• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Praefectus's Shorter Subjects

Go to CruxDreams.com

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
As those who've read much of my writing know, I tend to create grand works with rich detail and characterization, and complex plot. While this can be interesting and rewarding, there are many ideas that I have trouble getting to in the midst of these epics. I am starting this thread as a place to post shorter (not always short) works that do not require such a long commitment. Comments (especially fawning praise) or appropriate illustrations are encouraged.
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Master’s Friends

Continuing a special interest of mine, I explore further the world and minds of masters and slaves. I was inspired by this fine work of art:
KomFanCover.jpg
It shall be posted over three to four days.

Master’s Friends

Master, Dominic [D], and His Slave, Lucy [L], entertain some friends. Names of the guests are restricted to epithets to respect their privacy.

Lucy's View

[L]
Master warned me. He was inviting over some friends today. He said that they enjoy hurting slavegirls. He was going to ‘loan’ me to them. Only for a couple of hours and only while he was present.

As I waited the few hours until they arrived, I slid between crippling fear that made my whole body shiver, and incredibly hot arousal.

How badly would they hurt me? I knew Master, but not them. Master values me (he might even love me, though he’s never used that word). These strangers couldn’t care less about me. They were just coming to hurt. How badly would they hurt?

To be hurt by strangers, wanting to pain my slavegirl body – such a hot thought. I would go from being a loved slave of a master, to a common slavegirl to be used without care, a body to be abused. My will to submit pushed to the limit – perhaps over the limit! I would become a worthless animal for them to hurt! To be hurt by strangers, wanting to pain my slavegirl body – that was such a hot thought.

Master’s View

[D]
This will be the first time I’ve loaned my slavegirl out. I try not to show it, but I’m nervous. I want it to be enjoyable for everyone. I worry. Will they like it? Will she like it? Will I like it?

This will be a major and exciting step for both me and Lucy. We have our ways. We know each other. Punishments all stem from the same menu. Level and intensity follow a predictable pattern. It is very arousing and fulfilling. But it does become a little predictable. It can fall into a rut.

Tonight will be very different. Not necessarily harder or more intense, but different. She (and I) will not know what to expect. The uncertainty adds much to the excitement.

I have chosen reasonable ‘friends’ for tonight. They are all experienced. There won’t be any embarrassing missteps. I’ve set the rules. I’ll be present.

But will it be good for everyone?

The Guests Arrival

[L]
I’m on my knees, naked. The flat metal collar tight on my neck, leash attached. My arms bound tightly behind. It makes me thrust my small boobs invitingly out. Will they start with those? My nipples harden at the thought.

Master greets the first arrival, a man in a blue-purple suit with expensive shoes. Master hands him my leash and goes to his favorite chair in the corner. I see him sit, sipping a Burgundy, saying nothing.

As more enter the room, my eyes are obediently downcast. My posture submissive. I can see their feet. One, two…a woman’s feet in red, five-inch spike heels I can smell her perfume – too strong for my taste. A woman has never beaten me. I have a momentary vision of her grinding her sharp heels into my breasts – into my pussy! I am damp. Another man and another. The cologne on the last is musky and sweet. It arouses me. The door closes. Four men and a woman here to punish me! Can I take it all? Can I submit as a proper slavegirl should? Can I endure it all and make my Master proud?

I must show them the quality of the Master’s slavegirl! I must show my strength in submission. I must crave and accept the whip. I must endure it all!

At least I will try.

[D] My guests are all here. Just seeing them on the street, they would be nothing special. Some are good-looking, some balding or paunchy. But they are united in one purpose – to punish Lucy. I feel the beginning of arousal in my crotch. I must not be too anxious. After handing over Lucy’s leash, I sit in my comfortable chair, sipping some wine and trying to appear relaxed.
 
Last edited:

Fossy

Tribune
Master’s Friends

Continuing a special interest of mine, I explore further the world and minds of masters and slaves. I was inspired by this fine work of art:
View attachment 907028
It shall be posted over three to four days.

Master’s Friends

Master, Dominic [D], and His Slave, Lucy [L], entertain some friends. Names of the guests are restricted to epithets to respect their privacy.

Lucy's View

[L]
Master warned me. He was inviting over some friends today. He said that they enjoy hurting slavegirls. He was going to ‘loan’ me to them. Only for a couple of hours and only while he was present.

As I waited the few hours until they arrived, I slid between crippling fear that made my whole body shiver, and incredibly hot arousal.

How badly would they hurt me? I knew Master, but not them. Master values me (he might even love me, though he’s never used that word). These strangers couldn’t care less about me. They were just coming to hurt. How badly would they hurt?

To be hurt by strangers, wanting to pain my slavegirl body – such a hot thought. I would go from being a loved slave of a master, to a common slavegirl to be used without care, a body to be abused. My will to submit pushed to the limit – perhaps over the limit! I would become a worthless animal for them to hurt! To be hurt by strangers, wanting to pain my slavegirl body – that was such a hot thought.

Master’s View

[D]
This will be the first time I’ve loaned my slavegirl out. I try not to show it, but I’m nervous. I want it to be enjoyable for everyone. I worry. Will they like it? Will she like it? Will I like it?

This will be a major and exciting step for both me and Lucy. We have our ways. We know each other. Punishments all stem from the same menu. Level and intensity follow a predictable pattern. It is very arousing and fulfilling. But it does become a little predictable. It can fall into a rut.

