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masturbating shamelessly in a welter of jism and juice, her pleasure rising steeply even as dull pain came to her hole, then sharp, but she was coming, in blinding ecstasy even as her hymen burst to a cock already pumping sperm into the cavity beyond.

Chapter Two – Staive Cintes
    Iriel had lost all track of time. The nymphs had finished with her long before, and she had been lying in a jism sodden dream, masturbating lazily to make herself come over and over again to the thought of her ravishment and the smell of the bull-nymph’s musk. Only the tang of sea air brought her out of her daze, and the sharp jolt of shame as light flooded down on her soiled body brought her fully around.
    The hatch above her head had opened, to reveal a square of rich golden light and the head of the tall girl. Abruptly Iriel closed her thighs and slapped her hands to her breasts, blood rushing to her face at the realisation of just what she had done before fear hit her at the undoubted consequences.
    â€˜I… I could not help myself!’ she stammered. ‘I was not my choice! I was ravished! Please!’
    â€˜Be calm,’ the tall girl laughed, ‘and when you have quite finished playing with your tuppenny, come on deck. You will want a voice in the council we are taking.’
    Iriel didn’t answer, the girl’s calm, amused tone just too greatly at odds with the hysterical reaction she had expected. The scene on the quay came back, memory returned only slowly through the disabling haze of nymph musk. She managed a smile, remembering Kaissia and wondering if the tall girl was not herself shamed.
    â€˜Come,’ the girl said, reaching down, ‘let us have you out of there, or I’ll ravish you myself, the way that musk stinks.’
    Iriel climbed unsteadily to her feet, her skirts falling to cover her legs as she pulled her breasts back inside her well soiled bodice. Thoroughly embarrassed, also confused, she allowed herself to be pulled up onto the deck. The other girls stood about, Yi by the rail, Kaissia and the barbarian near the mast. Looking up, Iriel saw the little yellow-brown seamen, working in the rigging with frantic energy while another, richly dressed and elaborately coifed, was calling urgent orders from the sterncastle deck. Glancing out across the sea she saw the loom of Aegmund, with five black-hulled raiders lit bright by the falling sun. Sudden fear welled up, all the concerns pushed down by her musk induced lust returning, and worse. The tall girl laughed.
    â€˜We have the length on them, do not fear. Captain Baltrank states that Aeg sail design is clumsy and obsolete. From the way we have been drawing ahead from the very start of the chase I believe him.’
    â€˜Captain Baltrank?’ Iriel queried.
    The tall girl jerked her thumb towards the man on the deck above them.
    â€˜While you have been amusing yourself with the cargo, we up here have been about the business of departing Aegerion without first being dipped in pig dung and put to troll cock.’
    New blushes rose to Iriel’s face at the crude words, but the tall girl merely laughed, then spoke again.
    â€˜I am Aeisla, born an artisan in the barony of Korismund on the northern borders of Aegmund but now a Reeveling. Here is Cianna, from the backlands, there Kaissia who you evidently know. Beyond is Yi, the daughter of a dung-gatherer and presumably also known to you?’
    â€˜Yes,’ Iriel answered, awe flooding over her as she realised who she was talking to. ‘You are Aeisla, truly, of the three sagas?’
    â€˜I am,’ the tall girl answered, ‘and Cianna was with me in Makea. She is now my maid.’
    Iriel could only manage a dumb nod, then looked to the other girls. Kaissia had been washed, and was dressed in a petticoat and chemise considerably too large for her, presumably Aeisla’s. Yi was also clean, but retained her ragged dress, now more soiled and torn than before.