A Bent Offering (closed for SheldonDorian)

The carriage tottered and shook as it climbed the narrow mountain pass. Stavian looked out the window, attempting to turn his thoughts in any direction other than his destination.

His life was most certainly over, not that it really mattered, he had already lost his life once before, when he was nine years old, and his older sister Gemma died of Azure Fever. His family decided on that very day that Stavian would be more valuable to the family as a poor imitation of their only daughter, than as a fifth son. They put out word that Stavian had died, and Stavian was forced to become Gemma ever after.

Great care had been taken to reshape Stavian in his sister's image. Apothecaries mixed vials of pungent liquids which they poured on his head to lighten his brown hair to match his sister's golden hue, and his mother made him eat the ovaries of cows and pigs in order to stimulate the growth of breasts. They even debated over whether or not it would be better to have him castrated, a decision that was finally decided against, to Stavian's great relief.

On the whole his physical transformation was considered a success. By the age of 18 Stavian, who was no longer called by his own name, and was only rarely called by his sister's name - now he was almost always addressed as my darling, my dear, sweet child, or some other non-specific endearment - looked very much like a pretty young woman, though his breasts were pathetically small, and his hips were far too narrow.

For his journey up the mountain, Stavian had been dressed in a gown of the finest white linen, his face painted with exquisite care, and his hair arranged in long loose curls that hung down past his shoulders, in the hopes of concealing his inadequate bosom. He looked near enough the proper part, but everyone's greater concern had always been for his behavior.

Stavian had never quite managed to adopt the submissive demeanor that was considered most becoming for a woman. He had spent too many years as a bold and reckless boy, and his masculine habits had proven exceptionally hard to break. Despite hours of daily etiquette training and harsh punishments, he still showed signs of stubborn insubordination. He insisted on making eye contact rather than keeping his eyes cast downward, he frequently spoke out of turn, and from time to time he even openly defied the instructions of his parents and tutors, all behaviors that were expected from boys, but considered intolerable in girls, especially in highborn girls who were consigned to a fate of service and slavery.

Stavian's mother had shed countless tears, pleading with him to try harder, "You must do everything you can to please your master, my darling. There is nothing more important than that. You're failure could mean the death of us all." Stavian would always feel overwhelmed with guilt, and promise to do better, but despite all of his best intentions he seemed incapable of keeping his promises.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, and the driver opened to carriage door to assist his charge in stepping down. Stavian accepted the man's hand and allowed himself to be led out and away, through the gates, and into the courtyard of the darkly ominous castle.

Stavian's escort pressed him to his knees on the cold stone, and bound him with a heavy chain, shackling his wrists to his waist. As a final touch a blindfold was tied over his eyes, leaving Stavian in total darkness. He could only listen to the clatter of the carriage as it pulled away, leaving him in an isolation more complete than any he had ever known.

In the castle of the demon lord Thune, his general woke well before dawn. The towering half-orc rose from a hard pallet and, naked, performed five thousand pushups. After eating a dozen eggs and half a raw chicken, it was time for tusk sharpening.

Oghma peered in her oil-stained mirror and began to ply a rasp against her bottom teeth, satisfied, she donned her clothes and armor.

The offering from the village in the dale would be arriving soon. As Thune’s right fist, it was Oghma’s duty to prepare the child for the life that awaited her, a life of enslaved debasement to the demon lord’s twisted whims and desires.

Oghma saw the carriage from her quarters, high in a turret. The girl that the coachman left seemed weak and scrawny. Oghma licked her lips.

After letting the girl wait, bound and blindfolded, for an hour or two, Oghma descended to greet her. Sneaking up, despite her heavy plate, she whispered in the girl’s ear. “What is its name?"

The period of darkness and isolation stretched out immeasurably. Stavian's legs began to ache beneath the weight of his body. To distract himself from his discomfort he listened with hard-edged focus, and from time to time he thought he caught sounds of human-like movement, usually at a distance, but sometimes close by, yet still he was left to wait. His thoughts ranged far afield vacillating between angry self-pity and twists of dark humor that began to feel more and more like evidence that his mind was drifting toward madness.

