Author's Note: After 'Dreams of Mirkada' I was going to leave Sally in peace to have her baby rather than subjecting her to more humiliation and stringent bondage for our pleasure but I've had several emails asking for another Mirkada story and I couldn't resist putting her through just a little more.

I couldn't resist the title either.

For those who've read about Sally's journey into ever increasing bondage and submission beginning with 'When in Rome...', and becoming increasingly intense through 'Return to Mirkada' and 'Dreams of Mirkada', this story sees her face up to the fulfilment of her desires. For those who haven't read the previous stories, Professor Sally Frost is an academic and historian now living in Mirkada; a city where women must be subjected to bondage when they leave their houses and those who are not citizens must also be leashed.


Chapter 1: Sally

Mark took me to Astrid's before he left for Cambridge, leading me through the streets of Mirkada, suitably leashed, of course, in one of my new vilisqaz. It was one of three he had bought for me shortly after Silaxis inauguration when we had confirmed that we were staying in Mirkada. This one was made of wet-look black patent leather and had more of the feel of a 'bedroom' vilisqaz than one that is normally worn in the street. As is typical with these garments or, as many would see them, 'bondage suits', my arms were sheathed behind my back, elbows as alway now touching, this sleeve was long, coming up almost to my armpits in the centre and stretching tightly up over my shoulders at the sides where it laced to a kind of tight leather vest that resembled a crop top stretched across my chest rather than being held in place by straps around my shoulders; needless to say the 'crop top' had cut-aways for my breasts which were thrust through it, creamy white and huge against the shiny blackness of the leather.

Unlike most vilisqaz that incorporate some sort of girdle or corset this one left my belly completely bare other than two straps that ran down from rings sewn into the vest under my breasts; these straps attached to the tops of shiny black thigh boots looking like rather extreme suspenders. The boots were also, of course, in sleek black leather that, between my legs, came almost to my labia and at the sides came up over my hips to points where the straps from the vest were attached. When I'd first tried it on, Mark had joked that the leather suspenders could be fastened to my nipple piercings; I'd frowned although I'd rather liked the idea and I wished he'd tried it; the thought of every step pulling on my rapidly enlarging and constantly sensitive nipples produced tingles of pleasure in all the right places. Who'd have thought, at the age of forty three I'd be hornier than I'd felt as a teenager; and who'd have thought I'd be pregnant.

Life does have a way of throwing up surprises.

As well as the two straps holding up my boots, a third strap ran down from the back of my chest to anchor my butt plug.

The lack of girdle made the outfit appear somewhat slutty by Mirkadan standards; aristocratic Mirkadan women seem happy to go about with their tits on display and thier sexes bare but they do like to cover their bellies.

Like many vilisqaz worn by aristocratic Mirkaden women this one had no crotch strap. I was 'visciute' which translated roughly as 'pierced'; rings through my clit and labia that held my 'dress plug' securely inside my vagina. Since the inauguration, I'd worn nothing but the new weighted 'plug' (by which I mean, of course, 'dildo') that moved deliciously inside me as I moved. It was a constant reminder, as if I needed one, of my rampant and increasingly insatiable libido and, as walking on the punishing boots forced to strut on my toes there was no alternative but the suffer its constant movement that was designed to keep the wearer in a perpetual state of sexual arousal.

The butt plug didn't help; I couldn't believe how much of an anal slut I'd become to the extent that I felt undressed without something inside me (both front and back); my rear plug might be loosely attached by the strap at the back of my vilisqaz but mostly it was held in place by a flange that expanded and locked just inside my sphincter.

I could understand the logic of Mirkadan women wearing the vilisqaz; for aristocratic ladies, being kept like this emphasised their high station, that others did everything for them, I could also understand that such an idle woman might also enjoy the distraction of a sex toy inside her or perhaps, as others claimed, that it might prevent them being tempted by other men; however, I wondered at the need for a rectal plug; were husbands worried that their women, restrained and helpless might soil themselves in the street or be so desperate to take a lover that they would submit to anal sex in order to do so ?

Then again, as Mark had dressed me that morning, binding and strapping me into the garment, bending me forward to plug my rear hole, I was left flushed and aroused and as he'd locked the butt plug inside me, exerting another layer of control over my helpless and desperately submissive body I had dropped to my knees, throwing myself back with my knees spread and begged him to fuck me one last time before leaving me with Astrid. Naturally, he had obliged and we had fucked right there in hallway with me stretched back on the floor and him making one final use of his submissive sex toy before committing me to three months of intense 'training' at the hands of the beautiful Swedish dominatrix.

After he'd throughly ploughed me he'd pushed the weighted vaginal plug into my gaping sex and locked it in place using my piercings. Then I'd knelt up to allow him to bridle me ready for the short walk to Astrid's. Before taking me out of the door, he'd attached my clit leash and then lead me into the street.

I might have adopted Mirkada as my home but I still wasn't a citizen; I needed to be leashed when out in the street; after all, I wouldn't want to be arrested for improper behaviour and punished. (Actually, I did, desperately but I knew my place; I'd just been appointed Professor of Classical Civilisation at Mirkada's university and I didn't want to bring the place into disrepute before starting my first term).

I had to settle for submissive pleasure of being lead through the streets bound, gagged and blindfolded (not to mention plugged and pierced) with my tits and pussy on show and my husband's cum still wet on my thighs and, no doubt, drying on my shiny new boots.

Three months he would be away, winding up our affairs in Cambridge while I was handed to the care of a relative stranger to be 'trained'. I wasn't sure I needed training but the thought of spending three months as Astrid's helpless lesbian sex toy was an opportunity not to be missed and fulfilled the same desires as being lead through the streets of this wonderful city semi-naked and in bondage on a daily basis while being tormented by the vaginal plug squirming endlessly inside me. The throb of my gently constricted and, apparently, ever enlarging breasts simply added to my lust.

I liked to blame the pregnancy; it had probably started the sexual dreams but I really hadn't felt like this during my other pregnancies; perhaps it was an age thing or perhaps it was the 'spirit' of the city; not that I believed such gobbledegook but the dreams where I'd taken on the persona of Hourishini had been uncannily real and, even if it had been my subconscious conjuring up all those delicious torments at the hands of Queen Jazirina, the city's population seemed for some reason to think I was the spirit of the ancient queen's 'little foreign whore' reborn. I wondered if that made Taiarche the equivalent of Queen Jazirina; or perhaps it was Astrid.

Astrid was the Swedish consul and, apparently, a dominatrix of international renown and now, notably, my first lesbian lover. Despite my love for Mark, I was pleased that he was returning to the UK for a few months, giving me an opportunity to fulfill my carnal and deeply submissive needs with this woman before my pregnancy advanced to the stage where my belly swelled and I could no longer tolerate the tight bondage and sexual torments I constantly craved.

Apparently, he was entirely happy with leaving his pregnant wife with this predatory dominatrix so she could use me in any way she saw fit.

He can be such a sweetie.

In Mirkadan parlance this was 'resqinue' or 'the gift' an old tradition of three months servitude, 'one hundred days and five hundred lashes'. It was historically used as payment for an unfilled debt or recompense for an act that had injured the other party; a daughter or sometimes a wife (it was alway the woman !) being handed over for a period of servitude and punishment. Sometimes, 'the gift' was given for favours rendered by a noble; offering the services of said daughter or, more commonly, the daughter of a lesser vassal or, sometimes, a handmaiden. Queen Jazirina had made the tradition popular by frequently bestowing the pleasures of Hourishini on others. I know this, not only from my 'oh-so-real' dreams but because I have made a study of Mirkadan history which confirmed them to be true as far as I was able to tell.

The term was, I understood sometimes applied to the taming of a 'wayward daughter' where the girl in question was sent to a relative to be 'resqinue'; 'shrewish' wives were sometimes treated in a similar way.

As far as I knew, it wasn't a custom practiced in Mirkada today but then this city continued to surprise me.

Whatever, the reason, the resqinue involved three months as a slave with the expectation of daily whippings and, I guessed, in many cases fairly regular rape and abuse.

The thought thrilled me.

It had to be the hormones...yes, over the last few years I'd become a bondage slut, increasingly submissive and masochistic but not to this extent. I'd been pregnant twice before and nothing like this had ever happened to me. In the last couple of months, I'd gone from respectable academic who enjoyed a bit (alright, a lot) of kinky games to an insatiable and, apparently, bisexual slut who's waking hours were filled with carnal lust, an overwhelming desire to be kept in constant bondage and an intense yearning for humiliation and pain.

At least the dreams seemed to have stopped.

A touch on my belly brought me to a halt.

We had, I guessed, arrived and as we stood waiting to be admitted to Astrid's house, the full realisation of what was about to happen to me finally caught up with me. Despite the hot Mirkadan sun beating down on my naked skin I felt cold and, as the door opened and I was lead into the coolness of the house, I actually shivered.

Mark hugged me, pulling me to him, the Mirkadan robes he'd taken to wearing rough against my belly and breasts. Suddenly, I didn't want him to go and I pressed myself urgently against him.

Then I heard the click of Astrid's heels on the stone floor and warmth returned to my body.

I disengaged myself from my husband of over twenty years, suddenly, selfishly wanting him to go so I could be alone with my new mistress.

'Thank you, Mark.' Astrid's voice made me shudder again but in a completely different way and I felt the movement of my clit leash, the transfer of ownership from Master to my new Mistress.

'Come along, Whore !'

I tensed in response to the name she had just called me but the jerk on my clit leash was firm and I was now a helpless and obedient slave. I followed my new mistress vaguely aware of the door behind me closing.

She lead me into the back of the house guiding me by my clit ring then I felt another touch on my belly.

'Kneel.'

I dropped to my knees.

'Remove her bridle.'

Hands began to undo the straps of my bridle then lifted the leather pads away from my eyes before starting to ease the huge plug out of my mouth. Taiarche had warned me against plug gags when I'd first started wearing the vilisqaz. 'They are not nice.' She'd said but I'd recently discovered she wore them for Silaxis, particularly when she dressed for him at home; they were part of her bedroom vilisqaz. When Mark had bought this latest vilisqaz; I'd tried several plug gags in the shop, on my knees, stretching my mouth wide to allow Mark to force them inside; increasingly huge phalluses stretching my jaw wider and filling my mouth until I could barely suppress my gag reflex.

I'd then bought the next size up and for the next week, spent an hour a day, kneeling at home, concentrating on trying not to vomit until I was able to tolerate it for short periods at least.

This wasn't all that I had become able to endure; there was no doubt that being pregnant was making me more flexible; I could get into positions now that I'd not managed since my short but relatively successful ballet career; almost dislocating my jaw to take a giant phallus was just part of this. I could stand pain better too, as if my pain threshold had gone up several notches; everywhere that is, except my breasts which, as they swelled, almost daily as far as I could tell, become progressively more tender.

As the bridle came away, I blinked in the bright light of the room, seeing Astrid...Mistress Astrid standing before me; beautiful, dominant, her body starkly lit by the harsh light from the window. She was wearing the studded leather vilisqaz she'd donned after our first 'session' together when, though restrained herself, she'd utterly dominated me leaving me in thrall to her obvious charms, making me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.

My resqinue wasn't just a traditional Mirkardan thing, it had a modern twist too: an arrangement between dom and sub, Mistress and Slave.

Astrid was blonde and athletic, a little older than me; a woman who radiated confidence and control even when she was in bondage; the only woman I had seen overcome her was Taiarche.

Somehow between them Astrid and Taiarche left me feeling utterly inadequate; in their presence the most appropriate place I felt I should be was on my knees at their feet; and to think, I had once been Ciceron Professor of history at Cambridge !

Astrid, 'Mistress' (I shuddered again at the thought), held a whip, not a crop but a proper coiled bull whip and I realised that this might be used to deliver the five hundred lashes. I was, to all intents and purposes, alone in a strange city with this woman I had known for barely a month, utterly at her mercy. Her black leather of the vilisqaz with its thigh boots and studded harness seemed to augment her power or perhaps it just fed my submissive fantasies just as it had done that day when, after my first (consummated) lesbian sexual encounter, I'd knelt in disarray with her juices smeared across my face guiltily awaiting the return of my husband.

He'd allowed that intimacy, laughing when I'd confessed it to him before tying me up and spanking me. We've been married over twenty years, and we know each other well; he knows what I need and he was allowing me to indulge in my fantasies. He knew I didn't love him any less because I craved the dominance this woman could give me.

Mark was the perfect husband, he just wasn't quite dominant enough.

I knew Mistress Astrid would be brutal with me, knew she would take me to my limits and beyond. One hundred days and five hundred lashes; I would spend the time in almost constant bondage, endure punishments far beyond any of my intensest dreams; I would be her slave; she had already called me her 'whore'.

I knelt before her as she watched Inge, her maid, pull the gag from my mouth, it's bulk forcing the little Swedish girl to hold my jaw to free it.

'Your husband really is a very lucky man.' My new mistress told me as the girl held up the huge gag.

I worked my jaw and ran my tongue around my lips.

'I like to think so, Mistress.' I looked at her, drinking in her dominance wishing she would stop talking about Mark.

I wanted to be owned by her, to grovel at her feet, worship her.

'Silence, Slave !' Her voice was suddenly harsh, dominant, a stern expression coming into her blue eyes, her full, dusky pink lips drawing into a hard line.

'I'm sorry, Mistress.' I fumbled for the words, colour rising to my cheeks; my breasts reddening too as I cast my eyes down.

Then something caught my eye.

She had a Mirkardan rape rack.

I'd seen them in the basement of the museum, a legacy of Mirkarda's past; for use with captured women, of course, not citizens; at least that was the modern fable. I was a historian, I'd looked into the murky past and I knew these were tools of oppression. I'd also fantasised about being strapped to one.

In its simple form the rape rack consists of two supports and a plank between them although, of course the ones in the palace and, indeed Astrid's replica, were far more ornate. I guessed this was a modern reproduction but, like the ones in the palace, this had elaborately curved, thick, heavy wooden stands at each end that I would describe as omega shaped or, rather, two omega's, one upsidedown on the other; the wood was about six inches thick and the bases of the stands wide and heavy to ensure they did not move when the victim strapped to the rack began to struggle; the stands were linked by a heavy wooden beam. The plank hung from thick chains between the arms of the stands at a little below waist height about a foot above the horizontal beam. A girl can be strapped to these in a variety of ingenious ways although, the simplest is on her back, lying on the plank, with her legs spread, her ankles strapped or chained to the upper arms of the stand her wrists bound to the beam or, perhaps to the other stand. The plank is usually about two feet long so a girl's bottom hangs over one end of the plank and her head the other; it is a very functional way to restrain a woman.

Astrid saw me looking and I saw her walk towards it.

'Beautiful, isn't it.' She stroked the polished wood with her hand.

'Yes, Mistress.' My voice trembled slightly.

'Perhaps if you are a good girl...' She smiled saucily. 'Or a very bad one, I'll strap you to it and you can enjoy the full Mirkardan experience.'

I swallowed wondering what it might feel to be lashed or chained to the rack and...and...

'Prepare to shave her.' Astrid said distracting me from my conflicted yearnings.

I couldn't help smiling. I had already shaved myself, of course, I wanted to be perfect for my mistress; my legs and pussy were smooth as a teenager's (well almost).

'Yes, Mistress.' Inge curtseyed slightly and left the room leaving me to the scrutiny of my new mistress.

After Astrid's rebuke, I didn't dare lift my head or speak, waiting in silence for my mistress' next command. The tension, the desire to speak, to move was almost unbearable. I felt my blushes increasing.

It seemed to take forever for to Inge return; when she did, she was carrying a jug of water.

I had only met Inge once before, she was probably in her mid-twenties, blonde like her mistress though there the similarity ended; she was petite with a thin, elfin face and watery blue eyes; her white blonde hair was cut into a short bob. She was dressed, presumably at her mistress' command in a shiny black rubber bustier and rubber miniskirt, she wore pink rubber stockings and classic bondage shoes with platforms and six inch heels; she had a steel collar locked around her neck and shiny black latex gloves on her hands; I assumed she was more than just a maid.

I watched as Inge poured the water into a bowl on a marble plinth about two feet high, the steam rising. It looked rather like the font in a Christian church. I knew that in some quarters of the city where the plumbing wasn't particularly modern, such things were still used.

Then Inge turned towards me.

My clit leash snaked on the floor in front of me and I prepared myself to be lead along by it again.

'Come !' Inge ignored my leash, beckoning me with a rubber covered finger.

I glanced at Astrid who was watching with amusement and then obeyed, crawling towards the bowl on its stand trying not to kneel in my leash, stopping a foot or so from the steaming water.

'Come.' Inge beckoned me again.

I crawled closer, kneeling close enough to feel the heat from the water.

'Keep still.' The little blonde warned.

I looked down, trying to focus as she produced a short leather thong and, looping it through a ring on the plinth proceded to tie it to my nasal ring. The ring was still new to me, less than a month old and still sensitive. I'd considered removing it but, although I disliked it, its presence actually excited me; Hourishini had been fitted with one. It felt rather exotic, a visible reminder should one be needed of my submission every time I looked in the mirror. Mirkardan women did not wear nose rings even if they had pretty much everywhere else pierced. If I'd not stayed in Mirkada and gone back to the life I'd lived in Cambridge I would have enjoyed seeing my former colleagues' reactions although, they all now knew of my submissive proclivities.

Kneeling this close to the stand was going to make it awkward for her to shave me intimately and, with my nasal ring tied in place, I wouldn't be able to bend forwards to let her reach between my legs.

That's when I realised, it wasn't my pussy that was being shaved.


Chapter 2: Foreign Whore

I'd had the sides of my scalp shaved when I'd been one of Taiarche's handmaidens; the style was depicted in the paintings of Mirkadan servants in the palace; after the initial shock, I'd grown used to it, a little more of the exotic to go with the nose ring. Hourishini, Queen Jazirina's handmaiden and secret lover, was depicted this way too; the sides of her head shaved but with a long lock of dark exotic (to the Mirkadan eye) hair running down her back.

The hair was regrowing at the side of my scalp and, on the rare occasions when my hands had been free in the last week, I'd enjoyed running my fingers across it. Mark had clearly liked it too, stroking me like I was some sort of exotic pet. I'd teased him for it and been thoroughly caned for my pains; I'd also had the pleasure of being treated like a pet; kept on my knees and forced to eat from a bowl without the use of my hands.

I smiled at the thought that, in my desire for submission I was almost becoming Hourishini, the 'little foreign whore' who, I was rapidly discovering, was surprisingly popular in Mirkada. Apparently she had saved her beloved queen from an attempted coup, exposing the ringleaders who had assumed that because the queen mistreated her the little handmaiden would support their cause.

I really missed dreaming of her; those dreams had felt so real that, within them, I had believed I was Hourishini and had felt disorientated and lost when I'd woken to find myself in the present.

Inside, I yearned to return to them, even just once.

Perhaps Astrid would be my Queen Jazirina.

My nipples hardened and my pussy gushed at the thought.

Inge took a bowl and poured water over my scalp then began to rub soap into my hair. It was all rather nice; I'm not a girl who does pampering but having her fingers work over my scalp was a pleasant, relaxing experience especially when she rubbed some sort of oil onto her gloved hands and massaged it in.

Then she produced the razor; a cutthroat one. I hoped she knew what she was doing.

She began on the right side, then did the left, then she moved to the centre.

I tried to protest but I could hardly move, I was in bondage and there was a girl standing over me with a cut-throat razor pressed against my scalp.

I briefly wondered what Mark would say when he came home to find his wife bald.

I was forty three. I hadn't had to colour my roots yet but when they grew back they'd be exposed.

A girl has to think of these things !

My new mistress was clearly trying to humiliate me.

Inge finished by rubbing in more oil while I knelt, simmering.

'Thank you, Inge.' Astrid sounded pleased but, kneeling, held in place by my nasal ring there was no way I could turn to look at her.

'Shall I hood her now, Mistress ?'

'Yes, thank you, Inge.'

Inge walked to a dresser at the side of the room, her cute little bottom swaying in the rubber miniskirt; the little minx wasn't wearing knickers. She disappeared from my field of view and then returned carrying a piece of black rubber, shaking it out. It was clearly a hood, soft but thick enough that it would hide my face; it had laces to fasten it running through reinforced rings and leather strips sewn in to reinforce it.

She stepped behind me and pulled it over my forehead then reached down and deftly removed my nasal piecing. My eyes watered freely and, as I blinked back the tears she pulled the hood down over my face adjusting it and arranging the leather collar round the bottom around my neck. The scent of latex engulfed me, along with total darkness. The hood was tight and I felt her lacing it at the back, pulling it tighter onto my face, moulding it to my features.

It didn't cover my mouth and there were clearly openings under my nose because I could still breath through my nostrils but the rest of my head was enclosed. It proved slightly more difficult to replace my septal ring and my eyes were definitely watering again by the time it was secured. I think Inge had needed to pass it though eyelets in the hood meaning to was now effectively locked onto me by the nasal ring.

Then she collared me.

There's a lot of stuff in the BDSM literature about masters and mistresses collaring slaves and the symbolism of this but, in my case, it simply involved a slight tightening around my neck and the click of a catch; I thought I felt her passing it through loops in the leather collar so there was no way I could slide it out and remove it. The collar was not particularly tall and, I guessed, hoped too, it was like Inge's, steel and shiny and locked in place. It was also snug around the bottom of the hood meaning I was effectively sealed inside the rubber.

I felt a hand between my legs and fingers, rubber covered fingers, fumbling with my clit ring. My leash was detached and a moment later the tug on my nasal ring showed me it had been reattached to me.

I decided I preferred the clit leash.

'Shall I gag her, Mistress ?' I heard Inge asked.

'Yes, the three inch ball.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

I listened to the click of Inge's heels and sensed her standing behind me, opening my mouth like a good little slave girl to take the brutal ball between my teeth. It was larger than the plug but at least it didn't trigger my gag reflex; it was clearly part of a harness gag which Inge adjusted over the hood, tightening the strap under my chin to force my teeth even more tightly against the huge rubber ball.

'Stand.' It was Inge's voice and was accompanied by a little jerk on my nasal ring.

I was suddenly a very obedient slave.

I was lead into another room and then commanded to my knees again, dropping onto a hard surface that I thought might be metal when the wave of nausea that washed over me at the sudden pain in my kneecaps had passed.

A tug on the leash made me bend lower and I felt something being clipped to my nipple rings then, mercifully, the leash was removed from my nose ring.

'Kneel up.' There was a pull on the strap attached to my butt plug and I struggled to obey, the clips on my nipples keeping me bent forward so that all I could do was raise my bottom into the air.

This seemed to be what Inge needed and, a moment later, I felt straps being tightened around my thighs, the left first, then the right; these were used to pull my thighs apart and, I guessed, anchored to something solid because I couldn't close my legs again. Then a strap was put around my already restrained wrists and fastened to something above forcing me into a kind of kneeling strappado position. A hand groped between my legs and something was attached to my clit ring; at first, I thought it was another strap, anchoring me down like the one used in Hourishini's cage in the palace but, as I moved, I felt a gently pull as if a weight had been hung from it. Combined with the weighted dildo flip-flopping back and forth in my pussy this was delightfully stimulating and I hoped I might have a little time to enjoy this sensation.

'Keep still, Houri.'

A hand slapped my bottom. A rubber covered one, I guessed.

Then my ankles were cuffed together.

I heard the clank of metal around me and felt a slight vibration transmitted to my thigh cuffs and the strap around my wrists.

Then something pulled on my nose again and I whimpered into my gag aware that I was starting to drool. I thought my nose was running too but there was nothing I could do about either of those things.

Something touched my nasal ring again, the lightest of pressures and I was sure I heard a bell ringing.

Then my head was jerked up and, as far as I could tell fastened to something above me.

There was another vibration, the clink of metal.

I knelt in silence for a few minutes, bent forwards, my thighs spread, arms pulled up behind me. It was a beautiful bondage position, one designed to display a slave, especially a big breasted one like myself; one that made me thrust out my breasts and bottom. I imagined Mistress watching me, hoping she was pleased with what she saw, wondering what she might think of her new slave in her smooth rubber hood and glistening wet-look black leather vilisqaz, kneeling, helpless, her legs spread, drooling helplessly around her huge gag.

The metal below my knees quickly became uncomfortable and I moved slightly, feeling the weight hanging from my clit swing and dildo inside me shift; the sensations were exquisite especially when the movement pulled gently on my captive nipples making them stiffen. I lifted my chest a little increasing the delicious tension and then relaxed it, taking the weight of my body in my wrists, feeling the strain in my shoulders and pull on my neck forcing it to extend as I leant forward. I hadn't been in such delicious predicament bondage since Taiarche locked me in Hourishini's cage.

I moved my legs again, trying to close them but the straps around my thighs prevented it; the clit weight swung.

God, it felt good.

I was fairly sure I was in a cage, not as narrow as Hourishini's but equally restrictive.

The thought excited my hugely and, almost reflexively, I moved again, hearing the click of the chains between my ankles as I tested the limits of my bondage; the clit weight swung each time I moved. My body responded as expected, so that I suddenly found myself in constant motion, tugging at my ringed nipples, deliberately moving my hips to keep the dildo moving teasingly, constricting my spincter around the butt plug, trying to squeeze my legs together to increase the pressure on my sex.

I was soon panting around my gag, drooling, no doubt, incessantly.

The first orgasm was delicious, coming on me almost unexpectedly, although I'd had to work for it; a good level two, almost a three except that it wasn't anywhere near the last one that was coming; I gasped with pleasure around my gag feeling my body tingle as a hot rush of pleasure erupted in my loins. After that, it was easier, a series of level twos even though I had to work to maintain that level of arousal. I imagined myself performing for Mistress, her little slave girl putting on an erotic submissive display.

I've no idea how long I spent in exquisite torment or how many orgasms I enjoyed. I simply know that, at some point, I heard what I thought was the cage door being unlocked.

'Enjoying yourself, Whore ?' It was Mistress Astrid. I think she was calling me Houri like Inge had but the way she pronounced it made is sound like 'whore.'

I nodded as best I could. 'Mmmggg.'

Her hands caressed my breasts, cupping them, my tethered nipples between her spread fingers.

'Mmmgg.' The feeling with delicious, even as she stretched my nipples lifting and kneading the swollen flesh and reminding me how heavy and sensitive they had become.

'You really are a very naughty little girl.' She continued to massage my breasts. It didn't feel like I'd been naughty. 'And you do know what happens to naughty little girls ?'

I nodded, almost eagerly, the chain above my head clicking and a bell tinkling.

There was definitely a bell clipped to my nose ring.

'I'd say you were already up to five hundred and fifty lashes.'

At this moment, I didn't care. I was still deliciously aroused despite the run of orgasms which, despite my best efforts had been starting to fade but Mistress' touch seemed to rekindle my arousal and I was suddenly on the verge of another climax.

'Well, if we understand each other.' She began to squeeze my breasts, gently at first then harder, her fingers squashing then crushing my breasts and lifting them so my nipples were stretched taut.

'Nnnnggghh !' I whimpered into my gag shaking my head aware of the little bell jingling again under my nose.

She released my breasts and I hung in my bonds drooling and gasping; denied.

'Inge is going to feed and water you then my little slave slut is going to be allowed to sleep.'


Chapter 3: My Tongue

I must have waited around fifteen minutes; it may have been longer; in the hood it was difficult to gauge the passage of time; I was tired after the constant arousal I'd enjoyed and I may even have dozed off in my bonds despite the stiffness in my shoulders. I heard the clink of metal and then felt someone fiddling with my butt plug then, after a moment, I felt a slight fullness and warmth in my belly; the sure signs that I was being given an enema.

It wasn't the first time and I couldn't help smiling around my gag as the liquid filled my bowel, stretching it. The last time I had endured this particular ignominy was at the hands of Taiarche and her maids as Astrid and I were prepared to be Taiarche's handmaidens. I'd found the experience surprisingly pleasant but Astrid had been given some rather more nasty cocktails including a couple of chili enemas. It was hard to imagine the exquisite dominatrix I had seen this afternoon writhing in bondage, her face red and sweat pouring from her body as Taiarche took the opportunity to tease and torment her erstwhile lover.

Astrid had taken it well but, if she ever had the opportunity to dominate Taiarche again, I could imagine her revenge would be sweet and lingering.

My belly was left full for some time before the liquid was run out.

How considerate of Mark to fit me with a butt plug that took an enema tube. I would have to remember to thank him when I next saw him whenever that might be.

Inge loosened the straps around my thighs and I heard the sound of more metal clinking before she unclipped my nipple rings; my breasts tingled as they took up a more normal shape. Then she removed the weight from my clit.

Despite the pleasure it had given me, it was quite a relief.

Finally, she freed my wrists and bridle from the top of the cage.

