Babala's Correction by Bethany Amber Read Free Book Online Page A

and she mewed miserably that her ploy had not worked.
    â€˜Come, my pretty,’ said Bart, holding her prisoner. ‘You and I will take our pleasure at the back of the cave.’
    There was nothing Babala could do but submit, and to aid the man to take his fill of her. As his thickness drove into her she arched up to him, lifting his heavy body with her own slender one, and her mind drifted back to the Taskmaster, and his tenderness as he broke her virgin maidenhead. The memory took away the roughness meted out by Bart, and her climax was swift and endlessly pleasurable.
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Chapter 3
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    Early the next morning Babala awoke feeling stiff and weary, and her cunny felt raw from its rough treatment. Her breasts were sore by days of less than gentle handling and her belly, buttocks, thighs and back were covered with welts, some fresh and red and others fading.
    While the guards still slept she crawled to the entrance of the cave. In the pale dawn light mists moved like wraiths over the valley below. She saw, just a short distance away, a small lake as blue as her sapphire eyes. Although she was naked and shivering in the early morning chill she longed to immerse her aching limbs in the icy water.
    With an apprehensive look over her shoulder at Bart, she edged close to the rim of the cliff in which the cave was situated. He was deeply asleep, mouth open and leather loincloth pushed to one side to reveal a cock, which even in sleep was stiff and upright, its globe bare and slick with issue. He smiled as if he dreamed of impaling Babala, and his forefinger and thumb rested at the base of his thick stem, pulsing the fleshy shaft.
    The other men were similarly unconscious, weary from their sexual labours. Lady Fazath, drooping in her bonds, was suspended from the manacles driven into the cave wall. Babala felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman, but had she not brought all these troubles upon them by stealing the Prince’s prize?
    Babala sighed as she thought of the comfort and sensual delights of the palace, of her tender taking by the Taskmaster, and the waiting to be called from the harem to the presence of the Prince. That waiting made her belly liquid with joy and her sex moist with excitement.
    The first rays of the sun appeared over the far horizon and Babala knew she must hurry if she was to experience the luxury of cool, refreshing water in her hair and enveloping her body. The chill would surely soothe her many wounds as well as slake her thirst.
    As she turned to make her way down the short stretch of steep mountain she dislodged a stone, which tumbled noisily down the slope. She clung to the crumbling cliff face, her body tense, fearing reprisal from the guards if they should wake and catch her. She looked back once more to check them, but Bart merely grunted and turned on his side, still cradling his cock and thrusting into his dream woman.
    It was not far down the mountainside, but the stones chafed Babala’s bare feet as she scrambled to the bottom. She was oblivious to the pain, so anxious was she to soak the filth of the guards from her skin and hair and soothe the many abrasions that marred the previous perfection of her body.
    At last she reached the foot of the cliff and ran swiftly along the short path that led to the lake. With a soft laugh of joy she dived into the icy water, cutting it like a knife with her perfectly arched body. It was bliss to feel the water cleansing her hair, washing away the dust from the cave and the evidence of the guards. Spreading her legs and using her fingers to open her sex folds she allowed the water to seep into her cunny. She dipped her head and took draught after draught of the cold water, drinking it down.
    Lifting her hands she scrubbed her scalp. Water dripped from her breasts and shimmered like diamonds in the rising sun.
    At last satisfied that her hair was clean she sank down beneath the surface of the lake again, allowing the golden cascade to