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The Sky God's Offering (Warchief & Rapedoll)

Where was Osric going? Surely he wasn't going to leave her hear? She started to get up to run after Osric when the warchief's voice stopped her cold. Shocked at hearing this savage speaking in her language she turned around to face him, her mouth gaped in surprise.

From the Warchief she got a sense of malicious and evil. The way he looked at her, it felt like he was molesting her with his eyes. Giving her the feeling of being dirty and soiled.

With her deep blue eyes imploring up at him she ask, her voice frightened and shaky, "Where am I?"
 
Though Elise had been brought into a place where she was not welcome, there was little point in rushing her out now that the curse had already been invoked. Rushing her back out of the hall would not save the tribe so it was important that the warchief retain his composure and continue on with the judgment ceremonies as he normally would, lest he lose face in the eyes of the feast attendees. The small blonde girl would suffer far more demeaning fates that simply being molested by someone’s eyes by the end of judgment.

“Village name, Ussura,” the barbarian warchief spoke in his broken Castilian dialect as he spread his arms out as though he were presenting the village for the small girl to see. “Ussura great village; mighty rulers over lesser mountain tribes. Invaders fear Ussura. Ussura take invaders; make invaders slaves of tribe.”

The whispers that had been spreading through the crowd grew in volume as their warchief spoke to an outsider in their twisted demon tongue. It was something that Eirik had learned to do when he was younger from one of the forest barbarians who had sought refuge from the invaders among the stronger mountain barbarians. This ability, still very rare among the mountain tribes, was one of the reasons that Eirik’s father had selected his son as his successor. Negotiations, even among the savage mountain tribes, were always the first course of action and only the warchief could make decrees on the tribe’s behalf with outsiders. The ‘demon tongue’ was a great gift in the mouth of a warchief.

Once he’d finished speaking, Eirik moved a few steps toward the girl whom was kneeling where Osric had left her. She was still a few feet from him, just out of his reach which meant that she was still about as safe as she was going to get. Once the barbarian reached his desired distance from her, however, he began to move around her, circling around behind Elise.
 
Still shivering, even though the inside of the great hall was warm she watched as the Warchief paced around her studying her up and down.
"Invader?" she said, " Well i'm not invader. As a matter of fact i had an accident when .. errr.. ahh your big friend there found me. And i would be ever so greatfull if you could help me get back to my village." She said with a mixture of innocence and nativity.

Noticing how dark the mood in the room had grown.. Everybody was quiet, all eyes turned in there direction. She thought it funny that one little girl could cause this much tension. Nobody made a sound as the all watched to see what there leader was going to do.
 
The barbarian warchief moved around Elise and stopped when he was situated directly behind her. Even on her knees, it was quite clear that the golden-haired girl was much smaller than most of the other women from the invading clans. She had to be fairly young but her budding breasts marked her as a maturing child-bearer. She could become very useful to the clan as a breeder but the warchief could not afford to overlook the curse that she had brought with her into the hall. If he gave her such an honored position among the clan then the elders and the shaman would never accept him as their warchief and he would lose most of his favor among the other clansmen. For these reasons, Eirik could not enslave her as a breeder and she was too small to work the fields. There was only one way to appease the tribe and lift the curse.

“Shadows cloud overhead, child of invaders,” the barbarian spoke as he reached out and grabbed a handful of those long golden locks. Once he had a good hold upon her hair, he began to pull upwards, attempting to drag Elise back to her feet by her hair if she did not move to stand with his pull. “Osric brings child here. Here sacred hall of feasting; outsiders not welcome. Child of invaders brings curse here. Curse will destroy tribe. Only Magni save tribe. Child of invaders gift for Magni; Magni bless tribe.”

When the warchief uttered the word ‘Magni’, the feasting hall erupted into cheers. Though the denizens of the hall could not understand what it was that their warchief and the young invader were speaking of, it was clear that ‘Magni’ held some kind of significance here. Apparently, hearing his name uttered in reference to the girl brought the savages a great deal of satisfaction.
 
"No! No! Noooo!" She screamed reaching around trying to pry his hands out of her hair. Her scalp burned and felt like he was going to pull her hair out of her head.
"I am not an Invader! I'm here by accident!" But there seemed no reasoning with this savage. Twisting and turning trying to brake away from his iron grip he had of her hair.

A feeling of dread washed over her when she heard the people cheering. Whoever this Magni or what ever his name was didn't sound like a good omen for Elise.
 