I hadn't realised how stiff my shoulders were until the intense relief of being able to move them, somewhat; my arms were still tightly strapped into the single sleeve.

Then she clipped a leash to my nose ring and guided me out of the cage. My body was stiff and being able to move and to kneel up was intensely pleasurable.

The joy of being able to move my jaw when she unbuckled the gag and pulled it out of my mouth was indescribable.

'Thang yoo !' I tried to make my tongue and lips obey me but they wouldn't quite play ball.

Thwack !

Pain strafed across my breasts.

'Silence !'

That Inge wasn't the playful pussycat I thought.

'Slave's must not speak unless given permission.' Inge told me.

I wanted to argue but knew my place and knelt with my breasts smarting.

Perhaps that reduced the tally to four hundred and ninety nine or maybe five hundred and forty nine.

'Drink.'

A bottle was thrust into my mouth and I sucked thirstily.

Just water sadly, but then I wasn't allowed to drink anyway and water is good for you.

I just hoped I wasn't on water a gruel for the next three months.

'Your food is on the floor in front of you.' Inge pulled the bottle out of my mouth.

I managed to stop myself saying 'Yes, Mistress' and therefore averted another blow to the breasts; then I leaned forward. I'd played this 'master and slave' game before though I'd never done it blindfolded.

Noone can say I'm not up for a challenge.

I bent forward pushing out my tongue, sweeping my head from side to side and felt my cheek nudge against something.

It wasn't gruel; it was some sort of vegetable stew; nicely spiced.

I was surprisingly hungry and being forced to eat like this was deliciously humiliating. I licked the bowl clean.

When I'd finished, Inge wiped my lips and the hood and then gave me another drink of water. Then she reattached the leash and I followed her struggling along on my knees.

'Slave may relieve itself.'

It came as a bit of a shock but I'd done it in front of Mark often enough; come to think if it I'd done it in front of Astrid too. I sat back and emptied my bladder, aware that another woman was watching me do this.

'Open your mouth.'

I did so expecting to be gagged but Inge rather nicely cleaned my teeth.

Then she gagged me.

It was a simple bit gag, not particularly large or tight but enough to stop a slave speaking in any meaningful way just incase she forgot her training.

I was then lead back to what I assumed was the cage feeling the hard metal under my knees before I heard the clink of metal and the snap of a lock.

Inge's footsteps receded.

I gathered I was supposed to sleep and with some difficulty lay down on my side. My arms were still tightly sheathed and my shoulders were aching; I'd have quite liked to have my toe-boots removed too; but slaves must submit to their mistresses' whims.

I drew my legs up, curling up and tried to go to sleep.

'Tell me where you are, Slave.'

I laughed. 'I'm hooded and chained, Mistress.' I knelt in my cage, still in my leather vilisqaz, arms still sheathed behind my back.

I assumed it must be morning unless Mistress Astrid was playing serious mind games. I'd slept fitfully; it wasn't by any means the first time I'd spent the night in bondage but it was tightly restrictive with my arms sheathed and my ankled chained together sleeping on a hard floor with a gag in my mouth and bars pressing against my shoulders or my legs. Inge had woken me and the morning routine had been like the evening one: enema, water, food (porridge - did that count as gruel ?), pee, back in the cage.

After the previous day in exquisite torment, I wondered if I'd be forced to another day of pleasure; certain parts of my body craved this but my shoulders screamed for release and the opportunity to stretch my legs would be more than welcome.

'You're mistress asked you a question, Slave.' Astrid chided. 'You are required to answer.'

I turned my head towards her voice as if I were looking at her; I have knack for doing this and sometimes Mark is convinced I have some sort of sixth sense.

'After yesterday's rampant display you're already up to five hundred and fifty lashes.' She told me levelly. 'I'm happy to make it a round six hundred.'

I shuddered at the thought. So far I'd had one blow from Inge across the breasts and that didn't appear to count. I remembered Astrid whipping my breasts just before I'd made love to her; she'd used a crop on that occasion. The whip she had carried on my arrival was far more intimidating.

In my dreams as Hourishini I had been whipped by Queen Jazirina and I had felt that pain. Even though I had suffered agonies at her hands, I had loved her and thanked her earnestly for every torment she heaped upon me.

I just hoped my resolve would hold when the pain began for real.

'When will you begin my training, Mistress ?' I guess it was the academic in me; a deep seated need to ask questions.

Astrid sighed. 'Well, that takes us to five-seven-five. Am I going to have to keep you permanently gagged.'

'Sorry, Mistress.' I tried to pout petulantly. 'I think I'm in a cage.'

'Good girl.' She sounded pleased. 'Tell me about it.'

I lifted my head, I was kneeling slightly stooped with my head bowed having tried to kneel up and feeling something above me that might be a metal grid.

'It's about three and a half feet high...'

'You must remember to call be Mistress.'

'Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress.' I leant forward and then crawled forward until I could feel something with my forehead, the wall of the cage I assumed. Again it felt like a metal grid. Without thinking, I pushed out my tongue, tasting metal; the mesh was about four millimeters thick, steel rods I assumed, the vertical bars on the inside and as I traced one up I found the horizontal ones were on the outside. Pushing my tongue through the bars I found a square hole about two inches across.

I relayed my findings to Mistress.

'Good, girl.'

Inspired, I ran my tongue along the front of the cage until I felt the side wall; this just had vertical bars, thicker ones, perhaps half an inch across; round. I went up, following the steel rod, exploring more of my prison using my tongue; the roof was, as I had thought, another grid mesh. Bending down I licked the floor. Solid metal.

'The floor is very hard, Mistress.'

'To remind you of your place.' Mistress chided. 'If you are a good girl, I may allow you a cushion.'

'I would like that, Mistress.'

I imagined her squatting in front of me and wondered what she was wearing; was it her leather vilisqaz or was she in European style clothes...perhaps she was naked. The thought thrilled me as did the thought that she might use me, might allow me to please her.

'When you entered my house.' She said. 'Your name was Sally and, when you leave it, that may become your name again. For the time you are with me you will be 'Slave' or 'Whore'.'

She was definitely saying 'whore'.

'Now, Whore, tell me more about your prison.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I felt a thrill as awkwardly, I turned in my cage continuing my explorations, my tongue probing the bars, discovering a hatch in the back wall.

'Inge will be able to access you from all directions. She can insert your enema tube through this without the need to release you.' Mistress told me.

'Yes, Mistress.' My body tingled at how helpless I was.

The cage was similar to Hourishini's in which I'd spent the night before Salaxis' inauguration and one night since. It was wider meaning I could turn round and shorter. Space for a slave to curl up on the floor like the animal she was. Perhaps Mistress would give me a basket as well as a cushion if was good.

After making me explore my cage with my tongue, Mistress lead me out by my nose ring and then, finally, released me from the single sleeve in which I'd spent at least twenty four hours. The relief was intense and I thanked her profusely as I stretched my tortured shoulders and rolled my neck. She didn't release me further and put her whip in my mouth the remind me to keep silent.

It was the coiled bullwhip I'd seen her carrying, plaited flexible leather thongs designed to drive a beast in harness or, perhaps, to punish a slave. Holding it in my mouth and feeling its loops on my bare breasts made my nipples harden and my pussy tingle. I knelt trying not to drool but unable to stop my tongue exploring the leather, tasting and smelling it as I held it between my teeth.

She then freed me from the leather vest, easing my aching breasts out of the tight holes that had constricted them; they throbbed magnificently, my nipples tingling and swelling, reminding me of their exquisite tenderness.

Then she took hold of my right wrist and slid something over my hand, some sort of mitt that constrained my fingers then I felt something close around my wrist. A similar mitt was placed on my left hand and cuff locked around my left wrist.

'Tell me about them.' She removed the whip from my mouth.

With my hands mitted all I could do was to lift my right wrist to my mouth and lick the cuff, tasting it. It was thin, no more than two or three millimeters but it was metal and thus beyond my ability to remove; I felt it to be about two inches wide; the left one was the same; I ran my tongue over them and could feel rings set into them that I thought pivoted out so they could be locked together or chained to something.

Then I explored the mitts; they were rubber but I could feel thick, stiff leather, ridges of stitching that turned my hands into paws. There were rings at the tips about an inch across, like my my nipple rings but larger and thicker; they had some sort of locking mechanism too, a screw collar that I couldn't possibly open with just my tongue or teeth. After examining the mitts, my hands went to my neck trying to feel the collar; it wasn't very revealing but I heard the rings at the tips click on metal; between my rubber and leather covered hands, I deduced that the collar was of the same design as the cuffs though thought I could feel a ring at the front under my chin.

'You will wear these until you leave.' Mistress Astrid told me. 'If you are a good girl, I might return you to your master still wearing them.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I gasped, excited at he prospect.

As Hourishini, I had worn a similar collar and cuffs, welded in place. There had been similar cuffs on my ankles too.

'Stand.'

I obeyed, sliding my hands behind my back and pushing my chest out, as I stood on my toes in the leather boots.

'Good girl.' She said. 'That is where I expect you to place your hands at all times. It displays your tits nicely. However we must work in your posture.'

Astrid lead me forward, again by my nose ring then took my arms and, lifting them up out to the side, locked the tips of the mitts to something on either side of my body at around the level of my hips. Then she made me spread my legs and fastened some soft of restraint around my ankles to hold them apart.

'Time for your first whipping.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I couldn't help trembling, an intoxicating mix of anticipation and fear.


Chapter 4: Five hundred lashes

I gasped and arched in my bonds, my head snapping back, as the whip stung between my legs. The bell under my nose jingled and jerked my sensitive piercing.

'Count !' Mistress Astrid reminded me, her accent making the word sound like 'Cunt'; the casual use of the word at once offending and thrilling me.

'One.' I hissed, my sex still pulsing with pain. 'Mistress.' I added after a moment remembering what Mistress had told me.

'Good girl.' Astrid stroked my cheek or, at least touched the rubber hood.

'Thank you, Mistress.' I turned as if to look at the beautiful blonde, imagining a gentle smile play on her soft pink lips, sensing, perhaps a hint of tenderness in the gaze of those intense blue eyes, once again wondering what she was wearing. Were here breasts bare like mine, where her nipple rings glinting in the morning light as her nipples swelled with the pleasure of punishing her slave whore ? Did she like to display her body as I was displayed for her ? It was so cruel of her to keep me hooded when just looking at her would make my nipples hard but I knew why she was doing it; I'd read enough BDSM literature to know that being kept blind like this would make my other senses so much more acute, make the anticipation greater, so that when she whipped me, I would be trembling and when she caressed me the little tremors of that pleasure that pulsed through my body would become explosions of lust that rocked me each time her fingers caressed my skin.

'You can expect the whip on every part of this gorgeous body.' She told me, her hand sliding down from my face to the bare skin of my chest and onto my breast.

'Yes, Mistress.'

Her fingers toyed with my nipple ring for a moment then she lifted her hand away.

I heard the click of her heels.

I envisaged her wearing just heels; that perfect body displayed on them, tanned skin, golden hair cascading down her back; her tight round bottom on display as she walked away from me then I imagined her turning, showing me her lovely neat little breasts again as she walked behind me.

The next blow stung my back, lashing across my shoulder blades.

'Two.' I let the word out as a gasp, my back smarting.

'Where shall we go next ?' I could hear the pleasure in her voice and imagined her running the whip through her fingers as she looked at my captive body; a contemplative smile on her face as she surveyed her helpless slave.

Perhaps she was wearing the studded leather vilisqaz or perhaps she was dressed as more of a traditional dominatrix in a black leather vest or bra and a corset. Was Inge watching her punish me ? Was the blonde maid rubbing her thighs together beneath her little rubber skirt as her mistress' lovely tanned and toned body displayed itself to the lucky little voyeur; the thought made my sex drool.

A searing pain lanced across my buttocks.

'Three.' I swayed awkwardly on my heels and my body moved reflexively.

I thought I knew what might be coming next.

My breasts were so sensitive. Surely she would know that, wouldn't target them too much; could she be so cruel to her devoted slave ?

'Ahhhgghh.' I screamed as hot pain flared across them. 'Four, Mistress.' I managed to gasp. 'Thank you, Mistress.'

Sweat was pricking my skin. The pain building, fear that I could not endure what I had set out to undertake, that I would have to admit to weakness and ask to be released from my bondage, demit the full punishment I had been promised.

It would be a far worse humiliation than any other and not one that would excite me.

If I did ask to be released, would Astrid release me ? If I begged would she show mercy ? I was alone with this women, in a foreign city, hooded and chained and utterly at her mercy.

We hadn't even agreed a safeword. If I cried and begged she might just assume this was what I wanted, to be driven to tears, made to sob and beg and crawl.

Another stroke to my back. 'Five.'

Another lower. 'Six.'

'Enough for today.' Astrid's finger traced the line of the sixth stroke then slid to my buttocks following the mark she had inflicted there.

'More, please, Mistress.' I heard myself say.

'Are you sure ?' Astrid's voice was level.

'Yes, Mistress.' I wonder if she thought I was doing it to please her. 'Slave begs to be whipped some more.'

'Well, if you insist.' Astrid's fingers toyed with my nipple ring and a warmth spread into my body, my nipple tingling under its Mistress' touch, my sex suddenly flooding, pleasure where a moment ago there had been pain.

How had I become so constantly horny, so masochistic ?

They tell you your libido fades as you get older but I guess 'they' have never been to Mirkada; the place that for me had opened the door to a whole range of new sexual experiences, an exotic garden of (largely submissive) pleasure. Now Astrid was taking me beyond the walls of this garden to a whole world of sexual deviance I could barely have imagined a few years ago. That combined with all those hormones raging through my body must have formed a heady cocktail that lead me to make 'unexpected' decisions. They do say pregnancy turns a woman's brain to mush; who'd have thought the same applied to a renowned professor of history ? Who'd have thought I'd fall pregnant at forty three ? Most importantly, who'd have thought that being pregnant would have filled my nights and, subsequently, my days, with erotic and submissive fantasies ?

My descent into submission hadn't been a sudden thing; more a gradual progression; our first visit to Mirkada with its rules on female restraint had lead Mark and I to begin experimenting with bondage and 'games of dominance and submission' usually with me in the submissive role. It was something we'd previously flirted with but never truly explored though there had been a few moment in our marriage when we'd done a little more than dip our toes in the water. However, over the two years after out first visit, our games had evolved so that on the second visit I found myself completely embracing my submission. I like to think that as a career woman, I'd been held back from these desires by thoughts that allowing myself to be bound and even beaten was wrong; against the feminist principles I had always supported. Then, just before the third visit, I had began to have to the dreams. I didn't know I was pregnant then and couldn't understand the vivid and intensely erotic sado-masochistic images that filled my nights; dreams, very real dreams of being a slave to a cruel and domineering queen; they were just dreams but when I entered them I really was (or felt I was) Hourishini.

It wasn't just the intensity of the BDSM that had surprised me, it was the the homo-erotic nature of many of the dreams. This new twist in my submission had began just before the trip; still in Cambridge, I'd dreamed of women, some of them my own students binding and gagging me, subduing me; and the pleasure I enjoyed from this was staggering.

the third visit that had really taken me over the edge, probably as a result of the preparations for the governor's inauguration which meant I had been required to submit to bondage at the hands of Silaxis' beautiful wife Taiarche on a daily basis as I was transformed into one of her handmaidens. In a city where upper class women wear the vilisqaz when they dress up, a garment that is designed to both bind and display the female body, it is not surprising that the handmaidens to the governor's wife are presented in most elaborate bondage. Alongside Astrid, her other handmaiden, I thus submitted to intense bondage that took many hours to apply, to cleansing rituals (I think these were probably more for Taiarche's amusement than any traditional ritual) and additions to my piercings.

According to Taiarche, it was drinking Mirkardan spiced wine that intensified the dreams; I had no idea I was pregnant at that stage or I would not have drunk it. She said it was used in Mirkada to induce group hallucinations. I found that a bit far-fetched but then, my hormone theory was a bit weak too.

Whatever the trigger, by the end of the week I'd been a trembling with unrequited lust, filled with a desire to experience a true lesbian encounter. Perhaps my lesbian desires were fueled by the discovery that Taiarche and Astrid had been lovers; still were lovers; something that they made no secret of and something about which their husbands seemed to approve or, perhaps turn a blind eye to; I could understand that submissive Sven, Astrid's husband, might have no choice but to endure his enforced chastity as his beautiful blonde wife made love to another woman but Salaxis was an intelligent man. I cannot believe he did not know of his wife's actions.

The relationship between Astrid and Taiarche and their invitation to join them as their squirming sex slave created a profound dilemna; I loved Mark and somehow joining them in bed the night before the inauguration would have felt like a betrayal; although, I'm not sure that declining their offer to spend more time locked in a cage dreaming of being the sex toy of a long dead queen carried any more merit.

We stopped at twelve lashes and I thanked my Mistress for punishing me.

Astrid stroked my cheek and then I felt her lips brush mine fleetingly, her breasts and nipples touching mine, our bodies close.

'Good girl.' She whispered in my ear.

Then she put the whip back in my mouth.

'A little test for you Houri.'

Definitely 'Houri' this time but it really did sound like 'Whore'.

I am your whore, Mistress. I wanted to tell her. Use me like the submissive slut I am. Let your whore pleasure you as Houri did her beloved Mistress.

I heard her heels receding, wishing I could watch her go and then stood a contrite and punished slave, reliving the whipping in my mind, my body tingling where the lash had kissed my flesh.

The room was warming, perhaps it was nearing mid-day and I could feel my skin beginning to sweat. My legs and feet were hot in the leather toe boots and I moved them slightly feeling the leather sticking to my thighs and knees, sweat beginning to run down inside the boots. I was still plugged, front and back and the dildo in my vagina was still reacting as I moved, teasing me as it had done during the whipping.

I moved my hips again, thinking of Mistress, of her tight body, her tanned flesh, whipping me dressed nothing by a pair of spiked heels; I thought of being able to fall to my knees and lick them, fulfilling my submissive desires as I groveled before her, my breasts bound and crushed beneath my body as my tongue ran up and down the huge stilettos just as it had done on the bars of the cage.

Perhaps, if I pleased her, she might allow my tongue to move onto her body, to lick and kiss her feet, her ankles, calves, her knees and thighs...to bury itself in her hot salty depths as I explored her body, her blind, willing and utterly obedient whore.

I spent the afternoon lost in fantasy, the dildo moving as I moved. I wished my clit was still weighted or my nipples stretched to allow me to tease them. I had the butt plug and I couldn't help contracting my sphincter around it, relishing the sensations it brought.

A year ago I'd thought anal sex was dirty, then I'd tried it.

What had I become ?

A submissive whore who enjoyed being humiliated and abused, allowing her body to be restrained and beaten, her orifices penetrated.

A submissive whore who spent the rest of the afternoon trying to bring herself to orgasm as she stood with her legs spread, half-naked, hooded, plugged, holding her mistress' whip in her teeth.

By the time Inge came to release me, I was writhing with lust, the little bell hanging from my nose jingling constantly as I jerked in my bonds in frustration, sweat dripping from my body, my juices running freely from my pussy and saliva streaming from my mouth.

I was vaguely aware of Inge's approach but it was only the sudden slap of her cane across my breasts that shook me from my erotic fantasy.

'You will be punished later.' She told me. 'And mistress will increase your tally.'

'Igghhh.' I pushed myself towards her desperate for feel her rubber covered fingers touch my body, perhaps slide between my thighs. 'Blsh.'

'Keep still you horny whore.'

Another stinging slap to my sensitive breasts only increased my lust.

I tried to control myself but it took all my willpower to obey her especially when she started to remove my boots and I could feel her fingers against my thighs.

'It is like a river down here, you slut !' Inge said.

My legs must have been glowing, steaming, I imagined; the air against them deliciously cool even in the warmth of the evening but though they were left bare, my feet were slipped into ankle boots and then I heard and felt the snap of steel around my ankles.

Then she took the whip out of my mouth.

'On your knees, Slave.'

I obeyed, dropping down so that my arms were now stretched slightly behind me at the level of my shoulders.

'Time for your first lesson.' Inge told me.

Her hands grasped my head and pulled it forwards.

My nose pressed against something and my tongue instantly came out.

Rubber.

Inge lifted her skirt and I tasted bare flesh.

'Let's see what you can do.'

I tipped my head back and pushed my chin between her legs, seeking her sex with my tongue, felt the metal ring that pierced her clit.

'Clumsy bitch.' She pulled my head away then guided me in more slowly.

I felt the ring again with the tip of my tongue ducking past it to lick at her labia.

'Better.'

I wormed my tongue between her lips tasting saltiness.

My experience of cunnilingus was limited in reality at least, though Hourishini had done it a good few times for Jazirina.

I couldn't help wondering if Mark had realised that it wouldn't just be Astrid's salt-box that I'd be cleaning.

'Not bad.' Inge was a little breathless and I thought, satisfied. 'By the time you leave we'll have you munching pussy like a high-class Stockholm gigolo.

'Thank you, Mistress.' My mouth was filled with her juices and I imagined them smeared across the hood.

'Now, I must punish you.'

I felt an afternoon of frustration was punishment enough but I took five strokes of her cane to my breasts and thanked her. Then she left me, on my knees with the pain gradually fading from my throbbing breasts and my pussy still dripping with desire.

I knelt aroused and frustrated still working the twin plugs inside me until I heard the click of heel.

'Good evening, Slave.'

'Good evening, Mistress.' I couldn't stop a smile crossing my face.

Perhaps she was going to take me to her bed.

'Stand up.'

I obeyed, climbing up onto the tips of my toes; the boots had very fine points and I wobbled slightly.

'I see Inge's been enjoying you.' Mistress traced her finger across the slick rubber that covered my face.

'Slave hopes she pleased.'

'I would expect no less.' Astrid's fingers slid down to my breasts and I pushed my chest forward. 'And what did you get these for ?' She traced the lines left by Inge's cane.

'She caught me masturbating.'

'Really ?' Astrid seemed genuinely surprised. Could she really not know how hot I was at the moment, being kept this way, a naked slave, hooded and chained.

'She said you would increase my tally too.' I knew I was asking to be whipped more but I wanted any excuse to spend time with Astrid.

'That makes six hundred then.' She pushed my nipple ring aside and teased my nipple.

'Yes, Mistress.' I couldn't help smiling.

'These really are lovely.' She teased my nipple a little more and then hefted my breast. 'Huge and firm and...delicious.'

I felt her teeth close over my nipple and gasped with pleasure and she stretched it gently.

'Sensitive too.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I desperately wanted her to bite me again.

'We must look after this lovely body during your stay with is.' Her finger ran down my belly.

I pushed my hips forwards feeling the dildo move inside me. 'Let your slave please you, Mistress.' I blushed even as I said it.

Mistress chuckled. 'So eager.' Her hand slid between my legs and she cupped my sex pressing her fingers against my pussy and lifting the dildo inside me. 'I like to wear mine too.' She confided.

My pulse was racing at being handled like this and I hoped she would continue to tease me but she removed her hand and I heard the click of her heels.

'What are you wearing, Mistress ?' I don't know what made me think of that but it just came out. My brain really was turning to mush.

'That's a very impertinent question for a slave.'

Something slapped across my bottom, some sort of multibladed whip.

'But since you ask.' She was clearly amused by the question. 'I'm wearing a pair of boots.' She stopped abruptly.

'Nothing else, Mistress ?'

My bottom took another blow.

'Nothing else, Slave.' Her amusement showed. 'Would Slave like me to describe them for her ?'

'Slave would enjoy that, Mistress.'

'You've seen them before, they're very shiny and black...'

I remembered groveling at her feet to lick them clean with my tongue.

'Do they need cleaning, Mistress ?'

'Sadly, not. Inge's just spent the last half hour polishing them.'

'Oh.' I was bitterly disappointed and not a little jealous.

But then perhaps she had other pairs, other pairs I could explore with my tongue, as I had explored my cage.

'But I'll be sure to get them dirty when I wear them out this evening.' 'Perhaps I might let you clean them for me tomorrow.'

'I'd like that, Mistress.'

The whip fell across my breasts and then I heard her heels clicking on the floor as she left me alone.

Inge finally freed me and I crawled back to my cage on all fours, still frustrated, for my evening ablutions and my enema. I was then put to bed (caged) naked save for the hood, mitts and boots and of course the steel bands locked around my neck, my wrists and my ankles. Compared to the previous night it felt surprisingly luxurious and, even if there wasn't a cushion, I had been given a blanket to lay on. However, my relative freedom was short-lived and soon enough, as I lay on my side, Inge clipped something to my collar and then made me spread my knees before clipping something to my ankle cuffs; when I closed my legs, there was a bar between them and it wasn't long before the tips of my bondage mittens were locked to it too.

'The devil finds work for idle hands.' Inge told me.

'Idle tongues too, I suspect.' I said; adding after a moment. 'Mistress.'

'Open wide.'

She slid a bit gag between my teeth and buckled it in place.

I remembered reading about the gag as a metaphor for a child's dummy or comforter. It actually felt comfortable in my mouth, as if it belonged there. I'm not sure the same was true for my plug gag. I'm sure Freud would have had a theory about it. I wondered what he thought about penis gags.

I was drooling almost immediately.

Chained like this, I wouldn't even be able to turn over in the cage and with my pussy out of reach of my hands there was no way I was going to be able to play with myself. For a moment, I felt a tingle of excitement as Inge's fingers grasped my left nipple but it turned out she was only removing my piercings; she took out the other one too and my clit ring, removing the dildo and leaving me feeling somewhat empty. Then, she closed the cage around me, locking it (as if that were important) and I lay on my side and tried to sleep but with all the excitement, stayed awake.

I little later, Inge returned and replaced my piercings; for some reason she seemed to struggle to get them in, I assumed it was something to do with the swelling of my breasts though, it took her just as long and quite a lot of fiddling to pass my clit one too. Disappointingly, it was more uncomfortable than stimulating and after she'd gone, my nipples and clit were left aching. Fortunately she'd also pushed my dildo back inside again and locked it in place with the labial bar through my piercings.

I really would have to look up some psychology about my apparent need to be plugged in all three orifices.

The next morning after my morning ablutions I was strapped into a something that felt more like a harness than a vilisqaz but after the skimpy 'bedroom' vilisqaz I'd been sporting recently, perhaps something a bit more substantial was needed. It came with a bridle that used a bit gag and then my hands were clipped to the back of the harness.

Perhaps, I thought, I was going to be taken out.

In a manner of speaking, I was, to the courtyard, at least.

Many Mirkadan houses have a courtyard, often with some plants or even a palm tree in; there is often a small pool too, sometimes containing fish. Many have wells too from which to draw up the water. Of course, most houses these days have electric pumps though many keep the old-fashioned treadles for ornamental purposes or for use if the power fails.

I was about to discover exactly what Astrid meant by keeping my body in shape.

I was guided onto something that felt rather unstable and then felt straps being fastening to my harness to keep me upright.

Then a sharp smack on the bottom spurred me into motion.

I was clearly walking on some sort of treadmill. It was hard work; especially in toe boots; in summer the water table is quite deep and drawing water up from the well takes a lot of work.

A lot of work.

I stumbled occasionally but the harness kept me upright and, if I slowed, Inge swatted my bottom with something that felt remarkably like a carpet-beater. I'd seen these in the museum of the old palace along with pictures of women (always women) on similar treadmills being encouraged in their work. It looked like a carpet beater too. Most of the treadmills were like large wheels mounted on the wall, mostly open on one side so that the 'worker' could be encouraged in her work. These were mostly servants but although Mirkada had never officially permitted slavery, foreign 'workers' were often used for labour and some of the descriptions of the rape racks to which captured women were bound for 'general use' suggested that being kept in slavery would not be unheard of for a 'foreign whore' or captured enemy.

The device was clearly old and I could hear wood and rope creaking, the squeal of a poorly greased axle and, after a few minutes, I thought I could hear the sputter of water. It was enough to drown out the tinkle of the little bell hanging from my nose ring that usually accompanied my movements.

'Keep moving, Foreign Whore.' Inge told me, liberally applying her beater to my bottom.

I'd never done pony play but I'd indulged in a few fantasies about it; Mark trotting me round one of the fields in Cambridge bridled and harnessed with a plume in my hair and a tail swishing behind me, pulling a little buggy. This was likely to be the closest I ever got, for the moment at least.

As workouts went, it wasn't difficult but it was grueling and seemed to last for ages. I usually put in an hour at the gym in the morning and it felt a lot longer than that, though I don't usually work out in my vilisqaz and certainly not in toe boots. I've done it with various toys locked inside me, of course, and the gentle flip-flop of the dildo locked inside me was a constant tease.

I've always liked the idea of one of the one of my gym instructors putting me through my paces in bondage or, at the very least standing over me with a whip to make sure I don't skimp.

Today I was getting pony play and kinky personal training rolled into one; I was a lucky girl.

By the end of the morning I was also an exhausted one.

