Glade and Ivory
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2013 by Bradley Stoke

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 8 - This is the story of the shaman, Glade, and her apprentice, Ivory. It is the tale of two women's lives in Ice Age Europe and Africa. Life in the Ice Age isn't easy. It isn't only due to the frozen climate in which Mammoths and Cave Lions thrive where humans struggle to survive. There are people from the Mammoth Hunters' tribe and beyond who are keen to take advantage of a shaman from another land and an apprentice who is as yet innocent of the ways of the world.

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   Slavery   Gay   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Historical   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Interracial   Black Female   Black Male   White Male   White Female   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Caution   Violence   Nudism  

Glade kissed her young lover on the lips while Chief Cave Lion slumped on his back exhausted. A thin thread of semen trailed from his penis into the tangle of Ivory's pubic hair. Now that Ivory had discovered her lover's infidelity, Glade was actually rather more affectionate to her ward even when she was being fucked by the Chief.

"You have become a more accomplished lover," mused Chief Cave Lion. He tenderly kissed Ivory's pale thigh and cupped a buttock in a gnarled hand.

"You have taught me well, my lord," said Ivory loyally.

" ... As has the shaman," said the Chief. "Although of the two of you, it is the shaman who is the more expert and the most confident lover, you are the one who benefits from the blessing of youth and are therefore to be preferred."

Ivory could see from her face that Glade didn't relish the Chief's remark and this provided the younger woman with a small amount of satisfaction. Ivory knew she had to accept the ways of the shaman. There was no other tepee in which she could sleep and it was unthinkable that she should abandon her apprenticeship. She hadn't forgiven Glade but there was no other shoulder on which she could rest her head.

"The Reindeer Herders are due to cross our path within two or three days," continued the chief. "We have mostly completed our preparations to welcome them in a style that honours them and brings us no shame. We have intoxicants. Our hunters are in pursuit of mammoth and other game to feed our guests. The musicians are practising on their instruments. But there is one gift we are as yet unable to provide."

"And what is that, my lord?" Glade asked as she caressed the Chief's now shrunken penis which when erect had thrust into her as many times as it had Ivory.

"The chief of the Reindeer Herders should be honoured by the pleasures of the flesh as he would so honour me. As I have no marriageable daughter to give away and there is no one else suitable in the village, it behoves me to ask you and your apprentice to provide the chief and his closest relatives with the carnal relief he expects. As the apprentice has the more succulent flesh, it is she who has the most pressing duty to fulfil."

Ivory gasped in dismay. "Do I have to offer my body to the Reindeer Herders, my lord?" she asked in the hope that she'd misunderstood him.

"It is a duty as necessary as any other," the Chief explained. "It would be unseemly for our village to disappoint our guests. But worry not. Should you become pregnant, I shall treat the child as if it were my own."

This was scant consolation to Ivory, who burst into tears as soon when the Chief departed. "I've become nothing but a fuck toy!" she moaned to Glade who put a comforting arm about her bare shoulders.

"It is the way of the world," said the shaman.

"Is this a service you've ever provided?"

"Not in this way," Glade mused, "but in former years I regularly made love to strange men to provide for myself. A woman wandering alone in the world needs do what she must to stay alive. Indeed, it is a service offered by many travelling women amongst the people of the southern valleys."

"It's not what how I would wish it to be," Ivory sniffed. "Is there nothing else I can do?"

"While you live in this village," said Glade with a sad smile, "what the Chief wishes is what you must do."


For the rest of the day, the shaman and her apprentice supervised the preparation of entertainments for the Reindeer Herders. Several villagers were rehearsing on musical instruments they'd made from wood and hide. Amongst these were a set of hollow reeds through which a player could blow air and generate a high-pitched tone that could be modulated by small holes carved into its stem, but most instruments were of a percussive nature that could be slapped on by the musicians' open palms or struck with sturdy sticks. Glade rehearsed songs whose lyrics were mostly improvised, but whose melodies she'd learnt from distant tribes in her travels.

"Did the Knights of the Savannah have songs such as these?" Ivory asked.

"Not really," said Glade. "They relied on the slaves to sing songs, which they insisted should be sung in the Knights' tongue and which had to be adapted to what was relevant to their culture and religion."

"Did you have to fuck many men as I will have to do?" wondered Ivory who addressed the matter uppermost in her mind.

"The only man who fucked me in the years I was a slave was Lord Valour," Glade said. "But it was from his conversations with Lady Demure that I learnt the most. My anus was not then, any more than it is not now, the orifice whose violation affords me the most pleasure."

Glade's interest in what the chief had to say was greatest when he was distressed and sought his wife's advice. This was especially so when slave rebellions broke out amongst the other villages of his tribe. At first, he expressed only indignation that the slaves were so disloyal and satisfaction in the severity of the measures taken against them.

"Lord Courage decreed punishment on the rebels in his village so severe that only ten slaves were left alive and each of these had an eye or ear removed," Lord Valour boasted. "The rebels' blood flowed so freely that Lord Courage's wife, Lady Trust, could bathe in them. Some rebels' agonies were prolonged beyond the day by having the villains skewered on stakes. That will be a fine example to other slaves who might be tempted to overthrow the divine order."

Lord Valour was rather less sanguine when a rebellion many leagues distant resulted not in its successful crushing but rather by the unprecedented slaughter of all the brave Knights of that village.

"It is said that the village chief, a cousin of the King himself, was slaughtered like a common warthog. His eyes were gouged out, his tongue was sliced off and his corpse lashed to an eland where it was found several days later on the weary animal's back."

