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SirSTRYKER -> THE PRINCE OF SPRUCE CHAPTER TWO (5/15/2005 3:24:49 AM)
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Raven Hair meets
The Prince of Spruce
Chapter Two
By
Sir Stryker
It had been nearly two full weeks since her last torture session. Yet on one faithful day, two large, hooded men came and dragged her by the arms into the slave’s bath quarters. She was then roughly tossed onto the cold tile floor. The hooded men left with a slam of the heavy door.
Several slave girls, dressed in long white flowing see through robes, ran to collect the fallen girl. They gently helped the dazed girl to her feet. Once again she was bathed from head to foot with gentleness and the utmost of care. She sat back allowing three naked women to wash her hair, breasts, pussy, and asshole without so much as one complaint, “At least,” she thought to herself, “they are gentle.”
After her bath she was thoroughly checked over. Her body was as if under a microscope with the peering eyes of these women. Any hardened scabs were removed and soothing salve applied.
She was then seated on a soft velvet stool where yet another naked slave girl began brushing her long black hair. It was as if she’d entered a modern day salon and spa. Hair primped and styled with sexy black ringlets streaming down her back.
Her face was most excellent. It had all but healed from the bruises left from being slapped. The make up slave applied just the proper colors and highlights to such young soft skin. She was simply radiant.
At this same slave girl’s bidding, Raven Hair, as her other sisters in pain had dubbed her, stood. She lifted her right foot, then her left, and stepped into a ruby red corset. Another slave girl opened the bath chamber door and the two large hooded men appeared. The each walked behind Raven Hair and reached for and tightly grasped one of the hanging strings on the girls back.
With a knee from them each leaning into her lower back region, Raven Hair’s form was brutally squeezed into that resembling an hour glass. Her breaths came in short spurts at best. She felt as if her stomach and backbone were actually meeting face to face. Yet not a word of complaint escaped her lips.
One guard, after sufficiently binding the girl, felt compelled to not only gaze upon her most lovely orbs of tit flesh which so abundantly oozed over the tight top of the corset, but he also took it upon himself to reach out and grasp, pinch and twist a nipple. This time the girl yelped in pain. An older slave shouted, “Release her at once fool, she is being prepared for the Prince.” The large man quickly snapped his fingers off the aching girl’s nipple and both men departed.
Next Raven Hair raised her arms over her head and the slaves lowered a most beautiful white see through gown on her. It had sewn sequins of all colors and was trimmed at the hem and bodice with spun gold. The slaves sprayed scented oils and lotions on her. They fussed with her hair and makeup until they walked her in front of a full length mirror.
The woman in the glass looked to Raven Hair, to be one of high society, a Lady of the Court. Definitely not a stolen poor hard working bar made who’d been forced into all sorts of wickedness.
She gasp. Her breath now taken away at her own beauty. Then she blushed and turned away from the mirror.
Two slave girls then lead her gently by elbows, leading her through the doors, past the guards, and down a long dark hallway, then up a winding staircase. It was dimly light. Sparsely were the flickering candles hung on the walls.
After a very long and winding climb, the trio reached the top. A giant double solid oak door with gold layers around the frame. In the center of each door was a golden dragons head. The fearsome faces of the beasts dared have red forked tongues sticking out of their mouths.
To the right of center on the porch stood a six foot round gong made of solid brass. Next to it on a tripod, leaned a large brass hammer. A slave girl said to Raven Hair, “Wait here.” Then she grabbed the huge hammer and swung it with all her might. Raven Hair watched as the slave returned the hammer and ran down the staircase. Just as she thought, Raven Hair turned to see the girl on her left halfway down the stairway, in the dim light.
From behind the large doors Raven Hair could hear a faint yet approaching tapping sound of hard wood against tile flooring. Soon, the left door creaked open. The girl stood transfixed, peering in, yet seeing nothing. A sudden “THUMP” “THUMP” “THUMP” of the staff, followed by a tiring old voice yelling, “Enter child, enter.”
Raven Hair walked tentatively into the room. It was grand. Bright sunlight shone through windows twenty feet high. They illuminated the lavish gold and brass warrior’s breast plates of old which hung on the walls. She took in, with a slow sweep of her head, the neatly hung paintings of the Royal Family who’ve passed away. Some smiling pretty as you please. Some with dark piercing eyes that followed you when you moved.
“THUMP, THUMP, over here slut,” the voice from her blind side left rear came. She turned to see a near seven foot tall, thin and balding, winkled up old man. He had a thick long white flowing beard which hung down to the middle of his chest.
