By popular demand, yet another fragment. My apologies to those whofind the lack of an entire novel frustrating. The chapters rangefrom 15-40 pages, a bit long and tiring for this medium. However,if there is enough demand, I'll post them. (*sigh* what you peoplecan talk me into) I have a short story that deals with the Dark Lordas a youth. It has a little incest and the main focal point is abeating. The beating is not for erotic purposes. Is there interest?To all of you whose letters from me bounced off the mailer-daemon,thank you for the encouragement. If you wanted reprints, write me,I'll send them. All comments, critiques and flames are welcome.
Slave of Matth formerly Angel the Succubus
(Margin apologies as necessary!)______________________________________________________________________________
Elna waited in her master's bedchamber, bored as always. One harem waslike another, and the Dark Lord was only moderately inventive. She hoped hewould not be long with his guests this night, since he had told her there wassomething new to try. She wondered what it was; probably nothing she hadn'tdone before. It was not that Elna was jaded, exactly, but her background hadaccustomed her to nearly everything. She had been born in the harem of thePasha of Sud, her mother was a bred slave, the product of several generationsof selective slave breeding, even as she was. Her father had been an arenagladiator, a hero in Sud. He had bought his freedom when she was a child, sothe news that filtered in said. She had been trained to give pleasure to aman from her childhood. Her earliest memories were of her mother, or theother women teaching her how to properly bathe another person, and how to usethe scented unguents the Nilgard men were fond of. She had been sold to a noble when she was twelve. There she had learnedto put her training to use. Now, she had been sold several times and hadended in the Dark Lord's possession. She did not really fear her master, assome of the others did. She knew what she was and what she could expect fordisobedience. She sighed again, and glanced at the silver and onyx mirror tocheck her flawless reflection yet again. From across the room, the slave girlin the mirror smiled back at her in a vision of feminine perfection. Pleased with herself, Elna reached behind her head, dividing her hairwith her fingers, and swept the two bunches forward so that they fell over hershoulders to cover her breasts, ever so slightly. Her master had occasion tofancy this particular look; it added a touch of mystery to an already enticingpackage. Using the mirror to carefully arrange her hair for just the righteffect, she swept the excess back and behind her again. She did not want toomuch covered, she was no blushing virgin, but too little coverage lookedsloppy. Wanting an equal amount behind as well as in front, to appearbalanced, she worked on herself for many minutes. There was no hurry, for ifshe heard her master's footsteps, she could always flip the whole behind heragain and resume her position before he saw. Nothing would be lost and therewould always be another time. The look had suddenly appealed to her and shewas determined to make it work. Hopefully, she would be prepared by the timeher master remembered her and left his guests. The Dark Lord climbed the stairs of his tower, pondering the situationhe found himself in. There were petitions to be read, and letters to beanswered, in addition to battle-plans and floor plans and execution papers. And to top the mess off was Elna. He had summoned her earlier, thinking totake his mind off the work, but now she seemed just another duty like theother things waiting for him. He bounced the double leather cuffs in his hand. They were a gift fromLady Lavinia of Pergamum. She had sent them as part of the annual taxes onher establishment. He had been considering a way to combine the business withhis pleasure, even as she did. Lady Lavinia's business was pleasure, and herhouse in Pergamum catered to every whim its patrons might have. It mightwork. As he climbed the last set of stairs to his bed chamber, he saw Elnakneeling on the fur at the foot of his bed, waiting for him in all her beauty. He noted she had taken the liberty of daring to cover herself with her fieryred hair, a most becoming look that invited his immediate attention. Shewould be the ideal one to try this on. She was the most limber and the leastlikely to be uncomfortable with the position he had in mind. He paused at themassive desk to gather his paperwork and a quill and inkhorn. Setting the things he picked up down on the table beside his bed, hebegan to strip down. Laying back on the bed, half-propping himself againstthe headboard, he beckoned Elna to join him. She carefully lay down besidehim, and he immediately swept aside the long silky hair covering her rightbreast, in order to caress it. Feeling the urge to take her here and now, and forget about thediversion he had planned earlier, he reluctantly drew away from her lusciousbreasts, leaving the left partly covered, peeking out from behind the thinveil of tantalizingly red hair. "Business before pleasure tonight, slavegirl," he sighed, peering down into her soft emerald eyes and seeing his ownlust reflected back, coupled with Elna's own burning desires. "Face awayfrom me, Elna," he said, "and kneel." Elna complied. He reached for the cuffs. There