The great hall erupted with another wave of cheers accompanied by laughter when the little blonde girl began to thrash and scream in a vain attempt to get herself away from the warchief. Many Castilian women before her had struggled against the judgment that had been delivered unto them by the mountain barbarians of Ussura. The barbarians had come to welcome a slave with some fire in their belly. A lively slave would not break down and cry easily when their bodies were strained and pushed to the limit. A lively slave would push forward no matter what was done to them in the hopes that they might actually be rescued.

Eirik’s grip on the little blonde girl’s hair was like a vice and it didn’t loosen up no matter how much she squirmed or how hard she thrashed. With that iron hold on Elise’s locks, the warchief began to walk back toward his chair, dragging her along with him. He was, by no sense of the word, gentle as he tugged the girl over to the wooden and bone throne. It was only a few steps but the way that he jerked on her scalp with each step and movement of his arm could have made those few steps feel like so much more. While breeders were respected and care for, the humane treatment of other kinds of slaves was not something that the mountain barbarians were known for and until the next full moon, that is exactly what this girl would be; a pleasure slave.

When the warchief had moved over to his throne with Elise in tow, willing or not, he turned to face the congregation of the mead hall. Eirik thrust his free hand into the air while he jerked Elise over to stand in front of him as though he were showing her off like some kind of trophy. “Kona tavig blota Magni,” he bellowed so loudly that the very air in the hall seemed to resonate from the sound of his voice.

Eirik had announced to the crowded hall that Elise was to be offered as a sacrifice to the Father of the Heavens. The reason for this did not even need to be stated to the tribe; it was something that even Osric could have put together. Elise had desecrated the great hall and brought a curse down upon Ussura. Since it was she who carried with her the outsider’s curse, it would be she who was sacrificed to Magni so that the tribe may earn his blessing. The tribe would need to wait for the next full moon, however, which gave Eirik a full month to train this young girl in the arts of pleasure. A virgin with no knowledge of how to satisfy a mortal man would be of no use to an all-powerful immortal god.
 
First the accident with the carriage. Then her parents getting killed or seriously injured in the accident, although she strongly suspected the former. Coming face to face with that huge giant of a savage Osric, him picking her up and bringing her to this mountain top hell. Each time she kept telling herself it couldn't get any worse, but each time her world went spinning more out of control. She felt like she just got plunged into some kind of hell.

And judging by the way this warchief was grabbing at her, pulling her hair, and the looks of the people standing around. They weren't exactly being hospitable. She got the feeling they weren't going to be letting her go anytime soon.

Here she was, a small 14 year old girl in a hostile land, being put on display as Eirik held her out for all to see. Terrified she tried to fight back the tears both of fright and pain at the way she was having her hair pulled. Her eyes scanning the crowed to see if she could see even one face that looked like it might be friendly. She didn't understand why, but it seemed like everybody in the entire hall was angry at her. There where questions that Elsie wanted to ask, but was to fearful to pose.

Her eyes stung and filled, swelling with tears until one fell..
Her breath hitched and she let out a soft cry that only those standing up towards the front would have heard.
 
With his judgment of the little invader girl issued, Warchief Eirik sat himself calmly down onto his throne with his legs spread. He used his vice-like hold upon Elise’s long golden hair to pull her over between his legs and turn her to look at him. His brown, nearly black eyes glared into her gentle blue orbs which were swelling with tears and a twisted smirk slid across his lips in satisfaction at her anguish. Slowly, the savage leaned forward, closing the distance between his face and the little girl’s. If she tried to pull away, Eirik’s hold upon her hair would keep her from doing so. In a sick display of amusement, the warchief pressed his tongue against the invader girl’s cheek and licked along where that single tear had fallen.

“Speak name,” the barbarian growled into the little girl’s ear once he had licked her. As he awaited his answer, the barbarian slowly leaned back into his throne. His left arm rested on the armrest of his throne while his right kept its firm hold upon those blonde locks. Clearly, the barbarian had found an effective way of controlling the little invader girl and he didn’t seem like he was going to release her until he was good and ready. Elise’s scalp was sure to be sore in the morning if she even lived that long.

Beneath his cloth and fur kilt, Eirik’s body was reacting to the amusement and the satisfaction that he was receiving from tugging this little girl around by her hair. Though she was still clearly young, her budding breasts marked her body as ready to receive a mate; at least that is how the acts of physical pleasure were viewed in the savage lands of Eisen’s natives. In their society, all that was required for women to be socially acceptable as a pleasure slave or a mating partner was that her bodies show signs of maturing. Elise was just as ‘legal’ in this world as her mother would have been.
 
