Barbaria Act 1 Chapter 4 free porn video

the first Chapter: http://xhamster.com/user/Victor-Bruno/posts/231207.html
the second Chapter: http://xhamster.com/user/Victor-Bruno/posts/233144.html
the third chapter: http://xhamster.com/user/Victor-Bruno/posts/236131.html

Chapter Four

Personal narrative of Drax, Overseer and Slave Trainer

The return of the fleet with fresh captives always meant a busty time fot those of us whose duties were concerned with the reception and training of slaves. Normally we overseers were mainly concerned with the punishment of male-factors – unless a master or mistress wished some special form of training to be given.
My name is Drax, I am thirty five years old and I have the honour and privilege to be an overseer of the first grade in the Palace of her Highness Princess Alexena. My immediate superior is Ryar, the Chief Overseer.
As usual, I and my colleagues were not concerned at the outset with the dozen or so high-ranking captives, both male and female, who had been set aside for her Highness's inspection. She would first decide whether she would take any as personal slaves or assign them as general Palace slaves. What we were concerned with was those slaves who had been brought at auction by various members of the Court and who had been assigned for preliminary training prior to commencing their duties. Having attended the auction I was quite impressed by the quality of our new captives. The men looked strong and warrior-like, the women seemed to be above average in feature and figure. However, it must be remembered that we in the Palace were only dealing with `the cream´ of the catch... whom, by and large, only members of the Court could affort to purchase. At the auction I was quite gratified when Lady Judilla came up to me and asked me if I would take charge of the five slave girls she had purchased. Not only was she a most influential courtier but I also was well satisfied with the look of the purchases she had made.
Thus is was, I made my way with some pleasurable anticipation, down into the underground cellar of the Palace where the main training Quarters were situated. I admit frankly to that. Only a man who enjoys such tastks and duties as mine can carry them out with skill and efficiency. This I do. It pleases me inordinately to tame a proud and fiery young woman and, step by step, mould her into a submissive and obedient slave. That is my temperament and, of course, my position gives me ample opportunity to satisfy both my natural and unnatural desires. Such licence is permitted to overseers of the first grade, unless explicit orders have been given to the contrary. Lady Judilla had given no such orders. All she required, within a reasonable time, was the addition of an adequate servile quartet of young women to her already ample retinue.
My usual assistant on such occasions was Bela. She was a tall, square-shouldered woman of around thirty years with strong and striking features, lithe and firm of figure. Her appearance rather than detracted by the fact that she was one quarter Negroid, her skin being an attractive light-dusky colour. We enjoyed each other frequently, despite the many other distractions available. She, I knew, would have prepared the four young women for my arrival and their first taste of the true meaning of slavery in Barbaria.
I entered the quarters and passed through a section were some of the male captives were already learning to lose some of their bold and warrior-like qualities and to adjust themselves to a mode of life that was both arduous and degrading. Here I paused briefly to watch one of our more recently overseers at work. Her name was Valda and she was worth watching for not only did she have an unhibited enthusiasm for her job but also a natural expertise with the whip.
She had been assigned a group of six husky young brutes. Five of these stood in a line... all pale, tense and sweating... their handcuffed wrists attached to a short length of chain running to their genitalia where a tight ring was fastened cruelly and humiliatingly. A common enough form of restraint. The six was similarly manacled but also fastened at the neck and ankles to a whipping post. He was bellowing his lungs out and uttering chokes cries for mercy as Valda worked her way methodically down his rippling back with the whip. She wore only a brief, skin-fitting leotard and high-heeled boots and was raising the welts with superb artistry, spacing the long, vivid-red ridges two inches apart. She was fully absorbed in her task, teeth clenched, eyes bright, not stinting herself with each full-sweeping, cracking stroke. When she reached the man's taut muskular buttocks, his bellows seemed to intensify... and this seemed to inspire Valda to even greater efforts. He was, I reflected, certainly getting a flogging he would remember for many a day. Precisely Valda's intention, of course. Then, with artistry of an expert, Valda stopped just before the man had reached the obvious limits of his endurance – strong and brave though he might be. Then she stepped back and signed to the two young women assistants who stood already. At the moment she saw me and flashed a warm, friendly smile, breasts heaving with exertions and, I was aware, with the excitement that surged within her.