were two in the set,both shaped like figure eights. He buckled the smaller loop around her wristand then pulled her arm back to fasten it to her ankle. Repeating the processon the other side, he tugged them to make sure they were secure. Then heturned her to face him. "All right, slave girl. If you can arouse me, you can have me. Infact, I would like to be inside of you by no more than ten minutes. It willbe your duty to maintain this arousal while I work, until I have time to useyou properly. You will have three chances, and failure is always punished." Turning over a small hourglass, he looked expectantly at Elna. Glancingat the time piece, she saw that it was a five minute timer. She arched herback, presenting her full breasts for his enjoyment. They were duly acceptedand she felt him begin to stir. Bracing her hands on the mattress, she rubbedalong the length of his shaft lightly, pressing it between her soft flesh andhis taut belly. It fit nicely between her thighs and she rubbed some more,aroused herself. "You seem flammable tonight, my master," she said, looking at him. Bothof his hands were gripping her breasts and he was squeezing themarhythemically. He opened one eye and looked at her. "You were not given permission to speak, slave girl. What matters isnot my flammability, but your heat." She arched properly, leaning slightlyforward, and drew him into her before he could reach for the sandglass. "As my master commanded, he is within his slave in the allotted time,"she said softly. He could not help but smile at her proficiency andresourcefulness. "Good, but that is only the beginning. Turn around, and lean forward." Wondering what he was planning, and moving carefully within the bonds so asnot to lose him, she turned. The Dark Lord slid into a more sitting position, so that Elna's body wasflush with his as she kissed the scar that marked his kneecap. Her back nowprovided him with a horizontal surface on which to work and the rhythmicpulsations she was creating would keep him aroused. He leaned over to the table, being careful not to dislodge the girl, andpicked up the stack of papers that awaited his attention. Setting them on herback, he began to sort through his work, placing the less urgent items on theback of her neck. The first piece of business was a petition from the ruling druidichierarchy of Wax. They demanded his authority to hunt down and, as they putit, enlighten any remaining followers of Angrith of the Wood. He saw theywere planning a witch-hunt as well, in order to, as they said, "Rid ourgracious lord's lands of workers of ill fortune and malice, such as consortwith evil spirits or worship other than Our Blessed Mother Celestra." Thepetition was denied. Elna quivered a bit when he stabbed the quill down tofinish his exclamation point. The hedge-witches were of no concern to him,and he could not care less whether one was foolish enough to follow Celestraor Angrith. He had seen no evidences of any power there, not even the humansort. The nature worshippers claimed neutrality, or withdrawal as he saw it. He would not give his approval to any sect within the Empire. He set the reply aside to dry. A letter from Rima and Paloken was next. Jame would be duly brought to court this year. Rima had a few words to sayabout his curse, as she called the Power. She believed it was leaving himnow, and praised Vanada for several lines. A mild oath formed on the DarkLord's lips at that statement. If the stupid bitch had crushed Jame's Power,she would pay. That letter needed no reply. The third letter was an announcement from Landsend, called Zenia onimperial maps in honor of the Dark Lord's youngest sister, whom he had marriedoff to Sharmat, ruler of that province, to seal the alliance between theEmpire and the desert folk who dwelt on the rich northern coast of theZeimlich Sea. The letter was from Sharmat himself, announcing that he and hisfavorite wife, the Princess Zenia beht Llewella, would be arriving for thisyear's imperial New Year's celebrations. He apologized for neglecting theirduties to do so in the past, but the Princess Zenia had been heavy with childor exhausted from bearing his sons for the last few years, and hence unable totravel. She would accompany him this year, and Sharmat promised gifts to makeup for their past absences. The Dark Lord set the letter aside and grinnedbroadly. It had been five years since he had seen Zenia, and gifts from thenorthern deserts always proved to be as fascinating as they were valuable--especially give Sharmat's profound sense of irony and his flair for theunusual. This letter required no response. Elna maintained the rhythmic pulses, varying the speed and strength. Muscle control was important in a concubine, that lesson had been drilled intoher head as soon as she could understand it. She had kept men aroused forhours at a time this way, and this looked to be one of those sessions. Whenher master leaned over to put a document on the table, she shifted a bit. Herlegs were tingling, and she flexed her toes to keep the circulation going. The Dark Lord noticed her movement. "Position a bit uncomfortable, slave girl?" he asked. She nodded. "With what you're doing I may need to take a breather from the affairs ofstate. You make a most tempting desk." "Thank you, Master," she whispered. She had been breathing shallowly toavoid spilling the inkhorn he had