Slave

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Slave Page 4

by Candace Blevins


  “I’ve heard rumors, Your Majesty.” Also, everyone knew the rabbits were aligned with The Summer Queen, so I wondered why one had broken off and was in bed with The Winter Queen.

  She chuckled, and the happy sound made me love her all over again. “All likely true.”

  The man stood beside the bed, and I stole a quick glance before looking back to the floor. No collar, so he was a free man. Also, his cock was scary big.

  He stepped behind the Queen and pulled her to him with a familiarity that told me these two were close.

  “Enjoy your new toy. I’ll see myself out.”

  The Queen leaned into him as he kissed her neck from behind. He took a few moments to put his pants and shirt on, and I felt his gaze on me while he dressed.

  “She looks terribly pixie for only being a quarter blooded.”

  “Yes. Perhaps I’ll let you taste her soon, but not tonight.”

  He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Goodnight, Your Majesty. I look forward to the next time I see you.”

  She waited until the doors closed behind him before returning her focus to me. “Tell me what you’ve learned today, Little One.”

  “Your people love you, Your Majesty. I mean, your people in the palace. Everyone outside the palace is terrified of you.”

  She chuckled. “Oh, there are plenty inside the palace who fear me, but you’ve been around those I deem trustworthy today. Are you still as afraid of me as you were this morning?”

  “It’s a different kind of fear now, my Queen. This morning I was afraid of what you’d do to me, or that I wouldn’t understand the rules here and would mess up. Now, I’m afraid I won’t please you and I’ll be sent away.”

  “You’ll find three whips on the chest near the large tapestry. Look them over and tell me which you prefer, and why.”

  No one had ever given me a choice in what I’d prefer to be whipped with.

  My most recent Master would’ve wanted me to ask permission to rise, but the little time I’d spent around Her Majesty told me permission was implied, since it was the only way for me to look over the whips. She was a no-nonsense Queen, and I respected her for it.

  Her gaze felt like a physical caress as I walked across the room, and I fell back on my training so I could walk as gracefully as possible. I didn’t take too much time looking the three whips over before I lifted them, felt the leather and weight of each, and carefully thought my answer through. I hate making decisions, but I’d learned Her Majesty expects an answer when she asks a question.

  The first whip was likely made of deerskin, and was so soft and supple it wouldn’t have done more than caress the skin. The second was braided leather, barely broken in, and it would give the most delicious pain. The last was alternately braided and knotted from an ultra-stiff, heavy leather, and the knots had some kind of animal claw sticking from them — the recipient would be a bloody mess after less than two dozen strikes.

  I put the knotted whip down and lifted the braided one again. I wasn’t sure where to look, so I focused on her feet when I turned to face her. I balanced the whip on my two open palms without grasping it. “Since I believe you’ll be able to take your time today, I feel this is the best choice, Your Majesty. However, if you only have a few minutes to spare then the knotted whip will be best.”

  “You’ll attend an orientation tomorrow, where you’ll learn the castle rules and expectations. Some of your rules will vary slightly. For instance, in private, you may look me in the eyes to answer a question. Around others, you should look at my chin or my breasts. When at rest, you may look at the floor unless there’s a reason to be alert, in which case you can lift your gaze as long as you don’t stare in an unseemly fashion.”

  I met her gaze before dropping my focus to her chin, and her smile told me she was pleased.

  “Walk to me and ask me to whip you, Little One.”

  I looked at her chin while I walked to her, and dropped to my knees as gracefully as I could when I reached her. Again unsure of where to look, I focused on her feet and lifted the whip in both hands, as an offering. “Please, Your Majesty, I beg of you to find favor of me while you whip me.”

  She removed the whip from my outstretched hands, and I placed them behind my back.

  “I appreciate the respect and grace you’re demonstrating,” she said, “but if you’re looking at my feet, you won’t see where I point you to go.”