„A though looking lot,“ she said.
I nodded. „But I'm sure you can cope with them,“ I smiled in return.
„I'm sure too,“ she answered. The man, released, slumped gasping at her feet. There was no longer much of the look of the warrior about him!
„Now,“ rasped Valda, placing one booth firmly on his neck, „would you like to go up again for another taste of my whip... or will you lick my boots and address me as `Mistress´ as I originally ordered?“
There wasn't any doubt about the wretch's decision. „M-Mistress... M-Mistress,“ he croaked several times, his tongue then coming out to lick avidly at the toe and heel of the boot which remained on the floor. Valda smiled faintly to herself as she looked down and when she deemed the man had adequatly displayed his humility she gave him a final lashing stroke across his rump and ordered him to resume his place alongside his colleagues in misfortune. He could scarcely stand, but somehow he managed to obey the order. The incentive of the dangling whip must have been exceedingly strong.
Valda then faced the line, running her hands through the well-oiled whip thong.
„Are any others who now wish to display their manly virtues?“ she enquired evenly. It seemed that there were not, though several looked furiously sullen. The demonstration had gone home.
„Very well,“ continued Valda after a long pause, „each of you in turn will now show your servitude to me and address me appropriately.“
One by one the men got down on their knees and humbles themselves in the manner she prescribed. Some trembled with the effort it cost their pride, but all of them licked the boots of their mistress to her full satisfaction. But, I knew, only a beginning. There was a long way to go yet until they were formed into the right mental and physical mould. Even as I turned to go I heard Valda announcing that since they had displayed some measure of respect, each slave would escape more lightly than the first had done. Each, as a simple demonstration of her authority, and as a foretaste of what they might expect in the future for misbehaviour, would receive only ten strokes of her whip! The first of the five was already being secured to the whipping post as I left the chamber.
A corridor led to the series of chambers where the slave women were trained and I entered one where Bela had already brought my charges. As I say, there were five of them and my first impression of the choiceness of them was immediately confirmed. I do not think, however, they cared much for the look of me! I carry out all my training work nude but for a brief white leathern support and as I am a big, muscular kind of fellow, the sight of me, apart from anything else, must have been somewhat fearsome. Certainly their expressions said so.
Bela advanced smiling after I had closed the door.
„I have the list and details here, Sir,“ she saif. We always addressed each other with formality in public.
„Thank you, Miss Bela,“ I said, taking the sheaf of papers. Like me, Bela preferred usually to do her training in a state of near nudity. She had on only a white G-String and a pair of superb thigh length boots of white k** with spike heels which raised her stature from near six to six feet six inches. On a level with myself, in fact, her breasts, not over-large, were very firm and well-shaped; she had the smoothest of bellies, long limbs and there was not an ounce of fat on her. Her skin had a dusky satin sheen to it.
Cursorily I studied the details and then the line of girls. Each was stark naked and had been secured with the back of her head against a horizontal beam withr an across the room. This securing was done by means of a leather collar, the back of which was attached to a small ringbolt in the beam. Each girl's wrists were similar fastened to the beam, some twelve inches on reach side of her head. There was no other form of restraint, but what they had was quite adequate to make them helpless. They were spaced six feet apart and the one at the right hand of the line was already crying softly. In the eyes of all was a mingled look composed of terror, defiance and shame.
„Have you explained the position, Miss Bela?“ I asked. „Their new status? And how honoured they are to have chosen to serve Lady Judilla?“
All the time my eyes were roving the line and liking more what I saw. They were all young, pretty and exceedingly shapely. A glance at the list confirmed that the oldest was no more than twenty. Which one, I wondered idly, would I be enjoying to the full within an hour or two?
„Yes, Sir,“ Bela answered. „But they do not seem exactly ready to accept it. Nor are they sensible of the honour.“ She smiled a glittering full-toothed smile.