Just when he had resigned himself to a fate of eternal torment by chain and stone and relative silence... If I'm ever allowed to write home, I must be sure to tell my father of this experience. I'm sure I never would have been such a difficult daughter if he had punished me thus. Father's beatings are a pleasure by comparison. ...an inhuman voice whispered in his ear, startling him so that he jerked against his chains, succumbing to his foolish instinct to attempt to defend himself. His movement caused a burst of pain where the chains cinched tighter around him.

It took him a moment to puzzle out the question that the voice had posed, distracted as he was by shock and then more pain. He felt sure he had heard the word "name".

He very nearly answered the question honestly. Even if his family had stopped calling him by his name long ago, he had never thought of himself by any name other than Stavian, but he remembered his training before he spoke, and took great care not only to speak the proper words, but to also speak in a meek tone.

"If it pleases my lord, my people call me Gemma, trueborn child of House Heartstone." Every word was technically true. It was Stavian's entire self that was the lie.

Oghma could smell the fear on the girl and it disgusted her. Surely Thune would delight in crushing such an already cowed creature, but Oghma deplored weakness. It would be her personal delight to coax some backbone from the human before allowing her master to crush it.

When the girl spoke, Oghma slapped her across the face, hard enough to send the girl to the courtyard floor. “Do not call me ‘lord’, little Gemma, for I am a lady. Do not call me ‘Lady’ for you are a slave of another. Call me ‘General’ for that is what I am.”

Oghma tore the blindfold from the girl, promising herself that she would slay the whelp if the sight of her caused the girl to faint. Thune didn’t STRICTLY need his slaves alive to desecrate their bodies and soles.

“This is your new home, Gemma. I would tell you to make yourself comfortable but that would be the last thing Lord Thune would wish for you.”

Stavian's head struck the ground with force. Bound in chains, he was completely unable to protect his head, and new pain shot through his skull. Still lying knocked over on the ground provided some relief to his aching legs.

“Do not call me ‘lord’, little Gemma, for I am a lady. Do not call me ‘Lady’ for you are a slave of another. Call me ‘General’ for that is what I am.”

Stavian struggled past the ringing in his head to focus on the words of his tormentor. He meant to learn his lessons here with much more dedication than he had offered to his parents and tutors. In the end it didn't really matter if he survived, the only thing that mattered was pleasing his new master, for the benefit of his people.

The blindfold was torn from his eyes, and the sudden burst of light sent new waves of pain through his head, forcing his eyes to close reflexively, a blessing since he wanted nothing more than to see exactly what a Lady General might look like, a dangerous impulse considering how much time his family had spent in teaching him to keep his eyes cast down.

The force of the slap had been far greater than anything he had felt at the hands of his father. Stavian had never known a woman of power, and if such a powerful woman was the General for his new master, what were the implications for his position here? Was it possible that his family was mistaken in everything they taught him.

“This is your new home, Gemma. I would tell you to make yourself comfortable but that would be the last thing Lord Thune would wish for you.”

When he was finally able to open his eyes against the blinding light he couldn't decide where to look. He directed his eyes to the ground initially, but he wanted to see her, and in the end his curiosity got the best of him. He meant to glance only for a moment, but it took a long time for his eyes to focus properly on the massive form hovering above him, and once he saw her properly, it felt impossible to tear his eyes away. She was a strange and glorious creature, not one that could be described as beautiful by his people's standards, but fascinating to look at in a way that both thrilled and terrified him.

"I beg forgiveness, General." In all of his discomfort and fascination, Stavian forgot to cast his words in a submissive tone. He spoke plainly, as himself, respectful but direct.

The girl practically stared at Oghma, eliciting a smile of equal parts mirth and menace. "I beg forgiveness, General." Gemma had said, but her posture seemed to belie her words. The pup still has a fang or two, the general thought.

Oghma held the girl's chin in her gauntleted fist. “You have fire in your belly, that is good. As a human, you are as yet unfit to serve Lord Thune’s desires. You will be hardened so that you will more easily shatter. You will learn to be a slave, bent to your master’s will. There will be times when you will be tricked into disobedience so that you will be punished severely, all due to your own fault.”

