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attendant. “Merilda, fetch a pair of the training benches.”
    From a closet Merilda dragged a pair of benches of a curious design. They had upper and lower sections. The lower section was for kneeling. The upper section had a flat padded top that angled toward the floor. Morgaine commanded the girls to kneel across the devices. With their torsos flat on the upper sections, their buttocks were raised to a position of prominence. Juliet could see immediately that the posture was perfect for administering a whipping or for anything else to be visited on their backsides. Juliet shook her head in disbelief when she saw what happened next.
    A broad strap was fastened across each girl’s back by Merilda and their wrists were locked in cuffs, low on the bench in front. The men moved behind the young women and loosed erections that had arisen once again in contemplation of new pleasures to be had. Both men guided their stiff cocks to the rear entrances of the girls’ bottoms. The girls shifted uncomfortably as they felt the presence of the men’s cocks nestling in the crevices of their bottom cheeks. Juliet saw Feyd spit and rub the spittle over the head of his prick before placing it at Thora’s rear orifice.
    “We use the benches as training devices,” said Morgaine casually. “Once they get used to it, there is no need.”
    Juliet watched transfixed as the men thrust roughly with their stiff cocks. The girls squirmed, but were chided by Morgaine to relax as they had been taught. When the men were in to the hilt, they started a slow rhythm, alternately thrusting and withdrawing, while the objects of their desires moaned at the shame to which they were being subjected. Limbs quivered, necks arched back, and muscles were tensed as the two maidens tried to cope with the invasion of their most secret places.
    It was an awful sight for Juliet to behold. So this was what the dreaded training regimen was all about—learning to pleasure a man in every way imaginable and accepting punishment if it was not perfect. Juliet had seen all she wanted to see. She had to get out of here before they were done, and it seemed like a good time to leave while they were all so preoccupied. She slipped quietly out of the observation room and made her way back down the way she had come.

Chapter Nine
     
     
    Not much escaped the watchful eye of Rand LaFlors. The tall, rangy outlaw hid in the shadows, nearly invisible, and watched the girl on horseback pick her way along the creek. Rand could tell she was a good horsewoman—and that the horse she was riding was a fine animal. It would make a very nice addition. He didn’t have that many horses, and his band could certainly use another. As for the girl, well, maybe he’d find a use for her, too. She looked a bit out of place. The plain clothing marked her as a mere servant girl. If that were the case and she’d stolen that horse, she was in big trouble indeed.
    At any rate, the girl was a rare beauty. Young, about twenty or so, she had the face of an angel and long, flowing red hair. It seemed odd to LaFlors. Wasn’t she that girl from Kern, the one who lived with the sisters? He decided that she was. Then what was she doing on a horse headed deeper into Darkwood Forest, seemingly all in a panic? No one rode headlong into Darkwood Forest. Not even Morgaine’s men, at least not alone. Morgaine. The mere thought of that witch made Rand grind his teeth.
    The girl cast worried glances over her shoulder and attempted to spur her mount along, her movements bearing the look of someone in flight. She’s running from something, thought Rand. If she thought to throw her pursuers off track by going down the creek, it wasn’t working, because Rand could hear hoof beats in the distance. Riders were approaching. Soon they rode up right next to him, but he was concealed and they never saw him.
    There were three of them. The red livery identified them as Morgaine’s men. They would be on her in minutes,