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<title>Aimee', Chapter 4</title><P>
<h1>Aimee', Chapter 4</h1><P>
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	"Come here, child, sit down, sit down."  Bethsany patted the 
couch, trying to be welcoming to the nervous young girl who stood at 
the doorway.  "Young" was perhaps a bit of an inaccuracy to 
Bethsany's eyes, since she had some girls working for her who were 
younger.<P>
	She walked forward, her eyes scanning the room intensely.  
Bethsany saw the careful, analytical training that Darynn had imbued 
Aimee' with, but she also saw the youthful nervousness that came 
naturally to girls at Aimee's age.  Bethsany tried her best to hire 
girls who were already enjoying sex when they came to her; women who 
did their work out of desperation were simply not good workers.<P>
	Aimee' reached out with her hand, touching the rough texture of 
the couch, her eyes exploring.  Bethsany watched her for a moment.  
"It's a brothel, dear.  My customers expect a certain degree of 
garishness."  She smiled.  "Sit down, sit down."<P>
	Aimee' finally took her seat and Bethsany took a longer, more 
careful look at her.  She was what she expected from Teltirray's 
tastes; tall, slim, relatively small breasts.  Dark hair and bright, 
blue eyes were something of a necessity with him.  Bethsany was 
somewhat relieved to see that even after three months the usual signs 
of abuse that Teltirray heaped upon his "charges" weren't as graphic 
on Aimee' as usual; either she was showing remarkable resilience to 
his advances or he really was holding back, probably hoping that 
between Darynn's magic and her training they would turn Aimee' into 
the perfect sex toy for Teltirray's vapid tastes.<P>
	"Now, then," Bethsany began after Aimee' had settled down into 
her seat.  "My object is to train you to be as good as any of the 
girls I have here.  That's not easy, you know."  She laughed.  "My 
girls are the very best in the city.  But we will do our best.  Now, 
I understand that it's been Darynn's way to tell you stories about 
himself, how he got his understanding and so on.  I plan on doing the 
same.  So listen closely, dearie, because I don't like repeating 
myself."<P>
<P>
	I was born the daughter of a nomad whore.  I don't mind saying 
that because it's completely true.  My mother was a good whore, too, 
and a woman devoted to her husband and her daughter.  We travelled 
around the southern continent on a tented wagon.  There were four 
wagons in our train and a total of seventeen people.  We didn't even 
have a name for ourselves, really; we were just "the people."  There 
were nine cities we visited on our course, the same course, year 
after year.  My father was a merchant trader and was very good at 
picking out what one city had that the next one down the line would 
need, even after a year's absence.  My mother, with her deep red 
skin, slanted eyes and straight, black hair, was exotic in many of 
the cities and men would flock to her like flies on butter.  Much the 
same they did with me many years ago.<P>
	We were a friendly bunch most of the time but we tended to take 
it very carefully on the road.  A good plan considering how many 
brigands there were out there interested in lightening our loads.  
The greatest travel we ever took was from Ticonary to Emti, a rough 
road through a mountain pass that usually took twenty days or 
thereabouts.  We weren't to know it, but in my thirteenth year the 
Maple Campaign to the North had driven a small tribe of barbaric 
Centaurs into the mountain range for refuge.  These were no gentle 
Centaurs of the upper valleys.  No, these were the Gespil Centaurs, 
small, strong, but magicless Centaur warriors who still sometimes 
plague the lands of the Maple region.<P>
	They fell upon us in our sleep.  Crossbows aimed with silent 
accuracy felled our menfolk before they could even shout a word.  It 
was a most silent brigandry.  More than half of our men were dead 
before an alarm was raised.  My mother fought them off, seizing 
father's sword and slashing at them.  It was to no avail; there were 
too many of them, too many warriors, and as she hacked at two who 
leapt and taunted her, one stepped up behind her and ran her through 
with his pike.  I shall never forget the look on her face as she died 
with her ribs pushed out by the spike erupting from her chest.  She 
was sad, sad for me.  She wanted to see me, twisted on the spike 
horribly to look at me as she fell.  When her body slumped to the 
ground the one who had killed her pulled the pike free, then turned 
and gave me a smile.  I hated him and his evil grin, I wanted to wipe 
it off his face and make him pay for my mother's death and I would 
wallow in his pain when I did.<P>
	"Take her!" he shouted, pointing at me.  "Alive!"<P>
	They did that.  Although I fought them, there was really no 
point to struggling with two male centaurs.  "Find a bench in one of 
these wagons.  I'm going to have me some fun."<P>
	I begged and pleaded.  Not that it did me much good.  When they 
found out I was a virgin, there was a roar of approval, as if it was 
all one big joke. Two found a wooden bench, torn from the seat of one 
of the wagons, and laid my mother's bedding over it.  It took four 
Centaurs to hold me, one for each arm and each leg, as they tore my 
clothes from me and laid me down on their platform.<P>
	Gespil Centaurs are not much larger than humans, Aimee'; they 
are usually a little under six feet tall, made more of ponies than 
full-size  horses.  Their penises-- I'm a professional, dear, I have 
to use the technical term-- are not much larger than a man's.  This 
one, their leader apparently, had a large penis even for his species.  