Tonight will be very different. Not necessarily harder or more intense, but different. She (and I) will not know what to expect. The uncertainty adds much to the excitement.

I have chosen reasonable ‘friends’ for tonight. They are all experienced. There won’t be any embarrassing missteps. I’ve set the rules. I’ll be present.

But will it be good for everyone?

The Guests Arrival

[L]
I’m on my knees, naked. The flat metal collar tight on my neck, leash attached. My arms bound tightly behind. It makes me thrust my small boobs invitingly out. Will they start with those? My nipples harden at the thought.

Master greets the first arrival, a man in a blue-purple suit with expensive shoes. Master hands him my leash and goes to his favorite chair in the corner. I see him sit, sipping a Burgundy, saying nothing.

As more enter the room, my eyes are obediently downcast. My posture submissive. I can see their feet. One, two…a woman’s feet in red, five-inch spike heels I can smell her perfume – too strong for my taste. A woman has never beaten me. I have a momentary vision of her grinding her sharp heels into my breasts – into my pussy! I am damp. Another man and another. The cologne on the last is musky and sweet. It arouses me. The door closes. Four men and a woman here to punish me! Can I take it all? Can I submit as a proper slavegirl should? Can I endure it all and make my Master proud?

I must show them the quality of the Master’s slavegirl! I must show my strength in submission. I must crave and accept the whip. I must endure it all!

At least I will try.

[D] My guests are all here. Just seeing them on the street, they would be nothing special. Some are good-looking, some balding or paunchy. But they are united in one purpose – to punish Lucy. I feel the beginning of arousal in my crotch. I must not be too anxious. After handing over Lucy’s leash, I sit in my comfortable chair, sipping some wine and trying to appear relaxed.
Very stimulating beginning PrPr. This time I sense, will be enjoyable for Lucy, but maybe, in the future, if her Master offers an open invitation on the web and strangers arrive to beat her with the limits raised, it would not perhaps be so pleasant for the little, vulnerable fuck-toy.

But for now I am looking forward to reading about the harsh manner in which she is about to be disciplined!
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Mr. Graypants

[L] Mr. Graypants gives a short order, and jerks on the chain to move me. It seems strange to me at first; Master always uses a calm, almost respectful voice with me and never jerks - he knows I will follow instantly.

I bend forward to the ‘used’ position, my forehead on the ground my knees widespread. Looking between my legs, I see Graypants, kneel between my legs. Will he fuck me fuck? Pleasure before pain? I feel dampness as my body prepares to welcome his member. It seems wrong, somehow. These days Master never uses me sexually before at some discipline.
1595111199159.png
[D] I watch Graypants approach Lucy from behind on his knees. He is holding a surprise for her. I wonder how my girl will react?

[L] I feel the rounded head press at my anus. “Relax, open,” the simple, abrupt command; I obey. I feel the pressure. It is not a cock. It is a dildo, a large one. Much larger than the buttplugs that Master uses. I try as I can to accommodate it. It is lubricated and slides in with little friction, though a deal of pain at the stretching. I hold my voice, but a groan escapes my lips when it penetrates so deep! It stops. I am proud; I’ve taken it all.

A wooshing sound. The dildo enlarges slightly. It inflatable! Graypants pumps the bulb again, and I give a little whimper. Oh, my God! I catch a smell. Not in the room but far back from my memories. In the bathroom of my childhood home. Yes, when my parents gave their little girl her first enema!

Graypants inflated the dildo until just before I think it will tear me open. Then he just leaves it. I am jerked back on my haunches by the lease. The action drives the massive dildo deeper and at a new angle. I try, but only partially suppress the groan.

“She took that well, Dom,” said Graypants.

[Gray] Dominic has a fine slave here. She is young and in good shape, though no porn star. But she responds exceptionally well to commands. Either Dom is a good trainer, or she’s a good learner, or both!

Mr. Highpants

[L]
Graypants hands my leash to the next man. Middle-aged, short, balding, wearing a brown suit with the pants almost to his chest. I name him Highpants. He has an innocent, gentle smile. Combined with his wimpy looks, I fear him. He has me sit back up on my haunches; my breasts are sticking out. He is holding two metal clamps attached to a chain. “Let’s see those prominent nipples,” he says in a gentle, almost sweet voice.

[D] Nipple torture. That is Lucy’s favorite, I think. However, she won’t admit it to me. High might test her more than I do. I cannot resist leaning forward. This is very exciting!

[L] The clamps are not the usual nipple clamps. They look like scientific equipment with thumbscrews. He puts one over my right nipple and slowly turned the nob. The two flat bars move closer around my nipple; they are snug now – the touch excites me, and the nipple swells. He keeps tightening; the screw is powerful – the bars are squeezing my nipple now – the snugness changed to hurt – the end bulging beyond the captured part. He is crushing it now; it feels like the bars will cut the poor nub off – I grind my teeth and feel sweat pour from my skin. At last, he stops and flicks the end of the nipple with a sharp snap of his finger – sending agony through my breast.
ihwx.0C3E7EFF-B825-4079-83DB-3171204FC1F8.180.180.jpg
“Now the other,” in the same gentle voice as if offering a child a chocolate. When he finishes, my nipples are on fire. He put the chain in my mouth. “Don’t drop it,” he says, petting my head like a favorite pet. “Or I’ll rip it off.” That same sweet smile – arrrgghhhh!

