cxslave
Chain Slave
As promised here is chapter one of my still continuing saga! I have so many people to thank and so many influences from all my reading here and at the foundation. I think everyone knows who they are by now.
This first chapter is kind of boring I know, but stick around and after an acceptable period of thread drift I will post more.
Trust me we will get to where we all want to go very soon.
I did my best to check for grammar and literary mistakes but remember I am freshly out of college and quite frankly am not too concerned with things of that nature any longer! Of course criticism is greatly appreciated and please don't hesitate to fire away!
Also if you are jealous that you have not appeared yet, don't be too disappointed. We have a very long way to go and lot's of characters to introduce. The next chapter will se a shift in view point. Keep in mind this in very much a prologue really. Also forgive the lack of indents, I couldn't figure out how to put them in.
Hope everyone enjoys!
The Lost Chronicle
Ch. 1
The Midwestern sun beat down harshly on the woman as she trudged across campus towards her cramped office. Her thick, shoulder length brown hair was limp and sticky from the heat and humidity of the early September day. The once crisp blouse had quickly soaked through with sweat both from the weather and her frantic dash to the room where she was to teach a class forced on her by a merciless bureaucratic system. A system created by lazy professors that determined research project leaders must teach a minimum number of credits per semester. “Even if those research project leaders are introverted freaks who can’t even speak over the phone, let alone teach a room full of ass-hole grad students with something to prove every damn class,” she thought cynically as another academic year opened rather inauspiciously
In her rush to make sure her preparation was complete and she was mentally fortified to face the smug glares and arrogant voices of the graduate as they peppered her with “gotcha” questions; the time had slipped by unnoticed. By the time she remembered to look up at the clock she was hopelessly late. The resultant chaos of throwing various teaching materials into her bag and a desperate jog across campus to the only non-air-conditioned building left on the historic campus left her standing outside the classroom door four minutes late and soaked with a very un-scholarly coating of sweat that wasn’t going anywhere in the humidity of the ancient building. “Fucking typical, just fucking typical,” she muttered under her breath as she walked through the door.
The first day ritual of syllabus reading and introductions had followed, all the time she was acutely aware of the lusty stares from the men and the pissed looks of the women at her now visible bra under her now almost translucent white blouse. Grateful for the smallish class size and lack of apparent troublemakers she had begun to wrap it up and organize her things when a distinctively snooty and bitchy voice rang out: “Professor?” “Fucking suck ups,” she thought as she answered in a voice that belied her inner anger. “I’m not a prof everybody, you can just call me Barb. Yes?” When she looked up at the owner of the voice however any further words that came out from one of the most sensuous mouths Barb had ever seen were barely heard. Barb had to struggle to compose herself as she was confronted by a vision of rare beauty. “How the hell did I not notice her!” she thought as she struggled to keep her eyes away from the pale skin of her cleavage displayed by the tight tee shirt. The slightly freckled skin was a fair shade betraying an obvious Celtic heritage. Forcing her eyes up from the strongly formed legs displayed casually by a pair of athletic shorts and past the delicate curve of her hips to an obviously tightly muscled and firm abdomen under her clinging shirt, she was confronted by a piercing set of emerald eyes which left her mouth practically hanging open.
Any hope that the girl had not noticed the ogling was dashed as she gave Barb a slightly less obvious once over as the question was answered. It was not a secret that Barb preferred the company of women, but she did her best to keep her proclivities ambiguous while teaching in order to remain unbiased. That was not going to happen with this girl as she coyly re-crossed her legs while taking a note after giving Barb a knowing glance. “No way she isn’t straight,” Barb chided herself in an attempt to break free from her fantasizing as the class filed out. “She just wants an easy A.” The girl was the last one out of the room and as she walked toward her desk Barb was surprised how she towered over the petite girl. This did not compute with the seemingly visible power and confidence that surrounded her. Standing face to face with the girl also reinforced how powerful and strong the girl’s compact body was. “I really look forward to the rest of the semester with you Barb” was the girl’s only words as she pinned Barb to the spot with those hypnotic eyes. Then they slid slowly slid down to stare pointedly through her revealing blouse to her inexplicably heaving chest. She felt her face burn as she realized her panties were not soaked because of the humidity.
