Barbaria Act 1 Epilogue
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“Have you seen her?” enquired Venetia of Flavia.
“Yes, she was brought back about five pm., Highness.”
“And?”
“Quite useless, I’m afraid. Deeply u*********s. Pity. I would like to have had some immediate reactions from her.” Venetia smiled.
“All in good time, my dear. I expect she’s in a state of shock. Who wouldn’t be?”
“Quite...”
“The best thing is to have her cleaned up - inside and out - then keep her under sedation for forty eight hours. I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before.”
“I’ll arrange it, Highness,” said Flavia.
“Darling, there’s no need to call me Highness when we’re alone. After all, we are now a little more than Princess and courtier.” Venetia was recalling the happy hours they had spent naked in each other’s arms the previous day. “Somehow,” smiled Flavia, “I like calling you Highness. I think I’ll go on doing so.”
“Just as you like, my dear.” At that moment a slave-girl entered their sitting room and fell to her knees.
“Lady Tavia craves an audience, Highness,” she said.
“Have her come in here,” said Venetia.
“Yes, Highness.” The slave-girl rose, bowed low, then left the room.
“Pretty little thing that,” said Venetia. “By the way, Flavia, I don’t mind at all if you play games with any of my slaves.” “Thank you, Highness, I’ll bear that in mind.” Eighteen year old, auburn-haired, Tavia came into the door, striding confidently on long limbs. She wore a short length green jerkin and matching calf-length boots, looking very fetching. Venetia opened her arms to the newcomer and they kissed uninhibited mouth to mouth. Flavia was aware, of course, of Venetia’s total lesbian commitment. Also she realised there was no point in feeling jealous. A ruler could do as she wished.
“You know, Flavia, of course?”
“We’ve met, Highness,” replied Tavia, “but we have not yet become properly acquainted.” She smiled generously at Flavia who smiled back. They both sensed that there was little doubt that there would soon be a closer relationship.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately, Tavia,” said Venetia.
“Well, I’ve been spending rather a lot of time with Miralda. Helping her recuperate and adjust back to her old life-style. It must be traumatic to have been a slave and then be released.”
“It is,” said Flavia softly, “but it is also quite delightful.” Tavia smiled sympathetically at her.
“Poor Miralda had a really rotten time,” said Venetia. “She was very high-born, it seems and when she was taken captive by the Barbarians, she was given to a couple of teenagers, who treated her abominably.”
“Well, she’s getting her own back now,” smiled Tavia.
“Quite right too,” said Venetia. “You, Flavia, were a slave fo Xena’s, weren’t you? That’s why I’m happy to have you help out with her.”
“I assure you it’s a pleasure to do so,” said Flavia with a light laugh.
“It’s Xena I came about,” said Tavia. “I hear you had her fucked around the city. Most amusing.”
“Twice,” said Venetia. “Is she back? I mean, can we see her?” asked Tavia.
“She’ll be ‘hors de combat’ for a couple of days,” said Flavia. “In a state of shock.“
“l’m not surprised,” laughed Tavia. “I wonder how many times she got fucked?”
“In due time, we’ll get her to tell us,” said Venetia. “I’ll let you know when I’m having her brought to me.”
“Thanks... well, I’ll be getting back to Miralda. I think she may be needing my help.”
“And I must go to my bath,” said Venetia, rising. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me, Flavia?”
“Indeed a pleasure, Highness. The two girls followed Venetia from the Royal Chambers, with slaves falling humbly to their knees as they passed.
When Tavia returned to Miralda’s quarters, she found her new friend relaxing in an armchair. Leo was acting as a foot-stool. His penis was not clamped by the large serrated bulldog clip which Miralda was wont to put on him but his balls were painfully clamped by smaller clips. Miralda was drinking red wine from a pewter goblet. She was, thought Tavia, drinking rather a lot these days but then one could hardly blame her after what she had been through.
“Hello, darling,” smiled Miralda, “did you get to see the bitch?”
“Venetia says she will be out for at least forty eight hours,” replied Tavia. “in a state of shock, I gather.”
“Glad to hear it...”
“Venetia suggested we go along when she has her brought to her.”
“I’d like that.” Miralda filled her goblet.
“Where are your other slaves?” asked Tavia.
“On the Treadmills,” replied Miralda casually, “and they’ll be on them for another hour yet.”
“Ah well,” laughed Tavia, “keeps them fit, I suppose.” She seated herself on the arm of Miralda’s chair and slipped a hand into her dark blue robe. She gently clasped a beautiful breast.
“Feeling in the mood?” she asked.
“Mmmmm...” sighed Miralda, “I always seem in the mood when you’re around.”
“Thank you, darling, that’s a nice compliment.” Leo got a painful kick in the ribs.
“Move,” snapped Miralda. Leo crawled quickly away... but not quickly enough. He got another even more painful kick from Tavia between the cleft of his nates. Leo whinnied with pain. Arms around each other, the two women made their way into the bedroom. Soon they were naked and on the bed, gasping and sighing at the pleasure they were bringing each other. Miralda’s pleasure was heightened by the thought of what was going on in the room at the end of the apartment.
