by Sean O'Kane
Asil didn’t seem in the mood for talking; she just gave Sophie a wink and clipped a leash to the rings that joined her wrists behind her back and then fed it forward between her legs. For once she didn’t even attempt to play with Sophie’s cunt as she did so, she just slipped the loop over her wrist, turned and led her out.
They went into the palace by the door that had previously led them into the cells. But this time Asil went to her left and led Sophie along some low ceilinged corridors of bare stone. The cold began to strike up through Sophie’s naked soles just as they came to a heavy oak door which Asil opened and led her through.
The room beyond was small and warm. It seemed to be some kind of cloakroom as there were rows of hooks on which hung items of female clothing. There were some skirts and tops and some of the gauzy items that Sophie had seen palace slaves wearing. At one end of the room was a row of wardrobe doors. Asil came behind Sophie and unclipped her leash and then her wrists, then began to undress herself.
“No clothes beyond this point. At least not day to day stuff. The Prince likes his playthings to be pretty, but he likes them to be available!” she said with a broad grin as she shrugged off her shirt. “You remember the plane?”
Sophie nodded.
“Then be an angel and go and get yourself a pair of stockings – black – and a pair of decent high heels. Oh, and fetch me a thong – that one, there!”
Sohie turned to see Asil now naked and pointing, she handed her the skimpy leather thong she had indicated. She gave a grimace as she took it.
“Guys, eh? Still it looks like we’re in for a good time. He’s got friends with him, and you’re in for a treat for winning that race for him,” she said as she stepped into the thong and pulled it up tight to her smoothly shaven cunt while Sophie smoothed and straightened her stockings, feeling their unaccustomed touch on her skin but enjoying the prospect of what they promised. She slipped her feet into the shoes and then Asil came forwards.
“Mmm. You are a gorgeous, great big helping of sex on legs,” she whispered. “I kept my hands off you earlier but now…” She reached up and pulled Sophie’s head down to kiss her deeply, her tongue plunging into Sophie’s mouth, her hands running down over Sophie’s back and gripping passionately in her buttocks. For her part, Sophie was delighted to feel Asil’s body against hers once more and stroked the girl’s back with one hand, while with the other she managed to squeeze the softness of one decorated breast, making Asil moan with desire before she broke away.
“Okay! No more or I’ll be in big trouble! Follow me.”
Sophie followed the bewitching, plump, swaying and rippling buttocks as Asil led her out through a door in the opposite wall to the one by which they had entered. What lay beyond took Sophie completely by surprise. They could have been in the undercroft of an English cathedral or castle. Massive round pillars supported a low, fan-vaulted ceiling. Asil glanced round and smiled at Sophie’s look of amazement.
“He went to school in your country, and one of his friend’s parents had a castle with dungeons like this one so he copied it,” she explained in a whisper.
Red light spilled from torches made to look like rush lights thrust into sconces. And what the light illuminated was entirely in keeping with the most lurid of tales about what had gone on in some castle dungeons. Most of the pillars were decorated with naked girls chained to them and moving amongst them were the Prince’s guests. They were nearly all men and their chests were bare, while below the waist they wore only black tights. But with a lurch of hot excitement in her belly, Sophie realised that they were cut away at the groin to leave the cocks naked. Most of them were erect and most of their owners carried whips coiled at their belts. It was clearly an international gathering and men and girls were in all colours, shapes and sizes. There were even a few dominatrices, Sophie noted, they strode around in basques, some with massive breasts overflowing the bodices. Some were already wielding riding crops across the backs and bottoms of restrained slaves. The Prince himself was lounging on a great chair set against the far wall, one leg was nonchalantly thrown across an arm of the throne. Beside him a table practically groaned under the weight of wine bottles and glasses. He rose when Sophie and Asil approached and he walked across to them. Sophie couldn’t help noticing the flaccid but very long member wagging at his darkly thatched groin as he came.
She kept her eyes cast down as he stood in front of her and spoke to the gathering.
“Friends we are here to give White Lightning the reward she was promised, should she win the inaugural Bakhtar Open. As she won it magnificently I don’t intend to insult her by allowing her to walk out of here this night. She will be carried to the bedchamber next door, or I shall count it an evening of wasted time and effort! Now, let us get the proceedings under way properly!”
Sophie was left in no doubt about what her reward would consist of as the very first beating she took was from a single tail whip. In front of excited onlookers, holding drinks and chatting, she was hung by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling, her legs were wrenched wide apart and her ankles clipped to a spreader bar. They left her just enough purchase on tip toes to take some of her weight. As one of the men who mounted her pointed out gleefully, it would extend the length of time she was able to remain suspended.