The top of the girl’s head passed under her nose as she slid unnecessarily close to Barb on her way out. The intoxicating scent wafting from her oh so natural, red hair which was cropped perfectly at the level of her high and defined cheek bones, almost caused her to lose her voice again. She finally managed to croak out, “I didn’t catch your name!” as the girl walked through the door. Turning knowingly and giving a knee quaking smirk, she answered in her clear and firm voice: “You can call me Connie.” Barb could barely get out a hoarse: “thanks, see you next week.” Watching the girl’s impossibly firm ass wiggle around the corner, Barb leaned exhausted against the desk. “Fuck it….this’ll be the easiest class she’s ever had,” Barb admitted to herself as she gathered her things while trying to ignore the lust soaking the crotch of her pantyhose and running slowly down her inner thighs.
While the run to class had been panicked and hurried, the trip back was slow and depressing as Barb imagined the impossibility of the small goddess in her graduate class being even the least bit interested in her. She trudged on as her the sweat ran down her face toward the prison cell that was her office. Hoping not to attract attention, Barb slinked through the building to the basement where she spent most of her time when not in meetings with her research group.
“Hey Barb!” She stiffened as the hated voice of the department’s administrative assistant cut through the air. “Hey, what’s up?” Barb said through gritted teeth at the woman whose apparently only job was to judge her lifestyle and sexual preference. “I put a package for you on your desk!” she proclaimed in her annoyingly high voice, so dissimilar to Connie’s. “Thank you”, Barb said curtly as she turned toward her office.
Locking the door and collapsing into her chair old office chair, Barb looked around regretfully at all the work piled on her desk and any other horizontal surface in the tiny office. “I hate this shit”, was her only thought as she opened up the tab she was looking at before the shit-show of her teaching assignment. “Time to do something about this Connie situation”, she thought as she opened her favorite story on CruxForums.com.
45 minutes of fantasizing about Connie’s incredible body nailed and writhing on a short cross, Barb leaned back and wiped her sticky fingers on the towel kept in her desk for that exact purpose. No one knew about her intense fascination with crucifixion and everything about it. Her undergraduate history minor was for the express purpose of learning all she possibly could about the history of crucifixion and the Romans’ who had perfected it. Her kink had turned into something entirely more over time. Now she orgasmed almost exclusively to either a crucifixion theme or of course to the images of beautiful women such as Connie. Most of the time two were intertwined.
Running her soft brown eyes over her domain, they fell on the oddly sized yellow envelope on her desk. There was no return address and the writing of my office address looked like it was scrawled by a ten year old. Intrigued, Barb grabbed the large, lumpy envelope and tore it open. Reaching in, Barb pulled out a note that she had to decipher due to the poor handwriting and grammar. Eyes wide with awe she read:
Took me some time to track you down Barbaria, but figgured it out. Aint no one I could think of to send this to till I met you onlyne. Found it in my grandpappys attic and figured you might be able to make sense of it at your big school up there in Minnysoda.
Tree
Breathing quickly and heart racing she flipped the envelope to quickly empty the contents. Her eyes widened and her breath stopped as four large, heavy nails fell onto her desk with what seemed like a deafening crash as her world seemed to stop. Still in shock and holding the envelope up at head level, she was astonished as another item slipped from the package. Barb thought it was a movie prop at first. Things like this did not just appear. She stared warily at the linen wrapped scrolls that had fallen onto her desk. “Do they really look like that”, she thought as she saw the Latin script through the gauzy linen. She knew that she should immediately take these to the history department. This was an earth shattering discovery if these were what she thought they were. An undiscovered, original, primary document from Roman times! “Are there even any original Roman manuscripts that survived,” Barb mused, astonished beyond senses at what lay in front of her. The thought of where they came from and what they might contain eventually overcame her rational mind as she realized her pussy was soaked again. “I should really wear gloves or something,” Barb muttered as she reached with a shaking hand to unwrap the first scroll…..