Nipple torture is always the best and the worst for me. My nipples are so sensitive that I feel the pain intensely, and it seems to drill into my chest. I would not be able to bear the pain if it weren’t for the fact that it excites me like no other torture. My breasts and cunt aways seem to be on fire when it happens.
 

Kathy

Terra Nova Tramp
Mr. Graypants

[L] Mr. Graypants gives a short order, and jerks on the chain to move me. It seems strange to me at first; Master always uses a calm, almost respectful voice with me and never jerks - he knows I will follow instantly.

I bend forward to the ‘used’ position, my forehead on the ground my knees widespread. Looking between my legs, I see Graypants, kneel between my legs. Will he fuck me fuck? Pleasure before pain? I feel dampness as my body prepares to welcome his member. It seems wrong, somehow. These days Master never uses me sexually before at some discipline.
View attachment 907240
[D] I watch Graypants approach Lucy from behind on his knees. He is holding a surprise for her. I wonder how my girl will react?

[L] I feel the rounded head press at my anus. “Relax, open,” the simple, abrupt command; I obey. I feel the pressure. It is not a cock. It is a dildo, a large one. Much larger than the buttplugs that Master uses. I try as I can to accommodate it. It is lubricated and slides in with little friction, though a deal of pain at the stretching. I hold my voice, but a groan escapes my lips when it penetrates so deep! It stops. I am proud; I’ve taken it all.

A wooshing sound. The dildo enlarges slightly. It inflatable! Graypants pumps the bulb again, and I give a little whimper. Oh, my God! I catch a smell. Not in the room but far back from my memories. In the bathroom of my childhood home. Yes, when my parents gave their little girl her first enema!

Graypants inflated the dildo until just before I think it will tear me open. Then he just leaves it. I am jerked back on my haunches by the lease. The action drives the massive dildo deeper and at a new angle. I try, but only partially suppress the groan.

“She took that well, Dom,” said Graypants.

[Gray] Dominic has a fine slave here. She is young and in good shape, though no porn star. But she responds exceptionally well to commands. Either Dom is a good trainer, or she’s a good learner, or both!

Mr. Highpants

[L]
Graypants hands my leash to the next man. Middle-aged, short, balding, wearing a brown suit with the pants almost to his chest. I name him Highpants. He has an innocent, gentle smile. Combined with his wimpy looks, I fear him. He has me sit back up on my haunches; my breasts are sticking out. He is holding two metal clamps attached to a chain. “Let’s see those prominent nipples,” he says in a gentle, almost sweet voice.

[D] Nipple torture. That is Lucy’s favorite, I think. However, she won’t admit it to me. High might test her more than I do. I cannot resist leaning forward. This is very exciting!

[L] The clamps are not the usual nipple clamps. They look like scientific equipment with thumbscrews. He puts one over my right nipple and slowly turned the nob. The two flat bars move closer around my nipple; they are snug now – the touch excites me, and the nipple swells. He keeps tightening; the screw is powerful – the bars are squeezing my nipple now – the snugness changed to hurt – the end bulging beyond the captured part. He is crushing it now; it feels like the bars will cut the poor nub off – I grind my teeth and feel sweat pour from my skin. At last, he stops and flicks the end of the nipple with a sharp snap of his finger – sending agony through my breast.
View attachment 907241
“Now the other,” in the same gentle voice as if offering a child a chocolate. When he finishes, my nipples are on fire. He put the chain in my mouth. “Don’t drop it,” he says, petting my head like a favorite pet. “Or I’ll rip it off.” That same sweet smile – arrrgghhhh!

Nipple torture is always the best and the worst for me. My nipples are so sensitive that I feel the pain intensely, and it seems to drill into my chest. I would not be able to bear the pain if it weren’t for the fact that it excites me like no other torture. My breasts and cunt aways seem to be on fire when it happens.
So erotic and very well written!!!!
 

Fossy

Tribune
Mr. Graypants

[L] Mr. Graypants gives a short order, and jerks on the chain to move me. It seems strange to me at first; Master always uses a calm, almost respectful voice with me and never jerks - he knows I will follow instantly.

I bend forward to the ‘used’ position, my forehead on the ground my knees widespread. Looking between my legs, I see Graypants, kneel between my legs. Will he fuck me fuck? Pleasure before pain? I feel dampness as my body prepares to welcome his member. It seems wrong, somehow. These days Master never uses me sexually before at some discipline.
View attachment 907240
[D] I watch Graypants approach Lucy from behind on his knees. He is holding a surprise for her. I wonder how my girl will react?

[L] I feel the rounded head press at my anus. “Relax, open,” the simple, abrupt command; I obey. I feel the pressure. It is not a cock. It is a dildo, a large one. Much larger than the buttplugs that Master uses. I try as I can to accommodate it. It is lubricated and slides in with little friction, though a deal of pain at the stretching. I hold my voice, but a groan escapes my lips when it penetrates so deep! It stops. I am proud; I’ve taken it all.

A wooshing sound. The dildo enlarges slightly. It inflatable! Graypants pumps the bulb again, and I give a little whimper. Oh, my God! I catch a smell. Not in the room but far back from my memories. In the bathroom of my childhood home. Yes, when my parents gave their little girl her first enema!