"Hold her down, dammit!" he shouted.  "I can't fuck her if she's 
flailing her feet about all over the place!"<P>
	The two holding my legs managed to get my knees pressed to my 
chest, holding my feet far apart I felt they would split me in two.  
The leader reared up on his hind legs, straddling my body.  He 
grinned down at me, his teeth showing in a snarl that befitted some 
demon more than he.  "You will like this," he said.<P>
	"May Agas and all his demons pass you about for their buggery!" 
I shouted at him.  Sorry, I don't mean to offend you, Aimee'.  I'm 
just trying to relate the story as it happened.<P>
	"I'm sure he will," he responded.  "But not today."  He lowered 
his enormous prick.  I felt it touch my thighs and screamed.  He 
merely smiled.  They must have some muscles to control it because 
with no hands he found my opening and battered at it, the head of his 
prick demanding entrance.  He pointed at one of his followers.  
"Grease us."<P>
	The other one smiled.  I felt a hand on my pudenda, touching me.  
I squirmed harder, but they held me fast, and as the hand pressed 
over my mound it left a streak of some thick, greasy substance.  Then 
the leader was back, his prick still hard as ever.  I felt the slick 
grease helping him, guiding him into me.  I felt my opening giving 
way.<P>
	The pain, Aimee', oh, the pain.  I shall never forget how awful 
that tearing agony was.  It blocked out thought as this Centaur 
blocked the sun from my eyes.  I screamed and flailed about.  In my 
struggle I tore my muscles.  Tears streamed my eyes.  The huge 
stallion prick in my cunt bucked and shoved and jammed as it 
stretched and tortured me.  He raped me wholly without remorse or 
shame.<P>
	I could do nothing.  His prick within me was a weapon, one I 
would someday remove from him in the most painful manner I could 
possibly imagine.  He repeatedly jabbed it into me, the snarl on his 
face-- so many feet away from my clawing hands!-- showing me his 
contempt.   I tried to return it, but my tears and pain were too 
much.<P>
	My body responded, Aimee'!  I understand now what happened, but 
at that time I felt the greatest betrayal as my cunt throbbed from 
his abusive prick.  I felt a pleasure in my being even as I cried, a 
pleasure that exploded in climax even as he dropped his scum within 
my helpless body.  "See?" he smiled as he slid off me.  "She likes 
it.  Take her.  I need a new maidservant.  We'll train her good."<P>
	The others laughed and nodded.  I learned my Master's name was 
"Styur."<P>
<P>
	I was thrown over the back of a horse, one of our horses that 
they had captured alive in the raid.  My crying was ignored, as was 
the blood of my deflowering streaming down my legs.  We rode on 
horseback for many miles.<P>
	We arrived at their camp, a collection of caves and huts housing 
maybe fifty Centaurs total.  I was there removed from the pack animal 
that carried me and led to his house.  "Uma!" Styur shouted.  "I have 
a gift for you.  She's difficult, but you can break her."<P>
	The door opened and a Centaur woman looked out.  Her face was 
ugly, the result of a burn I was to learn some time later.  Nor was 
her smile kind.  "She's pretty," she said.  "Yes, I'll do wonderful 
things with this one.  A worthy gift, Styur."  She turned to a box 
and pulled out a collar, such as one would fit a dog, and wrapped it 
around my neck.  It had once been white, but there were the brown 
stains of dried blood covering much of it.  "You see," she said to 
me, her foul breath washing over me, "The last toy we had misbehaved.  
