Review This Story free porn video

Review this Story

Thisstory has been edited by Chksng19. Any errors in grammar, punctuation orspelling are either an intentional part of the story or the result of MadLews mucking about with the text after it was properly edited

Authors Notes:

This is a work of fiction and all characters are entirely fictional.If you see yourself in this story you are sitting entirely too close tothe monitor.

The fictional characters in this story are all at least 18 years old,even Larry.

Some may feel the title is a desperate plea for attention

OK you caught me; Bruno's only 6 but that's 42 in dog years.

A desperate plea for attention is not the same as whining, Alex

This is an adult story written, by an alleged adult, For adults.

A sense of humor might be useful while reading this story

Copyright 2005 all rights in reservation etc. etc.

Hope sat erect on the hard wood stool. She was naked of courseexcept for her red leather collar. Her Master paced behind her, six pacesleft, then he turns about with a click of the heels, six paces right, turnand click, it was his best imitation of a British military officer withthe riding crop tucked under his arm. It was enough to distract any slavefrom her appointed task.

"Tick tock pet, Tick tock." He said in a low gravelyvoice. She did not turn of course but she was sure he was checking hiswatch. Hope continued to stare at the monitor screen as her fingers racedover the keyboard. She had no real training in typing but she could do45 words a minute if she stayed in her zone.

Snap! The Master's new leather riding crop slapped against herbottom, not very hard but the flap at its tip made a sharp noise. It washis way of reminding her to sit up straight, shoulders back, and ankleshooked around the back legs of the stool, leaving her thighs widely parted.

"Three minutes left luv. You're nearly done, Right!" Itwasn't a question; it was a statement. Hope silently screamed as her fingersflew and he resumed his pacing. He did it to distract her and it workedsplendidly. A fraction of a second before she finished the last word hecheerfully announced, "Times up!"

She braced herself for the lash of the crop she had earned fortyping over her time limit. It did not come. She sensed him leaning overher left shoulder reading the last page. The hand holding the riding croprested on her right shoulder. He casually (but oh so deliberately) allowedthe handle of the crop to slip down to the stool coming to rest betweenher parted thighs. She shuddered and wiggled forward to brush against thewarm leather handle that had so recently been clasped in his hand.

"Tich, tich" Master said not referring to her squirming hipsbut rather to the words on the screen. Hope glanced up at the last page.He had run the spell check and on that page alone 12 words were underlinedin red. She could clean that up in just a few more minutes and then ifhe let her read through it once and do a quick edit it would be ready to….

He had logged onto the BDSM Library site. " Please! No!" shecalled out silently to herself. He uploaded the story just as it was. Washe deliberately trying to humiliate her? Hope wanted to cry but she knewbetter.

Time well spent... Author: Hope

Story Codes: M/f M+/f bestiality size D/s slavery bondage historical humiliationtorture Heavy

Size: 15 kb

Added on: March 22, 2005

Total 3487 readers

This month 3487 readers

Synopsis: "Since you can't keep a sivel tongueI am going to leafe you out here hanging by your wrists from the gibblet. Nexttime you'll hang from that preaty little neck." Bound naked in the centerof a medieval city left to be used and abused by the townsfolk for your disrecpestof your Master. You'll be treat like an unruly breast finaly licked by thedogs who are eager to have you.

(If you read this story, and especially if you enjoyed it too, please reviewit or send an email to author. Authors deserve that. And your comments willencourage them to write more)

Reviewer: SlaveSally (Edit) Rating 2 March 24,2005

I laughed, I cried, I got confused, send me your snail mail address and I'llsend you Webster's own dictionary (2/10)

Reviewer: Dapper Dan (Edit) Rating 5 March 23 2005

I imagine that this story might have been readable, eventually. However,the overwhelming number of mistakes made it hard follow the story. Looks likesomeone sent in a rough draft and left the real story at home. I found portionstotally confusing. Perhaps because sentences and words were missing might bea good story - after a proper edit. (5/10)

Reviewer: Laughing Larry (Edit) Rating: 7 March 22,2005

An interesting story worth reading though that is made a bit difficult bysome spelling and grammar errors. The author has a great imagination. Keepwriting. It almost seems she gets carried along by her story and rushes throughsome basic editing mistakes. Rereading it a few days later or finding a proofreaderwould make it easier to understand and definitely improve the readers enjoyment.(7/10)

Replied by: Hope (Edit) (March 22, 2005)

*Grin* Master won't give me time to proof read or edit, one of my problemswith writing is that I get so caught up in details that stories get boggeddown and I never end them. My Master gave me very strict timetable now andI could barely follow it. I had to write this one and submitted in the sameday .The time frame allowed for nothing else. To date He refuses to proof reador edit my work. Perhaps he hopes to humiliate me. He is always right aboutthese things. I think from your review though I'm now able to reach into myimagination and pull out the stories inside there

I would like to thank you for your encouraging words!

Hope:

Subject: Time Well Spent

To: Hope > [email protected]

From: Laughing Larry> [email protected]

Date 8:45am March 25 2005

Dear Hope,

Glad you liked the review. You're right about reaching into your imaginationbut writing is about discipline too. Getting your writing assignment done ontime. Winnowing away the minutia, spell checking, and proper grammar all requirediscipline. That is what a Master is good at. If you ask him politely I'm sureyour Master would be willing to take some corrective measures with your writing.I would recommend the following.

Since every word processor in existence has a spellchecker misspelled wordswould earn you 5 lashes. Sentence fragments, punctuation errors, misused wordsetc one lash each.

By my calculations your present tale would require 177 lashes with a warmwet tongue. But then I'm just a softy maybe your Master would have other ideas.

Good luck

Laughing Larry

Hope lay face down on the bed. Her belly clenched in fearful anticipation.She tried to squirm but her arms and legs were pulled taut and tied tothe bedposts. The ball gag silenced her and made her jaws ache. How couldthis be happening. She'd deleted that stupid e-mail, and yet Master hadfound it. He was amused by the idea but angered that she would try to hideit from him.