Graypants inflated the dildo until just before I think it will tear me open. Then he just leaves it. I am jerked back on my haunches by the lease. The action drives the massive dildo deeper and at a new angle. I try, but only partially suppress the groan.

“She took that well, Dom,” said Graypants.

[Gray] Dominic has a fine slave here. She is young and in good shape, though no porn star. But she responds exceptionally well to commands. Either Dom is a good trainer, or she’s a good learner, or both!

Mr. Highpants

[L]
Graypants hands my leash to the next man. Middle-aged, short, balding, wearing a brown suit with the pants almost to his chest. I name him Highpants. He has an innocent, gentle smile. Combined with his wimpy looks, I fear him. He has me sit back up on my haunches; my breasts are sticking out. He is holding two metal clamps attached to a chain. “Let’s see those prominent nipples,” he says in a gentle, almost sweet voice.

[D] Nipple torture. That is Lucy’s favorite, I think. However, she won’t admit it to me. High might test her more than I do. I cannot resist leaning forward. This is very exciting!

[L] The clamps are not the usual nipple clamps. They look like scientific equipment with thumbscrews. He puts one over my right nipple and slowly turned the nob. The two flat bars move closer around my nipple; they are snug now – the touch excites me, and the nipple swells. He keeps tightening; the screw is powerful – the bars are squeezing my nipple now – the snugness changed to hurt – the end bulging beyond the captured part. He is crushing it now; it feels like the bars will cut the poor nub off – I grind my teeth and feel sweat pour from my skin. At last, he stops and flicks the end of the nipple with a sharp snap of his finger – sending agony through my breast.
View attachment 907241
“Now the other,” in the same gentle voice as if offering a child a chocolate. When he finishes, my nipples are on fire. He put the chain in my mouth. “Don’t drop it,” he says, petting my head like a favorite pet. “Or I’ll rip it off.” That same sweet smile – arrrgghhhh!

Nipple torture is always the best and the worst for me. My nipples are so sensitive that I feel the pain intensely, and it seems to drill into my chest. I would not be able to bear the pain if it weren’t for the fact that it excites me like no other torture. My breasts and cunt aways seem to be on fire when it happens.
There's no wonder that young Lucy ended up a fuck-toy-sex-slave if she had parents who gave her regular enemas!
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
There's no wonder that young Lucy ended up a fuck-toy-sex-slave if she had parents who gave her regular enemas!
I never said they were regular. They usually are a response to irregular.

Mr. Purple

Highpants handed my leash to the man in the purple suit with highly polished shoes. He casually brandished a heavy riding crop.

[Purple] God, that was hot when High crushed her nipples like that. I could feel her pain as he squeezed her nubs, and the tips bulged out. Amazingly, she made only a few soft mews, like a little kitten. I had intended to crop her sweet ass. But, after that, it had to be her tits.

[L] “Slavegirl, lean back, face to the ceiling,” He ordered. “Close your eyes.”

Of, course I obeyed instantly. However, in doing so I realized two problems. First, I sat on the anal dildo, pushing it deep in my stretched rectum! Second, as I tilted my head back, the chain in my teeth would pull hard on those horrible clamps on my poor nipples. The sudden shooting pain almost made me lose my grip on the chain. As it was, I couldn’t prevent a moan escaping m
I hold the position; my eyes closed, my nipples hurting, knowing that my breasts are raised and exposed to his crop. Nothing happens. God, I want it to come, whatever it will be, do it now! I feel drops of sweat running down my belly, and my box is getting very wet. I wonder – is he teasing? When will he start?

The next moment, I hear a slight woosh and the crop lands on the bottom slope of my right tit. I make no sound. I force my mind to think of those Christian Martyr girls whose breasts were torn and ripped. A similar blow lands on the left. I am still silent and unmoving, the chain to my tortured nipples tight in my teeth, the dildo reaming out my ass; I am a Martyr!

[D] I can see Lucy retreating into her mind. She is becoming a beaten slave or an ancient martyr. Those role-playing seem to help her bear the pain and milk it for her own pleasure. I do love her.

[L] He is cropping my breasts constantly now. I see myself, tied to a post in the Coliseum, the Roman soldiers whipping me mercilessly The wild beasts are waiting in cages for their chance to tear at my flesh and devour my girly-parts. I must endure it! I hold back all sound. I cannot prevent the tears forming and rolling from the sides of my eyes.
Then, without warning, he stops.

[Purple] Lucy is panting hard, and tears are running down her cheeks, but she did not break. Her lovely tits are a bright red. The pain must be something! “Slave, you may sit up and open your eyes. Dom,” I say. “Your slave is a credit to you.”

[L] Master raises his wine glass in appreciation of the compliment.
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Now a dominatrix takes a turn.

Miss Redshoes

[L] Mr. Purple handed my leash to Miss Redshoes. I noticed she was carrying a multi tail flogger with a dildo handle when she entered. It is trimmed in matching red. I couldn’t help but wonder. Did she buy the flogger to match her outfit or vice versa?

[D] I know Red better than any of the others. We talked over drinks ( many drinks) one time about slaves and discipline. I think there was a little chemistry between us. At least on my side for her very-hot body and fascinating mind. But our dominant natures did not meld together that way.
She is the only one that worries me at all for Lucy’s sake. Not that she will get carried away – no, she is controlled, very controlled. But her attitude toward discipline is strict and intense. This worries me a little for Lucy. But it also excites me.