  I met her gaze again, and she pointed to a rope hanging from the ceiling, in an open area so she’d be able to walk all around me. “It’s been spelled so you won’t be able to let go. Once you grasp it, only I can release you.”

  She didn’t order me to grasp it, but I knew what she wanted. Some Masters and trainers expect you to know what they wish you to do without having to spell it out, others will punish you for taking any initiative, and only want you to follow direct orders. Learning the expectations of those you’re under is an important part of learning to be a good slave.

  I walked to the rope, reached up, and wrapped my hands around the large knot a few inches from the end. I had to stretch to reach, so I stood with my weight on my toes and my body elongated below the frayed rope.

  The first strike snaked around my hips and sliced into tender skin. Fire ripped through my nervous system, and my shrill scream echoed around the room and returned to me.

  Her Majesty let the whip fly over and over, and as before, my twists and turns made every part of my body available to her. She’d stay high on my torso several dozen lashes, and whether my breasts, back, or underarms were hit was solely determined by how I twisted and danced under her whip. She moved her attentions to my bottom, and I twisted away to give my rear a respite from the punishing leather, but my cunny and thighs were struck by the cruel, braided leather strands.

  The Dark Queen worked her way up and down my tortured body more times than I can count. I cried and screamed, but I never begged Her Majesty to stop. It was more than I could handle with grace, and yet I’d miss the pain of the merciless leather striking over and over when she grew tired of using it on me.

  When she finally dropped the whip to the floor and stepped to me, my chest heaved while I gasped, panted, and fought to catch my breath. Her Majesty ran her hands along the dozens and dozens of welts, and — as I knew would be the case — I was disappointed it was over. I mean, I appreciated the opportunity to catch my breath, but I wanted more. It’s never about what a slave wants, though, and I was happy for what I’d received.

  Her Majesty must’ve explored every bruise and welt at least twice, and my heart melted in my chest when The Dark Queen wiped the tears from my cheeks with her bare fingers.

  “Such a beauty. The whip loves your skin.”

  She touched my hands and I felt the magic release, but I didn’t let go.

  “Such a good girl. Clasp your elbows behind your back.”

  The doors opened, and a tall man walked in as the Queen reached out to steady me.

  “You rang, my Queen?”

  “I wish to go to sleep and then awaken to the sight of my lovely new slave as art. I’ll let you make plans and send for any supplies you may need while I take my pleasures with her.”

  The man looked me over from head to foot, and pointed to the floor in front of him. I looked to the Queen, who said, “The doctor took your measurements, but my bondage master needs to acquaint himself with you, Little One.”

  I walked to the spot the man had pointed to, and went through the yoga poses he requested. When he finished with me, Her Majesty was reclined on her bed, her knees spread so I could see the pink between the lips of her beautiful pussy, and a mass of pillows supporting her back.

  “I want to feel your tongue again, Little One. Climb onto the bed and crawl to me, but then your hands go behind your back until you’re given permission to use them.”

  My training involved hundreds of instruction and practice hours in the arts of cunnilingus and fellatio, and I used every trick I knew to plea
se The Dark Queen. I'd learned earlier what turned Her Majesty on, but without the use of my hands, I explored more. Once I figured her out even better, I gave her orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm. When she finally let me use my hands, I was able to make each orgasm last ten times longer.

  My mouth, tongue, neck, and shoulders were beyond exhausted when she finally pushed me to the side, but I hadn’t slowed down in the least, no matter how tired I’d been.

  “The Bondage Master should arrive soon, please take care of whatever needs you have in the restroom, and return when you’ve finished.”

  I straightened my eye makeup as much as possible with my fingers. The lipstick was long gone. I washed the lower part of my face, drank some water, relieved myself, and was kneeling on a rug when the Bondage Master returned. Her Majesty was at her desk on the other side of the room, looking through paperwork, dressed in a tight skirt and blouse with her signature high collar.

  I’d expected The Dark Queen to do more to test me, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain. However she wanted me, I’d do my best to please her.