Scrunching her face and squeezing her eyes shut.. her repulsion written all over her face as the savage licked the tear from her check.. His tongue felt wet and slimy leaving a trail of wet saliva down her face. Although, she was still trying to lean back out of the savages grip, her efforts where in vain with his vice like grip.


"Elise" She gasped .. her voice laced with horror. And if Elise was horrified by the warchief licking her, then it was a good thing she had her eyes closed so she couldn't see how his body was reacting to her distress.
 
By now, most of the great hall’s congregation had returned to their feasting and drinking. The dancers had resumed dancing and the serving wenches had returned to carrying flagons of mead to refill the steins of the warriors. Though most had returned to their celebrations, some still watched with amusement as their warchief prepared to make use of the little invader girl whom Osric the Berserker had foolishly carried into the great hall. Elise would learn that there was no shame in the savage lands of the mountain barbarians. If the chief were so inclined to march across the room, bend one of the dancers over the feasting table itself, and have his way with her then and there, most of the hall would not bat an eye; quite the contrary, really. To be selected by the warchief himself to serve him in the pleasures of the flesh would bring the envy of the other dancers, the serving wenches, and the female warriors who caught sight of them.

Of course, the barbarians knew that these frail women from the invading clans did not view the pleasures of the flesh in such a free view. They were quite conservative with their bodies for the longest time even after they are enslaved by the tribe and used freely by all of the males as breeders. More than that, they knew that only the most matured of their women were considered to be acceptable partners for such acts which meant that this little golden-haired girl would not be viewed as a woman in her home clan in Castille. In Castille, she would still be considered a child and she would have never been permitted to participate in such acts. This is why the warchief was going to make her serve him here and now. He would need the entire month to train her and turn her into a woman worthy of serving the Father of the Heavens.

Suddenly, the tension in Elise’s hair went slack. The barbarian had not released her hair but he had given her enough slack to move a little at least, which meant that maybe her scalp could stop stinging quite as harshly. Of course, if Elise had thought for a second that she was catching a break then she was going to be sorely disappointed. Moments after her hair went slack, she would be able to feel the savages hand resting on top of her head and pressing down with a bit of pressure.

“On knees,” the barbarian commanded as he pressed down on the little girl’s head. With her position between his knees, lowering herself to her knees would mean that she would be looking directly up the barbarian man’s kilt and barbarians weren’t known for wearing decencies such as undergarments. It was a good thing that the girl had her eyes closed.
 
As stated, where as the woman of this barbarian tribe might consider the attentions of the warchief as an honor .. to the small innocent 14 year old his attentions where most unwelcome. Her face scrunched with disgust left little doubt of her true feelings about the savage who was now requesting her to kneel before him. Not just kneel before him.. but to kneel between his two powerful thighs.

Stunned into silence by the warchief and to intimidated to speak she let him push her to her knees. What was these peoples interest in her, what where there intentions? These where the questions she asked herself as she got to her knees.

Humiliated, a flush flashed through her cheeks, while she still kept her eyes tightly closed waiting for farther instructions.
 
From the Castilian girl’s new position, knelt between the barbarian chief’s thighs, she would have a full view of his now fully erect manhood if she were to open her eyes. Beneath the warchief’s cloth and fur kilt was a throbbing member that would have shamed many of the men from Castille; every bit of eight to nine inches in length with a girth that reflected his muscled form. As if that wouldn’t have been a frightening concept to the young girl, the large barbarian’s groin and scrotum were covered in short, thick fur leaving only his member itself bald.

The barbarians had been rumored to be ‘hung like horses’ in the brothels and other lesser places of Castille and while this was a bit of an exaggeration, the barbarians were certainly bigger men than their smaller and frailer cousins from across the sea. The aspect of such brutishly large men with frighteningly large members seemed like a frightful tale to much of Castille but the women whom were less-than-savory among Castille’s higher class and strong-moraled working class swooned over the idea. Perhaps it was the early signs of widespread sexual deviancy settling in over the once pure kingdom.

“Open eyes. Get to work,” Eirik commanded as his hand slid around to the back of Elise’s head and grabbed ahold of her long blonde hair again so that she could not run or pull away. It had been quite some time since the warchief had found the time to sit down and really enjoy himself with all of the new duties that had been thrust upon him. For the next month, however, enjoying this girl and forcing her to learn how to please a man was his duty. Appeasing Magni and earning his blessing was the most important thing that the tribe could do now.
 
