3 – Ceremony

Content Warning - slavery, noncon, exhibition, humiliation, oral

As I knelt naked in front of my partner, in front of dozens of barbarian men, and a handful of silk-clad slaves, I tried to convince myself that this was just a mission parameter. I was playing a role, strategic submission, temporary immersion for accurate data collection under duress.

Whatever had been in the wine said otherwise. Waves of heat radiated from my belly, making me want to grind my hips again, something, anything to relieve the building pressure. I clenched my thighs, trying to find any subtle relief from the urges I refused to name. The traitorous warmth made my bare nipples ache in a way that was beyond humiliating in front of so many men.

Thrain stood and roared, capturing the attention of everyone inside the crude dining hall. “A warrior makes a claim!”

The men in the hall erupted in cheers, but I couldn’t help notice the women all turned their eyes down quietly. Mugs slammed against tables as the warriors began chanting, “Who claims? Who claims?”

Thrain nodded to Jaxon, and my partner took the cue. He rose up, declared, “I claim…” Jaxon paused, then pointed at me, as I knelt naked on the dirt floor. He shouted as the mob roared, “This slave is mine!”

“Let’s settle this ownership before the night deepens!” Thrain yelled. Another raucous cheer filled the hall. The half dozen slaves moved quickly to join our table, fanning out behind me so the majority of men in the hall had a clear view of my hunched, submissive form. Thrain leaned into Jaxon and handed him a thick leather collar, a twin of the ones the other slaves wore. I gulped, knowing that it would be locked around my neck soon.

The elder warrior turned towards me and motioned with his hand to the redheaded slave that gave me the wine. He gestured to me telling her loudly so all could hear, “This girl is in your charge. Prepare her, and deliver her to the master who will claim her.”

The redheaded bowed, saying, “Yes, master.”

She rushed to me and held out both hands with a demure smile, as if happy to be helping enslave a sister. I searched her face for any sign of concern or worry and saw none. She was happily aiding in the exploitation of others. She pulled me standing with my hands, then guided me to a stone basin next to the firepit.

At the basin, she paused, waiting for me to do something. I stood looking at her, wishing we could get this over with so I could leave with Jaxon and maybe even cover myself. She leaned in and whispered, “Place your hand behind your neck.”

Stars. Being naked in front of everyone was bad enough, but doing that would force my breasts out, making it so my hands couldn’t cover my sex. The humiliations never seemed to end. I began to see why these women in silks acted the way they did, they’d been systematically broken down like I was now.

I forced my arms up and closed my eyes, unable to look anywhere and not see crude apish men leering at me. I heard the basin being disturbed, the water in it splashing. Then warm clothes touched me everywhere. Soft, gentle hands, more than just the redhead’s stroked me with wet clothes, wiping me, cleaning me. With closed eyes, I could almost imagine this being luxurious, the men talking in low murmurs, though, reminded me exactly where I was, on display and being prettied up for their approval.

The washing was stirring something darker. I had to fight to keep my hips still as washcloths grazed dangerously close to my inner thighs, teasing the fires within. Each stroke across my breasts drew a soft mewling sound as my body conspired against me. Finally, a bold hand pressed a wet, warm cloth between my thighs, sending shockwaves through my core. I hated how my hips thrust forward, my body yielding as my mind screamed in denial.

Fires erupted inside me, and I released a soft moan, opening my eyes to stare straight into the face of the dark-haired, sneering slave. She pressed her cloth to me again with more force, and I nearly doubled over. The sensations burning through me were so strong. Forcing myself to stand rigidly in place, I could feel my thighs quiver as she continued tormenting me with a wicked smile. The men beyond her laughed, enjoying the sight of my torture.

She was establishing her own dominance. It wasn’t bad enough dealing with the men exerting power by force, this woman was shaming me publicly in front of her in-group to show her power over me. It also highlighted her own insecurities of being aged out as a favorite toy. She was an alpha bully, making a subtle claim matching those of the men.

