Tag Archives: slave

Slave

{This post is of an adult nature – NOT for children}

Kneel. Don’t question with your eyes! Do what I say immediately. I’ll not have a fool for a slave. Others beg for the privilege you’re experiencing. Something about that statement amuses you? Clearly you have no idea what it means to submit. Ah – No! There will be no safe words today; you don’t get to call Uncle on me that quickly. I’ve not had the chance to exploit your fear… not yet. I know, you came here with the misunderstanding that there would be rules – there are, just not yours! You thought your two hundred dollars was buying you an hour of your own pleasure; but you should have read the fine print. This hour is all mine to do with as I see fit. That makes you nervous? Don’t try to mask your eyes, you can’t hide from me, and no one is coming to save you, dumpling.

She casually strolls to the table  and picks up the riding crop.

Good. Now I see genuine fear in those gleaming blue orbs of yours. What shall we do first? What was that? Did you say something? You’re mumbling, I don’t like mumbling! Speak up!

The resounding crack of the crop is heard.

Did that hurt? I’m sorry, that was completely unexpected – by you. Are you trying to tell me something? Are you already whimpering about my striking you? Is that a yes or a no?

The echo of the crack once again rebounds across the chamber.

Now, have we learned our lesson? A nod will do. Good, I expected as much. Let’s take a look at your list of fantasies and pick one I’d like to exploit, shall we? Yes, I think we shall.

Her arm raises, he flinches, his mouth slams shuts with a snap.

Don’t make me strike you out of turn again, it makes me feel cheated. You don’t want that, do you? No, I didn’t think so. See, you’re learning already, you knew enough to nod and not speak.

Smiling sweetly, she strikes. This crack the loudest yet.

I do so like to reward good behavior, now what does it say here about you not liking C&B torture…

***

As the session ends, she removes the bit gag from his mouth and helps him to his feet.

“Oh, Tommy! You added in an extra hundred. That’s so sweet of you!”

Working his jaw to loosen the muscles, he replies “I’ve gotta keep my special girl happy. Same time next week?”

“I’ll pencil you in!” she beams with a bright smile and, stretching up onto her tippy-toes gently kisses his cheek as he is about to leave the room.

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}
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Hard

I sit here sipping from my glass, a fine glass at that; delicate in nature, with spinning hues of barest midnight blue drawn through its perfect surface, creating an undulating wave of confused beauty. Beauty; I look at the cavern around me, the carved seat I rest upon, my enclave, my domain, my perfect world. Things of beauty surround me, but only at my beck and call. True, some have come crawling, but I find I’ve no use for such sniveling. They – are no longer amongst us. Is there not a creature worthy of my attentiveness? Ordering one of the grovlings to fetch me a new pet, I wait with little patience.

Finally, she is brought before me. “Kneel.” There is no question she will do as instructed, they all do. I toss a collar onto the floor, it is attached to a leash fastened to the arm of my perch. “Put it on.” She begins to speak.

“I do not recall telling you to open your lips. Put it on, and do so with your mouth shut!” She scrambles to do as ordered, but the idiot grovling has yet to release her from the crude looped choker used to drag her here. A glance at the grovling and he realizes his folly. He apologizes profusely, trying to loosen the choker as she desperately tries to fasten the collar around her bleeding neck with shaking hands. I let him babble, his stupidity is quite amusing, then I bore of hearing it. Standing, I descend the two steps that separate myself from the others. She shivers uncontrollably as I pass by. He drops to a knee while still begging forgiveness for his lack of foresight. Foolish, that. The assumption that he’s been given the right to foreshadow my thoughts or wishes, a mistake I would not have made had I been in his position. Crouching in front of him, my wing tips curling against the stone floor, I order him to lift his chin. As he does so, he pisses himself. Glancing down to the puddle growing beneath him, I gently tap the edge of the glass against the floor. It fractures magnificently.

“Do you recall when this glass was made for me, grovling?” Desperately, he tries to hold my eye, but cannot. His own orbs flick quickly to the glass, I smile. He opens his mouth to respond and I shush him with a gentle, garnet adorned finger upon his lips. “My question did not require an answer, or did your foresight fail you yet again?” Trembling with indecision, he is unsure if a response is expected. I’m of the opinion it is not, but I’ll allow his inner torment to continue a bit longer. The jingling to my right finally stops; she has managed to fasten the collar around her neck. I hear a slight tinkling, the metal chain leading from the collar back to the leashed handle affixed to my seat; she is frightened, but doing admirably well – so far.

Waiting is the sweetest torture, one my many eons in this festering shit hole has taught me well how to exploit. The grovling on the other hand, is finding the wait – arduous. I can sense his overwhelming desire to speak; I can see the thoughts flick through his feeble little mind. Dragging the now jagged edge of the glass through his own urine, I provoke him. “It must be so difficult kneeling before me, wanting to speak your mind, but knowing you probably should not. I almost feel compassion for you, honestly, I almost do. Was being obedient and keeping your mouth shut so very hard that you simply found yourself incapable of the task?” His lips part, bait taken. If I were a sport fisherman, this is the point at which I would yank the line, one quick hard pull to set my hook. In what is a blink in his world, I ram the piss covered broken glass through his eye socket clean into his brain cavity. The ickor that oozes into the glass is proof enough that his brief squeal will be his final utterance.

I turn to the captive beside me, realizing that the grovling’s piss has spread to her knees. Retrieving the handle of the leash, I gently guide her to the hot spring welling in the far corner of the cavern. “Come, let’s clean you, then we shall figure out what purpose you might serve.”

(…more on this piece as other letters crop up…)

© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.


I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}

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