Gasping and groaning, both sweating profusely, Karena and Zena were both held with their arms aloft, their wrists held by manacles in a beam above them. Below them each was what looked like a small wooden watermill, circular and composed of a series of heavy timbered steps. These were Treadmills, the victim put upon them having to mount never-ending steps, the wheel turning slowly. If the girl’s feet did not leave the lower step in time and move on up to the next one, she would hang most painfully by from her arms.
That might be some relief for her aching legs and thighs but it was not something that could be maintained for too long. Moreover, the wheel would not be turning... and each girl had been given a set number of turns to achieve. Progress was recorded in a large glass hour-glass alongside each Treadmill. Each turn of the wheel triggered off a device which released a small amount of sand from the top of the hour-glass into the bottom half. Over the lower hour glass were graduated lines, spaced twenty five turns apart, which indicated how many turns each girl had made. Miralda had set Karena and Zena the task of making two hundred and fifty turns in two hours, which was fractionally over twenty turns every minute. The Treadmills were heavy and it took considerable effort to turn them. It took great effort to turn them at anything like a good speed. Miralda had not made the task of her slaves an easier by fastening heavy iron manacles around their ankles!
After about an hour, Karena had made one hundred and four turns and Zena ninety eight. The target required was one hundred and twenty. There was a moaning cry from Zena as she missed her step and hung, straining, by her arms. “Oooooh... I can’t go on... I C-CAN’T...” she wailed.
“You... hhaaahhh... m-ust... must... hhaaahhh...” panted Karena, still turning her wheel. She was a taller and more powerful girl than Zena.
“I... ooooohhhh... I j-just can’t ...” sobbed Zena.
“If... hhhaaaahhhh... you stop... hhhaaaahhhh... hhaaahhh... you know... she’ll flog you to r-ribbons...”
“O-Ohhh... oooohhh... why don’t the Gods... st-strike m-me... dead!” Groaning horribly, Zena forced herself to raise her aching limbs again, placing a foot on the next step up. The muscles in her limbs seemed to be literally on fire. Slowly the Treadmill began to move again. After another five minutes, Zena had passed the hundred mark but she knew she was well short of her target.
Miralda and Tavia lay happily in bed for an hour. Though both were, in fact, bisexual they far preferred women. Miralda, indeed, had decided she would never have a man again after the way she had been treated when she was a slave. It was just possible, she thought, that she might like Tavia, or some other attractive girl, to use a dildo on her. One strapped on in place of a penis. Yes, that might be rather fun. For she would be being pleasured gently and lovingly by an understanding female, not some piggishly selfish brute male.
“It’s about time we went to see how those two are getting on,” said Miralda at length.
“And possibly give them some encouragement,” laughed Tavia. They slipped off the bed and put on their jerkin-style robes, Miralda’s white, Tavia’s green. First they went into the living room because both felt in need of a goblet or two of wine. It was satisfying to see that Leo was still in the same position in which Tavia had kicked him. Except when he was on duty or acting on orders, Leo was not permitted to move about of his own free will. He must get a directive, as he did at that moment.
“Wine, slave, for both of us,” said Miralda. Leo got quickly but stiffly to his feet, still feeling the painful bite of the clips clamping his balls. But he had to be thankful. He had not got the big clamp biting into his penis itself. He bowed low to each woman as he deferentially served the wine. Suddenly Leo felt his prick seized quite painfully by Miralda. “Have you had a fuck today?” she asked, “I can’t remember.”
“N-No... no... Mistress...”
“Then wank yourself now, slave,” ordered Miralda, drinking deep from the goblet. Wearing the ball clips, it was painful for Leo to masturbate. But he didn’t delay. Soon his hand was moving fast and his prick was bone solid. There was lustful pleasure but always the pain of the clips. These women were she-devils, seemingly naturally expert in the art of cruelty.
“What a filthy b**st he is, remarked Tavia, re-filling Miralda’s goblet.
“Utterly revolting,” said Miralda. She drank down her wine in one and tossed the goblet aside.
“Come on... let’s go... and leave him to it.” The two young women rose and swept out of the room. Panting, half-sobbing, Leo went on masturbating until he ejaculated. Having carefully cleared up the mess he had made, he remained kneeling in the same position. After all, he had received no order to move, had he?
Miralda opened the door of the room which contained the two Treadmills. The sight of the two naked sweating bodies... and the sounds of groans and rasping breath... delighted her. For a few seconds she watched the leaden limbs lumbering up and on laboriously. The amount of effort it took was very evident. Then Miralda strolled over and studied Karena’s hourglass. The sand indicated her tally of turns was two hundred and twenty six... which was really quite a good effort. Karena, however, was obviously nearing the end of her tether.
“Not very impressive,” commented Miralda. “You’ll get a caning when you come off this contraption.” A despairing wail came from Karena. After all her hideous effort, she was still to be punished. Now Miralda moved to Zena. The number of turns stood at two hundred and one and Zena was nearing total exhaustion.
“Even less impressive,” said Miralda. “So you’ll get a caning too, my girl, and a more severe one.
“M-Merceeee... merceeee...” whimpered Zena in a cracked voice, “O-O-Ohhh Mistress... oooohhh... l-let me st-top...” “Let’s give them some encouragement, Tavia,” said Miralda and took down a strap off the wall. Tavia followed suit. Each strap was two and a half feet long, three inches wide and nearly a half an inch thick. The leather was a rich red-brown colour and well-oiled. That was one of Leo’s jobs. Tavia stood behind Karena’s rolling, sweating buttocks; Miralda stood behind Zena’s.