She hears the click of his boot heels on the hardwood floor. Heis standing over her. She mews into the gag begging for forgiveness. Aleather clad finger runs across her trembling bottom.

She can do nothing but squirm; she cannot even raise her bottomoffering to surrender herself to his whip. She is already his, with nothingto offer except her acceptance. She can only wait. The finger nestles lowertracing the outline of her pouting lips. The hand moves away, she shuddersand he begins.

Subject: You Asswhole!

To: Laughing Larry> [email protected]

From: Hope > [email protected]

Date: 11:12 March 26, 2005

You Fukin Asswhole,

What gives you the right to brustt into my fuckin life and fuck it up! YaSay a feww nice things on thestupid web page and you men thing you own me.Well I already have a Master and he dosen't need any stupid Ideas from youasswhole. I mean I'm knelling infront of the keyboard, I won't be able to sitthis week and I'll be sleeping on my belly for a week two. Do you have anyidea what 200 lashes from a flogger does to a girls tush! I hope your happyasswhole

Drop Dead

Hope

S he kneels with her back is pressed up against the iron column.Her ankles are crossed and bound behind it. Her arms are behindit as well, bound handto elbow with a solid coil ofrope wrapped tightly around her forearms. She is pulled snuggly againstthe cold metal pole. A thick butt plug is firmly lodged inside her, themaster patiently explaining to her that there is no W in asshole. She feelsthe tip of the new crop against her lower lips and curses herself for beingso damn wet.

"Thirty nine for the appalling spelling and grammar and thenyou can write a proper apology." The crop snaps and she yelps as thewelt forms across the tops of her breasts.

Subject: Please Forgive me

To: Laughing Larry> [email protected]

From: Hope > [email protected]

Date: 16:31 March 26, 2005

Master Larry,

Please forgive this impertinent slut. I am so sorry. Master read my laste-mail to you and is furious with me. He tells me there is no w in asshole.My own is now quite thoroughly stretched so I will remember this. I misspelledseven words and made four additional errors. My breasts and belly received39 blows with his new riding crop. It has a fiberglass rod encased in handsewn brown leather. The stitching on the seam leaves an interesting crosshatchdesign in the middle of my purple welts. I will not be sleeping on my bellyeither. Please forgive me Sir. Master would be pleased if you would reviewmy next story.

The miserable slut

hope

Larry hopped up from the computer and locked his bedroom door.He'd had classes from 10 till 4 and stopped at the library before headinghome. He read the two e-mails again.

Hot dam that freshmen English Comp course at the community collegewas already paying off. God, it was so cute the way she couldn't writeor spell worth shit when she was pissed.

He slid off his pants and absently fondled his growing member.He read the second e-mail again. Master Larry sounded oh so right. Hisfingers wrap around his throbbing and nearly average 5.87-inch cock.

She is blonde in his mind's eye with gigantic firm breasts thatbounce and wobble as the riding crop strikes again and again. Her pitifulyelps urge him on and he strokes faster. Serendipity leads him to explodeexactly on the thirty-ninth stroke. He comes in great spurts splashingboth his screen and keyboard.
"What are you doing in there!" His mom yells, rattling the locked door. Larry leaps up from the chair knocking it over backwards. He tries to pull up his pants without falling over as he breathlessly shouts. " Just doing some homework Mom. Can I have a little peace for Christ sake!" He finds some tissues and begins smearing away the glob on his computer screen while he cursed silently under his breath.

" Don't you swear at me young man." His mom yells back. "Justcause you pay some rent and go to college doesn't mean you can sass yourMom. Dinner will be ready in a half hour."

The Pirates of Baskerville Author: Hope

Story Codes: M/f M+/f Bestiality/f D/s slavery bondage historical humiliationtorture Extreme violence

Size: 25 kb

Added on: April 19, 2005

Total 6483 readers

This month 6483 readers

Synopsis: Samantha, a professional dog sitter takesher hounds out for an evening stroll on the Scottish moors where they are surprisedby a randy band of landlocked pirates.

(If you read this story, and especially if you enjoyed it too, please reviewit or send an email to author. Authors deserve that. And your comments willencourage them to write more)

Reviewer: SlaveSally (Edit) Rating 7 April 24,2005

I laughed, I cried, I peed my pants. This is a hilarious spoof for the funat heart. If you're down in the dumps it's a must read.(7/10)

Reviewer: Dapper Dan(Edit) Rating 8 April 22,2005

What an incredible improvement over your last offering. I could read thisone all the way through. Quite an imaginative story line. While I'm not reallywell versed in animal play I don't think you can do that with a parrot, stillall in all a fun read. (8/10)

It was a lie of course. Not that Dan knew much about what couldand couldn't be done with parrots, but rather how well versed he was inanimal play.

Dan owned the largest sheep ranch in Dry Spring Station, New SouthWales. Dry Spring Station had a population of 84 souls but only three ofthem were women (assuming you didn't count the two inflatable ones). Inpoint of fact Maggie the 43-year-old bar maid, postmistress, and generalshopkeeper was the only single woman within a hundred miles. When she sprucedherself up and used the depilatory on her upper lip and chin she couldmake a man forget all about the cute young ewes, but that only happenedaround the holidays.

Dan really did prefer women and had even purchased a mail orderbride from Thailand, he spent over 7,000 dollars (Australian) plus shippingand handling but she had run off with the immigration inspector from Sydneybefore she ever made it out to the ranch.

