Storiesonline.net ------- Smuggler's Gold by colt45 Copyright© 2010 by colt45 ------- Description: A small-time smuggler, Antal lives on the fringes of society in a minor backwater port somewhere in the Empire. While not exactly a cruel man he isn’t a saint and has his own issues with lust and revenge. He’s happy with how his life is going but outside forces, including the mysterious and dangerous Herceg and a bevy of women seem bound and determined to screw with it. Not a sequel to the story Ascension but comes from the same universe and a few of the characters overlap here and there. Codes: MF Mult cons rom non-con reluc slave humor inc mother son Mdom harem preg violent ------- ------- Chapter 1 He pried apart the cheeks of her ass with one hand while reaching for the jug of olive oil with the other. She was on her knees, head buried in the mattress, her ass up in the air. He had taken her this way every time since first coming to own her just over two weeks before. It wasn't that he didn't like fucking face to face ― he liked it just fine ― but he wanted her to know that he was in control here. She was his to do as he saw fit. The oil had been a necessity ― well not so much a necessity as a small kindness ― although she didn't realize it at the time. She was always dry when he took her and although his plan was to ensure her complete submission it didn't include excessive or unnecessary pain. The sex was a necessary part of that plan, an extremely pleasurable part of that plan as far as he was concerned but he had no desire to have her associate pain with his pleasure. It was his hope that sooner or later she would also begin to feel pleasure from their coupling. A willing and enthusiastic participant was much more desirable than an unwilling and recalcitrant one and he was prepared to take as long as it took to achieve that goal. This time it looked like maybe, just maybe, his plan was actually working. Under the small brown crinkled star of her anus he could see the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt; it looked like they were actually moist! Ignoring the jug of oil he brought his hand back to gently trace those lips with the tip of his finger and smiled, they were damp! Slowly he wormed the tip of his finger inside her and felt her body shiver although she didn't try to pull away like she had the first few times he had explored her. She was wet, not gushing wet but wet nonetheless. "I think someone is starting to enjoy this," he mused out loud. "No," came the muffled reply. "Really? That's not what your body's telling me." She didn't answer as he slowly worked his finger in and out, her natural lubrication wetting his finger more with each plunge. Bending down and craning his neck up he let his tongue lightly lap at the exposed lips while still moving his finger deeper and deeper into her center. He found the taste of her hairless lips exquisite, a heady blend of musk and perspiration; she whimpered but didn't say anything. At this angle his neck was getting sore so drawing back he lightly slapped her on one ass cheek and said, "Turn over, on your back." She gave a small sob and complied. What else could she do? Her hands were still bound and besides he had the legal right to do with her whatever he pleased. She rolled to her back and he gently but firmly pushed her legs apart until her quim was fully exposed to his gaze. Dropping down again he began to lick at her open slit, his rasping tongue softly caressing her blood-engorged lips, dipping deeper to sample the juices her treasonous body began making even more copiously. No man had ever done this to her and she squeezed her eyes shut, the inherent feeling of wrongness on so many levels battling with the new sensations emanating from her groin. The feeling was extremely pleasant and her legs involuntarily splayed even farther apart opening her up even more to his gentle ministrations. The sensations increased as he delved deeper, his tongue touching every part of her channel it could reach. She fought to control her sounds of pleasure valiantly until the tip of his tongue rubbed the engorged button located at the top of her slit; then she gasped out loud and her bound hands came up to rest on the top of his head, not to push away but with fingers entwined in his short hair to pull him down into her even harder. "Oh, Powers!" she groaned as her hips bucked up into his mouth, she had lost all conscious control over her body. "Oh, Lords!" she repeated as he took her nub between his teeth and gently nipped it. Suddenly a sensation completely new raced through her body freezing her in a stiff rigor of pleasure and blanking everything else from her mind. She whined loudly, hands pulling him in even tighter as her legs lifted trapping his head in the smooth vise of her thighs. It was some minutes before she recovered from the first orgasm she had experienced in her thirty-six years of life. Even as her head cleared she felt his insistent prodding and she again rolled over and lifted her ass into the air as his unspoken instructions demanded. Eyes closed and face pressed firmly into the pillow of the bed they shared she felt his hands gently grasp her inner thighs and firmly move her legs apart spreading her pussy lips and opening her up for his use. His hands moved to her hips and the next thing she felt was the spongy head of his cock pressing against her lewdly splayed opening. "No, Antal," she protested weakly but offering no other resistance. "Yes, Ilona," he said firmly as he started to push his way into her wet embrace. ------- Initially she didn't know who her new master was when she was first bought. He'd had her bound at the wrists and hooded before he led her through the busy streets of Eregli. In some part she was glad to be hooded even though it caused her to stumble over the uneven cobblestones of the street. She'd lived in Eregli all her life and the thought of her neighbors and friends seeing her reduced to bondage was one less thing she had to bear for the moment. They had come for her and the house less than a week after Janos, her husband, had died. A grossly fat man thirty years her senior, he had passed suddenly while enjoying the pleasures of a young boy at one of the local whorehouses. Ilona was his second wife as he was her second husband. She had felt compelled to remarry four years after her first husband died at sea during a fishing expedition. Janos's preference for young boys was never an issue. He needed a wife to manage his household and be the hostess for the many formal and informal gatherings and parties he gave in the furtherance of what she believed was a thriving trading venture. Her first marriage had been arranged by her parents and, although loveless, was comfortable. Never having felt the touch of a true lover's hand she missed the sexual aspect of her second union not at all. Her only regret was her son, eight years old at the time of his father's death and twelve when they came to live with Janos, never forgave her for the marriage. He left abruptly when he reached the age of sixteen and she hadn't seen or heard from him in the four years since. After Janos' death it became quickly apparent the trading business was much less solvent then Ilona had believed and the creditors descended almost before the body was cold and decently burned. As his wife, Ilona was held responsible for her late husband's debts and when the sale of the business assets, including their house, could not meet the obligations, the local court quickly ordered her sold into slavery to satisfy the remainder. Within days she had been auctioned, sold and her new master came to claim her. Hooded, she could only hear the laughter and jeers of her former neighbors as she was led along the winding streets. Presently she was guided out of the hot afternoon sun into the cool of her new home. She heard a door closing behind her and just as quickly she was pushed another few steps into the room and roughly bent over the back of something with padding, a chair, she assumed. She cried out once as her arms were yanked down and securely fastened. She couldn't move them and her feet could no longer touch the floor as she perched precariously over the back of the furniture. Again she cried out as her short slave tunic was pushed up over her bare ass but a sharp smack on her exposed bottom cut short the protest. She had no time to think as the cheeks of her ass were pried apart and a finger prodded her bone-dry cunt. Her assailant grunted once and shortly the finger returned this time coated with something slippery. Her master swathed a great deal of this lubricant around and in her cunt before the finger left her. She heard the rustle of clothing from behind and suddenly what could only be a cock had replaced the finger and began to slowly but firmly drive into her. She felt only a little pain but no pleasure as the invading monster slowly filled her until its spongy head nestled up against the rubbery hardness of her cervix. She could only grunt as the fleshy invader began its slow sawing into her body. Ilona had never derived pleasure from sex and this time was no different. This was little more than her new master demonstrating he had complete control, using her for his own pleasure and confirming her new status in the world. It didn't take long before her master quickened his motion, fucking into her firmly without any regard for her comfort. At last he thrust deep and expelled his seed into the mouth of her womb, giving a satisfied grunt as he did. Standing motionless for a few minutes, hands grasping her hips, his softening cock finally slipped from her gooey sheath and he patted her bottom as one would a favorite pet. Soon her still-bound hands were released and she was pulled back to stand upright. The hood was pulled off her head and she was finally able to see the face of her new master. "Antal!" she screamed. ------- "Yes, Ilona," he said as he pushed slowly into her. "This is so wrong, Antal," she whispered. She said the same thing every time he took her which was sometimes as often as three times a day. "I'm your mother." "You're my slave," he grinned as he bottomed out, the head of his cock bumping up against her cervix. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with what we're doing." He began the slow in and out thrusting he normally did. But this time it was different, this time he wasn't using the olive oil to assist their coupling, this time it was her own natural oils easing the mating. "I think you like this," he persisted. "No," she protested weakly gasping and then moaning as he jabbed a short hard thrust into her. "Why can't you admit you like it?" he asked never changing his pace. "Because it's wrong," she sighed. "Our Herceg's first wife is his mother," Antal pointed out. The Herceg was the local equivalent of a duke or governor of the province. It was their custom that royalty take their mothers as first wives when they ascend to their positions. "The emperor's first wife is his mother. Can it be wrong for me to take my mother for my first?" "We aren't royalty," she answered through gritted teeth. His constant thrusting was driving her up the plane to another orgasm. "And I am your slave, not your wife." "You are my woman," he grunted and began to quicken his thrusts. "You will always be the first woman in my life and will always be mine." He stopped talking and began to seriously mount her as she grunted beneath him bringing them both closer to their release. Finally as they both approached their peaks he thrust deeply one last time and began to spew his seed into her waiting womb just as she crested and her body began to shake with the release of her orgasm. "Why, Antal?" she asked again after they had been resting for a while. "Why what?" he lazed as he nuzzled her neck. She was lying on her side with her son spooned up behind her, one arm possessively around her chest his hand cupping a breast. "Why do you insist on fucking me?" she persisted. "Do you hate me that much?" "I don't hate you," he insisted. "Well, not anymore, anyway. I hated you when you married that asshole. There was no reason for that; we were doing fine. We still had some money and I was old enough to start working on the boats. We would have had plenty to live on and if you needed a man in your life I could have taken care of that too." "It wasn't that at all," she insisted. "It seemed like that best choice at the time." Grunting, she continued, "Looking back, I suppose it wasn't the best choice I could have made." "Not for you, maybe," he said giving her breast a gentle squeeze. "And certainly not for me at the time either, but right now it sure turned out just fine for me. I think you actually enjoyed it today and I think the more we do it the more you'll enjoy it." "That's not the point," she persisted. "I'm still your mother and boys shouldn't bed their mothers." "Who says?" he snorted. "Tell that one to the Emperor, and Milklos has been fucking his mother for years ever since that needle-dicked father of his couldn't get it up. She sure hasn't been complaining." "Milklos' mother is nothing but a slut," Ilona retorted. "She'd bed anything on two legs and some with four." "So? You're my slut now and sooner or later you're going to realize that the only place my cock belongs is in your cunt." "You should have a wife of your own," she said changing tactics. "A pretty young wife that can give you children and a home to come back to. What could you possibly want with an old woman like me?" "You are beautiful, and still young," he said lazily, his fingers playing idly with her stiffening nipples. "You should have been mine four years ago and now you're where you belong. You should have been my woman when I turned sixteen; you should have waited. You should have given yourself to me, but no, instead I had to put up with you being fondled by that fat bastard. You know I even had to threaten him with a knife to keep him from fucking my ass?" "I am so sorry, Antal," she whispered turning to lay her head on his hairy chest, tears running down her cheeks to drip into the dark furry mat. "If I had only known..." "What would you have done?" he demanded. "He was your husband. Everything that was yours was his, even me. What would you have done? Left him? He would just send the peacekeepers to find and drag us back. I kept him away from me. He knew if he touched me again I'd cut his little balls off and stuff them down his throat. You couldn't do anything." "I am so sorry," she whimpered again. "Please, are you going to keep punishing me forever?" "Punish you?" he mused. "I suppose it is a punishment of a sort, but that's not why I bought you. I loved you, Ilona. Loved you and wanted you from the time I understood there was a difference between boys and girls and now I have you. In fact I still love you. You are my mother but you are now my woman and soon you will realize that and grow to love me as your man." "I do love you, Antal," she protested. "With all my heart, I do love you. But we should not be ... lovers. I don't love you like that." "You will," he said confidently. "You will and if not then at least I have what I want and that's all that matters." ------- As the days came and went, Ilona realized that life as her son's slave wasn't all that much different than being a fisherman's wife, or even a rich man's wife for that matter. She cooked and cleaned, shopped for the groceries and whatever else was needed for their household. The first few days in the marketplace were difficult. She endured the taunts of former friends and the sellers in their stalls but that passed quickly. Soon she hardly noticed the thin metal slave collar around her neck and those she dealt with seemed to do the same. It had to be common knowledge that her own son was bedding her but the taunts and recriminations she expected never materialized. It would seem Antal was correct: Nobody cared. It was just a man using his slave as was expected. She soon came to realize that he was probably also correct that nobody would have cared if she had been bedding him even if she hadn't been his slave. Outside of royalty it wasn't a common practice, but it wasn't completely unknown. Again people had better things to worry about. His attentions were fairly continuous and relentless. It was difficult to pretend she didn't enjoy his frequent use of her body. Although she tried to never let him know, it was fairly obvious he wasn't fooled by her weak and almost automatic protests. The fact was he was never rough with her and always did his best to make her orgasm during their intercourse which was by now almost as frequent as her protests. The only time he left her alone was during his frequent "business trips" or when she hurt from cramping during her monthly flows. At first when she discovered he would let her be if she felt bad, she considered feigning illness more often but now she didn't even consider it. Other than being used frequently as a vigorous young man is apt to do ― although no more often than any other young bride would expect ― being her son's slave was not unpleasant. She even derived some small status and respectability from being of his household. After all, her son was one of the most prosperous smugglers along their section of coast and, in their niche in society, smugglers were well respected and approved of. "Why do you do it, Antal?" she would ask. "It's so dangerous. You know what the penalty would be if you are caught." He did: It was death. "And what isn't dangerous?" was always his answer with a snort. "Fishing? Tell that to my father. All I know is the sea and what else would earn me the money I get for moving a little cargo past the Herceg's docks? Besides, all the decent fishing grounds have been claimed by the big families since forever. I suppose I could earn enough for us to starve slowly rather than quickly but starving is still starving. "Oh, it's not the taxes," he had elaborated when she asked him why he didn't do the safe thing and move his cargo through the dock as required. The ten-percent duty was stiff but not so onerous that risking one's life would be worth avoiding them. "I'd pay the taxes without even thinking about it if that were the all of it," he responded. "It's the bribes I can't afford. I don't begrudge our lord and master the one in ten he demands ― not much anyway. There needs to be some tax income if for no other reason than for the upkeep of the docks and warehouses. Even I know that and so long as everyone pays the same, it keeps everything competitive among us shippers. "No, it's the three-in-ten or four-in-ten the damned Customs Master and his gang of thieves gouge on each shipment that makes it impossible," he said shaking his head. "I'd lose money each time I pulled into port if I had to pay that." "But how can anyone do it then?" she'd asked. "The big ships still pull into Eregli regularly. If they can make a profit, why can't you?" "Ah, there's the problem," he muttered. "They don't pay the same in bribes that we with smaller bottoms have to. [In the lexicon of merchant shipping the term "bottom" is used interchangeably with "ship."] I've heard the larger merchants have been able to negotiate their bribes down to only an additional one-in-ten and even with that you may not have noticed, but there is far less trade coming through Eregli than just three years ago. Since the old Herceg died and his son took over, the corruption that had been creeping into the system has pretty much taken over. "The idiots!" he snorted. "All you hear is them screaming about how smuggling is strangling trade and how their revenues are down to almost nothing. That part I don't doubt, although I wouldn't be surprised if a good bit of what little they do collect is being siphoned off into someone's pocket, too. It isn't the smuggling that's doing it. There aren't enough of us to make that big a difference. I know for a fact, I and the rest of my cohorts don't move even a tenth of the trade that used to come through Eregli. "Sure it's good profit but I figure we're moving just enough to keep the upriver villages from starving and not much more. As small as my boats are, I can't carry even a twentieth of what one of the big merchants can. The Customs Master is choking the life's breath out of Eregli and every village surrounding it, just as sure as if he tightened the garrote with his own hand. "Why do you think we smugglers are as well liked as we are? We're performing a service for the people around here. Admittedly we charge a pretty bronze nail for bringing the goods in and out but it's still a hell of a lot cheaper than trying to get it through the regular shippers. Shit! Almost nobody here in Eregli can afford what's brought in through the docks. Most of that is going straight to Corum. They're the only ones that can afford it." Corum was the provincial capital and the Herceg's seat. Eregli had once been a reasonably prosperous mid-sized seaport but it had never been as rich as Corum and was much less so now. "I worry about you," Ilona admitted. "What if they catch you? I understand the Herceg has increased patrols in the delta." "He has," Antal confirmed. "But for the most part they're from the naval docks in Batumi. They don't know the delta and the channels like we do and I know them better than most of the others." Ilona had learned about Antal's life after leaving Janos' house following their reunion. She knew it had been almost impossible to keep him in the house from the moment they had moved in. Even as a twelve-year-old boy he had been out on the waters in his father's old leaky fishing scow. He'd come home only when absolutely necessary and would often be gone for days at a time. At the time it had bothered her to distraction but other than restraining him, there was very little she could do about it. Now that she knew at least part of the reason he avoided Janos' house, she felt guilty for not being able to protect him. Consequently he had spent the better part of his youth sailing the coastal waters in and around Eregli and poling the heavy wooden craft up into the various channels and estuaries where larger ships couldn't go because of their draft. His youthful adventures benefited him in two very important ways. First, he came to know the ways and means that would later help him avoid the Customs Master's agents in moving goods up and down the river. In fact he came to know them so well he could easily find his way through them even at night under a black moon. Which was good since that was when he normally did his "business" traveling past the Eregli docks. Second, the vigorous activities led to a physical development of remarkable proportions. Antal was not a tall man. He tended toward his father in that respect and would be considered just short of average if one were feeling generous on any given day. However, his height served merely to accentuate his muscular development which was considerable enough to be considered almost unnatural to some. What struck one about Antal at first sight were the shoulders that seemed to be made for a much larger man. They were broad and covered with slabs of muscle as was his stomach and back. If that weren't impressive enough the sight of his bulging biceps and forearms of corded muscle that appeared about to burst through the taut overlaying skin each time they flexed would be. While the rumor he could squeeze water from a stone was pure myth, the fact that he could bend solid rods of bronze the width of a finger into actual knots like they were soft rope was not. He had done it often enough for the entertainment of his fellow smugglers. His body didn't resemble the statues of gods and athletes found at the city's arena with their torsos narrowing from broad shoulders to narrow and well defined waists. No, his was built more like a building block dropping almost vertically to hips that sat atop heavily muscled legs. He had a pleasant enough face, neither homely nor overly pretty and would be taken for any common laborer while covered with a tunic or cloak. It was only when he stripped to his shorts for heavy work that he looked more like a bull forced into man form than a normal village or city dweller. His strength was one reason he never bothered to learn how to use a sword. Given the situations he usually found himself in, he found the lead-weighted cudgel he always carried or the thick push-pole half again as tall as he was to be far more useful. If it came to really close-in nasty work there was always his sailor's knife, half as long as his forearm and sharp enough to cut through sharkskin like a hot wire through soft cheese. More than a few self-appointed share-the-wealth ruffians had had their heads split open, arms broken or guts slit to make the point to those who knew him that just because he didn't carry a sword didn't mean he wasn't as dangerous as a sea snake. His career as a smuggler hadn't begun until he'd left Janos' house for the final time when he turned sixteen. His first few runs had been made alone as he carried grain, metal goods and livestock from Silifke, a small island two hours sail from Eregli and under the authority of another of the Empire's many Hercegs, upriver to Sile, a moderately-sized village half a day's march from Eregli. He did this three times a week for two months avoiding only the nights when the moon shone full in cloudless skies until he earned enough to trade in his father's old fishing scow and buy a true smuggler's boat. Six times longer than he was tall; broad of beam and shallow of draft, it handled like a pig in open waters under sail but sat low to the water and was able to navigate the shallow channels required to circumvent the main river channel covered by Customs agents. Taking on a small crew of boyhood friends, he quickly grew his trade until he now operated four small vessels and carried a respectable portion of the contraband moved in the area. He carried a mixture of regular consignment goods ordered from either end of his route or speculative merchandise he could pick up as it became available. He had a good business sense and if it had been economically feasible would probably have been a fairly prosperous legitimate merchant shipper. It was his prosperity that allowed him to buy his mother after Janos' death and the subsequent collapse of his stepfather's trading house. His first thought had been to extract a humiliating and public revenge on his mother who he believed had abandoned him for the privileged life with the rich pervert. He had told Ilona the truth: He had desired her as a woman ever since his body told him there was something different and wonderful about women. He had grown up with the stories of the Emperor, the Herceg and other royals who as a matter of course married and bedded their mothers when they ascended to their positions. If they could, then why not he? Antal was an egalitarian at heart. He reasoned he had the same number of limbs as any royal and the same kind of cock so why shouldn't he have the same privileges they did? He was wrong in one respect: his cock wasn't the same as any of the royals. While not blessed with over-great height he had been blessed in other ways. His cock didn't rival a donkey's but it was longer than the distance between the tip of his thumb and little finger when his hand was splayed out and thicker than a boat-pole. It didn't hang down below his knees like some tried to boast theirs did but it was more than adequate to please the whores and village girls he had to console himself with until the gods laid a surprising boon ― and his mother's cunt ― in his lap. ------- Ilona knew all of this. Knew how careful he was and how resourceful, yet she still worried. It was just the mother in her, she told herself. That and the fact he was now her master and she had no idea what would become of her if he were to be caught and executed. Gods only knew where she would be sold if that happened. That and nothing more. Antal had come home that afternoon dead tired. It had been a grueling run with foul weather, sheep that shit and threw-up all over his deck and to top it off he was actually chased by a customs boat for three hours until the channel no longer allowed them to follow. He hadn't even stopped to buy fish to bring into port like he normally did as a cover for his trips. He reasoned the storms over the delta would be enough reason for coming home with empty nets if anyone were actually out looking in this kind of weather. He'd come home, bathed in the cool cistern water, eaten just a little bit and went straight to bed. Later, when she'd finished her duties, she'd slipped into bed with him not even considering trying to lie down anywhere else. For the first time since he'd bought her, with the exceptions of her monthlies, he hadn't rolled her face down and taken her from the rear. He'd woken momentarily as she rolled on her side, muttered something and pressed up against her back draping an arm around her and gently cupping a breast before drifting back off to sleep, nothing more. Ilona was surprised she felt a sense of loss at the lack of his sexual touch although the feel of him holding her protectively was comforting. She awoke later that night as he stirred restlessly next to her. He still lay on his side facing her back but had separated slightly sometime during the night although he was close enough she could feel the heat of his body. That wasn't all she could feel. Even though it was only half hard, she could feel the tip of his cock pressing into the crevice at the top of her thighs, pushing softly against her as he fidgeted and muttered in his sleep. He's worn out and just needs to relax, she thought to herself. Maybe, she rationalized, he just needs to have a release. Then he can sleep. Reaching back between them she gently grasped his member and began to very slowly stroke it as it became harder and harder in her hand. Any mother would do this for her son, she told herself. Any slave, to help her master. I'll just stroke him until he cums, she promised silently. But as if it had a mind of it's own her butt scooted back and her upper leg lifted and spread back over his until his by now very stiff cock was laying between the lips of her cunt. She rocked back and forth stroking him with her pussy like she had been doing with her hand. As she rocked back the tip of his turgid member rubbed lightly over her clit and she moaned in pleasure as small sparks of heat spread out from her nubbin throughout her body. She didn't know exactly when he woke up but suddenly she realized he was gently thrusting back at her and he was no longer softly snoring. Arching her back to give him the angle needed for penetration she used her hand to position him at her entrance while again moving back until he sank about a third of his length into her. "You want this, don't you?" he whispered as his own hand came around to gently toy with one of her hardening nipples. "Yes," she admitted not caring if he thought her a slut for wanting him in her. She'd given up the pretence; she was a woman who wanted her lover's cock inside her. It no longer mattered if it was her son's cock, she just wanted her man to take her and claim what was his. "Good," he whispered and she could almost sense the smile on his lips. She smiled herself; it felt good not to have to pretend anymore. She wanted him to take her and she was going to get what she wanted, what she needed. "But not like this," he said a little more loudly and pulled completely out of her. She whimpered reaching around attempting to bring him back inside of her. She needn't have worried; he quickly sat up and then his strong hands gently rolled her over onto her back. Suddenly he was between her legs; her son, her master was now above her as her eyes fluttered open. It was dark in the room, the storm outside preventing any light, even starlight, from entering. Without realizing it her hands were suddenly behind his head and she could feel the heat of his body just inches away. He was between her legs and she could feel the soft/hard head of his cock nestled between the parted outer lips of her cunt. Unconsciously her legs came up to lock behind his back as he began to push into her. Each slow thrust drove him deeper and she mewled at the pleasant sensation. "You are mine now, aren't you?" he asked. "You are my woman and this is how I make love to my woman." His thrusts were still deep and measured but with each one he began to speed up just that little bit. "Yes, Antal, I am you woman," she moaned. "I am your mother, your woman, your slave, your slut or your whore. I'm anything you want me to be, just so you keep loving me." "I do love you, Mother." It was the first time he had called her by that name. It sounded strange to her. Her man, mounting her as he was, brought them both the ultimate pleasure by calling her his mother. "I love you and I will love you forever. You are mine and this is where you belong." And with his last words he began to thrust into her vigorously, the spongy head of his cock banging against the rubbery hard surface of her cervix with each push. "Oh, Antal!" she moaned as she felt herself once again climbing that mountain leading to her climax. "Antal!" she screamed as her hands found his back and with fingers digging into the sharp clefs of the muscle pulled him down closer as she lifted her head and her lips eagerly sought his. It was their first real kiss as lovers and she almost missed it when, as their lips pressed together, he shuddered, thrust deeply into her releasing his seed deep into her womb. As she felt his warm gift filling her, her own release took hold and she broke her lips away from his screaming, her body trembled and vibrated as the waves of pleasure coursed along her nerves causing her toes to curl and her heels to press against his buttocks in the vain attempt to drive him even deeper into her body. Later after he had rolled them over until she lay on top of him she kissed and nibbled at his neck as they both began their slow descent into sleep again. "I am yours," she whispered sleepily. "You always knew that but now I do too." "You will always be mine," he confirmed as he pulled the covers over them. "And you will never go anywhere else ever again." Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 2 It had been two weeks since her final "submission" and Ilona felt happier than any time since before she had been given to her first husband. She no longer felt like just another fisherman's wife, she felt like a real wife: The kind of feeling every little girl dreamed being married would feel like but were mostly disappointed to find out it didn't usually happen that way. Even though she still wore the collar of a slave, she felt like the woman of a man who loved, cherished and provided for her. It was a heady feeling and she enjoyed every minute of it as she drifted through the marketplace picking up what was needed for the next few days. Antal had been gone for the last two nights but would be back that evening and she was absent-mindedly day-dreaming about what would happen later after they went to bed. Her wanderings brought her to the end of the market that abutted the town's auction blocks, the very same blocks she would have been displayed on if Antal hadn't bought her privately through the court magistrate. Eregli's slave market was relatively small since there was very little demand in the small city. Most locally-procured slaves were either sold privately as Ilona had been or sent to the provincial capital of Corum or even possibly on to the imperial capital of Eskisehir where demand was higher as were the prices. On most days there were only three or four slaves chained to the blocks on display. Normally there were one or two unlucky seamen who had run afoul of the law while ashore, usually from drunkenness or inability to pay their bill at the local whorehouse. They would usually be picked up as extra hands by a ship in port and offered a chance to work for their freedom. Often, it was the same ship they had previously been attached to. Other times one might find a burly farmer unable to pay his taxes although these were usually shipped inland for hard labor. Just as often it might be younger children sold by their families for the extra cash or the chance to reduce the number of mouths to feed. Most of these found positions of servitude in one of the richer houses of the local merchants or those in imperial service. Less often there would be women or older girls, but these normally went as private sales to the whorehouses or as concubines to the well-off in Corum or other larger cities. Absently Ilona noted there were only two slaves on display today: a dark-haired woman about her own age and a younger woman ― girl really ― in about her mid-teens. Both were chained to the same block and naked except for their chains as all slaves were while on display. She turned to reenter the market when she heard her name being called. "Ilona!" Ilona stopped and turned back. The call had come from the woman on the block. "Barbala?" Ilona was shocked; it was Barbala! Barbala's husband, Ferenc, had been a partner with her late husband, Janos, on a number of occasions and they had become good acquaintances, even friends. Of course Ilona hadn't seen Barbala since her own enslavement but that was to be expected. Ferenc had been one of Janos' creditors and one of the primaries in the suit that ultimately led to her becoming a slave. It was unlikely that, even if she had wanted to, Barbala would have been allowed to associate with her after she had been bought. Ilona held no bitterness towards her former friend; the world is what it is. "Barbala, is that you? What in the world are you doing there? Is that Catalyn?" Catalyn was Barbala's sixteen-year-old daughter, a pretty young thing but spoiled and abrasive in temperament. It appeared slavery hadn't changed that since in addition to her chains Catalyn also wore a gag tied tightly across her mouth. "I'm afraid so," Barbala sighed. "Ferenc lost quite a bit of money when Janos died ― not that the business was going very well even when he was alive. You knew they were losing money on every deal they made, didn't you? Well, after Janos died he started borrowing trying to make it work, as if pouring money into bad business was going to turn it around. Oh well ... Ferenc wasn't the brightest man around." They had often joked between themselves that neither one of their husbands could win a battle of wits with a tree stump. "Yes, but what happened, Bala?" Ilona asked. "Like I said, he was pouring good money after bad and it finally caught up with him," she shrugged. "He began borrowing money to pay off the loans he'd lost ... Well, like I said it finally caught up with him." "So why isn't he out here instead of you?" she asked. In most cases the party responsible for the debt was the one auctioned off if it came to that. In Ilona's case the responsibility had come to her after her husband's death since she was the sole inheritor of his estate. Usually the spouse and descendents of the debtor would be excluded from that form of punishment unless they could be shown to be equally involved in the decisions leading up to the debt. In Barbala's case any number of witnesses could have been brought to swear Ferenc allowed no meddling in his business by a "mere" woman; she should have been excused, destitute maybe but still excused and therefore free. "The cowardly bastard killed himself last week," Barbala hissed. "The eunuch wasn't man enough to take his punishment for his own stupidity. The asshole even took the woman's way out and poisoned himself! So with him dead and me the heir ... Well, you certainly understand. Here we are." Ilona nodded in complete understanding; then she had another thought. "But what about Catalyn, Bala? Certainly she wouldn't have been considered responsible for what happened?" "Ah, yes. Catalyn, my darling daughter," Barbala looked at the morose Catalyn with sadness. "My darling, precious, idiot daughter. Well, you know how she can be sometimes: quite a handful. She decides to have one of her screaming fits during the proceedings and so annoyed the magistrate he fined her for contempt of court. Of course she has no money so ... Again, here we are." "I am so sorry, Bala," Ilona said with genuine sympathy. "But you seem to be taking it well." "It is what it is," Bala shrugged. "To whom am I going to cry? You? I could hardly do that considering it happened to you also. I'm told if they can't sell us here soon we'll probably be sent up to Corum and sold to a whorehouse. At least I might actually get laid out of this. That piss-ant Ferenc hasn't been able to get it up for years." "Oh, Bala," Ilona held her hand over her mouth to hide the smile that came unexpectedly. "Hey, what are you doing there?" came a shout from beyond the blocks. The city's slavemaster strode up to them and looked down at Ilona. "What do you think you're doing? You can't be talking to the merchandise and chasing off all my customers." He noticed her slave collar and grunted disgustedly. "Shit, you're just a slave. You can't buy anything, anyway. Get on out of here before I tell your master and have you soundly beaten." "I'm sorry, sir," Ilona answered contritely as she lowered her eyes. "My master mentioned something about looking for household servants and I stopped to see if these two might be what he's looking for. I'll be going now." "Wait!" the slave-master said quickly then rubbed his chin. "Your master's looking for household slaves, eh? Well, I'll tell you what: There's not much chance of selling these two around here anytime in the near future. In fact I was going to go ahead and send them both up to Corum in the next caravan. If he wants a good deal, I can see what we can do. Prices even up in Corum aren't that great nowadays and if he buys now I can save the freight and I'd be willing to figure that into the price. When do you think he would be available?" "He should be home this evening, sir," Ilona answered respectfully. "If he is interested, I'm sure he could be down tomorrow morning." "Good. If he's interested, have him see me then," the slavemaster said dismissively and started to turn away. "May I stay and talk to these two, sir," Ilona said quickly. "Just to make sure they would be appropriate for his household?" "What? Oh, sure. Talk to them all you want. Except that one," he said pointing to Catalyn. "The little bitch bit me this morning and for all I care she can stay gagged until she's sold or drops dead, whichever comes first. The only reason I didn't beat her to within a thread of her life was I didn't want to put any marks on her. But I was beginning to rethink that before you came along. "I'm not selling any used-boats here, so I'm not going to lie to anyone: That one is a real bitch and she's going to need some vigorous training." Catalyn glared at him. "He's going to wear out a number of whips on that one if he buys her. But hell, maybe he likes that. Takes all kinds. Have him come by if he's interested. By the way, you can tell him I'm selling them together, not apart. I'll give him a two-for-one deal but I'm not putting up with that little cunt any longer than I have to." With that he turned and walked away. "Your master might be interested in us?" Barbala asked Ilona after he was out of earshot. "Who is your master, by the way? I never did hear exactly what happened to you. I'd assumed you'd been sold up to Corum." "Antal the Smuggler ... My son," Ilona answered reddening slightly. She was sure Barbala would understand, correctly, that he had been bedding her. "Antal? Antal the Smuggler? He's your son?" Barbala said looking at her expectantly as Ilona nodded. "I remember him; sturdy lad if I remember. I haven't seen him for what ... four years or more? He's the one who bought you? That must be interesting. Is he good to you?" "After I was suitably ... domesticated," Ilona said reddening even more. "Yes, he has been very good to me. I don't know if he will agree or not. I will ask him." "Ask him right after he cums," Barbala chuckled. "They're always more agreeable then." "I'll ... I'll ask," Ilona stuttered. "Until when, Bala. Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow but I have to go now." "Okay, Ilona, until when," Barbala called to her retreating back. "And you tell him if he does buy us, we will be the best house slaves he could ever want." ------- "Antal?" Ilona asked softly. Her head was resting on his chest, fingers idly playing with his chest hairs. "Hmm?" he grunted eyes closed and flat on his back. His homecoming hadn't been anything exceptional. He had arrived just before evening meal but his hunger was for something other than food. The meal was set aside for later as he took master's due from her body for the next hour and a half. Ilona certainly had no complaint as she loudly voiced her own pleasure through three orgasms. Twice she came as he took her forcefully from behind and then again as he lay on top of her gently thrusting into her body as her legs wrapped around his hips clenching him tightly. She enjoyed being desired as a woman and no longer complained about any use he made of her. Not that complaining would have been acceptable in any case; she was still his slave and expected to accept whatever he desired. That she also found it pleasurable was only a bonus. "Can I ask a favor of you?" "You can ask," he said without opening his eyes. "In fact I'm feeling pretty generous right now. You felt wonderful tonight. I never thought I'd care one way or another about coming home to this after every trip but I'm not ashamed to say I could get used to it." "I'm glad," Ilona said snuggling in even closer. She reached up and drew the hand that had been lying on her shoulder around until it was cupping her breast. "Not that it matters, but I enjoy it too." "Oh, it matters," he mumbled. "Not that it would stop me, you hear, but I'm glad you also enjoy it." "I do, I really do," she answered. "But back to the favor ... It's a big favor and I don't know how you'll take it." "All right, I'm intrigued," he said sitting up with his back against the headboard of the bed. He easily dragged her over until she was sitting on his lap and let his hands roam up and down her body as she moaned under his touch. "Do you remember Barbala, Ferenc's wife?" she asked, looking up at him. "Faintly," he said looking down at her curiously. "Big tits, black hair; she always seemed nice, but Ferenc was almost as big an asshole as Janos." "You would remember her tits," Ilona teased but then moaned again as he cupped one of her breasts and gave it a firm squeeze. "Oh, that feels good. Anyway, I agree Ferenc was an asshole but you're right: Barbala was always nice to me. In fact I've always considered her my friend, maybe my only friend. Well, I met her in the market today." "That's nice," he said noncommittally. "Or was it? She wasn't nasty to you, was she, because you're now a slave? I'm sorry to hear that but there's not much I can do about that." "Oh no, nothing like that," Ilona hurriedly assured him. Quickly she continued on to tell him of their meeting and why Barbala was now a slave. "That's a shame," Antal shrugged. "Like I said, she was always nice to me so I'm sorry this happened to her but I still don't see that there's much I can do about it. It doesn't surprise me that Ferenc was a coward as well as an asshole. It's just a shame she got caught up in it also. Kind of like you except I'm not sorry that happened at all. What's this favor you wanted?" "I'm glad it happened to me also," Ilona smiled, hugged him and then took a deep breath. "What I'm asking is if you would consider buying her. The slavemaster said the prices on slaves are very low now and he'd rather not send her up to Corum so he'd be willing to give you a very good deal." "What's the matter?" he chuckled. "Am I working you so hard you need another woman around here to get the work done?" "I'm getting everything done just fine, thank you very much," she answered slapping him lightly on the chest. "If I wasn't I believe my master would have let me know of my failings until my bottom was so red I couldn't sit down. No, it's not that. But she was my friend ― still is ― and if I can save her from being sold as a prostitute in Corum I would like to." "Well..." he mused, scratching his chin and pretending to think about it. "She was a fine looking woman and she did have those big tits..." Ilona just smiled and shook her head. "But do you really want another woman in your household? I mean I just might decide she needs to be bedded too." "Your household, my master," she answered with a small grin. "And what you do with your slaves is your will." Still sitting in his lap she stretched out her legs and gave a little groan. "Besides the way you used me I don't think I'll be able to close my legs for a couple of days. Maybe having another woman around for you to ravage will allow my poor little pussy to recover now and then." He roared with laughter. "As you wish, my poor little abused slave," he said still chuckling. "If you want, I will talk to the slavemaster and see what kind of outrageous price he wants for your friend. But I warn you, if she causes any trouble, or you for that matter, I'll sell her for fish bait quick enough." "Oh, Barbala would never cause any trouble, I promise," Ilona said quickly. "But..." "But what?" Antal asked guardedly. "But she comes with a little something extra," Ilona whispered not looking up at him. "Something extra? What is that? She have a third tit or something? Hopefully she doesn't have a cock too because that I'm not interested in at all." "No, nothing like that," Ilona answered quickly. "Well, not exactly like that. No cock that I know of but as for the tit ... Not a third tit but two extra tits." "Okay, I'm intrigued again," he said scratching his head. "This I've got to hear." "It's her daughter, Catalyn," Ilona admitted. "He's selling them together, as a pair. In fact he said he'd give you both for the price of one," she said brightly hoping he wouldn't delve into the reason why very deeply. That was one hope that wouldn't be realized. "Catalyn? I think I remember her," he said. "Didn't she come over a couple of times when Ferenc was over for dinner? A pretty little girl if I remember but a spoiled bitch clear through to the bone. Treated me like shit even though she was only ten or twelve. In fact she acted like I was some kind of fucking servant." He paused and resumed musing, "I suppose that was to be expected since Janos treated me the same way. "Anyway, why would she also be on the block? I can understand Barbala, but Catalyn should have been clear of that; she wasn't the heir, was she? If she had been then Barbala wouldn't have been on the block." "Well..." Ilona hesitated for a second, sighed and told him why Catalyn was also being sold as a slave. She decided to be completely honest and also told him about the gag and why it had been put in place. "No shit?" he asked laughing. "And you want to bring this hellion into our house? Why would I want to do that? I can see nothing but trouble in that future." "Maybe," Ilona admitted. "I'm not so sanguine about it myself, but I really do want to help Barbala and unfortunately he was very clear he would sell them as a pair or not at all." She paused for a moment and wiggled her bottom around on his lap causing his cock to begin to fill with blood again. "Are you trying to manipulate me with your feminine wiles?" he asked with a frown. "Yes," she answered with a grin. "Is it working?" "Maybe," he answered breaking into a grin himself. "It may not be so bad," Ilona said. "Catalyn's a spoiled brat ― of that there is no doubt ― but I believe with a strong hand ― and there is no stronger hand than yours, Antal ― she can be instructed in the error of her ways. If nothing else, maybe you can have her shackled and have Barbala beat her ass raw. That's something that should have been done years ago." "I suppose," he said staring up at the ceiling thinking. "Very well. I know I'm going to regret this, but I'll go talk to the slavemaster tomorrow. "But you, my beautiful slave, will pay for this favor," he said pushing her down the bed towards his feet. "You will use your mouth to clean me up and harden my rod then you will ride me until my pleasure is complete." "Yes, Master. A slave's work is never done," Ilona smirked as she scrambled to position herself between his legs. Grasping his quickly hardening phallus she greedily guided it to her open and willing mouth to begin the less-than-onerous task of paying for her favor. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 3 Antal entered his house just before the noon meal with a scowl and was followed by his two new slaves. Apprehensively, Ilona met them at the door wondering if something had gone wrong. Regardless of her son's disposition she rushed over to hug her friend. "Barbala! You're here!" she cried. "Thanks to Master Antal," Barbala sighed into Ilona's shoulder. "Did everything go well, Master?" Ilona asked looking over at her son. "Easy enough," Antal answered with an exasperated snort. "As you said the slavemaster was most anxious to be rid of these two. He didn't even pretend to drive a hard bargain. I think if I'd held out for a while longer he would have paid me to take them. The registration fees and taxes cost more than they did." "You won't be sorry, Master," Barbala said releasing Ilona and walking over to kneel at his feet. "You have saved my daughter and me and we won't forget it. We are yours to do with as you please. I promise we will be the best slaves a man could have." "I'm already sorry," he grumped. "That one," he said stabbing a finger towards Catalyn, "can't shut up! I swear if she bitches about one more thing, I'm going to choke her!" "You wouldn't dare!" the object of his displeasure shouted. "Mother, tell him! This has been a terrible mistake and as soon as they realize it we'll be back where we belong!" "Cat, dear," Barbala soothed. "You must be quiet now. We belong to Master Antal now and we must serve him as best we can. I know you don't understand all of this but it is the way it will be and we must accept it. You just don't understand how bad it could have been if he hadn't graciously agreed to buy us." "Oh, they wouldn't have really done that to us," Catalyn said flippantly. "I know that horrible man said he would sell us as prostitutes but that was just to scare us. I am far too beautiful," she said running her fingers through her long coal black hair. It was dank, dirty and full of tangles now but Antal could just see the little wench sitting in front of a mirror primping. "Besides," she continued, "Father had many suitors begging for my hand. One of them will come to rescue me once they hear what injustice has been done and I will make sure they rescue you at the same time, Mother." As irritated as he had been with the little vixen who had begun complaining the very second the gag had been removed from her mouth, he began laughing uncontrollably to the extent he had to stagger to a chair and sit down before he fell down. He just sat there chuckling at her seemingly unlimited ability to deny the basic truth of her situation. "Stop laughing at me!" she shouted stamping her foot causing the pert young breast to jiggle under her shapeless slave's tunic. "Mother, stop him from laughing at me!" "Hush, Catalyn, please" Barbala twittered ineffectually as she wrung her hands in front of her. "Please, Sir, she is just young..." "That's enough, Barbala," Antal said mildly waving her to silence. He leaned back and rubbed his chin as if thinking. "Hmm, maybe everybody has been looking at you from the wrong direction, Catalyn. Instead of looking at you as an everyday household slave or bedmate maybe they should have been looking at you as something more like, oh ... say ... a court jester. Certainly this must be an act; nobody could be so completely in denial of her circumstances. To be sure, this is funny but I can see this act will get tiresome if used over much. "Enough of this," he said suddenly standing before she could respond. "I have purchased the two of you as a favor to Ilona, Barbala, because of the friendship the two of you have shared. I have no need for any other servants or women for that matter but here you are. But I want it made perfectly clear I do not intend to have myself disturbed by this. I'll get rid of one or both of you if that happens. "My rules are simple: You will do what you are told when you are told. You may complain all you want; just make sure I don't hear it. Ilona is the mistress of this house and you will do what she tells you as if I were the one giving you the order. Now come with me." Catalyn was still fuming but she at least remained quiet as he led them back into the house. Before Antal had bought it, the house belonged to a reasonably prosperous woodworker. It had the one main living/dining area; a kitchen and three rooms in the rear. One was a bedroom he shared with Ilona. Another was slightly smaller in size and presently empty while the third was half again as large and had been used by the previous owner as a storeroom/workshop. The woodworker hadn't used this as his principal work area or shop having one of those somewhere in the trade area of Eregli proper. But there were still some remnants of his woodworking trade still there that the bachelor Antal had never bothered removing. "You two can have either one of these rooms," he said as they stopped in the hallway. "Or both; I don't care. One of your first duties will be to buy your bedding and some appropriate clothing; Ilona will help you with that. "Now you," he said pointedly to Catalyn. "I'm not one who enjoys beating anyone." He bent down a picked up a thumb-thick dowel from the floor and swished it around in the air. "If I wanted to I could beat you bloody with this." Catalyn's eyes grew round and she began to quiver. "And to tell the truth it would probably serve you well if I did. Maybe it would beat the stupidity out of you. But I don't need this." he said taking the dowel in both hands and broke it cleanly in half as easily as Ilona might have broken a loaf of bread and tossed the two pieces to the floor. "If I need to, I can do it myself. Do I make myself clear?" All three women gasped and stared at the pieces of wood on the floor. A body's length of that dowel would have easily supported the weight of a grown man and Antal had broken it seemingly without effort. As one, they looked back up at him and nodded. Antal snorted; he was pretty sure no matter how cowed the little bitch seemed right now it wouldn't be long before something more would be needed. "I'm going down to look to my boats," he said plucking from his belt a small bag that clinked as he tossed it to Ilona. "You can take care of their needs once you've made me something to take with me." ------- He returned home a little before the evening meal to find it ready and the house in order. All three women met him at the door, two with smiles and the third with slitted eyes and pursed lips but ― gratefully ― at least with silence. Well, he thought, raising an eyebrow, maybe they talked some sense into the little twit. He sat at the head of the table in his accustomed seat while Ilona finished preparing the meal and Barbala served him. He noted Barbala and Catalyn were no longer in slave tunics but nice quality, if plain, house shifts of the kind Ilona generally wore. The neckline of Barbala's shift plunged down between her breasts exposing the tops as she walked and a great deal more when she bent over to load his plate. He unabashedly admired the proffered view of her large and seemingly still very firm bounty while she seemed to be in no hurry to hide them, remaining bent over far longer than one would think was reasonably necessary for the task. In fact, when his eyes did finally glance up at her face her eyes stared right back at his and she smiled. She giggled a little as he lightly swatted her bottom as she walked away. Barbala, at least, didn't seem to be having any problems with her new circumstance although Catalyn stared daggers at him from her place near the foot of the table. He just ignored her. Ilona finished the rest of the meal and brought it in to set on the table before taking her accustomed seat next to him. Barbala stood next to Catalyn nervously. "Cat," she whispered but it was loud enough for everybody to hear her. "Come on, honey. We must leave the master to eat his meal in peace." "No need for that," Antal said waving a knife towards the chair next to him on the other side from Ilona. "Only one table. Sit down. Eat." "We never had the servants eat with us," Barbala explained as she tentatively sat next to him. "Ferenc would never have allowed it." "Well I'm not Ferenc and I've never had servants before," he said taking a large bite of meat. "At least none that would serve me. I always had to eat with them in the kitchen, so I guess that's what I'm used to." He noticed Catalyn picking at her food. "Not to your liking?" he enquired mildly. "Oh, no," Barbala said quickly although Catalyn remained silent. "Ilona is a wonderful cook. I wish I could do half so well. I'm afraid my days in the kitchen are far in the past, back when I still lived with my parents." "Well, you'll learn," he said without rancor. "Ignorance can be cured; stupid can't and I'm sure you aren't stupid." It was perfectly clear to at least two of the females at the table that his words held more than one meaning. "Anybody can learn anything once they've set their mind to it." "Oh, we will! I can assure you of that," Barbala responded quickly. "I'm sure you will," he agreed. Dinner passed quickly and while Ilona and Barbala instructed a reluctant Catalyn on her duties as scullery maid, Antal sat in his favorite chair under lamplight and read recent postings of tax and duty rates along with bids for specific goods being requested by local merchants and factors on handbills hand-printed by slave scribes on the stiff paper made in the south from the same hemp plant used to make rope. Every once in a while he would dip his stylus in the ink pot and make a note alongside something or other. Unlike most of his contemporaries who tried to smuggle what they thought were the highest-priced goods, Antal studied the prevailing market in Eregli and its surrounding towns looking for what would give him the highest return on each trip, not just the highest price. Sometimes wool might seem like a good investment because it was bringing the highest price on the docks but he also knew its price was high at the port of origin, making the total return less. At times like that it might be better to smuggle in the sheep themselves instead of just their wool if for no other reason than they could be sold for their meat which was always in demand. Most of his fellow smugglers would turn up their noses at such a smelly cargo but one of the reasons Antal was so successful, i.e. profitable, was that he didn't care one whit what he smuggled; he just cared about how much he got for it. Soon everything was cleaned and put away and it was time for bed. Antal and Ilona retired to their room with the master of the house looking forward to playing with his favorite slave again. Just as they had snuggled down under the covering blanket he heard a soft rapping at the door. "Come in," he said loudly even as he cupped one of Ilona's soft breasts with his large hand. In response Barbala opened the door and quickly slipped into the room closing the door behind her. "Yes?" "Master," she said softly her eyes cast down to the floor. "I wanted to thank you again for what you have done for us. I think I could have survived what was planned for us although I might have wished not to, but I know Catalyn couldn't have. You have given us back our lives." "I did it as a favor to Ilona as I said," he answered. "You were always kind to me so I consider it no real burden. I will admit, though, I do have some reservations about your daughter." "She has been sheltered, Master," Barbala admitted. "I ― we ― indulged her too much. I know that and she is spoiled and petulant but I believe she will grow out of it in time." "See to it that it's a short time," he said firmly. "You are responsible for her behavior and will need to take her in hand. If I have to do it, neither one of you will enjoy it. That I can promise." "I will, Master," she nodded. "You can dispense with the 'Master' crap, too," he said gruffly. "I know what I am and what you are. There's no need to say it continually. I don't need someone bending a knee to me all the time to make me feel good. Antal will do just fine most of the time." "Very well, Mast- Antal," she said looking up at him with a smile. "Will there be anything else?" he asked. "Well," she said slowly, "I thought you might like to enjoy the use of one of your new slaves tonight." "Oh, you did?" he said raising an eyebrow. "You know I didn't buy you for that reason. I have a woman here and I think one's quite enough for me. I don't intend to replace her." "Oh, I never thought I could replace Ilona," Barbala said and her hand went up to the tie on her shift. Pulling the leather thong, the shift parted slightly and fell off her shoulders and down to pool on the floor at her feet. "I would never want to do that to my friend. However I was wondering if the master has ever had two women in his bed before? Besides, someone told me you liked my breasts." She was naked in front of them and Antal had to admit Barbala was just as good looking as his mother. Fuller of figure for sure and not just in the breast. Although nowhere near fat, she was softly padded with thick silky thighs, well rounded hips, with a waist narrow enough to accentuate them and her breasts, although those really needed no help in looking large. "No I never did but―" he started. "I said he liked your tits, you randy slut," Ilona said with a laugh. "I don't mind, Antal; really I don't." "Are you sure?" he asked. "Really," she nodded. "Besides there is more than enough of you for two women. Powers, do I know that. Maybe if you fuck this silly slut a few times to take the edge off, I won't be walking bowlegged every day. Besides, a real master wouldn't ask his slave for permission to fuck another of his slaves," she teased. "I already told you I'm not a very experienced master," he admitted. "We'll work on that," she said with a grin. "Now get that big-titted cow over here before she makes a puddle on our floor." "You don't have to tell me twice," he shrugged and looked at Barbala. "You heard the mistress of the house, wench. Get over here and service your master." Barbala squealed and scampered over to crawl on the bed with them. "Maybe I am a slut," she groaned. "But I am looking forward to being ravished, finally. That Ferenc was such a prissy little bastard. He only fucked me once every month or so even before he stopped completely." "I always thought Ferenc was an idiot just for being a partner with Janos," Antal said grasping one of her large breasts firmly. "Now I know he was an idiot for wasting prime stock like this." "Mmm, that feels good," Barbala moaned. "Harder, please. I like it hard." He squeezed until her nipple practically popped out between his thumb and forefinger. "Oh yes! Just like that! You really do like my tits, don't you?" She moved up enough so that she could cup her free breast offering it to his mouth. He drew it in and began licking it with his tongue while sucking on it. "Oh yes!" she moaned again. "Bite on it, please! Chew on me!" He did as she wished, biting down on her nipple hard enough for it to be felt and maybe hurt just a little but not hard enough to break the skin. "Ouch! That feels good!" "You do like it rough," he chuckled letting her nubbin pop out of his mouth for the moment. "A little," she admitted. "I've always dreamed of this and it feels even better now that it's really happening. Ever since I was old enough to know boys were different, I've wanted a man who would just take me and do whatever he wanted, whether or not I agreed." She paused for a moment and giggled. "Maybe I should have been born a slave. I seem to be better suited for that than just an ordinary wife and mother." "Well, we'll see if the fantasy really lives up to real life," he grinned evilly. Reaching up he grasped her shoulders and quickly dragged her down to the bed beside him while Ilona scooted out of the way. She landed on her back as he threw the covers off himself and stood up coming around to the foot of the bed so he could look down at her through her slightly splayed legs. Glancing up, Barbala at first only saw his blocky, heavily muscled body, looking to her more like a bull with a man's head than just a man. Her gaze traveled downward until it rested on his groin. "Oh Powers!" she gasped. "I've never seen one that big! You're going to split me in half!" "We'll just have to see won't we?" he leered bending down to spread her legs at the knees as he knee-walked onto the bed. "This master is going to take his slave even if he does split her in two. What do you say to that, slave? I'm going to fuck you until my cock comes out of your mouth and there's not a damn thing you can do. Do you like that, slave?" "Shit," she hissed as his strong hands lifted her legs at the knees bringing her ass up and off the mattress slightly and opening her up to him. Hunching down just a little while still keeping eye contact with the stunned woman he moved his hips until the head of his jutting manhood found her moist slit by itself. He thrust forward a couple of times but his cock seemed to just slide along her slit and up to her belly without penetrating. He grunted in exasperation after doing this a few times thinking he was going to have to release at least one leg while he positioned himself which was not what he wanted to do. But before he needed to do that he felt someone else's hand grasp his rock-hard member and guide it to its target. With that assistance he began to move forward slowly and began to enter his new slave as she squealed. She was moist but not completely ready for him and it took some effort to continue his initial plunge. He didn't let that stop him, though. He didn't just slam into her but he didn't stop and allow her time to become accustomed to him either. Slowly but surely he continued pushing into the flailing woman until he finally felt the spongy head of his cock butt up against the rubbery hardness of her cervix. At that time he did pause enjoying the feel as her vaginal muscles clenched and unclenched around him. "Oh, Master!" she sighed her body suddenly going limp even as her internal muscles continued to massage him. "That feels wonderful. Now fuck me please. Fuck me like you'd fuck a slave. Use my body for your pleasure. Use me to slake your lust not caring how it feels for me or what it does to me. Shit! I feel like I've been impaled on an oar handle!" "I will use you, slut," he grunted. "You're just a cunt to make my cock feel good. Your only purpose in this life is to keep my cock warm and hold my seed when I give it to you so it doesn't dirty the bed sheets. I'm going to fuck you so hard and so deep you'll swear I was in your damn stomach." As he said it he began to pull out and slowly push back inside her. Belying his harsh words his thrusts were firm but slow allowing her to become accustomed to his invading shaft and begin to secrete her own natural lubricating oils. It didn't take long before he was gliding in and out of her tight tunnel without causing her any discomfort. "Oh, Master! My ... Master!" she wailed as he began to quicken his thrusts until he was pounding into her causing her ass to bounce up and down on the mattress in time with his strokes. She wailed even louder as he gave one final vicious lunge and buried himself as deeply inside of her as he possibly could. She felt a momentary sharp pain when the head of his cock banged solidly up against her cervix but the pain quickly passed as she was overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure she had never felt before. Later she swore she could actually feel his cock enlarge slightly pulsing as it pumped his semen and seed directly into the mouth of her womb. Her vision blanked out and her body shook and quivered uncontrollably as he emptied his essence into her. The next thing she remembered was the wondrous feeling of being crushed into the mattress by his weight and she wrapped her arms and legs around him hoping to hold him there for as long as possible. They stayed that way for a few minutes until he recognized her labored breathing and rolled off to one side even as she whimpered her disapproval. "Thank you, Master," she whispered into his ear as he lay on his back and she cuddled up next to him. "You're not too bad yourself, slave," he chuckled. "As for you," Barbala said whipping her head around to look at a grinning Ilona. "How could you have kept this all to yourself, bitch?" "You were a married woman, slut," Ilona chuckled. "Besides I was just a lowly slave servicing her master. What could I do?" "Becoming a slave has got to be the best thing that has ever happened to me," Barbala sighed and tried to snuggle in even closer to Antal. "Enough of that, slave," Antal said lightly slapping her exposed rear end. "Get your lazy ass down there and clean me off. I still have another slave to take care of." "By the Powers! You're ready to go again?" she asked amazed. "Not yet," he corrected. "But I will be by the time you're done." "Oh yes, Master!" she cried as she scampered down to begin cleaning Antal's semi-flaccid penis with her tongue. "Your mere wish is my command!" Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 4 For the next few weeks everything went as well as could be expected but there was a storm brewing on the horizon and everybody knew it. Of course that storm's name was Catalyn. "You spoiled her," Antal grunted with disgust. "I know I did, Master," Barbala sobbed as she knelt at his feet, eyes directed at the floor and wringing her hands in front of her. The mid-morning sun streaming through the window glinted off her slave collar. "I've never been able to say no to her," she continued. "But now she won't do anything I say. Or Ilona either. I beg you not to hurt her badly, Master, but it is becoming too much for both of us. She won't do her chores; calls us both nothing but sluts or whores and laughs when we threaten to tell you." She paused for a second before continuing in a whisper. "She's even taken her collar off at night and sometimes during the day. Maybe even outside." Anton sat up a bit straighter when hearing that. A slave was required by law to wear the collar at all times and the consequences for being caught without it were severe for both the slave and possibly the slave's master. For the slave it was an immediate death sentence and if the courts found that the master allowed or even knew of this breach he might find himself on the wrong end of the chains himself. "I warned you, you wouldn't like it if I had to get involved," he said. "I know, Master," she answered trembling. "If you beat me I know I deserve it. I shouldn't have let her become so uncontrollable as a child. I loved her too much." "You can never love too much," he admonished and then looked over at Ilona standing by nervously. "But love must be tempered with a firm hand. The tree grows as the sapling is bent and once the tree is grown it can be difficult and sometimes painful to straighten it again. Painful for the tree, that is." "I accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, Master," Barbala sobbed now crying. "Shall I bring you a whip to beat me?" "I don't own a whip, Bala," he said softly. "And I won't beat you or your bitchy daughter, although you might end up wishing it'd been that easy." He sighed and sat back in his chair. "Bring her to me. Let's see if the young tree can be encouraged to grow straight without having to break it." "Yes, Master," Barbala said jumping up and running towards the back rooms. Antal looked at Ilona again and frowned. "I am sorry, Antal," she said softly. "Not your fault," he grunted. "Well, not all your fault, anyway. We could all see this coming." Her answer was cut off by Barbala returning with a petulant Catalyn in tow. "You wanted me?" she asked angrily. "Beware your mouth, slave," he responded coldly. "Kneel in front of your master and you will address me appropriately as you do so." "I won't kneel before a thief," she said flinging her hair back over her shoulder. "I'm no thief, girl," he said dangerously. "Smuggler, thief, it makes no difference. You're still a criminal and when you're caught they will hang you by the neck in the town square with the other garbage." Quick as a pouncing jungle cat Antal was out of his chair and had the young woman by the throat with one hand. Gently he squeezed until she could no longer breathe and her face began to turn purple. Her hands came up to beat on his arms with about as much affect as a kitten against a lion. "I said kneel before me, slave," he commanded. "You know I could just as easily snap your neck as not." Slowly she knelt down and when he finally released her she dropped the final few hand-spans causing a sharp pain in her knees as she coughed and gasped for breath. "Yes," she said breathing in deeply and then with only a short hesitation, "Master." "Better," he said retaking his seat. "Now we have a few things to discuss. By discuss I mean there are a number of things I will tell you and then you will do them. Understand?" "Yes," she said with a frown. "Master." "Better, but still not good enough," he said shaking his head. "It has come to my attention that your behavior lately has been less than acceptable." "Who told you?" she said hotly. "These sluts? You can't believe them!" "Oh, I think I can," he grinned. It wasn't a pleasant sight and the two older women cringed slightly. "Especially since I told your mother I would punish her right alongside of you if she couldn't control you. Her coming to me had to be difficult and frightening. She at least has an understanding of what I can do." Before Catalyn could respond he continued. "Your calling them sluts and whores was one such complaint. Your own mouth has shown me the truth of that." "They are sluts and whores!" she shouted. "You fuck them whenever you want and they spread their legs like bitches in heat when you crook your little finger." "They are my slaves, my women. I will use them as I please," he answered mildly causing the older women to cringe and even shudder. Neither one of them had ever seen Antal really angry but it didn't take experience to see he was getting that way very quickly. Maybe it was the ignorance of youth but it was plain to see the young woman was completely oblivious to the fact she was dancing on a knife edge between disaster and even worse. "But they enjoy it," she spat. "They even encourage it! Only a whore or a slut would do that." "Whether they do or not is immaterial," he said. "It does not displease me that they enjoy it, but that is not a consideration. They do my will because it is what I want. Any other reason is for them to know and I care not one wit for it." "It's disgusting!" Catalyn hissed. "Beware little one," he said with his face as emotionless as stone. "You are my slave as much as they are. Because I have not taken you before now does not mean I won't." "Ha!" Catalyn laughed. "You and your little sprig will never have me! Fuck your old bags of lard as much as you want to. You'll never have me!" "Oh, Cat," Barbala whispered softly. "Won't I?" Antal grinned evilly again. Again too quickly for her to react he was up and carrying her by the waist over to the other chair they owned. He flung her down over the back of the chair. Ilona noted it was the same chair over which he had originally taken her. Antal pressed down on her back so she couldn't get up. Her head and arms hung down over the padded portion of the chair while her legs flailed ineffectually in the air. Because of her position her housedress came up to her knees and Antal could see her slender but shapely legs sticking out from under it. "Tie her hands down," he demanded. "Now!" Ilona rushed to do his bidding and after a moment's hesitation Barbala did the same. Once Catalyn's hands were secured he could take his hand from her back and she was still immobilized and unable to move just like a bug on the end of a pin. "Release me, you bastard!" Catalyn screamed. "Mother, make him let me go!" "Oh, Cat," Barbala answered sadly. "There is nothing I can do. You did this to yourself. "Master," she turned to Antal imploringly. "Punish me instead, please! She is still so young." "I am punishing you," he said without rancor. "You will have to watch as I demonstrate to this little bitch her position in life. Mother, bring me the oil." Ilona hurried out to get him what he wanted, silently grateful he was planning to use the oil just as he had with her. Later she would explain to Barbala that other men might not have ― probably would not have. That course could have quite probably damaged Catalyn much more than she would be otherwise. "Catalyn," he said calmly over her sobbing. "You are my slave. My slave. I own you just as much as I own this chair. I can, and will, do with you whatever I please. You don't understand this but soon you will." Standing between her legs he grabbed her dress with both hands and pulled up and apart causing it to rip up her back to the neckline where it hung together by a single thread. He flung it to each side exposing her legs, ass and most of her back. She tried to clench her legs and asscheeks together but couldn't because of the position he was standing. "Very nice," he said as he reached down to fondle her hips, ass and the tops of her thighs. "Maybe I should have done this sooner. You are a fine looking young woman and my cock will enjoy being buried inside you." Ilona returned and started to hand him the urn of oil but he refused, instead pointing to Barbala. It was understood who would be preparing him, and her, for Catalyn's deflowering. "You are my master!" Catalyn screamed while still sobbing. "You are my master! I understand! I understand!" "You say you understand," he said. "But after today I know you will understand, and every day after as I use you for my pleasure you will get a better understanding." Pausing in his fondling he unfastened his breeches and let them fall to the floor pooling around his feet. He stepped out of them and kicked them aside. His cock was jutting out but still not fully hard. He motioned for Barbala to approach them. "Prepare me," he said and she poured some of the oil onto her hand, set the urn down and began rubbing the oil between both hands. Grasping his cock she gently covered it making sure it was well coated. "Now her," he continued when she was finished. "Thank you, Master," she said softly as she picked up the urn and poured more oil into her palm. Using her cupped fingers she applied and then spread the oil on her daughter's sparsely-haired slit making sure to insert her fingers into the opening Catalyn tried to keep clenched against her. "Relax, Cat," Barbala said soothingly. "Relax and open up. It will be much less painful if you just accept this and don't fight it." "Oh, Mother!" Cat whined. "How could you? You're helping him rape me!" "Some man will get between your legs, darling," Barbala answered, her voice had a slight edge to it. "If it isn't Master Antal then it would have been your husband or maybe that neighbor boy you'd been making eyes at. Now open up and let a real man make a woman of you." She finished, wiped her hands off on Catalyn's torn dress. "Master," she said looking at Antal, "your slave is ready for your pleasure." "Thank you, Bala," he said and then leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I'll make this as painless as possible but you understand why it must be done, don't you?" Barbala nodded and sighed. "All right, slave. Spread your legs," he ordered. "No! Please, no!" she cried. "I'll be good, I promise!" "If you don't spread you legs then I'll fuck you in your ass and not your cunt," he said ignoring her plea. Sobbing she slowly parted her legs just a little. "Up the ass it is then," he said and suddenly she stretched her legs apart as far as she could. Chuckling, he stepped forward and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her oil-slicked slit. After doing that a couple of times he centered the head and began pushing. She howled as the bulbous knob pushed apart the soft folds of her virgin pussy and began to enter the unused territory. As with her mother, he pushed forward slowly but firmly only pausing momentarily as he came up against the thin obstruction of her maidenhead. He felt it tear as he pushed past it and she lifted her head and screamed only to let it fall forward again as he continued his progress into the center of her body. Long before he had fully impaled himself he bumped up against the hard surface of her young cervix where he paused again allowing her to adjust to the invader. She continued to whimper as he began his slow, even thrusts, the oil working to make her cunt a tight but slippery passageway. "Powers that be," he grunted. "She's tight as a fist. I'm going to have to fuck this one a lot more to stretch her into a good fit." Ilona and Barbala remained silent as they watched their master methodically fuck the once-virgin girl into what they hoped was submission. As tight as she was Antal couldn't last long and soon he grunted and emptied his seed into the still sobbing girl. Pulling out they could see his semen gush out soiling the tattered remains of her dress. "Good," he grunted. "But she'll get better." "Barbala," he said to the woman standing near them as stoically as possible. "One last punishment for you: I can't trust this one with my cock in her mouth yet so you will clean me off." Barbala nodded and dropped to her knees and without hesitation began licking and sucking the pink tinged spend from his member. When she had finished he motioned for her to stand and went to retrieve his breeches. "I will be back before dinner," he stated as he fastened them. "You can untie this one and make it clear to her if I ever even hear of her without her collar on it will be up the ass without any oil." Without another word he turned and strode out of the house like nothing had happened. ------- The next three days were mirror images of the first. Twice Catalyn had to be chased down by Barbala and Ilona and dragged kicking and screaming before Antal. At the first sign of struggle he ordered her tied before he fucked her although he didn't tear another dress, merely lifting it to bunch around her waist. "I'm too sore!" she cried the second day. "You seem to forget," he said as he pushed inside of her. "I don't care. You're nothing more than a hole for me to dump my juice. I don't give a shit how sore you are." By the fourth day she came meekly when called and fatalistically draped herself over the chair when ordered to do so. He still used the oil but this time she sighed as if relieved when he was finally fully implanted. On the fifth day he allowed her on the bed, on hands and knees, while he took her from behind. "How is our little princess doing?" he asked his other two women one day as he was sitting at the table and they were preparing a meal. "I think she is becoming; how did you put it, Ilona? Domesticated," Barbala answered. "She is much better behaved and has given me no problems at least." "Me either," Ilona added. "And I don't think she's even thought about taking her collar off since that first day." "I should have had this done years ago," Barbala said as she came over and sat on Antal's lap. Putting her arms around his neck she gave him a very long and deep kiss. Breaking it she looked into his eyes and said, "I never did thank you for being as gentle as you have been with her. I know she has been a bitch and a pain but she is still my daughter and I want to thank you for not hurting her." "I'm not sure she would agree with you on that," he chuckled. "Someday she'll realize how much worse it could have been," Barbala persisted. "An uncaring or inexperienced husband could have done worse and that's not even to mention if we had ended up in a house somewhere with fifteen or twenty drunks rutting into her every night. Besides, I think she's beginning to like it." "You think so, eh?" he said shaking his head. "Oh, yes," Barbala nodded. "Give her another week or two of this and then stop for a day and we'll see who comes looking for her daily dose of sausage." All of them laughed at that. "Just think what will happen when she gets that tongue of his into her little box," Ilona added. "We may have to fight her for a spot in the bed." "I guess we'll just have to get a bigger bed then, won't we," Antal smiled and they all laughed again. ------- Another week passed with Antal implementing the same daily routine. He took Catalyn from behind still but now it was in his bed with her on her knees and head resting on a soft pillow. He made the extra effort to reach around and cup her firm young breasts and gently play with her smallish nipples eliciting some sighs and even a groan or two as he slowly thrust inside her. As he came close to his release he even moved one hand down to lightly rub the sensitive spot at the top of her slit hoping to bring her to climax at the same time he did. He wasn't sure if she ever actually achieved release when he did this but she did moan softly into the pillow and shiver slightly as he emptied himself into her still tight tunnel. Although he had no set schedule, he was still a business man and, as much as he enjoyed being home and fucking his three women, duty called and he had to make a four-day trip. Catalyn seemed to be fully accepting of her daily demonstration of servitude. She was even beginning to enjoy them just a little, but he had to wonder what this four-day reprieve would bring. Would she be just as accepting of his attentions when he returned or would he have to start the training all over again with the hard fucks over the back of the chair? Either way the answer would be forthcoming shortly. It was the tail end of dusk when he finally entered the front door of his home and announced his presence. All three women rushed to greet him in the main living area but where Ilona and Barbala hugged him as tightly and tried to steal as many kisses for themselves as they could, Catalyn hung back slightly, hands folded demurely in front of her, eyes submissively focused on the floor. "It's wonderful to have you home, Antal," Ilona gushed when she'd finally withdrawn her tongue from his mouth. He was about to answer when Barbala placed her hands on his cheeks, twisted his face toward hers and did her best to see if she could suck his insides out. "Very nice!" he said taking a deep breath when she finally released him. Reaching down, he cupped the ass of each woman in one hand and gave them a firm squeeze while drawing both of them in tightly against his sides. "This is how coming home should always be. Having beautiful women to come home to is a hell of a lot better than coming home to an empty house. I don't know how I lived without it." "Well, you don't have to now, do you?" Ilona teased. "No, I don't," he agreed. "So, how has everything been while I was away?" He looked over at Catalyn pointedly. "Everything and everybody has been just fine, Master," Barbala said following his gaze. "You can confirm it with Ilona, but your youngest slave has been behaving herself very well. I think she may have even been missing your personal attention. I know I have." Catalyn lowered her head even more and Antal could see a rosy blush on her cheeks. "That's good," he chuckled, "because I intend to give each of you my attention tonight." "Well then, by the Powers, let's get you fed," Barbala exclaimed eagerly. ------- "Which one of us do you want first?" Ilona asked as they entered the master bedroom. "Hmm, difficult choice. I can't lose whichever I pick," Antal answered rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. "But I think it will be ... Catalyn." He wanted to see just how his youngest slave would react. Catalyn was already naked and the other two were stripping off their housedresses even as he spoke. "May this slave make a request, Master?" Catalyn asked softly. "You may ask," he responded expecting her to ask to go later or maybe not at all. "Will you please take this slave this way?" she asked laying on the bed on her back, knees up and spread apart, her nearly hairless slit plainly visible. "Since you asked respectfully, yes," he said with a grin. The two older women had begun undressing him as soon as theirs had been dispensed with and soon he was naked as the rest. As he approached the bed Catalyn looked up at him trembling slightly with resignation and maybe just a little anticipation. He grasped her firmly behind the knees and pulled her around until her butt was almost hanging off the edge of the mattress, spread her legs even further apart and pushed them up until the tops of her thighs rested against her firm, young breasts. Kneeling beside the bed he smiled at the view presented as she closed her eyes and moaned softly, this time definitely with anticipation. He began by kissing and nibbling at her soft inner thighs only pausing to blow softly into her opening as he moved from one to the other. When she began wriggling under him, he started to gently lap at her soft, pink folds with his tongue, teasing them while studiously avoiding the small hard nubbin at the top of her slit. As she began to moan louder, he dipped his tongue inside to sample her nectar which had begun to flow in delightfully copious amounts. Each of his older women tasted different ― neither better nor worse, just different ― and Catalyn was no exception. The muskiness of her fluid was noticeably lighter than the other women's; to Antal she tasted young. As she began moaning louder he abruptly switched and started attacking her clit vigorously with tongue, lips and even gentle nips of his teeth. Within minutes she was shaking and clenching at the bed with her fingers. Suddenly she began thrashing energetically and finally tensed to the point of lifting her whole upper body off the bed while emitting a piercing scream. She kept screaming as Antal continued to attack her until exhausted, she abruptly fell back to the bed in a boneless heap. Chuckling, Antal used her buttocks and pushed her to the center of the bed. Standing up he then started to knee-walk between her legs as she stared up at him in listless wonder. Towering over her, he looked down and smiled as his jutting cock dripped pre-cum on her lower belly. "Now it's my turn for satisfaction, slave," he said as she sighed. "Yes, Master," she moaned and tried to lift her hips to give him an easier angle for penetration. Resting his hands just outside her shoulders he dipped his hips trying to point his cock towards its target. Before he could try, he felt a hand grasp him firmly and guide his bulbous head to rest between the slightly parted lips of Catalyn's cunt. Grunting his appreciation, he immediately pushed and began his slow penetration of the young woman. Catalyn moaned and closed her eyes while lifting her legs to rest on his hips, opening herself up even further. Although still tight, she was wet and slick making his entry as easy as slicing butter with a sharp knife. Quickly, he was fully implanted inside her, the head of his member resting against the hard, rubbery surface of her cervix. After pausing for a moment to enjoy the feeling, he began pulling out and thrusting back into her with slow, deliberate strokes. "Do you like this, my little slave?" he asked. She opened her eyes to look up at him. "It is wonderful, my master," she grunted as he drove home again. With each stroke he quickened the motion of his hips, plunging deeply each time but each one being just a little bit farther than the last. "Oh Powers," she hissed. "I love this! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Use your slave, please! Cum in me. Please cum in me!" Antal didn't respond except to drive into her harder and faster until he felt his balls tighten and with one final deep lunge began coating the mouth of her womb with his seed until it dribbled out of her cunt from around his cock and trickled down into the crack of her ass. Gently lowering himself down until he covered her body with his, he rested as she locked her legs around his hips attempting to trap him there. "That was wonderful, Master," she cooed. "Please stay here inside me forever." "I think you can call me Antal now, Catalyn," he chuckled. "And I can't stay here forever no matter how good it feels. I have two other women to attend to tonight." "Don't want to share," she pouted but then sighed and unlocked her legs. "But it wouldn't be fair if I didn't." "So, you three are sharing me?" he grinned as he rolled off to the side. "Silly me. I thought I was the master here. By the way, now would be a good time for Catalyn to learn about her cleanup duties after we're done." "Of course you are the master, Antal," Ilona answered. Barbala pulled Catalyn up and started demonstrating how to clean his cock and pubic area with her lips and tongue. "But we are your women and just as you take care of us, we will take care of you. Your wish will always be our command but unless you state a preference we will take care of the details and make sure you have enough food for two men and enough pussy for three." "Then I shall be a very happy man," he chuckled. "But right now it's your pussy I want," he said reaching up to tenderly grasp the gently swaying globes of her breasts. Catalyn had finished her cleanup task and moved over to the same side of the bed as her mother. Ilona moaned and lay down on top of him straddling his hips such that the glistening slit of her cunt rubbed up and down Antal's rapidly resurging member. "Mother, you never told me it could feel so good," Catalyn whispered as Ilona whimpered and forced a little bit more of his cock inside her with each buck of her hips. "I didn't know myself," Barbala admitted sadly. "Most husbands don't give their wives the pleasures Master Antal gives us, let alone masters using their slaves. We are very lucky, my daughter, and we must make sure Master Antal continues to be pleased with us so he will allow us to stay." "It will be my pleasure, mother," Catalyn sighed as she watched Ilona whimper and groan as she impaled herself on her son's thick cock. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 5 Antal studied the sheep in the pen as the laborers from Sile carried the last of the packaged cargo up the hill to their village storage house. "Powers be damned sheep," Antal's boatman, Gyorgy, grumbled. "Can't we find something that doesn't smell like shit to bring all the way up here?" Antal snorted. Gyorgy was always grumbling about something. "You'd bitch if they hung you with a new rope, Gyo," he laughed. "That's not the smell of shit, you scupper trout (a piece of shit); that's the smell of money. You know very well we got more for just the half-load of those four-legged shit factories then we did for the rest of this junk." "Then why didn't we just fill up with sheep and not bother with the rest?" he asked. "I already have to clean crap out of one half of the boat; doing it for the other half isn't much worse." "All of it was pre-ordered," Antal answered. "I'm not going to drop anybody's cargo that I've already promised to deliver even if it does mean making a silver or two less on the trip. Wouldn't be right. Before you ask: yes, I took some pre-orders for the next trip, but I'm thinking about bringing two boats next time." "Will that be safe?" Gyorgy asked with a frown. "I've heard the Herceg himself is coming down to see what the problem is with the shipping revenues. That could mean extra patrols." "Maybe," Antal admitted. "But I think it'll be safe enough with just two. No more, though. Besides if we bring too much in at one time, the profit will go down. "The Herceg is still just a child, really," he continued. "Hasn't even reached his majority yet. It is true he couldn't be any dumber than the present Customs Master. Stupid bastard is squeezing even harder now that fewer ships are moving through Eregli. I wouldn't be surprised if we saw it stop completely in the next couple of weeks. The old Herceg would have seen right away where the problem actually lies but this young one... ? Well, nothing for that now." "What would happen if he did and the Customs Master was replaced and the port tax came down to an actual one-in-ten?" Gyorgy asked. "We might have to find ourselves legitimate employment, my friend," Antal laughed slapping his long time friend on the back. "But I doubt we'll have to worry about that. Rumor has it someone close to the Herceg is really in charge of the whole scheme. I'm sure whoever it is has the Herceg-let under his thumb. Now, why don't we take a little of this ill-gotten gain and give just a little back to the locals? I understand there's a passable ale-house over that ridge bordering the swamp. Shall we have a bite and a drink or two?" ------- The ale-house looked more like a shack stuck on top of a rickety pier than a place of refreshment but then Sile was small and the locals weren't used to anything better. Most of the seating was outside on the deck but it was nice this late afternoon so it was pleasant even though there was a faint odor of swamp gas in the air. Antal leaned his boat pole up against an empty table before he and Gyorgy sat down. There was a crowd of what looked to be mostly men huddled around some sort of contraption next to the edge of the pier, although Antal couldn't tell what it was. A serving wench noticed their arrival and came over to their table. "What'll it be, sirs?" she asked. Just then the anguished wail of a woman came from the direction of the huddled group accompanied by laughter ― nasty laughter. "Ah, I'll have whatever the stew is today," Antal answered absently. "Excuse me. What the hell is going on over there? And who is making that dreadful racket?" "Slave," the server said curtly through pursed lips. It was obvious she didn't like what was happening but was in no position to stop whatever it was. "Are they fucking her to death over there?" Gyorgy asked looking a little disgusted. "Do they have to do that out here in public like a bunch of animals?" "They're not fucking her," the server said sharply and turned to go. "I'll get your stew." Suddenly the contraption went sproing! and a small bundle shot out from it and arched over the water to land with a splash. It was a catapult. "Was that what the fuck I thought it was?" Gyorgy gasped his mouth hanging open. The wail turned to a shriek and seconds later there was a loud splash followed by a tremendous roar from the crowd. Without a word Antal grabbed his pole and strode quickly toward the commotion. "What is going on here?" he said loudly when he'd reached the rear of the crowd. The men quieted down and turned to look at him. He started to push his way through but they parted before him like wax from a flame. When he came to the end of the pier he saw a young woman being attacked by a multitude of the sharp-toothed eels found in the swamps. She was struggling valiantly towards a small bundle that was also being torn at. Before he could do anything she gave one last shriek and disappeared beneath the oily water. At almost the same time the little bundle was also pulled down and didn't resurface. "What the fuck is going on here?" he asked again angrily. "Just a little sporting event," one of the bigger more nasty looking men said nonchalantly. "We buy these bitches right after they've whelped for cheap. Toss the little bastard out there and bet whether the