“I want this wheel turning faster, you slack bitch!” bellowed Miralda.
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! The strap fell resoundingly over both buttock cheeks and a howl of pain erupted from Zena. Her steps were checked momentarily, but were resumed at a somewhat faster pace. Miralda smiled with grim pleasure. A slave often thought she could go on no longer but additional pain made her think otherwise.
“Move that arse... MOVE it!” demanded Tavia. “Faster... faster!”
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! Karena got similar treatment to Zena... and liked it just as little. A cry of despairing torment was torn from her. Blinded by sweat and tears, she was aware that there were at least twenty more turns to be made. And now that deadly, burning strap was waiting to fall. She ground her teeth, making a supreme effort. “That’s what I like to see,” laughed Tavia. “ENTHUSIASM!”
“There’s not enough of it here,” said Miralda. And Zena got her second stroke.
TTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! For the time being, Tavia held back. In her view, making definite extra effort deserved to escape extra punishment.
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! Zena got it again and her gasping cries echoed round the small room.
“I said FASTER, bitch!” Miralda almost snarled. She had had a little too much to drink and memories of what this young woman had once done to her were still hot in her blood. Tavia waited until Karena seemed to be slowing down a little again. She still had eighteen turns to make.
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! This time it was Karena’s turn to feel blazing leather. Somehow the gasping, wailing girl managed to increase her effort again. She was sobbing with the awful strain. Tavia loved the way her shapely bottom rolled and juddered as she mounted the never-ending steps. The swathes of torment across it were a deep rosy-red hue. A cane was going to feel truly excruciating when laid over such an already tenderised surface! Alongside her, Tavia heard Miralda laying on with considerable frequency. A glance showed her that Zena’s bottom was not only rosy-red in colour, it was purpling. Continuously, Miralda berated her victim for lack of effort. Scarcely just... but then, justice didn’t really come into it. Tavia spared Karena until she had six more turns to make. Then, as each new turn began, she cracked the strap down across the convulsing buttocks, driving the girl on right to the limit. At last the required two hundred and fifty turns were reached.
The wheel stood motionless. Karena, with head hanging, moaned feebly. She was half-fainting with sheer exhaustion. Meanwhile, Zena, who still had some twenty more turns to make, continued to receive Miralda’s close attention. The wheel turned more and more slowly but no amount of burning leather could induce Zena to greater effort. She simply had nothing left. However, Miralda made sure the girl completed the full number of turns allotted her. Back in the living room, Miralda and Tavia grinned at each other happily.
“It’s nice to make them sweat their guts out,” giggled Tavia.
“Isn’t it just!” agreed Miralda. The adrenalin was flowing fast... and the evening wasn’t yet over. Leo had been sent to bring both girls to the room, also to install two Punishment Blocks at one end of it. They now stood ready, the securing straps hanging down, the leather hump at the end curving high. Karena was brought in first. She was slung like a sack of coals over Leo’s shoulder. He liked the feel of her soft young body against him.
“Give her a strong potion and put her over one of the Blocks,” ordered Miralda.
“Mercy... m-mercy ...” begged Karena weakly. “No more... aaaagghh... no more!”
How often, thought Miralda, had she made a similar plea and had it turned down. Well, this one would be completely ignored! Weeping hysterically, Karena was strapped down helpless over the Block, with straps encircling wrists, thighs and the small of her back. Leo went off to fetch Zena and Tavia ran her hand over Karena’s red-glowing buttocks. She felt her flinch, even with that gentle touch.
“Nice and warm,” said Tavia.
“Good...” said Miralda with relish in her voice. Zena was brought in, still in a half-fainting condition. She was given not only a potion but also the smoking sticks before she too was secured. She was sobbing and moaning half-dementedly, scarcely able to conceive it possible she was going to be punished further. Her red-purple buttocks (no white flesh to be seen) were certainly in a worse condition than those of Karena. But Miralda was in no hurry to proceed. It would do no harm to have the two brood a while on what was coming to them... for she had already pronounced sentence.
“Twelve strokes of the cane for Karena, twenty four for Zena.” The wailing and the pleading rose afresh when she had pronounced it. Miralda and Tavia seated themselves on a long, low couch, piled high with cushions. Leo busied himself keeping their goblets filled with red wine. Soon he was sent to fetch an opium pipe, which the girls contentedly shared. What with carnal lust, drink and dope, the girls were certainly getting very high! Thus a pleasant half an hour or so passed. With Karena and Zena waiting. And waiting... and waiting. Each with her bottom seemingly on fire.
In due time the two girls rose from the couch. They were not drunk but they were certainly not sober. They were very relaxed and rather giggly.
“Would you like to continue to deal with Karena?” asked Miralda.
“Mmmmm... yes... I’ve already grown rather attached to that shapely young arse,” said Tavia.
“Just twelve strokes,” said Miralda. “The girl should consider herself lucky.“
“M-Mercy... m-mercy... mercy...” Karena was whining, in between heaving sobs. She did not know how she was possibly going to endure the cane on flesh that was already burning so fierily. It was inhuman to treat her so!