The general drooled slightly as her own words sent the blood rising in her veins. “I will be your teacher and guardian until the day comes, and indeed, it might not, that you are worthy to serve The Master. You will train with me, you will sleep next to me on my pallet. I will instruct you in how to behave. I will become a constant voice in the back of your head. If you please me you may live, though I will bend your will to the point that death may be preferable.”

Oghma grasped Gemma’s chains and pulled. Her face contorted with the strain and a vein twitched prominently on her brow. One link of the iron broke free. Unbinding the girl, Oghma draped her across her shoulder. “We are about to enter the castle; this is your last chance to beg me to end your life before your re-education begins.”

Stavian focused carefully on the General's words, not expecting that any information was likely to be repeated, and fearing that any information missed might cause him great harm.

The idea of being hardened so that he might be shattered seemed like a horrible prospect, as did being tricked into disobedience only to be punished for a fault that was not a true fault, and yet somehow all of these words brought a sense of relief. However challenging his trials and torments would prove to be, they would at least be worthy challenges, a welcomed contrast to his days of idle docility in his father's house, when he was forbidden from action and choice.

Stavian did not desire pain. He did not desire death, or the bending of his will, but he did desire challenge. He wished to face his captivity, not with meek pleas and gentle acceptance, but as a man would, with pride and honor. He wanted to strive with every last vestige of strength in his body, and every ounce of wit in his mind, to endure, to survive, to remain himself. The general, even with her menacing threats, had restored to Stavian some precious quality that his father and mother had tried to strip away from him completely.

He watched in amazement as the General broke the chain that bound him, and then lifted him effortlessly over her shoulder.

“We are about to enter the castle; this is your last chance to beg me to end your life before your re-education begins.”

"I would beg..." Stavian's mind raced, trying to choose the right words. He had to tell her. He needed to divest himself of his secret now. If he was to live by her side, she would discover his secret soon enough, and Stavian felt determined not to allow his family's folly to cause him any more pain than was absolutely necessary. He had always expected to be punished when he was found out. He had been rather certain, long before his arrival at the castle, that the moment of discovery was likely to be the moment of his death, but then he had been told that his only option was acceptance and submission. Now he saw clearly, that the longer his deception continued the more severely his punishment was likely to be. If his secret was going to kill him, he would have it kill him now, upon his confession, not after hours or days of scurrying in shadows, fleeing from the inevitable.

"I must beg you General, but not for death... rather I would ask... I would tell you... something important." Stavian spoke in stops and starts, in broken language, struggling to speak plainly that which was not easily explained. He knew that he needed to explain the nature of his deception with great care, but he also did not want to strain her patience. His manner was clumsy, and he sounded far more desperate than he had intended to sound, but then perhaps that was for the best, perhaps it was the only way he could sound, given the complexity of his circumstances.

The girl on Oghma’s shoulder began to sputter. The general’s anger rose at the human’s weakness. She would have to ask her master why he so enjoyed slaves from such a fragile race. She could smell the girl’s blood, it veritably begged to be spilt.

“I think our first lesson will be in speech and diction, Thune cannot have some babbling nit-wit as his soul-slave.” Oghma, put Gemma back down on the girl’s feet. Looking directly into her eyes with malice, hands on her fragile shoulders, Oghma said, “Spit it out little girl, I tire of your nattering.”

"I'm not a girl!" The exclamation came out almost without intention. It certainly wasn't the way that he meant for his confession to come out. He meant to explain the reason that his family had chosen deception rather than some other course. He meant to explain his upbringing, and the circumstances of his sister's death, and all of the training that had meant to shape him into a prefect submissive, so that even if his gender did not please, his behavior would be faultless.

In the end the General's anger had motivated him to be very brief. Stavian wasn't even sure if she had heard him at all. "I am a boy," he said. He sighed and hung limp over her shoulder, waiting to see what she might say, what she might do.

.....

Oghma, nearly dropped Gemma, she laughed so hard. "Why try to deceive us, you have a soul and a hole, that's all my lord requires of you. Oghma wondered how even a human male could be so small and frail. The idea of teaching, testing, torturing and twisting this slave in particular sent her blood burning.

