Babala's Correction by Bethany Amber Read Free Book Online

grunted Capel, and Babala gasped as she saw her ladyship throw back her head. Surely it was pain that made her do this, and not enjoyment. Capel buried his lips between the pink sex folds, searching out the pert bud of madam’s nubbin. ‘And a dripping funnel,’ he added, as he drew his mouth away and thrust two fingers deep into the open slit. He grinned cruelly as madam writhed on his probing digits, but whether this was in pleasure or distaste, Babala could not discern.
    The other men, all except Bart, who so far as Babala could make out was the chief among them, took their turn at taunting the Lady Fazath. Capel, who teased her nubbin and thrust fingers into her depths, finished his humiliation of her by working his huge cock with his fingers and spraying madam’s spread cunny folds with jet after jet of his issue.
    â€˜And how do you like that, your ladyship?’ he grunted, as the creamy arcs splashed upon her flesh.
    Babala peeped between her fingers, for she could not bear to witness her madam shamed in this manner, and saw that her ladyship had her head thrown back and her eyes closed.
    Encouraged by the other men the young fellow, Peli, lifted his brief leather loincloth and approached the Lady Fazath. To Babala, who still peeped between her fingers, he seemed nervous as he drew back his foreskin to bare his swollen and shiny globe. It was as if he thought that madam was a magical creature who could make his cock shrivel and die.
    â€˜Go on, lad!’ urged Graf, pushing the young man so hard that he fell upon madam’s shamed body. ‘What are you waiting for?’
    â€˜Shall we guide your cock in?’ asked Capel with a cruel chuckle. ‘I’ve greased the path for you.’
    The other men laughed at this, and Babala saw the young man blush to the very roots of his hair. Tentatively, she crawled across the dusty floor of the cave. The men were so engrossed in their teasing of the Lady Fazath that they did not notice her until she reached Peli’s feet and caressed his ankles. Looking up she could see the lad butt the globe of his cock at madam’s vulnerable cunny. He frowned and gestured that she should crawl back to her hiding place at the rear of the cave, but it was too late.
    â€˜It seems the young filly is envious!’ Bart exclaimed, and Babala whimpered with distress and pain as she was hauled roughly to her feet. She tried to protest but no words would come. She was not envious, simply sorry for the young man, feeling his humiliation as he was almost forced to take the Lady Fazath with his inexperienced cock.
    â€˜Well, my pretty?’ rasped Bart. ‘Do I understand correctly?’ He held her close, lifting his leather skirt and brushing the thickness of his cock between her thighs, sawing it back and forth between cunny lips made slippery with the Lady Fazath’s spittle.
    â€˜Yes, sir,’ Babala lied softly. ‘Yes, I am envious.’
    â€˜You want to feel the power of a cock within you?’ Bart’s voice was thick with lust. ‘Opening you, pressing the soft cushions of your sex outwards, is that it?’
    Perhaps, thought Babala, if she offered herself to the chief of these men they would stop torturing the Lady Fazath, release her from the manacles which she could see were making ankles and wrists raw.
    â€˜Yes, sir,’ said Babala meekly. She hung her head, letting the golden cascade of her hair spill about each pale cheek.
    â€˜Then that is what it shall be,’ said Bart, his words muffled against the softness of her neck, and a large rough hand cupped the underswell of a breast while the other slapped each thigh in rapid smacks until she opened her legs wide enough to his satisfaction.
    â€˜Have your fill of the woman,’ he said, thrusting thick fingers into Babala’s opening until she could not help but gasp at the force of it. She heard the other men grumble at their having to take second best,