Opening her eyes, Elise almost fainted at the sight before her. She had never seen a mans penis, and now the huge bulbous head of this savage's cock was right in front of her innocent 14 year old eyes. She let out a scream of utter horror at the sight, to her it couldn't be more scary if it where a giant monster, and right now that's exactly what it looked like to the poor girl.

Elise might have been small compared to this huge barbarian.. Much like a kitten would be to a grown lion. But like a kitten at that moment she was every bit all claws as she scratched at the huge man that held her.. Her god awful screams filled the room as she fought with all her tiny might to get away from the brute and his monster of a cock. Her tiny hands going out in defense .. hitting, scratching and blindly pulling on anything and everything that was with in clawing distance.. including but not limited to the mans cock and balls.
 
Elise wouldn’t have been the first invader slave to have tried fighting back to defend herself from being used, abused, molested, and raped by the barbarians of the mountain tribes and the warchief had been ready to deal with her. The moment that the girl began to thrash, she was being lifted off of the ground and into the air by her long golden hair. In that same moment, the barbarian warchief stood up from his throne and moved his arm as far out away from his body as he could, putting himself out of the little girl’s reach; save for his hand, of course. The crowd in the great hall erupted in a surge of cheers again at Elise's position.

In the blink of an eye, Elise had made her situation even worse. She was now being suspended in the air by nothing more than her hair. If that weren’t bad enough, all of the eyes in the hall were again upon her and the barbarian warchief. No matter how much she thrashed or how much she screamed, Eirik did not loosen his hold upon her silky golden strands. No matter how much she scratched at his hand, he just stood there glaring at her and shaking her by the hair that held her off of the ground. It would seem that while Osric preferred not to press the little mouse into a struggle, the warchief reveled in making mice fight back so that he could cast down the rebellion with an iron fist.

“Elise follow orders,” the warchief bellowed at the little girl while he shook her vigorously by her soft blonde hair. The crowd erupted in another wave of cheers and chants as Elise wash shaken like she was some little rag doll; a toy for the tribes amusement. Then again, that assessment wasn’t too far off. A toy was exactly what she was. She would be tried and tested over the next month to ensure her quality and skill.
 
At first kicking and screaming when she was lifted off the ground. Once she had exhausted herself she hung like a limp doll in his grip. Her eyes met his gaze with hatred.
" You.. You better let me go.. Or.. or my village will send there army for me."
She was bluffing of course, for she was sure that nobody would be able to find her way up here in these mountains. And even if they where to find her, she was sure that it would be much to late for them to help her.
 
Elise’s gaze of hatred was met with the barbarian’s own dark stare filled with anger. Though many before this girl had been foolish enough to put up resistance, the warchief had never seen such fire come from an invader so young. If you chipped away the anger, you would find that he was thrilled to see that this girl had spirit. Such a fiery spirit meant that Magni would be more likely to be pleased with her as an offering which, in his eyes, would decide the fate of his tribe. Of course, that spirit would need to be broken before she could be trained. Eirik could only hope that this girl’s resolve was also strong and that she would be able to rebuild that spirit once he had shattered it.

“Let them come,” the barbarian bellowed in the girl’s face before he held her up even higher, presenting her to the entire congregation. “Gah Kona’s siltegen vill oroque eme. Herlio drepa Ussura,” he continued which brought another wave of cheers and toast to the crowd. To count, three assaults had been made upon Ussura by the invaders of the nearest Castilian settlement. All three had resulted in the death or capture of the entire invading force in exchange for a total of five Ussurian fatalities between all three attacks. In these mountains, the barbarian tribes reigned supreme. In addition to the barbarians being larger, stronger, and hardier, the Castilian soldiers just weren’t accustomed to fighting in this terrain.
 
By now Elise's scalp felt like it was on fire. Never in her short life had she been treated so cruelly. She didn't know what to say or offer these savages to make then let her go. But surely, there had to be a way out of this nightmare. She was sure she was of no use to these savages .. What could the possibly want with a small girl like herself?

She tried to hide her fears.. but she couldn't stop trembling in the big mans presents. She ached to feel her fathers arms about her, to feel her arms about him, the beating of his heart against hers, and the sadness decended once more, as dark as night. Then she thought about Logan and the life she thought she would have. She was surprised to find herself missing him, not just missing him but morning him as if he where already dead.

She flinched , snapped out of her reprieve when again the room broke into a loud roar of laughter and cheers.
"What do you intend to do with me?" She asked the Warchief, cause it seemed like she was the only one in the room that didn't know what was happening.
 