"You must decide, Gemma, if you wish to be trained as a maid or a man. You will be a slave either way, you will be used, sometimes painfully, sometimes pleasurably, and often both." Oghma licked her lips. "But you needn't decide right now. You will sleep with me tonight, then we will test your suitability as a slave."

The general had chosen her words carefully, it was a test, with multiple wrong and right answers, she could hardly decide if she wished the boy Gemma would pass or fail.

The general's laughter confused Stavian, as did her words. It was as if she meant that it did not matter if he were male or female, as if such a thing were inconsequential, a simple matter of choice. He could not simply choose such a thing, could he? He was born male, that was the truth. His family had dressed him and trained him to behave like a female, that was a lie.

Stavian tried to get a glimpse of the general's face, as if he might find the answers that he was missing written there. He wanted to ask so many questions, but each question asked, raised the likelihood of causing offense, and the likelihood of receiving punishment. In the end he decided to ask only one question. "How much time will I be given before I must decide?"

“How much time will I be given before I must decide?” Gemma had asked. Oghma found it curious that the slave was in the position to have such a choice. She had to wonder, momentarily, if she would have chosen femininity for herself if she had a similar decision.

“You have until the new moon in a fortnight, that is when our master Thune will desecrate your body and soul.” Oghma smiled and ruffled Gemma’s hair. “But first you will settle in. In case you are to be a man, it will do no good for you to be carried.” The general lowered Gemma to his or her feet.

Leading the slave into the castle, they passed dark, torch-lit corridors, full of filthy, hulking humans, half-feral dogs and a few slaves in tattered clothes. Most gave Oghma a wide birth.

A pack of scabby guards called out, “Give us the girl, she can service our meat before you send her to Thune.” Oghma walked passed, without so much as a glance in their direction. A towering orc, well over seven feet tall shoved the general. “We said give us the girl.”

Oghma, swung for his jaw, her fist connecting with an audible crack. The orc toppled, out cold. “Orghast will be far too sore to romp with me in my bed tonight.” Oghma said to Gemma.

As they reached the general’s quarters, Oghma roughly tore the dress of the slave. “You will not need that anymore, you will wear the rags fitting your gender, when you choose one that is.” Oghma’s eyes lingered for a second on Gemma’s cock. It was a human cock, not as massive as that of an orc, but it was a cock just the same. “You will lift boulders in the next room while I sleep. When you are utterly exhausted, you may join me in my bed. But pray you have no energy left at all when you do, you will not enjoy the consequences of shirked training.”

Stavian was glad to be given the opportunity to walk on his own. If this was any indication of what was in store for him as a male instead of as a female it would be easy for him to make his choice, but he decided not to be overly hasty. He did not fully grasp the consequences of either option in this place, and though he did not intend to choose whichever option was easiest, he also did not intend to choose without knowing the full implication of his choice.

It seemed strange to him, but somehow for Oghma's playful tousling of his hair, and for protecting him from the other guards, Stavian was already feeling some affection for her. He didn't just want to please her so that she would refrain from crushing his head like a melon, he also wanted to please her in order to make her feel proud, or at least not disgusted by him.

When the general tore off his dress Stavian did not feel any shame or distress. His parents had insisted on inspecting his naked body weekly to see if he had progressed at all toward a more womanly form. He had gotten used to being poked and prodded. He fully expected that Oghma would do the same, but she did not touch him, just looked, and then assigned him his task.

Stavian's first concern when he looked into the room full of boulders of various sizes and dimensions was to worry about where he should move them to, but as he thought about it, he realized that the intention was to work his body, in order to make it stronger. If she had wanted the boulders relocated she would have said so.

He moved among the boulder's testing them for weight. Stavian started with the smaller ones, and worked his way up toward the larger ones, until he found ones that he could barely budge at all. Then he stopped and stretched. It had been ages since he had been allowed to exercise properly, and he knew that he might injure himself if he went straight into such a heavy task without any preparation. When he felt satisfied that he was as limber as he could hope to become after so long a period of inactivity, he started in with the heaviest of the boulders that he could lift above his head. He lifted carefully, hoisted it above his head, held it there until his arms and legs began to tremble from the strain, and then lowered it again. He repeated this again and again until despite all of his efforts he could no longer lift the object above his shoulders, and then he down-graded in size and continued the activity.

