Chapter 9

It was night. There was no light in the room save for the glow from the hearth, where the fire had burned itself down to embers. Nathalie cringed in the deep shadows of the draperies that hung about the bed. She had jerked up onto her elbows at the first sound and watched in horror as the knob turned in the dim light. Slowly the door opened.

She shuddered as she saw the outlines of the man and the dog. It was Arne. There was no way to mistake the massive stooped shoulders or the tremendous height of the man. Carefully, he turned and locked the door behind him. Then he tied the dog's leash to the post.

She did not move. She did not even breathe. He peered into the shadows for a long moment and then came around to the side of the bed and pushed back the drapes.

"I thought for a moment that you had vanished," he said quietly.

She did not answer. So sickened with dread was she that she could do nothing but stare up at the man.

"You might thank me for letting you have time to adjust," he suggested.

She shuddered at the words. "I shall never adjust!" she answered with disgust.

"Yes you will, my dear," he said. "Have Astrid and Hedda not told you how easy it all becomes? They are really quite content, you know, as are all the others."

"I shall never be content," she hissed.

"And I suppose you do not even like the lovely gown Sara had made for you?" he asked with a trace of sarcasm. "You cannot tell me that you have felt nothing, for I would have to call you a liar."

"You may call me anything you like," she said, raising her head proudly. "I am not a carnal, vile animal but a child of God."

Arne snorted. "We will see," he answered as though she had delivered an interesting challenge.

He pulled back the coverlet and drew her forward, pulling up the gauze-like gown so fast that she could not stop him. Then he stood and skinned it quickly off of her, and she clasped her hands defiantly about herself to protest any further denuding.

"I am afraid you are a bit puny for fighting, Nathalie," he scolded, and with a wry grin, he upended her and jerked down the satin panties. She had, of course, expected him to remove the chemise first, since she was sitting up, and she was surprised by his act and had no defense prepared for it.

"Nooooo!" she wailed helplessly, and before the panties had dropped to the floor, he began unhooking the eyelets of her chemise.

"No! No! No!" she cried, and when she could not cross her arms with his huge hands in the way, she stuck out and dug her fingernails into his cheeks, slashing with more will power than strength.

"Eyiiiiii!" he cried as three long red gashes appeared from temple to jaw.

With one jerk, he ripped open the bodice and plunged his hands into the soft flesh of her breasts.

"Wild little bitch," he growled. "Duke and I prefer wild bitches. Mmmmmm! Nice, warm tits!"

"Get away!" she cried. "Leave me alone!"

He laughed-a sneering, cold, scornful laugh as he stretched her arm over to the post and hooked the chain to her wristlet.

"No!" she wailed.

"Yes," he hissed, feeling the tautness of her breast now that her arm was tugging it upward.

He took her other arm and chained it to the other post, then returned to feel the two raised melons pointing skyward.

"Ahhhhhh," he sighed. "When a woman has big boobs, there is nothing like raising her arms to bring them to attention. Then they demand to be sucked. Yes!"

One hand slid down to her belly as he lowered his mouth to the large, puffy nipple. With his lips parted, he grazed back and forth, teasing himself with the tempting taste of her. His tongue lapped lazily for a moment and then, with a moan, he sucked her in.

The dog was beginning to whimper now, leaping in the air for attention. His prick hung low as it stabbed out from its sheath.

Nathalie twisted from side to side, trying to evade the wildly erotic mouthing of her master. Her breast was hard and throbbing from the slobbering lips, and the hands had moved down from her belly to press against her hot, furred lips.

"No!" Her lament of woe wailed on and on through the night.

"Yes," whispered her master over and over as he slowly sank his finger into her weeping cunt.

She managed to jerk away from him, throwing her body violently from side to side.

"Unnnngh!" he granted, and the low, animal guttural of his voice was filled with anger.

He reached down and grabbed her leg, quickly jerking it to the post at the foot of the bed, where he chained her. In another moment, the other leg was pulled apart and then fastened.

"Noooooooo!" Her wail turned to a scream as her legs were parted. This is the worst, she thought. This was the insult she could not bear.

But it was not to be the worst, for the second her legs were secured, Arne buried his head in her groin and sank his big flat tongue in her meat.

"Eyiiiiiiiii!" she screamed, but the fire that gripped her was too hot to fight. She instantly knew that she would succumb to it. There was no resisting the hot wetness, the slithering sublimeness of its quivering tip against her throbbing bud. The only defense possible was to hide her passion from him, to somehow fool him into thinking she was not feeling the fiery sensations that were coursing through her veins.

"Uugh! Uugh!" he grunted as he devoured the scarlet meat.