When Inge finally allowed me to stop I was panting around my gag and dripping sweat. My legs felt heavy and I stumbled as she unclipped my harness and guided me off the wheel landing on my knees in the hot sand.

'Clumsy girl !'

I braced for another blow but nothing came and I started to struggle to my feet however, before I could manage it, a volley of chilled water struck my body. After the initial shock, it was quite welcome and I stood sputtering.

It occurred to me that, although Inge cleaned my teeth and gave me an enema, she hadn't washed me at all. After today's exertions I probably stank even more.

'Now it's time for your punishment.' Inge told me and clipped a leash to my nose ring before leading me back inside for another twelve of the best.


Chapter 5: Pain and Pleasure

Thwack !

The tawse stung my right buttock and I heard Inge say something to her mistress in Swedish.

Astrid laughed and landed a matching blow on the left side.

The pair had chosen a buttock each and were 'punishing me' using what felt like leather straps, double bladed tawses I assumed from the way the leather slapped loudly against my flesh but did little more than sting for a few moments.

I suspected my bottom was already glowing an attractive shade of red.

I'd tried to count despite the huge plug gag Inge had decided I was to wear for the day and shoved in my mouth after my morning routine but Astrid told me these didn't count to my total and with the huge gag I doubted they would understand me anyway.

All I could do was enjoy the attention although, of course, I had little choice; being bent over with my legs spread and bound in place. Inge had cuffed my hands up behind me, linking them to my collar so there was no way I could protect my bottom; she'd then spread my legs between the two posts Astrid used when she delivered my tally. I was eight days in, ninety lashes; the previous day I'd not been able to face a second six. Eight days in intense bondage enduring Astrid's whippings as well as Inge's punishments was beginning to take it's toll, my body ached and I had begged Inge to be lenient with my bondage when she locked me in the cage the previous night. Much to my surprise, she had left me in a relatively lax hog-tie, the tips of my mitts locked to the toes of my boots.

Like the hood, the mitts and boots had become permanent fixtures on my body, locked in place by the steel cuffs rendering my hands almost useless and ensuring that when I wasn't crawling on al fours I walked on my toes, straight legged making me feel like a bizarre sex doll. Blind inside the hood and without the use of my hands, I was utterly dependent on my mistresses to guide me leashed by my nose ring or my clit or sometimes with a finger hooked in one of my nipple rings. On a couple of occasions, Mistress Astrid had repeated the exercise of making me use my tongue to explore my prison; Inge continued to make use of my tongue too, usually before gagging me for the night so that I slept with the taste of her on my tongue.

Last night, she'd used the bit gag again which was always more comfortable than the plugs and balls that had been forced into my mouth for the previous few days.

By the morning, I'd felt better but I was straight back to the usual strict routine.

For this whipping, my head was kept down and my bum pulled up by a rope that was tied to my collar, ran between breasts and then ran up tightly between my spread legs and buttocks to somewhere above me; the rope was beaded, certainly the part between my legs was and they'd removed my labial lock so that my pussy lips rubbed constantly against the beads. It was incredibly stimulating even though they'd removed my dildo.

It was a week since I'd cum; I'd not been allowed to repeat my 'lascivious' behaviour in the cage and I'd been mercilessly chained each night to prevent it; anytime Inge found me trying to masturbate she punished me.

It didn't stop my trying though; I was being kept in constant bondage and usually constantly plugged too. Oddly, I was starting to feel slightly empty without my dildo but the rope between my legs was keeping my on my toes so to speak (as well as literally) so I was enjoying some much needed stimulation and trying to conceal a fairly constant stream of little pre-cum type one orgasms as they slapped my bottom with their tawses.

With Mistress and, of course, Inge whipping me I should have been in heaven but the constant dialogue between my tormentresses in Swedish and the giggles I kept hearing irritated me. There was little doubt both Mistress Astrid and Inge were deriving a lot of pleasure from doing this to me and I liked the idea that Mistress gained pleasure tormenting me; what frustrated me was that there was a good deal of 'slap and tickle' going on between them.

I was insanely jealous.

I'd been in Astrid's house for a week, her chained and willing slave, eager to please her and she hadn't once used me. The closest we'd come to intimacy was the daily whipping she administered and the evening she'd toyed with my helpless body wearing nothing but her shiny black boots.

I woke with a start.

My cage was being unlocked, surely, I thought, it couldn't be morning already; it felt like I had barely slept.

I'd been put to bed with my wrists cuffed behind my back and my ankles cuffed. Frustratingly, the short spreader bar was back, strapped between my thighs so I couldn't close them or tease myself.

I really needed to cum properly.

As Inge's night-time bondage went, it wasn't that strict but I was wearing the plug gag.

'Ung ?'

'Shhh !' It was Astrid's voice.

Pleasure overwhelmed me.

She freed my hands and then pulled me up onto all fours, making me crawl beside her and bending to guide me with her hands. Crawling with the thigh spreader was awkward; it's just as well I have a good amount of hip flexibility. I tried to keep my head as still as possible so the little bell under my nose didn't accompany my movements.

I guessed where we might be going and a few moments later I was thrilled to climb into a soft bed which I assumed to be Astrid's. After eight nights in the cage, it felt luxurious and I made no objection at all as she cuffed my hands again, locking the tips of the mitts to the thigh cuffs holding the spreader bar in place.

Then she began to play with me, her hands roaming over my helpless and oh-so-willing body.

I can't believe how desperate I was to please her thrusting myself towards her like an eager pet longing to have her tummy tickled by her mistress but she kept her distance leaving me bound and gagged as she teased me mercilessly. I longed for her to take out my gag so I could pleasure her or free my hands though, in the mitts, I doubted they would be much use.

Though her hands explored my body she didn't unlock my sex, so the dildo sat inside me moving as I rolled and her fingers touched and teased me; she spent a long time toying with my breasts and stroking my nipples.

I could smell alcohol on her breath and perhaps tobacco; I guessed she had been out and, of course therefore restrained in a vilisqaz; she wasn't wearing it now, I was certain of that; there had been no click of heels as she'd walked beside me. I wondered what she'd been doing; if only she'd been allowed to take me, her sexy pet, crawling beside her on a leash. Jazirina had done it with Houri but even with the unusual customs of modern Mirkada, this would have been over the top.

'You're so horny.' She teased.

'Ung !' That was an understatement.

Climbing over me she pressed her body against my back; she was definitely naked. One hand continued to tease me; I could feel her wanking herself with the other one.

I almost cried with frustration.

'Ohhhhh...' She moaned and I knew she'd just cum; pleased herself rather than allowing me to do it.

A little later, I was lead back to my cage where she left me on my front. With the spreader bar there was barely enough room to lie down and having my thighs spread stopped me rolling over. The blanket was beneath my hips but my breasts were pressed against the steel floor of the cage. It was all too much, the memories of her hands on my body combined with a week of unsated desire overwhelmed me and I wanked myself to a type three rocking on my belly and rubbing my swollen nips on the floor of the cage.

'I know what you did last night.' Inge slapped my bottom as she ran my enema in.

She'd pulled me out of my cage rather roughly by my nasal piercing. Perhaps she was jealous of my midnight tryst with her mistress.

'I heard your nipple rings on the floor of the cage.' She continued by way of explanation, giving me another slap. 'I came in to see you wanking yourself silly.'

She closed the nozzle of my butt plug leaving my belly swollen and full.

'I wanted to give you a chili enema but Mistress wouldn't let me so I have another punishment in store for you.'

I took several more slaps as she continued my morning routine and then, instead of my usual work out in the water wheel, I was lead up the stairs. This was a rather slow and tedious process for a hooded slave in toe boots with her hands cuffed behind her back being guided by her nasal piercing.

After cleaning my teeth, she'd replaced the plug gag which was so huge I could only breath through my nose and I was feeling a bit light headed and very out of breath when we emerged into the already warming Mirkadan sun. I guessed we must be on the roof.

'Lay down.'

I lay down on my back on the already warming stones of the roof and, spreading my arms and legs, Inge began to lock them in place leaving me spreadeagle.

'It get's very warm up here.' Inge said conversationally as she fastened something to the toe of my right boot.

I could already feel the hot sun on my naked skin.

'In the past, peasants used to cook their food on the stones of the roof.'

I recalled Mirkadan's had used the process to torture information out of prisoners too.

My resqinue did not give authority to cause permanent harm (the scars from the whip apparently didn't count). Strictly speaking the piercings were against the rule but from my reading, I'd gathered they frequently inserted into the women who underwent it.

I didn't greatly relish the prospect of severe sunburn to my front and third degree burns to my back.

Inge's hands brushed me between the legs and I felt her unlocking my labial pin. Then she eased the dildo out of me. She removed it quite frequently and certainly every time she removed my piercings which she did briefly each night. The butt plug seemed to be a more permanent fixture.

'Ungh.' I gurgled in response to sharp blow to my sex. Inge's ever present cane, I assumed.

It appeared was going to have a sore pussy too ! It was my lucky day.

I started to sweat, I could feel the heat being reflected from the stones around me. The stones beneath me were already uncomfortable under my back and buttocks. I squirmed slightly but that brought me into contact with even hotter parts of the stones.

'Ungh.'

Inge struck me again. 'You are a very naughty slave.'

'Yz, Mzdz.'

She struck me again.

'Mistress is too soft with you but I think it is time you learned the true nature of submission.'

She caned me again, several times then I heard her footsteps receding.

My pussy throbbed.

'Pz, Mzdz.' I pleaded though my huge gag, squirming again.

There wasn't a hint of a breeze only the heaviness of the air and far below the distant sounds of Mirkada.

I think Inge only left me for ten minutes or fifteen at the most but it seemed much longer and I was becoming convinced I would be baked alive. Technically, I suppose, I was being grilled.

Then I felt her shadow over me and she caned my pussy again.

Then she removed my gag.

'Thank you, Mistress.' I licked my lips. 'I am a worthless slave, I will not disappoint you again.'

'No, you won't.' She struck me on the pussy again and I gasped.

Then I felt a pressure over my shoulders and chest and I knew she was squatting over my face. I pushed out my tongue like a good girl registering her now familiar taste.

'You'd better do a good job and do it quickly.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I managed to stop myself rushing in, I knew she liked to be licked slowly. Carefully, I touched her labia, running my tongue down each side before gently pushing my way into the middle.

She shifted her weight and I realised she'd done it to give me easier access to her pussy. I stretched up and flicked her piercing ring gently with the tip of my tongue.

'Not bad, Slave.' Her voice had an edge to it. I was clearly doing a good job.

I pushed my way inside.

'Good, girl.'

I lifted my head and took her clit ring in my teeth pulling her down onto me.

Then I let rip with my tongue and lips in an allover assault that usually gave her what she wanted.

It worked.

A few moments later I felt her spasm and heard her gasp. I guess it was only a type two but perhaps she was hot too.

At least she wasn't a squirter like Astrid.

'Keep your mouth open, Slave.'

I obeyed and suddenly felt something warm in my mouth.

In my dreams of Hourishini, Queen Jazirina had pissed in my mouth and I knew what it felt like. The first time she'd done it, I'd been horrified and struggled violently but I'd been pinned down by her weight.

Once she'd made me hers, I'd accepted it willingly.

I suppose I should have been horrified by what Inge was doing to me but it just felt like a rite of passage. A torment to be accepted, even enjoyed in the panoply of sexual humiliation that a slave was required to endure.

I lay back and let Inge give me a golden shower, letting it fill my mouth though I tried not to swallow. As my mouth filled, the hot liquid began to overflow and splashed up into my nose making me struggle to breathe. I tried not to cough.

When she'd finished I was aware of her standing and of hot piss dripping onto my chest.

I lay back with my mouth full.

'You may swallow.'

I tried not to gag as I drank the hot liquid down.

'In future, you will swallow as I use you. You will not spill any.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

I felt her free my hands and feet but lay still until she commanded me to my knees.

'Kneel straighter.'

I obeyed spreading my knees and sliding my hands behind my back.

I had not been a slave in name to Jazirina but I had been made to behave like one. I knew what was expected of me and the prospect excited me.


Chapter 6: Slave Training

I lay in my cage, my body tingling with pleasure. After the incident on the roof, Inge had made me exercise in the treadmill using the beater liberally to drive me on and then, after watering me had but me through my paces, teaching me how to stand and kneel.

'You need to display that whore's body.' She told me, correcting my posture with a blow the cane to my breasts or my thighs or any other part of my body she decided was positioned wrongly and all the time she drilled into me the need to keep silent unless I was given permission to speak. I think this was why she didn't gag me and it was easy to fall into her traps, I found I enjoyed addressing her as 'Mistress' and I earned myself extremely sore breasts to match my bottom from the repeated use of her cane.

At one point she left me for an hour on my knees with her cane in my mouth, telling me that she would know if I moved and certainly if I dropped the cane. Even blind inside the hood I'm sure I could have found it but I resolutely knelt there trying to hold the posture she commanded with my thighs spread wide and my tits pushed forward. I could imagine how this might look to anyone observing me; how it might appear that I was a shameless slut displaying my body for the pleasure of others. On her return, I admitted to moving my position three times as my knees had begun to ache and my legs become stiff, it also put quite a strain on my back. For punishment made me bend forward placing my forehead on the ground and lift my bottom then gave me five strokes for each infraction telling me the tally would rise every day.

Then, she'd administered my tally.

She said nothing about Mistress Astrid and, as a worthless slave, it was not my position to ask. However, although I would have liked to have Astrid punish me, having Inge do it was almost as stimulating.

It is, perhaps, hard to imagine the pleasure a submissive can derive from the whip; although, of course, not all submissives are as masochistic me. The whippings hurt, there is no doubt about that and sometimes I cried with the pain but although, the sharp sting or burn as it struck often made me gasp, the stimulation was intense and the lingering ache strangely erotic as if, in accepting that blow I had demonstrated my submission, confirming it.

After the whipping, I had been commanded to tongue her again and had relished her taste, almost hoping she would reward me with some further humiliation. This is what I had come to do, to relinquish any control over my body, to be a slave, ideally a slave who was sexually fulfilled but, somehow, even that didn't matter now. We might have called this Resqinue and I might fancy myself as Houri, the 'foreign whore' but it was set in the modern world; I was learning to be the perfect submissive, to please my mistress and, ultimately my master, Mark, although all this licking pussy wasn't necessarily going to help me pleasure him even though he might enjoy watching me do it. Whoever owned me would command me and, if that gave me pleasure so much the better. It was, of course, likely that it would give me pleasure; over the last couple of years I had come to associate bondage and humiliation with sexual arousal (I might understand Pavlov intellectually but it didn't make me immune to the effects of his theory); I had come to enjoy the helplessness of being tightly restrained, lead around on a leash like an animal, denied the power of speech by being kept gagged, forced into humiliating acts by threat of punishment.

I'd also learned the pleasure of pain.

Up until this week I think I'd considered myself as an acquaintance of Astrid who was being indulged, allowed to live out her sexual fantasy by being kept in a cage and sexually teased. Somehow, Astrid's absence and Inge's punishment made the submission real and as I'd followed Inge down the stairs from the roof, still hooded and once again restrained and gagged, the smell and taste of her urine in my mouth, my pussy throbbing and knowing that I was subject to any punishment she might decide for me I knew this was going to be the experience my body craved.

I couldn't believe how horny I was.

She left me lying on my back, with my wrists and ankles chained to the roof of my cage, legs spread so that anyone could simply open the door of my cage and access my gaping pussy or, perhaps the other end and, after removing my gag, use my mouth. She hadn't replaced my dildo and I doubted she would; that sexual pleasure was to be denied me.

It reminded me of the images I'd seen of women on Mirkadan rape racks and I spent the night wondering how I might react if I was strapped to one, to be violated, not by those who had permission to use me but by anyone who chose.

Finally, after three days in Inge's care, Mistress Astrid returned to her leashed and very obedient slave. Inge told me she was coming in the morning and, after my morning work out and training session, I knelt waiting my Mistress trying to remember every nuance of how Inge had made me kneel.

'You're posture has improved.' Astrid's voice startled me and I had to fight back the urge to make a comment.

My aching breasts were an ongoing reminder that slaves must be silent unless given permission to speak.

'Stand.'

I obeyed, confident now after Inge's drills though my thighs and calfs ached. Taiarche had taught me something of how to move in restraints, how she pleased Salaxis when in the bedroom with her wrists bound. After Inge's instruction, I barely cared that my hands were cuffed behind my back or that I still wore the toe boots and I was hooded.

'Walk for me.'

I walked forwards and stopped suddenly as I felt a pressure on my belly.

'Not bad.' Astrid seemed amused. 'Now turn and walk back like you are flirting with me.'

I did my best. Turning my head slightly as if looking over my shoulders and swinging my arse all accompanied to the tinkle of my little bell.

'Don't overdo it.' She called. 'Now, come back.'

I turned.

'Strut, you slut.' Astrid shouted. 'Show me those gorgeous tits.'

I thrust my chest forward.

'You're a whore, not a catwalk model. Spread your legs. Sell me your body.'

I did my best to comply.

'Stop. Stand still.'

I stopped.

'Spread your legs and shove your cunt forward.' Astrid certainly had an earth vocabulary. 'Make you master want to stick his fingers in it or even his lovely big cock !' She patted my sex. 'We must get you shaved again.'

I hoped her fingers might slide inside me as I thrust my 'cunt' forward.

'Now, bend over you slut and show me your pussy lips.'

I leant forwards, legs straight, thrusting out my sex.

'If your hands are free, your master would expect you to spread your lips for him.'

She brought her crop down on my buttocks.

'That's for being an obedient girl.'

I longed to thank her. I was so horny.

'Now, let's see what you can do with your tongue. On your knees.'

I obeyed immediately, kneeling up, showing my tits and unable to hide my smile.

I heard the scrape of a chair and imagined Astrid draped over it, legs akimbo, her pussy open. She'd not had time to remove her knickers and I wondered of she was naked.

'Come along, Slave. Mistress is waiting.' I thought I heard the tap of a crop on leather boots.

I leaned forward, extending my tongue and felt my cheek brush something; turning I explored it with my tongue.

Astrid was wearing stockings, rubber ones. I could feel the warmth of her thigh behind the soft material and traced my tongue up to their tops, running following around them and finding what could only be a suspender clip. I followed it up towards her sex.

It turned out she was wearing knickers too, rubber ones.

I thought I would remove them with my teeth but Mistress guided me back between her thighs and I found they had a split crotch, smiling as I stroked her sex with my tongue.

Beyond the rubber, she tasted different to Inge and I wondered if it was possible to tell women apart by tasting them; there was perfume, yes, but there was the smell and taste of her body. Her taste was a little less salty than Inge and I recalled it from my previous encounter; she was less wet than Inge although, perhaps she'd not been disciplining a wayward slave as Inge had usually been doing before I was made to pleasure her.

I urgently wanted to please Mistress Astrid, I wanted it so much it was like being a teenager again with a crush; not that I ever got up to anything like this in my formative years. Perhaps if I'd let my hair down then I wouldn't be quite so sexually promiscuous now.

I tried to remember all Inge's teaching, playing with the blonde's lips and clit; of course, I had Hourishini's memories to draw on too.

I was sorry to discover that she had removed the piercing rings we had both worn as Taiarche's handmaidens. After Inge, the opportunity to tease a clit 'au naturel' was a novel experience.

'Inge's been training you hard.'

I heard the clink of ice in a glass and realised she was lying back enjoying a drink as her slave laboured devotedly between her legs.

I shuddered with pleasure. I was being used as I had hoped to be.

Like a good little slave slut, I toyed with my mistress' pussy, seeking to give her as much pleasure as I could. When she came, it was clearly a type three; her juices squirted into my mouth and run down my chin to drip onto my breasts.

'Good girl.' I could almost see her smile.

Perhaps if she was really pleased she might allow me a little pleasure too.

Perhaps she would piss in my mouth like Inge had.

A girl could dream.

'So, Slave.' It had definitely been a type three, her voice was unsteady. 'Do you approve of what I'm wearing ?'

'Very much so, Mistress.'

'Why don't you describe it to me.'

'It is rubber lingerie, Mistress.'

Thwack !

The crop came down across my breasts.

'I'm expecting a little more detail, Slave.' She'd put that dominant edge on her voice. 'Why don't you start with my boots ?'

And so I did, bending low and examining her boots with my tongue. They were toe boots; ankle high, five straps up the front with little buckles, huge spiked heels. I earned a slap of the whip on the bottom for suggesting they were like the ones locked onto my feet.

'Your boots are designed for slaves you worthless whore.' Astrid told me.

Her stockings were sheer rubber and I ran my tongue up them, savouring their taste and their scent mingled with mistress'. After negotiating the suspenders I explored the knickers worming my tongue into the split in the crotch again.

'I thought you'd already explored that quite thoroughly.'

'I'm just checking, Mistress.'

Thwack !

She leaned over and slapped my bottom with the crop.

The suspenders were attached to a wide suspender belt that I thought must look perfect clinging to her slim waist. Then there was the bra, little cones of rubber stretched over her small neat breasts, the nipples poking through; I licked and kissed each one in turn. They were still pierced.

'You are such a horny slave.'

'I do my best, Mistress.'

That earned me another slap. (I'd tactfully avoided any reference to size when I'd described the bra and her breasts).

I followed the straps of the bra up to her shoulders and then ran my tongue and lips up her neck to the side of her jaw. I wanted to kiss her on the mouth but her hand caught me jaw and held it.

'Inge has clearly been having some fun with you.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'She's been pissing in your mouth hasn't' she.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'I might just have to spank her later.'

'I didn't mind, Mistress.' I really didn't. She'd done it twice and the second time I'd swallowed like a good girl.

'It doesn't matter whether you minded or not.' Astrid squeezed my jaw. 'You are a slave.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Mistress extended her arm pushing me backwards, guiding me to lean back and then lay arched over my cuffed wrists.

'Arch your hip up and spread your knees.'

I obeyed wondering, hoping, Mistress might play with her devoted sex toy. As usual I was extremely horny at being treated like this.

'As before, if your hands were not bound, you master would expect you to spread your cunt for him.'

Her finger stroked my nether lips and I shuddered with pleasure.

She transferred the finger to my mouth and I licked at it lasciviously.

'So you enjoyed having my slutty little maid relieve herself in your mouth.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I continued to lap at her fingers.

'Good.' She withdrew her fingers. 'Because I really need a piss.'


Chapter 7: New Sensations

Despite Mistress Astrid's return, Inge maintained her dominance over me, disciplining me strictly, whipping me if she even thought I was too slow to obey her. Each day, I spent at least an hour learning how to present myself as a slave; Inge ensuring that my knees were spread as wide as possible when I knelt and that I displayed my breasts to their full advantage by kneeling up straight and drawing my hands up to the small of my back. I learned the other positions a slave is supposed to maintain; prostrate with my head on the floor and my bottom lifted, displaying my sex and lying supine as I had for Astrid on my bound arms with my legs folded under me; another position to wantonly display my sex.

Inge also continued my morning routines, my enemas, sometimes washing me though, mostly instead of this, I endured a bucket of cold water after my exercise in the wheel. It was she who put me to bed at night, locking me in my cage diligently removing my intimate piercings every second day to clean them and always struggling to replace them. I assumed this must be because of the continued swelling of my breasts but was surprised it was the same for my clit ring too.

She also gave me most instruction on pussy munching and, in this, she was a very exacting mistress too. I was forced to pleasure her over and over from a variety of positions, sometimes on my knees with her seated or lying on her back, sometimes with me strapped down and her squatting or kneeling over me. Once or twice, she delighted me by strapping me to the rape rack, lying me on my back with my legs spread and my head hanging down so that I was essentially tonguing her upsidedown. She was merciless in her criticism of the way I used my tongue and lips on her using her cane on my breasts or between my thighs or, if I was kneeling with head between my legs, on my buttocks. She regularly exerted her dominance over me by pissing on me, usually in the courtyard or when she gave me lesson up on the roof.

While I enjoyed her attention, I was disappointed it was not Astrid that I was being allowed to please. However, when she was at home, Astrid did deliver my cumulative tally which despite, Inge's frequent punishments, was by far more severe in anything the little maid inflicted on me. Mistress taught me other things too.

She particularly seemed to enjoy making me describe my bondage and the sensations my body was enduring. Keeping me hooded, she continued to make me use my tongue to explore the world around me or touched things to my body, especially my breasts, asking me to describe what I felt.

'Tell me what this is.'

I stuck out my tongue, felt something with the tip, licked it. I could already smell it.

'Rubber, Mistress.'

It was soft and smelt of Astrid.

'What do you think it might be ?' She pressed.

We were having one of her 'training' sessions with me kneeling naked save the boots and mitts and, of course my hood which had been locked on me since the start of my training.

'They're a pair of rubber knickers, Mistress.' They were probably the same pair she'd been wearing the that day she'd come back from where ever she'd been when she'd left me for the three days; the split crotch pair.

'Open your mouth.'

I obeyed and she pushed them inside, my mouth filling instantly with saliva at the taste of rubber and Mistress.

'And what about this ?' She drew something across my breasts; something long, that did not run smoothly across the skin.

'Your ruvver shtockings, Mishdresh.' I said with my mouth full of her knickers.

'Clever girl.'

I beamed.

'Shang you, Mishdresh.'

She stepped behind me and held the stocking over my mouth.

'Open up.'

I opened my mouth and she pulled the stocking between my teeth tying it to hold the knickers in place.

'Posture !' She warned as she finished.

I straightened up again, pulling my shoulders back and lifting my hands into the small of my back as Inge constantly instructed.

'Better.'

I heard her walking round me. If it had been Inge, I would already have felt the slap of her cane across my breasts.

'And what is this ?'

I leant forward wondering how I was supposed to identify anything with my mouth stuffed with rubber lingerie.

Something firm touched my lip and I tilted my head slightly trying to push my tongue out round the gag and making saliva run down my chin inside the hood.

The gag wasn't strict and I could still move my mouth and use my lips, whatever it was would have fitted in my mouth, I traced along it.

It was phallic, of course it was and I traced it back to find the leather straps that held it to Mistress' body.

'You are wearing a sdrab-on, Mishdresh.'

'What a clever little whore you are.' She took hold of my head and forced the tip into my mouth. 'But then I'm sure a slut like you must be very familiar with sex toys like this.'

'Yesh, Mishdress.'

It was at least two weeks since I'd been allowed to cum despite giving Inge several orgasms a day. I really hoped Mistress would use this sex toy on me. If I was allowed to cum, I'd happily accept the label of slut for doing it using a strap on.

'Bend down and lift your bottom.'

I obeyed and felt her touch my bottom.

Then she began to fiddle with my butt plug. It had been locked inside me since Mark had put it there; I'd had the luxury of Inge washing my bowel with enemas since then. I felt it click as she undid the lock and then she slid it out of me.

It was surprisingly erotic.

'How long is it since you've cum, Slave ?' Mistress asked.

'It musht be nearly dwo weeksh, Mishdress.'

'Then I think you deserve to cum now.'

'Shang you, Mishdresh.'

She pushed the tip of the strap on into my anus.

'Ungsh !' It was quite large.

She pushed it up to the hilt.

'We mustn't forget you're going to be owned by a man and we've been rather neglecting your ability to please cock.' She pulled back and thrust again.

'Ungsh.'

'So I want you to cum like the hussy you are on this cock and I'm going to keep pumping your tight little sphincter until you do.'

'Yeshh, Mishdreshh.' I was half way there already.

She pulled back and slapped my bottom with her hand. Then she thrust again.

I can't believe I'm such an anal slut.

After a few thrusts on my hot spasming sphincter, I came almost as quickly as if she'd been fucking my pussy.

After that, it wasn't just pussy I got to lick.

Inge and Astrid used Sven sometimes in my training too, well, parts of him.

I know my way around a cock; well, I know my way round Mark's cock, I've been a good girl for most of my life.

When working on Sven, I was instructed to tease and not let him cum. I'd very nearly given him a blow job once before, after I'd crossed that line of fidelity moving from monogamy with Mark to the adulterous pleasure of my first lesbian encounter with Astrid. In the aftermath of that afternoon, after Mark had returned to find me kneeling at Astrid's feet with her juices on my face he had watched me as my new Mistress had commanded me to suck her husband's cock; on that occasion, he'd stopped me just in time or, perhaps, too soon.

Now, commanded, I moved to suck cock with barely a pause; Mistress speaks and slave obeys.

I did my best not to let him cum; Mistress' husband/male slave spent most of his life in chastity and, I suspect having a big breasted cum slut kneeling at his feet and eager to take his cock in her mouth made him think he'd died and gone to heaven.

An the first occasion, I made him last twenty three minutes according to Inge who was timing; not bad, I'd say; I swallowed then taken my punishment like the submissive slut I am and thanked Mistress for administering it. If I felt any guilt for sucking another man's cock, having Inge take her cane to my tits and Mistress whip my bottom with her crop as I knelt up between them assuaged it; however, although Mark and I share most of our secrets, it was probably one I was going to keep.

