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Slave Warrior Chapter 2

May 13, 2018 / posted in Chapter Book, Stories / No Comments

Back to Chapter 1

 

Heraldry of a bird on a stone wall

A striking heraldic bird looking down on Laun

There were strange noises in the night to wake her randomly.  The darkness in the leaf and stick filled bed made her stop breathing and listen to the night creatures as they passed by.  She even heard the sounds of many, many hoofbeats in the distance late into the night, but they did not pass directly by the shelter she was in.  The starred night showed through the very tops of the sapling sized branches around her and she fell back asleep watching the blinking lights.

She had snatches of dreams.  Some were comforting.  Some were terrifying.  Some...she was not sure how the two were mixing.  She was active in the dreams, but she could not change what was going on around her.

She was dancing for Lady Hellon with other nobles around her Lady on the hill outside the keep that her Lady liked to entertain on in the Summer.  The other dancers were around her, swirling in the colors the Dance Master had put them in.  Laun was twirling, seeing the smiles on the faces of the nobles as she turned and then she turned and there was as if another set of people were sitting where the nobles were.  They were not replaced, but the shadows of the nobles took form and substance and were moving counter to the light figures.  She saw the dancers, too, had shadow selves that were moving and touching and interacting even as their bodies were moving to entertain the nobles. »Read More

Slave Warrior Chapter 1

May 13, 2018 / posted in Chapter Book, Stories / No Comments

The first warnings of the raiders came too late.

The Castle of Lord Salam-Dir would fall to the merciless bandits before the night was over.  There was little that could have been done as plans made long ago were not to be stopped.  There was a Festival and Tourney being held by a Lord several day’s journey from the Salam-Dir castle.  Less than forty people were left to defend the keep because of it.  Most of the people left in the mains were too old or frail to travel to the Festival and so did not defend the huge castle and keep for long.  The only warrior there was the Lord Salam-Dir himself who had stayed to see to his recently deceased wife’s mourning vigil.

Moonless night was covering the approach of the raiders.  It was only as the wave of men battered against the first gate that anyone knew anything was wrong.  Peace had been across the land for over a generation.  There was just the old man, who had been the gatekeeper since before the last conflict in the land, at the outer courtyard gatehouse.  He was the first to die.

The raiders attacked as the Lord Salam-Dir was preparing to vigil the night over his wife’s body.  The still form of his wife was draped with a simple pale linen shroud on the altar. The jewels he had given her over the years glinted through the thin fabric in the candle light, bright against her grayed skin.  The Chamber of Death was in the lower part of the main tower below the noble family’s apartments.  It was mid summer and even the inner stone of the castle radiated the heat of the cloudless skies, but to Vami Salam-Dir, the cold of winter and death had settled into him even before he heard the scratch on the door. »Read More

Country Club

September 8, 2015 / posted in Stories / No Comments

“This is the life, isn’t it?”

That is what the old man in the steam room said.  I nodded, and tried to not inch away from him.  It wasn’t that he was old- There was something in his yellowed smile and the metallic smell of his breath that came to me even over the eucalyptus scent of the cleanser they used in the place.

It had been a scam to get into the country club.  I had come in as a supposed guest of one of the members, who conveniently had arrived an hour before and nodded at me as I stood at the reception counter.  The wink I gave the cute blonde girl probably helped, too.  I had used the facilities, used the credit card I had ‘found’ to pay for my day’s entertainment and now, as the dinner I had charged settled, I was relaxing in the mens’ side of the locker room.

It was great that there was a hot tub and sauna in there.  No women, meant no need for the swim trunks I didn’t have.  The fluffy towel I had grabbed was enough to keep my ass from sticking to the hot tiles, and keep the slightly roving eye of the old man off of my junk.  I sat there for a while until I just couldn’t stand the creepy glances.  I smiled and nodded to him and went to the showers to clean up.  I had been there longer than I had intended, and I knew that the scam was not going to last much longer.

»Read More

A session glance

August 30, 2012 / posted in Stories / No Comments

There is a noise.  You are on your knees and were told not to turn, not to move.  But the noise is loud and sudden and you have to see what it was.

*Smack*

The crop hits your shoulder, coming uncomfortably close to your ear as it swings past.  Your eyes snap back to the front and look at the place you were told to look.  There are more noises, but you try to ignore them as you look at the wood floor, a small divot showing something hard had hit there.  Recently.

There is a tug on your hair and then a cloth is pulled down over your eyes.  You can still hear.  The noises are slightly muffled, but that just makes them more alarming.  Fingers are running across your bare skin and you tense right before you think a finger is going to tweak your nipple.

*Smack*

“No flinching.”

The voice is calm, almost businesslike as you are reminded of the rules.  Do not flinch.  Only look where you are told.  Do not speak or call out or even moan without permission.

The last one is hard as you feel a hand on your throat, tightening as a whisper of a kiss is brushed past your lips.  You follow the pressure of the hand and stand, waiting as the blindfold is doing it’s job and not letting you see what is happening.

The hand is gone from your throat and you think you can hear a step to the side, but you cannot even turn your head to track the noise without knowing you will be punished.

There is a clink of chain and you feel something trailing over your shoulder.  A leash is being clipped to your collar and you follow the pull.  There is a small laugh as you knock into a chair, a push on your arm shoving you out of the way of something else, you hope.

You are led around the room, step by step.  You can’t be as hesitant as you may want because of the constant pull on your lead.

It stops and you take one step too many.

*Smack*

You stand and then you are pushed slightly down on the shoulder, the signal to kneel again.  You are on a pillow.  Surprising as you hadn’t seen any in the room when you entered.  You hear a chair move and it is right in front of you.

“Now...  Let’s see if you have learned anything since last time.”