„Aahhhh... „ I sighed. Then I moved slowly to a bench against the side wall and from off it selected the disciplinary instrument of correction I most usually employed on these initiatory occasions. It was a slim rod of hard whale-bone, smoothed and polished, very whippy, which tapered from the thickness of a little finger at the grip end to less than half that diameter at the tip.
Altough not a severe instrument by Palace standards, it had great advantages during initiatory treatment. It was quite adequately painful, especially when employed on soft, inexperienced flesh, yet it could be employed with frequency and in good quantity. Unlike, of course, the sort of whip Valda was using, which would soon either reduce the victim to a state of unsensibility or to pulp. In training, in breaking a slave – especially a femal one – one learns there have to be degress. Undue severity at the outset is not always best... though there may be occasions when it is imperative. Punishment of a trained slave is another matter. Restraint does not then come in. The correction as ordered by master or mistress then has to be carried out to achieve maximum effect.
I moved and stood before the first girl in the line, gently flexing the slim, hard rod. Her hair was the same colour as her eyes – a very light brown – and it was short and soft. At my first quick appraisal I had reckoned her rather more plump than any of the others. Her naked breasts were certainly very full and so was the swell of her hips. Probably puppy fat, as they call it, I thought. She would fine down beautyfully a little later.
„What's your name?“ I asked. It was recorded on her sheet of details, but that was of no matter.
Her eyes were darting from side to side, her pale lips trembled and there was the rose-pink flush in her cheeks which I knew was for shame at her blatant nudity before a strange male. Her white throat moved.
„Leila,“ she managed to whisper.
Without haste, but with no undue delay, I lashed the whalebone rod across her left flank. So supple was it, I knew that it would not only cut into the swell of her flank but that the last six inches or so of it would whip round and bite into her left buttock cheek.
„You address me as `Master´,“ I said as her piercing cry rang through the room.
The cry went up and up... gaspingly... as she squirmed and juddered uncontrollably, those bit white breasts swinging and bouncing wildly. Since she had been one of those (as all the others here) who had been specially selected and set aside on the voyage to Barbaria, and thus neither chastised or unduly m*****ed, that cut from the rod was probably the first true pain she had ever experienced.
Certainly it was the most effective. Already, one could see, that she realised that Bela's words and warnings had not been bluff. Not just threazs. This was real. It is, I may say, most exceedingly satisfying to be the one to implant that realisation in a young slave girl.
„What is your name?“ I repeated when she had got her breath back. A thin red weal curled around her left flank.
„L-Leila... Leila... M-M-Master,“ she said after a few strangled efforts.
„And your age, Leila?“ I nodded.
„S-s*******n... o-only... seven... teen,“ she answered, the tears filling her eyes, her head drooping.
This time I gave her a backhand cut across her right flank. With equally satisfactory visual and vocal results.
„Have you forgotten so soon, girl?“ I asked, in a tone bordering on weary disbelief.
„N-No... ooo … no... oooh… no... Master... no Master,“ she cried out as she still squirming and juddering at the fiery-thin pain.
„I... I'm s*******n... Master...s*******n... M-Master.“
She's learning fast, I thought. Not much spirit in this one. She'll be as supple as a glove in no time. Lucky for her, one might say.
„It hurts, doesn't it, Leila?“ I asked.
„Yes... ohhh... y-yes... Master,“ she replied. „Yes... Master,“ she repeated as if to make quite certain of no omission.
„It's meant to, Leila,“ I said smoothly. „It's meant to make you respectful and obedient. Absolutely obedient. As a slave must be. Do you understand?“
„Y-yes... yes... Master,“ she sobbed as the tears trickled down her soft, pink cheeks.
I moved around behind her. She was certainly very buxom. The two thin red weals perfectly bisected the two white half-moons of her nates. Casually I ran my hand down between the warm, soft cleft, fondling her. Her reaction was violent, as I expected it to be. She swung away as best she could, half twisting her quarters round.