Over the next few weeks, I did get better, nuzzling his cock, licking his pre-cum like the whore I was and deep-throating him until I could hear him gasping round his gag, I learnt to keep him edged for over thirty minutes or more, something that my twin trainers seemed happy with.

My mouth wasn't the only hole I was trained to use to pleasure cock; my 'cunt' to use Astrid's vernacular was not in any need of training after the many years of pleasure it had brought my husband but the hole behind it was.

'You have watched porn haven't you, Whore ?' Astrid asked the first time I did this 'out of simulation' as it were using Sven's cock rather than Astrid with her strap on. 'You do know what to do with your arsehole ?'

'Ungg.' I grunted into my gag with a slight nod as I knelt with my legs spread and my head on the floor. Inge had already cuffed my wrists to my ankles and removed my butt plug.

It wasn't my first time with a real cock, of course, Mark had used me this way numerous times in the last year but I did feel a thrill as Sven's cock was guided inside me; it was probably a little bigger than Mark's but then I'd been wearing a butt plug for almost a month and my sphincter had become pretty accommodating.

I heard him grunt as he entered me and I could imagine the big blonde Swede kneeling behind me, naked, probably collared, his arms restrained behind his back and Astrid controlling him by a chain between his nipple rings. He probably thought all his Chirstmasses and birthdays had come at once as Inge encouraged me to 'tease and squeeze', thrusting my arse backwards and then contracting my sphincter.

Mark tells me he enjoys anal sex because the tight ring around his cock stops him coming too quickly and he can make it last. I think he also likes the opportunity to play with my tits as he fucks me.

Sven, of course, was denied access to my breasts but I know he still enjoyed it even if he did last twelve minutes before cumming his load.

I had to smile around my gag as I heard Astrid chastising him severely and telling him that his punishment was to stay inside me and that I was going to squeeze his cock every twenty seconds for the rest of the half hour. After cumming, he was clearly very sensitive and I could hear him moaning into his gag as I constricted my sphincter mercilessly until he was allowed to pull it out of me.

After that, anal training became a daily occurrence and when it wasn't Sven's cock, it was Astrid or Inge with the strap on. With Inge, these encounters were very much like her other training, rigid and demanding but with Mistress they were more gentle and I loved the intimacy that these brought; Mistress Astrid pushing the dildo in and out gently stretching me as her hands roamed across my body, cupping my breasts and toying with my nipple rings. This did, of course, bring me to orgasm rather too easily; I could sometimes hide the type ones but the twos and threes were obvious and the sessions thus usually ended with me kneeling up and taking the crop across my breasts.

Once or twice, both of them were involved.

'You may have to please a couple one day, Slave.'

I didn't think it very likely but with Mistress fucking me from behind I applied my tongue diligently to Inge's pussy. Having Astrid's hands on my breasts proved quite distracting and more than once, Inge had to guide me back onto task only for Astrid to slap my bottom and tell me I wasn't squeezing tightly enough. I wondered how she knew. As I knelt between them, they talked to each other in Swedish and I got the distinct impression that they were flirting.

I forced myself to suppress my jealousy.


Chapter 8: Filthy Slut

Being treated like this, even with the orgasms that the training brought, kept me in a state of broiling arousal that left me simmering and squirming when I was locked in my cage at night. There were days when I felt so desperate to orgasm that begged to feel the whip between my legs in the hope that the blade might catch my pussy in a way that would give me the climax my body craved. Unbelievable as this may sound, there were occasions, usually up on the roof when I lay on my back and Inge caned my pussy that I came two or three times, biting down on my gag so that cruel mistress might not notice the spasms of joy in my helpless squirming body.

When I'd first discovered the joys of bondage, I'd soon realised that the stricter it was, the more I enjoyed it. As time went on, I'd come to understand there was more to enjoy than being tied up; I began to enjoy humiliation and pain. Now, although I was being kept in constant bondage, it was not as strict as I was used to unless I was being punished; now it was the way I was being treated that excited me. The bondage was almost secondary, a casual afterthought that facilitated Professor Sally Frost being reduced to Houri, the sex slave.

The mitts and boots and the cuffs that held them in place had rings that could be used to immobilise me easily. Most of the time, the tips of the mitts were clipped together behind my back, easy to release if I was told to crawl on my leash and easy to refasten if Inge or Astrid wanted to immobilise me; they could keep me in place by simply clipping my ankle cuffs together. Sometimes my mitts were locked to my boots putting my into a fairly lax hogtie or forcing me to stay down on my knees with my legs spread and my arms between them. If they really wanted me to stay put, they clipped a chain to one of my nipple rings or my clit ring or my nose ring; I found it deliciously humiliating by being restrained in this way.

At night I was usually kept in my cage as lightly restrained; there was no way I could free myself even if my mistresses could do it easily. If I hadn't performed well for Inge, she sometimes bound my arms in a leather sheath that was a bit like a single glove but only covered my forearms; this forced my elbows together. On these occasions, like on the first night of my slave training, I was usually forced to kneel in my cage with my legs spread and my wrists locked to the bars of the cage's roof. I was usually immobilised in a head harness too.

However I was restrained, my thighs were always kept spread, either by a spreader bar or by cuffs chaining them to the side of my cage; needless to say my hands were also kept well away from my pussy. It was intensely frustrating.

'And what is this ?'

I reached out blindly with my mitted hands and felt something firm. Awkwardly, I took it, holding it between my restrained hands and lifted it to my mouth. It was long and thin and it didn't take much to figure out what it was.

'It's a dildo, Mistress.' I said with a laugh, sliding it between my lips suggestively. 'About two inches, I think. It's certainly smaller than that three inch ball gag Inge likes to use.'

'Clever girl.' Astrid took the dildo from me. 'What about this ?'

She held something to my lips and I probed it with my tongue.

'You crop, Mistress.' I smiled. 'Would you like me to bend over.'

'You are a very impudent slave.' Astrid told me. 'If I want you to bend over, I will tell you.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

She slapped my breast with the crop.

'What about this ?'

I felt something slide over my breasts.

I quested for it with my tongue but found nothing.

Whatever it was brushed my right nipple.

'You're teasing me, Mistress.'

'I certainly am.'

She brushed it across my left nipple several times.

'Some sort of material ?' I speculated.

Slap ! The crop came down again.

'You'll have to do better than that.'

She slid it across my breasts again.

'Something silky.' I turned my head. 'A stocking ?'

'Well done.' She laughed. 'And this ?'

I pushed out my tongue and felt something light, soft. I could smell Astrid's scent on it.

'These are your knickers, Mistress.'

'And this ?' She stroked something over my right breast, something hard. 'I'll give you a clue, there are two of them.'

I thought I heard the rattle of a chain.

'Perhaps this will help.'

Something closed over my right nipple.

'Oh.' I gasped.

Then my left nipple.

'I guess you've worked it out now.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

It was a while since I'd worn clip on nipple pendants. Younger Mirkardan women tend to wear them a lot but many older ones are pierced and clip jewels to their nipple rings.

The same is true for clit jewelry.

'I'll leave them there to remind you what they feel like.'

'Mistress is too kind.' I shook my chest making my breasts bounce and the nipple clamps jingle. It made a change from the tinkle of the little bell that hung from my nose ring.

'Are you flirting with my slave ?'

'Would Mistress like her whore to please her ?'

'I love it when you talk dirty.' She teased.

I really had changed from the rather prim professor who had first visited Mirkada three years before.

'Your submissive cunt aims to please you, Mistress.' Sometimes I felt like a schoolgirl with crush when I knelt in her presence; I would do anything to please her.

'Final test for today.'

She held something to my lips. It smelt strongly of her. I stuck out my tongue and tasted it. It was the dildo again but now it tasted of Mistress.

'It's been inside you, hasn't it, Mistress.'

'And now it's going inside you.' She pushed it into my mouth pressing it deeper until it was right down in my throat. A month before I would have gagged at being treated like this. When she pulled it out I gasped.

'You have no idea how horny I am right now having my little cunt down on her knees in front of me with a sex toy in her mouth.'

I turned my head towards her. If she was as wet as I was, she was moments from ordering me to plunge my tongue into her box.

'I think it's time for a little fun, don't you ?' She pulled the dildo out of my mouth.

'Yes, Mistress.' I licked my lips.

'Come and lick me.'

I leaned forward dropping onto my hands, my bell jingling; my breasts heavy underneath me, the chain between my nipple clamps just adding to that sensation. I put out my tongue and found Mistress, licking bare skin. I explored with my tongue and realised I was licking her buttock and that she must be down of all fours too, facing away from me. I dropped down, questing blindly for her slit and found it, licking the salty wetness.

'I want you a little higher this time, you filthy slut.'

'I licked higher.'

'Higher.'

I knew what she wanted. I wanted it too though it should have repulsed me.

I felt the ring of her anus, the roughness of her sphincter.

'Good girl.' Mistress' voice was a little strained.

There was movement below my chin, I sensed it as much as felt it, I felt Astrid's body move too; she had obviously slipped the dildo back inside herself.

'Come along, you little slut.' Mistress said with a breathy voice. 'Don't be shy.'

I probed at her anus, pushing against it with my tongue.

'Good girl. A little harder.'

My tongue pushed its way through, a little anyway.

'Oh, yes.' Astrid called out.

Somewhere below my chin she was pumping the dildo in and out of her pussy as I licked out her anus. It took all my willpower not to not to rub my own drooling slit.

Then she gasped pushing her bottom back into my face in what must have been at least a type three. I felt her sphincter constrict around my tongue as she cried out.

'Oh, good girl.' Astrid was panting still pumping the dildo frantically into her own cunt; she climaxed again then slowly crawled away from me.

I felt dirty, degraded and unbearably horny, kneeling expectantly, hoping Mistress would let me cum too.

'Now, lie on your back and open your mouth.' She said. 'Mistress needs a piss.'


Chapter 9: Pleasure and Pain

I stood quivering with pain, blinking back the tears inside my hood.

I had just reached two hundred and fifty lashes and, with a mix of six or twelve a day, was well into the second month of my training. Mistress had told Inge to deliver my punishment and, as with all Inge's discipline, it had been much more intense. Astrid's whippings frequently left me in tears but, today, Inge's had been particularly brutal leaving me gasping around my gag. Astrid usually spread the stroke across my body but Inge had concentrated almost exclusively on my upper back. She had also cuffed me with my arms up rather than at my side which somehow seemed to make me feel more vulnerable.

Though she'd kept me gagged, using the jawbreaking plug; she'd still insisted I count and even paused as Astrid did at six making me beg to continue.

Now, having begged to be whipped, I was almost sobbing and ready to beg her to stop.

'Bzh Mzdz, ng m.' The plug gag was almost totally effective at reducing a slave's vocabulary to the grunt of an animal.

'Is Slave asking for another twelve ?' She asked innocently.

'Nnngg.' I shook my head violently, spit no doubt flying from my gag; my back and shoulders burning and drenched with sweat; inside the hood I was screwing up my eyes to control my hot tears.

My only consolation was the ever present heaviness in my sex the familiar pull on my labia from the dildo inside me. Even as I had jerked and cried out into my gag, it the movements of the phallus that almost constantly penetrated me had served as a reminder of why I was here of the fierce sexual desire that being treated like this kindled within me; of me craving for total submission.

'Zhng n, Mzdz.' I thanked her almost automatically now although, I truly meant it; I was grateful for her brutal dominance.

'Tomorrow I will whip your breasts.' She whispered as she ran her rubber gloved finger tips over on my shaking body, idly tracing them down my back then following whipmarks she had left.

I guessed that Mistress Astrid was about to go away again and though part of me feared what Inge might do, another part of me yearned once again for the abject torment in which the maid would, no doubt, keep me.

'Yz, Mzdz.'

After the pain, I enjoyed the almost surreal experience of joining my two mistresses for lunch although I was kept hooded and chained and ate from a bowl on the floor while Mistress Astrid and Inge sat at the table. They fed me tidbits from their plates and then I joined them for coffee; well, I knelt on all fours with Mistress' legs resting on my back while she and Inge drank coffee. I had no way of telling whether Inge knelt beside me or sat alongside her mistress in her little rubber dress.

Inge's promise to whip my breasts was a substantive one; Mistress Astrid told me that she was away for a week or two. She'd left me before but only few a few days; now she seemed to be going away and leaving me with her sadistic maid.

'I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun together.' Astrid said, uncrossing and recrossing her legs on my back.

'I'm sure we will, Mistress.' Inge said with mischief in her voice.

I longed to ask how long she would be gone or where she was going. Back to Sweden, I assumed.

'But before I go, I think there's time for another lesson, don't you, Inge ?'

I imagined Mistress winking at her maid and my nipples stiffened reflexively.

'Did you know, Inge that in Mirkada, young women make themselves attractive by eating peaches.' Astrid told me, stroking her fingers over the smooth hood. 'The peach is a symbol of sexual maturity...and desire.'

I remembered Houri buying peaches in market; her first day out in the vilisqaz on achieving majority.

'Inge, pass me that peach.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Mistress lifted her legs off my back.

'Kneel up, Slave.'

I obeyed, sliding my hands behind me into the small of my back and pulling my shoulders back as Inge had taught me.

'Bite it, Slave.'

I leant forward, feeling the soft velvety skin of the peach with my tongue and lips.

I guessed this would probably end slightly better than my experience as Houri; although, on that occasion, I had met Mark in the dream.

I bit down, tasting the sweetness of the juices and feeling them run down my chin inside the hood.

'Again.'

I bit again though the flesh from my first bite was still in my mouth. It tasted wonderful.

'More.'

I did obeyed, the flesh of the peach filling my mouth and making it impossible to retain the juice. I could feel it running down onto my chest.

'A good Mirkardan girl can tempt a man with a peach.' Astrid told me as I chewed. 'And when she has him in her power, she will make the juices run over her breasts expecting him to lick it off.'

I knelt waiting for my Mirkadan knight in shining armour; perhaps Mistress might be tempted.

I was sure I could feel peach juice dripping off my nipples.

I smiled and swallowed but not before I made a little more of the juice escape from my lips.

'Inge.' Astrid said suddenly. 'As we don't have a Mirkadan man to hand would you mind ?'

'Of course not, Mistress.'

The little maid's tongue was on my nipples in an instant. She must have been kneeling beside her mistress. Her tongue was hot and eager and she licked me repeatedly.

Although she handled me intimately on a daily basis and frequently touched or stroked me as she did so, her caresses were brief. However, now she showed no reticence and when she'd licked both my nipples and my breasts clean, she took my left nipple into her mouth, holding it with her teeth and flicking the ring with her tongue.

I moaned.

'Inge. Why don't you remove the whore's plug.'

'Yes Mistress.' Inge was clearly enjoying herself. 'May I bind her ?'

'Of course.'

She reached round and clipped the rings on my mitts together then she pushed me gently backwards so I lay with my legs folded under me and my back arched over my bound arms. Like the hot slut I am, I wriggled to spread my thighs as wide as I could.

Inge's fingers lifted my pussy lock and then undid it, sliding it free; then she eased the heavy plug out of my sex. Her tongue was in its place immediately and I moaned again squirming with pleasure as she teased my drooling pussy. In a few moments I was close to orgasm.

'That will do.'

I almost howled in frustration, realising that I was panting, my chest heaving.

'Now, Slave, I think you should return the favour.'

I might have said something very unsubmissive about being left hanging but I behaved like an obedient slave.

'Inge come here and lift your skirt.' Astrid patted the sofa and I heard the creak of leather as the maid sat down; I took it as read that Inge wouldn't be wearing knickers.

'Slave !' Astrid said. 'Over here.'

I struggled to kneel up and then crawled forward, my hands still cuffed behind me.

My head was guided and my tongue tasted pussy.

I knew it was Astrid immediately.

'This isn't Inge's pussy, Mistress...' I said although I continued to lick it eagerly.

'Clever girl, why don't you lick it anyway.' Astrid said with a satisfied sigh.

'Yes, Mistress.'

My tongue stroked her pussy.

Inge had been thorough in my training and I was eager to show Mistress how much I learned.

I'm pretty sure I gave Astrid had a type three. She certainly seemed pleased, quivering with pleasure and grabbing my head as she climaxed. Afterwards, I felt her kiss the top of my head.

'Now, I think you deserve to cum too.' She said as she recovered.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

'Lie back then and think of England as you say.' She laughed.

I lay back down on my bound arms and spread my legs.

'You can cum if you can tell me who's toes these are.'

I felt something touch my pussy, teasing it, stroking it.

'They're yours Mistress. ' It was a bit of an educated guess but I had become more attuned to the subtleties of what went on around me after six weeks or so inside the hood.

'Clever girl. Looks like you do get to cum after all.' She sounded pleased. 'But I think Inge deserves some fun too.'

I felt something against my mouth and licked.

Inge's toes.

And so I lay back being fucked by my mistress' toes and sucking her maid's for all I was worth.

It was bliss and it seemed to go on for a very long time until Inge interrupted my pleasure.

'Please Mistress.' I heard the maid ask; there was an urgency to her voice.

'Of course, Inge.'

The toes in my mouth disappeared and a moment later Inge's soaking pussy replaced them, her thighs spread across my face.

I was feeling magnanimous.

I licked her for all I was worth even as my own orgasm swept through me. It was easily a three; almost a four; Mistress clearly had very talented toes. I barely noticed when Inge pissed in my mouth.

With Astrid gone, Inge was left with free reign to bind, torment and otherwise abuse my helpless and oh-so-willing body. Although I had come to Astrid's house eager to be her sexy slave toy, I had become increasingly excited by the unremitting dominance her strict maid imposed upon me. Unlike Astrid who, although she punished me, teased and cajoled, Inge dominated me sternly accepting nothing less than utter obedience and any infraction earned the abuse of her ever present cane.

Left alone with the maid, my submission become total as I was forced to be the perfect slave, displaying my body to her in the submissive postures she commanded, kneeling with by back straight and tits out or with my legs spread and my pussy on display; moving instantly from one position to another; to crawl at her side and to walk on the leash like a the whore I was, selling my body. When commanded to please her, my tongue was expected to perform perfectly and when she delivered a golden shower I was not permitted to spill a drop. My night time bondage became stricter; Inge liked to see a slave properly restrained. She used more intense restraint during the day too often making me wear the leather armbinder all day and, I think, binding me for her pleasure. I spent several afternoons on the rape rack, usually with a strap on in one of my orifices.

However she liked to play with her slave whore, she particularly seemed to enjoy abusing my breasts and, even when not correcting me with her cane she clearly enjoyed slapping my 'big funbags' as she called them. They ached almost constantly and with these added torments she ensured they were continually tenderised; at night she began to cage me with my breasts crushed in a heavy wooden press; she used it during the day too, usually making me kneel or stand, locked in place with the wooden bars pinning my huge melons. When they were not clamped or otherwise being abused she took to binding them, tightening leather straps about their bases and leaving me like that until my breasts were throbbing as if about to burst open; sometimes she added other straps to further confine them. I recalled seeing Raximalik's wife wearing vilisqaz that did this, her augmented breasts less resembling their usual two jutting mounds and more like swollen and slightly blue pumpkins; the flesh straining against the tight straps that confined them. It was apparently fashionable in the nineties when more modern culture reached Mirkada and some of the women started to have implants; they were known colloquially as 'party balloons'.

Of course, in torturing my breasts she did not spare my nipples, pinching or sometimes biting them; for much of the time Astrid was away I wore nipple clamps or clip on Mirkadan nipple pendants most of which were a lot heavier than any I was used to.

Inge gave me no choice about how many strokes to endure when she delivered my tally; a dozen became standard, usually delivered to a single part of my body; breasts, buttocks, back, belly; on one occasion, she removed my boots and whipped the soles or my bare feet, twelve to each side as I lay on the rape rack; she used the rape rack when she whipped my sex too.

'Do you think I am too strict with you ?' She asked me one day as I lay sobbing on my back, my breasts bound, nipples clamped and my pussy throbbing from twelve strokes between my spread thighs.

'Ngg Mzdz.' I shook my head blinking away the tears that filled my eyes inside the hood.

'Good.'

She delivered another dozen leaving my sex burning and then made my thank her by removing my gag and making me tongue her to orgasm four times through the afternoon.

Needless to say, by the time I'd brought her to a final climax with the taste of her filling my mouth, the agony of the whipping was gone leaving me as a submissive little slut who was being treated exactly how she wanted to be and I thanked her like a good slave should.


Chapter 10: Pretty Whore

However, it wasn't the whippings or breast bondage that caused me the most pain.

After a morning session in the roof (including a golden shower) and a good work out in the water wheel, I found myself strapped to the rape rack where I expected an afternoon of cunnilingus or practice fellatio.

I should have realsied I was in for a special treat from the way Inge used extra straps around my belly and thighs to pin me down and the huge plug gag she forced into my mouth before removing my vaginal plug. I was left like this for a few minutes and then I heard Inge come back accompanied by someone else, a woman; I recognised the voice. They were talking in Mirkadan and I heard Inge confirm that I had consented to the treatment; the other woman said that the first stage would take most of the afternoon and that she other two-whatever-they-weres could be done the another day.

Fingers brushed my sex and it felt like cords were being passed through my labial rings then my labia were drawn apart; the visitor seemed happy with the way Inge had arranged me.

Then came the pain; intense and stabbing, stabbing repeatedly into my labia, tiny teeth or needles pricking my most sensitive parts. I screamed into my gag, gurgling and squirming but the straps held my lower half fixed and though my thigh muscles strained and I tightened my abs, there was nothing I could do. However, to keep me from struggling more, my head was pulled down sharply and tied there by the ring of the bridle; so that my neck was painfully extended, pulled back with my head almost under by shoulders.

I lay enduring, waiting, hoping for the pain to stop but it continued other than brief moments of respite.

After a few minutes, I was covered in cold sweat despite the heat and I couldn't stop myself whimpering into my gag but I was shown no mercy and the promise that it would take most of the afternoon seemed to be correct.

Both my labia were punished, my right first, then my left, then my right again; repeated needling until I thought that perhaps my nether lips were being covered in hundreds of tiny piercings.

When the woman had finished, I lay sobbing, my body bathed in sweat barely aware of Inge showing the woman to the door and then returning, or of her fingers gently caressing my wracked, burning sex and then of her breath on it, gently soothing.

The strap holding my neck cruelly extended was released and then the gag removed.

When I was given water, I begged her to release me.

'Please, Mistress.' I wept. 'I cannot bear this.'

She stroked the side of my head, holding me against her breasts and comforting me.

'The pain will pass my hot little whore.' She told me gently. 'And Mistress will be pleased.'

Even that did not feel quite enough but I accepted her comfort.

'Yes, Mistress.'

I accepted more water.

Then she released me from the rack but did not free my hands and even used a chain from my collar to pull them up into the small of my back.

I spent the night on my belly with a pillow under my loins lifting my bottom onto the air and my legs held apart by spreader bars. I think I was on a bed, it certainly felt soft but I could barely move because of the various straps and ropes that were used to keep me in position.

I slept little despite the relative comfort because of the throbbing in my labia. It also felt oddly empty without the vaginal plug although my butt-plug remained firmly in place and my plug gag went back in.

In the morning I was fearful that the process would be repeated and, when she fed me, I begged Inge not to punish me that severely again even telling her I would tell Astrid what she had done. She laughed telling my that it had been Mistress Astrid's idea and if I wanted to please my mistress and become a real slave I would have to endure what she commanded.

Then she whipped me for being a whore and a snitch.

However, my pussy was left alone for that day and the next then, on the third day it happened again; not on the rape rack this time but strapped with my back to a stone pillar and not my labia but my breasts or, more accurately my areoles. The same stabbing pain on my right breast, slowly, meticulously working its way around my nipple with excruciating slowness. It wasn't nearly as bad as having it done to my labia; I breast fed my kids, I can take nipple torture although I was sweating again by the time the torment was finished.

I was also pretty sure I knew what was being done to me.

When the stranger left, Inge kissed my nipples and blew on them gently.

Then she removed my gag.

'You are beautiful, my little slave whore.'

'Thank you, Mistress.'

Three days later I was strapped to a post on my knees and my forehead to keep my head still and my mouth stretched tightly around a very large ball gag that took both Inge and the stranger almost a minutes to work into my mouth. Then the process was repeated on my lips (the ones round the gag).

'Inge has been working hard.' Astrid said as her maid lead me round the room, making me strut like the slave whore I was for my mistress.

She stopped me with her cane across my belly and then tapped the back of my knee making me drop instantly holding my cuffed hands in the small of my back; I hoped my breasts bounced with suitable allure.

I knelt awaiting Mistress' pleasure listening to Inge's heels disappear into the distance. After two weeks under Inge's domination and not a single orgasm, I was suddenly desperate for her touch.

'I might start dressing you in rubber.' Mistress stroked the side of my chest, her fingertip sliding round onto my breast then tracing over the areole.

I'm proud to say my nipples stood to attention as expected; it's not many girls can say they can move the rings in their nipples without the use of their hands.

The expectation of Mistress dressing me for her pleasure excited me and I couldn't help smiling as I wondered what she might be wearing. It was several days since the strange needle torture had been inflicted on my lips and they still tingled when I moved them. I'd been allowed to speak to Inge a couple of times and, on those occasions, speaking certain words had felt slightly awkward; they were still clearly swollen; I guessed my nipples and my lower lips were the same; they were all tingling. I wanted to ask Mistress what had happened, even though I thought I knew but she started talking about seeing my body in tight rubber and my mind flitted on to this.

Perhaps I might get a rubber bra, it would certainly be welcome, my breasts were constantly aching and a little support might just ease this although unless it was thick rubber or reinforced by leather it would be no real help, simply turning my breasts into shiny back rubber balls. As well as the daily abuse they'd suffered from Inge, I was sure my breasts were swelling, almost daily it felt like sometimes. They were certainly heavier though, of course I' had no opportunity to see or even touch them for over two months. Before I'd become a half naked sex slave, I was a girl who needed solid underpinnings, I'd frequently worn three bras when at the gym to avoid too much swing.

Still fantasising about rubber lingerie, I was commanded to describe Mistress' clothes; it was the rubber lingerie again, complete with rubber stockings and stiletto heels.

My new rubber 'vilisqaz' (I use the term loosely, it was a little like defining a shoestring bikini as a swimming costume) seemed designed to show I was naked and was very much a 'bedroom' vilisqaz; a brief, skimpy garment that only a whore would wear in the street. It consisted of little more than thick rubber bands, tight around the bases of my breasts; not quite enough to make them party balloons but certainly enough to make them ache; at least when they were swollen they were firmer although I dreaded to think what would happen afterwards.

Did a Mirkardan professor's salary run to plastic surgery ? If not, perhaps I could sell my body as a whore to supplement my university income.

The briefs were essentially crotchless hotpants; basically a band at my waist and two more at the tops of my thighs emphasising my thigh gap and leaving my sex and buttocks completely bare.

It was, it turned out, a party dress of sorts because several days later I was lead through the streets by Astrid in the full outfit, restrained with by my mitts clipped behind me (and suitably lifted to make my tits stick out) and balanced on my Mirkadan toe boots; needless to say I was gagged (the huge plug) and bridled (over my hood of course) and she lead me by my nose ring. As it was a special occasion, I wore nipple pendants (rather heavy clip-on ones, despite my piercing) and a clip on clit pendant too. I was, of course plugged 'fore and aft', my dildo flip-flopping in my pussy with every steps and a new (larger) butt plug filling my rear end.

I was in heaven !


Chapter 11: Sex Toy

I was pretty sure I knew where we were going and, sure enough after a (much longer than necessary) walk through the crowded streets of Mirkada, we reached the old palace. I could tell it by the sounds of the square and the chiming of the clock, a little after six, one of the busiest times in Mirkada. Everyone in the city was soon going to know how much of a slut I'd become; I might be hooded but everyone would recognise my smooth pale skin. Even if I wasn't dressed like a whore, the hood was not part of normal Mirkadan clothing even if Jazirina had used one of Hourishini when she took her out of the palace. The outward looking citizens, those who were in touch with the world beyond the city wall would have seen to headlines in the English papers, the condemnation of my 'kinkiness'; they'd have seen the pictures of me in bondage at home too and would know this was a fetish thing. Kinky sex in Mirkada, heavily laced with bondage was hardly uncommon but there was a growing sense among some quarters that the city had become a focus for a very kinky sort of sex tourism. While many welcomed the trade this brought, others felt it undermined the city's traditions.

The evening was still warm and, by the time we entered the cool interior of the wing which now functioned as the town hall, I was sweating and flushed; the dildo moving about in my pussy and the nipple pendants really hadn't helped this; nor had the utter humiliation of this treatment; naturally, I'd strutted like the whore I was every step of the way.

