emeraldgryphon
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Joined: 6/29/2007
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Jared moved silently into the darkened playroom, just off the left hand turn in the basement, and slowly brought up the lights. Wall sconces illuminated the room, dim flickering bulbs that gave the illusion of torches, casting jumping shadows around the room. This was his wife Cassandra's stomping grounds for the most part, used to train new slaves until they were discreetly shipped off to their new owners. She had been his childhood sweetheart, but they had moved away when she was ten and he had lost contact for fifteen years. But five years ago she had returned, and within two years they had married.
She was an engineer, of the builder class, and he was a healer, of the class of physicians, but her family's connections within the Slaver's Guild and her own Dominant tendencies had established her as a profitable trainer for the Guild several years ago. They had purchased this rambling villa outside the city, and had spent the last three years renovating it to their specific needs. Cassandra was currently out of the house, down in the city, and he had came down to the maze-like basement to have a look at the new installations.
Glancing around the room he made out a raised dais, about three inches tall and about four feet in diameter, made out of metal and painted red - a circle of enslavement, he realized with a gasp. He had seen such a circle used once, years ago, when a caught thief was sentenced to slavery and the sentence was carried out in the main city square. The circle then had simply been a cut circle of cloth, and the fact that Cassandra had made hers as a dais was a little confusing. Moving deeper into the room he saw a holding chain quite near to the enslavement circle, and it led straight to a branding rack. Jared stopped, shuddering suddenly as he looked upon it. The rack was fitted with several straps and belts, all adjustable up and down the rack in short channels so as to enable a custom fit for anyone. The left thigh area was an adjustable vise, able to hold a slave absolutely immobile for the kiss of the iron. Near at hand was the heated bowl that held the irons, and Jared flipped up the lid and pulled an iron out of the firerock gravel it was embedded in, holding it up to look at it.
The brand glowed, almost white, and Jared slowly returned it to the bowl, fascinated by it. He stepped over to the rack, leaning against it, his breath coming fast and ragged as he felt the straps brushing against his thighs, imagining what it would be like to be held helplessly on the rack waiting for the brand. Jared's cock grew hard as the image of himself held on the rack swam in front of him, and he actually started connecting the straps before he moaned, turned away from the rack, and continued his exploration, stepping over to the whipping horse.
About three feet tall and about fifteen feet long, it too was height adjustable, padded across the top beam with restraint points on all corners of the frame, and easily strong enough to hold five slaves side by side. Jared moaned gently as his gaze traveled over to the assortment of whips, paddles, crops, canes, and other tools of punishment hanging on the nearby support column, ready to be used on the ass of whatever slave or slaves were unlucky enough to be chained over the horse. Reaching out he took down a wooden paddle, drilled through in a geometric pattern with one inch diameter holes. Smacking it into his hand he moaned in pain and looked down to see a reddened area across his palm with pale circles. How does that feel on your ass? he mused, wondering how many slaves Cassandra had used it on.
Glancing guiltily around, he bent over the horse and hiked up his summer kilt, reaching behind him with the paddle in his other hand. Crack! Jared jumped forward a little as the blow landed, pain spreading through his buttocks. He could not believe how painful it was, even with a blow that was not forceful or powered with leverage. Crack! Again Jared let the paddle fall, gasping as he continued to administer the paddle to his flesh, moving all over his rear until he could take no more and stopped, tears running down his cheeks. He realized that now the paddle had tasted his flesh the same as it had tasted countless slaves, and his cock grew harder at that thought. Moaning, he dropped his kilt and bent back over the horse, completely naked. Every blow sent him forward into the horse as he cried out in real pain. His ass was so sore and sensitive now, and Jared knew that the slaves Cassandra trained sometimes weren't able to sit down for hours. Jared craved that, and wondered how long it would take before his ass was that sore. Finally he could take no more, and straightened up, gasping in pain.