Your blindfold is off and you blink to try to get used to the bright light in the room.  She is sitting there, and she must have been pleased with the session so far.  She has a smile and is sitting so that you can see the lace barely covering her between her thighs.

She nods.

Digital Chastity

July 3, 2012 / posted in Stories / No Comments

He waited for the text.  It was getting too close to the bedtime She had set for him, but he had to get online to send a work email.  She had set the computer to shut off exactly at his bedtime and he needed to send the email that night.

He knew that he could have gone around the password she had set, but she had ways of knowing what he did, even beyond the key logger he had found and had disabled one time.  She had called him directly within the hour, telling him his punishment for not only disabling the key logger, but having been to the websites he had visited.  This was why she was his Mistress.  She was on the ball and more savvy than any of the others he had contacted over the years.

He looked back to the smart phone as if the glance would make the text come through.  She had never taken this long to reply before.  10 minutes to bed time.

He needed the password to be able to access his Internet account.

He took the time to rework the email.  Putting in a part of the project he had forgotten to mention before.  He looked at the clock and grimaced.  Less than 2 minutes.

The phone vibrated and he had it in hand before the actual ring for the text sounded.

One line, the password plus "It's their, not they're."

He was able to send the corrected email before the computer turned it's self off.  He sat there, staring at the screen for a few minutes, letting the shock of the text wear off before he started on his bed time routine.

He could not sleep.  It was even more direct than when she called him.  She knew what he had written.  And had corrected him.  He looked at the glowing numbers and tried to close his eyes.

The chime that announced that the computer was turning on for the day.  It was the best alarm clock for him.  Knowing he can get online within a few minutes of that sound did something to him to bring most of him awake at once.

He waited that morning.  He cleaned himself.  He dressed.  He fed himself.  He was close to needing to get to the bus to get to work when he approached his computer.  The email had been received, looked over and the reply was waiting for him.  He was happy as he went out to the bus stop.

There was a vibration and the phone was in his hand as the text came through.  "Congratulations.  An hour extra tonight."

He almost went home to masturbate because of the reaction the simple text brought out of him.  He didn't, knowing She would know somehow, and would not want to push it.

Punishment at the Boarding School

April 17, 2012 / posted in Stories / No Comments

The boarding school was full of noise that morning.  The three boys that had been called out to the courtyard were confused and nervous, not knowing what Matron Hellen wanted them for.  They had not done anything, recently, and quietly talked amongst themselves before the stern form of the Head Governess slowly walked from the covered walkway that formed one wall of the courtyard.

She had a small folder with her.  It was plain, unadorned and yet, the boys knew whatever had brought them out of class was in that folder.

She only had to snap her fingers and the boys lined up, their mouths closed and looking at the greying woman.  She was in an old-fashioned dress, the long skirt brushing the tops of her shoes as she paced in front of the boys. »Read More

The Massage

April 12, 2012 / posted in Stories / No Comments

From time to time, I get interesting emails. Here is just one...

THE MASSAGE

Dear Miss R,

I have a problem and I would like your help. There is a situation that happened that I am not too sure what to do about. I am a White BBW with long red hair(all natural), not as gorgeous as you, but I believe I can hold my own. I am a Dom by nature which I only realized a few years ago, but have been having great fun with it. The problem is that I had an encounter that has shaken my self image.

I guess the only way to get your help is to tell you what happened.

I was asleep on the table when it happened, or at least that was what I thought at first. No, it really started lots earlier than that. »Read More

Snapshot Scene : Brushing her hair

March 15, 2012 / posted in Stories / No Comments

She said she needed to put up her hair.  He watched as the just below shoulder length hair was draped over her shoulder her hand stroking it before the brush went through it.  It was not as long as some hair he had seen, but it was luxurious in the sheen and thickness.  She leaned forward slightly as the hair had the brush pulled through, her bare shoulders seeming to have a fur stole around them between strokes.

He watched as she wrapped the hair around her hand, twisting it, coiling it until it was a tight bun at the back of her head.  Two little sticks were pushed through, keeping he hair in place.

She seemed sterner now that her hair was up.  The softness that the hair around her face and hiding her shoulders had given her was gone, the tight corset now all business.

Kiss her hand

March 15, 2012 / posted in Stories / No Comments

Have you ever read or seen a movie about Cyrano de Bergerac?  He was an actor and noted soldier from the Renaissance.  He is best known for his large nose which he thought kept women away from him, though he was quite romantic.  He coached a man to capture the attentions of the woman de Bergerac loved.  Romantic, and tragic.

I was in a similar situation.

There was this woman who I adored and saw almost every day.  She worked in a store across from the one I worked at in the mall.  She would wear the short skirts and tight shirts that her clothing store sold, making my studious suits seem frumpy when she glanced my way.  I watched her for over six months before I approached her in the food court.  That was awkward and she giggled, but she smiled at me when she would pass my store.  It brightened my day every time.

One of my co-workers saw Clara(no, she wasn’t called Roxane) and he fell in lust.  He could not see the wonder that she had within her.  He could not imagine the humor I had seen.  He saw the short skirts and tight shirts and wanted to bang her.

Tim whined at me until I straight out told him to just go and talk to her.  The asshole did.  Tim is tall and handsome and has a chest bigger than me. »Read More

Femdom Marking

January 16, 2012 / posted in Stories / No Comments

“That tickles!”

She stepped back and smiled, but her voice had an edge to it.  “Shut up.  Hold still.”

He was spread-eagled on the cross, the manacles barely holding him to the wood as she worked on him.  He tried not to wiggle, but the light touch was driving him insane.

“Mistress!”

A loud smack sounded through the room as she left a hand print on his bare ass.  “I told you to shut up!”  Even though she was trying to sound stern, humor slipped in and a slight giggle came out. »Read More

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