He was dressed in a long dark robe which accented his beard. In his right hand he held a six foot tall walking stick made of the finest spruce tree in the forest. Raven Hair, assuming this must surely be the Prince bowed before the gigantic man before her.
“THUMP, THUMP, THUMP,” thrice banged the staff shocking the girl.
“This must not be! Arise this instant foolish, foolish slut. I am not He who summoned you hear child. She stood cowering below him. The man stared down into her frightened face and continued.
“I am Zolerx, Wizard to His majesty. I have been so since the birth of His Father and was Grand Wizard to Him as well.” With an indignant canter Zolerx turned and slowly lead he girl, with his voice over his shoulder, into the Throne room..
She could not help but notice the lush thick red carpet which lead up six steps and stopped beneath the Throne. It was solid gold with goose down covered in purple silk with gold fringes. Gems and jewels of all sorts adorned it. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, large cut, crushed to powder, all used quite cleverly.
She marveled at the lavish decorations hanging from the walls. The large table at the center of the carpet. Gold breast plates of fallen warriors. Valiant men. Courageous in battle. The fought to the last, every one of them. It was their nature.
Zolerx took the girls elbow and lead her to a balcony which overlooked the training yard of the royal guards.
Below a door flung open and a naked woman an around seeking escape. Six warriors on horse back, in full battle armor. Spiked heels, swords, daggers, and each carrying a cat of nine tails in his hand. The warriors began slowly circling the terrified slave girl. She’d back away, only to be kicked in the ribs or hips by another horse. She’d try to duck between two riders swiftly, and receive two sharp blows from their lashes. As she’d fall and roll on the dirt floor, she would often roll through horse droppings. It didn’t matter, she was trying to save some of her exposed body from the whipping, but to no avail.
Raven Hair gasp at the torturous sight below her and broke her elbow free of Zolerx’s grab. She looked away turning to her right with her hands covering her eyes. Zolerx mis-thought and swiftly reached out his withered, yet very strong hand and grabbed the girl by her hair. With a yank and a twist, he forced the bewildered slave girl to return her gaze to the on goings below.
A warrior threw a net over the girl and was dragging her behind his galloping horse. She rolled and tumbled and bounced for at least half a mile of so. After the cheering and clapping and slapping of backs the remaining warriors did, Zolex released his grip on the girls hair. An expression of sudden and total shock overtook him. The girl looked up into the sunken eyes of the large old man and knew at once she’d seen that same look only moments ago, at his demanding. Then with a gasp Zolex fell forward, over the edge of the balcony and down into the dirt of the floor of the warriors training yard. Since he landed face first, it was clear to see what happened. A silent yet deadly arrow had entered his back and sank deeply into his no longer beating heart.
Nonetheless daunted, the warriors swooped on the old dead wizard’s body and sliced his head off. They played a sort of game using staffs and horse back seeing if one could knock the head into a basket. The girl watched in horror. Frozen in fear unable to look away. The dark deep voice came from behind her. It suddenly weakened her to her very soul and she could do not but say, over her shoulder, “Good Day Sire Prince,” and turn and bow low.
The tall slender dark man approached her and offered His hand. She took it and rose but kept her head bowed.
“I have sought for one such as you slut. One who has fire in her heart and a flame of passion and a taste for danger that smolders deep inside her. Yes, yes, My little slut, I shall teach, and test, try and discover, explore and push and twist and pull your every desire out into the open and then slave, I will exploit them!”
“From this moment forward your very life is not worth as much as those two lost souls in the warriors court yard.” The Prince strode back to His throne. The arrow had come at His direction, from one of several bowmen who are stationed on a fifteen foot high catwalk. This cat walk access each room, each hallway, each staircase so that at no time is the Prince without men dedicated and trained, fed and paid to do one thing…assassinate upon the command of The Prince of Spruce.
Once seated, the Prince beckoned the girl to approach. She slowly, head bowed, walked toward the steps. She knelt and crawled up each of the six steps and bowed down at His feet. With a humble kiss on each foot she whispered,
“Your Royal Highness, I you humble slave answer to your call Sire.”
The Prince sat and stared at the kneeling slut then said, “Stand slut and remove your clothing at once.”
With out question she stood and disrobed. Her body a near pristine example of womanhood. “Turn around, slowly,” He commanded. The girl obeyed and turned slowly left to right. Her ample breasts came to His view first. His eyes squinted in a wicked look of deep thought. As she turned He noticed the tight corset and the shape of her hips. Strong, curvy yet begging for the taste of the cane.