little slit goes in after it. We also take marks on which one goes down first. Care to make a wager? I've got three more to use up today." "That's disgusting!" Antal spat. "By the Powers if you don't need them, just cut their throats and be done with it! This is beneath a real man!" he said scanning the crowd. Most appeared to be locals and for the most part they at least cast their eyes down and shuffled back away from the area. "There's no call for that," the leader shouted. "I bought these bitches and their pups and I can do whatever the hell I want to with them!" "I didn't say you couldn't," Antal replied his grip tightening on the boat pole. "What I said is that it's disgusting and pathetic. Play fit only for children who know no better, eunuchs or men with cocks so small they wouldn't know what to do with a real pussy even if that had the chance. Or maybe you do know what to do but can't because it's too short to get past the lips. You shouldn't take out your misfortune on these poor women or babies for Powers sake! Blame your needle-dicked father or your whore of a mother, but not them. They had no part in it." "I think you need to learn some manners," the man hissed as he pulled a long sailor's knife from the sheath at his belt. Most of the crowd had dispersed or at least drawn back except for Antal, Gyorgy, the man and four others. The other four looked and dressed enough like the first man Antal was fairly sure they were either related or worked closely together. "Better men than you have tried," Antal laughed nastily. "But here I am still with manners that undoubtedly disgrace my mother. But what can be done? I appear to be un-learnable." "I think with five against two you'll learn quickly, but it won't last long," the man barked. Antal looked back over his shoulder at Gyorgy. "Two? You getting involved also, Gyo?" "Wasn't planning on it," Gyorgy said leaning casually against a table cleaning a fingernail with a very long sharp knife. "There're only five of them. I don't want to get in your way so I figure I'd just stay here and make sure nobody sneaks around to stick you in the back." Antal nodded with a grunt. "Just one against five," he said turning back. "That should make the odds almost even." "Asshole," the man hissed. "Get 'em!" All five had knives out and rushed Antal at the same time. Calmly Antal waited until they were almost upon him when suddenly he whipped up the boat pole and slashed it across their faces. Two dropped their knives and held their hands up to cover their bruised faces while the other three stopped their charge and stumbled back a step. Antal took a quick step to his left and drove the butt of his pole directly into the forehead of the one on the end. The man's head snapped back and from the indentation visible there was no doubt he was dead even as he slumped over backwards. Moving quickly to his right Antal drove the other end into the face of the one on the far end there. This had been one of the men who had slapped his hands to his face so the copper tipped point didn't impact the forehead. Instead it crushed some finger bones and slid off target plunging into the eye and pushing through into the soft tissue of the brain. Antal cursed and yanked back on the pole but the corpse followed. Muttering another curse he yanked again while kicking the body in the chest. With a sickening plop! it came off and dropped to the deck. Of the remaining three, one still had his hands over his face sobbing. Antal stepped forward and, bringing the pole butt up quickly, slammed it into the testicles of the man still holding a knife. He uttered a piercing wail and dropped to the deck like a stone, rolling onto his side. Without stopping Antal whipped the pole down and slammed it onto the head of the one holding his face. There was a sickening sound like the splitting of a melon and the fourth body dropped to the deck. Now there was just the leader and Antal facing each other. "Mercy!" the man screamed throwing the knife away and dropping to his knees. "Mercy!" "Mercy?" Antal barked harshly. "Why certainly I'll show you mercy. The same mercy you showed these women." "Gyorgy," he called back over his shoulder. "I'll bet you a copper this piece of filth can't swim to the other side of the channel without being eaten first." "What? Giving me the sucker bet?" Gyorgy complained. He walked up next to Antal, looked down and the man whose testicles had been crushed, placed his foot on his neck and with a grunt stomped down crushing the windpipe and snapping the neck. "All those clothes he's wearing are going to drag him down long before the eels get to him. Tell you what," he said thoughtfully. "Strip him naked and I'll take that bet." "You heard him," Antal ordered. "Strip 'em off." "You can't send me out there naked!" the man screamed. "I'll die!" "You might," Antal nodded in agreement. "But there's a slight chance you can make it. Stay here and you have no chance at all because I'm about to kill you." ------- "Shit, he almost made it," Gyorgy spat, reaching into his purse for a copper. "Well, some of him almost made it," Antal chuckled, his palm out waiting for the small coin. "I think one of his legs and most of an arm were gone before they pulled him down." "Yeah, but you didn't say he had to be whole when he reached the other side," Gyorgy grumbled. "True," Antal admitted brightly. "Shall we get something to eat now? I'm hungry." They turned around and noticed the crowd of gamblers had vanished like smoke in the wind. They were, however, confronted by the aleman. "What am I supposed to do with these?" he said waving at the bodies. "Dump 'em in the swamp," Antal shrugged. "Your problem, not mine. However," he said pointing to the catapult, "that I want taken down to the end of the pier and burned. Because if you don't, when I get done with my meal I'm going to burn it myself and I wouldn't be surprised if the rest of the pier goes with it." "Fine," the aleman grumbled. "But what are you going to do with your slaves? I sure as hell don't want them around here!" "What slaves?" Antal said slowly. "I don't have any slaves here." "Oh yes you do!" the aleman announced triumphantly. "You bested Mikos in a fair fight — well it wasn't fair but who's going to complain with it being five against one and all that. What's his is now yours by law and I want them scrawny bitches out of here." "What law?" Antal protested. "Our law!" the aleman replied forcefully. "Shit! Show them to me," Antal groused. The aleman led them into a back room of the shack where three women clutching tiny babies to their chests were shackled against the wall. One with dirty blonde hair looked at him with pure hate; another, a tall brunette merely stared at them with no comprehension while a third, a tiny red-head stared at the floor rocking back and forth as if oblivious to her surroundings. "Bastard, whore-son, mother-fucker!" the blonde screamed at him. "You'll not take us so easy, you sheep-shit, no-cock eunuch! Let me out of these and I'll gouge your eyes out!" she strained at her chains. "I like that one," Gyorgy mused as the incredible outpouring of curses continued unabated. Even Antal was impressed; the woman never paused and never repeated herself and although he wasn't quite sure what some of the words meant, he felt fairly confident they weren't terms of endearment. "Good. You can have her," Antal grunted. "No fucking way," Gyorgy chuckled. "She's your problem." He paused for a moment and then said solemnly, "It's the law." "Fuck you," Antal muttered which caused Gyorgy to laugh. Shaking his head and sighing he walked over and squatted next to the blonde. "Please be quiet," he said calmly. Possibly from surprise, her mouth snapped shut and she glared at him. "Thank you. Now, are you still going to gouge my eyes out if I let you go or do I need to keep you chained up? I'd rather let you go but I also kind of like my eyes the way they are." She continued to glare at him until her curiosity finally got the better of her. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Your new master, it would appear," he answered disgustedly. "Where's the other shit-for-brains?" It was the first time he'd heard her repeat herself. Either she was running out of curses or she was distracted. "He found out attacking someone he didn't know wasn't as good an idea as he thought it was," Antal grunted. "And now for some reason the locals here seem to think you belong to me." "Really?" she asked, her eyes opening wide. He nodded and she fainted. Antal was just able to scoop up the baby before it rolled onto the floor. He looked down as the baby's head rolled listlessly back and forth before centering on his face. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he complained to Gyorgy. "Here, take it," he said shoving it into his friend's hands. "What the hell do I want with a baby?" Gyorgy whined but still took the bundle. "If I wanted babies I'd get a wife and not just fuck whores!" "Shut up and take it for a minute," Antal grunted. He crouched down again and sharply patted the blonde's cheek. She groaned, her eyes blinked and suddenly they opened wide. "Anna!" she looked around in panic. "Where's my Anna?" "Right over there," Antal pointed at Gyorgy. "She's fine. Now, are you going to try to maim me if I set you free?" "N-no," she answered softly. "Good. Then let's see what we can do here." The shackles themselves were massive and sturdy as were the chains but the pin holding them together was only held by a small cheap lock. Antal figured the keys were probably outside somewhere in one of the bastard's clothing but he didn't want to take the time search for them. Grasping the small lock he grunted, twisted and the small lock snapped off in his hand. The blonde's eyes widened even further and he grinned at her. Pushing the pin out, he opened the shackles and pulled her to her feet. She immediately rushed over to Gyorgy who gratefully shoved the baby into her arms. One by one he did the same with the other two women. The brunette came up with no resistance although she still hadn't said a word. The little redhead whimpered and cringed at his touch and tried to roll herself into a ball around her baby. "It's all right, little one," he said soothingly stroking her hair. He could tell she was young ― very young. "She's only thirteen," the blonde said as if reading his mind. "I don't think she's quite ... right. In the head, I mean." "Who would be?" He pushed the redhead's hair out of her eyes and gently lifted her chin with one finger until she could look him in the eyes. "You're safe for now," he said softly. Her eyes were green and he could tell she was terrified. "Are you hungry?" She nodded slightly. "They haven't fed us for days," the blonde spat. "Didn't want to waste food on us." Antal grunted. "Then I guess I'd better get you some food if I want you to walk to the boat," he sighed. "Gyorgy, would you go see if you can rustle something up from the aleman? The stew would probably be good. Oh, and some goat's milk if they have it. Goat's milk is supposed to be good for young people and nursing mothers, isn't it?" Gyorgy nodded and left. "I want you to stand now, little one," he cajoled as he gently grasped her shoulders and pulled up. She came up without a problem staring up at him while squeezing her baby tightly to her chest. There was a table and benches in the room and he led her over to them. "Here, sit down," he ordered. "The rest of you also," he said waving them over. When they were seated he put his hands on his hips, looked down at them, and sighed. The blonde was looking at him curiously, the brunette's eyes tracked him but her face remained impassive. The little redhead stared at him and trembled; he assumed it was from fear. "Okay," he sighed again. "I suppose I'm your new master. I'm Antal. You can call me Antal or master, whichever you prefer; I don't care. I suppose I should know your names." "I'm Katta, Antal," the blonde said as if testing the fact that he didn't care if they called him by his given name. "This is Anna," she said lifting her baby up just a little. "That's Vrsula and Dorottya," pointing to the brunette and her child, "and that's Piroska. I don't know what her baby's name is; she doesn't talk. Neither does Vrsula much, but she does sometimes." "And you never shut up, right?" Antal grinned. "Pretty much," Katta admitted with a nod. "Probably why my da sold me." Antal grunted in understanding. "Do you mind if I ask who you are and what you're going to do with us?" she continued. "No, since you asked nicely," he answered. "I'm Antal and I haven't got the first idea of what I'm going to do with you. This all just sort of just happened," he shrugged. "We'll get you home and then we'll figure it out." At that time Gyorgy returned followed by two servers carrying bowls, a steaming tureen of stew and a crock of goat's milk. Katta attacked her stew voraciously while Vrsula methodically spooned hers into her mouth apparently without much appetite. Piroska ignored hers and huddled over her baby. "Thank you," one of the servers whispered to him as she prepared to leave. "We've been wishing somebody would stop that rotten bastard ever since he got here. Our master," she sneered and looked towards the outer room with disgust, "was all too happy for the money. You did everyone around here a great service. Maybe that shithead will think twice before letting that kind of scum back around here." "Yeah, well," Antal hemmed and hawed for a moment almost blushing. "I didn't do it for anybody; they just pissed me off." "Be that as it may, we still thank you," she smiled knowingly and patted his cheek before leaving. "Ah, yeah," he cleared his throat and turned back to his new slaves. Katta was just starting on her third bowl. "You're going to make yourself sick," he chided. "I don't want to waste money on food you're just going to throw-up. Katta frowned at him and looked like she wanted to say something but held her tongue. He grunted and gave her a slight nod when she sat her spoon down. Looking at Piroska he sighed and shook his head. "You need to eat something," he said softly as he crouched next to her. She buried her head down even farther. "Your baby is depending on you," he continued. "She won't be able to eat if you don't." he stroked her filthy hair lightly. "You don't want her to go hungry, do you?" Piroska lifted her head and peered at him, then shook her head with little, quick jerks. "Here, hand her to me. I'll sit right here beside you and you can eat." She again shook her head and held the baby even tighter but finally relented when he did nothing more than hold his hands out and raise his eyebrows. Timidly she passed the baby to Antal and ate tiny little bites of the stew while keeping her eyes locked on him as if she expected him to run off with her child. Antal knew almost nothing about babies but to his untrained eyes she appeared to be weak and listless. Her eyes would focus on him for a brief time and then wander off again. Her dirty little hands would begin to reach for him but would fall back before they had gone far. "Is she sick?" he asked out loud. "She's hungry," Katta replied. "We haven't been fed for a while. Piroska probably hasn't been able to make much milk for her. All of us were starting to dry up." She pursed her lips and continued, "Piroska is very young. I don't think she was ready to have a baby yet; her breasts aren't ready to give the babe all that she needs." "Hmm," he grunted. Reaching over he dipped his finger in the crock of goat's milk and brought the dripping digit to the baby's mouth where he spread some over the lips. The child smacked her lips and opened her mouth as if reaching for a nipple. Piroska stopped eating, opened her tunic and reached out to retrieve her baby. "Wait for a little while," Antal ordered. He noticed Piroska's breasts were tiny like the rest of her, barely the size of and orange cut in half. It's no wonder the child was hungry, he thought. He couldn't imagine two tiny nubbins like those being able to feed a healthy child. "Eat until you're full; I want to try something." She dropped her arms but didn't return to eating right away. Antal tore a strip of cloth from his sleeve ― would have rather used the mother's tunic but it was filthy ― and dipped it into the milk. He brought it to the baby's mouth and the child began immediately to suck weakly. "This might work," he said. He repeated his milk dipping until sometime later the baby fell asleep in his arms. "We need to get going," he said later when he noticed the shadows getting longer. "I want to get underway by nightfall." ------- They cleared the rise and looked down at the river. Antal could see nobody had bothered his boat but then he would have been surprised if anybody around here had. The locals at least knew him well enough. He was carrying the baby and holding Piroska's hand. They had started out with each of the girls carrying her own child but the tiny girl had faltered half way back and Antal had no choice but to carry one or both of them. Piroska saw the river, shrieked and dropped to her knees trembling. ""It's all right, Piroska," Katta bent down to reassure the terrified child. "He's not going to throw us in. If he was going to do that, he would have done it back in the swamp. There are no eels in the river. Isn't that right, Master?" "Right," he said gruffly. "If that's what I wanted to do I wouldn't have hauled your silly asses this far." Piroska looked up at him still frightened, but she did grasp his hand and stand up again. "It's the boat I want you in, not the water," he said pointing with his chin. "Although a good bath wouldn't do any of you any harm," he added. Katta gave him a dirty look but didn't say anything. Gyorgy chuckled as he boarded the small vessel and stowed the basket of fresh bread and another sealed crock of goat's milk given to them by one of the servers just before they left. "I don't think the aleman knew he was giving us this gift," Gyorgy confided to Antal on their way back. "A present from your ladyfriends." The aleman had been sulking inside his shack and hadn't been seen. Antal settled the three girls near the bow before having Gyorgy cast off and from his platform at the stern he poled them out into the main channel for the trip downriver. Once out on the wide expanse of the river proper they could feel the slight breeze from astern and the two sailors raised the small sail. It wasn't large enough to move them very quickly but it did propel them faster than the current and gave them steerage. At first look it appeared to be filthy but the dark gray was a combination of dye and stains Antal had applied himself. The last thing a smuggler wanted was a white sail up at night but a black one would be like painting a sign on the side saying, "This is a smuggler's boat!" This one just looked old: well worn and dirty like the rest of the boat. Once they had set sail and secured the sheets Gyorgy curled up in the bottom near the mast and feel asleep. Antal leaned back against the stern with his hand resting on the tiller arm watching orange flashes from the setting sun dance on the wavelets. After a while Katta moved aft and settled down in front of him. She opened her tunic and pressed her daughter's mouth against one of her engorged nipples. Her breasts weren't huge but were nicely formed handfuls; they reminded Antal of Catalyn's. "I want to thank you, Master," Katta said finally breaking the silence. "Master now?" he chuckled. "It seems fitting now," she blushed stroking her daughter's hair as the baby noisily sucked. "You are a kind master." "I don't know if I'm especially kind," he corrected. "But I don't find cruelty for its own sake pleasurable. You do what I tell you and we'll get along just fine." She nodded. "But you were kind to Piroska," she continued after a few moments of silence. "Would you like me to suck your cock? My former master told me I am a very good cocksucker. You can fuck me if you want, of course, but I'm not really healed from giving birth yet." "I appreciate your offer," he chuckled again. "But I'm doing just fine right now. I get quite enough at home to keep me well slaked. I have no burning need for it just yet." "Your wife?" she asked. "If it pleases you, I'd like to know about our new mistress. My last mistress was a bitch. She didn't mind the master fucking the slaves but when he got me pregnant she didn't want one of his bastards around so she forced him to sell me. She was jealous because she had no children. Of course she was uglier than a mud-toad and refused him her bed but that didn't seem to matter." "No wife," he answered. "But I do have three slaves who seem to believe it their duty to keep me well drained. Not that I'm complaining. I'm sorry you had to leave a place you enjoyed." "Oh, I didn't enjoy it," she said nonchalantly. "He'd beat us and take us roughly. He'd even fuck my ass which hurt. I didn't enjoy it but I suppose it was better than being fed to the eels. Have you given any thought as to what you will do with us, Master?" "Like I said before, I have no idea," he shrugged. "The house is already so clean I'm afraid sometime they won't let me in it and the cooking, shopping and all that is done. I'll probably have to sell you, but don't worry; I won't sell you to the likes of that again. "I must say, your language has improved a little since the first time we met," he grinned. "I have a temper," she blushed. "I didn't expect us to be alive very long back there and I let it get the better of me," she admitted as she stroked her now-sleeping baby's cheek. "I'd like to stay with your household if I can," she said. "I can tell you are a good man: firm but fair. It is far better than I could expect anywhere else." "Honestly, it doesn't matter all that much to me one way or the other," he shrugged. "I got you for free and all you would cost me is a little food and upkeep. Whether or not to keep you I'll probably leave up to Ilona; she runs my household. Convince her and cause me no trouble and something can probably be worked out." "And Ilona is... ?" "My senior slave and my mother," he nodded. "And you — ah — sleep with all your slaves?" Katta asked delicately. "If you're asking if I fuck her, the answer is yes; every chance I get." "How delightfully wicked," Katta giggled. "It's like you're a noble. How did she become your slave if I may be so bold, my new master?" Antal told her the story. "So you have your revenge on her at last," Katta nodded. "At first but now it's more than that. I don't think she would leave even if she had the chance," he said. "So our new master can have feelings for his slaves," she teased. "Yes, especially irritation," he grumbled. "Oh, we don't want that," she giggled. "I'll leave you be." She picked up her sleeping baby and before he could do anything bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. She giggled again and scampered back towards the bow. Around midnight with the half moon overhead, Antal nudged Gyorgy awake and settled down himself. When the morning sun woke him up he found Piroska spooned up against his chest, her baby cradled in her arms. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 6 It was a cool morning so Antal made Piroska wear his heavy tunic draped around her shoulders. It fit her like a robe as she wrapped it around herself and her baby. Breakfast was bread, cheese and the leftover goat's milk. Once they were done Antal took the tiller from Gyorgy allowing him to get something to eat and take care of his necessities. They were still about six hours from making Eregli when a long, slim red-painted boat shot out of a hidden bay heading directly for them. "Shit!" Gyorgy exclaimed. "Customs!" "What are you worried about, Gyorgy?" Antal asked mildly. "We're heading downriver, empty. Even if we were loaded, we'd just tell them were heading for the docks. How could they prove differently? Besides, they never bother anybody going downriver." That didn't appear to be the case this time as the Customs boat pulled alongside on the strength of its twelve oars and ordered him heave to. Antal could have outrun them with enough head start even with the tiny sail they had but never in a close-in sprint. Besides he had no intention of doing so; he had nothing to hide. "Stand by for boarding!" came the call after he'd dropped the sail and they'd glided to a stop. The customs boat shipped oars as it came alongside and after lashing them together a junior customs official and two soldiers jumped over. "Where are you going?" the official demanded. "Back to Eregli," Antal replied pointing downriver. "Where have you been and what was you're business" the official barked. "Pickin' up a load of slaves me grandpappy left me when he died up 'round Sile ways," he answered with a thick accent. "What did you take up 'round Sile ways," the official sneered. "Nothin'," Antal frowned. "Don't need no fish up there, I reckon." "What else are you carrying?" "Nothin' 'cep nets," he said pointing to the net pile near the center of the boat. "We'll see about that," the official sniffed. "Sergeant! Have a look under those nets!" The two soldiers grunted and groaned as they moved the heavy nets. Antal almost smiled. He made sure to wet those nets every other day or so to keep them smelling like the sea and to keep dry rot out. Nothing says "smuggler" like a boat filled with dry rotted nets. "There's nothing here, sir," one of the soldiers shouted after they'd turned the mess over. "Hey! Be watchin' you don't tangle them, hear?" Antal shouted. "Take me a day 're more to get 'em usable. What's you doing botherin' lawful folk heading downriver, anyway?" "Shut up, simpleton," the official snarled. "The Herceg himself ordered all vessels on the river to be boarded and inspected. We're going to stop the damn smugglers once and for all!" He paused and smiled oily, "In fact we're going to institute a new river transport tax and we might as well start today. Unless you have a gold crown I'm going to take one of these pathetic slaves as payment. The tall one, with the tits. Throw the bastard over the side and get her aboard." "You ain't takin' none of me property," Antal growled. His boat pole was trailing in the water but it could be instantly in use. It wouldn't be easy; there had to be at least twelve not counting the slimy official, but he was the first one going over the side. "I'm going to the Herceg 'imself!" he shouted. "We'll see what he sez 'bout you taking what's mine." The official briefly reconsidered. There was no river tax although there could be one in the near future but it certainly wouldn't be anywhere near the value of a slave. If in fact this river rat actually made it to the Herceg ... Now if it was the Customs Master it would be no problem; he'd just have to split the take with him. But the Herceg... ? Not worth the chance. "Fine, scum!" he growled and climbed back aboard his own boat. "But soon enough you'll be paying for the privilege of using Eregli's waters! Sergeant! Cast off and get us out of here!" Antal watched as they rowed back toward the bay they'd come from. Vrsula walked up to him clutching Dorottya tightly to her chest. She was taller than he was so she actually looked down at him. "Thank you," she said softly. It was the first time he'd heard her say anything. She had a nice voice, low but very melodic with more than just a hint of an accent he couldn't identify. "Wasn't any big deal," he muttered. "You're mine now and I don't give anything away to a thief like that." "You were ready to fight," she continued as if he hadn't said anything. "I could see that. The thanks of a slave may be worthless, but I wanted you to know anyway. "Yeah, well I'm still probably going to sell your big-titted ass when we get home," he grumbled. He was surprised for the second time when she actually smiled and leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. It seemed like it was his trip for getting kisses. "You saved our lives twice. I won't forget that," she said before she turned around and walked slowly forward. "Looks like the rumors were right," Gyorgy said as he came back to stand by Antal. "They're tightening up on river travel. What do you think that'll do? It's going to be a lot more dangerous out here." "It'll just about strangle Eregli," Antal answered. "And our prices just went up." ------- Ilona, Barbala and Catalyn rushed to the front door when they heard Antal entering but stopped dead in their tracks with a gasp when they saw who was behind him. "Antal, what is going on here?" Ilona demanded with her hands on her hips. "And who are these ... persons ... with babies, no less?" Her eyes narrowed and zeroed in her son. "Is there something you want to tell us?" "Powers, yes!" he sighed loudly in exasperation. "This has been one hell of a trip. Of course I'll tell you all about it but the first thing that needs to be done is to get them all a bath and then something to eat." He sniffed his own clothing and added, "I suppose I need one also. "Anyway," he continued, "ladies, this is Katta; she has a mouth on her." He tapped Katta on the head and she gave Ilona a rueful grin. "Vrsula: she doesn't say much," he placed his hand on the woman's shoulder. "And this is Piroska; she doesn't say anything," he said placing both hands lightly on the child's shoulders. Piroska shivered and moved back into him while looking at Ilona with wide, fear-filled eyes. "She's had a very hard time of it," he said softly. "Please be gentle with her. "The babies we'll sort out later," he said with a wave of his hand "After we get cleaned up, I — we'll — tell you the whole story," he grimaced. "Suffice it to say for now that it is a lesson in how no good deed ever goes unpunished." Katta twisted just a little and softly jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. Ilona raised her eyebrows in amusement while Catalyn looked on green-eyed with jealousy. "Then I suppose we should get all of you cleaned up because I'm dying of curiosity," Ilona remarked. "You get the supper, Ilona. You'd be quicker getting as much ready as it appears we'll need. I'll get these three ... no, six, a bath and Catalyn can take care of Master Antal," Barbala said moving behind the three ragged slaves and herding them toward the back bathing room. As they left, Piroska was darting quick glances back over her shoulder as if to ensure Antal hadn't left; Catalyn ran over to him and hugged him fiercely. "Are you replacing us?" she sobbed into his neck. "No," he chuckled stroking her hair. "I had no intention of even ... acquiring these three, er, six, and I have no intention of losing any one of you." "Good! Because you're not allowed," she looked up at him crossly. "Not allowed?" he asked ominously although he did smile just a little, to himself at least. "Is my little slave forgetting herself? Do we need to retrain her?" "You mean, the chair?" she gasped and he nodded. Suddenly she grabbed his hand and pulled him boldly over to the aforementioned piece of furniture. Letting go she hiked up her house dress and lay down over the back. "Yes master, I need to be retrained," she said her voice muffled by the back cushion. "I'm not sure how much punishment it is if you go to it so willingly," he chuckled and slapped her lightly on one exposed cheek. She shivered and moaned. "It's terrible, Master," she groaned as he ran his hands over her smooth young buttocks. "But I deserve it. I should be punished for forgetting my place." "Yes, you should," he said sternly. "And I know just how to do it." Kneeling he parted her buttocks exposing her pink pussy lips glistening with her excitement. Leaning forward he began to lightly lick them from the nubbin at the top of her slit up to the puckered little rosebud of her ass. She quivered and moaned until he was sure she was about to climax, then he stopped. Standing up he smacked her butt again and chuckling told her to stand up. "Don't stop, please..." she whimpered. He slapped her ass again. "Up you go, wench," he said. "That's all you're getting until it's your turn tonight." "You are so mean," she pouted when she was again upright. "Then let that be a lesson to you," he admonished with a chuckle. "Now, off with you and draw my bath. I need to get the stink of the trip off me." "As you command, Master Antal," she said skipping towards the back of the house. He wandered into the kitchen where Ilona was cutting vegetables and throwing them in a large soup pot on the stove. He paused for a moment in the doorway admiring her softly rounded ass and shapely back. Moving quietly, he snuck up behind her, gently curved his hands around her body and gently grasped her full breasts as he nuzzled her neck. "Mmm, you'd better be quick about it," she said. "My master will be home soon." He chuckled. She sniffed and looked back at him. "You smell like pussy." "I had to discipline Catalyn," he chuckled again. "What do I have to do to get punished like that?" she teased pushing her bottom back into his hardening cock. "Be wary or I will," he warned as he lightly pinched her nipples through her house dress. "Doesn't sound like much of a punishment," Ilona hissed at his manipulations and leaned back against him. "Oh, I gave her a good licking all right," he whispered. "But I stopped before she could climax. She was being bad so I had her over the chair." "You are such a brute," she sighed. "I'm surprised you didn't fuck her while you had her there." "Yours is the first pussy I want to be in when I get home," he said as he released her breasts and moved his hands down her front until he was lightly pressing on the juncture between her legs. "Then do it," she said looking back at him with a coy expression. Bending forward she pushed the cutting board out of the way and laid her chest on the counter. Reaching back, she hiked up her dress until it was over her hips exposing her magnificent ass. "Take what is yours." "I don't think I would be able to last long," he warned. "This is for you, not for me," she said. "I just want to know I'm the first one you want to have." "You always are," he whispered as he loosened his breeches and let them drop to the floor. Moving in between her splayed legs, he rubbed the tip of his iron-hard cock against her wet outer lips and began to press in slowly. "Oh Powers," she groaned. "That feels good." With slow, short strokes he was soon buried to the hilt in her moist heat. "Oh Antal, I love when you take me," she sighed and reached back to run her hands up and down his sides as he began to thrust more vigorously into her. "It won't be long," he grunted. "You are so damn tight!" "Cum inside me, Antal!" she