„Don't... don't touch me... don't... you... m-mustn't no... oooh... don't!“
Stepping back I gave her five good wristy cuts across her plump nates. She screamed ear-splitting and the writhing of her hindquarters and the jelly-juddering convulsion of her lush flesh was quite remarkable to see. Again I must be frank when I state I enjoyed giving her those cuts. To discipline a young girl for the first time gives one a unique pleasure. There is no point in denying it.
When her cries had died away to sob and her nates were twitching and contracting rather than squirming, I spoke again.
„Leila,“ I said,“ that is the third time you have failed to address me as you should. How long do I have to go on telling you? Do you want a really good thrashing to make you remember?“
„No! Ooooh... n-nooo... Master... no Master... no... ooo!“ she cried out in really anguish.
„What is more,“ I went on as I moved closer, „if a Master wishes to fondle a slave, she does not resist him. To the contrary in fact. In time you will come to see it as an honour. Meanwhile, I make some allowance for your youth and inexperience.“
I fondled her again. And this time, though she twisted and turned out of sheer instinct to avoid me, it was not with the same v******e. Nor did she protest verbally, merely moaning and sobbing despairingly. Over her shoulder I saw the hard glint of amusement in Bela's eyes. I gave Leila's bottom a none to gentle slap and moved around to face her again. Her cheeks were crimson, her eyes puffed and red with tears.
„Are we beginning to understand each other a little better?“ I asked with pseudo-gentleness.
„Y-Yes... Master... yes... Master,“ she whimpered feebly. Her whole lush body was quaking like a jelly. She didn't want to feel the rod again without any doubt. But, as she knew, the only alternative was to submit to my touch.
„Good...good,“ I said. And this time I fondled those full young breasts. They were lovely. Really lovely to the touch. Made all to the morelovely by the way she jerked and cringed in a vain attempt to escape me.
„No... Master... p-please... M-Master... oooh... n-no... Master... please... stoppp... ohh... stopp.“
Needless to say, I did not stop until I'd had my fill of feeling her. She wept unrestrainedly, protested and pleaded, twisted and turned. All to no avail, of course. It was the right kind of introduction to her new life and, as I say, I made allowance for her instinctive reactions. In a week or so she would behave very differently when called upon to please. She would submit fully; give unrestrainedly. As every slave girl was taught to do.
I moved on to the next in line... to a girl who I had already noted was the most outstanding of all five. A reference to my list showed she was also the oldest, even though she was still but nineteen. She was tall and superbly shaped – fully fined down and mature – with blue eyes and very light blonde hair that hung straight and soft, almost waist length. It was, at the moment that I first faced her, partially concealing her high rounded breasts. I liftet the tresses and placed them so that they hung down her back. She looked at me with venomous hatred in those blue eyes and I saw her teeth were clenched tight.
„A slave girl mustn't be shy,“ I said grinned at her. „She must learn to display her charms, not hide them.“
„You... b**st,“ she almost hissed through those clenched teeth. „How can you be so vile?Your whole r-race is vile... men and women... all of you. You... you... are monsters!“
I not only liked the look of her, I liked the sound of her. Here was a girl with spirit and fire. Certainly far more than Leila possessed. I ignored her remarks and eyed her coolly. She was going to be delightful when I ultimately possessed her. „Name?“ I queried.
There was a long pause.
„I will tell you nothing,“ she said at last. „Nothing! Kill me if you wish! But nothing... nothing... you b**st!“ Then she spat in my face.
I was even more delighted. It is always good to make one example at a first session and even better when it is truly deserved. Bela came quickly forward and wiped away the spittle.