[L] No time to wonder about colors now. Miss Redshoes jerks my leash her way and has me place my head to the floor. With no introduction, she slashes her flogger across my buttcheeks. I give a small grunt from the unexpected blow, but otherwise remain still and silent. But I feel the pain intensely. The tails are thin and almost cutting, and she wields it with significant strength. There was also deep hurt in my ass as it clenched around the inflated anal invader.
usage.png
“Can you count the number and say, Thank you, Mistress. May I have another?”
“One. Thank you, Mistress. May I have another?”
“But of course, dearie. Your ass is just begging to be red and match my dress. Perhaps, I’ll make it bleed.”
Another slash rips low on my cheeks, some of the force drives the dildo deeper into my ass. I manage, just, not to cry out.
“Two. Thank you, Mistress. May I have another?” Being forced to count and beg for more is an exciting twist on the punishment. On the one hand, it certainly drives in the point of being a worthless slave with no will of your own (something that excited me very much). But it also plays games with your concentration. I can’t just lose myself in pain or in fantasy. I have to remember the count and the phrase – Lord, help me if I get the number or the words wrong!
Before I know it, my ass is all burning, and it feels on fire.
“Seven. Thank you, Mistress. May I have another?”
“You may. That last one almost drew some blood. Do you want the next the same or harder?”
Naturally, there is only one acceptable answer, “Harder, please, Mistress.”

[D] This is fabulous. Lucy’s butt is bright scarlet and quivering even between blows. That flogger is much more destructive than mine. I wouldn’t use it every day, but for a special session – wow!

[L] “A moment,” Master spoke up. I heard him get from his chair and walk close. “My, my. You did draw blood with that one, Red. Nice job. Where did you get that flogger? I want one.”
“I’ll give you the address after I finish the bitch. You can customize the color and the thickness of the strands. I can show you how it works on breast meat.”
“I would love to see that,” said Master as he walked back to his chair and sat down.
Red continued. The next few were curled around my back and down to kiss the sides of my hanging tits. Shit! That really, really hurt! Despite my efforts, a few groans escaped my lips.
Then she went back to my poor butt. When I counted twenty-five, she stopped. I was in agony, but proud of my strength. She used a sanitary wipe to clean the wounds and the blood. That stung like hell! Then she patted me on the back of the head, “good Slavegirl.” That offset a little of the pain.

[Red] I underestimated Dom. I had thought he was a little wimpish toward disciplining a slave. But Lucy took a remarkable flogging there. I almost came toward the end. Glad I wore protection. God, this room seems hot!
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
All good things (and even more not-so-good things) must come to an end!

Mr. Suit

[L] Redshoes hands my leash to the last man. This act has become, without any discussion, the symbolic method to hand me on to the next person for punishment. In my mind, the person holding the leash is like my Master, deserving all the obedience I owe him.

[D] I am proud of Lucy. She, so far, has risen magnificently to this challenge. I have been fascinated to watch her punishment while relaxed and hands-free. No! not to do that thing (you dirty-minded readers! - That would be improper here). I mean that when I discipline her, my mind and body have their chores: planning the next action, spacing strokes, listening to her response, and non-verbal cues. Now I can just watch her lovely body suffering and her remarkable mind enduring. It is an incredibly arousing experience.

[L] He wears a grey suit, and I can see his hands, the skin a dark brown. He examines my rear as I keep my head to the floor.

“Red, you did a magnificent job on those buttocks,” he said in a slow West Indian accent, perhaps Jamaican. I’d hate to follow and mess them up. Get on that bench, slavegirl, on your back legs straight and widespread.”

I hurry into the ordered position on Master’s ‘workbench.’ As I lie back, that damn dildo is pressed deeper in my rear, and my beaten ass screams with pain. I am forced to raise my hips, presenting a more vulnerable target. I see Mr. Suit’s weapon for the first time: a long, thin cane with a curved handle. I hate canes!

“You also did fine work of those proud tits, Purple,” he said to Mr. Purple.

“Thank you, Suit. I did my share.”

“So I think I shall explore virgin territory, if I may, Dom?”

“Be my guest,” replied Master, raising his glass and drinking a toast to his friend.

“That flat tummy quivers very nicely even before it’s hit. I think it will mark nicely with the cane. How many do you want, slavegirl?”

The question throws me. If I ask for too few, it might earn me additional punishment. But how many. The cane looks like it can hurt.

“Twenty, Sir.” I pray that it will be acceptable.

“Twenty, slavegirl? You are brave. But, as you wish. No need to count. Here, let me just put this in your mouth, suck it and keep quiet.” He took out a three-inch-long, soft rubber, mouth dildo and placed it in my mouth.

I sucked hard on the rubber, trying to feel sexual doing so. My only defense against the cane was self-arousal and sheer will-power.

[Suit] This girl makes a very sexy victim. Her flat belly does quiver ever so slightly now and her spread legs expose fair soft inner thighs. I doubt I’ll break her. But I shall try.

[L] One,” he said. The cane whistled in the air and struck just below my navel. Damn, that hurt!

“A nicely taut middle, Dom. Do you exercise it regularly?

