Shipwrecked Into Slavery Ch. 03

The day had finally arrived. The news spread quickly in Devon that the English Fleet had defeated the Spanish Armada, sending the Spanish ships staggering up the coast of Scotland and breaking up across the Atlantic. Sir Francis Drake’s heroism was solidified as word of his calm demeanor in the face of attack circulated. While playing a game of bowls on The Hoe in Plymouth, he was told of the Spanish Armada’s entrance into the English Channel. His response was to finish his game first. He did and then he and Lord Admiral Howard finished the Spanish.

Catalina greeted the news without a flicker of despair, for she had always identified herself as more English than Spanish. The victory would result in a big celebration at Haverstoke’s castle, however, and Catalina was almost certain that the ribaldry would lead to her into Jake’s bed at last.

It would be a turning point for her, signaling her time for escape. A wary partnership had developed between Elizabeth’s maid, Rose, and Catalina. Rose was exceedingly jealous of her ladyship’s attention to Catalina, and she wanted her gone from the castle. She had put aside some of her own clothing for her, and had collected information for her about her half-brothers and their estate some miles down the coast. She also agreed to set Catalina free of her chains one evening so she could make her escape. Catalina’s only reason for waiting was her desire for Jake. Then she would show him how strong she really was by turning her back on him. He was mistaken if he believed she had been broken and subdued by the treatment she’d received at his castle.

The day of the celebration began with Catalina already sore and tired. Elizabeth, also sensing her husband’s impending claim on her slave, had used her vigorously the previous day and night. Mrs. Bascomb and the rest of the servants were bustling around the castle in preparation of the festivities, and Elizabeth had ordered Mrs. Bascomb to take Catalina in her wake, ostensibly so that she could help the servants, but Catalina knew it was just to continue her humiliation. Mrs. Bascomb attached a leash to the ring between Catalina’s legs and led her around the castle on her hands and knees. She was not allowed to wear any of the pretty, transparent silk garments that Elizabeth had fashioned for her either. She was to remain naked except for the gold rings on her nipples, with a chain swinging between them, and the ring on her bud to which the leash was attached.

All throughout that day Mrs. Bascomb had yanked her along in her wake to the appreciative looks of the servants. She was present while the maids were making up the beds in the spare bedchambers for the guests. Once they finished laying the linens on the beds, they had her do the most menial of tasks for them, dusting under the beds, shaking out the coverlets, and polishing the bedposts. In short, they stood around talking while they ordered Catalina to do the rest of the work. To get her attention or to position her in another part of the room, they casually tugged on her leash or grasped the chain between her nipples. If they were displeased with her work or thought she was moving too slowly, they smacked her bottom with their bare hands or borrowed Mrs. Bascomb’s paddle that she kept hooked to a belt around her waist. Catalina’s bottom was sore and stinging as she left each bedchamber.

Mrs. Bascomb then led Catalina into the kitchens where she used to work before Haverstoke turned her over to his wife. The kitchen and scullery maids were resentful of the soft treatment Catalina was now receiving in the castle’s living quarters and they meant to have their revenge. Again, they set her to all the hardest tasks, pulling her this way and that by her rings. When it was time for their break, they decided to play with her a little more. While they sat down to their bread and butter, Catalina climbed onto the large oak table to serve them, but she was not allowed to use her hands. So she crawled back and forth along the table picking up cutlery or thick slices of bread between her breasts, which she squeezed together with her hands. Releasing her breasts, she dropped the items in front of the maids. For her efforts, she received a tug on the chain hanging between her breasts or a flick to her nipple rings.

When the meal was over, the maids devised a game for their pleasure and Catalina’s humiliation. They piled grapes, strawberries, kumquats, and all other manner of small fruit at the end of the long table. Then they ordered her to crawl to the stack of fruit, turn around, and lowering her bottom, pick up the fruit in the crack of her bottom cheeks. They allowed her the use of her hands to spread her cheeks to accommodate the larger pieces of fruit. After securing a piece of fruit in her ass, she was to crawl to the other end of the table and deposit it in the same manner. Her journey down the length of the table was punctuated by slaps and pinches to her bottom in an effort to dislodge the fruit. The maids found as much sport in gambling as did their male counterparts, and they laid bets on who could jar loose the most fruit, whether a piece of fruit would be released at the other end of the table squashed or whole, and how fast Catalina could pick up and release a piece of fruit.