“And I’ll deal with Zena,” said Miralda grimly. “Twenty four strokes for her!”
“Nooo... nooooo... nnnooooo...” Zena’s voice was cracked but urgent in its plea. “Ooooohhhh... I’d... rather... d-die!”
“I expect you would,” said Miralda with a sadistic, gleeful flash of white teeth. She picked up a meaty-looking willow cane and measured her victim’s taut-thrusting buttocks. Tavia was similarly measuring Karena. Then it began...
The room was filled with the harsh-whistling sound of the rods falling. But that was only the minimal part of the sounds in the room. The rest became a ghastly cacophony of hideous shrieking and howling. One could have been in a slaughter house. Twin-tracked purple weals leapt up over the reddened flesh. Within the limitations imposed by their bonds, the two bottoms twisted and juddered quite frenziedly. Each mouth became one long gaping slit of awful torment. Eyes were bolting from each head as tears cascaded down. After twelve strokes, Tavia tossed aside her cane, but Miralda continued with merciless venom.
“Put some smoking sticks under her nostrils,” Miralda called. She wasn’t going to have this girl passing out on her. Tavia was happy to oblige. Choking and retching, Zena continued to shriek and howl until her vocal chords cracked completely. Then just rattling sounds jetted from her throat. And, despite the smoking sticks, she had lost consciousness by the time the twenty fourth stroke had fallen. Miralda slumped down on the couch, panting. Her eyes were glowing. At last she was beginning to think she was being amply revenged for all she had suffered at the hands of these two six-teen year-olds!
From the couch, the two girls had an excellent view of the havoc they had wrought over the two sets of buttocks. Each was a mass of red and purple, edged with yellow and black. Broad swathes produced by the leather, ridged weals by the cane. The flesh twitched and shuddered almost constantly under the incessant relentless pain. Miralda and Tavia continued to drink steadily. What did it matter? They could have a nice long lie-in tomorrow.
“I don’t think these two have been fucked today,” said Miralda in a slurred voice. It was part of her discipline that Karena and Zena should be fucked at least once a day... and, preferably, several times.
“No... I think that’s right,” agreed Tavia. “Leo said he hadn’t had a fuck and we haven’t had anybody sent in.”
“Well, we will now,” smiled Miralda lasciviously. She much enjoyed having these two youngsters ****d with regularity. She scribbled a note and handed it to Leo.
“Take this to the Head Overseer,” she ordered, “and be quick about it!”
Leo bowed and hurried from the room. He glanced at the note when he had left. It read: KINDLY HAVE FOUR WELL-HUNG SLAVES SENT TO MY QUARTERS. Leo grimaced. It didn’t look as if he would be getting a fuck that day after all. Five minutes later, four burly nude male slaves came into the room, bowing low in a most servile fashion. However, they did not look frightened or dejected. They well knew what their task might be... and the sight of two well thrashed sets of naked buttocks confirmed it.
“Come here, Leo,” ordered Miralda, “I don’t want you getting over-excited.” He went to her, trembling with dread. He knew what was going to happen. The large bulldog clip was clamped behind his phallic head and he cried out with pain, then doubled up, whimpering. Tavia grinned.
“I don’t think he likes that thing one little bit,” she said.
“That’s my impression, too,” said Miralda. She looked at the four slaves. “These female slaves of mine,” she went on, “are going to suck two of you while they are being fucked by the other two. Release them and get yourselves organised.” The four slaves went quickly to work, unbuckling straps. Karena and Zena sobbed and moaned with pain and horror. The slightest movement was an increased torment in their buttocks. But the four male slaves were unconcerned with that. They had been given a pleasurable job to do and they were going to get on with it. One of them, who had already come to half-erection, fondled Karena’s breasts.
“I’ll have this little beauty suck me,” he said.
“And I’ll fuck the arse off her,” said his companion. They moved the sobbing girl on to her hands and knees on the floor. The other two slaves were dealing likewise with Zena. That Miralda’s instructions about all four slaves being well hung had been carried out was very evident. The slave who had chosen Karena, knelt in front of her whilst he continued to fondle her breasts. He came quickly to full erection.
“Like that, my little beauty?” he asked. “I do hope so, because you’re going to suck it good.” Meanwhile the other slave had gone round behind Karena and gripped her flanks. He was not yet properly in erection but pulled Karena’s thighs apart and played with her pussy. Soon he had achieved the desired solidity.
“Ready, Gerv?”
“Ready, mate!” Gerv gripped Karena by her hair and pulled her head down. “Get your mouth around that, girl,” he said thickly. Whimpering, shuddering, Karena made herself do so. She was well aware that any hesitation would be punished. Yes... even in their terrible state, they could still be punished. As she took the big, hard organ in and began to suck, she was entered massively from the rear. She let out a wail and her head jerked momentarily up. Oh what a size the brute was! Then her head went down again and she resumed sucking. The ramrod bone at her rear continued to lunge and lunge.
Karena was aware that she was going to be well and truly fucked.Zena, also sucking assiduously, had been aware of this too. She was getting ten thickly-girthed inches of male flesh with every thrust. Already it was consuming her; soon it would conquer her. The four male slaves worked steadily. They knew they had to keep up a good performance and were determined to do so. Miralda and Tavia looked on in smug contentment. This was how female slaves should be treated!