urged. "Give me your gift!" True to his word Antal stroked into her a couple dozen times and then released his seed with a ferocious grunt. "Damn! That feels good!" he wheezed as he waited for his cock to soften before removing it from his mother's body. "Yes it did," she cooed. "I'm sorry I didn't last long enough for you to be pleasured," he apologized. "It was too damned long and you felt too good." "It was wonderful," she said as she turned around after he had plopped free of her hole. Kneeling down she grasped his breeches and pulled them up for him. "I take it you didn't use your new slaves for relief on your trip?" "No," he admitted. "Only got them yesterday under circumstances that made doing something like that seem a little inappropriate. I promise to tell all of you after supper, but only after supper. I will warn you I'm doing it after supper because you might not feel like eating once you've heard it." "As bad as all that?" she asked as she tied him up his breeches. He nodded. "Well, I'll take you word for it. Now run along and get your own bath; you are a bit ripe." ------- "And that's how it happened," Antal shrugged. He couldn't use his hands because after he had shepherded them all into the outer room after supper Piroska had climbed into his lap holding her baby like she belonged there. He was patting and stroking her hair as she trembled against him her face buried in his chest, baby clutched tightly to her bosom using Antal to shield them both. "By the Powers!" Ilona exclaimed. "That's inhuman!" Her face was contorted in shock; Barbala's with disgust and Catalyn ran from the room where they soon heard her being sick in the privy area. Katta stood to one side her face wrinkled up like she was trying not to cry and Vrsula did little more than stare intently at Antal emotionlessly. "You poor thing," Ilona cooed as she dropped to her knees next to Antal and put her own hand on Piroska. "You're just a baby yourself; you all are." "I'm seventeen," Katta announced having regained her composure. "Twenty," Vrsula added. "We think the little one is thirteen," Katta continued. "But we can't be sure; she's never said anything. I overheard the slavemaster telling the asshole that when we were sold." "Well, you're all like babies to me," Ilona replied then turned back and asked softly, "What were you planning to do with them, Antal?" "I haven't any idea," he admitted. "Slaves aren't worth a copper these days and to tell the truth after what they've been through ... Well..." "Of course we'll keep them," she smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You are just a big old softy, aren't you?" "I guess I'll just have to start spanking more before my reputation is completely destroyed," he answered gruffly. "I'll see what I can do about that," she said patting his arm. "Now little one," she said to Piroska, "let me have a look at that baby of yours." She gently tried to pry the tiny bundle out of the little girl's hands but Piroska resisted until Antal grunted and nodded to her. She watched Ilona closely as the older woman cooed and inspected the fragile little thing. Ilona looked up at Antal with a worried expression. "She's very weak," Ilona said. "Has she been taking her milk?" "They didn't feed us very much," Katta interjected. "The little one's been trying but I don't think she was ready for birthing yet and I don't know how much the babe's getting." "Well, let's see," Antal said standing up and setting the young girl down on the chair before kneeling down in front of her. "I'd like to see your breasts, Piroska. May I?" he asked. She cocked her head in puzzlement as she opened the tunic she had been given in place of her old rags. It had been one of Antal's but it fit her like a housedress would the others. "I don't think she's ever been asked before," Katta said. "You're the Master; you tell and we do as you please." "And so you shall," he added. "When I command I expect obedience but that doesn't mean my orders can't be civilized." "And I will make sure his commands are obeyed," Ilona stated flatly to the young blonde. "I don't believe that will be a problem, Mistress," Katta nodded. "Your Master — our Master — saved our lives and has been kind and generous to us. I for one intend to obey him." Antal snorted and Katta added ruefully, "As much as I can, anyway." Piroska's breasts were as tiny as the rest of her; about the size of oranges cut in half with pink nipples showing the effects of the baby's feeding. He examined them gently tweaking the tiny buds in his attempt to express some of her milk. "They're very pretty," he said looking up at the young girl. Piroska gave him a nervous smile. "She was far too young to be bred," Ilona snorted in disgust. "Just because a girl begins her flows doesn't mean she ready to have a baby. Suck on them, Antal. That's probably the only way you're going to get anything out." Obediently he lowered his lips and drew the pink nubbin into his mouth; he began to suck. At first he didn't think he would get anything but finally a thin watery fluid shot into his mouth and he held in on his tongue before swallowing. "There is some there," he stated as he drew his head back. "It seems a bit thin to me but to be honest I don't know what it's supposed to feel or taste like." "Well, you have two other slaves who should be giving good milk," Ilona said. "Try hers and see it you can tell the difference," she pointed at Vrsula. "If size is any indication, she should have enough for three or four babies." "Vrsula," he called and she came over to stand by him. "Do you mind if I try your milk? Dorottya appears to be as healthy as they come, so you must be feeding her pretty well." "I am your slave, Master," she said emotionlessly. "You can do with me what you will." "Yes I am," he agreed. "But I'd rather do it with your cooperation. If not, then maybe Katta wouldn't mind if I had a taste of hers." "I don't mind," Katta said and began to peel down the top of her housedress. "You are a very strange master," Vrsula said with a hint of both puzzlement and an even smaller hint of a smile. "I have never been asked before by my master to do anything either, but for this I will cooperate." She also began to strip her dress down to her waist. "Maybe you should try both of us if you are looking for a comparison?" "Yes, that is probably a good idea," he nodded with a grin. "And certainly not unpleasant for me." Ilona snorted and slapped him lightly on the back of the head which he ignored. The three new slaves didn't, though, and each gasped with horror waiting for him to beat her. "Settle down," he chuckled. "I'm not one to punish my slaves for such minor indulgences. She was just chastising me for being a man — which I am. I fully expect to enjoy this little experiment; you are both lovely." He meant what he said: Vrsula's tits were large and rounded with just a hint of sag topped with very large, dark nipples that poked out at him almost the length of the first digit of his middle finger. Katta's were smaller but proportional to her smaller frame with light crinkly buds. Both had the creamy smoothness of youth. "Now, Vrsula, for educational purposes only, of course," he chuckled again as she bent down slightly cupping one breast and offering him the exposed nipple. He latched on and began to eagerly suck and was immediately rewarded with a blast of liquid much thicker and tastier than little Piroska's. After a few minutes he released her nipple and drew his head back smacking his lips. "Very tasty," he said looking up at her. "And quite a bit different. But I think I should sample another before rendering my decision." Katta rolled her eyes as she stepped forward. She didn't have to bend down like Vrsula did but still she cupped her breast presenting it for his attention. Again he drew the nipple into his mouth and began to suck. Katta's milk tasted slightly different but still had the same rich, creamy texture he hadn't found with Piroska's. He noticed as he sucked, Katta's breathing deepened and she made little mewling noises she tried hard to suppress. After a few minutes he reluctantly drew back. "Thank you," he said to both Katta and Vrsula. "You are both delicious." Standing he picked up little Piroska and sat down in the chair with her in his lap. "I am sure you are a good little mother," he started. "But I can tell your milk isn't rich enough for your baby. I'm afraid it's probably been slowly starving to death." Piroska's eyes began to water and she sobbed softly. "Now, now," he soothed stroking her hair. "It's not your fault. You were too young to have a baby and your body's not ready yet to take care of her." Almost defiantly Piroska looked up at him still sobbing and rubbed her belly. "Yes," Ilona said softly as she knelt next to the couple in the chair. "You were old enough for some bastard to put the baby in your belly but that doesn't mean you're old enough to take care of her properly. She needs more than you are able to give here right now. "Luckily we have two other women that between them should be about to give her the little extra you can't," Antal added and then looked up at Katta and Vrsula. "You two will help her by letting her baby suckle from you after she is done." He didn't say it sternly but there was no doubt it had not been a question. "Of course we will," Katta replied and Vrsula nodded in agreement. "Good," he returned the nod. "Then we have only one more important task to take care of." What is that, Antal?" Barbala asked from her position behind his chair. "Why to name this baby, of course," he snorted. "We can't be calling her 'baby' forever, you know. Piroska, have you thought of a name for her yet?" The little redhead hesitated for a moment and then shook her head slightly. "Well then, I suppose it's up to us then, isn't it? Does anyone have any suggestions? I don't know much about naming babies." "Master," Vrsula spoke softly. "May I suggest Zsotia? It means Lucky One in my native tongue." "Zsotia? Zsotia," he mumbled. "It sounds like a very pretty name for a pretty little girl. Piroska, do you approve?" The little redhead sniffed, smiled and then nodded while reaching out to Ilona for her baby. "Then Zsotia it is," he said firmly. "Master?" Katta asked tentatively. "May I go feed Anna? It's about her feeding time and your, ah, experiment brought down my milk and if I don't feed her soon it's going to hurt." "Certainly," he waved. "Vrsula, if you need to do the same with Dorottya then do so. But I would like you two to bring them out here while you do it. I want you to start feeding little Zsotia as soon as possible. I assume she'll be like a man who has gone without food for awhile and only take a little bit at a time to begin with." ------- "It's been a very interesting evening," Ilona remarked as the four of them huddled together in bed later that night and Antal reflected on how differently people react to things. Barbala had wanted to be taken hard that night, as hard as he'd ever taken her before. She was still screaming for him to pound her harder and deeper even as she shook and quivered beneath him, her cunt squeezing his cock as her orgasm took her. Catalyn was completely different and just wanted to lie next to him sobbing into his shoulder until sleep finally overtook her. They were lying spooned together on their sides: Catalyn's back snuggled in against Ilona, Ilona pushed back against Antal and Barbala behind him with arms wrapped around both of them. Ilona wiggled her ass and Anta's cock began to grow firm again. "Hmm, somebody hasn't had enough," she smirked as she drew up her knees slightly and opened her legs just a bit moving a murmuring Catalyn around in the process. "I guess Bala wasn't enough for you tonight." Antal only grunted softly as he pushed against her exposed slit until he could nudge the head in between her wet lips. "Ahhh," she moaned as her pressed firmly into her until finally being stopped by the hardness of her cervix. "That feels soooo good," she moaned. "Slut," Barbala murmured next to Antal's ear. "You should know," Ilona gasped as Antal began to slowly thrust into his mother's womb. "Oh, oh, oh," she panted each time he drove deep inside her. It was a long, slow fuck and Ilona was quivering and biting down on her hand when he delivered his final thrust and released his seed deep within her. Her pussy clamped down on him at the same time as she experienced a small release of her own. "That was so nice," she cooed as he chuckled behind her. He didn't even try to remove his softening cock. "Antal," she said after a few moments. "Barbala and I have something we need to tell you." "Mmm?" he mumbled as Barbala stroked her hand down his side. "You're going to have more than three babies in the house soon," she whispered. "What?" he exclaimed, instantly awake. "That's right. Bala and I have missed our flows twice now," she continued. "It looks like you've bred at least two of your slave women." "Are you all right?" he asked sounding worried. "Are both of you all right?" "Men are so silly," Barbala giggled as she pulled him over onto his back and snuggled under his arm. "Of course we're all right. It's what the Powers made us for. You can't expect to enjoy your little harem as much as you have been and not reap the consequences." "I just never thought about it," he admitted as Ilona snuggled under his other arm and Catalyn whimpered and curled up against her back. "I hope you're not angry," Ilona asked nervously. "If you insist, we can go to the medicine woman and have it taken care of." "Don't dare even think about it," he said gruffly giving them both a shake. "It pleases me. Surprises me, but pleases me." "Thank you, Master," Barbala sniffed and rubbed her face on his chest. "So I'm going to be a father," Antal chuckled. "And a brother," Barbala added. "And Ilona will be a mother again and a grandmother and..." "And nothing," Ilona said firmly but with a smile. "I will be my master's slave having his child." "My woman is having my child," he chided and then corrected himself. "My women are having my children." "Does Catalyn know?" he asked in a whisper. "Yes she does and she's not happy," came a voice from behind Ilona. Catalyn crawled over Ilona and lay on top of him. "I should be pregnant," she pouted. "I'm the youngest and should be the most fertile." "Well, we'll just have to keep trying until you catch," he chuckled. "Damn right we will," she huffed and then added, "Master." Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 7 Antal woke early the next morning with a weight on his chest and hair tickling his nose. He smiled thinking it was Catalyn who had crawled back on him sometime while he was asleep. After the joyful news was let out of the bag so to speak she seemed to recover from her despondency over the treatment Katta et al. were scheduled to receive and rode him to another very satisfying orgasm. Afterwards she had crawled off and snuggled in beside him. Without opening his eyes he chuckled and brought his hand up to stroke her hair. What his hand found though was a form far too small to be Catalyn's since even at the young age of sixteen she was close to her full woman's body. His eyes popped open in surprise and he froze with a grunt. It was Piroska curled up on his stomach and chest like a cat holding little Zsotia next to her! She mewled and frowned in her sleep at his movement but didn't wake up. "Ilona," he called out softly. "Ilona?" "Hmm," Ilona yawned and stretched from the other side of a softly snoring Catalyn and looked over at him with sleepy eyes. "Yes?" Her eyes popped open when she saw his burden, smiled and chuckled very softly. "You have a visitor," she whispered. "You noticed?" he whispered back sarcastically. "What am I supposed to do?" "I would think a big strong man like you would be able to move a tiny little girl — two tiny little girls — without much trouble," she grinned propping her head up to look at him. Seeing his frustration as he moved his hands around trying to find a good way to get hold of them, she took pity and reached out meaning to stroke the child's face to wake her up. At exactly that time baby Zsotia began fussing and Piroska's eyes popped open wide and she looked around, obviously afraid. "It's all right, honey," she cooed as she stroked the child's cheek. Piroska shied back from the touch at first looking at the older woman fearfully and then glancing around until she saw Antal looking down at her. "It's okay," he agreed and smiled at her. "You're not in trouble." "I think little Zsotia is waking up and will want to be fed soon," Ilona grimaced. "Welcome to the wonderful world of babies." Piroska nodded and tried to move around without falling off on either Catalyn or Barbala. "Here," Antal reached up to steady the tiny bundle. "You crawl off the end of the bed there and I'll hand Zsotia to you." The little red-head nodded solemnly and started to ease her way backwards off the bed on her hands and knees. Once she was standing at the foot of the bed Antal handed her the tiny bundle that was crying weakly by that time. Ilona sighed and rolled out of the bed leaving Antal sandwiched in between Barbala and Catalyn. "Come along, little one," Ilona sighed pushing a slightly resistant Piroska before her. Looking back over her shoulder she asked, "I assume you'll be staying home today?" "Yeah, I'll be getting up in a minute or two," he answered glancing at the glow from the pale pink morning light striking the curtains over the windows. "Take your time," Ilona insisted as she stopped at the doorway her hands on Piroska's shoulders. "You need the sleep and Bala has been feeling woozy in the morning lately. Cat could probably use a little extra sleep, too." "Barbala's been feeling bad?" he asked with dismay. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Because it's perfect normal for some women to feel poorly in the morning during the first part of their pregnancy," she replied. "Luckily I never did with you and I don't seem to be cursed with it now. She'll be fine but it would be a kindness if you would let her sleep a little later." "Of course," he said shaking his head. Once Ilona had pushed her charge through the doorway Antal rolled over and spooned up against Barbala's back and reached around to gently rub her stomach. "That feels nice," she said drowsily. "It doesn't help, but it does feel nice." "I'm sorry you feel bad," he whispered in her ear. "You're the only man I know that would give a crap," she chuckled and twisted around to give him a kiss. "Not a very imposing master, if your loving slave might remark. Most masters — or husbands for that matter — would just beat me until I got out of bed and got on with the chores." "Well that has been noted before," he grinned. "Besides I think we have more than enough hands to do any amount of chores we have around here. In fact the real problem may be finding enough for everybody to do to keep busy. That, and beating you sounds like a lot of work." "You are very special, my master," she whispered. "I hope I reward you with a fine strong son." "I hope so too," he chuckled. "This place is fair to bursting with women and baby girls as it is. I wouldn't worry about it though; the last one you had turned out to be a pretty cute little thing so you do a reasonably good job with daughters also." He leaned over and kissed her cheek then slid out of bed looking to take a piss and get some breakfast. Later that morning he was sitting in his chair frowning over a duty list while Barbala and Catalyn cleaned up the breakfast dishes in the kitchen. Ilona was instructing Katta in the resizing of a dress while Piroska sat on the floor scrunched up against his legs watching intently as Vrsula suckled both Dorottya and little Zsotia. "Ilona, you did say this was the latest sheet the Customs Office put out, didn't you?" he asked. "Yes, dear," she said pausing mid-needle stroke and looking up. "I picked it up yesterday as usual. The funny thing was there seemed to be a lot more of them there than there usually are. Almost like nobody else was picking them up." "I'm not surprised," he grunted. "If this is correct, they've doubled the duty on everything and added a few new items to the list. With this and the extra bite the Customs Master squeezes out, I doubt if anybody would bother picking one up at all." There was a knock at the door and Ilona nodded for Katta to answer it. A minute later Gyorgy strolled in only looking slightly worse for wear from his night of carousing. "Hey, these three clean up pretty well," he said looking around at the three new girls. "Hi, Ilona. Oh, I see you got the latest shit right out of the toilet," he grunted waving towards the sheet Antal was holding. "Yeah," Antal grumbled back. Reaching down he patted Piroska on the head and said, "Little one, you don't have to sit there; it can't be comfortable." Quick as a flash Piroska slid up and into his lap scrunching back into his chest. "Well that's not exactly what I meant," he mumbled. "But what the hell." Ilona and Katta laughed while Vrsula's mouth twitched in what could have been a smile. Ignoring his new lap cat he looked back at Gyorgy and continued, "If their intention is to shut down all shipping through Eregli this seems like a damn good way to do it. Did you happen to hear anything while you were out fucking your way through the whorehouses?" "As a matter of fact I did," he sighed as he sat down on a stool and wiped his brow. "I heard plenty and let me tell you ain't none of it good. Leastwise for Eregli, that's for sure; might be some opportunity for us, though, if you know what I mean." Antal motioned for him to continue. "Word is there hasn't been a ship from any of the major lines in here for over a week and the scuttlebutt is they ain't planning to come back. Most are bypassing Eregli completely and putting in at either Batumi or Meyisti," Gyorgy continued with a slight smirk which quickly disappeared. "I don't have to tell you it's going to get ugly out there real quick-like," he said now frowning. "It ain't like Eregli imports its food or anything like that but without it there sure as shit ain't going to be any money to buy it from the farms. Heard tell more than a few of the farmers are holding back from coming to market; the price of food is already starting to go up. "The only good thing, if you can call it that, is that it looks like there are going to be fewer mouths to feed," he continued. "Seems like there are a lot of people packing up and heading out, either up to Corum, Batumi or even Meyisti." "That's bad," Antal nodded stroking Piroska's hair absentmindedly. "But it can't be good for Corum either. I wonder how long before they start to feel the effect of this madness." "I don't think Corum would even notice if all of Eregli packed up and moved in with them," Gyorgy chuckled. "No, but they will be feeling the effects of shipping costs soon enough," Antal replied absently his eyes staring over their heads but seeing nothing. "Batumi is still in our province but on the other side of the mountains. The cartage alone will be almost triple what it would be from here. Of course that's assuming whoever's pulling the strings on this farce isn't doing the same in Batumi. If they are or start to do it there ... Well, Meyisti isn't even in our province and it's even farther away. A lot of Corum's income comes from transshipping goods on into Eskisehir. If it's going through Meyisti," he paused and shrugged, "I doubt it will end up going through Corum." "Doesn't the Herceg see this?" Gyorgy asked shaking his head. "Is he so much the fool?" "I don't know about him being a fool," Antal answered. "But he is young — younger than we are, even. If I remember he reaches his majority soon but I'm not exactly sure when. Still that's only eighteen and while that may seem like a fine age to the two of us it's still pretty young. It may very well be he knows and can't do anything about it or it may be the advice he is getting is ... inadequate. "Either way that's his problem not ours," Antal sighed and looked back towards Gyorgy. "You were right about one thing: This definitely looks like a golden opportunity for those of us outside the normal shipping channels, so to say. Prices are going to be going way up. Why don't you see if the rest of the Guild members are willing to sit down and talk about this situation, Gyorgy?" The Smuggler's Guild Antal referred too wasn't an officially sanctioned trade group like the Stonemasons or the Merchants Guild, of course. It was more a loose association of the leaders of the more prominent smuggling clans and higher-profile independents. Antal fit in as one of the independents since he wasn't associated with any of the family clans. His ownership of four of the small smuggling craft was respectable although it didn't substantially compare to a few of the larger families that operated up to twenty of the small craft and the even fewer that used larger mother ships to supply their smaller stealthier vessels. "Sure, Antal," Gyorgy nodded. "I can't see that would be a problem. There are already more than a few going gold-blind and dreaming about what they're going to buy with their new-found wealth. My guess is they'll want to make sure nobody is going to horn in on their turf and will be more than happy to sit down and split up the pie." "Yeah well don't start getting that dust in your eyes yourself, friend," Antal cautioned. "The skimmers (a semi-derogatory term used for customs agents by smugglers in reference to their propensity to "skim" the best off the top of any shipment) aren't going to just lie down and disappear and I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't end up getting a little extra help once our enlightened rulers see just how much their revenue is going to drop here in the near future." "Hmm," Gyorgy muttered stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You could be right. So what do you plan to do about it?" "Not much, actually," Antal admitted. "I plan to keep doing exactly what we've been doing. Making the runs upriver and letting the farmers get the goods back into the city." "The profit will be much larger if we bring it here directly," Gyorgy pointed out. "It always has been," Antal nodded as he stroked Piroska's hair like she was a kitten sitting in his lap. "But it's also a hell of a lot more dangerous. Sure, there are a lot of places to pull into that should be out of the way but I'm not liking what I think the new odds are." The city of Eregli spread out along the Bay of Eregli like the crescent of a quarter-moon. The best facilities and docks along with the Imperial warehouses were at the west end of the crescent next to the mouth of the river's main channel. On the far side of the river channel were the swamps and estuaries through which Antal and his crews did most of their traveling, becoming increasingly poorer and less well patrolled towards the other tip of the crescent where the Eregli fishing fleet and fish markets were concentrated. Hidden among the multitude of these small craft leaving and returning every day were a fair percentage of Eregli's smugglers. For the most part it was cost-prohibitive and manpower-intensive to make any real attempt to regulate this traffic so it had been the practice of the Customs Master and his agents to turn a blind eye to them. "If the legit commercial traffic really does start avoiding the Imperial docks — and I have to believe it probably will —" he continued, "you can bet your last copper that they're going to start paying attention to whom and what is coming in with the fishing fleet. It's a big bay but it's not that big. "Sure you cut out the middleman if you bring it directly into Eregli," he shrugged. "But I'm betting we can still make a good profit upriver and to tell the truth I'd rather be rich and live to enjoy it than filthy rich and dangling at the end of a rope." "Well it certainly sounds better when you put it that way," Gyorgy grinned. I'm a bit partial to having my neck staying the same length it is right now. So, is that what you're going to tell the rest of them?" "I'm going to tell them I intend to keep doing what I've been doing and stay out of their way," Antal stated pointedly. "I seriously doubt they give a rat's ass what small-time operators like us do and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't believe many of them will think the upriver trade worth their while; in fact a lot of them can't do it since they draft too much. It would be best for us if they know what we're doing while making it appear they shouldn't care what we're doing." "You're the boss," Gyorgy shrugged again as he stood up. "I'll start spreading it around that you think there should be a meeting of the Guild. Most of the independents will come, I'm sure, and the other small operators but I'm not too sure about the big clans." "Don't tell anyone that I'm the one who's asking for it," Antal grinned. "Just let it be known that someone is getting one organized. I'll bet as soon as one of the clans hears about it they'll think it was one of the other clans and start getting it set up to beat them to it." "You're a sneaky bastard, you know that?" Gyorgy returned the grin. "I'll bet one of these days we'll be one of those clans." "Let's survive this first, then we'll worry about setting you up on a clan council," Antal returned gravely. Gyorgy nodded and left. ------- For the next few mornings Antal wasn't surprised to find that when he awoke he had a double bundle sleeping either on top of him or curled up tightly against his side. "It's kind of cute," Ilona teased him when he grumbled half-heartedly about it. Other than that he had to admit to having very little to complain about with his newly acquired slaves. Piroska was as usual quiet as a mouse and dutifully followed Ilona or Barbala around everywhere when she couldn't be pressed up against Antal's leg or in his lap. She'd look on with wide eyes as they went about the normal household chores and helped when she could. Katta, to no one's surprise, was constantly in motion and talking the whole time she was moving. She and Catalyn seemed to bond together after Cat realized she wasn't being replaced in her master's bed by the blonde whirlwind. Being of a like age they were so often together Ilona, followed by the rest of the household, soon began calling them by the collective "The Cats" rather than using their given names. Vrsula remained for the most part quiet, passive and generally aloof although her eyes took in everything that was going on around her as she sat and fed one of the babies or repaired a piece of torn clothing. "This is extraordinarily good work, Vrsula," Antal complimented her as he rubbed a repaired seam in one of his trousers. "Were you a tailor before — before you were captured?" Out of curiosity Antal and the other women had asked the new slaves their story of how they came to be where they were and as expected Katta's wasn't unexpected or that unusual. Her father had sold her to a nearby plantation owner and was used as one of his mistresses until the owner's wife had her sold after her pregnancy. Vrsula told them little more than she had been the daughter of a minor official in a tiny city of a small country far across the sea. She had been enslaved when the ship she was on was taken by pirates and then sold in one of the ports of the empire. Antal never pressed her for additional information since she dutifully did whatever she was told and unlike Katta never caused any trouble. Not that Katta purposefully went around causing trouble but, like the sweeping tail of a large dog romping through a crowded room, things just seemed to happen in her wake. "Yes, it is," Ilona agreed from next to him. "She definitely has the hand for it. I've seen tailors do much worse. See how tiny and perfect her stitches are?" "Thank you, Master, Mistress," Vrsula inclined her head minutely. "I am no tailor but women in my country are expected to sew their own clothes." "I am thinking that maybe she can start making our clothing for all of us; or maybe even take in some repair work from others," Ilona added. "It might earn us a little extra coin." "Couldn't hurt," Antal shrugged. "Not the way prices are going up around here. Sure I can bring some of it in myself but I'd hate to lose too much cargo space and the prices are going up on the other end also. What do you say, Vrsula? You want to become our tailor?" "I do as my master and mistress command me," she murmured lowering her eyes. "Of course you do," Antal said kneeling down and lifting her chin with his fingers until he could see her eyes. "But happy slaves work harder and I'd like to know if doing this would make you happy or at least not unhappy." "I would not be unhappy, Master Antal," she answered giving him a brief smile. "Good," he nodded. "And maybe as a reward I will grant you a favor when you have finished your first set. Let me know if there is something you might want." "I will think about it, Master," she replied giving him a slight nod. "Good. You please me," he smiled and stroked her cheek before standing up and walking out with Ilona. "Trying a new training method on your new slaves?" she asked working hard not to smile. "Oh I like the old training method just fine," he answered with raised eyebrows and a leer. "But I'm afraid if I used it on all of them I'd be exhausted before I was halfway through what with the upkeep on the older ones and all that." "Oh you," Ilona giggled and lightly punched him in the arm. "Now I had an idea about getting some chickens and maybe putting a small garden in the back and having The Cats take care of it..." ------- "How did your meeting go, Master Antal?" Ilona asked when he arrived back at home very late after dark a couple of nights later. "Fine," he nodded as he stamped the street dust off his boots and shrugged the night-cloak off his shoulders. Ilona took the cloak, shook it once and hung it up on a peg by the front door. "Pretty much as I expected. Once the big clans heard I was planning to continue running my cargo upriver and not bring anything directly here, they mostly ignored me which is exactly what I'd hoped for. "Not much of a surprise anywhere for that matter," he continued. "Most everybody seems to be planning to continue doing what they've been doing. A lot of laughing at the idea the skimmers are going to be tightening down, which I think is pretty stupid but," he shrugged, "that's not my problem. What are you doing up so late? Shouldn't you be in bed?" "What? A house full of slaves and nobody to greet the master when he arrives home?" she scoffed. "I should think not!" "Well