Inside building, my sweat cooled on body in sharp contrast to heat inside my hood. The click of my heels echoed from the walls as I was lead through a large empty sounding hallway and up a flight of stairs. The party was clearly an intimate affair, not in the main hall and I suddenly heard music and laughter.

'Astrid !' It was Taiarche.

'Taia !'

I heard them kiss.

'I've brought you a gift.' Astrid jerked my leash and I stepped forward.

'I hope it's house trained.' Taiarche said with a laugh.

'I've thought of that.' Astrid turned me slightly presumably displaying my butt plug.

'Nice touch.' Taiarche said. 'How often do I need to change it ?'

'About once a month.'

They both laughed.

'I like these.' Taiarche said, her finger touching my breasts and tracing around my nipples. 'And these are gorgeous.' She pulled my nipple ring.

'Solid gold.'

'Very solid.' Taiarche laughed again and tugged harder on my nipple ring.

I got the impression I was attracting quite a crowd; I could hear voices speaking in Mirkadan, all women's. I heard the words 'foreign whore' more than once and 'the slut from the university'.

'You've been training her hard.' Taiarche's fingers (at least I think the were hers) traced over my buttock following what I imagined was the line of a whipmark; Inge had targeted my buttocks for the last three days.

'We've made five hundred.' Astrid said placing her hand on my other buttock and gently squeezing. 'Though I had promised her another hundred for being such a good girl but now she's yours I'll leave that to you.'

'Ung !' I made a very quiet sound around my huge plug gag.

Had Mistress just given me away ?

Was that legal ? Surely not. Slavery was illegal in Mirkada, though thralldom wasn't exactly outlawed.

'It's a very generous gift.' Taiarche said, obviously pleased. 'And I think I have the perfect place to show it off.'

I knew where we were !

There was a jerk on my nose ring and I followed obediently, trailing no doubt behind Taiarche as hands reached out to touch my body, brushing my breasts, setting my nipple pendants swinging, stroking my thighs and cupping my bottom.

The dais was just where I'd remembered it. I'd knelt on it as Hourishini, displayed beside my queen as she held her 'small' court ! Mounting it made me tremble with excitement; it was as if all this training, my resqinue, had been a preparation for this moment. Being kept in Houri's cage when I'd been prepared for role as Taiarche's handmaiden had thrilled me but now, being displayed in public like the little foreign whore made me tremble with excitement. (As a historian, I've always been a bit scathing of re-enactors but suddenly, I understood why they did it). I knelt there with my back straight and legs spread wide showing my tits and my pussy as the leash to my nose ring was tied off.

If Taiarche's friends had indulged in a little frotage as I walked past them, they now handled me openly cupping my breasts and playing with my nipple pendants; unseen hands slid between my legs and explored my intimate piercings tugging at the bar that locked my sex closed and setting my clit pendant swinging; others pressed on my butt plug and squeezed my buttocks; a few slapped my bottom.

They all gasped when I came.

I couldn't help it. It was a type three, even the huge plug couldn't stop the string of gasps the sudden climax forced out of my helpless body.

'Not that well trained.' Taiarche said archly.

'Perhaps it needs a little more work.' Astrid said. Then I heard her whisper. 'But perhaps you should punish me for giving you something less than perfect.'

'I'll consider it.'

A gong rang and dinner was announced.

I was left alone on display, panting and rather hoping they would come back.

I was abandoned for what must have been an hour; then, as the meal progressed and the spiced wine flowed, every ten or fifteen minutes I would hear the click of heels coming towards me and then feel hands on my body. Shouts of approval and, sometimes, disapproval arose from the table. With my limited Mirkadan, I didn't understand them all but, needless to say, the ones I could translate were fairly 'fruity'. I was called a 'big-titted slut' and a 'cum-whore' and a 'thrall-cunt' (that's my best translation) among other things and those that came to play with me unsurprisingly targeted nipples, my breasts and my buttocks. By the time desert was announced the party was in full swing and I wasn't surprised when something chilled and wet landed on my breast followed immediately by a tongue which licked it off again.

'Poor whore.' A voice said in accented English. I assumed this was the one who'd just licked her desert off my breast. Fingers touched my lips where they were stretched round the brutal plug and, a moment later I tasted something sweet. 'Taia !' The voice said. 'I hope you're not going to keep the poor slut gagged all night.'

There was a burst of drunken laughter.

'I can find use for a whore-tongue.' Someone said.

There was more laughter.

Fingers traced over my breasts. 'She's drooling like a bitch on heat.'

'From everywhere ?' Another voice said as a hand reached between my legs.

I guess the podium on which I was kneeling was wet too.

'Gushing like a well.' The voice announced.

'It's not the only one.' The girl with the pudding said. 'I bet that tongue is well trained.'

'Please, Queen Jazirina !' The other woman said in a sarcastic tone. 'Let your loyal subjects have some fun with little Houri.'

'Alright, Khiliania.' Taiarche said. 'Take it's gag out and bring it over here; but I'm first.'

'Of course, Your Majesty.' The voice continued in its sarcastic tone.

There had been mutterings about Taiarche going about unbound; strictly speaking, as the governor's wife, she was allowed to do it but tradition dictated she should succumb to the vilisqaz; all in the city knew that the last woman to flout tradition so openly had been Jazirina herself. Perhaps, Taiarche was styling herself after the cruel queen.

Khiliania or perhaps her companion undid my bridle then began to work the huge plug out of my mouth.

'Fuck !' I heard gasps of admiration. 'It's huge.'

'I could use that to pleasure myself.' There was more laughter.

I felt someone unclip my mitts but kept them behind my back like the submissive slut I am.

'Come along, Whore.'

There was a sharp tug on my nose ring, enough to make my eyes water and make the bell jingle. I dropped to all fours and, climbing down from the dais, followed my leash crawling on my hands and knees on the smooth hard marble floor. In front of me, a chair scraped and hands guided my head forwards. I didn't need this help, I could smell it; Taiarche's pussy was wet and warm and I licked it obediently, tracing my tongue round it, locating her little button and remembering where it was so I could flick it later. Then I got to work, lapping and teasing and pushing my tongue inside just a little to give her a taste of what was to come. For a previously confirmed heterosexual who in the last few months had reaslised she was rampantly bisexual I had found myself lapping pussy almost constantly recently and doing it with increasing enthusiasm.

Drunk as she was, Taiarche took a fair amount of work but I think she was making it difficult for me, shifting her weight and making me follow her movements blindly with my tongue; but she succumbed in the end; a lovely type three which had her howling and provoked a cheer from her friends.

'You filthy slut.' She whispered to me. 'I'll punish you for that lewd display later.'

I think she was pleased. I could imagine her red-faced and panting, her nipples stiff and her pussy drooling onto her chair.

'My turn.' A voice called; pudding girl, I think.

'You're welcome to it.' Taiarche said and my leash was jerked away to the left.

Pudding girl tasted sweet and I guessed she'd rubbed her sticky fingers over her bare pussy at some point in the evening. She had lovely plump and very (I mean, Very) sensitive labia. She climaxed almost immediately and then kissed me on the lips, before licking them.

'I wish someone would give me a present like this.' She said, her voice surprisingly unsteady.

'Oh Muxaliq, we all know you'd prefer to be the present.' A voice said quietly.

'Khiliania !' Pudding girl said affronted. Then her voice softened to a whisper. 'But you're right.'

I was dragged away and my tongue once again pressed into service.

And that is how I spent the evening or, at least the next few hours; confronted by one pussy after another; forced lick and tease each one until I had satisfied it. I recognised Astrid, of course (and took a face full of her juices) and I did Taiarche a second time. From the cries and gasps around me, I got the impression I wasn't the only one offering this service or, perhaps, the ladies were giving each other some mutual pleasure.

Then, long after the clock had chimed midnight someone (my favourite pudding girl, Muxaliq, I think) suggested I have a little fun too.

Taiarche unlocked my sex and, kneeling on my dais, I was forced to perform an impromptu floor show. It had been so long since I'd been allowed to touch myself, I was a little unsure how to begin but my tingling nipples soon drew my attention and, I was very quickly playing with my breasts; they were bigger, I was sure of it. Frustratingly, my hands were still locked in the mitts and I had to resort to teasing my nipples with the rings at their tips clumsily knocking off the nipple pendants as I did. I soon discovered that, with my mouth free, I could lift my breasts to my lips and kiss and bite them myself though try as I might, I couldn't quite reach my nipple with my tongue.

After that, my hands went right down between my legs. It was blissful although, sadly rather short lived. It was Taiarche herself who stopped me but provided me with an alternative.

I'd come across references to Houri's seat and, in a way, I sat on it.

Houri's seat was a dildo mounted on a pole that the foreign whore was frequently made to sit upon and 'display her wantonness' to Jazarina's court. If my dream was to be believed, the girl had even lost her virginity on it in the bathhouse, much to the pleasure of Jazarina and the other handmaidens Rohinia and Engara.

It seemed only fitting that, as a 'slut from the university', I give them a historical demonstration.

With my mitted hands playing with my nipples (the pendants duly replaced), I brought myself to a perfect type four, pumping on the phallic mount for all I was worth and climaxing loudly, strongly and for a very long time before my legs gave out under me and hands lifted me off the impaling device to lay me down for a few minutes recovery.

After that, I did another round of pussies but was past my best and most of the 'ladies' were too drunk or tired to fully enjoy it.

I think the party broke up about three in the morning and, as I lay slumped and forgotten for a moment (and too exhausted to play with myself despite having the freedom to do so) I could hear male voices and the sounds of women being strapped into vilisqaz; mouths being gagged, giggles as some husbands inserted dildos and butt plugs.

I got a good night kiss from Muxaliq, a long lingering tongue and the press of full firm breasts and silky soft young skin dimpled by the straps of a tight vilisqaz accompanied by the whispered words 'lucky girl' before her hands left me, presumably to be bound and, I suppose, if she was lucky, taken home for some strict and very tight bondage at the hands of her husband or boyfriend.


Chapter 12: Historical Context

'So your dreams have become real.' Taiarche said, her words a little slurred.

I was crawling at her side along the corridors of the palace, presumably heading for her private chambers.

Before leaving the party she had clipped a leash to my nose ring and was using this to guide me; she had also replaced my vaginal dildo and locked it back in place.

'Yes, Mistress.' My body still tingled with pleasure from the humiliation - and the huge orgasm. In my mind's eye I could see us as we wound our way through the deserted corridors, the tall elegant dominant, clad in her vilisqaz, strutting on her toe boots with her submissive pet crawling obediently at her side. We could be Houri and her beloved queen.

This was how I'd dreamed my decent into slavery would be.

'Do you still have them ? She had stopped referring to me as 'it'. 'The dreams, I mean ?'

'Of Hourishini and Jazirina ?' I replied. 'No Mistress.'

I'd missed them but now I had reality.

'Mine have stopped too.' Taiarche confided.

'You...Mistress had dreams about...' I was surprised she had never mentioned them before. Then I remembered her comments about the Mirkadan spiced wine and group hallucinations.

'And may slave ask if Mistress dreamed of being Queen Jazirina ?'

'She might have done.' I could hear the satisfaction in Mistress' voice.

'And did Mistress have a handmaiden called Hourishini ?'

'Of course.' Taiarche replied. 'Where would Jazirina be without her little foreign whore ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Only she didn't look like she does in the paintings.' Taiarche said thoughtfully.

'How was she different.'

'Bigger breasts for a start.' Taiarche laughed.

We proceeded in silence for a few moments save the echo of my Mistress' heels as the clicked beside me on the marble floor.

'Do you not miss your former life ?' She asked suddenly.

'I was an academic for twenty five years, Mistress. I think it's little time to step off the treadmill for a while.'

'It's quite a change.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

I knew where we were as soon as I was lead into the room.

Hourishini's cage stood in the corner. I could feel its presence and despite my recent pleasure I shuddered as I heard the door open.

Mistress unclipped my leash. 'In you go.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

I crawled forward blindly seeking the bar that would be used to gag me. I found it and bit down. Mistress secured a strap about the back of my head; then she locked the tips of my mitts to the roof of the cage and I spread my legs so she could restrain my ankles. Then she clipped the chains to my nipple and clit rings and, after closing the door fastened my clit chain in place. I knelt on all fours in the small cage, little wider than my shoulders; I could feel the bars of the cage door with the tips of my boots and I knew that, an inch or so from my face was the front of the cage.

It felt like coming home.

'Goodnight, Houri.'

'Gnghd, Mshdrsh.'

The next morning, still in the cage, I was given my morning enema. I was then lead out by nose ring and allowed to pee. It wasn't the first time I'd been treated like this here and it was exactly how I'd been treated for the three months of my resqinue; it just seemed normal.

Was it really three months ?

I listened to Taiarche's maids talking, understanding most of what they were saying and recognising their voices. Masia and Sasha had kept Astrid and I in this room as virtual slaves for three days as we were prepared to act as Taiarche's handmaidens at her husband's inauguration as governor. Taiarche had been implicit in our transformation and the three of them had teased us mercilessly.

It had been this experience that had kindled my lesbian desires although, at the time I had not acted on them, opting to spend the night in Houri's cage rather than Taiarche's bed.

I suspected that now I would have little choice.

When I'd releived myself I was lead to the frames where Astrid and I had been confined while our bodies were decorated for the inauguration ceremony.

That's when I recognised why Masia's voice from somewhere else.

It had been her that had tattooed my breasts and labia !

It had taken me a while to work out what the needles had been for and it was the only explanation I could come up with. If it had simply been to torture me then Inge would have done it herself. I remembered the swirling floral patterns that had decorated my body, the blossoms opening on my breasts when I had been a handmaiden; I had been sorry when the designs had eventually faded. Now they would never fade !

I hadn't even seen them !

I shuddered suddenly at the control others had over my body.

'Keep still.' It was Masia who spoke.

A hand slapped my bottom.

'Yes, Mistress.'

I stood, chastised and silent.

I was peeled out of my kinky rubber vilisqaz and then my arms were locked to the frame above my shoulder height and my ankles spread and locked apart. Then my dildo and butt plug were removed.

'You were quite a hit at Mistress' party last night.' Masia teased, her finger playing with my clit ring.

'I...'

'Shhh !' A finger touched my lips. 'Don't give me an excuse to whip you.'

I remained silent.

'We are going to prepare you for today's duties.'

Her finger circled my nipple and I imagined her inspecting her work. I wished I could see it.

'We need to clean you up for Mistress.'

They began with my legs, just above the top of my boots; not with a sponge or water but, I realised almost immediately, with their tongues; one at the front and one at the back of my right leg. I could envisage them down on their knees as I stood spread eagle and helpless, one working up the back of my calf, the other at the front then both tongues on my thighs licking them clean. From the top of my thigh one explored my loins and the other lapped at my right buttock then, frustratingly, just as it appeared to be getting really interesting, the dropped back down to my left leg.

I almost howled in frustration.

After they'd cleaned my left leg, however, there was no demurement and I suddenly found myself assaulted by two eager tongues, one lapping at my pussy and the other my anus. They pushed inside almost in unison and I came like a slut.

'It seems I am going to have to whip you.' Masia said from somewhere in front of me.

'I'm sorry, Mistress.'

'I'm sure you will be.' She teased and, in a moment, she was licking my breasts.

I came again, twice more, during the ordeal and my cleansing ritual was finished off with three strokes of a stiff whip across my buttocks.

It was definitely worth the trade off.

Finally, I was gagged with a ring gag and dressed in a new vilisqaz; Taiarche had a bit of a thing for chains and I wasn't too surprised when my breasts were forced into metal rings that were locked in place with light chains around my body although they were pretty tight and, without the use of my hands, I couldn't see them coming off anytime soon. I was locked into thigh cuffs too, held in place by chains to my nipple rings and then by more chains to my labial rings. Having chains clipped to my nipple piercings didn't stop them attaching clip on nipple pendants equipped, I was certain, with little teeth to ensure they bit tightly into my sensitive nips and didn't come off; they added one to my clit too. Somewhat disappointingly, my usual plugs were not replaced. Then I was released from the frame to be lead out by a leash clipped to my nose ring crawling on all fours with the weights swinging beneath me.

Taiarche lead me through the palace, on my hands and knees crawling behind her. I realised as the maids finished dressing me that she'd been there for some time watching me.

I was still wearing the toe boots and mitts locked in place and I soon found that the chains from my thigh cuffs did all sorts of interesting things between my thighs as they swung from my pierced labia; the nipple chains swung and tugged delightfully too and with the breast rings gently squeezing, my breasts were soon throbbing insistently. The nipple and clit pendants were just the icing in the cake. Coupling all this with the intense humiliation and vulnerability of being displayed like this my body responded in its usual way; my near-nakedness feeling even more extreme without my customary twin intruders. I could hear people around me, councilors and functionaries, administration staff; voices, footsteps, the chirp of phones; the usual background noise of office work all amplified by the high stone walls and ceilings. This sort of display, even for Taiarche, was ostentatious; handmaidens were ceremonial not everyday fashion accessories; as far as I knew, there was no precedent in Mirkada for bringing your human pet to work.

I heard whispered comments as crawled in her wake, the words 'she plays at being queen' repeated and I didn't doubt that Taiarche heard them too.

Eventually we stopped and I heard a door close.

'Kneel.'

I obeyed, starting to slide my hands behind my back but she pulled caught them and secured her little slave girl by clipping the tips of my mitts to my nipple rings; then she took another chain and passed it around my arms. When she tightened it my elbows were drawn together and with my hands clipped to my nipples the strain on my shoulders was suddenly intense. Then she pulled the chain between my legs and clipped it to my clit ring. Any attempt to pull my elbows further apart would be resisted by a pull on my intimate piercing. I wasn't surprised to find that the chain was decorated with beads and that these pressed deeply into my empty sex and almost as delightfully, between my buttocks.

'Knees wider.' She tapped something, a whip probably, against my thighs and I spread my legs even further apart. 'I want everyone to see that pretty little jewel between your thighs.'

I felt a gentle pull on my leash suggesting it had been tied to something.

'Be a good girl, now, Mistress needs to to work.' Taiarche said.

'Es, Isdess.' It was about all I could manage with the huge ring gag in my mouth but I nodded like a good slave girl, the bell beneath my nose tinkling gently.

I guessed we were alone in her office but then heard what sounded like a knock on the door.

'Liszt.' Taiairche said. The Mirkadan for 'Come in.'

A door opened and I heard footsteps.

There was a brief exchange in Mirkadan which was too rapid and too full of jargon for me to follow.

I tensed in the corner wondering what Taiarche's visitor would think of her slave kneeling in bondage in the corner. It wasn't that unusual for a woman in Mirkada to be kneeling beside her husband in bondage; but this almost went against tradition, the higher born woman should be the one in bondage while her handmaid worked. This certainly implied Taiarche was indeed setting herself up as 'queen' of Mirkada, even if she used the title 'First Lady'. I imagined that behind her back eyebrows were raised and even more comments muttered.

Taiarche's visits continued through the morning and her slave knelt beside her forgotten, at least by her mistress.


Chapter 13: Bread and Circuses

At lunchtime my new mistress lead me out of the office. I wonder a little that I did not find it strange to have been given to another by Astrid but I had, to all intents and purposes played sub to Taiarche before and, somehow, I just accepted it. She didn't free me, save to undo my leash from whatever it was tied to. I've strutted in some fairly intense crotch straps many of which have given me a good degree of pleasure but the way she'd chained me was instantly up there with the best of them; as I walked, there was no way I could keep my elbows still and as they moved apart a little the line of beads in the crotch chain rubbed exactly where they were supposed to; the chains to my thigh cuffs tugged relentlessly on my labia too and then there were the pendants clipped to my nipples and clit. I'd been kept denied in bondage for weeks even if I had enjoyed a few orgasms at the party and in the morning at the hands of Taiarche's maids. By the time we'd reached the restaurant where my mistress planned to eat, I was panting like the proverbial bitch on heat.

It didn't help that, as we made our way through the lunchtime crowds, hands touched me; groped me, in fact. Women in Mirkada are, on the whole, respected despite the fact that when they are out of the house they are more or less defenseless, especially if they are alone; for some reason, this didn't seem to apply to me. I'd got a hint of this as Taiarche's handmaiden at the inauguration when hands touched me 'for luck'. This attitude seemed to have continued; there might be mutterings in the seat of government about Taiarche getting above her station (she was, after all, a 'foreign whore' like me) but on the streets the people appeared to love her. We stopped frequently and, if there were any comments about the First Lady going about the city without her hands tied, I didn't hear any; the fact that she did it with a pet in tow just like Queen Jazirina seemed to endear her to them even more. As Taiarche talked to her subjects, hands (presumably male ones) took their quest for luck to a whole new level; my bottom and my breasts seemed to be most endowed with it and flicking my nipple pendants was the ultimate good luck charm.

We entered an airconditioned room, chill after the midday heat of the city and the sweat on my body cooled immediately making my flash stand out in goosebumps; other things became rather more prominent too.

'Jo'slekai.' A voice said; the Mirkardan for 'My Lady' or I noted 'Highness'.

My mistress responded and exchanged pleasantries with the proprietor of the restaurant before we were shown to our table where I knelt and someone removed my gag. My mouth was dry from the ring gag and I licked my lips but like a good slave I remained silent.

'We are alone.' Taiarche told me.

'Yes, Mistress.'

'You are very popular on the streets.' Mistress told me.

'Yes, Mistress.' I paused thinking of he hands on my body, my nipples hardening at the thought of it, my body responding to the delicious humiliation but underneath it, the academic part of Sally Frost's brain was stirring. I might me a submissive horny slut, only able to control my lust because of the tight bondage my body was constantly kept in but I still, apparently, had opinions. 'They seem less enthusiastic in the palace.'

'They will come round. It's time someone stirred the place up.'

'Please be careful, Taia...Mistress.'

'Is my slave-whore giving her mistress advice ?'

'For the people it's always been bread and circuses, show them you care and they will love you; coups are lead by those close to power.'

I'd seen it happen over the numerous civilisations I'd studied and, slave-whore or not, I wanted to warn her. The worst she could do would be to gag me and then punish me later; and, to be fair, I was such a slut I'd obviously enjoy it.

'Thank you, Sally.' Taiarche touched my shoulder and may have said more but I heard the door open and drinks were brought.

'It is a shame you can't join me for a cup of spiced wine.' Taiarche said clearly not wanting to dwell on the subject of her role as first lady. 'I miss our little fantasy sessions.'

'Mistress !' I turned towards her even though I couldn't see her.

'Don't tell me you still doubt what I told you about group hallucinations.'

'Oh, Mistress. If we dreamed the same, it was a coincidence.'

'Think what you like, you little whore.' Taiarche said amusedly. 'But you can't deny you loved being my little Hourishini.'

'I enjoyed belonging to her.' I emphasised the genitive.

'The people call you Houri.' She said.

'Yes, I've heard them.'

'And they touch you for luck.'

'Yes.' I had to smile.

'If you can be Hourishini, I can be Jazirina.'

'Your husband is the governor.' I reminded her. 'Not the king.'

'And I am the First Lady.' She countered. 'I have lived in this city for thirty years. I know the people. I understand their culture.'

I shrugged. 'It sounds a little far-fetched if you don't mind me saying, Mistress.'

'You know why she was called 'the Cruel' ?' Taiarche asked.

'Yes, Mistress.' I'd read about it; it had nothing to do with what she did to her handmaidens. In fact, it was a respectful term; after the coup, the one Houri had betrayed, Jazirina had condemned the plotters and their families to death; three hundred and twenty two souls were burned on the pyre or beheaded or staked out in the desert. It had been a truly terrible time and yet, it had consolidated her position, none challenged her authority of spoke out when she went out unrestrained and the purge ushered in an era of prosperity, the likes of which Mirkada had not previously know. Jazarina's beauty and, when she chose to use it, charm, had no doubt enthralled the emissaries who came to her court and they had happily entered trade treaties; her generosity with the favours of her handmaidens had probably helped to sway them too. Jazirina the Cruel had done it out of necessity, executing trusted members of her court because of their family ties to the plotters. She was respected for her strength.

'Then you know they love and respect her.'

'Yes, Mistress, but do the people really want her to rise again.'

She laughed.

'I'm not trying to be her, I'm just trying to remind them of her. My husband has some radical views in terms of modernisation, opening the city up, developing tourism... There are many traditionalists who oppose him not least because I too am a foreign whore.'

'There are other figures you could emulate.' Professor Sally Frost was reasserting herself.

'But none as iconic and Queen Jazirina.'

What could I say; I was hooded and restrained and, historical handmaiden or not, I had barely scratched the surface of the city's culture and history.

'I am your slave, Mistress.' I told her. 'I will obey you.'

'I would expect no less my little Houri.' She took up my leash and pulled me towards her.

'Yes, Mistress.' I could feel her breath on my lips carrying the scent of the spice wine and, for a moment, I felt the rush of pleasure at being Jazirina's slave of being kept in chains; of our intimate sessions where she would strap me to the table and abuse my helpless body and I knew I yearned to be treated like that again.

Taiarche fed me in typical Mirkadan fashion although, of course, it is usually the husband who feeds his wife; not the mistress her slave.

There were the usual 'accidents' and, more than once, I enjoyed the play of Mistress' tongue on my breasts. She appeared to have a few accidents on herself and I was guided to lick her breasts clean too.

'You have quite an appetite.' She told me as I licked one of her nipple clean.

'I am eating for two, Mistress.'

'Of course.' She guided me up using my nose ring and patted my belly. 'It doesn't show yet.'

'Thank you, Mistress.'

I heard her stand.

'When I was pregnant, I remember always being horny.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

She was standing behind me and her hands rans down over my breasts, her fingers sliding into my nipple rings.

'And my breasts were really sensitive.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'These are magnificent.'

I wasn't sure if she meant my breasts or my nipples or the rings in them; perhaps she meant my new tattoos.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

She toyed with my breasts.

I suppose I should have asked her what they looked like. I should probably also have asked how long she was planning to keep me like this; whether she was going to give me back to Astrid; whether she planned to continue my resqinue ? What would happen when Mark came back ?

But I didn't, I knelt in bondage with my hands cuffed to my pierced nipples and my elbows pulled back and tied to a crotch rope that pulled constantly on my clit ring; I was a slave; kept hooded, virtually naked, constantly aroused.

And now, it seemed, I was to play the role of Hourishini for real.

Sally Frost no longer just studying history but making it.

She bent and kissed the top of my head, her hands moving down my body, sliding between my thighs.

'You're such a horny slut.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I bit my lip. It was hard not to give myself up to the pleasure of being teased like this.

Her fingers stroked my labia, gently playing with the line of rings that pierced them, that were used to lock my sex away and I remembered that they too had been tattooed. I should probably have asked what they looked like too but then Taiarche's fingers slid inside, seeking out the beads of the crotch chain, tugging it and making the large bead that was pressed against my anus tease me.

'Astrid told me you cum for her when she takes you anally with the strap on.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I was panting hard, hot despite the airconditioned heat, my heart pounding.

'And do you want to cum now ?'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Aren't you worried someone will come in and see you like this and that they will know what a filthy whore-slut you are ?'

'No, Mistress.' I smiled to myself. 'I think everyone knows.'

'I'm sure everyone knows.'

The fingers of her left hand continued to tease my drooling slit and, a moment later, I felt her right hand against my bottom; she pushed the bead aside and slid a finger into my anus and I came strongly, biting down on my lip to stop me making too much noise.

The afternoon passed much as the morning, the foreign whore following her mistress around leashed and helpless kept constantly in a state of arousal by her bondage and then kneeling in the office, silent and forgotten.

Then, at some point, one of Taiarche's maids had come to collect me.

I was washed properly this time, taken into the shower by the two girls, still in bondage and still in the steel vlilsqaz with my mitted hands clipped to my nipples and my elbows drawn together behind me by the tight, beaded crotch chain. I wondered briefly what might be happening to my hands locked permanently in the mitts and to my feet in the punishing boots; apart from a single whipping a few weeks before, I had worn the boots continuously, walked on my toes when not crawling; it came completely naturally now as did being kept in darkness by the hood and exploring my world with my tongue.

Being used came naturally too and when, after being pressed between the maids for a while they soaped my body, I was told to go down on my knees I obeyed immediately, thrusting out my tongue to lick whichever pussy was placed before it. Masia enjoyed my oral skills first and then it was Sasha's turn.

'Sasha gave you special pleasure today morning.' Masia said. 'It your turn to return favour.'

I felt the maid's puckered ring with my tongue and worked at it diligently as she bent over in front of me. It wasn't enough to make her cum but she was more than ready for a me to explore her pussy when Masia guided my head a little lower. She had a clit ring and she came as I tugged on it with my teeth.


Chapter 14: Slave Whore

'I take it you don't mind if my husband joins us.'