set between her shoulder blades. She gaspedsoftly as he ran the end of the quill along the side of her body, tracing hercurves. "Three more documents and then I'll stop for a bit," he promised,feeling her clench tightly around him. The soft odor of her arousal wasbeginning to reach him. It was a scent he preferred over most of the perfumesmany of his harem girls wore. It affirmed his power over them, that he coulddrive them to such states of need while he remained mostly unaffected, usingthem merely because he wanted to, not from any great need. He mused absentlyon the fact that his sexual needs had never been unfilled for more than amonth at a time since he had discovered the drive. The names and faces hadlong since blurred into a long continuous spectrum, where only a few remaineddistinct. Putting the next line of thought, concerning how many lovelies hehad owned and discarded in his past, out of his mind, he reached for the nextdocument, Elna's musk growing stronger all the time. After the second piece of work, he found he could no longer concentrate;the scent was too strong. A small pool of dampness had collected on his bellyfrom her, and she had nipped his kneecap more than once. Admirably, she hadnot convulsed or even tensed strongly as so many of his more orgasmic girlsdid. She had concentrated on controlling herself so that she might notdisturb his work. He cleared her back of papers and set the inkhorn carefully on thebedside table where it would not be disturbed or overturned. He slid backdown to a three-quarters lying position, and turned her back to face him. "Enough of this, slave girl. Finish what you began," he commanded. Sheknelt atop him, her cuffs securely holding her to the position. She began aslow spiral of her hips as she raised and lowered herself the scant distanceshe was able to. Tired from the day, and his head aching from all therequests, usually written in an overly flowery manner with highly inventivespelling, he relaxed and let Elna soothe him. Soft whimpers came from her as she moved on him. He watched throughhalf closed eyes, roughly massaging her perfect breasts. He could see why hertype was bred in hopes of producing more slaves. He might have just that donebefore the two in the dungeon were eliminated. They were strong and one hadseemed intelligent, a fit match for the lovely slave. He slid a careful thumbinto the cleft of the mons. Finding her engorged clitoris, he rubbed itgently, not wanting to hurt her. She arched her back, rubbed against his handharder and cried out in ecstacy. Elna rubbed the swollen saddle between her legs against his stomach andthumb, trying to move sensuously, but knowing she was not. Her movements weretoo strong, too desperate. As the shock waves shook her, time and again, sherubbed more desperately, not wanting the sensation to end. "Enough, slave girl. You are exhausting me just watching you." Elnacollapsed in a sobbing, gasping heap on his chest, barely maintaining enoughcontrol to keep him inside. He carefully braced her and rolled them over. Elna lay on her back, with her wrists cuffed to her ankles, and her legsspread wide. She was still warm and tight as well as soaking wet. He noted withdistaste the damp patch forming beneath her was already the size of a goldpiece. Hazards of multi-orgasmic women, he thought, beginning to pump her. The stain would soon turn white and give trouble to the girl with laundryduty. He would make Elna change the bed before he slept in it tonight. She writhed beneath him like a wild creature, but never fought. Themotion enhanced the pleasure for both, and was well worth it. Most laid sostill while he took them, perhaps only stroking or kissing him. He consideredsummoning Elna more often; or perhaps just keeping her up here for a few daysuntil she had exhausted her repertoire. He climaxed at last, the pleasure tainted by the thought of the work yetto be done. He rolled off of the girl, and drew her in awkwardly, hampered byher odd positions and the fact that she was still writhing a bit with her eyesshut. As he kissed her, he felt the last tension in her body go limp and sheopened her eyes. He carefully unbuckled the cuffs, releasing the slave girlfrom her awkward position. "Thank you, Master," she said, her voice still husky. "Not often do youhave time to heat me to that point, and a slave girl is grateful." "It is not every girl I own that is as responsive as you are, and it isa pleasure to have you so aroused," he responded. "Even if it is only yourduty," he added sharply. "Now I have more work to do and I need your backagain." He scooted back into a sitting position. "Drape across my lap onyour belly... That's good." He retrieved his work and set to it again, leaving Elna, still aroused,to her own thoughts. The time passed interminably slowly. The quill tendedto tickle if her master used too much pressure, and the location of theinkhorn was again arousing. He had inserted the slightly pointed tip intoher, and she knew he would retrieve it covered with both of their juices.
(Note: FYI: my bed contains chocolate chip cookie crumbs as well as doritocrumbs. I don't eat crackers. If the tip of the inkhorn is inside her, it(the tip) cannot, repeat CANNOT, be rubbing against her clitoris. You knowfemale anatomy better than that! Or do you need that map back again?)
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