“Mostly, she does yoga. But a few times a week, I have her do enough situps to make it burn and make it strong.”

“Wise policy. Enhances the slave’s well-being while providing for your enjoyment. Two.”

Another stinging blow landed, this time up close to my rib cage. “Three,” a shot across my thighs. I could not look, but I could feel the welts rising.

Then he move to my inner thighs. The muscles and tendons taut from the forced spread, and the skin thin and sensitive. I almost spit out the rubber when the first one slashed me there.

[D] As blow after blow of this final round landed on Lucy’s tummy and thighs, I caught the strong scent filling the room. A salty, musky smell; sweat mixed with multiple arousals. The combination was a pheromone feast for the senses. I think we all were captives of this ritual being played out on Lucy’s submissive body.

[L] It was impossible not to squirm as the pain built, and my belly and thighs shouted with agony. I sucked on the rubber and dreamed of being the perfect slavegirl. The thought made my pussy damp, and it distracted, ever so slightly, from the pain.

I had been concentrating so much on enduring the pain without complaint or cry that I didn’t follow the count. Then I heard, “Twenty.” It was over!

“How delicious,” said Red. “She endured it well, but you could see the strokes hurting her much more than she let on.

Master stood up and went to his liquor cabinet. “Thank you, my friends,” he said, gathering snifters and a bottle. “For giving me and my slavegirl a very entertaining evening. Here, gather in a circle, and we will share a little Napolean.”

I remained in the position that had been ordered, but my Master did not forget me.

“Come here, slavegirl, bring me your leash.” He bade me kneel before him in the middle of the circle. Raising his glass, he said, “To a most enjoyable evening.” All raised theirs in reply. “And maybe again before too long?” There were hearty cheers of agreement, while Master patted my head with his free hand. I cuddled my cheek gratefully against his strong but soft hand.


The End
 

Fossy

Tribune
All good things (and even more not-so-good things) must come to an end!

Mr. Suit

[L] Redshoes hands my leash to the last man. This act has become, without any discussion, the symbolic method to hand me on to the next person for punishment. In my mind, the person holding the leash is like my Master, deserving all the obedience I owe him.

[D] I am proud of Lucy. She, so far, has risen magnificently to this challenge. I have been fascinated to watch her punishment while relaxed and hands-free. No! not to do that thing (you dirty-minded readers! - That would be improper here). I mean that when I discipline her, my mind and body have their chores: planning the next action, spacing strokes, listening to her response, and non-verbal cues. Now I can just watch her lovely body suffering and her remarkable mind enduring. It is an incredibly arousing experience.

[L] He wears a grey suit, and I can see his hands, the skin a dark brown. He examines my rear as I keep my head to the floor.

“Red, you did a magnificent job on those buttocks,” he said in a slow West Indian accent, perhaps Jamaican. I’d hate to follow and mess them up. Get on that bench, slavegirl, on your back legs straight and widespread.”

I hurry into the ordered position on Master’s ‘workbench.’ As I lie back, that damn dildo is pressed deeper in my rear, and my beaten ass screams with pain. I am forced to raise my hips, presenting a more vulnerable target. I see Mr. Suit’s weapon for the first time: a long, thin cane with a curved handle. I hate canes!

“You also did fine work of those proud tits, Purple,” he said to Mr. Purple.

“Thank you, Suit. I did my share.”

“So I think I shall explore virgin territory, if I may, Dom?”

“Be my guest,” replied Master, raising his glass and drinking a toast to his friend.

“That flat tummy quivers very nicely even before it’s hit. I think it will mark nicely with the cane. How many do you want, slavegirl?”

The question throws me. If I ask for too few, it might earn me additional punishment. But how many. The cane looks like it can hurt.

“Twenty, Sir.” I pray that it will be acceptable.

“Twenty, slavegirl? You are brave. But, as you wish. No need to count. Here, let me just put this in your mouth, suck it and keep quiet.” He took out a three-inch-long, soft rubber, mouth dildo and placed it in my mouth.

I sucked hard on the rubber, trying to feel sexual doing so. My only defense against the cane was self-arousal and sheer will-power.

[Suit] This girl makes a very sexy victim. Her flat belly does quiver ever so slightly now and her spread legs expose fair soft inner thighs. I doubt I’ll break her. But I shall try.

[L] One,” he said. The cane whistled in the air and struck just below my navel. Damn, that hurt!

“A nicely taut middle, Dom. Do you exercise it regularly?

“Mostly, she does yoga. But a few times a week, I have her do enough situps to make it burn and make it strong.”

“Wise policy. Enhances the slave’s well-being while providing for your enjoyment. Two.”

Another stinging blow landed, this time up close to my rib cage. “Three,” a shot across my thighs. I could not look, but I could feel the welts rising.

Then he move to my inner thighs. The muscles and tendons taut from the forced spread, and the skin thin and sensitive. I almost spit out the rubber when the first one slashed me there.

[D] As blow after blow of this final round landed on Lucy’s tummy and thighs, I caught the strong scent filling the room. A salty, musky smell; sweat mixed with multiple arousals. The combination was a pheromone feast for the senses. I think we all were captives of this ritual being played out on Lucy’s submissive body.

[L] It was impossible not to squirm as the pain built, and my belly and thighs shouted with agony. I sucked on the rubber and dreamed of being the perfect slavegirl. The thought made my pussy damp, and it distracted, ever so slightly, from the pain.