At the end of the game, Catalina was stiff and tired and had mashed fruit dripping from her bottom. The maid who lost the most bets got the dubious honor of licking her clean. The maids hauled her off the table, bent her over it, and had her spread her legs wide open. The losing maid bent down behind her spread-eagled form and began lapping up the mess dribbling down Catalina’s crack and thighs. A few times she’d press her face between her legs and dart her tongue toward Catalina’s hard pearl causing her to groan and grind herself against the table.

They were not done with her yet, desirous of delivering one final indignity. One of the women scooped up some butter in her fingers and massaged it into Catalina’s bottom hole. Each woman grabbed her own choice of phallus, whether it was a cucumber, banana, or spoon and lined up behind Catalina’s protruding, oiled ass. They took turns pumping her, some reaching around to tweak the rings on her nipples or tug at the one piercing her nub. While her ass was being invaded, she climaxed several times, pushing back against the object and the hand holding it.

Getting back to work, they left her bent over the table, her glistening bottom opened by a long carrot shoved firmly into her hole. She stayed there while they worked around her, as nobody had as yet given her an order to move and Mrs. Bascomb had left the kitchen on another errand.

Soon Mrs. Bascomb returned and she pulled at Catalina’s leash, telling her to get on her hands and knees. While she led her out of the kitchen, Mrs. Bascomb said, “Now it’s time for you to do your duty in the stables. The men are filled with pent up excitement over the festivities tomorrow, and her ladyship wishes them to relieve some of this tension.” She smirked down at Catalina. “Don’t look so downcast, slave, we all know you enjoy it so much.”

The men who had been working outside all day readying the gardens and the stables were now gathered in the stable waiting for their entertainment. Mrs. Bascomb walked into the center of the gathering and dropped Catalina’s leash. “Here’s your reward for all your hard work, men. Use her as you wish; I’ll be back to collect her when her ladyship feels enough time has passed.”

The head groom, Percy, took charge in her absence. “All right, lads, don’t push, no fighting, and we’ll all get our turns. Before we rig ‘er up, I’ll have a bit to eat seeing as how I devised our bit of fun.”

Percy had already seen the green stem of the carrot still hanging out of Catalina’s hole when Mrs. Bascomb led her into the stable. And he ordered her to bend over a bale of hay. The hay scratched her as she lay across it. There were shouts of laughter as the men saw the carrot in her ass and Percy’s meaning became clear to them all.

“Reach back, slut, and spread those cheeks out wide. I don’t want to work too hard for me bite to eat.”

Catalina reached back with both of her hands and spread herself wide open for him. Her cheeks were still slick with the butter the maids had spread over her, and she had to pinch her bottom for a better grip. The men enjoyed the view. Percy put the stem of the carrot between his teeth and tugged. The carrot eased out a bit and he bit off the end flush with her hole. This left him nothing to grip.

He looked around him slyly. “Push that out a little for me, slave.”

Catalina bore down to expel more of the carrot, and Percy bit off the next section. He ordered her to push out a little more, but as she did so, he promptly used his tongue to shove it back inside. The other men roared their approval. He teased her in this manner a few more times, and then returned to nipping off pieces with his teeth. When there was just the small tip of the carrot left in her anus, Perry wiggled his tongue inside her The other men enjoyed the sight so much, they brushed Catalina’s hands off her ass cheeks and used their own rough hands to squeeze them together, mashing Perry’s lips and nose between her cheeks.

When Perry came up for air, it was with a big smile on his face. “Now lads, it’s time for the fun to start.”

Catalina was still face down over the bale of hay, so she couldn’t see what was making the sliding noise behind her. Then two of the men grabbed her roughly and stood her on her feet. Her eyes lifted to a rope contraption hanging down from the loft above; the ropes seemed to be connected by pulleys and there was a canvas cloth in the middle of it all.

The men soon had her positioned amid the ropes, her back reclining on the canvas seat, leaving her whole bottom area exposed with her legs spread wide open. Once she was settled, one man in each of the four corners unwound the ropes from their moorings. When two of the men pulled, her body moved up and down; when the other two men pulled the ropes, her body swayed forward and backward.