I paused only for a second. 'Of course not, Mistress.'

I was hardly in a position to refuse.

This was something else I probably wouldn't tell Mark, if I ever saw him again and I wasn't kept in Mirkada as a sex slave for the governor and his mistress.

I was being lead back to Mistress Taiarche's apartment, crawling at her side on all fours. After the shower, I'd been dried off and perfumed and my pussy had been shaved again then I'd been fed and given my evening enema.

In Tairche's bedroom, I was guided up onto the bed and my hands pulled above my head where mistress clipped the rings in the mitts together and then to the head of the bed; my right foot was similarly immobilised but my left was still free. Then she gagged me.

I heard Taiarche moving around the bedroom and the click of buckles as she undressed; it takes some time for a woman to free herself from the vilisqaz, especially if she down't want to find it in a tangled heap the next morning. I was a little surprised that she didn't call one of her maids but then, Taiarche was an independent woman.

Finally, a door opened.

'Good evening, Sir.' Taiarche spoke to her husband in English.

'Good evening, Slave.'

I knew that they enjoyed this kind of relationship in private and imagined the beautiful brunette with her long lustrous hair and exotic eyes kneeling naked for her master.

'And what have we here ?' Silaxis asked.

'A gift from Astrid, Sir.' Taiache's voice was deep and sexy. 'One for us to enjoy together.'

'How delightful.' A hand touched my breast, fingers stroking towards the nipple. 'So prettily decorated.'

I really was going to have to ask to see Masia's work.

'There's a little something between her legs too.'

Silaxis lifted my left thigh and gently parted my labia.

'Very appropriate.' He said with a small laugh. 'As if we didn't know already.'

'Perhaps Sir would like to mark me as his property too.' Taiarche said seductively.

'I may just do that.'

I heard Silaxis step away from the bed and kiss his wife.

'May I undress you, Sir ?'

'Of course.'

I lay waiting and, after a few moments someone sat on the side of the bed behind me.

'Would you cuff me, Sir ?'

Taiarche might be flaunting her power in public but in private with her husband she was clearly still a submissive sex kitten.

I heard the ratchet of handcuffs, a very non-Mirkadan form of restraint.

Someone climbed onto the bed beside me and I soon discovered this was Taiarche as she pressed her body against me, her lips going to mine around the ball gag; almost instinctively, I rolled towards her. Then Silaxis pressed himself against my back; the sensations were very different even if there hadn't been a stiff fleshy rod squeezing against my buttocks.

His hand began to explore my breast again.

I lay between them, Sally Frost, the foreign whore, once again, a helpless sex toy.

He was a gentle lover, stroking, teasing, caressing and Taiarche was thoroughly attentive to me although she only had the use of her mouth. By the time he entered me, I was more than ready and barely cared that he took my anally, his cock stretching my sphincter in a way that made me moan into my gag with pleasure; of course, by that time, Taiarche's tongue was busy in my sex and it would have been a shame to disturb it. I just wish she'd remove my gag so I could have given her something like the pleasure she was causing me.

Silaxis came with his hands clamped firmly on both my breasts, shooting his seed inside me, his cock ramming home with Taiarche's mouth hard at work on his balls. After his orgasm, her tongue went back to work inside me almost immediately which was enough to send me over the edge to a very satisfying type two that would probably have been a three if it hadn't been for the number of climaxes I'd had in the previous twenty four hours.

I lay in a very contented state with Silaxis' hands on my breasts and his cock inside me and Taiarche wriggled up to lie in front of me. Despite her lack of orgasm, she nuzzled contentedly against me for some time.

'Sir.' Taiarche said after a while. 'May I cum too ?'

I felt his arm move, his hand clearly stroking her body even as he cupped my breast with the other one.

'I did give you permission to cum at your party last night.' He reminded her. 'I hear you made full use of it.'

'I know, Sir, but the slave-whore has had two orgasms today...'

She obviously didn't know about the one Masia and Sasha had given me before breakfast. She couldn't have seen my whole sensual wash.

'Very, well.' I felt him ease away from me. 'Would you like me to remove its gag ?'

'Thank you, Sir.'

With my mouth once again free, I rolled onto my back and my mistress straddled me. Then my tongue got to work. After a few minutes, Silaxis knelt behind her presumably playing with her breasts in much the same way as he'd just done with mine. At some point, with Taiarche moaning and close to orgasm, he bent her forwards and took her anally too.

It turns out that Taiarche is just as much of an anal slut as I am.

She came almost immediately with a gasping 'Thank you, Sir' even if I had done most of the work.

A few moments later her husband climaxed too.

The next day I was back in Taiarche's office in exactly the same state as before; elbows back, tits out, beaded crotch chain rubbing my drooling slit and a ring gag making me slobber and drool down my chest.

I guessed it was close to lunchtime when the door opened and I heard a man come in.

There was a brief exchange in Mirkardan which I didn't fully understand but I recognised Silaxis' voice immediately. I thought I heard them kiss and say something out 'using it before lunch.'

Then I felt Taiarche behind me, kneeling slightly to the side, I guessed it was her hands curling around my breasts and playing with my nipples.

Then something entered my mouth through my ring gag.

Something warm and fleshy.

Silaxis' cock.

He went deep almost immediately and I forced down the urge to gag remembering to lift my tongue to give him pleasure as Astrid had shown me. His response to this was instant, his hands grasping at the side of my head, pulling me harder against him so he went even deeper. My mouth flooded with saliva and I felt it drooling out over my lips and he worked in and out of my open mouth.

It should have been humiliating, actually it was, to be taken like this without being asked but then, I was a slave-whore and this is what I was for. I was being kept in bondage to please my masters and mistresses, of course, having Taiarche playing with my nips added a delicious twist and when her hand went between my legs to play with my clit I was a very happy little fuck-toy.

I didn't cum; it wasn't long enough for that but I did swallow like a good girl.

Then Silaxis and his wife went for lunch and their little slave-whore was left drooling her master's cum on her huge tits.

The next few weeks passed in much the same way, Taiarche's maids washing me either in the shower or cat-like with their tongues and giving me my morning enema and then delivering me to Taiarche who paraded me through the palace either as the well endowed fuck-toy strutting like bondage Barbie and flashing her huge tits or down on all fours playing the bitch on heat showing off my drooling sex sometimes gaping and sometimes plugged with heavy Mirkadan dildo and my little puckered hole that was sometimes stuffed full and at others yearned to be filled.

Silaxis came to the office frequently and made use of his wife's slave-whore although, I think sometimes he took his wife over her desk. Sometimes between them they took me out with them either to lunch or other engagements. Mutterings there might be in the palace but Silaxis and Taiarche had clearly won the hearts of the people who continued to touch the First Lady's handmaiden for luck.

It appeared I had misjudged the Mirkadan regard for tradition.

At night, I either shared their bed or found myself chained in Houri's cage.

I wasn't whipped much; although the maids enjoyed using some sort of light multibladed whip on me when they locked my in one of the frames alongside Hourishini's cage. They weren't as strict as Inge though did punish me mostly for their own enjoyment. The would usually take turns, one whipping my breasts as the other abused my buttocks and then one whipping my pussy while the other fondled me. I was made to tongue one or both of them almost every morning and evening and sometimes they returned the favour, usually when Mistress Taiarche caught them using me.

Given the chance, Silaxis seemed to enjoy taking a cane to my breasts and sometimes did the same to his wife as we knelt side by side in the bedroom.

My tally seemed to have been completed despite Astrid's plans to increase it and, strangely, I missed the brutal whippings or, at least, triumph of enduring them for my mistress. The attentions of the maids were thus frequently a pleasant distraction.

Then, between two or three weeks into my slavery to Taiarche, I was kneeling in her office in my usual posture, wriggling just enough to make the crotch chain give me a delightful sensation of pleasure when I heard the door open. Silaxis and Taiarche or, Master and Mistress, as I suppose they were had only just left and I hadn't expected them back for some time.

When Mistress left the office I was usually left completely alone although, once or twice, Silaxis had come in and used me while she was away. Although he liked me to take him in my mouth he seemed to prefer bending me over and using me from behind, usually anally. He also seemed to enjoy using a cane on my breasts and, as he did this on any flimsy excuse, being caught teasing myself with the crotch chain was a sure way to earn myself six of the best; hence, I immediately stilled.

It was definitely a man who entered, I'd recognise Mirkadan boot heels anywhere, women walking on their toes have a very typical gait that one can tell blindfolded. Whoever he was, he seemed hesitant or perhaps he was just surprised to see a seminaked hooded woman kneeling in the First Lady's office.

Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a zip.

Not a man in typical Mirkadan dress.

The cock that followed certainly wasn't Silaxis'. (It wasn't Mark's or Sven's either which left my repertoire somewhat exhausted). It was thin and a long and went straight back into my throat; rather forcefully. I choked for a moment, gagging violently, my nostrils flaring as I tried to gasp in air, then he relented slightly and I was able to breathe again.

I gave him the full service, of course, sucking eagerly and nuzzling his balls with my chin then swallowed when the inevitable happened.

Whoever he was, he didn't hang around, he wiped his cock on my hood, zipped himself up and left the office quickly.


Chapter 15: While the Cat's Away

I was going to ask mistress Taiarche who she'd allowed to use me but that evening I had no chance; still gagged, I was collected by the maids and taken straight to my cage. I was used to this sort of treatment and gave no resistance as Sasha and Masia pushed me inside and pulled my hands behind my back before securing me in place by my various rings before giving me my evening enema. It looked like I was in for an enforced early night but an hour or so later the maids returned, clearly in playful mood and pulled me back out.

I guessed Silaxis and Taiarche must have gone out for the evening leaving me to the tender mercies of the two girls.

Unusually, they didn't simple lock me to one of the frames but lead me through the palace corridors to another room.

'Over here, Houri.' I heard Sasha say. She had the strongest accent. 'My little clitty is dying for some attention.'

I crawled towards the sound of her voice and suddenly felt the whip across my buttocks; some sort of multi-bladed affair.

'Move your arse, slut. Think of all those times we've washed you with our tongues.'

I crawled faster and bumped into something firm; Sasha's thigh perhaps.

'Here, you dirty whore.'

Hands grabbed my head and pulled. I stuck out my tongue lapping at the pussy I could smell in front of me.

The whip fell again and I lapped harder.

'Not bad, whore.' Sasha opined. 'But I'm not ready yet. Let's have a little fun with her Mas.'

Hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me upright then drew my hands behind my back and cuffed them there.

'I do love these.' Sasha's hands (I assumed) cupped my breasts, still framed in their steel rings and squeezed firmly. 'So meaty I could take a bite out of them.'

Teeth closed around my right breast and I squirmed as they bit down.

'Shall I gag her ?' Masia asked.

'No, I want to feel her tongue on my slit.'

'We have the penis gag.'

'Later.'

Sasha continued to knead my breasts and bite the nipples.

Masia's hands slipped between my legs from behind. 'She's wet already.'

'You know how horny she is. She was just hiding it when we prepared her as a handmaiden; she was a wet as the Swedish whore.'

I was beginning to pant.

'Give me the whip.' Sasha released my breasts and I heard her stand. 'I really want to whip those tits properly.'

'Not too hard, Sash. We don't want Mistress to punish us.'

'Mistress Taia doesn't mind us having a bit of fun with her slave-whore. It's what the slut's there for.'

The whip stung my breasts.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

'Polite little fuck toy, isn't she ?'

The whip came again.

Then a slap landed on my bottom.

There was a part of me that knew more than liberties were being taken with my body but certainly wasn't going to complain. Masia and Sasha were abusing me just as Engara and Rishini had used Hourishini, usually under the watchful eye of Jazirini but sometimes, as in this case, on their own.

Jazrina's other handmaidens had been jealous of Houri and had taken great delight in punishing her although sometimes the tables had been turned and they were forced to pleasure her.

I shuddered as the memory of Sasha and Masia washing me with their tongues surfaced.

Sasha whipped me again from the other side catching my right nipple and I cried out more in surprise than pain.

'Shut up, whore.' Masia smacked me again.

The delicious torment continued for several minutes, the whip striking my breasts and the bare hand slapping my bottom.

'If you please us, whore, we might give you a tasty little treat.'

I don't know why I thought of food; perhaps that was what Masia meant. I'd actually been fed well both in Inge's tender care and since I had been with Taiarche; this was in sharp contrast to Houri who had been half starved much of the time, living on little more than tidbits fed to her by the soldiers to whom she was given when they weren't filling her mouth and belly with their semen.

On reflection, I thought I had probably eaten a little too well in the last couple of weeks for a girl who got very little exercise but then, I was eating for two.

'That's enough.' Sasha said. 'Come and lick me again, slut.'

I obeyed.

Masia continued to spank me and I worked Sasha towards orgasm. With Masia spanking me, I was getting pretty worked up myself but in a few minutes, I felt Sasha cum and lapped her drooling pussy as she clamped her thighs around my head.

'She is good.' Sasha said, pushing me away, her voice shaky. 'Where are those treats ?'

'Here.'

A moment later something sweet was thrust into my mouth.

I froze for a moment fearing it might be something a pregnant woman shouldn't eat but sugar flooded onto my tongue and when I chewed I tasted prigarine, a Mirkadan version of Turkish delight.

'Did you like that, Houri ?' A hand lifted my chin.

'Mmmm.' I chewed contentedly. 'I mean, yesh, Mshtresh.'

'Would you like another ?'

'Yes, please, Mistress.' When I was last pregnant over twenty years ago, I'd had a sweet craving and suddenly it struck me with an uncontrollable urgency.

'Open wide.' She touched the sweet to my lips and then pulled it away.

I put out my tongue, questing more eagerly for it than I had for Sasha's pussy.

She let me lick it then pulled it away.

I crawled forward and she let me have another lick.

'Now you'll have to find it by yourself.'

I leant forward and turned my head from side to side seeking the sugary treat.

'It's on the floor, Houri.'

I bent down seeking it with my tongue aware that the two maids were laughing at me.

'A little further, Houri.'

I crawled forwards.

'To your left.'

'No that's her right.'

'Behind you.'

I knew they were mocking me and when the whip fell I turned towards whoever had struck me but I turned too quickly; of course, having breasts the size of small moons didn't help me keep my balance.

I toppled onto my side, hearing my tormentors laugh.

It was wonderful.

'You've nearly got it Houri.' Sasha said. 'Just a little further forward.'

I wriggled forward on my side, tongue out and found the prigarine; I think one of them held if for me but when my tongue touched it, it was dropped and I had to roll over to pick it up with my mouth, lifting my bottom.

The whip fell repeatedly as I triumphantly consumed my prize.

'She's such a whore !' Masia said. 'She licked you out for a single piece of prigarine.'

'Think what she'll do for two.' Sasha said.

'No !' Masia responded. 'I need a good fuck.'

'I recommend her tongue.'

'No.' Masia continued. 'I want this inside me.'

'Something else you fill your mouth, whore.' Sasha pushed a gag into my mouth; it was clearly weighted at the front, probably the phallus they'd talked about earlier.

'Come on, whore.' Masia said. 'Mama's waiting.'

'Oh, Mas, you're as much of a slut as she is.'

One of them pulled on my nasal ring and, kneeling with my head about a foot off the floor, I felt resistance transmitted to my gag. In this position, I guessed Masia was down on all fours in front of me. If Sasha donned a gag and pushed it into me, we could form our own human centipede.

Sasha, however, chose the whip and I spent the next ten or so minutes fucking her little colleague while being whipped on the arse.

When they had finished with me, I was again locked in my cage, this time suitably plugged in all orifices, then they wished me goodnight and slapped my bottom before locking me in and securing my clit ring to the cage door. After being teased by the naughty little minxes for several hours I wasn't the least bit ready to sleep and the stimulation of being chained in place by my intimate piercings meant I worked myself to a much needed orgasm in the cage. Then, as I knelt in a delicious post-orgasm fog, I remembered the man who had used me earlier. I wondered who the man was; had Taiarche really told a complete stranger to use me ?

When I'd been Houri, Jazrina had shared my favours, initially with her lover and then with any man who she favoured. Perhaps Taiarche had taken a lover; the thought shocked me; she and Silaxis seemed so united but then she was a woman of power; after all, Mark and I were a pretty solid couple and here I was indulging my sexual fantasies.

In a brief wave of guilt, I wondered if Mark had expected me only to indulge in lesbian sex.

That was a line I'd certainly crossed.

Maybe he was a stranger. Maybe he was one of the discontented functionaries who whispered their distrust of Mirkada's new mistress.

The thought appalled and excited me.

If she did know, then why had she done it ? Was this the final stage of my submission ?

How much further might she go. Might I end up like Houri, a sex toy chined in the barracks ?

If things got too much and I asked to be freed would she let me go ?

I drifted in and out of sleep, one moment the logical academic that was Sally Frost, berating myself for giving in to my base urges, telling myself that no sane women wanted to be kept in a cage, to be beaten and used; treated as a sex toy; kept in bondage with rings piercing her nipples and clit to make it easier for her to be restrained, to be down on all fours lead around by a ring in her nose; and then I would wake as Hourishini, the foreign whore, the slave who loved her mistress, who endured abuse at the cruel queen's hands who wanted to be treated this way.

Sally Frost didn't believe in that spiced wine-group hallucination stuff, didn't believe in fate,

but here I was reliving my dreams in a distant city; what's more, like the swatty teenager I'd once been, I'd done my homework. My genetic profile showed I was from this area, not Mirkada itself but descended from the surrounding tribes, the 'slave' people. My ancestors might have been great explorers but I guessed they'd probably ended up in England as traded commodities before it had become expedient to have slaves with black skin.

I was born from a slave race, it was in my genes, I had to succumb to it.

This was all bollocks of course but after nearly three months of being kept hooded and chained, of being treated like the slave girl of my deepest fantasies it was becoming harder to deny the strange fixation that controlled me so, when I awoke, kneeling in the cage of a slave-girl, chained in place by my intimate piercings with the taste of another woman on my tongue I found myself unable to work out who would release me from my cage: Jazirina or Taiarache.


Chapter 16: Fantasy and Reality

It was actually Sasha who released me, I recognised her taste.

She put Hourishini through her pampered morning ritual of enema and shower (no tongues this morning) and then dressed her in the steel vilisqaz before taking her back to Taiarche's office where she again, knelt in the corner with her hands clipped to her nipple rings and her elbows drawn together behind her back. Mistress Taiarche clearly noticed the new signs of abuse on her slave-whore's body and Sasha was allotted a punishment later. I wondered if Masia would be included.

The morning proceded as usual but then, suddenly, there was a commotion outside; shouting and I heard Tiairche's chair scrape, the click of her heels; the door opened and

the noise increased; I heard voice raised, indignant then shrill and then several loud popping noises which were loud and sharp enough to make me jump (no mean feat for a chained slavegirl on her knees, not to mention quite painful on sore, clamped nipples). Gunshots ? Hooded and bridled I had no way of knowing what was happening.

A woman screamed.

A voice barked order. 'In there...check down in the basement levels. You men...' I didn't understand the rest of the order.

'Yes, General...'

I heard the running of booted feet.

Something important was happening and I was naked and bound, hooded and gagged, utterly helpless. For a moment, I tested my bonds squirming; but they were as always completely secure, constraining me. Despite the heat, I felt a cold rush of fear, my mouth suddenly very dry.

The door shut and I lifted my head expectantly. Footsteps came towards me, not Taiarche's heels, a man's footsteps; familiar footsteps. I felt a hand on my breast, a large, man's hand though the skin was soft; fingers played with my nipple. The other joined it, the unseen hands cupping my breasts as if weighing them, fingers sliding in and out of my nipple rings, pinching; they moved down my belly. I felt his breath against my shoulder as his hands slid between my legs, running over the chain of beads.

There was a knock at the door and the hands abruptly withdrew.

'We've scoured the building. Sir.' A man said, a soldier giving a report. 'There is no sign of her.'

I sensed the man tense then heard it in his voice. 'No matter.' He paused and somehow I knew he was smiling his cruel smile. It was Raximalik, Silaxis' rival.

'What shall I do with the foreign whore ?' The soldier asked.

'I think your men deserve a little reward, General.' Raximalik said. 'Why don't you take her to the barracks with the other foreign whores ?'

'I'm sure my men will appreciate the gesture.'

The general barked out an order and a few moments later I heard booted feet; then hand's grasped my arms from behind and I was lifted to my feet; a sharp tug on my nose ring forced me to follow.

I was lead out into the main hall, my footsteps on the marble floor echoing on the walls, loud in what otherwise seemed an eerie silence although I sensed the room was far from deserted. There were still shouts coming from outside in the square and, as I stepped out I felt the heat of the day, I heard these more clearly; the popping sounds were distant and in sporadic bursts, definitely gunfire.

I was trembling, remaining on my feet by sheer willpower.

In the hood, it was hard to keep my sense of direction but I thought I was being lead to towards the old palace. There was a way through the maze of corridors that linked the buildings but the direct route across the square was far more direct, especially if I was being taken to the underground levels.

I knew we would go down but then, if there was some sort of coup going on it was obvious, this was where the cells were; perhaps foreigners were just being rounded up. As I descended the stairs, my heels again loud although this time the echos of booted footsteps mingled with my own and shouts echoed up and down the steps. We descended two floors; I was very clear about that.

The cells were only one level down.

'A gift from General Raximalik.' The soldier escorting me said.

'Put her with the others.' Said another voice.

A hand groped my sex, the beaded chain from my clit ring was released and my elbows sprang apart.

'Nice !' A hand slapped my swaying breasts and then I was lifted off my feet and laid on my back, but not on the ground; there was something hard beneath my shoulderblades and my lower back; wood that was worn smooth by use; my legs were lifted, spread, strapped in place, my bottom hanging over the end of the plank on which I lay; hands were unclipped from my nipples and pulled down behind my back and anchored to the frame, then my head was drawn back the ring of my bridle used to anchor me. I was left, utterly helpless in a strange horizontal strappado on my back with my legs spread, my sex gaping and my ring-gagged mouth held firmly open.

I knew I was on a Mirkadan rape rack.

For a moment I thought, perhaps hoped, that I had just been tied there for convenience, but I was restrained and hooded, gagged and blindfolded and I recalled Raximalik's words about the men deserving a reward. Then, if that wasn't enough evidence, I heard a scream, a gagged scream and the slap of flesh on flesh. The noise came from my right.

'Nnngg.' I heard. 'Lsjj.' The same voice. English but muffled by a gag; probably a ring gag like mine.

Behind it came the murmur of a crowd, low voices rumbling their approval, a deep man's laugh.

'Shut up, bitch.' The soldier spoke Mirkadan.

There was the sound of flesh striking flesh again and another scream.

'Why don't you plug the little cunt's mouth, Bulash ?'

'Glad to.'

The gagged cries became chokes and around me there were cheers.

I struggled frantically, bucking wildly on the rack, I could still lift myself by my legs and I swung wildly by my ankles. Something struck me across the belly and then a strap was put across my waist pinning me down.

'Don't worry, foreign whore.' A voice said in my ear in accented English. 'You'll get your turn.'

Hands squeezed with my breasts, fingers pinching my nipples.

'These are fucking huge.' The voice told me. 'Juicy.'

My nipple rings were pulled viciously upwards, my breasts stretched painfully, I tried to arch up but my shoulders were held down by my bound arms and the strap around my belly was buckled tightly.

'Unngh !' I whimpered through my gag but the pain continued.

The girl beside me screamed again and my breasts were released; but it was only a moment's respite; something brushed my sex, something hard and fleshy, then it pushed its way inside.

The man raping me buried his shaft inside my; I felt his balls slam into my perineum.

'Enjoying it are you slut ?' Then, in Mirkadan, he said. 'This one's already wet.'

In my defense, I'd been kept in a state of constant arousal for weeks; it certainly wasn't him that had got me drooling; slickly receptive to anything that was to be pushed inside me. Some women have rape fantasies; I know that because I am one of them, but this was real, not fantasy. I was wet because, until some thirty minutes ago I'd been living out a submissive fantasy though, much to my shame, I'd not been able to suppress a slight thrill when I'd been strapped to the rape rack.

'It's that one they call Houri, the Governor's wife has been keeping her as a pet.' Someone said. 'She's a total slut. Completely submissive...and a lesbian !'

More fingers began to kneed my breasts. 'Enjoying the cock, fuck-slut ?'

'Take her from the other end.'

Wet, sticky flesh was pushed though my ring gag, a penis, shoving against my tongue, forced into my throat. I gagged violently, bucking in my bonds, choking, impaled at both ends.

There was nothing I could do but take it and, as I lay there, a voice inside my head told me that I was getting exactly what I wanted, that this was the logical conclusion to my increasingly insatiable masochistic desires, to be strapped down, hooded; raped by unseen men, handled; used for sex; this was the submissive's ultimate fantasy; the final loss of any control. But even I have my limits, or thought I did; this was too much, had to be too much, no woman could really want this. I might have despaired had I not experienced it all before; as Hourishini I had been treated like this and so, in a way, I had been too. Those dreams had been so real and now, somehow, strange as it may seem, they protected me; the part of me that was/had been Houri helping me to endure.

The first man gasped and thrust hard inside me, his cock twitching as he rammed himself home making the wooden plank to which I was strapped swing and forcing the other man's cock deeper into my throat so that he came too, his hot semen erupting and making me choke and retch around my gag and leaving me fighting for breath until he withdraw.

Others replaced them and others after them until I thought I couldn't swallow any more cum and could feel it running from my gaping pussy and over my face both in and outside the hood; it was smeared all over me too, over my breasts and belly and legs.

When Houri had come back from the barracks some days, she'd been so covered in cum that her eyelids had been stuck together with it.

It didn't take long before my anal ring was penetrated too, another sexual plaything for the apparently endless line of men that queued up to fuck me and soon this too dripped cum and gods knows what as my body was used mercilessly.

The gagged whimpers and cries around me told me that my treatment was not exceptional.

It wasn't just cocks either that were rammed inside me; fingers and other objects penetrated my orifices, brutally fucking me and as a fist was driven inside me, I suddenly began to fear that the life inside me would be harmed; as Hourishini, I could bear everything but that.

Finally, it stopped and I lay still, listening to my own breathing, feeling the welcome rise and fall of my chest; my body ached more than I could ever recall despite my familiarity with tight, prolonged bondage or any other sort of punishment I had endured; my mouth and pussy and my anus were felt bruised beyond anything I could imagine.

There were four rape racks and they were obviously all full; three other woman in the same state as me, helpless; our legs spread, our bodies coated in semen and oozing it from every orifice. I wondered who they might be, whether they too were hooded or could see the horror around them, what else had been done to them. I heard gagged whimpers, someone retched and coughed one of the women screamed and another called out but, other than pleading, her gagged cries were more or less incoherent.

'Blsh yed ng gug.' She said several times but then fell silent.

I was jerked from an exhausted sleep by a fierce pain in my right nipple that was rapidly joined by a pain in my neck from the punishing extended position I'd slept in and a dull ache in my sex and bottom.

I let out a gagged gurgle and was slapped hard across the belly.

'Silence, bitch !'

There was a tug on the strap holding my head back and then I was able to move it for the first time in I didn't know how long. The rape must have lasted hours and god alone knew how long I'd slept. As I eased my painful neck, the strap was removed from my belly and then my ankles were freed, finally allowing me to close my legs. Then my wrists were separated and I was lifted off the plank and lowered to the floor where I lay on my side.

'Come on.' The leash was still clipped to my nose ring and a jerk brought me up onto my hands and knees, crawling obediently after the man who had freed me. 'You've been invited to a party.'


Chapter 17: Ultimate Submission

'Got to make you presentable to the general.' The man told me as he dragged me to my feet and cuffed my wrists behind me. Then he shoved me into a stream of tepid water and began to wash me down. I was kept hooded and was still wearing the steel vilisqaz with the breast rings and thigh cuffs and the chains clipped to my nipples and sex. I was still in to toe boots too and the mitts.

A helpless bondage plaything.

It was no surprise when the washing down turned into a grope but I could hardly resist and, tipping my head back, I swallowed water thirstily through my open mouth. It was tepid but it tasted clean and was way better than anything else I'd swallowed recently.

He took me down on my knees using my anus, driving in hard, his balls banging my slit and his hands groping my breasts then he pulled me to my feet.

'You'd better put on a good show.' He growled in accented English.

I did. How and why, I don't know; self preservation probably.

A hooded woman, near naked and in bondage walking leashed on toe boots can't really fail to impress even in Mirkada but I did it properly, walking like Taiarche had once shown me and Inge had subsequently trained me as if my toes were following an imaginary line, thrusting my tits out and swaying my hips; and when I stopped I spread my legs and shoved my tits and cunt forward for my master's attention.

Sally Frost/Hourishini was a woman who demanded attention.