“Yes, she was brought back about five pm., Highness.”
“And?”
“Quite useless, I’m afraid. Deeply u*********s. Pity. I would like to have had some immediate reactions from her.” Venetia smiled.
“All in good time, my dear. I expect she’s in a state of shock. Who wouldn’t be?”
“Quite...”
“The best thing is to have her cleaned up - inside and out - then keep her under sedation for forty eight hours. I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before.”
“I’ll arrange it, Highness,” said Flavia.
“Darling, there’s no need to call me Highness when we’re alone. After all, we are now a little more than Princess and courtier.” Venetia was recalling the happy hours they had spent naked in each other’s arms the previous day. “Somehow,” smiled Flavia, “I like calling you Highness. I think I’ll go on doing so.”
“Just as you like, my dear.” At that moment a slave-girl entered their sitting room and fell to her knees.
“Lady Tavia craves an audience, Highness,” she said.
“Have her come in here,” said Venetia.
“Yes, Highness.” The slave-girl rose, bowed low, then left the room.
“Pretty little thing that,” said Venetia. “By the way, Flavia, I don’t mind at all if you play games with any of my slaves.” “Thank you, Highness, I’ll bear that in mind.” Eighteen year old, auburn-haired, Tavia came into the door, striding confidently on long limbs. She wore a short length green jerkin and matching calf-length boots, looking very fetching. Venetia opened her arms to the newcomer and they kissed uninhibited mouth to mouth. Flavia was aware, of course, of Venetia’s total lesbian commitment. Also she realised there was no point in feeling jealous. A ruler could do as she wished.
“You know, Flavia, of course?”
“We’ve met, Highness,” replied Tavia, “but we have not yet become properly acquainted.” She smiled generously at Flavia who smiled back. They both sensed that there was little doubt that there would soon be a closer relationship.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately, Tavia,” said Venetia.
“Well, I’ve been spending rather a lot of time with Miralda. Helping her recuperate and adjust back to her old life-style. It must be traumatic to have been a slave and then be released.”
“It is,” said Flavia softly, “but it is also quite delightful.” Tavia smiled sympathetically at her.
“Poor Miralda had a really rotten time,” said Venetia. “She was very high-born, it seems and when she was taken captive by the Barbarians, she was given to a couple of teenagers, who treated her abominably.”
“Well, she’s getting her own back now,” smiled Tavia.
“Quite right too,” said Venetia. “You, Flavia, were a slave fo Xena’s, weren’t you? That’s why I’m happy to have you help out with her.”
“I assure you it’s a pleasure to do so,” said Flavia with a light laugh.
“It’s Xena I came about,” said Tavia. “I hear you had her fucked around the city. Most amusing.”
“Twice,” said Venetia. “Is she back? I mean, can we see her?” asked Tavia.
“She’ll be ‘hors de combat’ for a couple of days,” said Flavia. “In a state of shock.“
“l’m not surprised,” laughed Tavia. “I wonder how many times she got fucked?”
“In due time, we’ll get her to tell us,” said Venetia. “I’ll let you know when I’m having her brought to me.”
“Thanks... well, I’ll be getting back to Miralda. I think she may be needing my help.”
“And I must go to my bath,” said Venetia, rising. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me, Flavia?”
“Indeed a pleasure, Highness. The two girls followed Venetia from the Royal Chambers, with slaves falling humbly to their knees as they passed.
When Tavia returned to Miralda’s quarters, she found her new friend relaxing in an armchair. Leo was acting as a foot-stool. His penis was not clamped by the large serrated bulldog clip which Miralda was wont to put on him but his balls were painfully clamped by smaller clips. Miralda was drinking red wine from a pewter goblet. She was, thought Tavia, drinking rather a lot these days but then one could hardly blame her after what she had been through.
“Hello, darling,” smiled Miralda, “did you get to see the bitch?”
“Venetia says she will be out for at least forty eight hours,” replied Tavia. “in a state of shock, I gather.”
“Glad to hear it...”
“Venetia suggested we go along when she has her brought to her.”
“I’d like that.” Miralda filled her goblet.
“Where are your other slaves?” asked Tavia.
“On the Treadmills,” replied Miralda casually, “and they’ll be on them for another hour yet.”
“Ah well,” laughed Tavia, “keeps them fit, I suppose.” She seated herself on the arm of Miralda’s chair and slipped a hand into her dark blue robe. She gently clasped a beautiful breast.
“Feeling in the mood?” she asked.
“Mmmmm...” sighed Miralda, “I always seem in the mood when you’re around.”
“Thank you, darling, that’s a nice compliment.” Leo got a painful kick in the ribs.
“Move,” snapped Miralda. Leo crawled quickly away... but not quickly enough. He got another even more painful kick from Tavia between the cleft of his nates. Leo whinnied with pain. Arms around each other, the two women made their way into the bedroom. Soon they were naked and on the bed, gasping and sighing at the pleasure they were bringing each other. Miralda’s pleasure was heightened by the thought of what was going on in the room at the end of the apartment.
Gasping and groaning, both sweating profusely, Karena and Zena were both held with their arms aloft, their wrists held by manacles in a beam above them. Below them each was what looked like a small wooden watermill, circular and composed of a series of heavy timbered steps. These were Treadmills, the victim put upon them having to mount never-ending steps, the wheel turning slowly. If the girl’s feet did not leave the lower step in time and move on up to the next one, she would hang most painfully by from her arms.