One of the grooms placed a small stool in front of her, and the men began drawing pieces of hay. Based on the length of the piece they drew, the men began forming two lines. The two men at the heads of the lines removed their breeches, their eager cocks already hard and stiff. One of the gardeners stepped forward with a handful of lard. He reached under her and began spreading it all along her cunny, shoving his greased fingers into her two holes.

“She hardly needs it, mates. She’s dripping wet already.”

It was true. Catalina didn’t know quite what was in store for her, but her body reacted with excitement at the thought of being used by all these men. Her months serving as a sex slave at the castle had truly conditioned her.

At last they were ready. One of the men naked below the waist sat down on the stool in front of her, his hard cock sticking out like a rod. The second man lay down beneath her body, his member jutting straight up. They nodded and the men handling the ropes began pulling. Catalina’s body swung forward slowly until her love hole was pierced by the cock in front of her. They left her there for a moment, as the man on the stool pumped his hips forward, delving into her purse. The men pulled the ropes again and she eased back, withdrawing from the stiff rod. Again, the ropes moved and her body was lowered onto the waiting shaft below her. This hard prick was aimed right at her bottom hole and pierced its target as its owner grunted Again she remained in this position as the man below her plowed her anus.

Back and forth, and up and down she went, both of her holes invaded as the other men formed a circle around the spectacle and cheered. Of course, the inevitable bets were placed as to whom would shoot first. The man on the stool went first, spilling his seed into her purse, but the man on the ground was not to be denied. The ropes pulled her away from the winner, her cunny now dripping, and lowered her down to the loser; he now used her until he too shot his effusion into her ass.

One of the men ran up quickly with a cloth and hastily wiped Catalina from front to back. And then the next two took their places and others rotated for their turns on the ropes, and the circus act began again. The men were making so much noise that it brought the maids out of the kitchen. And so they were obliged to watch from the stable doors, their men taking their pleasure with the Spanish slave.

Every man in the stables got his turn at either her front hole or her back hole. A few of the younger men who could manage another erection enjoyed a turn at both of her holes. One of the oldest men admitted he was hard pressed to hold an erection at all and said he’d be satisfied with her mouth. So he was settled in the stool, his limp member hanging between his legs, and Catalina was lowered and brought forward so her mouth was level with his cock. She sucked it in, twirling her tongue around the old man’s flaccid member, then licking and sucking his sack. She ran her lips on the underside and began to feel a twitch of life. Quickly she took him back in her mouth sucking hard. He stiffened a little and dribbled on her tongue. A look of sublime pleasure suffused his face until his wife marched in, slapped Catalina’s breasts back and forth, and yanked her husband off the stool to the general hilarity of the company.

Mrs. Bascomb returned to break up the party, and the men disengaged Catalina from the rope pulleys. The men’s effusion was oozing out of her holes and running down her thighs. Mrs. Bascomb didn’t stop to clean her, instead clipping her leash between her legs and leading her out of the stables.

“Lady Haverstoke doesn’t wish to have you in the house just yet because of your filthy condition, and her maid isn’t available to wash you up. Instead you’ll remain in the courtyard. “The phallus chair” as Catalina had dubbed it was sitting in the middle of the courtyard platform, and Mrs. Bascomb led her serenely to her place.

Mrs. Bascomb eyed the men’s juices dripping out of her holes and declared, “You won’t need any lubrication; just sit down.”

Catalina positioned herself above the seat of the chair until the two phalluses were pointing at her two holes and then eased down until she was impaled by both of them. She spread her legs out on either side of the chair and pinned her arms behind her, so that she was on display for all to see. Mrs. Bascomb then clipped two chains to the ring on her pearl and ran them underneath the chair, up over her shoulders, and attached them to the rings on her nipples. So there she remained for the rest of the afternoon. The other servants barely gave her a glance, as they were accustomed to the sight now.

As the sky darkened, Mrs. Bascomb led her into the house up to her ladyship’s chambers. Elizabeth eyed her with disgust. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you? You enjoyed all of it. I thought at one time you could be my nice pet, but you’re really just a whore, aren’t you?”

Catalina’s eyes met hers for just a moment before she dropped her gaze. “Yes, Mistress.”