I got it too; unseen hands caressed my body, tracing my curves, touching me intimately, lingeringly, fingers sliding through my piercings to tease my swollen nipples and clit and stroking between my spread thighs.

It was exciting, intensely exciting...

I've read erotic novels and know the oft-repeated phrase 'her body betrayed her' that expresses the heroine's sexually submissive desires being awakened; I'd always thought it rather crass, most women in my experience know exactly what they want; submissive fantasies are common, the desire to be bound a little less so but that's more about safety; about the need to trust someone enough to let them tie you up. Most of the women who've experienced bondage have really got off on it.

I had to face it; being here turned my on. I was anxious, of course, and guessed that failing to perform would not go down well but, deep down, I knew I wanted this.

When I was commanded to kneel I spread my legs as wide as they would go and shoved my tits forward with my hands up high behind my back as I bowed my head, my body screaming out on every frequency the signals that it was here to be used.

'Why don't we remove its bridle ?'

I thought I recognised the general's voice. Milicantasi, I think he was called.

Hands fumbled with the straps behind my head and then the huge ring was levered out from between my teeth.

I could hear music playing, the clink of glasses; there had been conversation but most of that had stopped as I'd been lead in.

I was clearly the centre of attention. I planned to keep it that way.

I put on my most coquettish smile and called to mimd my politest Mirkadan.

'May I suck your cock, Sir.' I said lifting my head and making a suggestive gesture with my tongue.

I suspected I already had.

There was a moment's silence and then laughter.

'Perhaps you'd like to use my office, General.' Raximalik suggested.

I felt the telltale signs of my leash changing hands and then, obeying a short jerk on my leash I climbed obediently to my feet and followed the general from the room, 'glancing' over my shoulder as I did so. I think I put on enough of a show to make sure every man in the room wished he was General Milicantasi.

He was surprisingly gentle and I was very good.

Very good !

I took my time and I made sure I did a thorough job; the foreign whore's five star service.

If I hadn't made him cum when I did, I got the impression he would have grabbed hold of my and finished himself off; he was drooling everywhere and his cock was twitching almost rhythmically. As it was, after a lot of tongue and lip work, I deep-throated him and then swallowed hungrily, licking my lips and thanking him for using me.

'Perhaps the general would care to use his slut again later.' I said as coyly as I could.

Back in the main room, he kept a firm hold on my leash and I followed him obediently for some time before Raximalik inveigled him to release me.

I did the dirty for him too.

I'd done him before, as I knelt in 'his' office with his cock in my mouth I recognised the taste and the slight curve to the left. He made the same noise when her came too. It was Raximalik who had slipped in (pun intended) when Taiarche had left me alone.

He got the full treatment (well, four stars), I'm not a woman to bear grudges, at least not when I'm kneeling at a man's feet in chains; I also knew he was a vicious bastard from the way he treated his wife, Davilia. If I was being cynical, I'd say his rich-bitch wife deserved it; it was pretty clear she'd picked out a man of power and influence and used her feminine wiles (not to mention her long blonde hair and svelte body) to draw him in; perhaps she'd had a kinky streak and liked the way he treated her at first; I wasn't sure she was so happy about it now.

After he came in my mouth he lead me back out into the main hall.

And that's how I spent the rest of the evening, my leash being passed from hand to hand and being made to kneel in dark corners and do the dirty.

I can hardly say I maintained my dignity but, when not sucking cock, I played the part of hot wanton slave girl standing with my shoulders back and my cunt shoved forward knowing that men were openly staring at me and, if they could get close enough, groping my helpless body.

I can't exactly say I enjoyed the evening, some of the men's cocks were disgusting; but being there and the things I was made to do excited me; I'd been treated this way as Hourishini, passed round the court from hand to hand and the rape rack had been far worse so, when men discussed the size of my breasts or played with the chains hanging from my nipples or slapped my bottom I have to confess, I felt a strange tingle of pleasure. I can't fully explain it, the ordeal should have been terrible but I'd spent three years engaging in increasingly humiliating and submissive slavegirl fantasies and now I was living one.

Yes, my body betrayed me !

I'm not proud of it but, as the evening wore on the men became drunker and their advances became lewder, I actually enjoyed they way unseen hands groped me and pushed inside me and played with the chains swinging from my labial piercings; the way my nipples were tweaked and my breasts squeezed (they were still ringed and throbbed constantly); at one point I was made to kiss another girl, presumably one in the same position judging by the ring gag in her mouth; she tasted of sweaty cock and semen, just like me, I guessed. I was spanked too, bent over a man's knee and at one stage, my breasts were whipped as I knelt with them resting on a table.

It wasn't just my mouth that was used, of course, as dinner progressed and the amuse-bouches moved on to more substantial courses, I was taken into the office and fucked from behind bent over the desk (main and desert). That was how I managed to climax; it happened only the once but one of the men had a very large cock and took me with one hand on my left breast and the other between my legs; I'm sure he did it deliberately, perhaps to humiliate me, to show me what a whore I was but, when he'd finished, he kissed me gently on the side of the neck before leading me back out into the melee.

After the party, I was lead back down to the cellars of the palace and heard the whoops of the men and whimpers of the women as we descended the stairs assuming that after an evening of respite in exulted company I was going to be thrown back to the men and lashed to the rape rack again but my guide took me off the stairs one floor down and I was lead somewhere quieter. It was cool down here and I shivered as I followed whoever was leading me by my nose ring, the heels of my boots echoing off the walls.

I heard the occasional whimper but mostly it was quiet. A hand across my belly stopped me and I heard a metal bolt being drawn back; a heavy door creaked open.

Oh great, slave girl and prisoner fantasy all rolled into one !

I was lead inside and a moment later the door clanged shut.

I stood, hooded and restrained wondering what might happen next.

Nothing.

I waited a little longer and took an experimental step forwards; I'd been effectively blind for three months. I probed with the toe of my boot and felt the hard floor, stone, I guessed. I took another step and then another. There was something on the floor, something soft that moved as I pushed it. Cautiously, I knelt down, it was soft under my knees and when I bent my face forwards I could smell damp cotton.

They had given me a mattress and I crawled carefully onto it, feeling a roughness beneath my knees; there seemed to be a blanket too.

Emboldened by this discovery, I crawled further forward, slowly, stopping when my nipples touched something cold. I pushed out my tongue and touched cold stone, tasting dampness and realising how thirsty I was. I licked moisture onto my lips.

Moving to the side, I followed the wall using my nipples and my tongue, wishing that my hands were not so uselessly confined in the bondage mitts, crawling on the mattress until my shoulder met another wall. This was rougher stone, fragments of it sticking to my tongue when I explored it. I followed it along, the surface snagging my nipple chains, leaving the mattress behind, my knees moving on the hard stone floor, my tongue and the sensitive skin of my breasts telling me about my prison. After the violence of the previous days it was almost starkly silent, just the click of my chains and the sound of my breathing.

I turned at another corner finding a steel ring bolted to another smooth wall and then found the door, tasting rusting metal on my tongue and feeling its chill on my nipples. It was solid but I guessed there must be a grill or peephole in it somewhere.

I'd probably have time to examine it later.

It took a while to explore my prison even though it was only a little over eight feet square but then I was hooded and chained and only had the used of my tongue and lips and my nipples. The mattress lay in one corner, there appeared to be a drain in the other (no, I didn't taste it, I felt the grill under my knees and a cold draft against my pussy). I smelt it too and realised that I needed to pee.

After climbing to a squat and relieving myself, I crawled back towards the mattress. About half way across the floor, my knee knocked something and I heard the scrape of metal. I bent forwards with my tongue out and found something smooth and cold.

A water bowl.

I licked at it thirstily. There wasn't much in it, I'd probably spilt some when I'd knocked it, but it was fresh and cold and I did my best to lick the bowl dry. Then, I stuck out my tongue and swept across the floor hoping there might be food but was disappointed so I crawled back to my mattress and curled up, pulling the rough woolen blanket over me with my teeth as best I could.


Chapter 18: Working Girl

I was woken by the door opening and sat up quickly.

'Food.' A man's voice said.

There was the click of metal on stone and then the slosh of water.

The door clanged.

I got to my knees and using the wall against my left shoulder as a reference crawled in roughly the direction I expected the food bowl to be. I must have crawled past it the first time because I eventually found the door and had to double back wondering if anyone was watching me crawling naked and chained and hooded, watching as I used my tongue and my breasts to navigate my prison with the chains from my intimate piercings clicking as I moved. I found the water bowl first and then, moving to the right my tongue encountered the food bowl.

Oh great, Mirkadan porridge; I really was getting the full prisoner fantasy.

At least if tasted marginally better than sweaty cocks and cum.

I ate breakfast and then relieved myself over the grill.

Maybe someone was watching that too.

Then I stood and stretched, arching my back and moving my chained hands, turning my head and bending down to put my head between my knees. It had hardly been part of my daily routine for the last three months but there wasn't much else to do. Then I checked out the door; the previous night (at least, I assumed it had been night and now it was morning) I'd only examined it on my knees but now I stood before it, feeling the cold metal against my breasts and hearing my nipple chains tap against it. It was mostly smooth metal but there was a grill with, my tongue told me, a mesh about the same dimensions as the wall of the cage Astrid had kept me in.

Suddenly I heard footsteps and stepped back from the door finding my heart suddenly racing.

The voices passed but a moment later they came back.

'So this is the little fuck toy ?' A voice said in Mirkadan.

'Yes, the foreign whore's foreign whore. Last night she showed the general what a slut she is.'

It was true.

I heard the clang of the bolt and creak of the door.

What else could I do, I pulled my hands up behind my back and pushed my tits out then I turned and walked towards my mattress swinging my hips before turning and dropping to my knees with my legs spread.

I could have said 'come and get me big boy' but I simply ran my tongue over my lips and hoped I'd made my point.

'Thirty minutes.' The first voice said.

There was a moments pause and the clink of coins.

I'd just been pimped out.

The door clanged shut.

'Show me what you can do, foreign whore.'

'Yes, Master.' I crawled forward thrusting my tits out, my chains swinging and clicking

I found his crotch and explored with my tongue until I found his zip. Just as well he was a soldier, if he'd have been wearing Markadan robes it wouldn't have been half as sexy. I pulled down his zipper with my teeth and he obliged by unbuttoning his trousers.

'Are all foreign whores this eager ?' He asked.

'This one is, Master.' I felt his cock against my chin and took him into my mouth, licking at him with my tongue and then running my lips up and down his shaft. 'Mmmm...'

'I'm not interested in that cunt !' He said pushing me away.

His loss !

He pushed me backwards and I went back arching over my feet and my hands spreading my legs; the chains from my thigh cuffs did the rest, pulling on my labia, opening my sex to him.

For some reason I felt that same strange excitement I'd felt the night before.

I'm a slut ! Deal with it.

The man toyed with my clit ring and then place his hands on the top of my thighs.

Then something warm brushed my slit.

It came again.

He was using his tongue !

That was unexpected.

He wasn't good but he wasn't bad.

I moaned to give him some encouragement.

'You like that, foreign whore ?'

'Yes, Master.' I panted squirming gently.

He tongued me for several minutes, lapping at me more like a dog than a lover but it had the desired effect and I soon felt a warmth spreading through my sex. He thrust his tongue inside me; it was a little too soon but not unwelcome; with a little gently fantasy I could probably cum from this.

A vision of Astrid standing over me in her rubber lingerie popped into my mind; the black latex stretched over her gentle curves, a flush of arousal on her chest as she toyed with a riding crop.

Scratch that !

The rubber bra was stretched taut over her giant tits, the little black triangles barely covering her massive swollen nipples; she'd just removed her knickers and put them in my mouth; now she was teasing herself with a bullwhip, running it back and forth across her sex, her juices running freely down the inside of her thighs, down the shiny black stockings and the heels of her shiny black toe boots.

Taiarche knelt beside her, collared; her tits were massive too and she was rubbing them against Astrid's thigh, one huge melon on each side of the blonde's leg; there were clamps on her nipples and the chain looped inside Astrid's thigh pinning the beautiful brunette in place. Taiarche was kissing the side of Astrid's body, her tongue playing with the rubber suspender belt and its clips; she was restrained in a single sleeve, shiny black and ultra tight. It wasn't just her tits that were being rubbed against Astrid's leg; she was masturbating on the blonde's shiny rubber boot, rubbing her sex against it.

Both women were close to orgasm.

So was I.

Mark's tongue was still working my sex, teasing my clit now.

I really was going to have to punish him for doing such a sloppy job.

Perhaps I'd keep him in chastity for a month or two !

Perhaps I'd let Astrid punish him.

Perhaps she could punish us together, chaining us to one of the frames in the cage room in Taiarche's apartments. Perhaps if she put is face to face we could share a gag, perhaps Mark's cock could be inside me as Astrid whipped us or, if she hung me upside down, I could suck his cock while he licked my pussy.

'Ohhhh !' I climaxed suddenly.

Only a type two but lingering and gently warming in my loins.

'You like that, foreign whore ?'

It took me a moment to reorientate myself.

'Yes, Master.' I whispered in my throatiest purr.

He pulled himself up on top of me and pushed his cock inside me.

It was slightly less disappointing than his tongue.

I could feel he was a large heavy man.

Then he kissed me on the mouth. He was clearly a man who liked pushing his tongue into things. I tasted my own juices as he began to thrust inside me.

'Oh, Master.' I gasped.

I had to put on a good show.

He came quickly, grunting as did so, his cock twitching.

Slut that I am, I wasn't nearly ready for a second climax though clearly Taiarche and Astrid would have been up for it.

I faked a type two anyway.

And so I became a slave-whore, the final fulfillment of my fantasy; kept in constant bondage, hooded, chained and caged and rented out for the use of any who chose to pay. I can't say I enjoyed it all, many of the men were rough and some brought toys: clamps for my nipples and clit, whips, paddles, a number brought gags and some brought other restraints or rope to bind me; Mirkardans can be a kinky bunch. I was frequently hogtied and sometimes suspended; forced to suck cock hanging by my ankles (just as well I'd practiced); some men tied me spreadeagle to the wall or floor using rings like one I'd found exploring my cell on the first night. My cell was clearly designed for torturing as well as holding a prisoner when needed.

After a few days use, my sex was aching and bruised and my anus painful; my breasts throbbed from constant abuse and my nipples were exquisitely tender; my tongue was sore and my lips cracked; there wasn't a part of me that didn't scream for release; and yet, I endured; Hourishini had done it and, when I wanted them, Astrid and Taiarche were there; at least the sexualised cartoons of them that lived in my fantasies were.

I was a bondage slut and I liked pain and humiliation.

It wasn't quite heaven but, I'm ashamed to say it wasn't hell either. Perhaps they were a little more gentle on me because of who I was or had been but I was being kept like the pleasure slave of my fantasies and made to perform constant and depraved sex acts for unseen men, some of whom I began to recognise as 'regulars'. The man with the large cock from the general's party came back; I decided he was probably young (young and well hung !) from his stamina; he was always gentle and every time he used me I came like the slut I am. I know we both enjoyed it; on the second visit he got the full five star treatment and I subsequently learned that he was a captain and single because he liked to hold me after sex and talk as his big strong hands played with my nipples and made me want more from him. I was probably old enough to be his mother but it wasn't as if I had any choice so I made the most of it.

Others were more brutal, many forced me down and took me anally or forced me to deep throat them; several like to piss on me afterwards. After a few days I was washed down (accompanied by the usual groping) and even got clean mattress. However, I stayed in bondage, hooded, locked into toe boots and bondage mitts, steel rings locked around the bases of my breasts and chains from my nipple rings to my thigh cuffs and from my thigh cuffs to my labia.

There was occasional respite in my bondage, for a man who wasn't deprived of the use of his hands, separating my mitted hands from behind my back was easy although any relief was usually short-lived as it often lead to more strenuous bondage. Also, when alone I found I could slide my mitted hands over my bottom and thus ease the tension in my shoulders for a while; the first time I tried this, I also tried to separate my hands but this proved impossible with just my teeth and tongue; far worse, I got caught and was strung up the rings in my mitts and given a thorough whipping; I was also left there for the night or day or whatever it was.

I made no attempt to ease my predicament after that save offering all my clients the five star service in the hope that most of them would treat me reasonably well. I guess I've always been a seductive little mix; once I'd set my sights on Mark I realised just how good I was at it; that shoestring bikini and the summer dress with no underwear when he took me punting; I'd spent several days before abusing my nipples so they were really sensitive and almost permanently erect, if only I'd know about nipple clamps in those days ! Once I'd got him into bed, keeping him there was easy; I'd accrued quite a collection of sexy lingerie by that time. I did buy a leather skirt and bustier and a set of wrist and ankle cuffs at one stage but I didn't use them; I didn't want to frighten him away; he found them a few years later and we did use them, quite a lot as I recall but only when the children were out and when they got older it was a bit risky; nobody wants to answer the question 'Why was mummy tied up in the bedroom ?'. Of course, it was all light bondage, though there was one weekend when we were away for a friend's wedding and I took the cuffs with me; there was a riding crop in the drawer beside the bed; I guess we weren't the only couple having a kinky mini-break. We nearly missed the ceremony and I had quite a lot of difficulty sitting through it.

I suppose I've always been a submissive; I just hadn't had the opportunity to find out just how submissive I was until I came to Mirkada.

Of all the men that abused me in the cell, one was the worst: Raximalik. I hadn't liked him when he was Silaxis' rival for the governorship and now he'd organised a military coup he was definitely off the Christmas card list. He really liked to whip me, hanging me by my wrists or my ankles and decorating my body as eagerly as Inge once had; he also like me to suck his cock while strung up by my boots. The new 'governor', I soon realised, brought his wife with him to watch. Vain bastard ! I thought I heard the click of heels when he came in but it was only on the third or fourth visit that he hung her up with me next to her, our bodies pressed together; I could feel her breasts against mine. He made us kiss; including tongues (she was ring gagged). Then he whipped which made Davilia thrash wildly. By the end she was sobbing against my shoulder. It wasn't a bad whipping by the standard of some I have received but Davilia's reaction made it one of the more traumatic. Eventually, the poor woman was cut down and taken away by her husband and I was left hanging by me arms until my next client arrived.

It was hard to tell how long I spent in the cell, hooded and chained , the only way to mark the passage of time was my supply of food and the visits of my punters. I suppose I could have despaired but I think, deep down, I knew that Mark would arrive at some point on his white charger and rescue me.

I also had Taiarche and Astrid for company, well, I had the highly sexualised versions of my friends / mistresses the lascivious one with the big breasts and the insatiable sexual desire. As my captivity went on, so their relationship developed (and their breasts got bigger); Astrid was clearly the most dominant one sometimes leaving Taiarche chained up beside me and, when I was alone, I found her presence comforting; she wasn't hooded like me and liked to compare her new breasts with mine, trying to convince me hers were bigger and she had nicer nipples; she sat beside me when I stretched and teased me as I continued to explore my prison with my tongue. Astrid would sometimes punish her when I was being whipped and use the strap on to fuck her when I was being pinned down and fucked. Hearing Taiarche whimper with pleasure as Astrid abused her like this made the whole thing seem more bearable it also gave me some surprisingly intense orgasms which pleased my clients; every punter thinks he is special a whore.

Mark made a few appearances too, telling me I deserved everything I got and that I had brought all this on myself. He was sometimes there with the voluptuous Vanoushka or Kirsty on a leash, usually playing with their breasts as he told me he'd heard about all the dirty things I was doing and was looking forward to having me as his slave.

Then, at some point, my little world was expanded; one of my keepers came in and gagged me then lead me out, of my cell (clit ring leash) not just as far as the shower block but up the stairs and through the palace passages into what must have been an overground room; I could hear the sounds of the street through and open window and feel a warm breeze on my naked skin.

'Over there.' A voice said. A female voice. Davilia.

The ring keeping my hands behind my back was parted but, as usual, any freedom was shortlived: my arms were stretched out just above my head and then my legs parted and my boots locked in place too.

It was the perfect whipping position.

'Leave us.'

There was no way this could be good.

A door shut.


Chapter 19: Pain

I heard the hiss of a whip and the snap a fraction before the pain exploded across my back in a fierce white heat that made me cry out into my gag, bucking in my bonds, my head snapping back as the vicious stroke caressed my body. I suppose the bell clipped to my nose must have jingled but I didn't notice. Another stroke followed, a fraction lower and just as violent. Pain engulfed me as if my skin was being torn off.

For all I knew, it might have been.

The third strike curled around my side and licked my right breast with a fiery tongue.

'Nnngggghhhhh !' I cried out in agony my back and side burning; hot tears springing from my eyes.

My bell was ringing almost continuously.

I have never been whipped this viciously.

It was all I could do not to start sobbing like a baby.

I shook my head. 'Nnnnngggghhh. Mshdrsh. Blsh.'

But my new mistress showed no pity.

Fuck knows what she was using; it was rough and I was sure it was tearing at my skin; I recalled that Ian Fleming short story about some island somewhere that they used a stingray's tail as a whip; Mirkada was too far from the sea for that but I guessed it had its own methods.

As the lashes fell I began to struggle violently, jerking against my bonds, the steel encircling my wrists and ankles biting into my flesh more than they had done in the months I had worn them; but the pain was overridden by the need to free myself and escape the savage beating.

Taiarche and Astrid appeared to have abandoned me.

Somewhere around the tenth stroke I began to sob firmly convinced I was going to die under this torture.

'Now you know what a real whipping is like, Foreign Slut.' Davilia hissed in my ear.

I hung slumped in my bonds, my body burning, I'd barely registered that she'd stopped hitting me somewhere around the thirty mark.

She was panting with the exertion and rage.

She jerked my head back.

'Now you learn what it like to be true slave.' She continued. 'You think you take more ?'

'Nnnggh.' Still sobbing, I shook my head forcefully.

'You take ten more.'

'Nnnggghh.' I practically screamed. 'Blsh.'

I took them anyway, my buttocks this time being set aflame.

'My husband enjoys you, but you nothing...a slut, a dirty whore.' She slapped my breasts with her hands, it was a whole lot better than the whip. Then she twisted one of my nipple chains pulling it viciously, I thought she was going to rip it out of my nipple. 'He says he will turn my into another Hourishini, tattoo Davilia's breasts and pierce me.'

She began to slap me again.

'For year he is tortured me.' I could feel her breath on my lips. She was screaming at me. 'And now I going to torture you.'

She jerked my head back again.

'When I finished, you will beg to taken back to the rape racks for many men to enjoy.'

The way she was going, I didn't doubt it.

I felt a pull in my right nipple ring and when she let go the chain, it felt heavy.

'Shall we see how much you take, foreign whore ?'

The weight increased as she loaded the ring further.

Then she did the same to my left nipple.

'My husband like torture my nipples.' He has special clamps. I felt her fiddling with my left nipple, pulling it into some sort of ring, then she began to tighten it.

With my breasts stretched, my nipple was now being crushed.

'Uggghhh.'

It was intensely painful.

'He makes me wear these hours and hours.' She told me as she began the process of torturing my right nipple. 'Leaves me like it when he go out...and when he take them off...Davilia scream.'

I could well imagine.

I grimaced as she tightening the punishing clamp on my right nipple.

'He use pins too.' She continued ranting. 'Can you imagine what it like to spend hours with pins piercing your breasts ?'

I had a feeling I was about it find out.

It wasn't quite as bad as I imagined. A sharp prick and then it was gone but another followed. One of her hands cupped my right breast, the fingers squeezing, nails digging in. Another prick followed and another...

'Turn me into fucking pincushion, he does.'

It seemed an apt description, she must have used about thirty, piercing the flesh of my breasts; top, sides, bottom; I imagined my huge swollen globes punctured, the pressure in them oozing blood and fluid.

'Just peachy !' She used the chains clipped to my nipple rings to wobble my breasts.

I imagined her watching them sway, those blue eyes that had looked so downtrodden when I'd seen her trailing leashed behind Raximalik; now I knew why. I suppose I should have realised how he was abusing her when I'd first encountered her, kneeling at her husband's side in the blistering heat of the Mirkadan sun while he sat in the shade of a cafe awning; but I'd been too excited by the thrill of Mirkada then, too intent on revealing the secrets of the city to Kirsty and Priya as they shot their documentary.

'You drooling !' She slapped my pin decorated breasts and I screamed into my gag. 'He beat me when I drool round gag...' Her voice had became low and menacing.

I briefly wondered why men are so different; Mark liked to see me drool; he went through a phase of smearing honey on one of my ball gags before putting it in my mouth so I drooled more and it stayed put; I remembered him saying something about my first vilisqaz fitting where he'd seen me do it for the first time. Apparently, if he ever needed a little boost, he just had to imagine it and his cock went rigid.

'More ten lashes.' Davilia informed me.

'Ukkkshshhh.' I shook my head weakly.

I expect you wonder what I using.' Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked away from me. 'Wondering what it can be so painful.'

I assumed it was a rhetorical question.

'Answer me slut !' She lashed my back and I bucked in surprise and pain, my booted toes sliding on the floor and my tortured breasts bouncing as the weights hanging from my nipples jerked violently.

'Mskdsshh.'

'I tell you.' She struck me with it again. 'It bullwhip fashioned with steel core that darling husband draw through tray of ground glass before each use.'

The laid it across my back again.

'Hurt, doesn't it.'

I nodded vigourously.

'If he not satisfied by my pain, he rub salt into my back after he beats me. If I please him more, he simply leaves me to sweat in the sun.'

I could hear her anger rising and this whipping was just as brutal and the first thirty or so only this time as I danced in pain my and tortured breasts bounced it was almost too much.

'Nnnnnngggg.' I shook my head violently, my breasts swaying agonisingly.

It was way more than ten lashes and I'd drooled a lot more by the time she'd finished. I'd nearly pissed myself too.

'And I endure all this !' She continued her rant as I hung in my bonds panting, my heart pounding.

'Nng mre !' I shook my head weakly. 'Blsh.'

'Poor Sally !' She lifted my head. 'I plead with him too but he make no difference.

She let go and I could barely hold my head up.

'And I have not told you what he do to my clit, yet.'

I shook my head slightly but made no sound over my laboured breathing; my back and buttocks were on fire and my breasts and nipples were burning.

Her hand slid between my legs and she hooked my clit ring using it to pull me forward; I followed her as best I could, teetering on my toes as the strain on my spread arms directed new agonies into my tormented breasts.

'He have clamp for that too.' She fumbled with something and I felt a pressure on my clitoral hood above the piercing; a band around it that drew tight. She twisted it and it tightened; I screamed.

'You take little more weight here too.'

It felt like a lot more.

'How does feel ?'

'Nnnnnn.' I half shook my head and half nodded. What else could I do.

'What you filthy slut ? You say want more.'

'Nngggg.'

'But Davilia not showed you husband's anal toys yet.'

If Mark was going to appear on his charger, he really needed to do it soon.

Sally Frost was at her limit.


Chapter 20: Hourishini

'Sally !'

Someone was been calling my name but I couldn't respond. I remembered I was gagged and lifted my head weakly; I also tried to straighten my legs, pain rushing through every inch of my body. I was still standing, hanging really, spreadeagle, chained where the blonde had whipped me.

'Nnggg !' I murmured into my gag, I wasn't sure I could take another beating.

'Sally !' It was Taiarche. 'You're safe now.'

I whimpered my understanding. Safe, about to be freed...

'Take these off.'

The weights were lifted from my nipple rings and I whimpered loudly.

'Sally.' Taiarche was being stern. 'This will hurt.'

Damn right it will.

And fuck it did.

The weight came off my clit next and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

The rings holding my mitted hands were released and then the ones on my boots. Hands carried me and lay me on my back on something cool; soft leather my skin told me.

Fuck it hurt. My whole back felt raw.

My breasts were screaming their need to be freed and I lifted my mitted hands clumsily to them, cursing in pain around my gag as I knocked the pins and the clamps around my nipples.

'Hold her.' Taiarche's voice said.

Hands pinned my arms down.

What the fuck, I thought she was rescuing me.

'Sally ! This is really going to hurt.'

She began with the clamps screwed onto my nipples.

It's just as well I was gagged or the whole city would have heard me calling their First Lady a prize bitch.

'Gently.' An accented voice cautioned.

Inge ?

'I know what I'm doing.' Taiarche informed whoever had suggested such a kindness. 'Take the pins out of her other breast.'

The pins hurt less coming out. That was something I suppose.

'Cld !' I tried to say.

'What's she saying ?' The accented voice asked.

'Cld.' I repeated.

'I think she means this.' A third voice said; it was accented too but I was sure it wasn't Astrid.

I cursed again as the clit clamp was removed.

'Hold her head while I take out her gag.'

It was the last of the pain, for a while at least.

'Here.'

Something was thrust into my mouth and water flowed over my tongue.

'Careful.'

I choked but at least each time I spasmed, there was no more pain; nothing serious anyway.

'Get some cutters.' The first accented voice said.

'No need.' It was Taiarche.