Reviewer: Mixmess(Edit) Rating 8 April 20,2005

More funny than really erotic but an enjoyable read none the less. (8/10)

Reviewer: Amber(Edit) Rating 2 April 20,2005

Yuck! I mean I'm pretty open-minded I can understand the dogs and if theydon't mind why should I. But what kind of sick degenerate would do that toan innocent parrot. You disgust me (2/10)

Replied by : Hope(Edit)(April20,2005)

Amber, let me assure you the story was fictional and no actual parrots wereinjured in the writing of this story. *Grin*

Subject: Parrot Abuse

To: Hope > [email protected]

From: Amber> mailto:[email protected]

Date 18:45am April 20, 2005

Dear Hope

You might think animal abuse is a laughing mater but I don't. Even if youpersonably haven't abused birds your story will doubtlessly lead to hundredsof parakeets, pigeons, and parrots being injured, psychologically traumatized,and painfully humiliated by teenage boys and other sick perverts! You shouldthink before writing stuff like that. There are dedicated people out here whocare about what happens to the earth and our animal friends. Watch yourselfbecause we are watching you.

Amber

This seemed a bit threatening to both Hope and her Master. Masterdecided to personally answer Amber and assure her that Hope would be properlychastised for her thoughtless outburst on parrot usage and no future descriptionsof avian abuse would occur.

Subject: Re: Parrot Abuse

To: Amber> [email protected]

From: MasterA > [email protected]

Date 8:23am April 21, 2005

Amber

Please rest assured that Hope will be properly disciplined for her outrageoussuggestions on the use and abuse of a parrot. Speaking for myself as her ownerand teacher I can assure you that she wasn't considering all of the consequencesof her actions when she wrote those words and I will see that she suffers thoseconsequences now. Rest assured this type of incident will not be repeated.

Master A

Master decided a lesson in breath control would be appropriate.Hope was very good at this and she found it mildly euphoric. Master heldher roughly by the sides of her head and plunged into her mouth. He thrustinto her deeply, blocking her throat. Hope could easily swallow him especiallyafter he had given her a few glasses of wine, which helped her with thegag reflex.

What Hope enjoyed most about this type of play was that it gaveher so much control. You might wonder about what kind of control a kneelingslave girl might have when her Master is holding her head in place andforcing himself deep into her throat until he decides to let her breath.

Well actually by continuously swallowing she was able to constantlystimulate his cock and when she used her tongue on the juncture betweenthe base of his cock and his sac she could make him come in less than thirtyseconds. This was something Hope was very proud of though she was alwayspunished for it immediately afterwards.

Such is the life of a sub, punished for your own lack of control,punished when your Master loses control. Nobody saida sex slave's life was going to be easy. Both Hope and her Master thoroughlyenjoyed their little game but only because they failed to take Amber veryseriously.

Reviewer: Laughing Larry(Edit) Rating 8 April 19,2005

Now that's funny. You definitely have no problem with your imagination. Thestory is fairly well plotted, if not totally believable. The editing problemsthat plagued your earlier works are nearly non existent. I count nine misspellingsand five grammatical errors. Watch those split infinitives. Hey comes out toan even 50 (8/10)

Master broke into an evil grin as he read the words "splitinfinitive". She could hardly imagine his plans as she lay on herback, her arms already spread and bound to the headboard. He had her raiseher legs pressing her knees toward her chest while he tucked a pillow againstthe curve of her ass. Then he pulled her ankles up to the headboard bindingthem to her already outstretched wrists. Her sex was spread, pulled wideopen, and pointing straight up toward the ceiling. She watched wide-eyedas he pulled on his leather gloves. She shuddered as his leather-clad fingersdelicately teased her gaping lipsforcing the moisture to bubble up as she began to pant. She tried to listenas he patiently explained the problem with split infinitives. How her leftand right legs were like two parts of a verb phrase, broken apart and separatedby her pulsing little clit, making her whole sentence structure awkwardand hard to follow.

Hope shrieked, his tapping finger punctuated his point and madeher come without his permission. He picked up his crop and began.

He alternated between her left and right thigh. Working his waydown toward the pulsing center of her being. The blows were not excessivelysevere; her Master wasn't cruel.

What was she thinking, here she was bound in a completely vulnerableposition, her most intimate flesh being whipped, of course he was cruel.It was just that he was only as cruel as he needed to be. That was whyshe loved the man so.

After delivering twenty swats to each stretched thigh he deliveredten more to her aching clit. They were really more taps than swats, theleather flap at the tip of the crop snapping against her throbbing fleshforced her to come again and yet again.

Maids Night Out. Author: Hope

Story codes M/f M+F+/f f bestiality D/s slavery bondage historical humiliationtorture serious nc heavy

Size 36kb

Added on: May 12,2005

Total: 8756 readers

This Month 8756 readers

Synopsis: A serving maid is caught tasting the pate.She is placed in the stocks on the village green and stripped from the waistdown. The village men have their way with her before she receives her caning.Before nightfall the master has his valet pack "Pate' de foie gras" intoher most intimate openings. Then they release the hounds for the evening.

(If you read this story, and especially if youenjoyed it too, please review it or send an email to author. Authors deservethat. And your comments will encourage them to write more)

Reviewer: SlaveSally (Edit) Rating 9 May 16 2005

Bow-Wow oh wow! That was hot honey. I cried, I cringed, I creamed my jeans.

Keep em cummin' Hope(9/10)

Replied by: Hope (Edit) (May 16,2005)

I'm always pleased to know my stories are enjoyed Slave Sally. Please justdon't send me the laundry bill * Wink*

Subject: Maids Night Out

To: Hope > [email protected]

From: SlaveSally> [email protected]

Date 21:31pm May 16, 2005

Dear Hope,

You can lick my panties anytime girl. You are soooo hot. Your mind is sofull of deliciously nasty stuff I could just eat you up. No, I'm serious, canwe get together? Do you live on the West Coast? I'd do anything to spend alittle time with that perky quirky imagination of yours. Hell tell your MasterI'll give him a long slow blowjob and then he can watch us play. Interested?E-mail me Please Hope!

Hope's Master read it and chuckled. Hope found the e-mail vaguelyintimidating but of course she would do what her Master wanted. " Shesounds desperate." He said, " I don't think she has much of amaster."

"What do you want me to do?" Hope asked. "Ignoreher." He ordered, and Hope was grateful for the command.

