|
Karab The Slave Girl
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Karab looked down at the slave girl kneeling before him.
She knelt straight with her knees wide apart and her head bowed.
He liked this one. She was tall and strong and mastering her
made him feel as if he was bigger than she was. In actuality,
Karab barely topped five and a half feet, in addition to being
heavy. His silk robes were tailored to hide his weight, but
usually they only succeeded in making him look fatter. The rings
he wore, mostly for magical protection, and the heavy perfumed
oil he used in his hair and thin beard made him seem effeminate
at first glance. But, as Rhea and a very few others now living
could attest, his mind was steel hidden beneath the perfume and
silk.
Right now, as she knelt before him, Rhea wondered what the
mind was plotting. Karab was cruel for the sake of cruelty. She
usually managed to endure his attentions during the New Year
celebration, and her master's birthday celebration. The ruler of
Pergamum visited only seldom, finding the delights of Dark Hold
shabby compared to those of his home city.
"You evaded me last night, slave," Karab said. Rhea found
his high pitched nasal voice annoying but managed to keep from
flinching. She did not object to men whose voices fell naturally
in the higher range, Snow Wolf's had been almost as high as hers,
which was low for a woman's, but she found the affectation
grating. "I'm afraid that means I will have to punish you
tonight, my dear. Don't worry, I have your master's full
permission to do as I see fit. Lie down by the three rings in
the floor."
The guest room in the guard tower was not as opulant as the
suites, and had far more restraint devices, since it was
sometimes used as a spare cell when the dungeon was full. The
rings were spaced about four feet apart and set into the stone
floor. Rhea hastened to obey, hoping he would be merciful.
Karab, after some rummaging in the wardrobe, and in a chest
he had brought, proceded to chain her wrists to the ring above
her head. He threaded a choke-leash about her throat, above the
collar and drew it tight. Rhea coughed and tried to catch her
breath. He gagged her with a wadded strip of cloth held in by a
second. He took a pole, set with a manacle at each end, and,
threading it through the lowest ring, pulled her down to lock her
ankles in the irons. Rhea blessed her father for giving her an
almost six foot height. Wrapping another chain around her body,
he threaded it through the ring near her back, holding her almost
immobile.
Placing the keys tantalizingly out her reach, he reached
back into the trunk and removed a glass jar, holding a large
toad. Rhea's eyes grew large as he moved between her wide-spread
legs.
"You don't like my pet?" Karab asked in mock-hurt tones.
His comically sad face twisted into a sadistic leer. "Perhaps
the two of you should get acquainted, while I'm at the dinner."
He removed the squirming creature from its jar and forced it into
the helpless slave girl. Rhea felt the acid burn a track up her
throat, but, unable to spew it out, she was forced to swallow
hard. Wrapping another piece of cloth tightly around her legs
and hips, preventing the toad's escape, he left. "I will return
in a few hours slave girl. Be prepared to serve my pleasure."
Rhea lay on the floor in torment. The chains were too
tight, and she knew she would bruise. The loathsome feeling of
the animal fighting in the cramped space made her ill. The only
worse sensation was feeling it grow weaker and weaker until it
quit moving. She knew it had suffocated. The feeling of lying
chained on her back, with a dead toad inside of her was repulsive
and she put the thought from her mind.
Distracting herself, she thought back a few weeks to the
first night her master had summoned her after her punishment. It
had been glorious, and she remembered how much she had loved him.
He had trusted her enough to allow her to perform slightly
dangerous intimate actions upon his body, and now he had loaned
her to a jaded pervert from Pergamum. She saw the wisdom of his
action, realizing that she was the only one who had the stomach
for this kind of treatment. Even now, in her docile state,
Chandra would not have taken it. None of the others could
satisfy this man unscathed. There was little Karab could do that
she had not already survived. The Satyr's Delight in Diebe had
taught her endurance and the Chained Collar in Ellanya had given
her the high pain threshold.
Lost in her musing on the past, Rhea was startled to see
Karab returning. She had vauguely heard the night bell sound two
times since he left, but was surprised to see him back so soon.
"No, my dear, dinner is not over," he tittered. It was an
obscene sound coming from a man so large. "I merely wished to
see how well acquainted you two were. I excused myself from
listening to the singer." He unwrapped the cloth from her hips
and placed a fat ringed hand inside of her. Her body, not meant
for such abuse, complained and tears began down her cheeks.
"There we are." He pulled the amphibious corpse out of her.
She visibly relaxed, but was overcome with the urge to retch
again. "Wretched girl, you've killed him!" Karab shrieked.
"That will have to be punished. But, I am feeling lenient. I
will give you some pleasure before the pain begins." He rummaged
in his trunk and came up with an oddly shaped iron rod. When
he brought it closer, she could see that it was indeed iron,
formed into the shape of a phallus, but one that was cleft in the
middle as a snake's tongue. Each side was formed complete, with
its own head. She looked puzzled and frightened.