Once or twice he smashed a finger when he set the stone back down on the ground, and at least once the boulder slipped from his grasp and landed painfully on his foot. The pain was immense, but he did not allow himself to cry out. He didn't dare to wake the general from her rest. He just sat down for a moment and massaged his aching foot until the pain receded to a dull throb, then stretched again and resumed his activity. Despite the occasional moments of pain, Stavian rather enjoyed this task. He did not think of it as a punishment, but as an opportunity to regain something of the strength he had lost. He missed the sport and competition of his early childhood and imagined that this task was just that, a chance to play.

Stavian worked until his muscles ached, and then he worked some more. He worked until each movement caused pain to stab through him, and then he worked some more. He worked until he felt dizzy with exhaustion, and then he worked some more. He worked until even the smallest boulder seemed to taunt him for his weakness and inadequacy, and then he sat down and cried, certain that he had not done enough. He imagined a number of vile punishments that might be in store for him, and then because he felt that the pain in his body from this work was far and away preferable to the consequences for shirking his training, he forced himself to work some more.

When he finally came to Oghma's bed he was stumbling blind with exhaustion, his foot had grown swollen and purple and he could only put his weight on it gingerly. He gave up and crawled the last few feet to the bed, and slid himself in next to her, taking great care not to disturb his hulking mistress.

Oghma had been waiting, feigning sleep for Gemma to return. She felt the boy, if indeed he were to be a boy, lay down beside her. The first lesson was now about to begin.

When Gemma's breathing slowed and became more rhythmic, the general quickly shifted her weight and descended, mouth first, onto Gemma's cock. It was soft and small between her lips. She payed some, perhaps not enough, attention to not nick or bite with her teeth or tusks.

Gemma soon began to spring to rigidity. "Enjoy." Oghma said, sending vibrations through the slave’s member. It was not long until Gemma's thighs began to tighten and his breath came in shallow heaves. That is when Oghma stopped.

When Gemma's building orgasm faded, the general resumed her ministrations, stopping just short of the point or eruption, then beginning again. Oghma replaced her mouth with her hand. "You should not have listened to me and wasted all off your strength. If you are to be a man you must never allow others to control you, even though you may very well be made to suffer in exchange for your dignity."

Oghma returned to her maddening fellating torture. She reached for a chest at her bedside and retrieved an oblong crystal, roughly the size and shape of a massive human phallus. "Unless, or course, you would prefer to play the part of the shrinking woman."

The boy was so exhausted from his work that he barely responded to Oghma's torments. From time to time he released a small gasp, or a quiet whimper, before settling again into a fitful sleep.

Stavian's dreams were overlaid with the persistent rise and fall of sexual pleasure. He dreamed that his mother had learned a way to remove his cock, and truly turn him into a girl. She rubbed a potion onto his cock that made him hard like a staff of wood, and she worked his staff pulling and jostling it until it was just about to come off, and then she forgot what she was doing and wandered away, only to start again a few minutes later. This didn't hurt him, it caused great pleasure, so much that he began to wonder if maybe he did want to be a girl after all.

At some point he became vaguely cognizant of the general speaking to him, and he struggled to make sense of her words, but as soon as the voice stopped he couldn't remember what it had said, it only left him with a vague sense of his own inadequacy, that he had failed a test of some kind. His cock was growing numb and sore, “No more mother,” he whined, “please, just let me sleep.” He attempted to pull away and roll over...

Oghma snickered at the boy's half-conscious words. Slapping him heavily on the face to waken him fully, she whispered. "Do not call me 'mother'. A amorphous wretch like you would never claw its way from my womb. But I will keep in mind that you wish to bed the one who gave birth to you."

How pitiful Oghma though. The boy would rather I leave him be entirely than to allow him to expel his seed. The general was mildly insulted that Gemma did not get for sweet release. She herself had bedded many creatures of multiple sexes and races, fucking to her was yet another martial art she had mastered.