This first chapter is kind of boring I know, but stick around and after an acceptable period of thread drift I will post more. Trust me we will get to where we all want to go very soon. I did my best to check for grammar and literary mistakes but remember I am freshly out of college and quite frankly am not too concerned with things of that nature any longer! Of course criticism is greatly appreciated and please don't hesitate to fire away! Also if you are jealous that you have not appeared yet, don't be too disappointed. We have a very long way to go and lot's of characters to introduce. The next chapter will se a shift in view point. Keep in mind this in very much a prologue really. Also forgive the lack of indents, I couldn't figure out how to put them in. Hope everyone enjoys! The Lost Chronicle
Ch. 1
The Midwestern sun beat down harshly on the woman as she trudged across campus towards her cramped office. Her thick, shoulder length brown hair was limp and sticky from the heat and humidity of the early September day. The once crisp blouse had quickly soaked through with sweat both from the weather and her frantic dash to the room where she was to teach a class forced on her by a merciless bureaucratic system. A system created by lazy professors that determined research project leaders must teach a minimum number of credits per semester. “Even if those research project leaders are introverted freaks who can’t even speak over the phone, let alone teach a room full of ass-hole grad students with something to prove every damn class,” she thought cynically as another academic year opened rather inauspiciously
In her rush to make sure her preparation was complete and she was mentally fortified to face the smug glares and arrogant voices of the graduate as they peppered her with “gotcha” questions; the time had slipped by unnoticed. By the time she remembered to look up at the clock she was hopelessly late. The resultant chaos of throwing various teaching materials into her bag and a desperate jog across campus to the only non-air-conditioned building left on the historic campus left her standing outside the classroom door four minutes late and soaked with a very un-scholarly coating of sweat that wasn’t going anywhere in the humidity of the ancient building. “Fucking typical, just fucking typical,” she muttered under her breath as she walked through the door.
The first day ritual of syllabus reading and introductions had followed, all the time she was acutely aware of the lusty stares from the men and the pissed looks of the women at her now visible bra under her now almost translucent white blouse. Grateful for the smallish class size and lack of apparent troublemakers she had begun to wrap it up and organize her things when a distinctively snooty and bitchy voice rang out: “Professor?” “Fucking suck ups,” she thought as she answered in a voice that belied her inner anger. “I’m not a prof everybody, you can just call me Barb. Yes?” When she looked up at the owner of the voice however any further words that came out from one of the most sensuous mouths Barb had ever seen were barely heard. Barb had to struggle to compose herself as she was confronted by a vision of rare beauty. “How the hell did I not notice her!” she thought as she struggled to keep her eyes away from the pale skin of her cleavage displayed by the tight tee shirt. The slightly freckled skin was a fair shade betraying an obvious Celtic heritage. Forcing her eyes up from the strongly formed legs displayed casually by a pair of athletic shorts and past the delicate curve of her hips to an obviously tightly muscled and firm abdomen under her clinging shirt, she was confronted by a piercing set of emerald eyes which left her mouth practically hanging open.
Any hope that the girl had not noticed the ogling was dashed as she gave Barb a slightly less obvious once over as the question was answered. It was not a secret that Barb preferred the company of women, but she did her best to keep her proclivities ambiguous while teaching in order to remain unbiased. That was not going to happen with this girl as she coyly re-crossed her legs while taking a note after giving Barb a knowing glance. “No way she isn’t straight,” Barb chided herself in an attempt to break free from her fantasizing as the class filed out. “She just wants an easy A.” The girl was the last one out of the room and as she walked toward her desk Barb was surprised how she towered over the petite girl. This did not compute with the seemingly visible power and confidence that surrounded her. Standing face to face with the girl also reinforced how powerful and strong the girl’s compact body was. “I really look forward to the rest of the semester with you Barb” was the girl’s only words as she pinned Barb to the spot with those hypnotic eyes. Then they slid slowly slid down to stare pointedly through her revealing blouse to her inexplicably heaving chest. She felt her face burn as she realized her panties were not soaked because of the humidity.