In fact Hope's Master was correct. Sally didn't have much of aMaster. She hadn't had any master at all for over a year now. Mark, theman that had claimed her, had found her too demanding for a sub. Whetherit was her constant need for assurance, punishment, encouragement, or attentionfrom others, she always craved more.

"Your just too damn high maintenance for a slave. If I wantedto put this much effort into it I'd get a girl friend." He had toldher as they broke up.

They did part on the best of terms though. He threw a party forher inviting ten of his best friends. She found it amazing that their partingwas really the best part of their four-year relationship. It had been theday of the NCAA Championship game. She had greeted each of them at thedoor on her hands and knees. She wore a black leather collar with a shortleash attached. Other than that she was naked, even her mound had beenshaved for the party. She served them beer and snacks shuffling betweenthe kitchen and the living room on her knees. Afterwards she served themall on her hands and knees, most of them several times.

When the game was over and all the wagers settled Mark had auctionedher off to the highestbidder. She fetched the ignoble price of $138.00. Any self-respecting womanwould have been insulted and even Sally was a little miffed.

If we wanted to be fair to Mark's friends we would note that thosewho weren't college students were recent graduates with student loans andmoney was a bit tight for all of them. The other factor for the low pricemight have been that they weren't exactly sure of what they were biddingfor. In fact Dave, the high bidder thought he had won a long weekend withMark's girl, maybe a week at most. He tried to return her the followingSaturday but Mark told him there were no refunds she was his problem now.Being a fair-minded chap Dave gave her $50.00 and told her to get lost.

Sally wasn't even technically a slave now. At least not accordingto nineteenth century common law, which was probably about all that wouldapply to this situation.

It was not the kind of thing she was willing to broadcast on theweb, it was a bit embarrassing if your screen name was SlaveSally. In anyevent she was pretty sure she was going to swear off men for a while.

It was a shame Dapper Dan didn't know of her predicament he wouldhave gladly flown half way around the world to persuade her that not allmen were hopeless and Sally had always wanted to see Australia. It mighthave been blissful being a lone female slave on a ranch with 14 brawnywell tanned ranch hands who could all say" G'day Mate" with astraight face and not sound the least bit phony. Then again Sally's latentwool allergy would probably have ruined everything.

Reviewer: Dapper Dan (Edit) Rating 8 May16 2005

Hot Damn that's a wild one. The Author's uncanny grasp of details especiallyas they pertain to canine anatomy leads to a few legitimate questions abouther personal relationship with her owns domestic pets. Not that there's anythingwrong with that.

Great story one of your best (8/10)

Reviewer: Messymix (Edit) Rating 10 May 15 2005

Definitely the hottest story I've read in months. You have an absolutelymarvelous imagination. You need to write a sequel. Please! (10/10)

Reviewer: Lord Molestest (Edit) Rating 7 May 14 2005

More or less your typical humiliation, abuse, gang rape, whipping, and bestialrape story. A little more graphic than some, but can you really call it non-consensual?I'm sure the bitch was definitely asking for it. (7/10)

Reviewer: Amber (Edit) Rating 6 May 13 2005

They really do that to geese? Do the livers explode? No wonder the Frenchare so fucked up. Well at least the puppy's had agood time. (6/10)

Amber was deeply disturbed though she tried not to show it. Thecontinuing theme of avian abuse was unmistakable. Amber loved all the earthgoddesses' creatures but she always felt especially protective of birds.

When she had been a senior in high school she was the acting secretaryfor a junior cell of the Animal Resistance Front. ARF was a radical splintergroup of the more mainstream ALF. In a yearly right of passage she anda dozen other teenagers had piled into a yellow VW van, gotten very stoned,and driven to the Vermont Raptor Center. On that dark moonless night theycrept into the center and used bolt cutters to open each of the bird'scages. Then they had all hooted and hollered and made enough noise to drivethe startled birds off into the woods.

The birds were very upset by this disturbance but most of themwaited for the teens to leave and then returned to their cages to waitfor breakfast. UncUnc, the centers lone specimen of a Golden Eagle wassuffering from a flu like sickness that left him a bit disoriented. Unlikethe other birds he took off and just kept going. This was good and it wasbad.

It was good in that the goal of the ARF junior cell was to liberatethese majestic birds of prey from the human bondage they had been forcedto endure. It was bad because UncUnc was more a carrion feeder than a hunterby nature and years in captivity had only increased that trait. I-91 passedwithin twelve miles of the Raptor Center and was an excellent source ofanimal carcasses. UncUnc was plucking away at the flattened remains ofa skunk at seven thirty the next morning. He had never really consideredwhy the highway yielded such a variety of decaying bodies until the tractortrailer truck doing seventy-five miles an hour was about ten yards awayfrom him.

If UncUnc had been a wee bit slower he would have been flattenedunder the grill and entered the food chain as a tasty crow snack. The world,and Amber, would have been non-the-wiser, and Hope's life would have turnedout so much simpler.

The Golden Eagle managed three powerful stokes with his wings risingnearly ten feet before he smashed through the windshield of the truck.The driver lost his right eye, and control of the truck. The truck slidacross three lanes of oncoming traffic and crashed through the guardrailbefore coming to rest on a boulder overlooking a very scenic gorge.

Traffic was tied up for most of the morning. The Vermont StatePolice found the body of UncUnc, which was easy to identify as he was stillwearing a Raptor Center tag on his right claw.

A traffic jam in Vermont is always news and the dramatic pictureof a tractor-trailer teetering on a precipice assured a page one story.This was how Amber came to read of the fate of UncUnc in the BurlingtonBanner. She felt a bit guilty but Brad the cell chairperson told her sheneeded to balance the noble intentions of their actions against the somewhatmessy results.

Brad was a sensitive lad who joined ARF for a number of complexand nuanced reasons. First because, as every high school boy knows, chicksdig environmentalists. This was a point Amber had demonstrated on a numberof occasions and sometimes twice in a single night. The second reason wasthat a career as an ARF activist would allow him to blow up power lines,burn down condos and logging camps, and destroy expensive equipment allfor a very righteous cause. There was even a rumor about an ARF hit squadfor really obnoxious animal abusers. It was a win/ win situation and ifAmber was posing some tough questions there were plenty of other chicksthat were into brave young eco-warriors. Amber weighed the noble intentionsand the messy results and concluded they had all done UncUnc a grave disservice.