My body's betrayal wasn’t me, it was pharmacology and evolutionary defense, responding to forces outside its own control. That she knew the wine was affecting me and played this game sent coils of rage through me, burning almost as hot as the lust. I hated her smile, yet envied her ease. Could I do the same if in her shoes?

Sadly, she was damned good at what she was doing, and I could feel myself clenching involuntarily. I bit my lower lip and stared into her eyes as the tension built to a peak. I promised someday I would return the favor as the orgasm washed through me. I fought to remain as rigid as possible, knowing my quivering legs gave everything away. At least I had the satisfaction of making no noise for her. Her coy little smile absorbed the hateful glare I gave her.

I hissed through my teeth as the quakes subsided and hoped that this little battle had only been between us. The men were still being rowdy, hopefully oblivious to what had occurred between their silly slave girls.

Thrain approached with a mug in his hand. He took a massive drink, gulping down a liter of beer before slamming the mug down on a nearby log table. Looking straight at me, he demanded, “Kneel.”

The washcloths all departed my skin at once as the other slaves stepped away. I dropped to my knees quickly, letting my arms fall to my sides. Looking up at the elder warrior, I could tell he was waiting for something more. A sidelong glance revealed that all the other slaves had averted their eyes and were looking at the ground. I did the same and waited in the awkward silence.

“Your slave is poorly trained, Warrior Jaxon,” Thrain said as he loomed over me.

I couldn’t help the errant thought, that’s because I’m a free woman. Which seemed weird, I’d never thought of people before being free or not. We were all equals. Except, right now I wasn’t. And that seemed grossly unfair to me, I’d done nothing at all, committed no crimes, and here I was incarcerated. All the women on this world were.

“Inspect!” Thrain barked.

I looked up at him, then over to Jaxon. My partner looked concerned. The worry on his face was palpable, enough so that I was worried other men might notice. I glanced at the slaves, and they all stood quietly, looking down at the ground. Except for the dark-haired slave, her smug smile was louder than all the rest of them.

“Kessa, show the new girl how a slave kneels.” Thrain snapped.

The redhead stepped forward and dropped to her knees next to me. I glanced over and saw that she had her hands on her thighs, palms up. I mimicked the detail, then noticed her legs were spread wide, knees apart, showing everything. I scooted, forcing my knees wide apart, so that every intimate bit of me was now on display. The smaller slave thrust her shoulders back and forth, and I understood instantly. I pressed my own back, thrusting my chest out. I didn’t have to see the other girl to know her eyes were downcast. There was no way I wanted to look up and see the crowd of men looking unabashedly at my spread open thighs.

“She is a natural submissive, quick to learn exactly how to display herself,” Thrain said.

My skin flushed, not in shame, but in revulsion. There wasn’t a submissive thread in my entire core. I was playing their game so we could hunt Drayce, nothing more. Given a single moment of opportunity, I would gut him and the man barking orders at us in an instant. Submissive indeed.

“Inspect,” Thrain barked without using her name.

The small redhead leapt up to her feet, her hands going to the back of her neck. I followed suit, noticing again how wide her legs were spread. I forced myself into the humiliating pose.

A quick stolen glance revealed that Jaxon was watching. I shuddered. His gaze was capturing everything. It was all being recorded and uploaded to the spy buoy we’d left in orbit. Eventually, staff at the Risk Mitigation Division would see our recordings. They’d see me displayed, posing, exposed, covering absolutely nothing as men leered and lusted. His face was a stoic mask, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he might be enjoying the degrading display I was being put through. It made me look down and remind myself that we were professionals on a mission.

“Kneel!” Thrain demanded.

In unison, we dropped, knees wide open, hands behind our necks. My body responded before I could even think. To a certain extent, I was proud to be such a quick learner. Yet, I was ashamed at how being posed like this made me feel… Small, diminutive, and on display as if trying to please the men around me. I was being turned into a decoration, something pleasant and pleasing to look at.