"If you wish me to stop stimulating you like a man, perhaps you would rather I treat you as a woman." Oghma forced the boy onto his stomach and clasped the back of his neck, her grip combining with her strength to control the movements of his entire torso. "I told you there would be tests. I leave it to you to decide if this is a punishment or a reward." With that Oghma thrust the crystal into Gemma's ass.

The slap shocked Stavian into wakefulness. He blinked at Oghma's hovering face, and struggled to make sense of what she was saying. Had he said something in his sleep? He could almost remember saying something, but then he noticed his painful state of arousal, his cock was hard and throbbing, aching for release. Maybe that was what had offended her. He wanted to stroke himself, to relieve the hungry ache that ran from his balls to the tip of his cock, and he groaned in erotic discomfort, but he did not dare touch himself with her watching.

"If you wish me to stop stimulating you like a man, perhaps you would rather I treat you as a woman."

Oghma had done this to him, and he must have said something to make her stop. Before he could say a word, she rolled him over onto his stomach, pinning him in place and preventing any movement.

"I told you there would be tests. I leave it to you to decide if this is a punishment or a reward."

The pain that ripped through Stavian's ass, was like nothing he had ever known. He felt as if he were being split apart. He felt like it might be possible to die from pain. Tears flooded his eyes, and he flailed and kicked in his effort to escape, but she held him fast. "Please. Please, it hurts. I'll be good. I promise. Anything you want. Please."

Gemma struggled like a pathetic fool, begging her to stop plying his ass with the thick crystal. "So you find being a woman unpleasant? I thought that was the entire point of your foolish charade." Said Oghma.

The general thrust violently a few more rapid times then stopped. "Do not take my mercy for weakness." She said. "Like a pathetic worm, you are too soft to be so ravaged or to please my body, which you have yet to beg to do. Were it not my protection of you, I would be rutting with my favorite bed mate. In the morning you must make it up to me or be severely punished."

Oghma hurrumphed, gazing at Gemma's erect cock. "You may do with that what you will. And in case you are wondering, this too is a test."

Stavian didn't know what to do. He was tired, tired to the bone, tired of tests and trials, and guessing what he was supposed to do. More than ever before his situation felt completely hopeless, but his hopelessness was beginning to turn into anger.

"What do you want from me? I've never done this before. Do you want me to... try to please your body? Am I supposed to beg you? I've never been with a woman before... or a man! I know that I'm weak and pathetic and useless! My family did everything they could think of to make me this way. They were so certain that your Lord Thune would want someone fragile and submissive. They didn't feed me properly. They didn't let me exercise, or even leave the house. I don't know how to be a man! I don't know how to be a woman either!"

He wiped tears of rage away from his eyes, and gazed at the big beautiful woman who looked at him with so much contempt. "Please... teach me. If you have to hurt me to make me stronger, then hurt me. I'm sorry. I'll try not to cry or fight you. I'll do whatever you tell me to do. I want to please you, not just because I'm afraid of you, which I am, but because... I want to be like you. I would not mind being a woman, if I could be a woman like you, and I wouldn't mind being a man, if I could be the sort that you could desire. But I don't know how to be anything other than what I am. Please help me."

Oghma seriously considered killing the slave there and then. She was not so much mad at him, but herself. Gemma, if that was his real name, was the first slave she had been assigned to groom for Lord Thul, and she seemed to be failing.

His words had a strange effect on her. Just like when she protected him from her fellow orc, she now felt the need to care for him. This emotion was surely a sign of weakness that she must purge.

"Listen you insignificant maggot!" Oghma barked. "I will have no more of this self-pity, no more weakness. I will teach you to be both a proper woman and a proper man. You will decide which you want to be when you are strong enough to know your truth."

The general sighed and gritted her teeth. Her words were meant to be both hard and reassuring, she felt that she had gone too far in one direction or other.

"When I am done with you, you shall be Thul's agent or his bride. But for now I will give you your first lesson in being a man. It is also your first lesson in being a woman.