  At the Bondage Master’s orders, I stood with my fingers laced at the back of my head while he created an elaborate rope corset around my torso.

  The Queen sat at her desk and worked, and occasionally people came into the room to answer questions or receive orders.

  When the corset was complete, two strands of rope went between my legs and spread my lips open, rose over my shoulders from behind, and came down to bind my breasts.

  I ached from the whipping, and the hunter green ropes chafed my already reddened and abraded skin. Eventually though, they supported and held me, and since the rough texture held me at the order of the Queen, it was as if she held me.

  When my breasts were plumped the way he seemed to want, the rope master connected the corset to a long trapeze bar over my head, and lifted me into the air before weaving the rope to decorate and hold my legs. When he finished, I must’ve looked as if I were leaned slightly forward and running, with my legs spread wide open so anyone under me could see everything.

  The ropes held the weight of my body from multiple points, and I relaxed into the discomfort, happy in the knowledge my Queen would take pleasure in my pain while I floated mid-air in her bedroom.

  I was there at least an hour, perhaps longer, after the Bondage Master finished and while Her Majesty continued to work. When she finally finished and cleared her desk, she walked to me. Her gaze clearly scanned the rope master’s handiwork, though her focus seemed attuned to the parts of my body in the most discomfort.

  I was literally flying — physically, emotionally, and mentally. My mind was foggy, my body bound, and nothing anchored me to the ground. I moved with my breath.

  “Some nights,” my Queen told me, her voice sharper than it’d been earlier, “I may put a weighted butt plug in you and challenge you to hold it in until morning. Other nights, I may coat your insides with pepper oil. No matter what I do, you’ll remain silent while I sleep, or you may never have the opportunity to spend the night in my chambers again.”

  Her Majesty went into her closet and came out completely nude. She still looked regal, even without the fancy clothes. She took some paperwork to bed, read until she grew sleepy, teleported the papers away, and waved her arm to extinguish the light.

  What must it be like, to control so much magic? I’d heard stories of the tortures she visited upon people with her magic, but other than the magic’d rope so I couldn’t let go, she hadn’t used magic to hurt me. The memory of the needle penetrating my nipple slammed into me, and I nearly groaned aloud when my clit throbbed back to life. I was determined to remain silent, so thankfully, I pulled it in before the sound actually formed.

  Not long after I heard the steady sounds of her breathing to let me know she was asleep, I started to ache all over, and utter exhaustion took hold. My head wasn’t supported, my arms were bound near my torso, my legs were at odd angles, and my body tilted forward so there was no way to balance my head on my neck. There was no way to sleep. When I nodded off, my head fell forward and awakened me. I’d been tired long before Her Majesty turned the light out, but in the dark, pain turned into agony.

  I suffered through the night in silence, but made sure I did nothing to disturb The Dark Queen’s rest. I had no way of marking time, but slaves are used to waiting quietly when stored out of the way. Our time belongs to our owners, not to us. She wanted me to hurt all night so she could see the results when she awakened, and I determined to give her exactly what she wanted.

  Chapter Five

  Little One

  I was exhausted when Her Majesty awakened the next morning, but attempted to look pleasant and not grumpy. I needed to use the restroom, but no way would I risk being sent away when she was paying attention to me.

  She didn’t speak to me, though she fondled me when she walked by, on her way to the restroom. She took a dozen extra steps to fondle me again before she went to her closet, though I noted she only donned a robe, and didn’t dress.

  The robe’s collar was high around her face, and she’d awakened with her beautiful, shiny black hair framing her face. It had to be magic. This time, she walked to me and stopped, and seemed to take special interest in looking over the marks left by the whip.

  I’d thought my cunny dry all night, held open by the ropes, and the area around my clit was, indeed, dry and achy. However, she poked a few fingers in me without warning, and chuckled when she noted how wet I was inside. Fingers came to my lips, and I cleaned them for her, tasting myself.