We've not cleaned her things off since then.  That will be your 
task."<P>
	The lock on the collar was small and brass, but I could never 
break it.  Styur smiled as he regarded me.  "You will need to wash, 
Mosh."  I was to find out that "mosh" is a word in their language 
meaning "toy."  It was my new name.<P>
	I was consequently washed and then taken back to Uma and Styur's 
hut.  I was shown my sleeping cloths on the floor, then given a 
basket and told to collect the cloths scattered throughout the house 
and wash them.<P>
	I did as I was told.  I had no choice.  There was nowhere to 
run, nobody to feed me.  I was alone, the only slave alive in the 
Centaur camp, the plaything of their warrior-leader.  I was assured 
that they had others at time, but the war and their movements had 
caused them to lose most of their slaves.  I asked if those slaves 
had died on the trip.  "No," Styur replied, smiling.  "They were 
eaten."<P>
	The days and nights passed as winter came closer and closer.  I 
was taught to make the fire, to raise the heat, to cook for them.  
And every third night or so Styur would tie me down to his bench and 
have his way with me.  He was creative in his foul way, tying me face 
down and then placing bricks under one side of the bench to lift my 
buttocks into the air, making his entry easier.<P>
	I hated him.  And every time he raped me, I climaxed.  I drew my 
pleasure from hating him, from the knowledge that I could have this 
pleasure, that it was mine, it belonged to me, I made it despite him.  
He could never take it away from me without taking away his prick, 
his own pleasure at his human girl.  I would fight the biting ropes 
and scream and hate him.  He would sometimes gag me.  My fingers 
would strain, my wrists pulling against the cords, trying for some 
way to get free, as his prick fucked my cunt, rubbed my clit and made 
me come.  I would scream with anger and with pleasure.  <P>
	He would get off me and touch my face.  "See?" he would say.  
"You're starting to like me more and more."<P>
	I would curse him.  Once, I spat at him, and he slapped my face 
so hard a bruise welted up there that lasted for a week.<P>
	In my dreams I wished for a lover who would not abuse me.  Who 
would give me what I wanted in fair trade for what he wanted, who 
would stop when I wanted him to and who would ask me to stop when he 
didn't want to.  I doubted such men like that existed at all.  I 
sometimes still do, excepting Darynn, of course, who is too much a 
man's man to do me and my girls much good as a lover.  But still, 
there is much to learn from a man like him.<P>
	I dreamed of the day I would be close enough to another human to 
have the freedom to kill Styur.  I was surprised when that day came 
sooner than expected.<P>
	In my third month of capture the horror these people inflicted 
upon my family was returned a hundredfold.  During the first night of 
truly deep snows, the alarm arose in the camp, waking me from a 
sleep.  I slept with their dog for warmth and companionship; of all 
the creatures, she alone loved me for simple things.  I was kind to 
her.  Styur found that fitting, that his pets should sleep together.  
At first, I was disgusted by his train of thoughts; I was not his pet 
or his toy.  My need for warmth, friendship, and my desire to not 
reject this only friend won out, and I stayed next to her in the 
night.<P>
	I've strayed from the tale.  The alarm, yes.  Whistles awoke us 
all and Styur ran from his stone home, seizing his sword as he 
galloped out the door.  Shouts and screams erupted.  Some of the 
shouts I did not recognize, although they were all distinctly womanly 
in sound.  I waited  in the dark, hugging Huna-- that was the dog's 
name-- closely.  The sounds of battle rang out, the clanging of 
metal, the shouts and grunts of fighters.  The door fell in, and 
Styur collapsed onto the floor, four great arrows buried into his 
manchest, more on the rest of him.  He reached out for me, gasping.  
"Help me," I heard him say.<P>
	Help him?  I stood up, walked to him, pulled his short dagger 
from its sheath.  "I'll help you, all right.  Right into Hell."  I 
held it up and was about to plunge it into his heart when I stopped 
and reconsidered.  I remembered my pledge.  I walked around to the 
back of his body.<P>
	"No," I remember hearing him say.  "Don't."<P>
	I shoved the knife into his leg, slicing at the muscles that 
allowed him to kick.  He screamed, a painful thing that made me 
smile.  My hatred for him was absolute, complete.  I cared not the 
slightest for him.  The leg, now useless, I kicked up and out of my 
way,exposing his privates.  I grabbed his penis and balls in my hands 
and pulled them away from his body, wrenching them painfully.  He 
screamed trying to get away from me as I cut them loose from his body 
with the dagger.<P>
	Blood poured upon the ground and his body twitched and writhed. 