The warchief lowered the girl back down so that she would be on eye level with him again, still leaving her dangling from his fist with her feet a good foot off of the ground. His eyes darted back to hers and a twisted grin slid across his lips when he saw the pain, the anguish, and the concern written in her soft blue eyes and on her pretty little face. Elise was held there for a moment before she was finally set back on the ground, the warchief following by sitting back down onto his throne. Using the girl’s hair as a handle, Eirik guided the little blonde back into position between his thighs though he didn’t force her back to her knees just yet.

“Eirik train Elise. Elise new slave to Ussura,” the warchief stated flatly as he met her glare with his own. Surely at fourteen, Elise would know about sex to a certain extent. She had been arranged to be married so her mother would have most assuredly been preparing her for the duties that she would be expected to take on for her husband when they were wed. She would know of her own body and the body of a man. She would know of the acts of reproductive sex but not of recreational sex. Oral sex, anal sex, and other means of non-vaginal acts were highly frowned upon in the lands of Castille.

This time when the chief returned to his throne, the eyes of the crowd did not return to their feast so quickly. The crowd was more interested in what their warchief was doing than the dancers which was convenient considering that most of the dancers were interested in the show themselves. If Elise had just done as she was told them maybe she would have gotten out of there with some tiny shred of dignity but now she would assuredly still be made to do what the chief wanted with the whole crowd watching her. She had become the life of the party thanks to her little outburst.
 
With the impudence of a child, she stomped her foot and cross her arms over her chest.
"I am not a slave, nor will I be!"
Even though the Warchief still had her by the hair, she was still able to lift her head up and stick out her chin in defiance . She was as offended at the warchief's implication of her being a slave as she was offended by her treatment. Elise's pride wouldn't let her bow down before this savage as she tried to keep a brave front despite her fears.
 
The warchief snarled at the little blonde when she offered him that childish resistance. His free arm pulled back and his hand balled into a fist as he prepared to strike the little girl. The crowd behind Elise erupted into yet another roar of cheers when they saw that their warchief was about to destroy this little girl’s face. These people, for whatever reason, seemed to be getting far too much enjoyment out of the suffering of a small child than they should have been; even for savages. This was her fate now that Osric had absent-mindedly bought her into the hall.

The warchief did not finish his strike, however. His eyes were looking past Elise now and out through the hall which had fallen deathly silent except for the sounds of one lone figure against the floorboards as it approached the throne. With this bestial man’s hand locked in her hair like it was, it would have been impossible for Elise to turn and see whom it was approaching them though it couldn’t have been good if the figure had grabbed the warchief’s attention and killed the cheers could it?

The figure that had caused the sudden change in mood was Temujin the Wild. Temujin was a tall woman, standing inch for inch in height with the warchief but her frame was much smaller than the other mountain barbarians, even for a woman. This was because she was not a mountain pureblood. Her father had been of the mountain tribe but her mother had come from the forests below; a refugee from Castille’s expansion. Her hair was also not the typical brown of the mountain tribe’s warriors but was a rich, ravel black. It was styled in a traditional forest tribe style; shaved on the sides with a mohawk that cascaded down her back. Her eyes were her only visual connection to the mountain tribes; the same gentle blue that Osric had had.

As she approached the throne, her armor clinked with each step. She did not wear the furs of the other barbarians, preferring the collection of protective metals that she had stolen in raids and crafted into her own version of the invader’s armors. Temujin was as fierce as she was beautiful and had many suitors within the tribe but none meant more to her than her warchief.

“Temujin salkhi,” a woman’s voice rang from behind Elise as the footsteps got closer and stopped within striking distance behind the small blonde. When the footsteps stopped, a set of small, feminine hands reached around from behind Elise and grabbed ahold of the young girl’s forearms. Even though these hands were so much smaller than the warchief’s there was still far more strength in them than Elise could hope to fight and in moments they were pulling the girl’s hands behind her back.
 
Preparing herself for the worse. She screamed and closed her eyes bringing her hands around to cover her face.

Silence.. Had she died? No her head was still onfire as she felt the warchiefs steal grip still on her. Why was it so quiet? Lowering her hands she dared to open her eyes. She could see a flicker in Eirik's eyes, he seemed to be looking beyond her. Something was going on behind her as she struggled to look around.. Unfortunately the way the warchief held her head she couldn't turn around.