I had been concentrating so much on enduring the pain without complaint or cry that I didn’t follow the count. Then I heard, “Twenty.” It was over!

“How delicious,” said Red. “She endured it well, but you could see the strokes hurting her much more than she let on.

Master stood up and went to his liquor cabinet. “Thank you, my friends,” he said, gathering snifters and a bottle. “For giving me and my slavegirl a very entertaining evening. Here, gather in a circle, and we will share a little Napolean.”

I remained in the position that had been ordered, but my Master did not forget me.

“Come here, slavegirl, bring me your leash.” He bade me kneel before him in the middle of the circle. Raising his glass, he said, “To a most enjoyable evening.” All raised theirs in reply. “And maybe again before too long?” There were hearty cheers of agreement, while Master patted my head with his free hand. I cuddled my cheek gratefully against his strong but soft hand.


The End
I think "Master" would consider that a successful in initiation into sharing his nubile, little slave-girl. Enjoyed the read PrPr, thank you.
 

Migoz2

Senator
All good things (and even more not-so-good things) must come to an end!

Mr. Suit

[L] Redshoes hands my leash to the last man. This act has become, without any discussion, the symbolic method to hand me on to the next person for punishment. In my mind, the person holding the leash is like my Master, deserving all the obedience I owe him.

[D] I am proud of Lucy. She, so far, has risen magnificently to this challenge. I have been fascinated to watch her punishment while relaxed and hands-free. No! not to do that thing (you dirty-minded readers! - That would be improper here). I mean that when I discipline her, my mind and body have their chores: planning the next action, spacing strokes, listening to her response, and non-verbal cues. Now I can just watch her lovely body suffering and her remarkable mind enduring. It is an incredibly arousing experience.

[L] He wears a grey suit, and I can see his hands, the skin a dark brown. He examines my rear as I keep my head to the floor.

“Red, you did a magnificent job on those buttocks,” he said in a slow West Indian accent, perhaps Jamaican. I’d hate to follow and mess them up. Get on that bench, slavegirl, on your back legs straight and widespread.”

I hurry into the ordered position on Master’s ‘workbench.’ As I lie back, that damn dildo is pressed deeper in my rear, and my beaten ass screams with pain. I am forced to raise my hips, presenting a more vulnerable target. I see Mr. Suit’s weapon for the first time: a long, thin cane with a curved handle. I hate canes!

“You also did fine work of those proud tits, Purple,” he said to Mr. Purple.

“Thank you, Suit. I did my share.”

“So I think I shall explore virgin territory, if I may, Dom?”

“Be my guest,” replied Master, raising his glass and drinking a toast to his friend.

“That flat tummy quivers very nicely even before it’s hit. I think it will mark nicely with the cane. How many do you want, slavegirl?”

The question throws me. If I ask for too few, it might earn me additional punishment. But how many. The cane looks like it can hurt.

“Twenty, Sir.” I pray that it will be acceptable.

“Twenty, slavegirl? You are brave. But, as you wish. No need to count. Here, let me just put this in your mouth, suck it and keep quiet.” He took out a three-inch-long, soft rubber, mouth dildo and placed it in my mouth.

I sucked hard on the rubber, trying to feel sexual doing so. My only defense against the cane was self-arousal and sheer will-power.

[Suit] This girl makes a very sexy victim. Her flat belly does quiver ever so slightly now and her spread legs expose fair soft inner thighs. I doubt I’ll break her. But I shall try.

[L] One,” he said. The cane whistled in the air and struck just below my navel. Damn, that hurt!

“A nicely taut middle, Dom. Do you exercise it regularly?

“Mostly, she does yoga. But a few times a week, I have her do enough situps to make it burn and make it strong.”

“Wise policy. Enhances the slave’s well-being while providing for your enjoyment. Two.”

Another stinging blow landed, this time up close to my rib cage. “Three,” a shot across my thighs. I could not look, but I could feel the welts rising.

Then he move to my inner thighs. The muscles and tendons taut from the forced spread, and the skin thin and sensitive. I almost spit out the rubber when the first one slashed me there.

[D] As blow after blow of this final round landed on Lucy’s tummy and thighs, I caught the strong scent filling the room. A salty, musky smell; sweat mixed with multiple arousals. The combination was a pheromone feast for the senses. I think we all were captives of this ritual being played out on Lucy’s submissive body.

[L] It was impossible not to squirm as the pain built, and my belly and thighs shouted with agony. I sucked on the rubber and dreamed of being the perfect slavegirl. The thought made my pussy damp, and it distracted, ever so slightly, from the pain.

I had been concentrating so much on enduring the pain without complaint or cry that I didn’t follow the count. Then I heard, “Twenty.” It was over!

“How delicious,” said Red. “She endured it well, but you could see the strokes hurting her much more than she let on.

Master stood up and went to his liquor cabinet. “Thank you, my friends,” he said, gathering snifters and a bottle. “For giving me and my slavegirl a very entertaining evening. Here, gather in a circle, and we will share a little Napolean.”

I remained in the position that had been ordered, but my Master did not forget me.

“Come here, slavegirl, bring me your leash.” He bade me kneel before him in the middle of the circle. Raising his glass, he said, “To a most enjoyable evening.” All raised theirs in reply. “And maybe again before too long?” There were hearty cheers of agreement, while Master patted my head with his free hand. I cuddled my cheek gratefully against his strong but soft hand.