I dropped the contents of both my hands on the ground, then fell to 
the ground myself, sitting in the doorway, waiting while the snow 
fell on me in gentle, fat flakes.  After a while a shape, a human 
shape, stood over me, looking down at me.  "Have you done that?" she 
asked, pointing at the still-oozing carcass of Styur.  I didn't 
answer.  I couldn't.  I can't explain what was wrong with me, but it 
was simply that I didn't want to do anything, not even answer a 
simple 'yes' or 'no'.  She knelt down.  Her face, partially covered 
by the open-faced helm she wore, was hardened and covered with a 
stain of blood from her nose, but it had a smile that, for the first 
time in months, was genuine and lovely.  "I guess you did.  Come 
here."  As she spoke her breath streamed away in visible clouds into 
the night.  She touched my arm and suddenly I was freed of my  
paralysis.  I held onto her as if she was my last touch of life, my 
last hope of living.  I gripped her with my remaining strength.  She 
began to carry me away and Huna began to follow us.  "Shoo, dog," the 
woman said.<P>
	"Huna!" I said, pointing.<P>
	"What?"<P>
	"Huna!"<P>
	"Is Huna your friend?" the woman asked me.  <P>
	"Yes.  Bring Huna?"<P>
	She nodded.  "Okay, we'll bring her."  With her free hand she 
slapped her thigh.  "Come on, Huna.  You're a... girl.  Good."  She 
laughed.  "Come on, girl.  We're going to take you home."  She 
carried me to the edge of the camp where the rest of the troops had 
collected.  There she introduced me to my new life.<P>
<P>
	Bethsany sat back on her couch.  Aimee' had curled up into the 
corner of the couch, watching her carefully.  Although not a mage 
herself, she recognized the signs of idling power within the girl's 
delicate frame and wondered if the story had aroused Aimee' defenses.  
She hoped not.  "So," she said, taking a deep breath.  "Come, I want 
you to meet someone."<P>
	She rose and held out her hand.  Aimee' took it unsurely, and 
Bethsany whisked her out of the room and down the stairs.  "Meli!  
Meli, where are you, girl?"  The stairs ended in the girl's leisure 
room, a space Bethsany had set aside for the women to collect 
themselves and relax.<P>
	"Over here, Miss Beth."<P>
	"Oh, there you are."  She dropped off the steps and herded 
Aimee' in the direction of the tall, black-skinned girl with the wide 
smile and the sweet-smelling skin.  "Meli, I want you to meet Aimee'.  
Aimee', this is one of my favorite girls, Meli.  She is going to take 
you aside and teach you a few tricks that will certainly please your 
Master."  With that, she took Meli aside and whispered her 
instructions into the girl's ear while casting sidelong glances at 
Aimee'.<P>
	Meli finally nodded and walked back to Aimee's side.  They 
looked at each as if measuring, then Meli reached out a hand.  Aimee' 
took it and both let out a small sigh of tension.  "Hi," Aimee' 
said.<P>
	"Hi," Meli replied.  "Come on.  Let me take you in back and I 
will show you what you need."<P>
	Aimee' nodded and allowed Meli to lead her down another flight 
of stairs into what felt like a basement.  The room was warm, though, 
and comfortable.  The bright golden yellows and reds that 
predominated most of the upstairs gave way to softer pinks 
accentuating rich blues, comforting, feminine colors.  "This is where 
we relax in the daytime," Meli said.  "It's a safe corner for all of 
us."  The first room was little more than a hallway, leading off to 
other rooms with dubious contents.  "This way."<P>
	Meli led her down the hall and into another, small room.  This 
one had a bathtub of sorts inlaid in the center of the floor.  The 
tub, of white, smooth stone, was big enough to hold several women at 
once.  It had a spout in the shape of a serpent hovering over it.  
The mouth of the serpent caught Aimee's eye.  "Darynn, your teacher, 
made that for us.  It is a well-crafted <em>urnen</em>  a device for 
heating water to our whim."  Inside the tub was a strangely shaped 
chair, as if for sitting rather than for washing.  A rope hung down 
from the ceiling, crossing through a pulley there to another by wall, 
then down into the floor.<P>
	"This knob controls how strong the water is, this one how hot, 
and this lever..."  She grinned.  "This one controls where the water 
goes."<P>
	"Goes?"<P>
	"Get in.  Sit down and give it a try," Meli grinned.  Aimee' 
gave her a curious look, then shrugged and slipped out of her 
clothes, slipping into the water.  "Sit in the chair, that's it."  