that's exactly where you should be heading," he chuckled slapping her lightly on the ass. "Because that's where I'm headed for sure. Listening to those windbags bragging about how much they're going to make from this situation has given me a headache." "Ouch!" Ilona yipped. "Are you beating the slaves again?" "Just the ones with the pretty bottoms," he chuckled again and she wiggled the aforementioned asset as they strolled into their bedroom. "I'm too damn tired to do much else," he yawned. Barbala and Catalyn were curled up together on one side of the bed snoring softly with Piroska pressed up against Barbala's back. "Hmm, I'd say it looks like we have a visitor again but I'm not really sure she qualifies as a 'visitor' anymore," Antal remarked as he stripped off his clothes. "I hope you don't mind," Ilona whispered worriedly as she took his clothing and folded it before setting it on the nearby clothes closet. "She's very young and it seems to calm her down when she's in here. I can take her back to her room if you want me to." "I suppose it doesn't matter," he shrugged. "She'd just end up in here tomorrow morning. So long as it doesn't bother her when I use my women as the Powers meant them to be used..." he shrugged again. "But then if it does, she can leave. But where is the ... Oh, there she is." He noticed the small crib in the corner of the room with Zsotia sleeping peacefully in it. "They won't be a problem," Ilona added quickly. "And if they are, I'll take care of it." "Fine by me," he yawned again as he slipped under the covers and wrapped his arm around Ilona when she followed him. ------- Antal awoke slowly the next morning; sliding gently from a highly erotic dream to an equally stimulating reality. He smiled and groaned softly as he felt his cock encased in one of the tightest pussies he'd ever experienced. It was so tight it felt more like a slippery, oil-coated fist than a woman's cunt. The owner of that marvelous orifice was moving slowly up and down on his erect shaft and he could hear her labored breathing as she did. If he had to guess he would say whoever it was was very close to climaxing just as he was. "Oh, yes," he hissed when he felt his lover's internal muscles contract tightening their hold on his cock even more triggering the contractions in his scrotum that signaled his impending eruption. "Oh, yes!" he groaned as the first spurt of his seed traveled through his shaft and into the waiting womb. As the second jet followed the first he lifted his hands to grasp her shoulders as she increased the speed of her thrusts aided by the lubrication provided by his semen. His hands encountered slim, delicate, and completely unfamiliar shoulders and thin upper arms; his eyes opened in a flash and he croaked, "Piroska!" The girl mewled and looked down at him with terror in her eyes even as she rapidly humped her hips attempting to drain every last drop of his essence. As the last spurt entered her body she ground her groin against his, locked her heels around his thighs and lay flat on his stomach with her hand clutching his sides as if to prevent him from flinging her off. She cried pitifully and rubbed her face in his chest as he stared down at her in shocked disbelief. "What's going on?" Ilona mumbled sleepily from his side and lifted her head her eyes opening wide when she saw the two locked in their passionate embrace. "I just found her there; I swear!" Antal protested. He let his hands slip from her shoulders to her back as he tried to soothe the trembling girl. "It's all right, Piroska. Nobody's going to hurt you." "Speak for yourself," Catalyn grumbled from Barbala's other side. "It was my turn. She should get in line just like everybody else has to. Ouch!" she cried as Barbala smacked her sharply on one exposed thigh. "The master can use any of us he wishes, anytime he wishes," her mother chastised her. "Although I will say I'm a little surprised," she added as she rolled over to face them. "Not as much as I was," Antal quipped. He moved his hands from Piroska's back and gently lifted her up and onto his chest. They could hear the soft plop as his semi-rigid cock came out of her and he ignored the trail of girl juice and semen that pooled on his stomach from her leaking pussy as she was pulled upward. "Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time," Ilona sighed. "It's all right, honey," she said stroking the girl's cheek. "Nobody is angry with you." Piroska sniffed and glanced over at Ilona then looked up at Antal. She relaxed visibly when she saw the concern in his eyes but no anger, sighed and went back to rubbing her cheek on his chest. "But, Piroska, why... ?" Antal started until Ilona interrupted him. "I think she's telling you she's one of your women now," Ilona chuckled. "But she didn't have to do this," he protested softly. "After what she's gone through, I would have thought ... I would have thought this would be the last thing she'd want." "My dear son and master," Ilona smiled, "you don't know much about women." "I don't think I know anything about women," he corrected. "The instructions were sketchy and conflicting at best." All three of the older women in the bed laughed. "You saved this little one and her baby," Ilona replied stroking Piroska's hair this time, the girl almost purred. "This is the only way she knows to thank you and tell you she is yours." Ilona paused for a moment and tweaked the girl's nose, "Of course she's also hoping you'd enjoy her enough you won't sell her off somewhere. Don't you little one?" Piroska gave her a guilty look and buried her face in his chest again. "Well I certainly did enjoy it," he admitted. Piroska raised her head and gave him a cautious smile. "But I meant what I said: These three aren't required to fuck me; I'm not going to sell them anywhere. Do you understand that, Piroska?" The little redhead looked up at him and nodded but scooted back and started rubbing her slippery slit over his now flaccid cock. Suddenly she moved forward and started placing kisses all over his face and neck. "I think she understands," Barbala laughed. "But I think she's telling you she definitely wants to." "Certainly I'm not going to say no," Antal chuckled reaching around to pat the girls wiggling bare bottom. "Of course you three don't have a choice," he continued solemnly. "You three will continue to service me as I see fit. Catalyn, that's a very strange expression; what is it for?" "My darling daughter wants to complain that it's not fair that we three have to continue spreading our legs for our master's pleasure when the three new slaves don't," Barbala grinned. "But she also doesn't want anyone else in line taking up a turn for her. Such a conflict! I suspect she's about to burst," Barbala teased. "Mother... !" Catalyn whined as everybody laughed. "It might not be fair but nobody said I had to be fair," Antal leaned back smugly. "But we do need to be careful, little one," he said lifting Piroska's chin with a finger. Piroska sat up on his stomach and looked down at him. Antal could see a few pearly white drops of milk beading up on each of her small nipples. With a finger he wiped them off and brought them to his mouth. "Mmm, much better, I think. But this might not be a very good idea, little mother. It's obvious I'm not ravaging a virgin child but I can't believe it's a good idea for her to be pregnant again. She is still very young." "Hmm," Ilona said thoughtfully. "It may be a moot point considering just the amount she's leaking all over your belly could impregnate all six of us over again and Powers only know how much she still has inside her. But I think it's not as much a problem as you might think. Yes, she is still young but she has already given birth and she's older now and will be older still when she gives birth if you've got her with child. I don't think it will be anything to worry about. Besides, nursing mothers seem to have at least some small immunity to getting pregnant right away. I'd say enjoy her as much as you wish and not to worry about it. But that is just my humble opinion, Master," she said dropping her eyes. Then she added without looking up, "Of course we also hope you will continue to take your pleasure with the rest of us, Master." "I don't think there is much of a chance that won't be happening," he chuckled and stretched his arms out as Ilona and Barbala curled up next to him one arm around Ilona's shoulders and the other hand reaching to stroke Catalyn's neck. "I suppose four isn't much more than three," he sighed contentedly. "At least the other two won't be as demanding as my four little slaves here are." "I wouldn't be too sure of that, Master Antal," Catalyn giggled. "I think Katta's pretty anxious to serve her master this way also. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't start hinting she'd like to join everybody here in the big bed." "Really?" Antal sounded surprised. "I never would have thought..." "I told you that you didn't know much about women," Ilona laughed. "I think Cat is right about Katta; I'm not sure about Vrsula though. She's very hard to understand: very controlled." "Well, I'm not going to worry about it either way," Antal yawned. "I'm just going to enjoy what I have now. Speaking of that all these naked bodies have got me horny again. I suppose I should pick one of you to rape next..." "Oh! Me, me! It's my turn," Catalyn shouted crawling over her mother. Even Piroska was grinning as she was pushed off Antal's chest and into Ilona's arms as the older girl scrambled onto her master's body. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 8 "Powers! That was close!" the crewman hissed as the flickering lamps of the patrol boat dimmed and were lost in the heavy vegetation that lined the shallow twisting channel the four smuggler's boats were slowly following. The shouts and calls from the Imperial patrol craft could still be heard although muffled and unintelligible from this distance. "Too fucking close!" Gyorgy growled as he reached over and cuffed the vocal offender. "Be quiet, you ass! If we can hear them then they can hear us. Whispers only and then only if you really need to." Moving cautiously over to where Antal was straining at a boat pole his eyes darting between the channel, the three boats ahead of them and the patrol craft behind them. "That was pretty fucking close," he muttered and Antal nodded. "They're getting better." "Yes," Antal replied softly. "Which means we have to keep getting better." "I think that little trick of yours worked," Gyorgy chuckled. For weeks the patrols in town, the bay and the river's estuaries had been steadily increasing. Now there weren't just the Customs boats to worry about but patrol craft from the provincial Imperial navy. Antal had devised a little device made of waxed paper, a small pot of oil and a wick. It would float after a fashion and when lighted, looked like flashes from a hooded lamp if seen from a distance over water. Antal's thought was if they were pursued in any of the various small channels they would light the wick and their pursuers would be drawn to it thinking it was a smuggler's boat picking its way through the tangled vegetation. This was the first night they had had to use it and so far it had worked. "So far so good," Antal nodded. "Hopefully they didn't get to it quick enough to find out what it was." It was designed to burn for only a short amount of time before it would flare and sink leaving only a few paper ashes on the surface. "Everybody seems to be lined up correctly," he continued. Instead of operating his boats independently as had been his custom, Antal was now sailing with all four of his boats together in a group. It did tend to slow them down slightly but it reduced them to only a single target instead of four in the multitude of channels and river-lets that made up the swampy estuary. It also gave them a considerably better chance to defend themselves if they were found by a single patrol. Of course if they were found and taken they would lose everything but considering the outcome of any potential capture Antal believed the benefits outweighed the added risks. "They're getting to be a thick as flies on a pile of dogshit," Gyorgy muttered spitting over the side. "I think I saw three patrols there and unless we're just powerfully damned unlucky tonight that means there's a crap load of them out there." He was speaking almost normally now as there could be heard only the occasional shout in the ever-increasing distance. "Someone is spending a hell of a lot of resources for damn little return," Antal agreed. "I'm not sure I understand it, to tell the truth. Unless someone out there is doing a heck of a lot better than we are, all of the Guild put together is bringing in enough to feed the city but not much else. It's almost like someone is doing his best to starve Eregli, but I can't figure out why." "It's like a farmer slaughtering his stock and firing his fields before an invading army gets to them," Gyorgy mused. "Yes, something like that," Antal replied sounding surprised. "Although I think it's more like a thief trying to steal everything he can before the constables can get there and stop him. But that still doesn't answer the question as to why. Why is someone in such a hurry they'd kill the cow that was giving them milk for just a day's worth of meat?" "Beats me," Gyorgy shrugged, squatted down and tamped a pipe full of smoke-weed. Taking a tapper he lit it from the small charcoal brazier and puffed. "You know they can probably smell that a couple of miles away as it hangs in the air," Antal noted. "I know," Gyorgy chuckled. "It'll probably drive 'em crazy." "So, has that little blonde bitch of yours finally got you to slip her the meat yet?" Gyorgy continued companionably. "How the hell do you know about that?" Antal frowned. "I got my ways," his friend chuckled. "Well, has she?" "You spend far too much time with my women and they talk too much," Antal said trying to sound aggravated. ------- Catalyn's prediction that Katta would soon want her share of their master's attention proved to be accurate. Less than a day after it became obvious that Piroska was now not just Antal's slave but also his bed companion, she began casting subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle hints that she would not only be receptive but eager for those same attentions. Body modesty wasn't something that overly concerned the members of Antal's household. A slave normally never had any say in the matter and Antal never complained; he saw four of them completely naked every night he was there and the bare breasts of the other two regularly as they fed their babies, so naked female flesh was not uncommon. Katta made sure she fed little Anna where Antal would be sure to see her, as opposed to Vrsula who exposed what was needed and no more. She delighted in stripping down to almost nothing when doing this necessary chore. Antal was not unaffected by Katta's obvious charms but was very confused at first and determined to keep the promise he'd made about not forcing himself on any of the three new women. Before long he understood that she was trying to entice him into taking her and it became a game: She would do her best to make him as hot and horny as possible and he would do his best to ignore her. It really wasn't a fair game because Antal had four other women that would gladly bend over or spread their legs for him if he'd give them a glance, so pretending to remain noble and continuing with his vow of not fucking the rescued captives — Piroska excluded, of course — was fairly easy. Frustrated in her attempts to entice him with her body, Katta resorted to other more familiar and, for Katta, expected tactics. It came to a head one day while Antal was working when Ilona entered the living area dragging a hissing and spitting Katta by her hair. "Would you tie this stupid slit to the chair and fuck the crap out of her!" Ilona demanded angrily. "She's been a pain in my and everybody else's ass for the last two days and either you need to beat her till she can't move or fuck her until she can't stand up! I don't care which; just deal with her!" she exclaimed, shoving the cursing girl towards him. So he did. She put up a good fight, hissing, spitting, biting and cursing as he tied her to the chair. She shrieked as he smacked her bare ass ten times but opened her legs as wide as possible when he moved between them to plunge into her incredibly wet and receptive pussy. He could feel her orgasm around his cock as he mercilessly drove into her again and again and then passed out when he finally exploded in her clutching tunnel. That evening she matter-of-factly stripped, crawled into their now-crowded bed and spooned with Piroska as Antal first took Ilona, then Barbala and finally Catalyn before they all fell asleep. ------- "Yes I did, as if it's any of your business," he answered Gyorgy testily. "It's ain't but it ain't stopping me either," replied an unrepentant Gyorgy. "I'm thinking maybe I should buy me a couple of little slave girls myself. Pay for it once instead of all the time, if you know what I mean. Families are selling off their daughters fer next to nothing nowadays just to get rid of the extra mouth to feed. I could get 'em clean and young and not have to worry about anyone's sloppy seconds, if ya know what I mean." "Can't say that I'm complaining," Antal shrugged. "I might suggest that you get an older one also. She'll help keep your house in order and the younger ones in line." "It's an idea," Gyorgy mumbled around the stem of his pipe. "Kind of like the young ones myself; but I ain't above stroking an older one now and then." "You might be surprised," Antal chuckled. "I'm not saying the older ones are necessarily better, but they sure aren't worse and that's a fact." ------- "It's getting downright nasty in town," the old smuggler sighed and shook his head as he and Antal watched their men unload the boats and move the goods to waiting wagons. "It's like there is a war going on but no one knows which side anyone else is on." "I know. I live there, remember?" Antal answered. "Aye, that you do," the old smuggler grunted. "Don't know why you just didn't get out while you had the chance. Pick a nice little farm out here somewhere and never have to set foot in that cesspool again. Be a lot safer for yourself and that little harem you've been putting together." "That's actually not a bad idea," Antal snorted. "Maybe I'll do just that. There really isn't much going on in the area where we live but I can see where it might not stay that way forever. No, that's not a bad idea at all." "I hear they picked up some of your competition the other night," the old man said changing the subject. "Saw them stretched up on the gallows this morning." "Yeah, Cero and his crew," Antal nodded. "Heard tell he thought he had one of the skimmers in his pocket but the son-of-a-bitch didn't stay bought. It's getting so you can't trust anybody anymore." They both laughed at that. "Besides, he wasn't really my competition. The dumb bastard would bring a load in right out there in broad daylight right up to his own dock. Talk about arrogance. I swear the horse you have pulling that wagon has more sense than he did. "But it does sort of illustrate why relying on bribery isn't a good business plan for a long-term venture," he continued. "I hear tell that the skimmers get half the value of every load they find so it'd have to be a hell of a bribe to compete against that. "Of course, over the long term the bribes would add up to be more than the reward for a single load," he mused and then shrugged. "But then have you ever met a skimmer that thinks any farther ahead than tomorrow? I sure haven't." "Aye, especially when you consider the fact that if anybody in town finds out who they were they'd be nailed to a wall with their guts coiled around their feet," the old man nodded. "Yeah, that's why I like staying away from taking anything directly into the city myself," Antal grinned. "I'd rather you take those chances. I don't make as much profit but then I'm alive to spend what I do make." "Well I'm glad I could be of service to you, youngster," the old smuggler guffawed. "Actually it's not that dangerous doing it by land. To begin with, it's a lot more difficult to see us than it is out there in the open in a boat. Then there's the whole question of are we bringing it in, taking it out, or just moving it around? It's not as easy as picking up a boat that has to unload at a dock. There aren't enough skimmers alive to check every wagon coming in or going out of the city. Although I do hear rumors they may be calling in the army to help out with that. If they do, I just may retire and watch the city erupt. No telling what will happen if they truly do close down all the smuggling." "I may be there right behind you," Antal agreed. "Might do it anyway if more of my colleagues try to get around the heat in the city and bypass the docks. It might get a bit crowded out here and the more crowded it gets, the more dangerous it gets." "Well, until they get smarter we can get richer," the old man laughed. "I'd be a lot richer if I didn't have to buy the same crap back at home that I'm delivering to you," Antal grumbled. "I get searched almost every time I go home now. The more I think about it the better your idea sounds." "Sometimes us old folks have an idea or two; see ya next time," the old smuggler waved as he strode towards his wagons. Antal waved back then turned and shouted, "Come on, Gyorgy! Get these lazy bastards moving and let's get this place cleaned up! I want it to look like somebody just stopped here for dinner, not like we've been moving cargo half the night." ------- "So, there it is. What do you think about the idea?" Antal said looking around at the faces of the women expectedly. "Why are you asking us, Antal?" Ilona said after a momentary silence. "You are the master here. We go where you go and do what you tell us to do." "True," he nodded. "But I'd still like your thoughts on the matter. After all it would mean uprooting everyone here and moving all we have to somewhere strange and different." "This is just a house," Katta shrugged and Catalyn nodded in agreement. "What does it matter where we are?" "We're tied to you, Master Antal," Barbala smiled, "not to a roof or set of walls. As long as you are there, it doesn't matter to us where 'there' is." "You are all very strange slaves," he pretended to frown and more than one or two of them giggled back at him. "But be that as it may, since no one seems to have any argument against it I'll start looking for a place for us out in the country somewhere. So far no one has bothered any of you when I'm gone but I can't guarantee that in the future. I see no advantage to staying here in the city and plenty for leaving. I'll start looking and asking about the next time I'm out." "Will there be anything else, Antal?" Ilona asked and when he shook his head shooed most of the rest out to get their chores done. The only one who remained behind was Vrsula. "Vrsula, is there something you wanted?" he asked looking up at her. She was standing next to his chair with little Dorottya nuzzling her breast drowsily. "If you think this move is a bad idea I'm sure everyone would have liked to hear why. Or is there some other problem?" "I am sure a move would be a good idea," she responded softly settling her little girl in another chair before standing up next to him again. "We will follow our master where he leads us, as it should be." "Then is there something else?" he asked puzzled. She remained silent for a moment and then stated, "You do not like me." "What?" he cocked with surprise. "Don't be silly; I like you just fine. Haven't I treated you with respect? Have I been cruel to you or to Dorottya? I don't understand, Vrsula." "It has been weeks since you have taken both Piroska and Katta to your bed and yet you have not summoned me for your pleasure," she stated simply. "I must assume you do not find me pleasing." "I ... I ... I don't know what to say," he chuckled shaking his head as if to clear it. "I assure you it has nothing to do with whether or not I find you attractive, Vrsula. You are an extremely beautiful woman and very desirable. Truthfully, my urges have been well taken care of here lately or else I would have done just that. I had assumed because of what has been done to you in the past you would not desire such attention. Now normally a master shouldn't think about a slave's desires in such a matter but again I am well taken care of, so it pleases me to allow you the freedom from my attentions. "Besides," he smiled crookedly. "I'm not sure it would be accurate to say I 'took' Piroska and Katta to my bed; more like they wormed their way into it and now I can't get them out." Vrsula smiled at this; or at least the corners of her mouth turned up slightly which was about as close to a smile as anyone had ever seen on her. "I was under the impression you would not appreciate my attentions," he continued. "Which I can understand given everything you've gone through. I told the three of you when I 'acquired' you that I wouldn't and I meant it. You and your daughter's positions are secure here whether or not you come to my bed." "Thank you, master," she nodded solemnly. "I did not enjoy the couplings my former masters required of me and could not imagine any woman desiring it." She paused for a moment and continued, "But such is the lot for a woman. Be we a wife or a slave, it is not our place to say no." "I am now giving you that choice," Antal answered. "I was once engaged to be married," she said seemingly changing the subject. "I didn't know that," he replied raising his eyebrows. "Because I did not tell anyone," she replied raising her own in almost mocking imitation. "I was on my way to my wedding when our ship was taken. It was an arranged marriage, of course. I did not know the man; I was given to him to seal a ... contract. All I know is he was almost sixty years old and already had four wives. I was not asked my opinion in the matter; my father decreed and I had to obey. So even when I was 'free' I did not have the choice to say no." Antal tried to listen attentively but Vrsula's large breasts hanging out of her unfastened housedress were a delightful distraction. "I never would have imagined that a woman would willingly seek such attention from any man," she said while gathering her dress up. She sat down on his lap, her legs outside his and facing him. Being a tall woman and him only of average height sitting like that she had to look down at him with her breasts almost level with his chin. "And yet," she continued, "every morning the women leaving your bed are either smiling like they have received the gift of sunshine or pouting because they haven't been given their share. I wonder why that is?" she said looking down at him. "Hmm ... I don't know..." he choked. There were tiny beads of milk still on her nipples and he licked his lips remembering how sweet and rich it had tasted when he had first suckled her. ""I don't either, but I feel I should find out," she answered. She continued looking down at him while her hands were busy in his lap. Soon his trousers were unfastened and his cock was sticking up at full mast between them. "I am not very experienced but this seems to be a big one," Vrsula observed. "I wonder if that has anything to do with their smiles. It doesn't seem reasonable, though; I would think a larger one would hurt more, but I suppose I should try it out to make sure myself." Antal whined just a bit as her fingers lightly stroked up and down his length. Lifting herself up Vrsula placed the head of his cock in her slit and pressed down. He went in but only a little bit. She wasn't dry but she wasn't even close to being wet enough to take his girth easily and she winced at the pain. "Stop," he gasped and held her hips. She stopped moving but looked down at him with a frown. "You're not ready," he explained. "If you try to force me in it's going to hurt; you, not me, that is." "What do you mean 'not ready?'" she asked. "I want to do this." "You may want to up here," he chuckled caressing the hair on the side of her head. "But that doesn't mean you're ready down here." He gave her another caress this time on the side of her thigh. "But, I..." she started to protest. "Let me try something," he interrupted. Bending forward he captured one turgid nipple in his mouth and began to lightly suck while stroking a bare thigh with one hand at the same time softly fondling the other breast. "Ah ... That does feel nice," Vrsula hissed softly. She closed her eyes and moaned as he continued his ministrations; her own hands coming up to lightly touch the sides of his face. After a few minutes she unconsciously wiggled her hips and he effortlessly sank into her about half way. Her eyes popped open and she let out a small, startled "oh." With a satisfied hum she began moving her hips again, deliberately sliding back and forth on his embedded pike until he was soon entirely inside her and their pubic hair lay tangled together at the point of their joining. "I feel ... very full," she panted. "Does it hurt?" he asked. "No, but I feel like I should be doing something," she gasped. "Maybe this?" He pulled back just a little and pushed back into her. "Yes!" she moaned. "More!" He was a bit constrained by where he was sitting and by her weight so he could only give her little jabs to begin with. It didn't take her long to realize she could control the depth and speed of his penetration by moving herself on his shaft instead of waiting for him to do it. Soon she was bouncing up and down on his lap grunting each time the spongy head of his cock bumped into the rubbery mouth of her womb causing a little jolt of pleasure/pain with each collision. "Argh!" she groaned as she pulled his lips away from her breast and bent down to capture those same lips with hers. "Mmm..." she moaned as the first wave of pleasure erupted from somewhere in her groin. "Argh!" she howled as the second one hit when she felt his hot seed being pumped into her tight, stuffed cavity. Clamping down with the muscles in her cunt, she tried to milk the essence from his impaling shaft like a thirsty man sucking the last drops of water from a damp rag. Bonelessly she slumped against his chest as every muscle in her body suddenly went slack. Feeling tired, elated and very satisfied she rested draped over his body noticing that her legs were beginning to cramp from their unnatural position but not caring. "Well, that was ... unexpected," they heard from over by the doorway. Her head felt like it was made of stone as she lifted it and turned to look. Vrsula's eyes didn't seem to want to focus but she forced them and noted that Ilona was leaning up against the doorframe watching them with her arms crossed beneath her breasts and eyebrows raised in feigned shock. "I suppose when we move we'll have to get an even bigger bed now," Ilona smirked. Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 9 "You still looking for a new place?" Gyorgy asked in a low voice just above a whisper. "Yes," Antal answered without looking at his friend. His eyes were tracking along the approaching riverbank. "Have a few that are interesting; the right price but just a little too close to the city to be really comfortable. The problem is the farther out you go the higher the prices, but I think I'm just going to have to cut the purse strings and do it." "Yeah, I suppose I'd do the same in your situation," Gyorgy agreed. "Don't feel the need myself. I figure I can get myself out anytime if I really need to; but then I'm not dragging a whole harem along behind me, am I?" Antal nodded once and grunted. "You heard the Herceg himself arrived in the city last week, didn't you?" he continued. "Might be a good time to lay low for a while." "Already thought of that," Antal muttered back. "This might be our last run for a bit, at least until we can see what our little leader is up to. I've already seen far more army and navy types in town than makes me happy. Can't see that they've actually done anything yet but they aren't here just for show; you can bet on that." "They've made the prices at the whorehouses go up if that counts," Gyorgy chuckled. "They've made the prices on everything go up," Antal snorted in disgust. "From what I've heard they're not bringing in any of their own rations but are commandeering what they need and paying with scrip, not even hard coin! The stuff isn't even worth wiping your ass with. Not only is it going to be too dangerous to do this much longer, there won't be anybody left with the coin to pay for it. "Do you see the signal fire? I can't see anything," he said changing the subject. "Not yet," Gyorgy replied peering into the darkness. "Maybe if we get a bit closer..." "Something doesn't feel right," Antal muttered. "You sure this is the right place?" his friend asked. "I never could figure out which place we'd meet or why." "That was the whole point," Antal grumped. "Just the old man and I knew; we figured the fewer people who knew the better." "Maybe he's just late," Gyorgy shrugged. "Maybe," Antal grudgingly admitted. "But we're not going any closer until—" "There," Gyorgy hissed. "I see it: the signal fire!" He pointed to the small flicker of light on the shore. "So it is. Very well, signal the others and let's move in slowly," Antal ordered. "It still doesn't feel right and it couldn't hurt to be cautious." "You're getting to be such an old woman," Gyorgy chuckled. "Yeah well, this old woman can still kick your ass so we do it my way," Antal growled. "Well, since you put it that way..." It was dark as the inside of a sack with the little bit of moon there was covered by a layer of clouds as they slowly approached the shore. It was almost impossible to distinguish any real shapes, just dark blobs broken up by even darker areas. The only sounds were those of insects, the gentle lap of the river against the sides of the boats and the grinding of gravel as they crunched against the bank. "Start unloading but do it quietly," Antal told Gyorgy. "I'll go see if I can find the old man. I want to get this done as quickly as possible." Antal could barely make out the return nod. Jumping out of the bow and onto the bank boat pole still in his hand, Antal started moving slowly towards the signal fire. He'd made it about half way when he heard the clanking of metal on metal and froze in place. Suddenly he heard the shouted order, "Halt! In the name of the empire, stand where you are!" Immediately afterwards the light from about twenty lanterns blazed all around him as their shrouds were pulled off. "Gyorgy, shove off! It's a trap!" he screamed as he turned around to run towards the river. Even if he couldn't make it to the boats in time to catch them he could at least jump into the river and swim out to meet them. "Halt! Halt I say!" someone yelled from behind and he heard the thump of heavy boots coming his way far too close to allow for an escape. "I'll halt all right," he grunted and twisted around with his pole in front of him. The first soldier to reach him looked surprised as the heavy staff slammed into the side of his helmet dropping him stunned to his knees. The second one was driven back into his fellows by the end jamming into his breastplate. After that there was little else to do but swing like a madman until someone had enough sense to circle around behind him and Antal's head exploded in a shower of stars. + + + Antal woke through a red haze of pain that seemed to run the entire length of his body. He was lying on what felt like a rough board and he groaned which caused the pain in his head to suddenly supersede any other damage his body might be trying to tell him about. He was only able to reach up to his chin before his hands were stopped and the sound of clanking metal confirming that wherever else he was, his status wasn't that of guest. Groaning again he tried to roll upright which also confirmed that his legs were shackled together along with his arms. "Might as well stay down and rest, youngster," came a familiar voice out of the darkness. Groggily he tried to open his eyes but even after he did he couldn't tell the difference. Either he was blind or where he had been stuck was as dark as the inside of a sack. "Old man, is that you?" he grunted. "It is," the voice answered. "I can see they got you but it doesn't look like you came easily." Antal grunted and finally pushed his way upright. "Not easily," he croaked, "but it sure looks like they got me." He paused for a moment and continued, "They get you last night also? I sure didn't expect them to be out that far away from the city." "They wouldn't except I told them where to find you," came the answer. "You? You turned on us? I'm going to strangle you, you bastard!" Antal hissed. "Somehow I find myself quite unfrightened," the old man chuckled. "You won't be once I get out of these things," Antal warned shaking his restraints. "I doubt that will be before they hang me at dawn," came the snorted reply. "But if it makes you feel any better maybe you can ask for them to hang me first so you can watch." "What's the matter? Didn't get quite the reward you expected from turning us in?" Antal quipped. "Oh, but I did," the old man said. "They caught us as we were leaving the city. Nobody allowed in or out after dark any more, don't you know. Anyway they said if I assisted them in catching some real smugglers then they'd let my boy and his wife live. I'm sorry for your situation but honestly between choosing you or them... ? Well, it wasn't really a choice." "Couldn't save you own hide, huh?" "But they did give me that choice," the old man responded almost cheerily. "They said that one of us must die; either my son or me. Again it wasn't really a choice." "Yeah, I suppose not," Antal grunted. "They really are bastards aren't they?" "Yes he is," the old man agreed. "It was the Herceg himself that interrogated me. Green as spring grass and a dandy to look at but don't let that fool you; he's as cold and vicious as they come. If he wants to talk to you — and I'm betting he will — you'll see for yourself. Take my advice and just answer his questions; the end of a rope ain't the worst way to die." "Maybe," Antal grunted. "Do you know if any of my men were also taken?" "It's not like they inform me of their current guests," the old man chuckled. "But they were fairly put out when they dumped you in here. If I had to guess, then I'd say no." "Good," Antal grunted again. "Then if I don't say anything; or at least say anything for awhile then they will probably be long gone. I suppose I could hold out for a bit and give them a good head start." "He won't be asking about just your men," the old man replied. "He'll be asking about all the smugglers around here and if you don't come up with the answers he's looking for it could get a wee bit unpleasant." "So you're saying it might irk him a bit if I keep my mouth shut," Antal chuckled. "That just might be worth it. Besides once my crew gets home and lights out, the others will know soon enough. The smarts ones will lay low and the dumb ones ... Well I suppose they'll get what they deserve." "I admire your courage, youngster" the old man said. "But I'm not sure you'll think it courage or stupidity once they put the hot metal to you." "I guess we'll see," Antal mused. As they sat in silence Antal thought about Ilona and the rest of his women hoping Gyorgy had the forethought to get them out of harm's way before he left. + + + It was impossible to tell the passing of time in the cell. To Antal it seemed like it had already been days, at lest his stomach thought it had been, but it was impossible to know since there were no windows in the cell and the only light came from the torches in the hallway flickering under the crack at the bottom of the door. Finally they heard a key in the lock and Antal blinked as four burly soldiers entered and hoisted him up by his shackled arms. "No hanging for you today, old man," one barked as they half-carried, half-dragged Antal out the door. "Maybe tomorrow if you're lucky." "Powers, this fucker is heavy," one grunted as they continued down the dimly lighted passageway. "Can't we just make him walk?" "Herceg wants him now," another replied. "It'd take us forever to get up there with his ankles bound the way they are and there's no fucking way I'm taking them off. This one's dangerous and he's staying trussed up like a high feast goose as long as I got my say in the matter." The complainer just grumbled and continued hauling Antal with the rest of them. They went up two or three flights of dungeon stairs, past guard posts and into the main halls of what Antal assumed was the main city administration building. Up more stairs and down hallways until they came to a large solid door guarded by two more soldiers. "Bringing up the smuggler to see the Herceg," his escort grunted. One of the guards checked his shackles and after confirming they were on and tight nodded and the doors were pushed open. Again he was dragged into a well lighted room and dumped at the feet of a man — a boy really — sitting in a comfortable chair. Antal looked up at the pleasant face of his Herceg who looked down at him with a faint smile. The shadow of a smile was on the lips but the eyes were as cold and heartless as any Antal had ever seen. He could easily imagine this boy/man ordering the death of thousands if he deemed it necessary. "And you are Antal the Smuggler?" the Herceg half-asked. Antal remained silent and stared up. "Answer His Graces' question, filth!" one of the guards yelled and clubbed Antal's face with his fist. "Enough, Corporal," the Herceg said mildly raising one hand off the arm of his chair. "We doubt that our guest is overly impressed by your enthusiastic entreaty to join the conversation." "Give him to the Inquisitors and he'll be talking soon enough, Your Grace," came an oily voice from Antal's side. He turned to look but before he did he noticed a slight frown disturb the seemingly permanent smile on the Herceg's lips. The owner of the new voice was a richly dressed older man whose hair and pointed beard were as well-greased as the words coming out of his mouth. "A few moments with them and he will be babbling like a mountain brook," the man continued. "This is all just a waste of time, Your Grace. Hand him over and let them crack him open and then we can hang him quickly and be done with this farce." "You are undoubtedly correct, Minister Malaceck," the Herceg nodded slightly. "But would those babblings be of much value to us or would they be the ranting lies we so often get? As we have so often observed, those put to the question mostly say whatever they think will stop the pain, and rarely is it the truth. Torture only works when you can distinguish the fact from the false. We believe there are better ways; more expeditious methods of determining what we want. "We are also curious as to your insistence that these hangings be done so quickly," the Herceg continued softly. "Is there some reason we don't know about that we shouldn't take our time and be thorough with our investigations?" "Of course not, Your Grace," the minister replied casually. "But justice delayed does not present the correct example to your subjects. A smuggler rotting in the dungeon doesn't have quite the same impact as one swinging at the end of a rope in the city square. "And need I remind you, Your Grace, you have not yet reached your majority and your actions must still be approved by your council of advisors. As the head of that body and their only representative here, it is my burden to assist you in these matters." "We hardly need reminding, Minister, since you see fit to bring it to my attention on a daily basis," the Herceg responded dryly. "As we remind you each time that since reaching my sixteenth year the Emperor's wish is for that advice and consent to be limited to policy issues only. We do not consider this to be a policy issue." "So you say, Your Grace, but that is only your interpretation and—" "Need we remind you, Minister Malaceck," the Herceg interrupted as if the minister hadn't been talking, "that our eighteenth birthday is close to hand? We achieve our majority in seven days and the mandate for the advisory council expires. We can only hope the members of that esteemed body haven't annoyed their principal to the extent that they expire along with the mandate." "We live to serve, Your Grace," the minister's smile was painted on by now. "Our only thought is for the continued glory of the Empire." "Of course it is," The Herceg smiled back just as falsely. "Who could ever doubt it? "But back to the matter at hand," he said turning to look down at Antal. "As mentioned before there are simpler, more effective methods of obtaining information. If this does not work then there will be plenty of time to resort to the ... more traditional methods." He turned slightly in his chair and signaled to one of the guards near the door. "Sergeant, bring them in." The sergeant saluted and strode through the door. Moments later he led in a line of women: six women and three babies to be exact. Antal's heart fell at the sight of them. It was then he noticed the Customs Master standing in the back watching them nervously. "As you can see we have brought your household slaves to visit you, Antal," the Herceg said mildly. "They seem to be very distraught at your predicament. What a pity, but it does indicate you were something of a benign master at the least and we certainly have no quarrel with that. However you might infer from their presence that we know a little bit about you. But how much? That is the question. We think we will leave you ignorant of that for now. "What we will say is that we will ask you questions and you will answer them," the Herceg continued with a voice that had suddenly turned very cold. "If you refuse to answer or if you lie to us one of their heads will be cut off here in front of you." He turned to the sergeant again, "Start with the small redhead first." The sergeant drew his sword, pushed Piroska down to her knees, yanked her head back by grabbing a fist-full of hair and placed the sword to her throat. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Antal imploringly. "Wait!" Antal shouted. "I'll tell you whatever you want!" "Interesting," the Herceg said barely above a whisper. "We thought you might." "Your Grace, this is absurd," Minister Malaceck interjected. He had stood up and walked over to the line of Antal's women. "Certainly no man would tell the truth to simply save the lives of a bunch of worthless slaves. Although I will admit a few of them are comely." He reached out and squeezed one of Vrsula's breasts hard. "Maybe I will take this one to play with after this is all done. Or maybe this one," he said grabbing Katta by the chin and lifting it up. "Be careful, she bites," Antal cautioned. "Not a problem my good fellow," Malaceck chuckled quickly taking his hand back. "You merely have the teeth removed and the lips sewn shut. I'd probably just give her to my men. In that case it's unlikely she'd last long enough to starve to death anyway." "I will tell you everything!" Antal said quickly turning back to the Herceg. "Everything you want, but I have a condition." "A condition, how droll," the Herceg responded the smile having returned. "We are interested to discover what condition you might demand in this situation." "I want them safe," Antal said glancing at his line of women. "I want your word they will be safe and I will tell you everything I know. No lying, no equivocation and with as much detail as you desire. This I swear." "Interesting. You ask for their safety but not your own," the Herceg whispered. "You know we cannot free them; that is beyond even our power." "Your Grace! This is ridiculous! You can not be considering lowering yourself to honor the demands of a criminal!" the minister protested loudly. "Minister Malaceck," the Herceg replied firmly. "This is definitely not a matter of policy. It is our word to give as we see fit. We do not give it lightly but once given it will be honored." The Herceg paused for a moment and studied Antal. "Very well," he continued finally. "We will take your slaves into our household and there they will be treated no differently than any of the others we own. Does this satisfy your condition? Do you trust us?" "I do, Your Grace," Antal said lowering his eyes. "I have no choice." "Very well. Sergeant, let the little one up and escort all of them back to the women's quarters," the Herceg ordered. "It is our order they be secured and not accosted, by anyone." Antal noticed the minister frowned but didn't say anything. He was quietly talking with the Customs Master out of hearing. "Are we ready to get on with our little interview, Antal the Smuggler?" The Herceg asked lightly when the last of the women had left. "Yes, Your Grace," Antal sighed. "But I might recommend we do so in private," he added quietly. "Really?" the Herceg raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. "This gets more interesting all the time. Now why should we do that?" "Because, Your Grace," Antal replied, "what I have to say will be the whole truth but it may not be what you want to hear and I am sure it is not what some people would want you to hear." He pointedly did not look at the Customs Master. "Oh, secrets! We like secrets," the Herceg responded playfully. "We think we shall do this, Master Smuggler, but we warn you if you are trifling with us we will become annoyed, and if we become annoyed your women will suffer." "I truly believe you need to hear this privately," Antal shrugged. "But if afterwards you don't and are annoyed I hope you take it out on me and not on them." "We won't. We will subject them to our displeasure so are you sure you wish to speak to us privately?" the Herceg asked sharply. Antal paused for a minute and then nodded slowly. "Well then that's what we shall do." The Herceg stood up and turned to the minister and Customs Master. "My Lords, we wish to question the prisoner privately. Would you please excuse us?" "Your Grace, this is highly irregular!" Minister Malaceck protested. "Certainly you cannot be alone with this brute!" "When we said 'privately' we didn't mean without our captain and his guards, we assure you minister," the Herceg responded dryly. "We are young, not stupid." "Still I protest—" "Protest all you wish minister, this shall be as we decree," the Herceg waved. "Captain, clear the room." The guard captain turned to the minister, his toadies and the Customs Master but before he could do or say anything the minister had grabbed the Customs Master's arm and hustled him out the door. The guards closed and barred the door behind them. "Now, Master Smuggler," the Herceg turned back to Antal. "Tell me what you think is important. That was fun but it won't last long and you really don't want to get me angry. I'm interested now but I don't want to listen to any of your bullshit or your pretty little slaves will start losing their heads!" "Ah ... ah..." Antal started gasping like a fish out of water. "Yes, yes," the Herceg waved and sat down. "That we/our crap is court etiquette. I don't have the time or the tolerance for it right now. Just tell me what I need to know to break this siege of my port city!" "Ah, yes, Your Grace," Antal muttered. "But before I do I need to ask why are you trying to destroy Eregli? It doesn't make sense to me. Why cut off trade? Doesn't that hurt everyone, Corum included?" "I'm not trying to destroy Eregli, you nitwit!" the Herceg jumped up and yelled. "I'm trying to stop this flood of untaxed goods! You may not like taxes but someone has to pay for the services you demand to live in our cities. Who do you think pays for your protection? The harbors you make your living through? Everything we need to live as civilized people needs to be paid for and a damn good portion of that is through these port taxes. I can't believe a one in ten levy is too onerous to pay for our empire!" "It's not, Your Grace," Antal answered slowly. "Although it is one in five now," he pointed out. "When revenues decline we have to make it up somehow but that's not the issue," the Herceg said waving it off. "But it wouldn't matter if it were one in two since nobody is landing and offloading here anymore! It's all this smuggling! The regular shippers can't compete against untaxed goods and go elsewhere." "That's just not true, Your Grace," Antal shook his head. "Believe me, if the tax were only one in ten I couldn't compete; my boats aren't big enough. Smuggling hasn't choked off trade here. The only thing we've been able to do is bring enough in so the people of the city don't starve to death. I can and I will tell you about every smuggler, what type of boats he has and how much he can carry. All put together I'm guessing we couldn't fill two regular merchants with what we can carry. Eregli used to have dozens of these ships coming in every day! "It's not us that killed your trade; nor the one in ten you take for tax, it's the extra two or three in ten that the Customs Master takes on top of your tax that makes it unprofitable for anyone to trade here. It's been so bad here that a trading ship would actually lose money if it pulled into Eregli. Those masters aren't stupid; they'll just go where they can make a profit." "Are you telling me my Customs Master is charging two in five as tax?" the Herceg asked skeptically. "Lately, quite a bit more than that," Antal nodded. "If they don't like you or think they can get it, sometimes a lot more." "I don't believe you," the Herceg said flatly. "I don't know how you couldn't," Antal shrugged. "It's not exactly a secret. Every merchant on this coast knows how much it costs to ship through Eregli. Are the same amounts of goods still reaching Corum? Eskesehir? If there are, then I have to admit it must be coming from somewhere but I can tell you we're not bringing it in." "My agents haven't mentioned anything of this," the Herceg muttered sitting down. He looked suddenly and his eyes narrowed, "Yes, my agents. Yes, that is interesting... "I need proof," he demanded of Antal. "These are serious accusations and if they are true I need to know how the money is taken and where it's going. But how to prove it?" He slumped in his chair scowling. "That's easy, Your Grace," Antal said and the Herceg looked up with a start. "How?" "Just get a ship manned with people you trust, load it up with goods and sail it into port," Antal answered. "If I'm right, the proof will come out of the horse's ass about five minutes after they land." "Set a trap," the Herceg muttered. "An elegant solution but I see numerous problems. To begin with I have only twenty men here that I can trust: my captain and his guards. Then there would be obtaining a boat and I don't happen to have one under my bed. Do you, Captain Himake? I didn't think so and even if I were to find this boat where would I load it and with what? Oh yes, then there is the small problem I don't think any of them can sail. An excellent idea, my fine smuggler, but not very practical. There must be another way." "You send me with them," Antal said simply. "I mean you can keep me shackled most of the time since you don't trust me," he continued quickly when the Herceg gave him an incredulous look. "I know where we can get a boat cheaply; we'll load in Silifke and I can sail it. Get one of your younger men to pose as a merchantman's son out on his own for the first time. Sure his father wouldn't be stupid enough to pull into Eregli but a younger son out on his own for the first time ... Nobody looks past the uniform. I'll bet nobody in Customs would be able to recognize one of your guards. Besides, I know some tricks to make sure of that." "And have you sail off into the sunset with a few of my men and my gold?" the Herceg smiled. "I doubt they'd let me do that, Your Grace," Antal replied solemnly. "Besides, you hold what is dear to me hostage." "Indeed I do," the Herceg said softly and looked at Antal sternly for a few moments as if making up his mind. Suddenly he pounded the chair arm with his fist and smiled, "We'll do it!" "Captain Himake, send word to Minister Malaceck that I have become suddenly ill; must have been something I ate and I want no visitors. If he asks about the prisoner have them tell him he's been sent back down to the dungeon and I'll finish questioning him later. We'll take some gold out of the traveling money ... Smuggler, will twenty or thirty fingers be enough?" "You could buy the whole fucking city for that!" Antal gulped. "Then it should be enough," the Herceg nodded, smiled and then rubbed his hands together. "This should be fun! I hope my wives don't find out; they'd kill me!" Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 10 "I thought you were going to get a big boat!" the Herceg wailed and then leaned over the side to continue heaving his empty stomach into the wake. The two guards beside him were holding on for dear life to anything they could as the deck moved them up and down in choppy cadence. "I did, Your Grace," Antal chuckled from where he was chained to the tiller. "This is at least three times the size of mine." "When will this storm be over?" the Herceg groaned. "Oh, this isn't a storm, Your Grace," Antal replied happily. "Might get into one tomorrow on our way back but this is fairly calm for around here." "You're enjoying this," the Herceg accused. "Well, Your Grace, you're going to hang me when we get back," Antal grinned. "Can't I at least enjoy seeing you puke your guts out before you do?" "I'd hang you now if I could," came the pathetic reply. "Or hang myself just to stop this." "Actually you'll probably feel better before we even get to Silifke which will be soon. See that smudge on the horizon? That's Silifke," Antal told him. "A lot of lubbers feel a little queasy the first time they're out. But you do need to toughen up a bit so we can talk about who you're planning to have as the front man when we deal with the skimmers tomorrow. He'll need a disguise. We can buy that in Silifke but I need to know who it'll be so we can buy the right one." "It will be me," the Herceg answered without hesitation. "Unless for some reason you thought it would be you. I don't think so." "Not me," Antal shook his head. "I'm too well known. Can't say for certain the skimmer we meet will recognize me, but it's too much of a chance. Besides, I wouldn't want you to accuse me of leading the conversation towards a bribe; I want you to see that for yourself. "But just the same they may recognize you also," he continued. "Especially if it's the Customs Master himself that comes to shake you down. I noticed he was in the room back there when I was brought to you. Have to assume he'd know you to see you. "Unfortunately your bodyguards here are a little long in the tooth to be playing rich merchant's son out on his first trip alone. Hmm..." Antal paused and stared at the young Herceg. "This could work, though. I'm no expert on disguise but I do know people see what they want to see. Dress down in some good quality but worn clothes ... Maybe a wig under a seacap ... Dirty up the face a bit ... I think it could work. They certainly wouldn't be looking for you to be coming in on this piss-cutting teacup, that's for sure." "Then it's settled," the Herceg nodded. "You'll need to tell me enough to sound like I'm a young trader on my own for the first time." "That won't be hard," Antal replied. "The only thing they'll be looking at is your manifest, what's on the deck and how much is in your purse." As predicted they made Silifke two hours later which made it late afternoon. The long chains in Antal's wrist shackles were shortened so they were pressed directly together and he led them onto the docks in search of cargo and disguises. The young Herceg thought it amusing that nobody seemed to notice or care that a group of men were being led around by a shackled prisoner. In a surprisingly short time they had a cargo and everything else they needed for their deception. "We'll leave in the morning," Antal yawned as he settled back once again chained to the tiller. "Why can't we go now?" the Herceg demanded. "You're a smuggler; you're supposed to be able to sail at night." "I can," Antal replied moving around trying to make himself comfortable. "But you're not supposed to be one. Merchants in little coastal haulers like this don't usually travel at night so it would seem strange if we did. Add to that if we were unfortunate enough to find one of your patrols you'll be discovered and you won't have a chance to play-act the merchant prince. If they find you you'll never learn about the extra fees that are really the cause of your problems which would disappoint me greatly. "If we leave in the morning we'll get into Eregli just as it's getting dark which will be just about the perfect time for all of this." Then he chuckled, "Toughen up, Your Grace. Sleeping in the bottom of a boat isn't the worst thing that could happen to you." "Toughen up," the young Herceg muttered. "Maybe I like being pampered." But complaining aside, he found a semi-comfortable pile of cargo coverings and nestled in pulling his cloak over his face. ------- "Well, smuggler, at least you were right about the storm," the Herceg grumped as he stared into the churning waters ahead. The clouds had covered the sky when the on-watch bodyguard woke them but it wasn't until they had left the harbor that the rain began to beat down on them. "Will we be all right?" he asked nervously. "We'll be fine," Antal nodded with a snort. "We'll be wet and knocked around a bit, but other than that we'll be fine. I can't afford to get you killed now; you promised to look after my women. I assume your word is good?" he asked and then as an afterthought added, "Your Grace." "As good as I can make it," the Herceg shrugged. "I have no authority over the Powers and the interesting little twists they can throw into a man's path but aside from them and his Imperial Majesty I foresee no problem honoring your request." He sat down beside Antal seemingly unconcerned for his own safety next to the condemned smuggler although the captain of his guards did move a bit closer to the pair. "I must admit a bit of awe for you though," he continued. "Having six women at your beck and call sounds interesting but I'd think it would be mostly tiring. I have three wives myself, you know, and I'm continuously counseled to get more but honestly the three I have now keep me worn out; I can't imagine what having three more would be like. Do you really find time to use all of them? I'd think you'd have little time for anything else." "It does seem like that at times," Antal chuckled sadly. "I know they are considered just slaves but I'd like to think I treat them all as my wives. Honestly, I let them decide who goes where and when. That way they have no complaints, for me anyway, and it doesn't make it look like I have favorites." "Really?" the Herceg raised his eyebrows. "And just where did you acquire these interesting women?" "Ah, now there's a tale, Your Grace," Antal sighed and proceeded to tell the young Herceg about his childhood, his acquisition of Ilona, Barbala, Catalyn and finally what brought the three new ones and their babies to his household. "An amazing story, if true," the Herceg stated when he finished. "Oh, it's all true, Your Grace," Antal assured him. "You know, you don't seem particularly bitter or frightened by the fact you are condemned to die when we return," the Herceg commented changing the subject. "Well, I'm not looking forward to it I assure you, Your Grace. In fact if I could see any way out of it I certainly would but you gave your word to protect my women and if I have to give up my life for that..." Antal shrugged. "Yes, well that's very noble of you," the Herceg added absently staring out into the frothing waters. "I believed I mentioned I have three wives myself. Three wives before I've even reached eighteen and one of them pregnant. It seems a bit unreal to me at times," he mused and then glanced over to Antal and added with a seriousness that didn't reach his eyes, "Of course it's a lot of fun almost all the time." "Yes, well try it with six, Your Grace," Antal managed to chuckle. "It gets a bit more ... complicated." "I can imagine," the Herceg sighed. "Personally I think three is bordering on too many at times but I'm beginning to get pressure to add at least two more — to ensure the line, of course. I've resisted it so far but I'm not sure how long I can hold out and I dread the thought of going through that process again. Hundreds and hundreds of pretty young things doing their best to get my attention ... It sounds like fun initially but believe me, it begins to pale rather quickly." "So don't do it," Antal shrugged again. "And what am I to do then? Pick their names out of a hat?" the Herceg snorted. "Let your wives do it," Antal suggested. "After all they have to live with them also. I'll bet they'd work diligently to find women of compatible personality and being your wives they'll have your status and position firmly in mind so whoever they pick will undoubtedly be easy on the eyes and of desired birth. They will be picking based on who would be best for you and using their brains instead of just a cock." "That's actually not a bad idea at all, Master Smuggler," the Herceg turned to Antal, mildly surprised. "As with you, my birth mother is my first wife and I love her dearly. The other two are fine girls and I am very fond of them; I wouldn't be surprised if I came to love them in time as they will me, but mother ... Yes! She would know exactly who would fit in and who wouldn't ... Yes, by the Powers! An excellent idea! "After all," he continued. "I wouldn't know these girls from some stranger on the street so why should I care? But mother and the others ... they would know who to pick to maintain harmony." He paused for a moment, "Harmony is very important. I've seen first hand how disruptive adding the wrong woman to the household can be. My father's second most junior wife ... Well let's just say I considered her to be the biggest bitch I've ever met when I was younger, and having her around was extremely unpleasant. I was very glad when she turned out not to be my birth mother. Over the past two years I've come to see she isn't really as bad as I first thought; just the wrong woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't know who chose her but I can guarantee it wasn't my father's first wife. If she'd have been able to make those types of decisions, Dacina would never have been Mother Dacina and much heartache and trouble would have been avoided." "Nothing is guaranteed," Antal chuckled. "But if you let your women have a say in any decision, it makes it difficult for them to bitch about it later if it doesn't work out." "I am the Herceg," the young ruler replied with deliberate and feigned disdain. "Certainly you wouldn't infer that my wives would be so lowered as to bitch at me." "Well, Your Grace," Antal snorted. "I'm not much older than you and even I have learned that when it comes to women they have the natural ability to make your life a garden of pleasure or a pit of torment. I don't think it makes a Powers-be-damned bit of difference who you are." "There is that," the Herceg agreed philosophically. ------- Antal was a little surprised when they were intercepted by a patrol as they entered the mouth of the bay. He had thought the rough weather — still turbulent even within the protected confines of the bay — would keep the customs agents either in or at least closer to shore. Luckily he had hoisted the pennant indicating they were making for the customs docks and the patrol only hailed and directed them where to go without boarding. They were met at the dock by two portly customs agents who gleefully reviewed their manifest and checked it against the cargo secured to the deck of their small vessel. The poor weather was fortuitous since the two agents thought nothing of the young merchant and his "crew" wearing their long, heavily-waxed foul-weather cloaks with cowls up over their heads. Otherwise they might have wondered why the slight merchant seaman seemed a bit more burly around the chest area than one would expect or why they were wearing the short, wide-bladed swords normally associated with the Imperial infantry. That one had his hands shackled together probably wouldn't have caused much of a stir. "A fine cargo, young master," one agent smiled oily. "A fine cargo indeed. The duty fee comes to three fingers, gold. You can pay that in cash or we can take the equal out of the cargo, whichever you prefer." "Three fingers! That's absurd!" the Herceg howled. "My whole cargo couldn't be worth more than six fingers, maybe seven if the prices are very good. I can't afford one in two or even three in seven! I'll never make a profit. By the Powers I wouldn't even break even! I was told the duty was only one in ten or at worst one in five!" "Sorry, young master," the skimmer shrugged and chuckled. "I can't help what you've heard; this is what it is." "I won't pay it. This is robbery!" the young Herceg wailed. Antal was impressed by