Something pressed against my neck and I heard a click then the collar was removed from around my neck.

'Careful with her piercing.'

My eyes teared as my nasal piercing was removed and then the hood was pulled away.

It was strange, almost jarring, to feel the rush of cool air against my face. The light around me was dazzling and I squeezed my eyes shut.

When I opened them, Taiarche was there, crouching in front of me. She looked tired and very serious and I saw she was dressed in military fatigues in desert camouflage. I realised I had never seen her out of a vilisquaz before.

Her hand reached out and stroked my cheek. I tried to respond my hands were still locked in the mitts.

I wanted to talk but I'd been gagged for hours and my mouth wouldn't obey me; my tongue felt dry despite the recent mouthful of water I'd been given; when I licked my lips they were cracked and thickly coated. My tongue felt awkward, swollen, my lips too.

'Water.' Taiarche called and extended a hand to take the canteen she was offered.

She lifted my head and tipped a small swallow of water into my mouth.

I moistened my lips and my mouth was immediately filled with the taste of semen again.

I gagged and Taiarche took the water away.

'Led me.' It was the best I could manage and my words sounded rough and ill-formed.

I reached out with my mitted hand and took the bottle lifting it to my lips trying to sit up. The gesture felt hopelessly awkward, more stilted than my speech but with Taiarche's help, I managed to get to a partial sitting position and hold the bottle back to my lips.

My head spun for a few moment and I thought I might black out.

'Do you have keys to those too ?' The first accented voice sounded accusatory. I glanced in her direction and saw a woman with blonde hair and fierce blue eyes that reminded me of Astrid's. She wore desert fatigues too and blue beret.

'Yes.' Taiarche pressed the key to my bonds into her hands and stood.

There were others in the room, soldiers, men and women armed with automatic rifles; they too wore the blue berets of NATO and, as far as I could see, were mostly tall and blonde; northern Europeans of some sort. Swedish at a guess.

I realised that Taiarche had spoken to them in English.

The medic and her assistant began to release my wrists and ankles.

Actually, there was more pain. I'd been wearing toe boots for three months !

Even free of the mitts and boots I was pretty helpless.

I told the medic what had happened as she examined me, her hands pressing at my chest, listening to my heart and lungs. As she checked me over, her assistant removed the chains from my nipple rings and my thigh cuffs muttering an expletive in her native tongue as she reslised how they were attached to my labia.

I guess they must have assumed all this was done against my will.

I didn't try to tell them otherwise.

The final thing to come off was my breast rings; that hurt too.

I told the medic I was pregnant, had been pregnant, I didn't know if what had happened to me had affected my baby and after she'd checked me externally, she donned latex gloves and examined me down below, raising her eyebrows as she saw the tattoos on my labia; she took swabs from inside my vagina. Then she pushed her finger into my bottom.

After she'd decided that I was fit, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small portable electrical device.

'It's not really designed for this.' She said in her accented English. 'But I will do my best.'

We heard the heartbeat together and she smiled at me.

'There is one good thing here.' She said.

Taiarche reappeared. 'How is she ?'

'She is bruised and beaten but I think there is nothing majorly wrong. However, I can arrange for her to be taken to the field hospital if you wish.'

I shook my head. 'I'll be fine.'

The medic looked up at Taiarche who nodded. 'The hospitals are full. We should not overburden them.'

There was a call from the doorway. 'Sergeant Karlsson, there is a wounded man out here.'

The medic smiled. 'I must go.' She stuffed her equipment into her bag and left us.

'You are really okay, Sally ?'

I nodded. 'Yes, Mistress.' It just sort of slipped out. I'd spent the last three months calling women 'Mistress' and men 'Master'.

'What a good slave girl you are.' Taiarche smiled as the medic's assistant frowned.

Then the assistant left us.

'Can you stand ?'

I moved my legs off the chaise and tried to sit up. Even though my arms were free I struggled to use them but Taiarche supported me.

'What happened ?' I asked her.

'There was a military coup lead by Raximalik and supported by General Milicantasi' She looked serious, sad. There was more than tiredness in her dark eyes. 'My husband is dead.' She held back tears. 'Too many are dead. The general too. Raximalik is in custody.'

She looked at me, searching my eyes.

'What was done to you was unforgivable.'

We hugged and I heard her cry.

What was done to me might have been unforgivable and, even for my tastes, extreme but it had, in the end brought a swift resolution to the coup which was largely a military one; a final push from the 'old guard' to return Mirkada to its historic isolationism. However, the images of me and other girls strapped to rape racks had spread across the internet and, when the British and Swedish governments had learned that its citizens were involved they had acted swiftly and decisively. UN resolution 4637 had authorised the use of force and a Swedish airborne battalion supported by special forces had mobilised. It had taken six days and a couple of strategically placed aircraft carriers (one US and one Russian, I later learnt) but the battalion had been deployed swiftly and effectively even if it had taken the UN more than a few days to agree on action. The Mirkardan army was no match for such an assault and, in truth, most of the troops were more than happy to lay down their weapons given half a chance.

There had been pockets of resistance, some street fighting but it had all been over in twenty four hours. Raximalik had been seized in the palace and General Milicantasi had taken his own life.

Sadly, there were casualties. Silaxis had stood in the square refusing to submit to the authority of the new regimen and General Milicantasi had shot him.

'His stand was reckless but then, he always was a courageous man.' Taiarche told me. 'And it allowed me and many others to escape into city.'

'Governor.' A voice from behind made Taiarche turn and look up.

The man who had spoken was tall and blonde, blue eyed; in many ways he reminded me of Mark. His epaulettes suggested a senior rank.

'Colonel ?' Taiarche stood wiping away tears.

'The city is secure.' He said gravely. 'We must get the administration running again.'

'Yes, colonel.' She turned back to me. 'Sally, will you be okay ?'

I had a sudden realisation that I didn't want to be left behind. I pushed myself to my feet. 'Let me help.' My legs didn't quite work and I stumbled. I'd been wearing toe boots so long that standing without them felt wrong. Taiarche caught me.

'Are you sure ?'

'Yes, I'm fine.' I lied. Then I smiled. 'But I really need to clean my teeth.'

Someone wrapped me in a blanket (it hadn't occurred to me that I was naked) and Taiarche helped me towards a bathroom of the old royal apartments Raxilalik and his wife had occupied. The shower was probably the most beautiful I've ever enjoyed except maybe for those I've shared with Mark. No, maybe it was the best; I got to run my hands all over my body, my own body, touching my breasts and belly and my pussy and playing with my own nipple rings. The rings ! They were huge a quarter inch thick gold rings about an inch across with no visible join through my nipples and a matching one through my clit; that explained why Inge was struggling to get them back in each night, she was progressively stretching my piercings.

Then, as I emerged from the shower and wiped the steam from the mirror I was confronted with something that made me stop and gasp. A flash of red my confused brain couldn't quite interpret.

I wiped the steam from the mirror.

Fuck me ! I really had turned into into Bondage Barbie. Well, the hair was wrong; was Cindy the brunette ? And, of course, she had an overgrown buzz cut. The redness of my lips shone in the mirror and not only that, they were larger too; like my tits; huge ! I wiped away more steam then reached up to touch my lips, they had a lush fullness and were strikingly scarlet; I'd thought they had been swollen after the tattooing process then, I guess I must have gotten used to them but they'd clearly been injected too. All in all, the effect was rather sexy, my new lush lips curled into a smile revealing white teeth; the beauty fairies had been busy while Snow White lay chained in her casket. Bizarrely, three months in the hood had done wonders for my complexion or perhaps it was the bloom or pregnancy.

I wiped the mirror further to look at the rest of my body. The flowers on my breasts were not a surprise, they were similar to the ones that had been painted there when I'd been Taiarche's handmaiden at Silaxis' inauguration; flower petals as if they were opening around my nipples. They were pretty too although the overall effect was spoiled by the bruising on my nipples and the red rings around the base of my breasts where the rings had been locked. There were more than a few tiny red marks where the needles had been.

I should have been outraged by what had been done to me; should have made a resolution that I didn't want a part of this anymore but, as I stood looking at myself, my thoughts changed. Every women likes to see herself in a positive light and I was in good shape (in a Bondage Barbie/Submissive Cindy kind of way) even if a little bruised and battered; there were welts all over my back an buttocks, the skin abraded and tender; sitting and lying down was going to to painful for a few days. Inge's training had clearly kept my body in shape even if I hadn't done much other than fuck for the last month; but that burns a fair few calories too and, if there had been a little cellulite on my thighs and buttocks when this all started, the bloom of pregnancy had filled it out giving me a smooth outline.

If I looked carefully, I thought I could see the hint of a swelling in my belly but maybe that was just my fancy.

All in all, I found myself thinking that, if Ashley Renee ever threw in the towel or hung up her nipple clamps or whatever bondage models did, I'd be in with a shot at modeling; elbows touch - check !, long legs - check, willing and able to tolerate some pretty intense shit - hell yes ! If I got to do it before I gave birth, I'd probably be able to do a pretty fair Summer Cummings impression too from the chest up.

Mark was going to be so proud.

The thought of him made me feel suddenly unsteady and unwelcome tears pushed into my eyes.

No, I was never going to... How could I even think that I might enjoy bondage or submission after this ?

But, fuck me ! I'd been transformed into every man's sex toy; no wonder they were queuing up to fuck me; those tits were beautiful and the piercings just screamed submission.

If I ever got to wear a bra again, I was going to have to buy some new bigger ones with strategic holes for my nipple rings.

But I wasn't sure I wanted to.

Slaves should be kept naked; their bodies on display.

And I'd have to stay a slave as I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to walk in anything other than toe boots again.

There was one more thing to check out; my labia.

Lifting my leg up onto the basin, I flashed my pussy in the mirror and there is was staring back at me; a summary of my current status.

'Slave-Whore.' One word on each side; 'Slave' in English on the right and 'Whore' in Mirkadan script on the left, the letters spaced around my labial piercings. Anyone who used me, had used me, would know what I was. Fuck ! My labia were plumper too and had clearly undergone the same treatment as my lips; I had the pussy of a twenty one year old again; I just hoped she didn't ask for it back. I couldn't resist turning round and bending over to see what it looked like from that view, parting my lips with my fingers like a good cunt should if her hands were not bound.

I stood up and smiled; if...when...Mark came back, he was in for a hell of a treat.

I'd been in constant bondage for three months; my whole body was stiff but not half as stiff as my husband was going to be when he saw his Slave-Whore.

The thought of him binding me and playing with my body brought such a wave sexual pleasure, I had to steady myself before I could do anything else.


Chapter 20: Making History

As well as cleaning my teeth, I shaved myself; fortunately there was a safety razor and I found a new blade for it. My legs and pussy were very rough; those holding me had really not understood how to manage a pampered pleasure slave even if they'd known exactly how to treat her.

In three months inside the hood, my hair had grown about two inches (no grey roots - Yes !) and for a moment, I thought I might keep it like that; but I didn't. I soaped the sides of my head and shaved them leaving the central scalp-lock that Hourishini had sported. Then I washed the remains of my hair, squirted on some perfume and did my make up. It wasn't the best I've even done, I'd barely used my arms for three months and I struggled to stop my hand shaking, but perfection wasn't what I needed; I like to think I got closer to racy starlet than tart but, if I didn't, it wouldn't be the first time I'd done 'slutty' in Mirkada. So, I went for plenty of eyeliner and mascara to balance the scarlet lips and a lot of blusher to highlight my cheeks. Davilia might have been a bitch (even of she'd been driven to it by Raximalik) but she knew about pampering her body and had a make-up collection most girls would die for.

I knew what was coming.

Actually, it was probably thirty minutes of freedom. A girl has to look her best if she's going to be seen on the world news.

Then, naked, the foreign whore presented herself for binding.

I was given one of Taiarche's old vilisqaz, a chain one with an elaborate 'bra' that draped across my huge mounds and gave them no support whatsoever and glistening white thigh boots. The collar fitted snugly, high and elegant; there was no corset but Masia used chains from my nipple rings as suspenders for the boots. Mark would have loved it ! I got a butt plug back too and then my arms were back in bondage, folded behind my back in what was essentially a full reverse prayer tie but with my arms strapped into a leather sheath that matched my boots, the tip of which was chained to the back of my collar.

I knew the design, of course; there was a painting of Hourshini (a modern reproduction) in one of Taiarche's apartments though the face in the picture was unmistakably Taiarche's. The sexy little minx had probably worn the vilisqaz for her husband and he'd had it immortalised. It certainly had the feel of a bedroom vilisquaz. Even by Mirkardan standards it was pretty kinky.

The original painting was a favourite postcard that visitors to the city liked to buy.

'I will bridle you downstairs.' Masia said in a touching display of lenience. Inge would certainly never have given me such largess. She didn't spare my nipples though, clipping diamond pendants to them and then another between my legs.

I tried not to think of Silaxis as I was lead back to Taiarche, my leash clipped to my clit ring.

I turned heads as I descended the stairs into the main hall; Mirkardans and NATO troopers looking up a this bizarre character from Mirkadan history and, after a moment, the local troopers gave a cheer much to the confusion of the blue berets.

Taiarche was in her office, sitting at her desk studying some papers when I came in. Sasha stood to one side holding the desert fatigues, 'governor' Taiarache was once again a Mirkadan woman (albeit with her arms free) in a white strappy vilisqaz that clung tightly to her slim elegant body. As she looked up I could see a high snug collar emphasising her long slender neck against the long dark hair that hung loose around her shoulders and the white leather criss-crossing her chest. For a moment, I looked enviously at the little leather cups nurturing her pert little breasts; my own were already aching from the tight steel rings around their bases. Beneath the desk I could see shiny white leather toe boots like my own.

'Welcome back.' The acting governor said.

'Thank you, Mistress.'

I was lead to the corner of the office where I dropped to my knees to be bridled; helpless once again, kneeling, gagged and blindfolded where a slave should be at her mistress' side.

It was a long day and, perhaps I should not have rushed to get back into bondage. Taiarche was clearly busy; however, my presence did count; many who came and went commented that I was there; most probably knew what had happened to me, some might even have been involved but the fact that Hourishini was there still at her mistress' side seemed to give them cheer. A few came over and touched me for luck.

I had somehow become a symbol of Mirkada.

Until now, Sally Frost had studied history, now she was part of it.

The acting governor took dinner in her private apartments with her loyal slave kneeling beside her enjoying the attentions of her tired mistress and doing her best to provide support. Mirkadan women touch shoulders as a symbol of solidarity although, of course, Taiarche had her arms free.

Once she had removed my bridle, we talked a little about Silaxis and about Mark and I learned of the events of the previous few weeks in which Taiarche had hidden in the city among the population and then escaped to make contact with the loyal faction of the city's army that had been sent on manoeuvres just before the coup had taken place.

Then Taiarche stood and tugged on her slave's clit leash.

'We have talked enough.' She said.

'Yes, Mistress.' I rose obediently.

She lead me to her bed and I remembered kneeling to one side of it watching enviously as she and Astrid had played together, Astrid helpless in bondage, squirming with pleasure as she had been forced to pleased the lovely brunette.

I remembered sharing the bed with Silaxis too.

'Shall I help you undress, Mistress ?' I asked.

'You look a little tied up to me, Slave.' She laughed, reaching out with her finger to set my nipple pendants swinging then turned away walking across to the bell pull to summon one of her maids.

She had called me 'Slave' !

God, she was gorgeous; slender and elegant; walking with infinite grace in her strappy toe boots. She turned knowing I was watching.

'Besides, that's not why I'm going to keep you.'

She gestured to the floor and I dropped to me knees my heart suddenly pounding.

I watched as she summoned Masia to help her undress; watched as the pretty red-headed maid undid the tight straps around my mistress' body. I could have done it, of course; even strictly bound as I was now; it certainly wouldn't be the first time I'd used my mouth to undress someone and I'd practiced extensively with Inge.

When Masia had finished, she handed Mistress a crop and left us.

Taiarche walked back towards me.

She was just as beautiful naked and barefoot; especially holding the short black leather crop. Just looking at her made my pussy flood and my nipples harden.

'And why do you keep your slave, Mistress.' I knelt looking up at her trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.

'I'd have thought that was obvious.' She teased one of my stiffly erect nipples with the crop making the pendant clipped to it swing, it was like a divine torture, the tug on the sensitive, swollen flesh making my aching breasts throb with delight.

I knew what she was going to say before she said it and the thought made me shudder with excitement.

'You are my Hourishini.' She said simply.

I knew my place. I was there as an accessory, a pet, a sex toy, a body to be exhibited, played with; in Mistress' case, I was a tongue to be used, hot and willing; I was there to be bound and, if mistress chose, punished.

I looked at the whip hoping she would use it on me.

I felt almost shy as my naked Mistress came and being drew me up onto the huge four-poster; Taiarche's slave, her plaything, there to please her. She made me kneel up, my legs spread wide, as she checked my bonds; it was some time since I'd been kept in bondage as punishing as this and my shoulders ached but I didn't care. This morning I'd been a slave and, after a brief moment of freedom, I was a slave again.

Just like Hourishini.

'I think you can manage an hour or two more.' Mistress concluded. 'I like to see you completely helpless.' She pressed her body against my back, her hands slid round and cupping my breasts; then she unclipped the nipple pendants.

I gasped as clamps were opened on my crushed nipples.

'You're such a pain slut.' Mistress whispered.

'Yes, Mistress.' The pain subsided to a dull, delicious ache. 'You will hurt me, won't you ?'

'As if you have any say in the matter.' She kissed my neck above the steel collar as her hand slid down to my clit.

I whimpered as the clamp came off, pain flaring for a moment between my thighs fading swiftly to lead a hot carnal need.

'Whip me, Mistress.'

She held the crop in her right hand; it was tantalisingly close to my breasts.

'Whip your little slave-whore.' Desire was threatening to overwhelm me, perhaps it was the relief of being rescued or Mistress rescuing me and of her being here now to hold me.

Her fingers played with the chains running down from my nipples to my thigh cuffs.

'Keep me in chains, Mistress.'

'I've told you, my hot little whore.' She was whispering in my ear, her body pressed against mine, her hands teasing my helpless body. 'You have no choice in the matter.'

She reached between my legs and freed my pussy lock; the dildo slid out onto the bed in a rush of my juices and I tried hard not to let the climax rise above a type one.

Her finger slid into my clit ring.

Another type one.

'I own you now.' She whispered. 'And I will certainly keep you in chains.'

'Thank you, Mistress.' I was going to cum again if she didn't let go of my clit ring. I was probably going to cum again if she did.

'These rings are welded shut.' She told me.

'Yes, Mistress.'

'They mark you as a slave.'

'I thought slavery was illegal in Mirkada.' I teased hoping she might punish me.

'I'm in charge here now.' She said in response. 'I make the rules.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I lost the battle and shuddered to a type two.

'These rings will be used to keep you restrained.' She tugged on one of my nipple rings brushing my nipple as she did so. 'Slave.'

'Yes, Mistress.' I turned my head, I wanted to kiss her but she caught my jaw and held it firmly, looking back at me.

'It's what you want, isn't it, Houri ?'

'Yes, Mistress.' I looked at her beautiful dark eyes. My voice was shaking.

'You want to be my sex toy, my little bondage pet, my whipping girl. You want to be kept caged and chained and abused like the submissive whore you are.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

She relased my jaw and took hold of my hair, pulling my head back.

'Please, Mistress...' I wasn't sure what I was asking for, I just wanted to call her Mistress.

The crop struck me hard across the breasts and I felt them bounce, the chains covering them dancing and jingling, the rings in my nipples stretched gently by the chains fastened to them which clicked as they moved.

I climaxed as the whip came again, my helpless body in thrall to my mistress' dominance, pleasure flooding through me. It was a massive orgasm and I could do nothing but enjoy it; enjoy it as Mistress pushed me onto my side and whipped my helpless body, my buttocks and the top of my thighs and then, as I rolled onto my back and spread my legs, the inside of my thighs and my spasming cunt making me cum again and again.

I woke in Mistress' arms with her taste still in my mouth. After my orgasm she had commanded me to tongue her and I had dutifully done so, enjoying her cries of pleasure as I raked my tongue over her pussy and gave her something of the pleasure she had just wrung from me.

Sasha was opening the curtains and Masia was pouring coffee into a large drinking bowl.

I tried to resist as Masia pulled me from the bed but Mistress commanded me and I reluctantly obeyed her, allowing the maid to lead me to the room where my cage was kept using a finger hooked into my nipple ring.

My arms were still in the reverse prayer position and I couldn't move them when Masia released me. Despite being free, I thus simply stood as she cuffed my hands behind my back and finished removing the rest of my vilisqaz. My breasts were so swollen, she had difficulty pulling the rings off and I was left with the indents of the two steel rings, red and sculpted on my chest.

She ordered me onto my knees and gave me my morning enema then she pulled out my butt plug.

'You smell like a whore.' Masia told me as she lead me into the shower.

'Yes, Mistress.'

She smiled at this and used my nipple ring to pull me into the jet of water where she washed me down, soaping my body and washing my hair.

When I was clean, she dried me and did my make up. Her efforts were way better than mine but I still looked like a tart.

The vilisqaz laid out for me was gold; a match for my nipple rings. It was similar to the one I'd worn before but far more beautiful. The gold collar was high and elegant and Masia began by locking it around my neck; I shuddered as I heard the lock click.

'Beautiful, isn't it.' She held up a make up mirror to show me.

It was impossible to see the join.

'There is no key.' She told me. 'It can only be removed by being cut off.'

My expression must have changed because she smiled.

'You are Mistress' slave now.' She said. 'This is to mark her possession of you.'

This wasn't a Mirkadan thing; the collar was simply to help guide the woman even if it was sometimes locked on; it was always removed when not needed, unless, of course the couple wanted it to stay; this was pure fetish.

Then came fine chains from the collar to breast rings, thankfully larger than the pervious ones; there were locked in place too with a chain around my back and by fine chains to the front pair of labial rings like a bizarre kinky swimsuit. Masia used little padlocks and, I was relieved to see she kept the keys to these. Larger chains ran from my nipples to the front of thigh cuffs which were also fitted with fine chains that were clearly designed to connect to my labial rings.

'Do the thigh cuffs come off ?' I asked as she connected them.

'We have a spiked pair for when you're a naughty girl.' Masia responded curtly.

I kept silent after that.

Then my wrists were freed only for my hands to be locked again into leather mitts; white ones and the tips of these were clipped to my nipple rings; another chain was passed through my elbows and they were pulled together; needless to say this one was beaded too and was, once again, clipped to my clit ring. I think it was a little tighter than the last one and the beads were a little larger.

The boots came next, knee high and locked in place by chains to the thigh cuffs and gold cuffs around my ankles; I was given three short links between my ankle cuffs. Binding the legs is not usually a part of the vilisqaz except when a fully bridled and thus blindfolded woman is left alone outside while her husband attends to an errand. However, Masia clearly expected me to walk with my ankles cuffed. This was clearly a little more of the fetish influence that Taiarche was following.

I wasn't surprised to find the bridle had a ring gag; not the largest I'd worn but enough to stretch my mouth wide and allow my tongue free egress. It would take most erect cocks too. The straps of the bridle were white leather to match the mitts and the boots, running up the side of my face from the gag strap and steadied by a strap across my forehead; there was another strap under my jaw and another across my cheekbones. I was going to have to get used to being displayed in front of people I could see. I hoped it didn't make them more reticent to touch me for luck.

With my ankles hobbled it took me sometime to reach Taiarche's office and, by that time, she was preparing to go out onto the balcony for her own inauguration. It only required a little jewelry to make me more presentable; jeweled pendants clipped to my nips and clit (what girl doesn't like to be dripping with diamonds ?); and, of course, my nose ring with its little bell (gold to match my outfit) and then I was ready.

I had stood there before no more than a few months before, one of Taiarche's handmaidens; then she'd been First Lady; now she was to be Governor. Sally Frost, the historian, knew was a quick and dirty fix to a short and brutal problem but, constitutionally, it was legal and, if history teaches us anything, it is that nature abhors a vacuum (or is that physics ?). There were, no doubt some who would not welcome a lady governor; Raximalik for a start but he no longer had a say in the matter.

Whatever dissent might be planned, the blue berets and loyal troops in the square were there to ensure nobody made a fuss and, overall, the event went without a hitch; a sure sign of stability returned in front of the world's media. I wondered if, with the coup over, the world media might return to commenting on the strange customs of the city and, perhaps the 'Professor of Kink' who'd embraced them. As a caged slave-whore, I might not find out for some time though, presumably, my husband would gallop up on his white charger and rescue me at some point.

I just hoped it wasn't too soon.

After the ceremony, the new governor went to meet her people. It would have been a lot quicker if she'd released my ankles but then, she wanted to meet her people and her people wanted to meet her; and to touch me.

She lead me out into the square by the nose ring and I hobbled behind her with tiny steps on the huge boots, my massive breasts bouncing, the pendants swinging and my chains clicking with every step. It was intensely stimulating, the whole costume (if I can call it that) seemed designed to excite me even if I wasn't plugged anymore. It was, of course, designed to display me too and that it did; little Hourishini was the belle of the ball and everyone wanted a piece of her; vilisquaz clad women pressed their bodies against me, often directed towards me by their husbands; they rubbed against me, smiling around their gags; nipple pendants hooked in mine and straps constantly caught in the chains that hung from my nipples. Men touched me openly, their hands rubbing my breasts and setting my nipple pendants swinging, others slapped my bottom and a great many kissed me, a few pushing their tongues through my ring gag.

Taiarche hugged and kissed them in return, tweaking women's nipples and, at times sliding her hand across bare or plugged sexes; she slapped bottoms too, sometimes with the crop she carried and the women squealed with delight.

And by the end, they were chanting her name: Taiarche, the vanquisher of foes; Queen Jazrina reborn and mistress of the foreign whore. There was something nationalistic about this; about Mirkadan's triumphing over those from 'beyond the city walls'. Jazrina had always portrayed herself as a warrior queen and, while this had been exhibitionism and spin at the start of her reign, she had proven herself later on; vanquishing foes and bringing home the spoils of war; not slaves, of course; but conquered 'thralls'.

Keeping Hourishini in chains had thus become a symbol of Mirkada's dominance.

Who was Sally Frost to dispute history.


Epilogue

I had to ask.

I was kneeling beside Mistress' desk in my vilisqaz with my hands clipped to my nipple rings and my elbows pulled back. It was late, the celebrations had run on long into the night and I had endured another day of constant heavy petting from Taiarche's loyal worshippers. After an evening of being with her people, the new governor had diligently returned ot her office.

'Mistress.' I tried to keep my voice steady. 'Is there any word from Mark ?'

Surely, I thought, my husband had been in contact.

'Oh...' Mistress looked, for a moment unsettled, the mask she had worn all day slipping. 'I meant to tell you, there was a problem with his visa, he had to go back to the UK to sort it out.' She looked away from me and I knew she was lying. 'I think it may take...er...several months to sort it out.'

'Oh.' I shrugged.

It was exactly what I'd expected.

I might have asked more but there was a knock at the door.

'Come !'

The door opened and a man came in, a young Mirkadan officer.

'Ah, Captain.' Tairache said, rising.

'Ma'am.' He bowed formally.

He was typical Mirkadan, red hair and pale skin; perhaps taller and broader than most.

I recognised his voice immediately.

'I wanted to thank you for your work.' Taiarche said walking towards him.

I fought down the urge to say something but couldn't stop myself.

'Mistress...'

Taiarche turned. 'Silence, Slave !'

I looked at her shocked.

'Captain Comarchinai is a hero.' Mistress informed me. 'He stayed in the city, infiltrated General Milicantasi's rebels and fed information to the troops loyal to me.'

I glared up at the captain.

'We've met.' I said cooly.

The captain smiled down at me.

'An agent must keep up appearances.' He told me with a smile.

'Oh !' Taiarche seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing.

'The foreign whore is very...capable.' The captain told my mistress.

Taiarche laughed and looked at me.

'And the captain has a big cock and knows how to use it.' I said somewhat pointedly.

Taiarche laughed again.

'Well, Captain.' Taiarche smiled. 'It seems the state may not be able to reward you but your work was not without its advantages.'

She looked down at me and then turned back to him.

'Please feel free to come and take advantage of it again.'

Captain Comarchinai looked down at me, appraising my body.

He really was handsome.

'Thank you, Governor. I will.'

I blushed furiously as he bowed to Taiarche again then turned and left.

I knelt with my head down, aware that Taiarche was looking at me.

'You have clearly won hearts and minds in Mirkada.' She said.

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Now, I think it's time we went to bed.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Mistress Taiarche unclipped my leash from its hook.

I rose to my feet and followed her to bed.

Fuck knows what Mark was going to say about all this when he finally came back to me but I had a feeling I was going to be in for a hell of a spanking.