blood stir and he would shift on the pallet, at war with his feelings.  He demanded to know of his men, concerned for their welfare but she always avoided giving him a reply.  He would order his release, threatening to call forth the power of the Twelve tribes of the Medjai and destroy the encampment.  Her wicked response was to graze his inflamed body with the smooth texture of her soft skin, the feel of it like silk draped over hard muscled steel.  She would straddle him, teasing his throbbing member to life and bend over to whisper dark and erotic words in his ear.  Her hips would momentarily hover the damp curls of her womanhood over the head of his straining cock, undulating her body, letting him feel the slick outer folds of her femininity.  She instinctively knew how far to push him, perhaps even felt remorseful when he would strain to capture her hips with his hands so he could impale her with his rock hard shaft.  She rewarded him with the play of her hot, wet mouth, tracing his length, urging him towards a shattering release again and again…always taking his essence into her mouth, as if ingesting his very soul.

Sated and spent, Ardeth would collapse onto the pallet, struggling to stay coherent, as she would finally take her leave of him.  Deep in the recess of his mind, he was amazed she never took pleasure for herself and that fact alone made his captivity all the more extraordinary.

The third day his imprisonment changed…

~*~

And then there was pleasure…

Ardeth awoke and heard voices, disjointed pieces of conversation.

“You gave him too much last night.”  A new voice gently reprimanded.  “He’s slept almost the entire day and time grows short.”

“I may have misjudged the dosage but the results will still be the same. He will be awake soon and ready for you, my queen…” the familiar voice of his care giver replied earnestly. 

“Leave us, I will finish tending to him this night.  You are wanted in the third tent where another one of your ‘misjudgments’ is unable to wake up,” the first voice remarked as the pallet sagged down next to Ardeth’s shoulder. 

“It is not my fault the sub-commander is a very large man,” the second voice defended itself as it grew fainter and left the area. 

Ardeth heard the long drawn out sigh of patience and then felt hands rest briefly on his chest.   “Wake up for me, warrior,” the voice pulled Ardeth free from the mist of his recuperative slumber.  He liked the pitch of it, the husky timbre and could hear the smile in it as he felt a hand slip underneath his neck, lifting his head up.  The cool rim of a cup touched his lips and without hesitation, Ardeth opened his mouth and drank deeply.  The fluid flooded his empty stomach and made it roll from hunger.  She must have heard the noise and started to feed him, offering him small pieces easily chewed since his hands were still tied.  He automatically checked his limbs, once again amazed to find himself bound by silken scarves only at the wrists, his legs were free.  His arms were lower than the day before and now rested out at his sides, a position not uncomfortable but still prohibited any true freedom. 

“Your reward for being able to relax, just as you have been instructed to since the first day,” the voice answered his unspoken question. Another piece of food touched Ardeth’s lips but he refused.

“What of my men?”

“A question asked each day, when has the answer changed?” The pallet dipped, the body shifted and Ardeth felt the oil once again poured onto his chest.  He remained immobile, admitting only to himself the massage was most pleasurable, a prelude of what was to come.  Against his will, his body responded to the touch, the heat of the oil relaxing his muscles, soothing his anxiety.  He had vivid memories from the previous nights when she would join him on the cushions and tantalize him with her body.  The hour of the day must indeed be late for the hands rubbed his muscles quickly and vigorously, as if they needed to complete the task as soon as possible.

“I will break free,” Ardeth quietly challenged, a false sense of bravado that dissipated from the efforts of the oil inundate his skin. He sighed and felt himself fall deeper into a relaxing almost meditative state.  For a moment his anger surfaced, directed at the lethargic feeling that stole through his limbs, numbing his will and undermining his determination.  He pulled against his restraints but only half-heartedly; sensing something different was going to happen tonight.  Allah have mercy on him for he found himself looking forward to it with eagerness. 

“You could,” the voice allowed as the pallet moved again.  “But then I believe curiosity outweighs the yearning for freedom this night.  I shall enjoy the challenge of making you forget all else but the feel of my touch.”

His eyes still blindfolded, his senses and body captured, Ardeth almost groaned when the scent of her perfume suddenly wafted through the air.  A familiar twinge of excitement coursed through his being in the realization that she had moved down to his feet and started crawling up his body.  She teased him with her aroused nipples, dragging them across him as she slithered over his enflamed skin.  He felt her shift again, straddle his legs and he felt the dampness from the curls hiding her womanhood brush over the head of his awakening shaft.  It sprang up hard and erect from the triangle of dark curls at the juncture of his thighs, swollen with need. 

“Ela’na inta,” Ardeth hissed through clenched teeth, his hips involuntarily arching upwards.  He felt her tease the head of his manhood, guiding it around the moist outer lips of her womanhood, letting the dew of her body settle on its tip.  He pulled his arms against the silk restraints, felt them give a little and allowed the sense of triumph surge through his body.  “Why do you do this to me?” he raged halfheartedly. 