He burrowed his face into her slit, his head weaving from side to side as he wallowed in the woman-smell of her, the woman-taste, the woman-feel. His trapped cock screamed in an agony of need but he could not pull his face from the feast of sensations. His tongue burrowed deep and finally stabbed hungrily into her cunt. When he could bear no more, he moaned in misery and pulled away from her.

Nathalie had held. She had not allowed herself to writhe or twist with the wild feeling of his suctioning lips. She did not cry out. In silence, she bore the terrible fire, and almost from the beginning, she prayed only for release. When he pulled his lips from her loins, she was so very near to that release that she nearly betrayed herself in her suffering. Had he not moaned so loud himself, he could not have helped but hear the whimper that escaped from her quivering lips.

He rose shakily from the bed and stood looking down at her for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, he stepped to the foot of the bed and unhooked the whining dog from the bed post. Wrapping the leash about his wrist several times to control the lunging animal, he allowed the dog to sniff the girl's gapping slit.

Nathalie jumped with a start as the cold nose burrowed into her throbbing meat. It brought bursts of fire that she could barely control. The cold, wet feel of him as he explored the length of her slit and burrowed into her cunt was a torture of sensual delight.

Then came the tongue, coarser, but somehow more delicate, the tip quivering and undulating with heady abandon. It curled into a tube, stabbing at her, sliding into her smoldering cavern, then flattening and riffling to sip of her juices.

Keep me quiet, she prayed. Just keep them from knowing.

Then the master pulled the dog away and commanded him to he low on his haunches and inch forward.

"Ahhhhh, good boy," he coaxed. "See how well trained he is, Nathalie? Here, I will guide his marvelous prick into you myself! You are a very lucky girl, my dear. The fine ladies of France would pay a fortune for a dog like this."

Nathalie knew that to speak would mean to betray herself, so she held her peace. Instead, she showed her defiance by closing her eyes and turning her head away.

Arne reached around the dog and slowly slipped his hand around the stabbing prick, allowing it to continue in its frenzied motions. His other hand reached down to spread the girl's privates. Then he leaned down and carefully guided the wildly stroking point to pierce her tight meat. She stiffened, arching her body violently as the slimy, scarlet dirk thrust its tip in a trauma of flurried jabs.

"Ahhhhhh!" Arne sighed as he watched the impaling lance punch into her cove.

The dog inched forward with agitated, restless jerks, but he stayed on his haunches and was not allowed to hump. Arne held his breath as the agitated prick slowly punched its way deeper and deeper into the tight cunt. When, at last, the insertion was complete, Arne quickly peeled off his tights and moved onto the bed, splaying his knees as he lowered his cock to the dog's rear.

"Unnnnnngh!" he groaned as he took his swollen organ in hand and teased it around the dog's asshole.

Nathalie did not watch. Her head was strained as far away from her body as she could manage, as though her brain refused to accept any part of the action being forced upon her body.

"Ohhhhhh!" her master moaned as he slowly sank his throbbing cock into the dog's puckered tunnel.

The dog, now trapped between cunt and cock, spasmed his own prick frantically into the girl as Arne reached down to feel the erotic connection.

"Fuck her, Duke," he ordered, and the prick instantly began stabbing with amazingly long strokes that brought waves of wild sensations to both girl and man at once. Neither moved at all, allowing the dog to carry the fire to them. Nor was the dog only an instrument of their lust, for Duke was panting in a convulsion of fire.

"Lick her tits, boy," the man ordered, and the dog began its slobbering ministrations mechanically, its tongue obeying the command while its brain remained fogged with its own private passion.

Nathalie's body was no longer a part of her. Even her brain was in a fever and, lost in throbbing hunger, she clamped her jaw tightly shut to hold the moans that desperately sought escape. The dog's soft belly pressed against her meat, never actually pulling away even for an instant. It quivered, jerked, crushed against her while the prick stabbed away on its own power.

The strokes were coming faster and shorter, the cum leaking from the tip to diffuse into her own weeping juices. The heat of his prick was like a fire branding her.

"Ohhhhh! Go Duke! Go Boy!" her master cried, and she could feel the bed vibrate as he humped into the frenzied animal.

She no longer cared. As the lust washed over her body, she felt herself slipping-drowning in the sea of inflaming lust, and as the crescendo swarmed up to engulf her, she heaved a huge sigh as she soared over the crest and began her throbbing, convulsive descent.

"Ahhhhhhhh," she whispered, praying they would not hear, but unable to contain the all-consuming conflagration that gripped her.

Arne did not hear, for as he felt the dog's cum spurting through the swollen, belching tubes, his own passion crested and he pounded out his release in a spurting frenzy into the dog's ass.

"Eyiiiiiiiii!" Arne cried.

Then he collapsed over the top of the animal, trapping him so that he could not rip free of the girl until the huge knob halfway up the length of his prick had dissolved.