„Ah... ha,“ I said, „a tigress to be tamed. You agree, Miss Bela?“
„Indeed, Sir,“ she replied, regarding the tense-quivering with vicious pleasure. „Rarely have I seen such bare-faced impudence. She must be soundly flogged.“
„Agreed,“ I nodded. „Therefore, Miss Bela, would you be so good as to secure her in the customary position for such a procedure?“
Bela went to work with swift proficiency and it was impossible for the girl – whose name was Cindra – to resist. But I gathered she was already beginning to regret her rashness. Raising each leg high in turn, Bela shackled it by the ankle to the wrist cuff set in the cross beam. Thus Cindra's limbs were in a V-shape and she hung suspended by wrists and ankles with her shapely posterior curving up, swinging slightly back and forth. A posture which though both humiliating and painful for her, was most convenient as well as delightfully revealing. At the same time, I had to also admire her courage, she made neighter plea or protest as she looked between the V of her legs with eyes filled with mingled shame, shock and dread.
I went over to the bench and picked up a whalebone birch. It was composed of slivers of whalebone like the one I had used on Leila. There were five of them joined together in a leather-corded grip and then splaying out.
„Now,“ I said to the company in general, „you will see and hear what happens to slaves who not only resist their masters but do so with such arrogance.“
It was, I may say, not necessary for any of the others to look to one side in order to witness what was to happen... for a vast ceiling to floor mirror occupied the wall which they faced. Before them they saw the reflection of their own naked degradation and Cindra's in particular.
„I am going to take the skin off your bottom,“ I said as I faced the helpless girl pinioned before me. „Not to mention those lovely long thighs of yours!“
Her eyes dilated, her mouth sagged, as I moved and took up my stance. Then, without more ado – and considerable pleasure – I began to lash her with the multiple slivers.
Leila gad found one at a time agonising enough... and Cindra was feeling five simultaneously! So it is not surprising, for all her courage and her efforts to resist, she found it quite impossible to do so.
I began by laying the hard-smooth whippy sliver across the softness of her upturned buttocks, using the full sweep of my arm. In no time at all, she was not only swinging back and forth,but also writhing and contorting frantically. Uninhibited screams burst from her gaping mouth – the mouth in which a pink tongue flickered – and tears jetted from those blue eyes widened in torment and shock.
When I had given her ten across her madly squirming bottom (remember – that was fifty individual streaks of biting-burning pain) I saw that she was near to fainting. But the experienced Bela was to hand and was soon waving acrid-burning twigs beneath Cindra's dilated nostrils. That brought her adequately back to full sensibility and I renewed my assault. Now I slashed the whalebone rods across her tender-soft insides of her thighs, placing my strokes alternately left and right.
If anything, Cindra's wild contortions intensified, as did her cries. Interspersing those cries now came shriek after shriek for mercy, especially as the twigs began to lash down towards the base of the V, to her most tender femoinine flesh of all.
The torment became too great. Indeed, I found it a little remarkable she had endured so much before swooning, as she did, into full insensibility. This time I did not ask Bela to revive her. For a newcomer to slavery, her punishment had been adequate, even though her fault had been grave.
I regard her for a while as she swung there, her naked body still twitching and quaking. She was certainly exceedingly well striped, but that did not hide her shapeliness or feminine charms.
„If any of you wish to be flogged as Cindra has been,“ I said to my charges, „you will behave similarly to her.“ And I could see by the looks of terror in four pais of eyes, I was going to encounter little more resistance from any of them.
Meanwhile, on my instructions, Bela had unshackled both Cindra's ankles and wrists and she lay slumped on the floor. Then the smoking twigs revived her again and, when she was adequately recovered, I ordered her to kneel before me... kneel, that is, on all fours. She heaved with sobs as she made the efort to obey, wincing with every movement. Temporarily, at least, she was quite broken.
„What is your name, slave?“ I asked.
There came a series of choking sobs. „C-Cindra,“ she managed to say at last.
I did not have to even sigh to Bela who stood behind the kneeling figure with the single whalebone rod poised ready. It came whistling down to bite viciously across Cindra's already tenderised flesh. She shrieked, sprawling forward, clasping at my bare limbs. Momentarily I felt her warm softness of her lush breasts as she hauled herself up.
„Have you not learnt from leila's errors?“ I demanded. „How am I to be addressed?“
„M-Master... m-m-master,“ she gasped out.
„Very well, don't forget in future. If you do, you get five strokes, not just one! Now... kneel as you were before.“
Cindra reluctant obeyed, with nates contracting in dread and hindquarters cringing away under the ever-present threat of Bela's rod.