Over the next six years Amber learned a number of important lifelessons. She learned that men became possessive creeps if you let themstick their cock in you. She studied the matter thoroughly using fourteendifferent subjects but the results were always the same. It didn't seemto matter where they stuck their cocks, if they came inside you they treatedyou like their personal property until they tired of you.

Naturally she moved on to women. She was becoming a quick learner.It only took four women, Janice, Aunt Sara, Anne, and June, for her tolearn the lesson this time. She was quite convinced that while women wererarely as crude or boorish as men they were in the end equally demanding.They needed much more support, reassurance, and general attention thanthe average male.

When her Aunt Sara passed away leaving Amber a 58-acre farm Sheused the opportunity to move in with her true friends. Three Lamas, twogoats, a dozen cats, four dogs, a gerbil and a mare now cohabit with herin a wonderful, protected, 58-acre ecosystem.

Because of a severe backlash from the religious right Vermont'scivil union laws had never expanded to include platonic intra-species relationships.Technically she was the owner of their home and her animal companions werelegally her possessions. Despite the nasty rumors in town all of her relationshipswith her companions remained strictly platonic. It wasn't because Amberhad any moral reservations about inter species sex. It was just that shehad never had a successful long-term sexual relationship and she didn'twant to screw things up in her shared habitat.

It wasn't as though like she never thoughtabout it. Bruno the Harlequin Great Dane was a handsome brute and she hadseen him eyeing her tush on more that one occasion.

Presently her home served as a safe house for ARF and ALF operativeswhen needed. She was also assigned to monitor a number of web sites fortell tale signs of animal abuse. This included the BDSM Library, whichhad come under scrutiny on a number of occasions.

Reviewer: Laughing Larry (Edit) Rating 9 May 12 2005

Wow that was a great read. You're really hitting your stride. I think youcould have cut back a bit on the whipping scene. You're not competing withMel Gibson you know. All in all this is your best story to date. Oh yeah 7misspellings,7 grammar errors not including the three dangling modifiers, andyou used the word though for thought 5 times ( that's the trouble with a spellchecker)that comes out to uh 50. You're messing with me right, or has he turned youinto a little pain slut? (9/10)

Hope sat in the straight back chair, naked of course, her armsbound to the arms of the chair. Three pillows were stuffed between herbuttocks and the chair's back forcing her hips to rest uncomfortably onthe very edge of the seat. Once again her mouth was stuffed with a ballgag so she couldn't interrupt the lesson on " Dangling Modifiers" Shewas tense, she knew this was bound to be a painful lesson but she stillhad no idea what Master was up to.

The doorbell rang and Master gave her an affectionate kiss onthe cheek before he hopped up to get it. He returned with a longhairedbearded man with tattoos over every inch of visible skin.

Hope was not particularly upset about being displayed naked beforea complete stranger. Master had cured her of that long ago. This fellowlooked like he belonged in a motor cycle gang but he smelled ok. He wascarrying a thick briefcase. He sat on the stool in front of Hope his handsgrasping her nipples without a word of introduction. He pinched and rolledher sensitive nubs while she squirmed in discomfort.

"Master Phillip is an expert at piercing, Hope and I feltyou deserved the best."

Hope could only express her dismay by shaking her head and mewingloudly behind the ball gag. " Yes I know it will hurt a bit but itwill remind you to keep those pronouns in their place. In a few monthsyou'll hardly notice the ones through your nipples. The other one willalways be a bit more intrusive."

Master Phillip was teasing her frightened little nub of nervesfrom it's fleshy hood and her eyes widened in horror as she realized wherethe third "Dangling modifier" would hang. Master had broughta tray table over and the two men were arranging the needed tools on thetray. A bowl of ice, alcohol, metal rings and a hollow needle that lookedto Hope about as wide as a ten penny nail. Her eyes widened as her Mastersteadied her shoulders and Master Philip cleansed her brutally stretchednipple with alcohol. He picked up the needle and pressed it to her sensitiveflesh. She screamed into the gag feet beating helplessly against the flooras the needle pushed through her right nipple and blood trickled from thewound.

She was fortunate in that she fainted away during the next piercingand wasn't conscious when they pierced her clit's hood. They placed thingolden rings into the three piercing and then they rudely woke her withsmelling salts. Master Phillip gave her strict instructions on how to carefor the wounds. Surprisingly the hole near her clit healed quite quicklywhile the nipples were sore for months.

Three Rings for the Master. Author: Hope

Story codes: M/f D/s slavery bondage modification torture consensual romanticScfi heavy

Size: 112kb

Added July 2,2005

Total Readers 12596

This month 12596 readers

Synopsis:

Two rings pierce my snow-white breasts,

with iron links that chain me.

from hooded flesh the silver ring hangs

with which the master claims me.

With trembling lips I kiss his whip

which in the darkness tames me.

(If you read this story, and especially you enjoyed it too, please reviewit or send an email to author. Authors deserve that. And your comments willencourage them to write more)

Reviewer: SlaveSally (Edit) Rating 10 July 10 2005

Jeez.. the hits just keep on cumming. I've learned to strip down before readingany of your stories but come on. I came three times before I finished the firstchapter. Looks like I'll need to bring a towel from now on. * Blushes as shemops the puddle from the chair*(10/10)

Reviewer: Dapper Dan (Edit) Rating 10 July 8 2005

Eat your heart out J.R.R. Tolkien, This is the story he could have writtenif he had more guts and a better imagination. Have a hard time getting aroundthe consensual bit but perhaps it will become clearer in later chapters. Youhave some interesting Ideas about female elfin anatomy, and your Orcs are,well, just awesome. We anxiously await your next installment.(10/10)

Reviewer: Kilgore Pike (Edit) Rating 5 July 4, 2005

Science fiction? You call that Science Fiction? SCIENCE FICTION IS ABOUTROBOTS AND RAYGUNS AND ROCKETS, NOT ELVES AND ORCS AND WIZARDS. Story wasn'tthat bad, BUT STOP LYING ABOUT SCIENCE FICTION! ok(5/10)

Replied by Hope (Edit) (July 5, 2005)

Sorry Kilgore, the story is really fantasy not Scfi but that's not an optionin the story codes so Scfi was as close as it got. * Grin*

Subject: Three Rings

To: Hope > [email protected]

From: KilgorePike > [email protected]

Date 21:31pm May 16, 2005

AS CLOSE AS IT GOT?