Replacing the paddle, he let his gaze sweep the rest of the room, taking in the bondage cross, the table rack, the stocks, two cages, the hanging chains, and the wall racks where waited manacles, chains, collars, chastity devices, cock rings, gags, hoods, harnesses, butt plugs, dildos, and several large enema bags hanging near the sink. Jared remembered a female slave Cassandra had trained, and how one night the girl had been clumsy at dinner, spilling a little food. Cassandra had waited until after dinner and then told the girl to "go fill the blue one three-quarters full". The girl had moaned in terror, but her fear of what would happen if she disobeyed was greater. Cassandra's voice was cold steel, and brooked no disobedience. Jared remembered that his own knees had went weak that night, and if she had then addressed the same command to him.....moaning in terror himself at what he was doing, Jared walked naked over to the sink and turned on the hot water, taking down the blue bag and filling it exactly three-quarters full, imagining that he had been commanded to do so by Cassandra. Using the inline hand pump he primed the hose, pushing out all the air. The nozzle was inflatable, and Jared moaned as he worked the nozzle pump, watching it enlarge. If that was inside him, he wouldn't be able to push it out he knew, and like the errant slave he would be forced to take all the water in the bag.
If Cassandra walked in right now and saw him here like this..... He hung the bag from one of the overhead chains dangling over the table rack and stepped back, breathing heavily. It swung there, inviting him to insert the nozzle and start the flow. He was aroused, more so than he could ever remember being, and his cock was hard and straight as he bent over the table rack, presenting his ass to the bag and reaching forward to grab the handrests. He could feel the nozzle brushing his ass, and he slowly inserted it and inflated it until it could not be forced out. Jared lay there long minutes, shaking in terror, before he slid his ankles forward into the self-locking stocks and locked his left wrist down. He was just one step away, he knew, from being totally helpless until he was found by Cassandra and enslaved. Carefully he unlocked his limbs and deflated the nozzle, cleaning it at the sink before returning it and the still-full bag to the overhead chain.
Turning back around he found himself facing the circle of enslavement again. This time, fascinated by it, he moved closer, stepping up onto it with one foot. The surface was smooth and cool, and he moved totally up on to it, standing in the center. He had the oddest sensation for a second, like when you stepped onto a scale, and then suddenly bars dropped out of the ceiling over the circle, dropping too fast for him to dive under them. Looking down he saw the surface of the circle indent around its edge with circular depressions that the bars slid into. Grabbing wildly at the bars he tried to shake them loose, or pull them back up when suddenly his hands were hit by a stinging jolt that caused his arms to tingle. Gasping, Jared backed away into the exact center of the dais as he realized the bars were electrified. Jared jumped suddenly, whipping around as his wife's voice suddenly echoed in the room, "Greetings, slave.", but he could not see her anywhere, and when she spoke again, he knew it was a voice recording. "My sensors can detect no clothing, only bare skin, so you have entered the circle naked. What is your name?" Jared was in shock and admiration at Cassandra's technical savvy, and was wondering how she built this when his feet were the recipient of a second jolt that made him hop up and cry out in pain. "I'll not ask again - what is your name? If you don't answer the next one will take you off your feet. Three, .... two...." "Jared!!" he cried out, almost jumping in place in fear of the shock. "Well, I have news for you - your name was Jared - now you are a nameless slave. From this point on you are to be silent, speaking only if I speak to you. Disobedience will be met with punishment. Now kneel, knees wide - and be warned the sensors will know if you are obeying. Kneel!!"
He moaned in denial, in absolute refusal to believe what was happening to him, and the shock hit the bottom of his feet with a punishing jolt, causing him to jump into the air and land awkwardly, trying not to hit the bars. He quickly dropped to his knees, spreading them wide, and trying not to cry out in pain from his sore ass. Suddenly he heard the sound of a door opening somewhere outside of the room, and realized it must be Cassandra returning. Not thinking he jumped to his feet and tried again to lift the bars but almost immediately he was thrown off of his feet by the dual shocks of the bars and the floor. He could now hear the sound of heels clicking down the hall outside, coming toward him, and the clink of chains. The recording spoke again. "Hands behind your head, and interlace your fingers. If you drop them you will be punished." As the heels came down the last few feet outside he quickly did as he was instructed, and turned with an almost inaudible moan of terror as Cassandra entered the chamber pulling a coffle chain of three slaves behind her, two female and one male. She stopped still in amazement as she took in the scene.