„Get your bottom well up,“ I ordered crisply. „Miss Bela may need to attent to it again.“
Oh how so reluctantly Cindra obeyed! But obey she did.
„Now,“ I continued, “you stated a little earlier that you will tell me nothing? Have you changed your mind?“
„Yes... m-master... yes... yes... master... „ she sobbed.
„And you will tell me anything?“
„Y-Yes... master.“
„Are you a virgin?“
The question obviously shocked her and she was slow in answering. Bela gave her another hard cut. When she had recovered from the effects of it and resumed her posture – with hindquarters even more upthrust – I repeated the question.
„No... m-master,“ she answered hoarsely.
I tut-tutted. „And you so young, too,“ I said with a smile. „Still, no matter, you would not have remained a virgin long here in any event.“ I looked up and down the line. „And that applies to all of you, whatever your condition,“ I said. „For you are all here to please those who own you – be they man or woman. You will do whatever they demand of you. Let me make that clear at the outset.“ By their looks I reckon my point had gone home!
I looked down at Cindra.
„Kiss my feet,“ I ordered the girl who, so little before, had been so strong and proud. Perhaps there was still a little of that pride remaining, or perhaps she was just exhausted. In any event her reactions were too slow again. But not so Bela's! The rod whiplashed down yet again.
Once... twice! It sent Cindra sprawling and squirming across the floor... but, in only a few moments, she was kissing my feet with the utmost slavish devotion!
This final act of humiliation obeisance satisfied me that Cindra had indeed fully learnt her first lesson in slavery... and, what was more, the power of the rod would not have been lost upon the others. Such methods as I had used are, of course, basic to slave training. They were simple, direct and effective. They are sufficient for the novitiate. It is only necessary to adopt either more subtle or more severe methods when a fully-trained slave shows signs of disobedience or rebellion.
I ordered Cindra to be re-shackled to the beam. Certainly she made a sorry spectacle compared with the proud beauty who had shown a brief, temporary defiance not long before.
Then I turned my attention to the remaining four. The eyes of all were indeed fearful and apprehensive as I surveyed each in turn. The girl at the end of the line who had been weeping when I arrived was weeping more strongly. After a leisurely survey of their naked charms, I spoke.
„Bela,“ I said, „you will give each of these four a taste of the rod. Five strokes across the buttocks. I want them to know something of what Cindra had suffered... and what is in store for them if, in future, they feel a similar desire for recalcitrance.“
The look in the eyes turned from apprehension to dread, and words of promise and pleading tumbled from their lips, they would obey, they would submit, they would do anything. Yes... oh yes... if only I would spare them.
„Words are simple,“ I pronounced. „It is pain which transforms them into action.“ Then I signed Bela to begin.
As each girl received the rod I stood before her... watching the writing agony, hearing the gasping screams. Bela did not spare herself with those cuts and I know, when it was over, each was glad that she had not been so unfortunate as Cindra. Accustomed as I was to such duties, I was well satisfied; this I can put down to the fact that I was dealing with a group of girls exceptional physical merit. Now the only thing that remained was to chose the one that would make a truly satisfying culmination of the session. That was my privilege and a normal procedure under such circumstances. One might add, it was an essential procedure, for one's desires were naturally strongly aroused by events. I would have first choiceand Bela would have second – if she so wished. For, it need hardly to be said, that, in Barbaria, a slave girl had to satisfy both male and female. In fact, since these girls were owned by Lady Judilla, they were more often going to be satisfying the female.

Once more I surveyed the line. The choice was not easy. Cindra I would have chosen had she not been in such a state of exhaustion. I hesitated over the plump, 17-year-old Leila. There was plenty of her to enjoy and she might well be a virgin. But finally I settled on the girl who stood second from the end of the line. She was dark as Cindra was fair, with raven black hair falling to milk-white shoulders, her eyes as dark as shloes. Her figure could scarcely be faulted, being splendidly proportioned but more finely moulded than Leila's, with high breasts as round and firm as bif apples. The nipples were a golden brown, seeming darker in contrast to that milk-white flesh she possessed. Only Cindra, perhaps could out-match her for beauty for figure and feature.