The End
Very nice, PrPr!
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
I think "Master" would consider that a successful in initiation into sharing his nubile, little slave-girl. Enjoyed the read PrPr, thank you.
It is interesting to me as the writer to see how readers envision my characters. I have said (I believe) absolutely nothing of Master and Lucy ages. No description of Master, at all. You may assume that Lucy looks at least somewhat like the slave in the opening art. The readers are, of course, free to enjoy their own imagination.

Now a little reveal of my thoughts:
If you looked closely at the art you will see there are six characters, versus the five friends described in the text. In the back is a blond guy. You only see his face, smirking. That is Master, Dominic. He is twenty-eight.
Slave Lucy is harder to place an age on, but I envision her as being early to mid-thirties. I believe it might take some maturity to achieve the will-power and self-understanding of a slave. It also struck me as interesting to have the Slavegirl older and maybe even more mature than the Master. Nothing is written requiring slaves to be younger as in the traditional couples pairing. Thinking of a more mature, maybe even smarter and wiser slave, choosing to serve a younger master just seems hot to me.
 
Last edited:

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
My next short post will be an except from another of my very long stories. It is about two-thirds complete and I'm waiting for Singapore to finish (or for me to die, whichever comes first) before starting it. The subject, setting, etc, of the new story, is still embargoed, so I will not comment on it further except to mention that it will be my third effort to be set in Great Britain.
Within the story, there are descriptions, vignettes, if you will, of kidnapped girls (all 18+, relax mods!). I thought that posting one of those here might entertain and whet your appetite (or libido). Probably coming tomorrow.
 
Last edited:

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Inspired by the 1985 HOM Bondage Video Classic:
Untitled.jpg
KGA – Kidnapped Girl’s Agency

Marjeta

Marjeta was a desirable young woman. On that, all were agreed. A delicately molded face, surrounded by long, straight brunette hair with red highlights, reminded people of an angel. However, her trim, shapely body aroused other thoughts in men. Full, high breasts, a slim flat belly, flared hips and a round butt made the nineteen-year-old a walking wet dream.
As the girl entered her teen years in the Central Bohemian town of Slaný in the Czech Republic, many people, even her father, had suggested that Marjeta become a model. Czech girls had become famous in Europe and the world for their beauty and clean sexuality. Modeling offers were frequent and generous.
But Marjeta knew the truth behind the glamorous façade. Despite the offers, legitimate fashion jobs were rare. Most “models” were soon forced into more and more revealing outfits and poses. Before they knew it, they were posing for pornography, raped by the “producers” and their friends, and forced to work as “escorts” for the many European or American men who came to Prague looking for sex.

Marjeta was a devote Catholic girl, raised by her mother to be “pure” until marriage. The little “dating” she had done was closely escorted by her mother.
What Marjeta wanted, what she dreamed of, was going away. It is not well known outside of the Czech Republic, but the favorite foreign country there is Britain. TV, books, media from the UK all feed a desire to be there. Many young people yearn for a chance at a job in England. So did Marjeta. She studied English intently in school and read and researched everything she could about her desired home.
One day, Marjeta came across an advertisement for an Au-pair girl for a family near Stirling, Scotland. She was so excited! Like many in Czechia, she was unaware of the difference between England and Scotland.
The girl did her research. The agency had an excellent reputation. There were references with respectable organizations and even with the UK government. Marjeta applied. After taking the application, the agency had a local representative of the Czech National Employment Service in Prague interview her. He was blown away with her references, intelligence, gentle personality, and stunning good looks. She got the job.

The agency flew Marjeta to Edinburgh and escorted her to Stirling. There she met a friendly young couple, James and Derre Darling, with a delightful three-year-old daughter. They both worked long hours in Stirling for an international Pharmaceutics firm, and they were delighted with the sweet, friendly Czech girl.
Unfortunately, after three months, their company informed the couple that they would be transferred to Canada to the Toronto branch. Marjeta was heartbroken. She would miss them and had already grown to love the sweet little girl. But the worst was that she would have to return home after so short a time in her dream place. When she told the agency of her disappointment, they said they could place her at another home with no trouble.
All shed many tears as the Darlings drove Marjeta to the bus to Edinburgh.

Forty-eight hours later, the agency phoned the Darling home to ask for Marjeta. She had not shown up at the offices. Some effort was made to find the girl, but to naught. The agency wasn’t very surprised. Many a time, a foreign worker went missing like this. There were many reasons: a better-paid job off the books, to move in with a boyfriend, or to just travel around Scotland. The Darlings left for Canada, and the agency turned to other candidates and other placements. Informing her family of her disappearance was overlooked. Any concern for the missing Czech girl in Scotland ended.

Marjeta awoke, groggy. She realized she was gagged and tightly tied spread-eagle. It was dark.
She lay for what seemed hours. Then the light came on - a bright, shaded light directly over her. She could see nothing in the darkened room around her. Then a man’s voice. “Good Morning, Marjeta.” She turned and saw a burly man, stripped to the waist with a black mask over his eyes. “Time to see the lovely product I’ve acquired.” Graeme’s hands went to her throat and began to unbutton her plain cotton blouse.
 
Last edited:
Top Bottom