Elizabeth taunted, “Yes, Mistress, what?”

“Yes, Mistress, I enjoyed it and I’m a whore.”

“I understand you even made old Simon spill into your mouth. Is there nothing you won’t do to degrade yourself?”

Catalina didn’t bother to point out that Elizabeth was the one responsible for her degradation. Instead she answered, “No, Mistress, nothing.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think so. But I take pity on you anyway. Because you’ve been so thoroughly used today and we made need you for tomorrow, I’ll have Rose give you a nice bath, and you may sleep at the foot of my bed, not roped to the end as is your custom. Tomorrow you shall take very little food and will endure a cleansing enema at the end of the day. You are not to pleasure yourself, however, and will be secured so that doesn’t happen.” She hesitated for a moment. “Those are his lordship’s orders.”

Catalina brightened at the thought. Then it was to be…he planned to take her on the morrow.

Elizabeth spoke the truth. Catalina spent most of the next day languishing in her ladyship’s chambers. She dressed in her customary silks with only her hands bound to prevent her from touching herself. Elizabeth returned to her rooms to get ready for the ball and the feast, and Rose was to prepare Catalina as well. This included the promised enema, a bath in scented water, a thorough shaving, and the adornment of Catalina’s body.

Rose rubbed silky oil into her skin. She then lined her eyes with a dark kohl pencil and reddened her lips with rouge. She rubbed the rouge onto Catalina’s nipples as well and then highlighted her slit with it. She brushed rose powder on her cheekbones and then dusted her body with a gold glitter that shimmered in the candlelight. Turning toward the looking glass, Catalina gasped at the vision she presented. She appeared to be some kind of exotic creature, not a human woman at all.

Finally, Rose secured a black mask around her head that covered the top of her face, leaving holes for her eyes and clipped a gold leash to the ring between her legs. She handed the leash to Elizabeth, who led her downstairs. She was indeed to be regarded as a creature. Hanging from the ceiling in the great hall was a gilded cage, and Elizabeth led her into it. A footman climbed in after her and hooked her leash to one of the bars of the cage. He then attached another gold chain to the chain hanging between her nipple rings and clipped this to another of the cage’s bars. So Catalina was held in place by her rings. She understood at once that she was to be on display for all the fine guests.

Haverstoke soon came downstairs to join his wife in welcoming their guests. He approached Catalina’s cage, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. “As England has triumphed over Spain, so shall I triumph over you.”

Her dark eyes smoldered as she stared into his blue eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, my lord.”

He laughed and jingled her chains before moving to the foot of the staircase. As the guests arrived, Lord Haverstoke warned them that he had a Spanish captive at his castle and she was on display in the great hall. When the guests entered the great hall, they were drawn to the corner where the gilded cage hung, entrapping the beautiful Spaniard. The men stared at her boldly, pulling on her chains, while the women glanced at her furtively from beneath their lashes.

Soon the room was crowded with lavishly dressed people, all in high spirits. The exotic Spanish slave was a common topic of the conversations that drifted just below the music. Nobody dared touch her, but many gazed upon her nakedness, curiously eyeing the gold rings encircling her nipples and bud, her shaved mound exposing her rouged slit and pouting lips. As the men gathered around the cage out of earshot of the ladies, they boasted of what they’d do to the slave to teach Spain a lesson.

Two young men grasped the bars of the cage and crudely commented upon her engorged bud that was being pulled free from her nether lips by the heavy gold ring and the leash tugging it further out. Their manner and looks startled her with their familiarity, for the amused blue eyes looked just like her father’s. Haverstoke, noting the two men ogling the creature in the cage, moved forward to join them.

“And what do you think of my Spanish captive, Julian, Sebastian.”

At the mention of those two names, Catalina blanched beneath her mask. Julian, Sebastian, and Alastair…those were the names of her three half-brothers. Her eyes widened and she gulped convulsively as she jerked her head toward Haverstoke.

He returned her look with raised brows. It was evident that the names meant something to her. Could she really be the daughter of Donal Penlerick? And how would these brothers of hers feel about this if she were? Would they laugh in amusement or would their family pride extend even to their father’s illegitimate Spanish daughter? He was glad she was masked. He wouldn’t relish killing one of the Penlerick brothers in a duel over their sister’s honor.