That might be some relief for her aching legs and thighs but it was not something that could be maintained for too long. Moreover, the wheel would not be turning... and each girl had been given a set number of turns to achieve. Progress was recorded in a large glass hour-glass alongside each Treadmill. Each turn of the wheel triggered off a device which released a small amount of sand from the top of the hour-glass into the bottom half. Over the lower hour glass were graduated lines, spaced twenty five turns apart, which indicated how many turns each girl had made. Miralda had set Karena and Zena the task of making two hundred and fifty turns in two hours, which was fractionally over twenty turns every minute. The Treadmills were heavy and it took considerable effort to turn them. It took great effort to turn them at anything like a good speed. Miralda had not made the task of her slaves an easier by fastening heavy iron manacles around their ankles!
After about an hour, Karena had made one hundred and four turns and Zena ninety eight. The target required was one hundred and twenty. There was a moaning cry from Zena as she missed her step and hung, straining, by her arms. “Oooooh... I can’t go on... I C-CAN’T...” she wailed.
“You... hhaaahhh... m-ust... must... hhaaahhh...” panted Karena, still turning her wheel. She was a taller and more powerful girl than Zena.
“I... ooooohhhh... I j-just can’t ...” sobbed Zena.
“If... hhhaaaahhhh... you stop... hhhaaaahhhh... hhaaahhh... you know... she’ll flog you to r-ribbons...”
“O-Ohhh... oooohhh... why don’t the Gods... st-strike m-me... dead!” Groaning horribly, Zena forced herself to raise her aching limbs again, placing a foot on the next step up. The muscles in her limbs seemed to be literally on fire. Slowly the Treadmill began to move again. After another five minutes, Zena had passed the hundred mark but she knew she was well short of her target.
Miralda and Tavia lay happily in bed for an hour. Though both were, in fact, bisexual they far preferred women. Miralda, indeed, had decided she would never have a man again after the way she had been treated when she was a slave. It was just possible, she thought, that she might like Tavia, or some other attractive girl, to use a dildo on her. One strapped on in place of a penis. Yes, that might be rather fun. For she would be being pleasured gently and lovingly by an understanding female, not some piggishly selfish brute male.
“It’s about time we went to see how those two are getting on,” said Miralda at length.
“And possibly give them some encouragement,” laughed Tavia. They slipped off the bed and put on their jerkin-style robes, Miralda’s white, Tavia’s green. First they went into the living room because both felt in need of a goblet or two of wine. It was satisfying to see that Leo was still in the same position in which Tavia had kicked him. Except when he was on duty or acting on orders, Leo was not permitted to move about of his own free will. He must get a directive, as he did at that moment.
“Wine, slave, for both of us,” said Miralda. Leo got quickly but stiffly to his feet, still feeling the painful bite of the clips clamping his balls. But he had to be thankful. He had not got the big clamp biting into his penis itself. He bowed low to each woman as he deferentially served the wine. Suddenly Leo felt his prick seized quite painfully by Miralda. “Have you had a fuck today?” she asked, “I can’t remember.”
“N-No... no... Mistress...”
“Then wank yourself now, slave,” ordered Miralda, drinking deep from the goblet. Wearing the ball clips, it was painful for Leo to masturbate. But he didn’t delay. Soon his hand was moving fast and his prick was bone solid. There was lustful pleasure but always the pain of the clips. These women were she-devils, seemingly naturally expert in the art of cruelty.
“What a filthy b**st he is, remarked Tavia, re-filling Miralda’s goblet.
“Utterly revolting,” said Miralda. She drank down her wine in one and tossed the goblet aside.
“Come on... let’s go... and leave him to it.” The two young women rose and swept out of the room. Panting, half-sobbing, Leo went on masturbating until he ejaculated. Having carefully cleared up the mess he had made, he remained kneeling in the same position. After all, he had received no order to move, had he?
Miralda opened the door of the room which contained the two Treadmills. The sight of the two naked sweating bodies... and the sounds of groans and rasping breath... delighted her. For a few seconds she watched the leaden limbs lumbering up and on laboriously. The amount of effort it took was very evident. Then Miralda strolled over and studied Karena’s hourglass. The sand indicated her tally of turns was two hundred and twenty six... which was really quite a good effort. Karena, however, was obviously nearing the end of her tether.
“Not very impressive,” commented Miralda. “You’ll get a caning when you come off this contraption.” A despairing wail came from Karena. After all her hideous effort, she was still to be punished. Now Miralda moved to Zena. The number of turns stood at two hundred and one and Zena was nearing total exhaustion.
“Even less impressive,” said Miralda. “So you’ll get a caning too, my girl, and a more severe one.
“M-Merceeee... merceeee...” whimpered Zena in a cracked voice, “O-O-Ohhh Mistress... oooohhh... l-let me st-top...” “Let’s give them some encouragement, Tavia,” said Miralda and took down a strap off the wall. Tavia followed suit. Each strap was two and a half feet long, three inches wide and nearly a half an inch thick. The leather was a rich red-brown colour and well-oiled. That was one of Leo’s jobs. Tavia stood behind Karena’s rolling, sweating buttocks; Miralda stood behind Zena’s.
