By Judicial Decree

by Commander James Bondage

  When she did as he had instructed, he came around behind her and brought a plastic strap attached to the column at the height of her neck around her throat and fastened it on the other side, pinning her head to the metal.

  Elenora was frightened. “Please, sir, what are you going to do? Please don’t hurt me,” she begged pitifully.

  Caine stood over the helpless girl, smiling and tapping the leather crop in his hand.

  “Punishment occurs when you have done something wrong, such as failing to obey an order,” he explained to the naked girl. “Discipline is simply to make certain that you are obedient and attentive at all times. You will receive discipline regularly; indeed, you must ask for it. Punishment is in addition to your regular discipline. You will now ask me to discipline you on your beautiful titties.”

  Elenora gasped. “Oh, but you can’t mean it, sir! Please don’t… ahh!” she cried out suddenly as he swung the crop and left a bright red mark on her left cheek. He hit her again, on the other cheek, saying, “If you persist in disobedience, I will punish you. Now ask me to discipline you on your tits, before my patience runs out.”

  She was in shock. No one had ever hurt her so badly before. Even the spanking and whipping she had endured the previous day had not prepared her for her master’s brutality today. The weeping that wracked her made it difficult for her to speak.

  “Oh… oh… pl… please… oh… ma… master… won’t you… discipli… discipline me… on my…. t… oh I can’t!” she said, unable to say the words over the storm of tears that overcame her.

  Caine was secretly delighted. This girl’s suffering exceeded that of even the most delicate slaves he had ever owned before. He struck her in the face again.

  “Say it!” he demanded.

  Tears flooded down her face as she cried out. “Oh, oh! Please, master, discipline me on my t… tits!” she finally forced out.

  She screamed in pain as he lashed out at her perfect globes, leaving a red line on the upper summits of both. Her wonderful mounds jiggled under the impact.

  “Next time, don’t take so long to obey, or I will be forced to punish you severely,” he told his victim. “You will apologize now.”

  “I am so sorry, master,” Elenora said. “Please don’t be angry with me,” she added pathetically.

  “Sit up straight, arch you back and hold your tits out to be disciplined,” he ordered.

  She did, still hoping that her gentle obedience would make him relent. She continued to hope for his non-existent mercy.

  “I beg you please be kind, sir. I am only a weak girl, and it hurts me so,” she said. She still was unable to understand that her pain was this man’s pleasure. In her innocence, she could not see that he enjoyed being cruel to her for no reason at all.

  He struck her hard again, first on the side of her right breast and then with the return stroke on the left. Over her screams, he said, “Kindness would be wasted on you. You must first learn obedience and discipline.”

  He proceeded to lash at her tender breasts steadily, not giving her a chance to say any more. She screamed wordlessly under the assault, thrashing helplessly on the ground at his feet, her cries of pain making the erection in his pants grow stiffer with each stroke.

  In the end, her perfect breasts were crossed with fiery red lines on the summits, on both sides, and even across the sensitive flesh of her nipples.

  When he finally stopped, he sternly asked the sobbing, despairing beauty, “Well, what do have to say for yourself?”

  Her cheeks awash with her tears, she turned her face up to her tormentor and said brokenly, “I’m s… sorry master. What… whatever I did to… d… displease you, I promise… I won’t… oh! Please don’t hurt me any more, Master!”

  “That will depend on you,” he said. “The quality of your service will determine how often I will need to correct you. But now, you are to thank me for providing the discipline you so obviously need. Do so now.”

  “Oh, thank you, sir f… for c… c… correcting me,” she stuttered.

  He was not going to let her off so easily. “Explain why you needed to be disciplined and how will benefit from it,” her master demanded mercilessly.

  Elenora had never been disciplined or corrected before her enslavement, because her father had raised her with a very gentle hand. In any case, she was so sweet tempered and good natured that there was never any occasion to punish her.

  She did not know what to say.