She never saw who delivered the first beating. There was just a tremendous thump across her back that took her clear off her scrabbling toes, followed by a searing heat. Whoever was laying it on was clearly sparing her nothing. The lashes came in a steady rhythm that allowed her time to regain her breath and her precarious toe holds before deluging her body with sensations that climbed rapidly through pain and then blended into pure masochistic pleasure. In between the clubbing blows, Sophie could see the excitement she was causing in others. Erect cocks were being slowly and respectfully masturbated or sucked by kneeling slaves. Behind the front ranks of the audience she could see the Prince, lounging back on his throne-like chair. Beside him knelt Asil and her small hand was clasped around his now-erect cock, sliding up and down the divine length she so longed to feel inside her. But she couldn’t feel any envy, the whipping was driving her beyond such thoughts and as the fires mounted in her body she flung her head back and climaxed with cunt-cramping power as she screamed and then hung inert in her chains. Around her she dimly heard the applause and laughter and realised she had spurted her juices onto the floor.
From then on the action spread out as other slaves were put to use. Sophie was left to hang for a while until a towering black man took her down and half led, half dragged her over to a leather topped bench. He pushed her down onto it, front first and across it so that she was bent over it. Roughly he clipped her wrists together behind her back and from a rack on the wall beside him took down a cane and began to swish it in the air as he grinned down at her. She had never had the cane and to judge by the size of him, her first beating with one was going to be a humdinger.
It was. There was a split second’s numbness as the wickedly thin length of rattan bit deeply into her bottom and then a stinging fire was lit that eclipsed everything she had undergone to date as a slave. She lifted her head and howled, then shrieked even louder as another lash cracked home, then another, she danced up onto her toes and cried out again. And again. Tears blinded her and her throat began to feel raw, but still there was no let up in the beating and in vain she waited for her usual pleasure to kick in. After six thunderous lashes, at last she felt the agony begin to transform into blinding heat and hot tides of moisture in her belly. It was still agony, but at least it was now exciting and after a few more lashes, she felt huge fingers slip up into her vagina with no problem and heard a chuckle of amusement from behind her. He probed and explored her sheath for a few moments and then withdrew. But Sophie barely had a chance to mew in disappointment before she felt the breathtaking width of his cock head spread her lips apart and then barge into her body. She could feel how the massive shaft was pushing the walls of her vagina apart and
stimulating them as it did so. The man’s hands came to rest on her hips and he began to fuck her, slamming himself against her agonised buttocks. The combination of sensations swept her away and she once again screamed her release as she felt her cervix being battered as her belly cramped once more and she knew she was shamelessly spurting again. The man laughed and continued to fuck her, grabbing a fistful of hair to brace himself so he could go at her even harder. As Sophie’s head was dragged up she saw another man in front of her. From the thatch of his pubic hair, a thick cock speared up eagerly, the gleaming helm seeming to point directly at her mouth and arrogantly demand entry.
“Mind if I mouth-fuck her?” the man said.
“No, be my guest. You heard his Highness, he wants her put through the wringer,” the man behind her replied without missing his rhythm as he ploughed her vagina.
Sophie barely had time to open her mouth wide enough before the cock was plunged in, filling it with the rich taste of a previous ejaculation and another taste that Sophie recognised as being from an especially pungent woman. It was a combination of tastes that she hadn’t experienced since leaving the Pretty Pony and she relished it, sucking eagerly on him and trying to swirl her tongue in what little space was left in her mouth. She didn’t need to worry about moving backwards and forwards on him, the man behind her was still battering her. So she joyfully sank into a deep, dark morass of delight as she was shaken about at both ends. With a cock-muffled wail of panic she realised she was heading pell mell for yet another blinding climax and was helpless to stop it being frighteningly devastating. Unheeding and concerned only for their own pleasure, the men fucked her and as she began to try and scream at the intensity of the approaching orgasm, the cock in her mouth spurted its thick load of sperm into the back of her mouth – with her head thrown back she couldn’t get it into her throat. At the same time the man behind her suddenly clawed his fingers into her hips and held her tight as he made short jabbing thrusts into her. As she spiralled upwards she was trying to swallow and scream at the same time as her pelvic muscles were convulsing. It was the most racking orgasm she had ever had and it left her hanging limply across the bench, dribbling sperm from her nose and mouth and with floods of juice and sperm oozing down her thighs.
The men simply laughed and moved away, allowing her to sink backwards onto the cool stone floor. But not for long. A hand in her hair dragged her to her feet and she found herself staring blearily at a dark haired man who smiled slowly and reached for her so-far ignored breasts. Dragging her after him he took her to stand face-first against one of the massive pillars. He held her there with one hand in the small of her back as he rummaged in another rack of equipment. He came back with a gag strap and buckled it tightly into her mouth so that it dragged her lips back more violently than a bit did.
“Could have been a ball gag but I like to hear some screaming,” he told her in an American accent, his body pressed close against her back so that she could feel the size and heat of his erection. He held her steady again and rummaged once more, coming back with an anal hook. She couldn’t recall having had one in her before but was past caring now. She just needed another orgasm.
He kicked her legs farther apart and she felt the cold steel of the bulbous end of the hook rubbed up the insides of her thighs and along the slit of her sex, then it was unceremoniously thrust into her arse, sliding through her sphincters on the lubricant of her sap and the black man’s spunk. She made a soft moan of mingled discomfort and arousal which was cut off as her head was jerked backwards violently. She felt the gag strap loosen for a moment and then it was buckled back up and her head was held fast as she felt the anal hook strain to insert itself more deeply if she attempted to lower it. She realised the man must have linked the chain on the hook to the back of the gag strap at a length that would keep her head wrenched back.