YOU STUPID COW!

SCIENCE FICTION IS ABOUT NOBILITY AND PURITY AND GOODNESS, ALL THOSE THINGSTHAT ARE EVER TRUELY WORTH WRITING ABOUT. IT WARNS MANKIND OF THE DANGERS THEYFACE!! IT PREPARES US FOR THE DANGEROUS FUTURE WE ARE ALL FACING NOW!! I KNOWWHAT SCIENCE FICTION IS!!! I WRITE SCIENCE FICTION…The tripe you writeis just a slimy excuse to take pale virginal elfin maidens, strip them naked,chain them in dank dark dungeons and allow huge sweaty green skinned monstersto abuse them in every imaginable hole while slavering packs of wolves pacein the background impatiently waiting for their turn to OH! OH GOD! SHIT!!!NO!!

Kilgore leapt from the chair tearing off his gray stained bathrobeas if it were on fire. He tossed it to the ground. As his arms flailedhe accidentally double clicked on the send icon and his incomplete messagegalloped off into the ether. Kilgore had more immediate problems to dealwith. He scuttled off toward the bathroom peeling off the soggy boxer shortsas he went. He carefully hung them, sticky side out, on the towel rackand selected a freshly dried crusty pair to replace them.

Quite suddenly a movement in the bathtub drain seized his attention.He watched fascinated as a midsize cockroach emerged from the drain andbegan to climb the soap scum and lime scale caked shower wall. StunnedKilgore knelt down and began to pray for the little fellow's success. Anhour and fifteen minutes later Kilgore began to tremble as the roach fearlesslyclimbed out onto the slimy shower spout. As the bug teetered on the edgeKilgore pleaded with it, to think of it's wife and kids, to believe andhope for a better future. It was all to no avail as the bug slipped andplunged antenna first the full six feet two inches onto the cold enamelsurface far below.

Through tear filled eyes Kilgore watched in amazement as the bugrolled over and scurried back down the drain. Surely there was a lessonfor mankind in this but Kilgore couldn't quite grasp it yet. Shrugginghe wandered back toward the computer.

Kilgore had always had time management issues. It was one of thereasons for his spotty employment record. To his thought process a fewseconds had elapsed since he started the e-mail to Hope and he picked upalmost exactly where he left off.

And another thing. Who told you elves have a second clitoris between theirvagina and anus?

He then proceeded to compose a six thousand word dissertation onjust how unlikely it would be for the necessary vascular and neurologicaltissues to develop embryologicaly in that particular location as well asthe inability of the available tissue to provide the structural supportfor a second clitoral process. It was a brilliant piece of deductive reasoningand he ended his missive with this perfectly rational thought

I think you made the whole thing up, bitch. If you can't come up with somesupporting documentation I think you owe the whole damn world an apology.

Yours

Kilgore Pike

P.s. actually historic may have been a more accurate code than scfi

Kilgore sent the message only to have the screen blink impatientlyfor two minutes and then inform him it was unable to connect with his ISP.Unknown to Kilgore when he sent the first portion of his message Hope withthe consent of her Master contacted yahgogle.com and asked that all futuremessages from his account be blocked.

Yahgogle.com had accumulated a number of such requests in thetwo years Kilgore had employed them as his ISP in fact of the 527 emailsKilgore had sent 499 had resulted in request that further communicationbe blocked. He was not a prolific user of email, which he quaintly calledether mail, but those he did send tended to be umm passionate. Hope's wasthe 500 th suchrequest and that was a magical number to the machines at Yahgogle. Hisaccount was suspended.

In a pique of rage Kilgore tossed the 60 megahertz Pentium 2 outthe second story window where it joined an accumulating pile. Unfortunatelythe twin 20 megabyte hard drives shattered and erased the last evidenceof Kilgore's tenuous grasp on what we all like to think of as reality.Kilgore sat down in front of his 1978 vintage IBM Selectric typewriterand banged out an angry letter to the editor about the dangers that monopolisticcommunications companies pose to free expression.

He used both index fingers for increased speed and emphasis. Theletter was posted that very day.

Ordinarily when the New York Time receives a letter containingthat many expletives, invectives and oblique references to elfin anatomyit ends up in the shredder. However an alert editor noted that this particularletter also contained a number of threats to the health and well beingof the Govoner and a very specific threat to the Mayors thirteen-year-olddaughter. Appropriate agencies were contacted and Kilgore was soon hostto a social worker, a court appointed psychiatrist, and three burly officerswho accompanied him to his new residence. He became a guest of the stateand teams of tireless psychiatrists startedworking to find a pharmaceutical solution that would return Kilgore tothe ranks of the gainfully employed.

Reviewer: Amber (edit) Rating 3 July 4,2005

First parrots, then geese, now crows and wolves. You've been warned you sickpervert.

BUT THEN YOU DON'T LISTEN! DO YOU?

By this point both Hope and her Master were becoming concerned.They had no way of knowing that the authorities would be taking care ofKilgore for the foreseeable future and to be quite frank Amber was beginningto sound like a nutcase.

Hope and her Master were not the only ones concerned about Amber.