  “I… I… don’t know why you had to hurt me, but…” suddenly, without warning, he resumed the beating, slashing at her already well-marked titties. “… ah! Please stop! Oh! No more, I beg you!” she shrieked, vainly writhing at his feet, trying to dodge this new attack.

  When he stopped, he lifted her chin with the riding crop that had caused her so much misery, and said, “I do not want to hear any more nonsense. You will give me a good reason why you need constant discipline and explain how it will improve you. Any more of your foolishness, and I will be forced, against my will, to punish you severely.”

  “Oh master,” she sobbed, “I am s… sure that your… w… wonderful discipline is very g… good for me. It will…” she thought quickly. What did he want? “…will make me a better s-servant,” she sniffled as she finished, looking up at him for approval. When he did not resume whipping her, she went on, “Thank y… you for t… taking… so much trouble to… improve me, master.”

  “And just how will you be a better servant?” he wanted to know.

  “Oh master, I will be much more obedient,” she said with wide-eyed sincerity. “I will fly obey your every wish!”

  “We’ll just have to see about all that,” he grumbled. “Talk is cheap; promises are easy to make, and just as easy to break.” He released the strap around her neck and ordered the girl to her feet.

  Taking her by the elbow, he led her across the room to stand in front of a freezer. He opened the freezer door and removed several blue bags, which were obviously very cold. Little clouds of vapor rose from them when they were exposed to the relative warmth of the room. He slid the bags into a thin, flexible cloth sling or bag, and then closed the cloth bag so that the icy blue sacks could not escape. He held it up to Elenora, who was still sniffling.

  “You must wear this on your tits,” Caine said. “I don’t want them to get discolored from bruises.” The cloth sling had straps and buckles, and he quickly settled it over her throbbing breasts, tying it tightly under her arms in the back.

  Elenora gasped in surprise when the frozen bags touched her delicate skin. The sensation became rapidly worse. Her breasts were freezing. She moaned, and said, “Oh master, please, it’s so cold!”

  “Then we’ll have to do something to take your mind off it,” he said. “Maybe you’d like a nice paddling to warm up your bottom?” he suggested.

  Her mind whirled. Was her service to her master to consist of nothing but whippings, paddlings and unending pain?

  “Oh, not that, master. Let me do something to make you feel good instead, please,” she pleaded.

  The offer was well timed, because Caine was ready and more than ready for sexual relief after watching the innocent girl’s delightful (to him) suffering. He could no longer put off his enjoyment of this delicious slave’s body.

  “All right then, I will grant your request and give you a chance to make good on your promises,” he said. He took a seat in his easy chair. “Come over to me,” he ordered.

  Elenora approached him, until she stood directly before his chair.

  “Now turn around, spread your legs and bend over as far as you can,” he directed.

  When she had done so, he had an excellent view of the pouting lips of her virginal pussy and her tiny wrinkled asshole. “Back closer to me,” he ordered. Reluctantly, Elenora shuffled her feet, inching her upraised hindquarters nearer to his chair, until the backs of her calves touched his legs.

  “Now I want you to start playing with yourself. Make yourself all wet
for me,” he commanded.

  Elenora was utterly innocent of sexual knowledge beyond what she had seen and experienced in the last two days. She had never masturbated. Yesterday, when her master had rubbed her clitoris, was the first time she had ever experienced any sexual excitement.

  “I don’t…” she began, but stopped. She realized the master would be very angry indeed if she failed to carry out this instruction. She wondered if he understood how difficult it was for her to obey such orders. “Of course, master,” she said, her fingers gingerly spreading the lips of her sex, and cautiously exploring the interior. She could feel the heat of a blush spreading over her inverted cheeks and forehead. Caine’s eyes gleamed with pleasure at this show.

  “Rub your clit, girl,” he said. “I want you sopping wet. You’re going to need all the juice you can make.”