"What are you doing!!?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide in shock at what she was seeing, but the new slave just shook his head, eyes full of fear, and not breaking position. Cassandra's recorded voice spoke again, "There is an engraving on the wall in front of you - read it out loud, slowly, and carefully." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cassandra lock the chain of slaves to a ring in the wall and sit down, watching him intently. He moaned silently at her "Please", but she pointed her finger at the engraving and said, "Read. And keep those knees wide." Tears rolled down his cheeks as he began to read, "I hereby submit myself fully and completely to Mistress Cassandra, acknowledging that I am forthwith only her slave." As he spoke the words he saw Cassandra smiling wickedly, starting to rub her crotch as he rendered himself slave. He maintained his position, but shuddered violently when she noticed the blue bag hanging from the chain, and her smile got even bigger. She rose from her seat and went over to the bag, inspecting it. "Still very warm, and exactly three-quarters full. You remembered how I like them."
Again the voice spoke. "Hands behind your back slave, and lean back ." He did so only to feel manacles go around his wrists and lock on, and then a collar encircled his neck and closed with a click. Moaning now, he realized some type of device had came up out of the dais behind him with the items now securely locked on his body. Cassandra got up and came close as the bars slowly retracted into the ceiling. Reaching out she grabbed his collar and pulled him off the dais onto his knees. He looked up into her face, unsure, trying to read her intentions. "I asked you a question slave - what are, or were, you doing?." As she spoke she moved around him, noticing his red bottom. The new slave dropped his eyes. " I was just exploring and came down to see what new things you had installed. I didn't know what the dais was capable of." "Oh really? And how did your ass get so red? The dais doesn't do that." His cheeks burning, the male said, "I did it - I ... paddled myself ... to see what it felt like."
Cassandra suddenly pulled him up to his feet and marched him over to the horse, bending him over it as he gasped in shock and fright, and locking his ankles to the frame, and picking up the paddle he had used earlier. "From now on - Crack!! - you will address me as Mistress at all times - Crack!! - you will always drop to your knees when I enter the room - Crack!! - you will exist to serve and pleasure me - Crack!! - and your orgasms are totally under my control - Crack!! - do you understand, slave??" "Yes, Mistress!!!" he cried out, sobbing from the intense paddle blows. Every hit was ten times as hard as he had been able to paddle himself, and as more tears coursed down his cheeks he saw her attaching each new slave to the holding chain leading to the branding rack before turning back to him. This time she attached short chains to each manacle before disconnecting them from each other and pulling him forward over the horse. "Mmmmm ..... the sight of your ass over my horse is getting me very aroused. It's already quite red - but it will be redder." He pulled frantically at the chains, but he was well and truly held, helpless.
Suddenly the sting of a leather whip cut across his ass, and this time he cried out in real pain and submission, unable to get away as she began his first whipping. By the tenth blow he was squirming wildly on the horse, twisting this way and that, trying to get away from the stinging blows and crying out in pain as each one fell. This whip had about twelve tails, and Cassandra was taking her time with him, warming him up, spreading the rosy glow all over his ass and over his back. She then switched to a crop, and began to tattoo out a drumbeat over his ass, eliciting screams with every strike. Suddenly he felt it stop, and hung weakly in his chains, glad for the respite, when he screamed in pain, jerking up on the horse as far as he could go as she dug her nails into his ass. "Please!!! Please, Mistress!! Please, enough, please!!" She picked up the wooden paddle again, and began to crack it against his ass, slowly, letting him feel and anticipate each blow.