„Your name, girl?“ I asked.
„Mena... M-Master,“ she answered in a low, servile voice.
„Your age?“
„Nineteen, Master.“
Yes, I thought, the lesson of the rod had certainly gone home with her. I fondled her breasts briefly and then ran my hand down over the smooth curve of her belly. Though she recoiled momentarily and a sob caught her throat, her show of resistance was comparatively small. The lust began to throb more strongly in me. She was going to be very, very enjoyable.
„Well, Mena,“ I said, “it is you who is going to have the honour of first showing how truly submissive as a slave girl you are.“
The look in her liquid-dark eyes showed she understood fully what I meant. What she was going to have to do. A little shudder ran through her and she uttered a low moan. But no more. However reluctant she might be she was aware of both the futility and total consequences of protest of resistance. Good. That was as it should be. I signet to Bela to unshackle her.
Sometime it was my custom to take a girl on a couch set before the group, but it was not my wish on that occasion. Accordingly I had Bela take the girl to my personal room which led off the Training Quarters. I was much in the mood to spend quite some time with this luscious young beauty.
This, I may say, was very evident as soon as Bela had closed the door behind us and I had removed the brief support I had been wearing. The look of shock and bewilderment of Mena's face intensified as she stood before me uncertainly. I could almost see her mind quivering as much as her body. Was she to be brutally ****d? Dare she resist? How was she to act? Indeed, how was she expected to act? All was new, all was terrifying. This was what it meant to be a slave. To be at the mercy of a man.
I went to her and took her by her dark locks, forcing back her head until her white throat strained and her breasts were crushed to my chest... feeling the hard core of me pressing into her belly. With my other hand I fondled her firm-rounded buttocks. Feeling the thin weals. Feeling her wince.
„Slave,“ I said softly, „do you want to feel my hand... to feel me or the rod?“
„No... no... n-not the rod,“ she gasped. Then, quickly, she added that essencial word. „N-No,... Master.“
„Then, slave,“ I said, „you will submit. Fully.“ Without effort I forced her slowly to the knees. My root was full and strong and hard.
„What are you, Mena?“ I asked. Still my voice was soft.
„A... a s-slave... master... your...slave.“ I heard her whisper.
„Yes,“ I said, feeling the fierceness of my heat mounting moment by moment. „And, my slave, befure such as you fully gives herself, there is a way of showing true respect for a master. This you will now do. You understand me?“
Though she made no answer, she understood me well enough. After but the briefest of hesitations, I felt the warm-wet softness of a mouth enclose me. It was an exquisite moment. An exquisite sensation. True submission for her, true pleasure for me. My hands remained gently entwining those dark locks as her head moved back and forth.
Within a few moments it was evident that Mena was no tyro in the arts of sex. That was good. I was in no mood for a girl who had to be taken by brute force and simply used. I wanted a woman who, however unwilling, knew what was wanted of her. Thus was young Mena. Yes... ah yes... I had chosen well.
Soon... all to soon... I was shuddering with an almost uncontrollable lust. It was necessary because there was more that I wanted. The very heart of her ripe young sexuality. This I would have!
I ordered her ahead of me to the broad couch, watching the thin weals which Bela had raised snaking cross her nates as her hindquarters moved with a natural seductive sway. Naked, we spread and lay upon the couch. There was now another look apart from shock and dread in those sloe-like eyes of hers. One slim white hand grasped me firmly but gently; those firm breasts pressed to me.
„What are you?“ I asked again softly.
„Your slave, Master,“ she said with equal softness.
The melting quality of her voice was matched by the melting warm softness of her as I took her with a single, slow but powerful thrust. Mena moaned... and her haunches squirmed.
But the moan was different to those which I head heard earlier.
Equally, the squirming motion was for different reasons to those when, not so long before, Bela had applied the rod to her buttocks!