“She takes to training well. You’d benefit greatly by sending her to an obedience yard in Trafalkar.” The elder warrior stroked his chin, considering me in ways that made my skin crawl. I was shocked that he suggested being sent to a training school. Not even that, he’d called it an obedience yard, like I was some animal to be yoked and trained. I was livid at the casualness of it all.

And yet, the heat in my belly kept my nipples achingly hard as his gaze inspected me. Worse yet, I could feel the slickness on my thighs, shamed utterly at the thought of being moist as he barked orders at us. I wasn’t able to stop the rhythmic clenching deep inside me as my body ignored my every demand.

“Present her.” Thrain said.

The redhead jumped up and moved to me. She gave me her hands and helped lift me to my feet, even though I was taller than her. She gently turned me, then placed a gentle hand on the back of my neck and another on my shoulder.

“Inspect,” she whispered in my ear. I forced my hands up as she circled behind me. Her fingers wrapped around both of my pinkies, effectively cuffing me in one dainty hand as she placed the other on my shoulder.

She guided me smoothly to the outer edge of the hall. I wanted desperately to close my eyes, but I couldn’t walk blind without stumbling and making this ordeal take even longer. I forced myself to walk naked ahead of the barely covered slave.

The men in the hall had fallen into an eerie silence. Eyes devoured me. On their faces, I could see their imaginations at work, imagining me in every manner of demeaning position as they claimed ownership of my body. All that attention made the fires flare and shamed me at the same time.

I was forced to walk around the edge of the hall in front of several dozen men. Each step sent waves of exposure rippling through me, my skin alive with unwanted heat, shame twisting into a dark, unwilling thrill. I couldn’t cover myself with my fingers locked behind me. Nothing shielded me from their eyes, each leer peeling another layer until I felt raw, exposed, but strangely alive.

Finally, I found myself before Jaxon, guided down to kneel. I looked up to feel how painfully spread my legs were for him, eager to have this ceremony completed so we could depart and go anywhere with even a whisper of privacy.

It was difficult to read the exact emotion on his face, but I saw his jaw clench once. He was maintaining a professional mask for the other men, but the clench meant internally he was struggling, perhaps angry that he couldn’t intervene in my mistreatment. The flush on his cheeks and dilated pupils said something else. He was aroused, which both made me proud of my body and also horrified me to my core. He was a man, I’m not sure if enduring was the right word, but he had to watch me paraded around naked, chest thrust out, legs spread, hiding nothing.

“I collar this slave and make her my own!” Jaxon announced to the room while staring right at me. He clutched the leather collar, gripping it with white knuckles.

The cold, rational part of my brain told me this was the only way we'd get to Drayce. I gave Jaxon the slightest nod possible, letting him know I was still willing to play along.

He returned the nod and leaned from his chair to me, opening the collar and reaching for my neck.

Thrain cleared his throat and shook his weathered head. “You must claim her…”

“I claim this slave as my…” Jaxon announced to laughter bursting out across the room.

“No. You must claim her, make use of her body, and truly claim her,” Thrain replied.

Jaxon looked back at me in horror. The look on his face alone would blow our cover. I was proud that his reaction was to recoil in absolute rejection of their ceremony, but he was putting us at risk. If he didn’t claim me, I’d spend the next two weeks pleasing an endless stream of warriors who’d ‘rescued’ me.

I couldn’t risk the junior agent having this explode around us, so I acted.

I leaned in between Jaxon’s legs, scooting forward as I did so, and worked at the fly of his flight suit. He reached down to stop me, but I was already rubbing the top of my head to his abdomen.

The hall around us erupted in cheers.

Jaxon’s hands found my dark waves, and he tried to push back on me. I slipped a hand into his open zipper, my fingers wrapped around the thick, heated length of him. I felt a shudder roll down his legs as I drew him out with a firm squeeze.

Before he could protest or ruin the cover we needed, I sucked him into my mouth, disappointed that I wasn’t able to spend a moment marveling at the girth of him in my hand. My full lips sealed tightly around his shaft, and I sucked his head in, savoring the salty musk of him. Letting a trickle of drool dribble out, I wetted his shaft, letting my fingers glide over the pulsing skin.