Like most Great Danes, Bruno had learned to always follow his nosewhen it came to matters of the heart. It was obvious to him that Amberhad a crush on him. He was an adventurous soul and willing to push theenvelope. Truth be told, for a tailless, furless bitch, he felt Amber hada foxy little butt. He couldn't help but notice this because she was inthe habit of bending over in front of him and wagging it at his nose fouror five times a day. It wouldn't take a bloodhound to figure out she washot for him. Life should be so easy.

Usually (but not always) she kept a layer of cloth on her buttwhile she waved it in the air but any one could smell her desire. Stillevery time he went to mount her she would push him away and start intothe same old spiel about sex leading to messy emotional entanglements and "can'twe just be friends". He'd been around the barnyard long enough toknow when bull was being flung in his direction.

He was never one to make sweeping generalizations but it seemedto him that bipeds went out of their way to make life complicated. Shewanted him, he found the thought of his belly slapping against that smoothfurless rump, as he pumped into her tight wet slit, exciting in a kinkybut nice sort of way. He wasn't buying into this sex and emotional turmoilbullshit. He was a patient creature and when Amber figured out what shewanted he'd be there for her, in the mean time there were other bitchesin the barnyard. Life really was quite simple if you lived it well.

Reviewer: Laughing Larry (Edit) Rating 10 July 3,2005

Wow Hope, you've really come a long way. This is probably the best storyposted on this site for years. I don't see how you can make the next two segmentsas good as this one, but I wouldn't bet against you. If your Master ever tiresof you let me know cause I'm sure I'm in love. Oh and find your own damn mistakes,I'm too enthralled with the story to bother looking.

It was a nice sentiment but of course his Mom would never lethim keep a slave girl (or any other female) in his room. The cracking whips,rattling chains, and moaning would have ruined Mom's beauty rest and shetended to get cranky without eight solid hours of sleep. Little did Larryrealize how tenuous Hope and her Masters relation was about to become.If he had he might have moved out and gotten an apartment of his own.

Subject: Three Rings

To: Hope > [email protected]

From: A.M.Quim > [email protected]

Date 09:31am July 16, 2005

Dear Ms. Hotslut,

The offices of Jackman, Geurkoff, and Quim Purveyors of Fine Internet Eroticasince 1997 have taken note of your recent submissions to the BDSM Library.

Your latest contribution " Three Rings For the Master." Has considerablecommercial potential.

We would be interested in offering you a $3000.00 advance for a 75,000 word,three segment story, in addition you would receive 5% royalties on any salesin excess of your advance payment. We would require that you remove the presentstory from the public domain for editing and revision and refrain from postingadditional chapters.

We await your reply, Ms. Hotslut.

Sincerely

A.M.Quim

CEO

Jackman, Geurkoff, &Quim Inc.

They say that money is the root of all evil. That would make contractualagreements a wellspring of most iniquity. Hope read the letter and wasecstatic. Her Master felt more apt to perform due diligence.

I would never presume to understand the heart or mind of a woman.Still Hope's Master was completely blindsided by how events turned out.Why a woman who would allow herself to be whipped, chained, pierced, tattooed,shared, used and yes abused in every imaginable and a few unimaginableways would then draw the line at the control of her intellectual propertyis a bit puzzling.

Then again everyone has some line that can't be crossed.

Master A explained that the firm of JGQ was a bit of a fraud.Their recent public stock offering had netted less than $10,000 and thechairman Mr. Jackman had taken that and run off to a Caribbean Island Nationthat had no extradition treaty with the US. Hope didn't care, she wantedto be a real writer, and she wanted it now.

It would have been inappropriate and immature to say "I toldyou so." When the electronic funds transfer for the $3000.00 advancewas declined for insufficient funds. Men, Master A included, have alwaysbeen renowned for their inappropriate and juvenile remarks. Hope decidedthat she really couldn't stand Master A any more and she needed some space.

With fresh as well as fading whip marks she had no problem gainingadmittance to the local women's shelter. They urged her to prosecute thebastard but Hope assured them she had a much more devious plan. Five weekslater she sold the publication rights for her first novel to "Simianand Sholar" a renowned publishing firm.

" Three rings for the Master" was the heartrending autobiographicalaccount of a tormented and shattered young woman in love who had sufferedfor years at the hands of a cruel sadistic bastard before finding the courageto set herself free.

With a week on the morning talk show circuit and a tear filledhour on the "Opearha Whinefre show", her book easily climbedto the top of the New York Times best seller list.

Some of our concerned readers might be feeling a twinge of pityfor poor Master A who was so abruptly cast aside at the pinnacle of Hope'ssuccess. It might ease your agitation to know that he had been carryingon an online affair with SlaveSally ever since she first offered him heroral services. They will soon meet in real life and I'm sure the two ofthem will live happily ever after if he can keep her away from the keyboard.

Now that Hope was a renowned writer, her name and whereaboutsbecame a mater of public record. This facilitated Amber's plans and withina week of Hope's taking up residence in a penthouse apartment in midtownManhattan an ARF operative visited Amber's farm for his new assignment.Brad and Amber's reunion was briefly torrid before they got down to business.It took Brad only two days to remind Amber exactly why she so preferredthe company of beasts.

In the meantime the ACLU had taken an interest in Kilgore Pike'splight and arranged for a court hearing into his legal status. The courtsecurity officer watching over the patient assumed Kilgore must surelybe catatonic because he had sat on the courthouse bench staring out thewindow without even blinking for over four hours. He saw no problem inleaving Kilgore briefly during his lunch break and there probably wouldn'thave been a problem if the pigeon hadn't decided to fly away at just thatpoint. Kilgore rose up and followed.

From an Internet café in downtown Boston He contacted aservice tech at Yahgogle.com and explained to the sympathetic gentlemanfrom the subcontinent that he was recently released from a hospital andhad forgotten his home address. He gave his username as Hotslut and ofcourse easily guessed the password (wetslit) The service tech who understoodmost English words from a long colonial history was only too happy to provideKilgore with that accounts current Manhattan Address and phone number.If Kilgore needed any further assistance he need only call or log on. Kilgorestruck out traveling west by southwest while reviewing his recent lessonsin proper elfin anatomy.