Her reply was to move up, the silken strength of her thighs hugging his ribs then suddenly, the blindfold was removed. Ardeth’s eyes fluttered open and he fought to clear his blurred vision, the dimly lit interior of the tent jarring to the senses.  It took a few moments for him to see and for a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of his captor’s face; eyes beautifully expressive, hair long and luxurious as the finest silk, a face that boasted of her unknown and ancient heritage. He lifted his head, straining to see her but she shifted back down his body again, the movements slow and sensual.  A dark curtain of hair dragged across his body in the wake of her descent and before Ardeth could draw in another ragged breath, her mouth, so wonderfully hot and wet, captured his shaft.  It devoured his length until he was completely encased within the cavern of her mouth and she savored the taste and feel of him with a barely controlled frenzy.  Ardeth’s response was to pull again at his restraints, his heart beating wildly in his chest as her tongue snaked around his cock while she slowly withdrew.  It lapped at his swollen head, slowly milked a pearl of his essence that appeared from the tip. He looked down and watched as she pleasured him, pulling once more as he felt the scarves weaken.  Her mouth plunged downwards, then again withdrew, her hand following the wet trail left from her lips and tongue, applying gentle pressure to his rock hard shaft.  She took him deep for the last time, the slow withdrawal shredding what control Ardeth had left and he surged up against what bound him with a Herculean effort.

“Ela’na inta.”

Fueled by an almost obsessive need, the muscles in his arms bulged with power and a barely restrained savagery.  The knots around his wrists pulled tight biting into his skin until the sound of ripping fabric heralded his freedom.  His eyes dark and glittering with burning intensity, Ardeth was finally free of his confinement.  Before she could recover, he levered himself upright and grasped her hips, pulled her willing body forward then back, impaling her in one fluid stroke.  Her body arched and she cried out at the sudden pleasurable intrusion. Her eyes slid shut and he felt her body contract around his manhood, adjusting to his considerable size and girth. 

Ardeth fell back to the pallet but anchored his hands on her waist, encouraging her to ride his hard length.  She obediently followed his silent commands, her body plunging and bucking, rising, falling, her ample breasts bouncing until she fell forward, her hands resting on his chest.  Giving her no time to recover, Ardeth expertly shifted their bodies until she was underneath him, subservient and imprisoned by him resting between her legs.  He felt the first signs of the familiar downward spiral into oblivion from the oil and knew time was running out.  He eased his rigid massive length into her, inch by tantalizing inch, pushing himself so deeply that he could feel the soft curls of her body mesh against his own.  He heard her ecstatic cry from his penetration and was astonished at how she accepted him, her body so pliant, accepting his shaft till it rooted deep inside of her.  He rocked against her, pushing, pushing then changed the tempo to pull out and plunge into her body with long, sure strokes.  At one point her hands came up and curled around his neck but all Ardeth felt was every turgid, throbbing muscle of her sheath glide over his shaft.  Bracing his weight on his forearms, Ardeth hung his head until it almost rested on the swells of her breasts.  His hips pistoned into her body with a mindless surrender, and she met him for every stroke, every thrust; she moved with him, whispered to him dark erotic words of praise and dug her nails into his back.  Ardeth felt the beginnings of his orgasm and suddenly it consumed his mind and body; his groin tightened as his seed erupted in one long hot blast.  He jerked his head backwards, the cords in his neck standing out in relief, a groan slipping past clenched teeth.  He felt her body convulse around his throbbing manhood a moment later, her body tightened under hm and heard her soft cry dissolve into a whimper as her own orgasm consumed her. 

With one last mighty thrust, Ardeth poured himself into her, felt the first tendrils of darkness nip around the edges of his mind and he slowly stilled his movements. Brow furrowed in confusion, he stared down at her face, arrogantly pleased with himself that she looked well loved and sated.  Yet one nagging question pricked his conscience, making rest almost impossible until it was answered.

“Why?” Ardeth asked hoarsely. He never heard the reply, the last remnants of his strength abruptly leaving him and suddenly, he pitched forward into her arms, unconscious. 

~*~

Finally a rescue…

Three riders stood on a ridge overlooking the valley below, watching as a black tide of warriors washed over the remains of their encampment.  Soon they carried out the limp bodies of their comrades from the tents and spirited them away to a nearby village.  When the chieftain was taken away, his dark head lolling to one side in the arms of his men, the queen urged her horse forward a few steps, her gaze focused on his face knowing she would see him this one last time.

“We must leave,” the captain of the soldiers muttered to the attendant.  “If the Medjai were to see us…”

“We can wait,” the woman argued softly as she kept a watchful eye on her mistress and waved off the captain’s concern.  The camp had been aware of the advance of the Medjai and had made the necessary measures for a quick retreat.  What she hadn’t counted on was finding the queen cradling the chieftain to her breast, her hands stroking back the long dark glossy tendrils of hair from his face as he slept contentedly in her embrace.  She didn’t question the situation nor admonish the love that she clearly saw on the other woman’s face…there had been no time.  And now, she couldn’t help but wonder how the loss of this slave would affect their society.      

Or wonder in the end, who had really been the slave?  

~*~

Translation:     

Ela’na inta – damn you