  Before I was finished cleaning them, two fingers pushed down on my tongue and traced their way to the back of my mouth. I opened wide to give her room, and relaxed my throat to keep from gagging when the fingers pressed far into my throat.

  She’d yet to say a word, and I couldn’t get a handle on her mood. Nothing mattered except pleasing her, though.

  I expected the rope master to have to come release me, but she supported me with her magic and made the ropes disappear before levitating me gently to the floor so I was reclined on my side.

  My heart swelled until I thought it might burst when Her Majesty knelt beside me and rubbed my arms and legs, but I worried I should be attending her, and not the other way around.

  “Relax, Little One. I have a busy day planned, but I can take a few minutes to see to you.” She stroked a finger from the inside of my elbow to the palm of my hand. “This will hurt, but I’ll block the pain while it heals.” She caressed my cheek. “I enjoy hurting you sexually, but this is different.”

  She held her hand in front of her, and a shiny metal something appeared in it. Before I knew what was happening, she held the metal to my forearm and froze me, so I couldn’t move. Magical fire soaked into the whitest part of my inner arm, but I was immobilized so I couldn’t even breathe. I might have lost bladder control, if I hadn’t been frozen.

  Ten seconds, and she teleported the metal brand away. “Breathe, Little One. Deep in and out, and when you blow the air out, the pain will fade.”

  I gasped air in, blew it out, and as she said, the pain blew away with the air.

  I looked down to see a fancy M with curls and tails, but it was raised and beautiful, instead of burned in like a brand.

  “Only I can give this brand. Anyone who sees you will know you’re my personal plaything.”

  She touched under my chin, and I met her gaze.

  “Being my personal plaything is a responsibility, not a privilege. You’re expected to represent me with humility and grace. Understood?”

  “I do, my Queen. Thank you for gifting me with your mark.”

  “You’re welcome, my beautiful Little One. Nissa’s assigned you a bed in the slave quarters, and you’ll have some time to nap after breakfast. You’ll run with my human ponies this afternoon, and I can’t wait to see how you do with them.” She fondled a few of my welts before helping me sit. My neck and back were still terribly stiff, but I did my best to show g
race.

  “Even if you prove worthy of being sent to the stables, I plan to keep you for myself. I quite enjoyed waking and having you close. I might let you have your way with one of the pony boys though, if you please me.”

  Her Majesty ran her hand down my back, and I felt the tingle of her magic. The pain of the night faded a little — not so much I was disappointed to lose the reminder of my time with her, but enough I’d be able to function a little easier.

  NISSA TOOK ME TO THE baths first, and this time we were in a large, public room. She bound my hair out of the way, had me hold onto a bar over my head, and methodically soaped me from my neck to my toes. I was ordered into a line, and I followed other soapy slaves down some steps into the chest-high water. I followed their example and slowed enough to dip down to my neck, and climbed the steps on the other side of the bathing pool. We walked through a tunnel with wind whipping all around, and I was dry when I stepped out the other end. Nissa let my hair down and led me to the kitchen, where I once again sat with the same, friendly cook.

  Breakfast was a plate full of bacon and as much French toast as I wanted — with real maple syrup. Slaves are lucky to get corn syrup for sweetener, and I’d never had the real thing before.

  When I finished, Nissa showed me to my bed, and I sank into the comfy mattress and let sleep settle around me.

  I awakened to find small, flesh-colored bandages on the half-dozen places Her Majesty had split my skin with her whip, and no memory of anyone seeing to them.

  My bed was nothing more than a shelf on the wall, but it was so comfortable I never wanted to get up. Unfortunately, I had to pee. There was a lot of activity as other slaves came and went, but the beds were apparently in some kind of magically induced sound dampener, because I didn’t hear any of the noise until I stood. I counted how high the beds went up on the wall — seven high, with perhaps four feet of space between them on all sides. Ladders snaked up the walls between them, and I was thankful I’d been assigned a bed only a few feet above the floor.

 

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