Oghma stood and stripped off the leather nightclothes she wore, revealing rippling muscles, large round breasts and a hair-darkened cunt. She lay back down on the bed next to Gemma.

"Do what comes naturally." She said.

Oghma's words snapped Stavian out of his self-pity and weakness. He would do his best to be strong and self-reliant. It was what she required.

He watched her strip naked and the sight of her body caused a tremor of desire to travel through his already firm and aching cock. She laid down on the bed next to him.

"Do what comes naturally."

Stavian refused to let his self doubt get the best of him. He knew a little about sex, from watching the animals on his family estate, and from the lewd talk of his brothers before he had been turned into a girl, and separated from them except under strict supervision.

He spread her legs, and knelt between them. Then he parted her cleft with his hand. He had never looked at a woman's parts up close before, and he was a little surprised by the delicate wilted flower petal folds concealed there. His cock was meant to slide into the glistening opening at the center. Slowly, he crawled forward until his cock pressed against her soft flesh, and then he used his hands to help him find her hole, and slide his cock into it.

He looked at her, wondering if this was right, but he didn't dare ask. If he was wrong she would surely let him know. It felt right. Her body was soft and welcoming down there. He thrust forward, drew back and thrust forward again. Her cunt felt so good. He couldn't help but moan as he found a rhythm for his thrusts. He could come very quickly if he wasn't careful. He knew from his brother's jibes that a man wasn't supposed to come too quickly.

He slowed down and focused on her great round breasts. He felt the strange urge to suck one of her large pink nipples into his mouth, but that couldn't be right, could it? He reached out to feel her breast with his hand instead, massaging the soft round flesh, as he slowly pumped his cock between her legs.

Oghma sighed luxuriously as Gemma slid his cock into her. He was obviously inexperienced but quite naturally talented, Oghma couldn’t wait to show him the ways of proper fucking. But now she needed pleasure and that was exactly what Gemma was providing her.

As the boy’s hand reached for her breasts she gasped, “Very good instincts, the nipple can be played with as well.” Gemma’s thrusts were unschooled and Oghma had to guide his cock with her hips to the more delicious angels.

The slave, who she thought for a moment of as her slave, was showing every sign of spilling his seed. She wanted this pleasure for him, particularly as he said he had not lain with anyone before, but her needs came first.

“Listen boy,” she said, nearly purring in ecstasy, “I will tell you something few men know. It is rare for a woman to reach climax with a man’s cock only. Use your fingers, your tongue, delight me…then I will delight you as well.”

Oghma pushed him roughly yet playfully off of her. She let her fingers trail down her tones stomach, past the dense thatch of pubic hair and into her pussy. “See this nub here, Gemma? This is one of the keys to a woman’s pleasure. Focus here, but don’t rush. Then I will give that beautiful cock of yours a proper initiation into manhood.”

The inexperienced slave boy listened to his mistress with rapt attention, keen to learn everything that he could. He reached out and delicately massaged the small nub of flesh that Oghma had shown him.

He wasn't certain how much pressure would be welcomed, so he experimented slowly and cautiously, listening to the sound of her breathing and watching how her body responded. He didn't think it would really be possible for him to hurt the powerful woman, but he understood all too well how sensitive his own genitals were, and he wasn't sure if hers would be vulnerable like that or not.

If he pressed too hard, it might be possible to cause her pain or discomfort at least. If he did not provide enough pressure she might become annoyed, or at least remain unsatisfied, and he wanted very much to deliver the pleasure that she craved.

Oghma was not easy to read, but he began to get a sense of the sounds and movements that she made when managed to touch her in just the right way. She seemed to like a firm pressure applied in a slow smooth circular rubbing motion.

But she had also said something about using his mouth, and he wondered if he might be able to make her feel even more pleasure if he tried with his tongue. He used his hands to part her labia and slowly lowered his face against her soft moist flesh. The flavor of her fluids was strong, but not unpleasant, intoxicating. He felt his cock twitch as her heady aroma filled his nose and mouth.

It took him a moment to find that same nub with his tongue, but he felt the slight shudder in her massive body when he found his mark, and he went to work pressing and needing her secret mound with his tongue.