his young ruler's acting ability. If he hadn't known the truth he would have sworn this was a young merchant's son being exposed to the realities of life for the first time. "Well, that's a different kettle of fish as they say," the agent's voiced hardened and as he waved his arm a troop of city constables stepped out from behind the customs shack, hands already on the hilts of their swords. The Herceg's bodyguards stiffened and moved their own hands under their cloaks and Antal was pretty sure it wasn't to scratch their balls. "If you don't pay the duty, then we'll have to assume you're trying to smuggle this cargo in," the agent continued. "We have very harsh penalties for smuggling here: lethal penalties. And of course we'd have to confiscate the boat and the cargo." "You're trying to rob me!" the Herceg shouted loudly. "I demand to see the Customs Master! This is absurd! My father will hear of this, you can be sure!" "I can't think of anyone around here who would give a crap who your father is, puppy." The agent grinned and Antal smirked to himself thinking that it probably wouldn't be the case here. The agent looked over at his fellow and asked, "Think the Master will be in his office now?" "Should be," the other shrugged. "We can try. If nothing else it should be good for a laugh." "Very well, Master Merchantman," the first added with a satirical bow. "We'll take you to see the Customs Master. I'm sure he'll enjoy schooling you in the facts of life. You and you," he pointed at two of the constables. "Stay here and guard the boat. The rest of you come with us." "Shouldn't I leave one of my men here to watch my cargo?" the Herceg whined. Antal didn't think that was particularly smart until he realized it would have been expected and there wasn't much of a chance the agents would leave someone who could potentially escape and take one of the few cargos they had had in months with him. "It will be perfectly safe and I think it best if all of you come with us," the agent replied. The Herceg muttered but didn't voice his protest and as a group they all moved towards the Customs House. ------- "What's this all about, Crenslick?" the Customs Master asked from behind his large desk once they had been herded into his opulent office. His plump fingers were laced together and resting on his fat stomach. "This young master," Agent Crenslick pointed at the Herceg, "just arrived with some cargo and doesn't believe the duties I quoted him were fair or reasonable. He demanded to see you, so..." "And how is his cargo?" the Customs Master asked. "Fair," Crenslick shrugged. "Better than what we've been seeing." He left unsaid that anything was better than nothing which is what they had been seeing. "Hmm..." the Customs Master pondered. "And what duty did you quote him?" "Three fingers," Crenslick replied. "Total value of six, maybe seven if he's lucky." "I know for a fact the duty is no more than one in five," the Herceg interjected. "To demand three fingers is robbery!" "Well, three fingers does seem inaccurate," the Customs Master smiled and idly pushed some papers around on his desk while not even pretending to look at them. "Why yes, here is what is actually owed and you're right: It's not three fingers at all; it's four." "What?" the Herceg squeaked. "But the Empire only asks for one in five!" "Why that is true," the Master replied smoothly. "But then they have their expenses and we have ours. Would you like to make it five or maybe we should just confiscate the entire cargo and the boat as well? I'm sure there's contraband in there somewhere." "I'm sure there is, sir," Crenslick winked. "Does the Herceg know of this?" the Herceg demanded. "Doesn't matter if he does," the Customs Master chuckled. "We have our own protection close to the Herceg, very close. Where do you think most of these extra fees are going? I doubt the little dandy knows or cares and even if he does, he isn't the one who runs this Hercegant, anyway." "Oh? And just who does govern the Hercegant?" the Herceg asked quietly. "No need for you to know, youngster," the Customs Master chuckled. "Just be satisfied you will pay one way or another." "But we do think we need to know," the Herceg said sweeping his cowl back taking the seaman's hat and the wig it was holding down off his head. "Captain!" As one the guard captain and his men threw back their cloaks and drew their swords. A constable standing next to Antal started to draw and move toward the Herceg when Antal's elbow caught him under the chin flipping him over backwards where he landed with a thud on the hard floor. "Oops, he must have slipped," Antal mumbled. He looked up and saw the Herceg had what looked like a very fancy but very sharp and serviceable dagger pressed to the Customs Master's throat. "Clumsy of him," the Herceg intoned dryly without taking his eyes off the Customs Master. "Now we would very much like to know who is so close to our person that you believe is actually governing for the Herceg." "I can't! He would kill me," the Master squeaked. "He may; we will," the Herceg responded. "Your death is no long a matter of contention; the manner of your death still is." "Your Grace," one of the guards interrupted after sticking his head out into the outer office while his fellows bound and gagged the remaining constables. "There was one of the constables still out there and he took off running when he saw me." "Your Grace, we need to leave here immediately," the guard captain added. "He will be reporting to his master. We must get you to safety!" "And where would that be, Captain?" the Herceg asked mildly. "No matter ... You are correct. We will leave directly but first we must have the name of this person close to the Herceg." "I'll tell you nothing!" the Customs Master whined. "But we think you will," the Herceg smiled; the smile was on his lips but nowhere else. "We could start by cutting off one of your fingers for each question we ask and you don't answer but we think there may be a better way." The Customs Master looked relieved for a moment. "Instead we believe we will ask that fellow over there," he nodded towards Antal, "to see if he can pull them off one at a time. Do you recognize him? Antal the Smuggler? We understand he is rather strong and holds no love for you. We have heard he is very strong but we aren't sure if he is strong enough to actually separate a finger from a hand. It will be an interesting experiment and undoubtedly much more painful than merely cutting it off even if it turns out he can't really do it." "No, no!" the Customs Master groveled. "It is Malaceck! Minister Malaceck!" "Such was our guess," the Herceg whispered. "Captain, have this bound and gagged. We will pick him up later. It is time to leave." "Where are we going, Your Grace?" the captain asked once they had secured the constables and the Customs Master and had stepped out into the hallway of the Customs House. "It may be best if we try for one of the regular army units." "Correct me if I'm wrong, Captain," the Herceg replied. "Do not most of these regular units come from Malaceck's lands?" The captain paused and then nodded. "So we won't know if they're loyal to us or not. We need more troops. I think it would be best if we quickly make it back to the Government House and collect the rest of your men; then we can decide where to go." "If we move quickly," the captain reluctantly agreed. "I do know at least one unit is originally from the capital so they may be safe. I could send one of my men to try to contact them." "Do so," the Herceg nodded. "If he can find them and they seem loyal, have them move towards Government House. If nothing else, that could cause some confusion and assist in our escape." "If it really was Malaceck behind this, he can't afford to have you escape, Your Grace," the captain added ruefully. "Quite right, Captain," the Herceg said raising an eyebrow. "A dead Herceg would be much easier to explain than his corruption. We must see that we don't die prematurely if at all possible." "I can get you away," Antal interjected." "What?" the Captain started. "With a few extra men I think we can make it to the docks and I can get you away from there," Antal nodded. "But I want my ladies released before we try. If we can get them out of the Government House they should be fine until they can leave the city. Once they're on their own we can make our way to the docks. There may be a patrol or two to contend with, but once there I can get you away." The Herceg looked at him sternly for a moment and then nodded. "It's a plan, at least. We'll go with it now and see what comes up." The captain didn't look happy but nodded his assent. He muttered a few instructions to one of his men who took off at a dead run. "Now, how to get into Government House... ?" the Herceg mused. "Through the back, the kitchens," Antal recommended. "Another good thought," the Herceg commented. "It is unlikely Malaceck will be expecting us to go back there and will probably send most of his men to the gates out of the city. Do you know a way we can get there unobserved?" Antal shrugged and then nodded. Leading them out the back of the Customs House he took them on a roundabout path through narrow, filthy alleys to one that emptied out near the servants' entrance of the Government House. Peeking out, they spied two soldiers lounging near the doorway leering at the serving girls as they entered with baskets of food, clean linen and leaving with garbage. The captain nodded at his two remaining men and then jerked his head at the two next to the door. They nodded back, stripped off their cloaks leaving their uniform tunics and breastplates visible. Straightening up they marched out into the service street just like they had every right in the world to be there. The guards at the door noticed them right away and watched them but without a great deal of concern. When the two bodyguards came abreast of the guards they hailed them casually. When the two guards relaxed and returned the greeting they moved in quickly. One was subdued by a punch to the throat and the other by a jab to the stomach forcing him to double over, followed by a knee rising to meet the chin. The entire event lasted only seconds. "Not bad," Antal muttered. "The Herceg's guards aren't picked just for show," the captain replied proudly. The Herceg ignored them both. "Quickly," he said when his two guards had dragged the others inside and flashed the signal for them to follow. Racing inside and passing some very surprised servants, they stumbled up the back stairways until they came to a stop before the Herceg's doors guarded by two of his own men. "Your Grace!" they shouted, snapping to attention. "Open the door, you fools," the captain growled. "Go gather the others now — every one of them. I don't care if they're on duty or not! We're leaving as quickly as possible. Assume if someone is not one of ours, he's enemy. Now move it!" "Yes, sir!" "Where are my ladies, Your Grace?" Antal asked. The captain frowned but answered when the Herceg nodded. "Down the hall, third door on the left." Antal ran the way he was pointed counting doors as he went. The third one was shut and bolted but not padlocked. He threw back the bolt and pushed the door open and stepped in. His women were sitting around on pillows and pads looked up in apprehension until they realized who he was. "Antal! Antal!" they screamed and practically smothered him in a wave of female flesh. "You're alive," Ilona sobbed from somewhere under his chin. "You're free!" Katta shrieked. "You've come to rescue us!" "Rescue, I hope," he grinned. "Free ... Not so much," he added raising hands that were still shackled together. "I'll try to tell you as we go but we must leave now. Grab the babies and follow me as quietly as you can. We are not safe yet." He quickly went over the basics of the plan as they gathered what little they had. "Find Gyorgy, if you can," he said finally to Ilona. "You know where the coin is hidden back at the house. Get it and use what you need. If you can't find Gyorgy quickly, then get out of Eregli the best way you can and make your way to Sile. Someone there will know how to contact Gyorgy or one of my other men. They'll take care of you from there." "We heard you saved us but not yourself," she said holding onto his arm as they moved out into the hallway. "We can't allow you to do that!" "You don't have a choice," he answered gruffly. "There are other people to consider now," he said reaching down and rubbing the back of his hand across her slightly distended stomach. "My responsibility is to my children and to all of you. It is what it is, Ilona, and it must be this way." "Oh, Antal" she sobbed as they hurried along with a few straggling bodyguards towards the Herceg's quarters. The captain was gathering his men and briefing them as the Herceg was changing into some rich but serviceable traveling clothes. "Smuggler, are you ready?" the Herceg asked belting on a long, slim rapier. "I am, Your Grace," Antal nodded even as his women pressed in close to him all around. "But can we trust him, Your Grace?" the captain frowned after sending out two of his men as scouts. "After all he is still condemned to die. He could lead us into a trap as easily as away from one. Especially if his slaves are no longer with us." "True," the Herceg agreed. "Which is why I intend to commute his sentence if he is successful in smuggling us away from here. Does that sound fair, Antal, the Smuggler?" "And my crew," Antal demanded. "Very well, your crew also," the Herceg chuckled. "But only for past sins," he added. "That would be more than fair, Your Grace." The Herceg nodded. "Captain! Captain!" shouted the two scouts as they cam running back into the room. "Thirty, maybe forty men coming up the stairs right behind us! I swear I saw Minister Malaceck with them!" Edited by Morgan ------- Chapter 11 "Damn" hissed the captain. "Close and bar the door! We'll have to hold here and hope we have help on the way." The doors were shut, the bolts shot true and chairs wedged under the handles to provide extra support just as a great many fists and pommels began hammering on them. The bodyguards began forming up in ranks facing the door which had begun to show signs of weakening under the furious onslaught. "Your Grace, release me. I can help," Antal said holding up his shackled wrists. "You can use a sword, smuggler?" the Herceg asked lightly as he motioned for the captain to unlock the cuffs. The captain frowned but didn't dispute the silent order. "Not a sword, no," Antal grinned as he strode over to a brace of halberds fastened to the wall as decoration. Yanking on one, the bands fastening it to the wall popped off and the captain grunted. "But this will do just fine. Captain, may I borrow your sword for a moment?" The captain silently handed it to Antal who placed the bladed end on a table and swiftly swung down on the shaft just below the head. The sword chopped through the hard wood leaving him with a wooden rod two fingers thick and slightly longer than he was tall. Handing the sword back to the bemused guard captain he began twirling his miniature boat pole around getting its feel. "Yes, this will do just fine." "I might suggest, Captain," he continued, "that you and your men stand on either side of me while I stay directly in front of the door. That will keep them from spreading out once they get into the room." "They'll just run right over you!" the captain exclaimed. "I don't think so," Antal grinned. The captain shrugged and fanned his men out to either side of Antal while he stood directly behind and next to the Herceg. The door was solid and heavy and easily withstood the pounding; unfortunately the hinges holding it couldn't and soon one broke loose from the frame and almost immediately the others failed. The door crashed down but because of the chairs didn't lay flat. Instead it flipped up into sort of a ramp entering the room. It wasn't enough to hold the attackers back but it slowed them down and prevented more than five or six from entering at one time. As the first ones launched themselves over the ramp, Antal found himself seriously engaged with a number of heavily armed men doing their best to stick him like a pincushion. The fighting was artless as he parried a thrust here and slammed the pole against the side of a helmet here and jabbing the end into a breastplate there. Every once in a while he would note the flick of a slim blade striking out from around his back; sometimes catching an attacker in the eye, sometimes in the throat. Now and then the blade lashed out only to be deflected by Anton's wooden rod as he swung it but more often than not the strike was quick, precise and extremely deadly. To Antal it seemed as if the fight had gone on forever as he concentrated on the soldiers in front of him except when he heard the sound of the Herceg's voice from just over his shoulder. "Ah, Malaceck, I see you! You've lost, you know. Nothing will save your neck now, even if you do reach me!" "You insolent puppy!" Malaceck screamed. "You will die and the only thing the Emperor will know is that you were attacked by bandits and tragically lost!" "First you have to get me," the Herceg taunted. "I hope for your sake you brought more men; we appear to be using these up rather quickly!" That boast wasn't actually true. While Antal and the Herceg's men were holding their own and had done considerable damage to Malaceck's troops, the fact was they had taken a number of casualties of their own, were still outnumbered, and were tiring quickly. Although the din of battle in the room was intense, it wasn't long after the verbal sparring match that another sound could be heard, this time coming from the open doorway. The sounds of shouting men and the clank of metal on metal resonated into the room from the hallway as if directed through a funnel. "I believe our help has arrived," the Herceg shouted joyously to his captain. He wasn't the only one to arrive at that conclusion as Malaceck, frothing at the mouth while screaming at his men, darted looks back over his shoulder, eyes wide in terror. Finally he seemed to lose all reason and jumped up onto the door before charging towards the Herceg still tucked in behind the nearly exhausted Antal. Antal was still engaged with two of Malaceck's men when the minister pushed between them trying desperately to reach the young ruler. As the two soldiers stumbled apart Antal almost instinctively jabbed one end of his pole into the minister's middle causing him to double over while bringing the other end around to slam into the side of his unguarded head. Minister Malaceck's eyes rolled up in his head and he fell limply to the floor in front of the gasping, sweat-covered smuggler. "Hold!" the Herceg shouted. "Your master is down! Drop your weapons! If you continue, you will all die; if you continue you may yet live!" It didn't happen instantly but soon the sound of fighting lessened in the room and then stopped as Malaceck's men disengaged and then started backing away. That didn't last long however as the pounding of boots in the hallway could be heard only moments before a whole troop of bloody and fiery-eyed soldiers wearing regulation army uniforms and armor rushed into the room overwhelming the few remaining Malaceck troopers. "Your Grace, you are safe?" shouted their rescuers' officer. The bodyguard the captain had sent out earlier was standing by his side. "We are well," the Herceg assured him lightly pushing Antal aside as he stepped forward. He reached down and grabbed Minister Malaceck's hair and pulled up until he could see the face. "Pity, he's still alive," the Herceg murmured. "It would have been so much easier if he had died in the fighting." He glanced up at Antal, "The Emperor has such a difficult time deciding when there are two sides of a story to listen to. Certainly we wouldn't want to cause his Imperial Majesty any undue stress, now would we?" Still holding onto his hair, the Herceg squatted, set down his rapier and pulled out his dagger. With no hesitation he calmly drew it across the minister's throat watching the blood pour out onto the other bodies littered under him. The Herceg held onto the hair watching with interest as the minister's bubbling gasps slowed and finally stopped. "There. That makes things easier," the Herceg smiled and stood up letting the head flop back onto the floor. Ignoring the blood on his boots and the smell of piss and shit in the air, he looked at the oily residue from the minister's hair coating his hand and frowned saying, "Oh, that's disgusting." His hand moved as if to wipe the offending substance on his pants but changed his mind at the last second preferring not to soil his good trousers. The fact that they were already covered in flecks of blood and various visceral material seemed to have escaped his notice. Still frowning he began to look around for something to wipe his hands with when he felt a slight tug on his sleeve. Glancing down he saw the smuggler's little redheaded slave holding up a piece of cloth that might have once been a napkin from the dining table set back against the wall. His eyes arched in surprise and he smiled. "Ah, thank you, little one," he said taking the cloth and vigorously wiping away the glistening hair oil. "You're one of the smuggler's slaves, aren't you?" he continued with it being more of a statement than a question. Piroska nodded quickly and lowered her eyes. Reaching out the Herceg lifted her chin with two fingers and cocked his head as he studied her. "You are the one I threatened to have your head cut off first. I am not sorry I did that for it brought me what I needed, but I am sorry it frightened you. That was not my intention." Glancing up he noticed the smuggler was sitting in a chair obviously exhausted while his women cooed and fussed over the numerous minor wounds he had accumulated during the battle. Placing his hand on Piroska's back he gently guided her over to the rest of their group. "Well, Smuggler, I believe you have fulfilled your part of the bargain and have bought your pardon," the Herceg announced. "You didn't get us out of here but without you it would have been a close thing as to whether or not we would have survived until help arrived." "I agree," the Herceg's captain interjected. He had stepped over to the Herceg's side while still watching the soldiers treating the wounded bodyguards, killing Malaceck's more severely wounded troops and starting the removal of the bodies. "I wouldn't say we couldn't have held, but it would have been a closer business than it already was. My thanks, Smuggler," he stuck his hand out for Antal to grasp. "I suppose that's ex-smuggler now," Antal snorted taking the offered hand. "I'm assuming what with His Grace knowing about the extra duties that will be taken care of and trade will be getting back to the way it used to be sooner or later. I've got too many mouths to feed for smuggling to pay under those circumstances. I guess I'll have to find a real job soon." "Indeed," the Herceg intoned with just a hint of a smile on his lips. "If you will remember, the pardon was for past crimes only. But I have a few ideas that may suit your abilities. I believe I have need of your unique skills and therefore decline to release you from service to the Empire. Go home now and rest but return tomorrow at mid-afternoon at which time I will instruct you on your new duties. "Honestly, I would also like to hear more of your perspective on trade and how to restore it. But that is for tomorrow. Tonight and tomorrow morning we will begin putting our own house in order including ferreting out the depth and reach of the corruption Malaceck has been involved in." "Do you think that is wise, Your Grace?" the captain asked as the Herceg turned to leave. "Letting him go home, that is. We may never see him again." "He'll be back," the Herceg waved without turning around. "He has nothing to lose and everything to gain." He did stop then and glanced back over his shoulder looking pointedly at Antal. "I intend to be a demanding and stern employer but even more so I intend to be a fearsome enemy. Life in my service may be difficult and arduous but life opposing me will be short and painful." "I understand completely, Your Grace," Antal nodded. "Yes, I expect you do," the Herceg nodded and then turned striding away calmly dictating orders to a swarm of city government clerks and mid-level bureaucrats that had appeared as if by magic only moments after the battles ended. They simpered and groveled in his wake although he appeared to pay them no mind once his orders had been issued. "Well, I guess we can go home now," Antal said, slightly stunned. ------- Antal woke mid-morning the next day under a pile of naked female flesh which he thought was much preferable to that of a hard slab in a dungeon cell and being unable to move due to numerous thighs, legs, breasts and arms much, much better than shackles. He would have been more than content to remain in bed ensconced in this delightful wrapping of soft flesh but the pressure in his bladder made that impossible. With muted groans from himself and mumbled complaints from more than a few of his bed companions, he slowly extricated himself and took care of the morning necessities. On his way back he briefly debated whether to return to bed or head to the kitchen and grab something to eat; the hole in his stomach won by a small margin. As he entered the kitchen he found Vrsula and Katta already there starting the preparations for breakfast. "Oh, Master!" Katta squealed running over to wrap her arms around him. "We were so afraid," she mumbled into his chest. Vrsula moved more sedately over to him but when she arrived she uncharacteristically pulled his chin around firmly and attacked his mouth with her lips and tongue. "Have you told him?" Katta asked looking up at Vrsula. "When have I had time?" Vrsula answered in her lilting voice. "Was there any time he didn't have a tit in his mouth or his cock in somebody's cunt since we got back?" "No, thank the Powers!" Katta grinned. "What do you need to tell me?" Antal asked as he gently groped both women through their light shifts. "Your family is on the increase again," Vrsula smiled and moved his hand from her ass to her flat stomach. "Well sometimes when you play with fire you get burned," Antal grinned and then looked at Vrsula more seriously. "Does it bother you? I know Dorottya wasn't exactly wanted." "Dorottya is a blessing," Vrsula answered reaching up to caress his chin. "The manner of her being forced on me was not, but she is. This one," she said placing her hand over his, "will be both." "I'm glad," he smiled and leaned over to give her a gentle kiss. "Didn't you two sluts get enough last night?" Catalyn demanded from the doorway. "No," Vrsula laughed. "Never!" Katta giggled and hugged him even tighter. "Well, you will have to wait until tonight," Ilona announced walking in behind Catalyn. She was followed by Barbala and Piroska. "Right now I'm willing to bet our master is hungry as a bear and doesn't need his cock measured any more than it already has been." Katta jerked her hand back from when she had been stroking him through his linen underclothes. "Yes, Ilona," they both answered turning back to what they had been doing before, although there was an exaggerated swing to their hips as they sauntered away. "Sluts," Catalyn sniffed at their antics. "That's the pot calling the kettle black," Barbala chuckled. "Little Miss Greedy-gobbler. If we didn't outnumber you five to one, none of us would have had a turn last night. It's hard to get properly fucked when someone's mouth is covering the master's cock all the time." "I made sure he planted his seed where it was supposed to be," Catalyn protested holding her hand over her crotch just to make sure her meaning was clear. "It's not fair! I should have been next," she pouted. "Your time will come," Barbala laughed and put her arm around her daughter. "Probably more times than you'd ever wished. Give it time; you are still very young." "It's still not fair," Catalyn grumped. "Piroska's going to be a grandmother before I even get my first one." "I doubt that," Ilona laughed. "Now let's eat." "Ah, that feels good," Antal sighed leaning back in his chair with Piroska curled up in his lap in her accustomed place holding baby Zsotia to her breast. "Coming back from the dead has a remarkable way of reminding a person what is really important." "Enough food for three men and enough pussy for six," Katta added from where she was sitting. "Exactly," Antal agreed absently stroking Piroska's hair with one hand while tickling the baby with the other. Zsotia gurgled and looked up at him letting milk spill out of her mouth. Piroska looked up at him and proudly cupped her breast which was noticeably larger than it had been when he had first found her. "Yes, they are getting huge, little one," Anton chuckled. "Pretty soon you'll be able to feed all the babies by yourself." She grinned and nodded vigorously arching her back as if to offer her nipple to Antal. "You finish feeding Zsotia first," Antal told her. "Then I'll take a taste of what's left; I'm sure it's as sweet as honey." Piroska blushed and hurriedly held the baby against her breast where she began suckling again. "You keep getting us pregnant and you'll be able to start a dairy soon," Ilona remarked. "Well, I suppose I could stop fucking all of you but I think I'd rather have the dairy," Antal replied. "Besides I'm going to need a real job soon. You heard what the Herceg said: 'Past sins' are forgiven but not future ones.' Unless you haven't noticed, he scares the crap out of me; he's as smart as I've ever seen and ruthless as a snake. If he caught me smuggling again I'd be lucky to end up on the wrong end of a rope! "No," he continued, "I need to find something else to do." "It sounded like His Grace already has something planned for you," Ilona mused. "Do you have any idea what it might be?" "Not really," Antal sighed. "But I'm afraid he might want to make me a customs agent. Now there would be a fine turn of the worm wouldn't it?" "Set a thief to catch a thief?" she answered with raised eyebrows. "That actually makes sense. You wouldn't tell him 'no', would you?" "I think everything His Grace does will sooner or later make sense even if we can't see it at first," Antal said shaking his head. "And saying no to His Grace isn't an option. I get the feeling he may ask for opinions from his underlings now and then but once he's made up his mind and tells you to be a frog and jump, the only question you can ask then is, 'How high?' "I also get the feeling that, as far as one Antal the Smuggler is concerned, the decision has already been made and this afternoon I go to find out how high I need to jump." ------- Antal was quickly shown to the Herceg's rooms when he reported to the desk newly relocated just inside the door to Government House. He noted with some amusement the hurrying and bustle of the clerks and bureaucrats scurrying in and out of various offices as opposed to the slovenly apathy that had always been the norm when he had visited before. He was checked for weapons by the same guard who had checked his shackles just days before when he was brought to these same rooms and passed while two carpenters worked on remounting the doors. The Herceg was seated at a desk reading a paper in front of him while at the same time listening to an army officer standing next to him. Hearing Antal's footsteps approaching, he looked up and waved the officer to silence. "Thank you, Lieutenant," the Herceg said softly. "You can finish your report later. Antal, walk with me." Standing up he strolled towards the doors leading to the balcony overlooking the city and the bay. Antal hurried up catch up and was followed by two bodyguards in full armor and dress uniforms. When he had finally caught up to the Herceg he found the young ruler leaning against the railing looking out over the bay. "Your Grace," Antal bowed when he was standing near him. "Call me Cezar when we're alone, Antal," the Herceg said not looking at him. "I couldn't, Your Grace!" Antal protested. "As a favor to me," the Herceg turned and smiled at him. This time the smile actually seemed to reach his eyes, barely. "I could hardly refuse could I, your Gr— Cezar?" Antal stuttered. "I knew you were a quick learner, Antal." The smile broadened slightly. "You are probably wondering why I brought you here." "You're going to make me a customs agent," Antal answered deadpan. "With what I know about who, how and what is being smuggled you believe I can cut the smuggling down to almost nothing and you're probably right." "Quick and intelligent," the smile broadened. "I just knew this would work. You are almost exactly correct. However I have no intention in making you a customs agent. I have made you the Customs Master." "What!" Antal shouted as his jaw dropped open and he forgot to breathe for a moment. "But ... but ... but..." "Your task will be to increase trade through Eregli and maximize our long-term sustainable revenues from that trade," the Herceg continued ignoring Antal's blubbering. "You will move into the old Customs Master's house right away and begin immediately; he won't need it any longer." He gazed over the railing into the courtyard and Antal's eyes followed. Antal immediately noticed the fat, bloated corpse in the Customs Service uniform slowly turning below on the gallows. "Ah, yes, Your Grace," Antal rasped out. "You will have complete freedom to hire whom you want and do what you will to achieve what I have given you," the Herceg continued. "I expect results and will be very disappointed if you don't accomplish them. "Technically you will report to the city's governor, that fat useless creature! If I could, I'd have him removed in an instant but he's my cousin, which of course makes him a cousin of the Emperor also and it was the Emperor himself who appointed him, through Malaceck, of course. Someday soon I will be established firmly enough to have him retired and replaced with someone who actually has a brain. Until then, speak nicely to him and send him rich food and little boys to play with; otherwise ignore him; you will be reporting to me in actuality." "I fully understand, Your Grace," Antal answered ruefully. "Cezar, please," the Herceg smiled even more. "And no need to thank me." "I won't, believe me," Antal muttered. "Cezar." For the first time Antal heard the Herceg truly laugh. Edited by Morgan ------- The End ------- Posted: 2010-01-02 Last Modified: 2010-01-12 / 09:25:13 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------