  Her thumb and forefinger now found her little love button. She remembered how the master had handled her the previous day and had produced the “juice” he wanted. As she began to tease the fleshy nub, she also remembered the strange, warm feeling his handling had produced. As she slowly rubbed herself, her clitoris swelled and she was almost able to forget about the ice packs on her frozen breasts (which were, in any case, beginning to become numb). After a few minutes manipulating her love button, Elenora had very nearly forgotten that she was displaying herself outrageously to a man. Her breath came in pants, and she began to make a soft sound deep in her throat of which she was not even conscious. She closed her eyes to better concentrate on the delightful sensation that came in waves from her sex, and drifted in a dreamlike state. The master’s harsh voice broke into her trance, bringing her rudely back to reality.

  “Rub your pussy-juice on your bottom hole, inside and out,” he ordered.

  Elenora was reluctant to cease pleasuring herself, but her fear of Caine’s wrath was more a stronger motivation than the pleasure of this new sensation. Her fingers were by now well coated with slippery lubrication. She slid them lightly around the outside of her anal ring.

  “Obey me at once, or I will whip you on your cunt for one hour,” the master said, angrily. “I want you slippery inside and out, you little simpleton!”

  Elenora hastened to comply, after this blood-curdling threat. As she worked her slippery digits around and inside her asshole, she reflected that it was a little unfair of him to call her names. After all, she was new to this, and was doing her best to follow his orders.

  Caine had pulled his pants down, dropping them to his ankles. Elenora’s display made him feel as if his balls were about to burst from the pressure. He had never been so excited before.

  “That’s enough,” he said thickly, in a voice choked with lust. “Take your hand away and sit back on me, slowly.” He controlled her movement by firmly gripping her hips with his hands, pulling her gradually closer until the head of his engorged meat rested on the slippery entrance to her rear passage.

  “Now you will beg me to fuck your tiny asshole,” he commanded. “Beg me!”

  Elenora was petrified. Something terrible was about to happen to her, she thought, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had to obey her master, didn’t she?

  “Please, master, f… fuck m… me in my l… little… ass… hole.” She could hardly force herself to say the strange words.

  He tugged her at hips, and the head of his stiff cock pressed slowly into the apparently inadequate opening. The undersized hole stretched wide as he entered her with agonizing patience.

  The feeling was totally unexpected, and Elenora involuntarily tried to leap into the air to escape the unwanted visitor. It hurt; it was very intimate and intrusive, and although she did not know why, she thought it was somehow even more shameful than what she had already endured. “Oh please, sir, don’t do that. Ahh! It’s tearing me!”

  He had not the slightest intention of releasing her until he was finished. Although only the head of his organ had penetrated her thus far, he had been so aroused after the discipline session that he was already on the verge of a massive explosion. He pulled harder, working another inch of his thick penis in past the straining ring of tough tissue.

  He pulled out just before he came, crying out in pleasure, his cock throbbing. Then he sank back in the chair, breathing hard.

  Elenora was inconsolable. She wept like a little girl who had had her favorite kitten taken from her. She knew that she had lost something precious, although she was not sure what it was.

  She sank to the ground, crying, and not aware of the words that came directly from her broken heart. “Oh, master, master, please, master, oh, please help me, master…”

  Caine looked down at his beautiful, young slave, and smiled as he thought about her extravagant purchase price. To a true connoisseur of suffering like himself, ninety-five thousand crowns did not begin to approximate the true value of this girl, this Elenora Riley. The pleasure he could extract from her incredible body and her delicious suffering was beyond price. He wondered if Quentin Scales had been tempted to run off with this prize instead of delivering her to his principal. Probably he had been, he decided. What man could resist her charms?

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, two of the female servants took Olivia, still naked, from her room back down to the dungeon in the basement. Her hands were tied behind her back, as before.

  Caine was waiting for her inside. He looked her over with an odd expression on his face.