The tawny, black-skinned girl undressed as well, sliding into the tub 
behind the chair.  "Now, the first part's always the toughest to get 
ready for.  Start the water flowing."  Aimee' looked over and found 
the one for pressure, giving it a quick turn.  "Lightly, girl!  
You'll never get used to it like that!" Meli admonished.  "Turn it 
low, right, like that.<P>
	"Now, reach over for the rope and pull on it."  Aimee' did as 
told.  The chair began to rise and tilt in the pool.  Her legs were 
slowly being raised out of the water, most of her body with it, until 
her mound and her head were just above the water.  The stream from 
the serpent's mouth was striking the water between her legs, a foot 
from her mound.  "Test it," Meli said.  "See if it's too hot."<P>
	Aimee' reached a hand out into the water.  "It's fine."<P>
	"Then take the lever and push it away from you.  It's a bit 
strange, but you'll get used to it."  Aimee' did as told and the 
water began moving closer to her mound.  "Just go on, Aimee', you'll 
like it."  Meli moved her hands slowly around the other's girl's 
body, her hands caressing Aimee's sides, touching her skin.  Aimee's 
chest rose, gasping, as Meli's hands reached around and touched her 
nipples at the same time the water ran up between her lips and 
touched her clitoris.  She squirmed and moved the lever, pushing the 
water off.<P>
	"Take it easy," Meli said.  "Some girls like it very hard, 
others like it very hot.  But we must all start out carefully."<P>
	Aimee' nodded and her fingers gripped the lever a little more 
tightly.  The mouth of the serpent, made of many carefully made 
plates of silver, moved slightly, directing the flow of water closer 
and closer to Aimee's cunny.  "That's it," Meli whispered in her ear, 
"That's it."  Aimee' felt her breasts flush and grow warm as Meli's 
fingers caressed them, pressing against her giving flesh.  Aimee's 
breath grew hoarse and ragged as the water played over her clitoris 
more and more forcefully.  Her fingers barely touched the lever, her 
hips grinding against the smooth material of the seat.  Meli wrapped 
her arms around Aimee's waist and held onto her, holding her down, 
waiting for the explosions to stop.<P>
	Much to Meli's surprise, they did not stop.  If anything, 
Aimee's moans grew louder, her buttocks pounding against the marble.  
The moans built  into a scream, and then Meli noticed that the room 
had become darker; the candles had gone out, and a wind was building.  
Even in as small a space as the bathtub the water become choppy, the 
air whistled and spun as Aimee's screamed.  "No!" Meli scrabbled for 
the knob in the dark, finding it with her fingertips, and turned off 
the water.  <P>
	The wind subsided.  Aimee's breathing, punctuated occasionally 
by moans, filled the room.  Finally even that grew quiet.  Meli, 
still more than a little frightened, whispered, "Aimee'?"<P>
	"Meli?" the reply came.  "Are you okay?"<P>
	"Frightened, but unharmed," Meli replied.<P>
	The door to the room flew open.  "What in the name of Agas is 
going on down here?"  Bethsany peeked into the room, looking around 
at the destruction.  "What happened."<P>
	"She... she started to come, madame, and then the whole room 
just started to come apart."<P>
	"Aimee'?"<P>
	"It was so... powerful.  Meli was touching me and the water was 
so strong... I couldn't help it!"<P>
	Bethsany rolled her eyes.  "I'm going to send you a message for 
Darynn, Aimee', that he's to teach you to keep your magic down when 
you're just having fun!"<P>
	"Yes, Ma'am."<P>
	"Now, Meli, I told you to show her a nice time, but you were 
also to teach her how to do her hair.  Now, get with it, get with 
it."<P>
	"Yes, madame," Meli replied, climbing out of the tub and handing 
Aimee' a towel.  "Come, Aimee', I will teach you how to be 
beautiful."<P>
 <P>
<hr>
<strong>Aimee'</strong>
<br>
is copyright 1991-1994 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.  May be distributed 
freely by electronic media; hardcopies are limited to single 
printings for personal use.
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