She was spun round and backed against the pillar. Her legs were spread and her ankles shackled again and a rope was passed behind her lower back, wound round her arms and then round the pillar to keep her torso pulled back against it. The back of her head was pressed against the stone and she was aware that her upper body was arched forward away from the pillar. He was going to work on her breasts she realised, as she tried to swallow nervously behind the gag and stared up at the vaulting. If she squinted down her nose she could just see the man take up his stance holding a leather tailed flogger. He too had attracted an audience who were egging him and passing comments about the size of her tits and how much better they would look once they were welted.
Sophie was suddenly aware that her breasts had never been concentrated on as part of the sessions she had had at the ranch, they had been caressed and admired but rarely had the stroking gone on to become full blooded strikes. That was all about to change, and she found she was looking forward to knowing what a serious tit-whipping felt like.
It stung and bruised, both at the same time. The whip scythed down, and a blaze of hot pain swamped her chest as she felt the weight of her breasts swing and bounce under the leathers. It was a strange feeling and one she immediately loved. The whip fell again and kept falling but she couldn’t scream at the pain because she was loving every second of the sensations. If she had had the use of her hands, she knew she would have been masturbating desperately, but as it was she had to wait while the climb to orgasm went on slowly, slowly as the whip thudded and her breasts burned deeper and deeper and swung and shook deliciously.
To her horror it stopped before she could finish, but her flagellator merely stepped forwards and thrust his cock straight up into her molten vagina. With her legs spread wide she was at a height that facilitated straight in fucking and after he had thrust into her a couple of times, his chest pressed hard against hers to counter the way she was arched forward, Sophie was desperately begging him in incoherent gag-strapped mumbles to go harder and deeper. She could feel her orgasm building; it was close, so close. The man smiled down at her and began to come inside her, his eyes closed in delight and he threw his head back as he emptied his balls into her, then stepped away immediately. Sophie felt her herself empty and aching and tears of frustration crept down her cheeks.
But someone else picked up the whip and began to beat her breasts. Staring up at the stone ceiling as her tits were emblazoned with hotter and hotter pain and ecstasy, Sophie’s tears turned to ones of pure gratitude. She came so hard she nearly blacked out and when her senses returned it was to find she was being fucked again.
In the years that followed, on the rare occasions when exhausted sleep didn’t claim her immediately in the evenings, Sophie would look back at that night in the Prince’s dungeon as the night when she finally became what she had been born to become. A creature of pure physicality. Her body was the essence of what she was, it was the means whereby she gave pleasure and received it. And that was what she was for; that was her purpose. The chip embedded in her neck only served to amplify what had been there all along, it didn’t matter what was done to her body so long as someone took pleasure in it. Given that one thing, she knew she would revel in any debauchery or humiliation. During that night she realised she wanted the Prince to keep her in a cage and only let her out for his friends to play with, she wanted to be an animal for him; a predatory sexual creature. She wanted chains and whips, she wanted to be tamed and broken, then played with – beaten and penetrated in every way a woman could be – then petted and put away again. To be given permission to masturbate to orgasm in front of a crowd of strangers would be nothing but a privilege which she would earn under her Master’s whips and on the ends of his friends’ cocks.
She could never recall the details of the night but she knew that in the end they didn’t need to use her leash; she crawled willingly on hands and knees behind whoever wanted her next, eager to serve and to see what new experiences awaited her. There were more beatings, there were needles, there were passionate slavegirl tongues lapping her sap from inside and around her flooding vagina and anus. She was bugger
ed whilst fellating, then hung by her ankles and whipped between her legs. They hung her with her hands left free and high enough off the floor so that slaves were able to stand with their legs apart so she could lick the sperm and juice from them and hold them close to her while she took the whip.
Then at last there was Asil’s hand in her sperm-matted hair and she was being dragged through a door beside the Prince’s chair and into a bed chamber. There was a richly decorated four poster bed and beside it a plain wooden platform at a similar height with shackles at each corner. Asil led her to it, helped her up onto it and then buckled the restraints onto her so that she was spreadeagled on her back. Burning, stinging and dazed from orgasm after orgasm, Sophie managed to raise her head and watch her friend stand with her back to her in front of their owner.
Her softly rounded body carried spectacular marks and welts and it was all Sophie could do to stop herself moaning with desire. The Prince stood with his back to a desk, his cock shining with discharge but flaccid for the moment and Sophie realised that if he had taken her she hadn’t been aware of it.
“You were told to bring her here, yes? Just that,” the Prince was saying.
“Yes, your Highness,” Asil replied and Sophie could see her beginning to tremble.
The Prince picked up a remote control and flicked a screen into life. Instantly there were the life size images of Asil kissing her and fondling her in the dressing room. Asil feel to her knees and bathed the Prince’s feet in kisses begging forgiveness, but in vain.
“I will have total obedience, girl!” he said sternly. “You trade too much on my fondness for you. A week in solitary!”
Asil wailed and begged and kissed his feet until he kicked her away.