"I thought by now you would be accustomed to this shape.
You frequent the bed of a demon, is that not true?" Without
waiting for an answer, he continued. "Is not your master formed
like this, even to the iron?" He ignored the frantic shaking of
her head. "Every noble in the Empire knows our good Emperor is
from the lower planes, either a minion, or perhaps the Destroyer
himself, taken mortal guise. It is said the Lord Vendan walked
Ellassa in human form once long ago. The stars have lately
indicated a massive supernatural upheaval and the balance sways
into darkness. He has returned, has He not? And you, lucky
slave, are His favorite." Rhea shook her head frantically,
wishing he would remove the gag. The iron did not look painful,
but she would not hear her master slandered.
Continuing to ignore her, Karab finished his lecture on
demonology and proceded to thrust the iron rod into her. It was
cold and painful, but she had endured larger, since it was
probably modeled on Karab's own, which was small-average, and
worse. She could tolerate this.
"That will be there when I return, or you will suffer the
consequences," he told her, turning to return to his dinner.
Rhea was right, the iron was not as bad as the toad had
been. She lay quietly and thought about what Karab had said.
She was surprised to learn that her master was considered a
demon, in the literal sense, by some of his nobility. This could
be good or bad. She wondered if he realized this, and then
considered that he probably did. As she reflected on what she
knew of him, she came to understand how some of them could
believe such a thing. Karab had told her that the stars were
showing massive upheaval. Perhaps that was why she could feel a
change in her Power. It had never been great enough to train,
but there was a warning tingle, like that of the coal imbedded in
the flesh of her shoulder, that told her of something coming.
After the fourth tolling of the night bell, Karab returned,
looking satisfied and full. He knelt beside her and removed the
gag. Swallowing hard, she managed not to vomit from the
remainder of the nausea.
"You are a lovely thing. If His Majesty ever favors me
enough to give you to me, instead of merely loaning, I could find
so many more interesting diversions. You would die of course, my
dear, but only after I am through with you. Who knows, you may
last an entire month."
Rhea closed her eyes and gave the ritual response, "If that
would please you, Master," she managed through dry tongue and
lips. The cloth had left a foul taste in her mouth.
Karab began unlocking her chains. He removed the iron rod.
She pulled herself to a kneeling position, ignoring the fact that
there was blood on her thighs from his rings, and he had left the
choke-leash on. He began to divest himself of the food and wine-
stained silk robes. Stripping off all but two of his rings, he
stood before her, after wrapping himself in a violet silk
bathrobe.
Taking hold of the choke-leash, he pulled her head up to
face him. "You know what I want now. And, my dear, you know
what will happen if I feel the slightest scrape from your teeth."
He tugged just hard enough that she coughed.
"Yes, Master." For good measure, she added, "Your whim is
my law." Another ritual phrase, this time one she had learned at
the Scarlet Lily. She remained kneeling and opened the front of
the robe with gentle hands.
Engulfing him with her mouth, she felt the first stirring of
blood in the organ. Gently she stroked it to fullness and then
ran her tongue in light flicks across the tight skin on the
underside of the head. An impatient tug on the leash told her to
get on with the procedure. A few prefunctionary licks at the
hanging sac and she moved on between his legs. Long strokes
brought her to the back sphincter. Biting back her repulsion,
she began to probe with her tongue, trying to ignore the clots
that hung in the dark hairs nearby. The foul taste filled her
mouth, yet she persisted, hoping at least to put him in a
pleasant enough mood to spare her any more punishment.
Above her, she felt his bulk tremble and heard a sigh.
Apparently, he was pleased or else she would soon end with a
mouth full of his dirt. He had done that once, released his
bowels into her mouth. She had vomited hard and repeatedly,
until she dry-heaved into the stone well in the corner. He had
lost all interest in her and returned her to the harem unused
that time. He had also complained to her master about her
ineptitude. She had been sent to the dungeon, pending his
departure, and placed in a common cell. Quarg had taught her not
to displease Karab. After he had left, her master had questioned
her about the incident. Knowing not to lie, she told the truth
and had been surprised when he had paled a bit. She was quickly
forgiven and returned to the harem.
Another tug on her leash told her it was enough. The damp
patch on her lower back told her she had successfully satisfied
him. There would be more abuse, no doubt, but she bore up under
the thought that this was her bad duty, and the rest of the
celebrations should be pleasant enough.
"You are talented, my dear. So much better than the lad I
have to do that at home. He and my favorite girl take turns at
it, seeing who can last the longest without gagging. One mouth
is like another, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master," she answered rather
thickly.