The top of the girl’s head passed under her nose as she slid unnecessarily close to Barb on her way out. The intoxicating scent wafting from her oh so natural, red hair which was cropped perfectly at the level of her high and defined cheek bones, almost caused her to lose her voice again. She finally managed to croak out, “I didn’t catch your name!” as the girl walked through the door. Turning knowingly and giving a knee quaking smirk, she answered in her clear and firm voice: “You can call me Connie.” Barb could barely get out a hoarse: “thanks, see you next week.” Watching the girl’s impossibly firm ass wiggle around the corner, Barb leaned exhausted against the desk. “Fuck it….this’ll be the easiest class she’s ever had,” Barb admitted to herself as she gathered her things while trying to ignore the lust soaking the crotch of her pantyhose and running slowly down her inner thighs.
While the run to class had been panicked and hurried, the trip back was slow and depressing as Barb imagined the impossibility of the small goddess in her graduate class being even the least bit interested in her. She trudged on as her the sweat ran down her face toward the prison cell that was her office. Hoping not to attract attention, Barb slinked through the building to the basement where she spent most of her time when not in meetings with her research group.
“Hey Barb!” She stiffened as the hated voice of the department’s administrative assistant cut through the air. “Hey, what’s up?” Barb said through gritted teeth at the woman whose apparently only job was to judge her lifestyle and sexual preference. “I put a package for you on your desk!” she proclaimed in her annoyingly high voice, so dissimilar to Connie’s. “Thank you”, Barb said curtly as she turned toward her office.
Locking the door and collapsing into her chair old office chair, Barb looked around regretfully at all the work piled on her desk and any other horizontal surface in the tiny office. “I hate this shit”, was her only thought as she opened up the tab she was looking at before the shit-show of her teaching assignment. “Time to do something about this Connie situation”, she thought as she opened her favorite story on CruxForums.com.
45 minutes of fantasizing about Connie’s incredible body nailed and writhing on a short cross, Barb leaned back and wiped her sticky fingers on the towel kept in her desk for that exact purpose. No one knew about her intense fascination with crucifixion and everything about it. Her undergraduate history minor was for the express purpose of learning all she possibly could about the history of crucifixion and the Romans’ who had perfected it. Her kink had turned into something entirely more over time. Now she orgasmed almost exclusively to either a crucifixion theme or of course to the images of beautiful women such as Connie. Most of the time two were intertwined.
Running her soft brown eyes over her domain, they fell on the oddly sized yellow envelope on her desk. There was no return address and the writing of my office address looked like it was scrawled by a ten year old. Intrigued, Barb grabbed the large, lumpy envelope and tore it open. Reaching in, Barb pulled out a note that she had to decipher due to the poor handwriting and grammar. Eyes wide with awe she read:
Took me some time to track you down Barbaria, but figgured it out. Aint no one I could think of to send this to till I met you onlyne. Found it in my grandpappys attic and figured you might be able to make sense of it at your big school up there in Minnysoda.
Tree
Breathing quickly and heart racing she flipped the envelope to quickly empty the contents. Her eyes widened and her breath stopped as four large, heavy nails fell onto her desk with what seemed like a deafening crash as her world seemed to stop. Still in shock and holding the envelope up at head level, she was astonished as another item slipped from the package. Barb thought it was a movie prop at first. Things like this did not just appear. She stared warily at the linen wrapped scrolls that had fallen onto her desk. “Do they really look like that”, she thought as she saw the Latin script through the gauzy linen. She knew that she should immediately take these to the history department. This was an earth shattering discovery if these were what she thought they were. An undiscovered, original, primary document from Roman times! “Are there even any original Roman manuscripts that survived,” Barb mused, astonished beyond senses at what lay in front of her. The thought of where they came from and what they might contain eventually overcame her rational mind as she realized her pussy was soaked again. “I should really wear gloves or something,” Barb muttered as she reached with a shaking hand to unwrap the first scroll…..
.................great even Tree's "mistaken s"
Thank you so much for the comments everybody!!!
Just ignore the blatant errors and missing words lol! I swear I actually did graduate from college! I swear! lol