“Walk to the cross on the wall behind the throne.” There was a cross cemented into the floor. It was made of pine and coated with oil. She walked to it and stood facing it.
“Turn around slut,” He commanded. Then He drug a small wooden stool to her feet. “Stand up on this and put your arms on the cross bars slut. She flung her arms away from her body after ascending the stool. The Prince grabbed a chair and stood and used several loops of rough rope to tie her arm from her wrist to the elbow joint. Then he did the same with the other arm. He then got off the chair, bent before her, grabbed her ankle and forced her leg to bend at the knee. He pushed her leg upward until it was knee to tit and tit was loosing. Then He used rope to tie her foot in that exact folded position. It was already hard enough for the girl to breath with the damn corset. This new twist of fate had her barely able to breath at all. The Prince soon head her other leg bent and bound in the same manner. She could not move. She could not escape. She could hardly breath. She was frightened half out of her wits.
“I have selected you to become My new cane slut little one. I will begin with one of My favorites,” the Prince hissed as he selected a long thin flexible bamboo cane. With a twist and flick of His wrist, the Prince sliced the skin of Raven Hairs left thigh. The blood was already running down her leg before she even knew she was cut. Her body jerked to the right and then, “Whap!” The can landed on her right ass cheek. It didn’t break the skin, but caused a long thin red streak to rise to the surface of the slaves ass.
With each landing of the cane, Raven Hair’s body responded accordingly. She’d stand on tip toes trying to escape. She tugged desperately at the ropes which so tightly held her arms. She wiggled her feet and ankles but found no spare room between her skin and the scratchy ropes.
She wanted to yell. A deep belly, “get her done” holler from sheer pain, but she couldn’t. The way her knees were so tightly drawn and tied to her chest, there was no room for her lungs to accept that much air. So with each bite of His cane, Raven Hair hung and took it. Sucking in her teeth, her eyes glaring into those of the punishing Prince.
He too saw her eyes, as He lifted and let fly the cane to land again and again on the slaves body. He didn’t neglect her arms. Even the ropes could not fully absorb the slap of the cane. He bade her to open her hands. She complied and the cane landed in the center of her right palm. The fingers flew shut in defense, and the back of that hand received and even swifter and harsher blow. The fingers flew open on both hands and the can found the palm of the left. The fingers remained open. It was her defiance, her will to survive it all that was taking over now. This is what the Prince of Spruce was seeing in the child begin to flicker as the last piece of wood on a fire.
This is what He’d searched for. A wench with spirit and desire. Neither of them to be broken, merely nourished.
After more than fifty strikes with the cane, the girl’s body was well bruised and cut up to say the least. However the Prince had just begun His sadistic exploration of the wench. He grabbed a sharp dagger and sliced open her corset. When her lovely yet well bruised tits lowered His eyes fastened on them.
Raven Hair sucked in as much air as she possibly could as His eyes devoured her nude beaten body. She hardly noticed Him approaching her except the sunlight from a window hit the flat of the blade in His hand. Her eyes flew open wide as did her mouth, yet she said not a word. Standing beside her, He sliced a three inch gash from her shoulder downward. The crimson blood followed the edge of the blade, then flowed into the ropes and dripped off her arm.
“AAAAAAAAAAAggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiieeeeeee” she shrieked as she watch the sadistic Prince drag the dagger down her arm.
An open fingered back hand across her mouth shut her up immediately silenced her. She spat blood from a bit tongue and split lip. Next the Prince lifted her right breast and drug the edge of the blade around the bottom of it where it meets the chest. The cut was so smooth, again the slut felt no pain, only yet another warm moist sensation slowly running down her taught belly. Then the Prince lifted her breast, ran His fingers through the blood and smeared it on the girls cheeks and lips. It hit her then. He’s slashed her breast.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…please, ,,,,,,,,,,,,, P L E A S E Sire, no more I beg of you please Sire.”
This time the Prince knelt and allowed the dagger to dance the length of the sluts right leg. He began just below the knee and stopped mid calf. It was more of a zig zag movement than a straight cut. With each twist of the point of the blade a new sound was created by the slut. It was simply music to His ears. This is why He seldom gagged a wench during a torture session. He loved to hear the sluts squeal like the little useless pigs they are.
Allowing the slut to hang there bleeding and tortured, the Prince of Spruce left her there. He strolled out onto the balcony and sat in His throne to observe court over the punishment of disobedient slaves in the warriors courtyard below.
Raven Hair hung, bleed, and thankfully passed out.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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