“I want this wheel turning faster, you slack bitch!” bellowed Miralda.
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! The strap fell resoundingly over both buttock cheeks and a howl of pain erupted from Zena. Her steps were checked momentarily, but were resumed at a somewhat faster pace. Miralda smiled with grim pleasure. A slave often thought she could go on no longer but additional pain made her think otherwise.
“Move that arse... MOVE it!” demanded Tavia. “Faster... faster!”
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! Karena got similar treatment to Zena... and liked it just as little. A cry of despairing torment was torn from her. Blinded by sweat and tears, she was aware that there were at least twenty more turns to be made. And now that deadly, burning strap was waiting to fall. She ground her teeth, making a supreme effort. “That’s what I like to see,” laughed Tavia. “ENTHUSIASM!”
“There’s not enough of it here,” said Miralda. And Zena got her second stroke.
TTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! For the time being, Tavia held back. In her view, making definite extra effort deserved to escape extra punishment.
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! Zena got it again and her gasping cries echoed round the small room.
“I said FASTER, bitch!” Miralda almost snarled. She had had a little too much to drink and memories of what this young woman had once done to her were still hot in her blood. Tavia waited until Karena seemed to be slowing down a little again. She still had eighteen turns to make.
TTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKKKKK! This time it was Karena’s turn to feel blazing leather. Somehow the gasping, wailing girl managed to increase her effort again. She was sobbing with the awful strain. Tavia loved the way her shapely bottom rolled and juddered as she mounted the never-ending steps. The swathes of torment across it were a deep rosy-red hue. A cane was going to feel truly excruciating when laid over such an already tenderised surface! Alongside her, Tavia heard Miralda laying on with considerable frequency. A glance showed her that Zena’s bottom was not only rosy-red in colour, it was purpling. Continuously, Miralda berated her victim for lack of effort. Scarcely just... but then, justice didn’t really come into it. Tavia spared Karena until she had six more turns to make. Then, as each new turn began, she cracked the strap down across the convulsing buttocks, driving the girl on right to the limit. At last the required two hundred and fifty turns were reached.
The wheel stood motionless. Karena, with head hanging, moaned feebly. She was half-fainting with sheer exhaustion. Meanwhile, Zena, who still had some twenty more turns to make, continued to receive Miralda’s close attention. The wheel turned more and more slowly but no amount of burning leather could induce Zena to greater effort. She simply had nothing left. However, Miralda made sure the girl completed the full number of turns allotted her. Back in the living room, Miralda and Tavia grinned at each other happily.
“It’s nice to make them sweat their guts out,” giggled Tavia.
“Isn’t it just!” agreed Miralda. The adrenalin was flowing fast... and the evening wasn’t yet over. Leo had been sent to bring both girls to the room, also to install two Punishment Blocks at one end of it. They now stood ready, the securing straps hanging down, the leather hump at the end curving high. Karena was brought in first. She was slung like a sack of coals over Leo’s shoulder. He liked the feel of her soft young body against him.
“Give her a strong potion and put her over one of the Blocks,” ordered Miralda.
“Mercy... m-mercy ...” begged Karena weakly. “No more... aaaagghh... no more!”
How often, thought Miralda, had she made a similar plea and had it turned down. Well, this one would be completely ignored! Weeping hysterically, Karena was strapped down helpless over the Block, with straps encircling wrists, thighs and the small of her back. Leo went off to fetch Zena and Tavia ran her hand over Karena’s red-glowing buttocks. She felt her flinch, even with that gentle touch.
“Nice and warm,” said Tavia.
“Good...” said Miralda with relish in her voice. Zena was brought in, still in a half-fainting condition. She was given not only a potion but also the smoking sticks before she too was secured. She was sobbing and moaning half-dementedly, scarcely able to conceive it possible she was going to be punished further. Her red-purple buttocks (no white flesh to be seen) were certainly in a worse condition than those of Karena. But Miralda was in no hurry to proceed. It would do no harm to have the two brood a while on what was coming to them... for she had already pronounced sentence.
“Twelve strokes of the cane for Karena, twenty four for Zena.” The wailing and the pleading rose afresh when she had pronounced it. Miralda and Tavia seated themselves on a long, low couch, piled high with cushions. Leo busied himself keeping their goblets filled with red wine. Soon he was sent to fetch an opium pipe, which the girls contentedly shared. What with carnal lust, drink and dope, the girls were certainly getting very high! Thus a pleasant half an hour or so passed. With Karena and Zena waiting. And waiting... and waiting. Each with her bottom seemingly on fire.
In due time the two girls rose from the couch. They were not drunk but they were certainly not sober. They were very relaxed and rather giggly.
“Would you like to continue to deal with Karena?” asked Miralda.
“Mmmmm... yes... I’ve already grown rather attached to that shapely young arse,” said Tavia.
“Just twelve strokes,” said Miralda. “The girl should consider herself lucky.“
“M-Mercy... m-mercy... mercy...” Karena was whining, in between heaving sobs. She did not know how she was possibly going to endure the cane on flesh that was already burning so fierily. It was inhuman to treat her so!
“And I’ll deal with Zena,” said Miralda grimly. “Twenty four strokes for her!”