Amber, Brad, and Bruno climbed into an aging bright yellow VWvan for the long trek to Manhattan. Amber was the getaway driver, Brunowas the muscle, and Brad carried an Egyptian Naja Haje cobra coiled ina leather satchel. Amber parked two blocks from the apartment and the malestook the service elevator to the penthouse.

Kilgore arrived in his rumpled hospital uniform unshaven and smellinga bit rank after three days on the road. In short he looked every bit thepart of a Hollywood movie producer. The doorman asked for his autographbefore sending him up to the penthouse in Hope's private elevator.

Thus it came to pass on a fateful September eve that Kilgore, Brad,and Bruno met quite suddenly in the foyer of Hope's apartment. Brad beingan impulsive lad flung his satchel's charge at the befuddled Kilgore. Kilgoreexpired clasping a coiled asp to his breast, as he had always known hewould. Brad panicked and turned to flee.

Bruno was a sensitive creature and he tore Brad's throat out fora number of subtly nuanced reasons. It had nothing to do with the factthat the slimy bastard had waltzed into Bruno's home banged his dream bitchfor two days and then left her in tears. Bruno felt that was between Amberand Brad and would never stick his nose into other peoples business. Itwas just that Bruno hated senseless death and destruction. The incompetentsleazeball, Brad, had killed an innocent luckless lunatic using a haplesssnake to do his dirty work and now the coward wasn't even going to stickaround and rescue the asp. Is it any wonder Bruno snapped?

With an authoritative growl Bruno sent the asp slithering towardthe heating duct. From there the snake easily fled the scene of the crimeand disappeared onto the streets of New York.

The doorman later told the police that a black and white spottedwerewolf had burst through the front lobby door, and fled north on FifthAvenue. The bodies of an escaped lunatic and a wanted ecoterrorist witha mutilated throat told the rest of the story. The Egyptian Asp was thesignature weapon of an ARF contract killing. The detectives soon determinedthat Kilgore was not the intended target and advised Hope to leave NewYork, change her name, run like hell, find a hole, and climb inside. TheARF was known to be a persistent group.

When Bruno arrived back at the van breathless and with blood onhis snout Amber knew there had been some complications. With a paw on thestick shift Bruno urged her to get the hell out of New York City. One lookinto his huge brown eyes told her that Brad wouldn't be joining them, ever.She followed Bruno's suggestion and headed north on the FDR. They drovein silence up the Taconic Parkway. Amber kept glancing over at Bruno. Sheknew he was a gentle creature but as he leaned out the open window hismuzzle pressed into the wind and ears flapping in the breeze He lookedso resolute and fiercely protective. Bruno knew how to play the strongsilent type and his nose told him the ploy was working. The scent of herdesire permeated the van. She squirmed fitfully on her seat, he was reallygetting her hot and bothered. He turned back to the window and took a deepbreath. This time he was sure that if he was patient he would have her.By the time they reached the Connecticut border she couldn't keep her pawsoff him any longer.

At the first rest area on I 84 eastbound she pulled over and thetwo of them tumbled into the back of the van. Bruno watched in awe as shepeeled off her jeans and dropped onto her hands and knees. He licked thatdivinely hairless rump for a few tantalizing moments before hopping ontop of her. She whimpered as he pushed into her tight wet opening. TheVW suspension bounced and creaked while passing truckers honked and hootedbut the two lovers were oblivious. Amber was everything Bruno had everimagined and so much more. They came together and then collapsed into apanting sweating tangle of limbs.

She rolled over underneath him and threw her arms around his muscularneck. He gently licked away the salty tears of joy that trickled down hercheeks. Ten minutes later the van was rocking and bouncing again. Theyboth were wearing huge grins when they pulled into the farmyard four hourslater. They disappeared into her bedroom and weren't seen till noon thenext day.

Hope completed a Lexus-Nexus search of the least likely hideoutsin the world. Of the top 146 places were someone was most unlikely to befound, there was only one where English was the common language. She slippedaway on a private jet that same night. When she arrived at the airstripin Dry Spring Station, New South Wales she was greeted by a very dapperand wealthy rancher named Dan. He owned the airstrip, a large sheep ranchand had 14 well-tanned and very randy ranch hands. They got on famouslyand in fact are considering nuptials in the coming fall.

Larry cuddled up to the sexy blonde with the humungus knockers.He casually draped an arm around her shoulders and reached down towardher right breast. Playfully he twisted her erect nipple. With a click "SassySally began to hum in anticipation. She was the deluxe model with "Vibro-Magic" internalmassage. Sure she had a few stains and a tiny patch on her left buttockbut to Larry she truly was nearly new. You could always get the best bargainson e-bay; He had only paid $75.00 Australian for her. That was less than$40.00 in real money. Even with postage she'd been a real steal.

Now he'd be able to just deflate her and roll her up in the morningand throw her in a pillowcase. Mom was none the wiser.

Dan used the $75.00 to have Hope's rings chromed and polished.He hoped she'd appreciate this thoughtful gesture. He wanted her to lookbright and sparkly when he and the boys proposed. Some of the ewes arestill a bit grumpy but you can't please everyone.

Hope now writes under an assumed name. (LH is the only clue I'llgive) her works are a series of very mundane and mostly vanilla mystery/horror/romancestories about a female detective and her werewolf lover or was it a Vampire.You know the genre, the type of paperbacks that get churned out 4 a yearand are scooped up by bored housewives. She and Dan seem happy and ARFis none the wiser so I guess we should leave well enough alone.

Author's postscript: Any story as convoluted andrambling as this one must contain a moral. I seem to have misplaced it. I'veread through it twice and I'm sure it has to be buried in there somewhere.If you should happen to stumble across it please contact me immediately asI'm really curious as to what it might be.

In remembrance of the late Kilgore Pike perhaps we might persuade Jinn toadd Fantasy to the theme codes for future stories. Imagine the number of senselesstragedies that might be avoided.