"Here, wipe your face, my dear," he said handing her a scrap
of a rag. She took it to the basin, and surreptitiously rinsed
her mouth a time or two as she clensed her face. Her face clean,
although there was still a bad taste in her mouth, she walked
back and knelt in front of Karab.
"Now what shall I do with you?" Karab asked, more to himself
than Rhea. He wandered over to the trunk and rummaged again. He
returned with a length of chain, a small crock, and a single
bladed whip. He kicked the rug aside, uncovering the lower ring,
and removed the hanging globe of witch-light from the hook in the
ceiling.
Rhea came when she was beckoned and stretched for the
ceiling. Karab, standing on a chair, wrapped her wrists in the
chains and hung her from the ceiling. As she watched, he rubbed
the whip with some oil from the crock.
"Every time you whimper, yelp or scream, my dear, I will ram
this whip up your hot little gash. That should only make it
hotter. You see, up north, they have this lovely plant called
the pepper. I have it cultivated in a hothouse back home, and
the oil it makes is quite the rage at the houses that cater to a
more refined clientele. The fruit is quite spicy to eat, and the
oil burns any of the more delicate membranes it contacts. This
is your punishment for avoiding me last night, my dear."
Neither keeping verbal count himself, nor making her count
the blows, Karab began to beat the girl. The whip was slender,
and on more than one occasion broke the skin. He had not lied
about the oil. Where her back was cut, it burned like fire, and
she had not been able to contain her cry. The handle of the whip
entered her, again as promised, the oil making it burn horribly.
She sobbed again, and the handle thrust into her again, hard and
deep.
Regaining her control, Rhea begged, "Please, Master.
Forgive a slave girl's foolishness. The first night you are in
court I am yours, save if my master claims me. Please."
"You have learned one lesson, slave girl, now about my
little froggy friend..." He struck her again. Fortunately,
Karab was given to decadence and had little use for strenuous
exercise. The cuts were not deep and should heal quickly, but
the pepper burned beyond endurance. Rhea heard the night bell
toll again. Karab was breathing heavily from the unaccustomed
exertion.
"I think that should be enough, my dear. Remember, the
first night is mine. I must rest a moment, and think."
Placing the handle of the whip inside her, after a fresh
coat of oil, He tied her thighs together with the blade. Tears
were rolling freely and she gasped for breath in short cries.
After resting a moment, he picked up the large beeswax
candle and brought it over to her. It was lit and a puddle of
molten wax had formed in a well. He held it in front of her and
began to pour the hot wax down onto the well-shaped breasts,
concentrating especially on the sensitive nipples.
Already crying, there was little other form of expression
Rhea could use. She hung her head and turned her face away.
Having created a thick layer of wax on her body, most of it
in interesting patterns if he did say so himself, Karab set the
candle back down. "I think you have learned your lesson, my
dear." He unhooked her chained wrists from the hook and let her
down. She remained standing straight, since he had not given her
permission to move. "On your belly at my feet," he finally
commanded.
Moving awkwardly with the whip still tied inside of her,
Rhea dropped first to her knees and then to her belly. The
carpet pressed the still-warm wax harder onto her skin. She felt
the large K he had drawn across her chest, the wax tightening as
it began to harden. He untied the whip and drew it out of her.
A faint hope rose. Perhaps this time he would be merciful and
use her normally.
The hope was crushed by the weight of him settling on her
open back. She knew the process. First would be some probing at
the front opening and then the ripping sensation at the back.
Knowing it would hurt less if she relaxed, she tried to think of
more pleasant things, like the butterflies in the garden, how
pretty Gold-lily had looked in the green silks this morning, and
other pleasant thoughts. It helped some.
Then came the rending thrust at the back, with no
forewarning. Rhea stifled a scream into the rug. Clenching her
teeth on a corner of it, she tried to inflict her pain on
something other than her body. She was torn open and it hurt and
burned at the same time.
The pain lessened only slowly; his thrusts came in deep
harsh bursts. Finally it was enough for him, and there was a
crushing sensation of his weight upon her, with the vile smell of
his oiled hair mingling noxiously with the heavy spice perfume he
had requested on her.
Withdrawing, he stood up, and went to the basin.
Fastidiously cleaning himself, although she had left no residue,
he wrapped the robe back around him and stood in front of her.
"I have had enough of you, my dear. You may return to the
harem, and reflect upon what you have learned. You proved most
satisfactory, as usual."
"Thank you, Master," she said softly as she stood. He
closed the door after watching her until she was out of sight.
The marks on her back enhanced her greatly, and the thin pale red
stream that was slowly creeping down the back of her thigh was
most arousing.
He returned to the room, hung the witchlight globe back on
its hook, and began plotting what to do to the girl tomorrow, if
there was one. If not, young Filgar would serve nicely when he
got home.
______
|
|