“Nooo... nooooo... nnnooooo...” Zena’s voice was cracked but urgent in its plea. “Ooooohhhh... I’d... rather... d-die!”
“I expect you would,” said Miralda with a sadistic, gleeful flash of white teeth. She picked up a meaty-looking willow cane and measured her victim’s taut-thrusting buttocks. Tavia was similarly measuring Karena. Then it began...
The room was filled with the harsh-whistling sound of the rods falling. But that was only the minimal part of the sounds in the room. The rest became a ghastly cacophony of hideous shrieking and howling. One could have been in a slaughter house. Twin-tracked purple weals leapt up over the reddened flesh. Within the limitations imposed by their bonds, the two bottoms twisted and juddered quite frenziedly. Each mouth became one long gaping slit of awful torment. Eyes were bolting from each head as tears cascaded down. After twelve strokes, Tavia tossed aside her cane, but Miralda continued with merciless venom.
“Put some smoking sticks under her nostrils,” Miralda called. She wasn’t going to have this girl passing out on her. Tavia was happy to oblige. Choking and retching, Zena continued to shriek and howl until her vocal chords cracked completely. Then just rattling sounds jetted from her throat. And, despite the smoking sticks, she had lost consciousness by the time the twenty fourth stroke had fallen. Miralda slumped down on the couch, panting. Her eyes were glowing. At last she was beginning to think she was being amply revenged for all she had suffered at the hands of these two six-teen year-olds!
From the couch, the two girls had an excellent view of the havoc they had wrought over the two sets of buttocks. Each was a mass of red and purple, edged with yellow and black. Broad swathes produced by the leather, ridged weals by the cane. The flesh twitched and shuddered almost constantly under the incessant relentless pain. Miralda and Tavia continued to drink steadily. What did it matter? They could have a nice long lie-in tomorrow.
“I don’t think these two have been fucked today,” said Miralda in a slurred voice. It was part of her discipline that Karena and Zena should be fucked at least once a day... and, preferably, several times.
“No... I think that’s right,” agreed Tavia. “Leo said he hadn’t had a fuck and we haven’t had anybody sent in.”
“Well, we will now,” smiled Miralda lasciviously. She much enjoyed having these two youngsters ****d with regularity. She scribbled a note and handed it to Leo.
“Take this to the Head Overseer,” she ordered, “and be quick about it!”
Leo bowed and hurried from the room. He glanced at the note when he had left. It read: KINDLY HAVE FOUR WELL-HUNG SLAVES SENT TO MY QUARTERS. Leo grimaced. It didn’t look as if he would be getting a fuck that day after all. Five minutes later, four burly nude male slaves came into the room, bowing low in a most servile fashion. However, they did not look frightened or dejected. They well knew what their task might be... and the sight of two well thrashed sets of naked buttocks confirmed it.
“Come here, Leo,” ordered Miralda, “I don’t want you getting over-excited.” He went to her, trembling with dread. He knew what was going to happen. The large bulldog clip was clamped behind his phallic head and he cried out with pain, then doubled up, whimpering. Tavia grinned.
“I don’t think he likes that thing one little bit,” she said.
“That’s my impression, too,” said Miralda. She looked at the four slaves. “These female slaves of mine,” she went on, “are going to suck two of you while they are being fucked by the other two. Release them and get yourselves organised.” The four slaves went quickly to work, unbuckling straps. Karena and Zena sobbed and moaned with pain and horror. The slightest movement was an increased torment in their buttocks. But the four male slaves were unconcerned with that. They had been given a pleasurable job to do and they were going to get on with it. One of them, who had already come to half-erection, fondled Karena’s breasts.
“I’ll have this little beauty suck me,” he said.
“And I’ll fuck the arse off her,” said his companion. They moved the sobbing girl on to her hands and knees on the floor. The other two slaves were dealing likewise with Zena. That Miralda’s instructions about all four slaves being well hung had been carried out was very evident. The slave who had chosen Karena, knelt in front of her whilst he continued to fondle her breasts. He came quickly to full erection.
“Like that, my little beauty?” he asked. “I do hope so, because you’re going to suck it good.” Meanwhile the other slave had gone round behind Karena and gripped her flanks. He was not yet properly in erection but pulled Karena’s thighs apart and played with her pussy. Soon he had achieved the desired solidity.
“Ready, Gerv?”
“Ready, mate!” Gerv gripped Karena by her hair and pulled her head down. “Get your mouth around that, girl,” he said thickly. Whimpering, shuddering, Karena made herself do so. She was well aware that any hesitation would be punished. Yes... even in their terrible state, they could still be punished. As she took the big, hard organ in and began to suck, she was entered massively from the rear. She let out a wail and her head jerked momentarily up. Oh what a size the brute was! Then her head went down again and she resumed sucking. The ramrod bone at her rear continued to lunge and lunge.
Karena was aware that she was going to be well and truly fucked.Zena, also sucking assiduously, had been aware of this too. She was getting ten thickly-girthed inches of male flesh with every thrust. Already it was consuming her; soon it would conquer her. The four male slaves worked steadily. They knew they had to keep up a good performance and were determined to do so. Miralda and Tavia looked on in smug contentment. This was how female slaves should be treated!
Mikhaela
- 30.09.2022
- 20
- 0