One of his fists closed in my dark waves, then only halfheartedly trying to pull me away. The other rested on my crown, still clutching the gifted collar. I shoved myself down, choking in the process as he gave an involuntary moan. Disaster averted… Now I had a moment to take stock of the situation.

I continued rocking back and forth, letting him fill my mouth, stretching my jaw with an ache. The traitorous fires between my slick thighs pulsed with burning heat.

He was my junior partner. I was supposed to be the one in charge, and in a way, I suppose I was. Yet here, with his fist in my waves, our hierarchy was inverted, leaving me hollowed by the role reversal.

It had been a long time since I’d given a man oral. The entire act had always felt demeaning. Being on my knees, head lowered, ignoring my own wants to please another. After a few fumbling efforts in university, I’d never done this for another romantic partner. I briefly worried that my lack of skills might now put us in jeopardy. When Jaxon groaned and thrust his hips forward, a burst of shameful pride drove me on.

I bobbed my head up and down, trying to find a rhythm that made him shudder. His groans drove me on. He was no longer trying to pull me away, but his hand remained in my hair, tightening every time I choked myself on him. My world shrank to the ache in my jaw, the salt coating my tongue, the humiliating certainty that my body had already yielded even as my mind clawed for control.

It didn’t take long before his cock was fully hard in my mouth. It became more difficult to force him to the back of my throat, the velvet heat of him stretching my jaw, a bitter-salt pulse that made my throat clench involuntarily. I prepared myself for a torturously long performance, but in no time, I could feel him pulsing in my mouth. The thought that I could excite a man half my age so quickly, so easily, did something to me. I doubled my efforts, chasing the rhythm that made him shudder, a dark, shameful pride blooming as I felt him losing control.

My cheeks hollowed as I tried to draw the cum out of him with suction alone. His gasps made my thighs clench on their own accord.

The shaft twitched, and Jaxon groaned. It was a long, pained sound. And then he flooded me. I was drowning, choking, coughing, and sputtering all at once.

Squeezing with my hand, I continued stroking him as hard as I could. I was ashamed I’d ruined my first attempt at oral sex with a coughing fit. As I sputtered, hot sticky splashes coated my face.

I continued working him with my hand as he moaned loudly. When I could finally breathe, and his hips slowed their twitching, I released my grip on him. My hands, like my face, were covered in his spunk.

The taste hit me, strong and bitter. I spit it out in a half-cough, covering his glistening cock. Panting, I stared at the slick shaft in my hands, stunned at how deeply I’d taken him. I was amazed at how my body had stretched to accommodate it. Just the thought of him inside me sent fresh flares of heat through my core.

When I looked up, I saw Jaxon looking down at me. Our eyes locked, and being beneath him, on my knees, looking up, made me feel so small, so tiny, that I leaned forward and gave the tip of him a small kiss. I couldn’t explain why, but I needed a kind word or affirmation.

His hands left my head, and he showed me the collar. I gave a slight nod, wanting to get this all over with. The crowd around us was laughing, talking loudly, crudely. I could hear them all, and the realization they’d been there the whole time made my entire face blush. The ache between my legs pulsed. I would literally blow Jaxon again right then and there if we could just be swept away somewhere private.

Jaxon lowered the collar, and I lifted my head. Collar me, please, let's finish this, I screamed in my mind.

As he lowered the collar to me, Thrain was suddenly there. One hand stopped Jaxon from placing the collar on me.

I wanted to cry, to scream out. What was happening?

Thrain shook his head, “No lad, that’s not enough. To claim her, you must fully claim her. Make hers yours. Not just with a collar, but through her body as well.”

We both understood in an instant. I’d degraded myself in front of all these men, and it wasn’t enough. Jaxon was expected to fuck me. Fuck me thoroughly, before he could collar me.

I didn’t know if I could do it. Fucked in front of dozens of men, the shame alone would crush me. The burst of heat in my loins, however, told an entirely different story.