  “Thank you, girls,” he said, dismissing the servants. He turned back to the naked blond before him contemplating her in silence for what seemed to Olivia to be a long time.

  “I’ve been thinking about, you Mrs. Addison,” he said at last. “I don’t like to admit making a mistake, but after some consideration, I have to concede that I was wrong about you.” He pulled at his lip and paused.

  She was startled by his use of her name, as she had expected him to continue to call her by the new name he had given her. “Mistake? What do you mean?” she asked after another increasingly ominous period of silence.

  He took her by the arm, and led her across the room. “I have decided that you will never be content with the life of a slave. It is clear to me that you are too proud a woman to adapt to menial servitude. I have concluded that you will never fit in here, never be happy as a simple sex slave, so… I am dismissing you from my service. This will be your last day here in this house.” He explained.

  By now he had taken her to stand on a little round platform that was about six inches high.

  “You mean you… you’re selling me?” she quavered, uncertain whether a new master might not be worse than this one. (But was that really possible?)

  “Oh, no, you misunderstand me, Mrs. Addison,” he said as he reached up behind her head. He lowered a thick loop of rope over her head and tightened it quickly around her neck, pulling it tight under her chin in a quick motion before she realized what he was doing. “I’m not going to sell you. I’m just going to hang you today.”

  This was Caine’s tried and true method for breaking the will of his most recalcitrant slaves, and it had never failed him yet. In reality, he no intention of hanging this lovely aristocrat. She, however, had no way of knowing this, and he knew exactly how to make his bluff as realistic as possible.

  As he spoke, his hand went to the handle attached to a drum. The rope ran up from the drum to a pulley, thence down to Olivia, so that when he turned the handle, the rope would shorten, tightening around her slender neck, and pulling her up to slowly strangle.

  “What, oh no, no please, that can’t be right, you can’t just kill me,” the terrified housewife babbled. “Please, sir, whatever mistakes I’ve made, I can… noooo!”

  Her voice trailed off into a diminishing thin shriek as Caine cranked the drum around a half-turn, causing the noose to tighten at the base of her jaw and pull her with dreadful slowness on the balls of her feet.

  Olivia’s eyes bugged from her head. “Please give me a chance,” she forced out in
a hoarse whisper. “I could be very a very good slave. I would. Oh, help, I can’t…” She was obliged to stop when the constriction on her windpipe no longer allowed her enough air for speech.

  Caine turned the drum a few more inches, until only the very tips of her toes were touching the platform. She waited her breath whistling through the small opening left in her trachea for the terrible moment when the rope would lift her by the neck off the ground. But he did not turn the handle. Instead, he stroked his chin thoughtfully with his free hand, and appeared to consider.

  “It’s not about the money, you know,” he explained, to Olivia as she teetered on the edge of death, sounding almost apologetic. “The sixty-five hundred is nothing to me. It seems a shame. You have outstanding tits, ass, all the best equipment, and you have a beautiful face as well…”

  He locked the drum so that the rope immobilized, and then stepped up on the platform next to the trembling Olivia.

  He casually handled her heavy breasts, slowly nodding his head. “Yes, these are very nice… but…” He released her breasts and stepped back down to the drum. He placed his hand once again on the handle. Olivia eyes were huge. She shook her head frantically, tiny shakes, as her movement was so restricted. “No, no. Don’t,” each little shake pleaded.

  “…but you are simply too well bred and aristocratic to ever really accept slavery, so I’m afraid that this is ‘good-bye’,” he finished.

  By a supreme effort Olivia somehow managed to force out a last few syllables. “I… be… happy… yr slave…” The words ended when he unlocked the drum and pushed the handle to rotate it a quarter-turn.

  The moment she had been dreading had arrived. Her feet left the ground, and the full weight of her body pulled the noose under her chin tight. She kicked the air wildly as danced on the air. She couldn’t breathe! She couldn’t breathe! Her heart pounded madly in terror.