"And his wife, Lady Loyal?" wondered Lady Demure who was no less disturbed by the news than her husband. "What happened to her?"

"No one knows. The reports we've received have come only from those Knights who escaped the carnage, but they tell of rape and retribution of a most savage kind. I doubt very much that she'd have survived. I doubt that any of the women and children of the village still live. But soon, when the King and his Barons descend on the rebel village, we shall extract confessions from the scum before their deserved execution and we shall know all that has befallen. The King's revenge shall surely be as terrible as the enormity of their crimes deserve."

Glade and her two fellow slaves strained their ears to hear the details of the Lord Valour's account. This news brought great hope to Glade who wished only evil on her captors. When their mistress at last left the hut, no doubt to discuss the news with her friends, the three slaves broke out in smiles and nervous cheers.

"If rebellion can succeed in one village," said Mimosa with the hugest grin Glade had ever seen on her face, "then surely it can succeed here."

"But what if it doesn't succeed?" asked a tremulous Quagga. "We know how cruel the Knights can be. They will torture and kill us most cruelly. You know what they do when there is the smallest provocation. Remember the fate of Impala."

Quagga was referring to the death of a female slave who'd become pregnant. Her punishment was to have her stomach sliced open. She was left to die after the foetus was pulled out and smashed against the rocks, even though it was rumoured that the father had been a Knight who'd raped her and, contrary to tradition, had abused her vagina rather than her anus.

"It is better by far to die an honourable death than to live a dishonourable life," said Mimosa with no sympathy at all for Quagga's fears.

A few days later, a body of Knights from the village were consigned to join the King's army to suppress the revolt in the rebel village. Lord Valour was initially eager to join his fellow warriors, but Lady Demure advised him otherwise.

"It is fine and noble to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the King," said Lady Demure, "but you should follow His Majesty's example. He has chosen to stay at home in his village rather than accompany his noble Knights. It could be that he has designs himself on the estate of those lords who perish in the conflict and will use the excuse of this incident to bolster his power at the expense of those who don't return."

"Not one Knight will die in the sack of the rebels' village," Lord Valour asserted. "It will be a glorious victory."

"The slaves may be emboldened by the one success and there may be yet more rebellions," said Lady Demure firmly. "With so many Knights engaged in struggle elsewhere might not the slaves of our own village take advantage of your absence and also be tempted to rebel? Your duty should surely be in the suppression of rebellion closer at home than in a far off village a moon and a half's march away."

"There is no other village where rebellion has succeeded," said Lord Valour.

"That is no doubt because the Knights of those villages have chosen to stand firm rather than abandon their women and children," said Lady Demure. "There have been other insurrections in the past, as well you know, amongst our tribe's villages and it is only because they have been made secure from within by the efforts of our valiant Knights that there have not been more disasters."

"My honour is at stake," said Lord Valour miserably.

"Then send Barons Peerless and Resolute who besides being your most senior lieutenants are also those most covetous of your status," said Lady Demure. "This will flatter the King who wishes to see the bravest warriors do battle in defence of his realm and may relieve you of those most likely to threaten your rule if the outcome of battle is that yet more valiant warriors should die. Remember that it is by death in battle rather than on the sickbed that the succession in our village has been most often decided."

Lord Valour left the hut angrily and no less resolved to answer his King's call to arms. However, the flaring up of a mostly forgotten battle-scar provided sufficient reason several days later for him to make his excuses and dispatch the Barons suggested by Lady Demure to do battle. This change of mind might well have been influenced by reports of two other villages, scattered widely apart in the Knights' Kingdom, where the slaves' rebellion had been as successful as in the first and where the Knights were murdered just as viciously. As the lord confided to his wife, a messenger was able to confirm the slaughter in one of these villages by the sight of scalps scattered on nearby bushes and trees.

"Not one child or woman was spared," the lord confessed.

Lady Demure nodded, but did not remind him of her earlier day's advice. She preferred her husband's decision to remain in the village to appear to be one made by him alone.

The decision as to which slave was chosen as an auspicious sacrifice for the warriors' departure to what was now one of four rebel villages was made rather too easily. Baron Glory, a Knight who'd elected to stay with the village rather than join the expedition, was murdered by his slave. Rock Baboon originally came from Mimosa's tribe and had been infected by the excitement spreading through the village's slaves on news of the distant rebellions' success. When his master commanded the slave to submit to his nightly fuck, Rock Baboon not only refused the honour but strangled the Baron with his bare hands. The ritual torture and disembowelling of the treacherous slave during the feast that heralded the warriors' departure was the cruellest yet devised. It was particularly unpleasant in that the Baron's other male slaves who had been so slow in intervening were forced to eat his entrails while he was still alive.

Nevertheless, there was a strangely sober atmosphere amongst the Knights after this ritual. Such a bloodthirsty ceremony would normally leave them cheerful and celebratory. The Knights retired to their huts relatively early, as did Lady Demure with her three slaves. Glade dreaded that her mistress should deliver a homily on loyalty to her slaves. She knew that Mimosa was unlikely to respond as meekly as she once would have done. Her fellow slave had been close to mutinous in the last few days and in private had speculated endlessly to Glade and Quagga on the implications of the outbreak of rebellion. Slave revolts were scarcely new but successful ones were rare and easily suppressed. Mimosa had never heard of a rebellion that had spread so fast to so many villages. Glade wondered whether Mimosa would respond to a lecture on the virtue of obedience with quite the tact and diplomacy she normally displayed. She'd already expressed pride that it was a man from her village who'd murdered the Baron.

 
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