Suddenly she got the feeling of dread as a dark shadow seemed to fall over them from behind. Then her arms where grabbed and pulled behind her.. vicious fingers digging into her delicate soft flesh which would leave bruises in there wake. Her screams echoed around the room as she felt the strain on her shoulders. Her arms pulled so far back they felt like they where going to pull out of there sockets.
 
Temujin twisted the little blonde slave’s hands around behind her back and collected both of the smaller girl’s wrists in one of her own much stronger hands. With her other hand now free, Temujin reached up and grabbed a handful of hair on the back of Elise’s head. When this happened, the warchief released his own hold on the blonde locks and turned his attention back to Elise with a wicked grin upon his lips. Things really didn’t look good for Elise now. Her hands were trapped in an iron grip against the small of her own back, her hair was in another grip, and now the barbarian man that had told her that she was a slave had two free hands.

As another wave of whispers were sent washing over the crowed, the warchief got to his feet and unbuckled the clamp of his metal waistband. The band fell to the wooden floor with a clang, followed by his fur and cloth kilt. His manhood stood erect in front of the little blonde girl now, unhidden by the kilt which she could have used as cover if she had just done this by herself in the first place. If she had just followed orders, she could have used the kilt as cover and she might not have even been noticed by the crowd but now the entire hall was watching the scene unfold before them and she would be forced to openly please the warchief.

With his kilt cast aside, the warchief sat back down into his throne and the warrior woman, Temujin, began to wrestle Elise back to her knees. With the warrior woman’s strength, there would have been little point in resisting. Temujin would easily be able to overpower Elise and force the girl to do whatever she might want. The best thing that Elise could do is accept her defeat but neither of the barbarians expected the invader child to be that smart. They expected her to continue resisting and they knew that she would lose that fight one way or another.
 
As the warchief dropped his fur and cloth kilt Elise struggled helplessly while Temujin held her. Elise screamed and closed her eyes .. much like an ostrich that sticks it's head in the sand thinking if she can't see it it wont be there.

Her feet where kicking the whole way as Temujin half dragged and half carried the kicking and screaming girl and forced her down between the warchiefs legs. Her cheek brushed against something.. thick and meaty, she didn't have to see it to know that that was Eirik's cock.
 
Once Temujin had forced the little blonde girl to her knees, the barbarian woman used her grip on Elise’s hair to force the girl’s face into the warchief’s groin. It was on the way down that her cheek slapped against Eirik’s meaty shaft and only a moment later, the blonde girl’s nose was being pressed against the barbarian man’s scrotum. Now in personal proximity of the barbarian’s manhood, it would be impossible for Elise to overlook the musk that his body possessed. Temujin must have smelt it too because she leaned over the blonde girl and gave the head of Eirik’s cock a quick kiss before she leaned back and pulled Elise away from the man’s package.

By the time that Temujin had positioned Elise just where it was that the barbarian woman wanted the little Castilian girl, the crowd was roaring again. Elise’s nose was only inches from the base of the warchief cock and his scrotum. The shaft of his thick cock was pressing against her soft little cheek, pulsing every few seconds in anticipation of the inevitable. Elise couldn’t win this fight. Surely she had to know that.

“Lick,” the warchief barked at the little blonde girl between his thighs. “Please Eirik, slave. Let Elise live.” Elise had bluffed before about the armies of her village coming for her and now the barbarian man made a bluff against her life. She would be no good to the tribe if she was killed but fear of one’s life could be quite the motivator to get slave motivated about their new jobs.
 
She was slowly trying to shake her head 'no,' while the barbarian woman kept a tight hold of her. Elise tried to summon the courage to refuse him. Her blush ran down from her cheeks till it disapeard beneath the neckline of her dress. Never had she thought she would have to do such a disgusting act, the thought of which revolted her. Her fear was rising up within her second by second.

Finally she surrendered and stuck out her soft pink tongue, but as soon as her tongue made contact with his thick cock she quickly reeled her tongue back in with disgust. She opened her eyes and looked up, meeting his eyes. She could feel his power over her as her. Unconsciously trying to pull away from him. Real terror transformed her face, she could still feel the physical strength of the woman that held her before the warchief.

Still less then an inch away from his cock. They stared at each other for a few long moments. She had the feeling that he was devouring her frightened look, drinking in each of her little tremors. She wondered what he was about to do with her.She could see his cock throb .. it seemed to grown harder and stiffer almost as if the more frightened she became the harder his cock would grow.

Her eyes moist with tears turned from his face and now looked at the cock that was so close to her face. Humiliated as she was, she leaned forward and started licking his cock.
 
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