"I'll give you a choice slave. Either I continue to beat your ass with the paddle, one hundred blows, or I give you what's hanging up there in the blue bag. So which is it? the paddle or the bag?" as the paddle cracked into his ass six more times he screamed out, "The bag Mistress!! the bag!!" Laughing, Cassandra gave him five more paddle blows, and then stepped over to take down the bag and rehang it behind him. He watched the bag approach with dread and terror, feeling his ass open and vulnerable for the insertion of the nozzle. Gasping for air, the new slave felt his ass lubricated before she slowly forced the nozzle inside him and inflated it. Sensing that the water was about to flow he began to beg and plead, "Please let me go please let me go I'll never come down here again please please please..." but his pleas were cut short as he felt the first full pump of the hose filling his bowels with warm water. She waited about five seconds between pumps, and slowly pumped him full, waiting as he cramped and massaging his abdomen to move the water deeper. Ten minutes later the bag was empty and he was moaning in distress and pain, needing to expel, but she had pumped the nozzle up, completely sealing his ass. "Just relax, slave. You're going to hold that in for a little while."
She moved away, and he heard the first slave, one of the females, being placed on the branding rack. "Hmmm. Four slaves to brand tonight. How nice - I was only planning on three." He sweated and cramped several times as the water inside him gurgled and flowed while the minutes crawled by. One by one the three slaves were locked to the rack and branded, their screams filling the chamber as the iron kissed their thighs. Finally she returned to him and chained him in such a way as to allow him to squat under the horse with his arms chained across the top. She slid a bucket under his ass, deinflated the nozzle, and slowly slid it out, letting him expel. Long minutes later, he finally purged the last of the enema, and she sluiced warm water over his ass as she cleaned him off with a cool cloth. Roughly she then chained his manacles to his collar and threw him against the branding rack, swinging the restraining belt pillory closed and keeping him from moving away. Moving quickly, with long practice, she completely immobilized him and tightened the thigh vise. Languidly then, she reached out and grasped his cock, stroking it gently up and down with easy familiarity as it hardened again. She brought him right to the edge with her hands and mouth, and then pulled out the iron and slid it home in the vise channel. The male slave screamed, his cries as loud as the three before him as the iron hissed and sank in his flesh, marking him as a slave permanently. She had continued stroking him as she branded him, and, returning the iron to the firebowl, she renewed her assault until he came, screaming out still in pain and now pleasure, intertwined.
He barely registered that she had moved away again, as he had nearly passed out, but then she was back, and her hands were on his cock again. Before he could get hard, however, she had slid him completely into a steel chastity belt, and had locked it behind his back. Once again he was chained over the horse, but this time the others were chained beside him, alternating male and female, and each one a prisoner of a chastity belt. This time he felt his ass warmed up quickly, as she worked her way up and down the horse, and while she used the paddle, whip and crop on the others, he screamed in pure agony when the first liquid fire line of a cane seared across his flesh. Soon she was using the cane on all four, and their screams alternated with each strike.
The new slave hung limply in the chains, sobbing unashamedly, his tears dropping to the floor below as she unchained him and helped him over to a soft cot at the side of the room. He felt her lock a holding chain to his collar from the wall, and then she soothed lotion across his ass and back as he winced and jumped at the coolness on his burning flesh. "There, there. That was your first whipping to teach you your place and to never disobey me. Now that you know what my punishment is like, do you think you will ever disobey me, slave?" "No, Mistress - I'll never do anything to merit that if I can help it." She dried his tears and continued soothing him until he fell asleep. When he awoke the others were similiarly chained on cots, also asleep, but his Mistress was gently urging him to lay on his back, and when he gingerly rolled over she placed a chairlike stool over his cot so that it was directly over his face, less than an inch away. She chained his hands to the front legs and swung down two wooden panels to either side of his head like a clamp. The front was cut out in a V, and as she sat down she pulled up her skirt to expose her naked sex, moist and warm. Moving slightly forward she was now riding his face, with his mouth directly against her nether lips. "Please me, slave - I'm going to come all over your face."
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