Archive-name: Slaves/karab.txt
Archive-author: Succubus
Archive-title: Karab


 Rhea looked up at her master as he held her.  He had
spent himself again, and she was giving him time to catch his
breath before really beginning her demonstration.  They were both
flushed and sticky from the warmth of their bodies, but he looked
reasonably content.
 She smiled up as she plotted her next move.  He would not
accept her in a dominant role, but had agreed to let her lead.
She was thinking desperately of what she had and had not done
with him, that was submissive enough for him to accept.  She came
up with three suitable positions and several acts to try.  Shak-
ing off the lassitude that had followed her satiation, she rolled
out of his arms and stood.
 Posing seductively beside the bed, she bounced a large
breast in the palm of her hand and leered.  "Come on, love, go
another round with Topaz Tigress," she wheedled, in the voice
that had made her a favorite in the Scarlet Lily.  The Dark Lord
looked at her, about half asleep.  Seeing what she was up to, he
smiled slightly and reached for her.
 "My turn, Master, if you wish," she whispered, easing
into his arms.  She kissed him long and deep before she released
him.
 "Did they really call you Topaz Tigress?" he asked.
 "Yes, Master.  Look at my eyes in the torchlight."
 He had looked at them often enough, but now, with the
influence of strong arousal, they looked different.  The brown
had lightened to a golden color, the shade of the fawn topaz
earrings she now wore which he had given her years ago.  "I see,"
he said, kissing her.  "Close your eyes, Topaz Tigress.  I have
something for you."  Rhea closed her eyes, enjoying a rapport she
had not experienced for months.
 The Dark Lord took her hand and guided it on a slow tour
of first her body and then his own.  He ended and let her encir-
cle his shaft with her fingers.  He was still flaccid and she
opened her eyes.
 "Close them.  This is yours, to enjoy for as long as I
see fit to permit it.  If I do not like anything, your privilege
is revoked and we will finish this night in the dungeon.  Under-
stood, slave girl?"
 "Yes, Master," she responded, knowing now what she was
risking.
 "Then begin," he commanded, releasing her.
 Rhea lay beside him for a moment, curled next to the
lean, strong body she adored.  Then, opening her eyes, she stood
and reached out to him.  "If you would stand, my master?" she
asked, readying her plans.
 The Dark Lord stood up next to her, and she reached for
his lips.  "I have many secrets, Master," she whispered.  "Per-
haps I should show you some of them.  This is called," she said,
standing on tiptoe to kiss his temples, "The Satin Spiral."  Her
tongue moved across his forehead to the other temple.  Nibbling
on his left earlobe, her hands began to caress his body in an
ever-downward spiral.  They moved slowly, at the same rate as her
mouth, stroking his shoulders as she planted light kisses on his
eyelids.
 As her tongue grazed his lips, he reached out with his
own, stopping her for a moment.  Her hands kneaded the flesh
beneath them like a cat's paws.  He took a firm grip on her,
fully intending to end her teasing, but she broke the kiss and
looked up at him, hurt.  Reluctantly, he let go, determined to
see what other things she had in store for him.
 She passed his chin and then moved over beside him.
Running her tongue along the line of nerves just beneath his ear,
she felt him clench his fists and grit his teeth.  A faint groan
escaped him.  She knew he liked it and repeated the motion.
 "Once more, slave girl, and you won't finish," he warned
her.  She moved on to nibble delicately at the back of his neck.
 Working her way down his spine, she came to the lowest
left rib.  Tracing along that with her tongue, her hands now
exploring the hard outline of his hips, she began to lave her way
up the left half of his rib cage.  She paused for a moment to
suck at his nipple.  As always, he clutched her hair.
 "You, Alia, and Elna are the only ones who do that
right," he said, enjoying the sensations.  She found her way up
to the collar-bones.  Going down the outside of his left arm, she
felt the many scars unfold under her lips.  It was ironic that
such a strong man scarred so easily, she thought as she noticed
one that she herself had left accidentally.  His hands, the
strong broad hands with their long bony fingers, also fell under
her ministrations.  She stroked all of the fingers, taking them
one by one into her mouth and swirling her tongue around them.
She kissed the hollow of his palm and began up the inside.
 Coming up to his shoulder, she traced across to the other
side and repeated her actions with his sword hand.  Then she
began down the right side of his ribs.  Reaching the lowest, she
again moved behind him.  Pausing for an instant to wet her lips
and tongue, she started down his spine again.
 Now came a moment of decision, should she start at the
front or the back, or should she work down one leg and up the
other?  Rhea pondered these as she tasted each knob of bone
scarcely covered by the scant flesh.  Reaching her decision and
his hips at the same time, she moved back to the front of his
body.  She was kneeling now and he looked tall, standing above
her with his eyes half-shut, enjoying her touch.
 She started down the right leg.  The flat muscles of his
thigh tensed as she stroked them.  He mumbled something incoher-
ent as she flicked her tongue across his hamstrings.  Her hands
braced her as she licked his ankles.  A kiss for each toe and a
flick under the arch of his foot, and she repeated the process on
the other leg.
 Reaching his knee, she moved to the inside of his thigh,
stroking, licking and touching her teeth to it.  She sensed a
tension in his body that had not been there, and moved to the
outside.  Coming up on his hip, she followed the ridge of bone to
the center of his body, and looked up.
 "Master," she said, "I know this is something you do not
ask for, with reasons I understand.  But, please permit me, just
this once.  I cannot hurt you, my master, my love, so please..."
 "I am gambling on you, slave.  Do it."
 Moving carefully, she kissed the plum-shaped head and ran
her tongue down the length of him.  Folding her lips over her
teeth, she encompassed him, swirling and flicking her tongue
around him, always careful.  She luxuriated in the feeling of
satiation that was accompanying this.  It had been too long since
she had done it in a leisurely fashion.  The few men who had
trusted her to do this had always taken charge, and had a tenden-
cy to gag her by thrusting too deeply into her mouth.
 The Dark Lord stood, wobbling a bit.  His favorite had
surprised him in a pleasant fashion yet again.  The softness of
her mouth, combined with the constant dance of her tongue, were
arousing him very quickly.  This was something he had been leery
of.  He had tried it once before, but she had been as inexperi-
enced as he and it was a dismal failure.  He cleared his mind of
the thought.  Now...now he was reaching one of the fastest cli-
maxes of his life.
 Sensing her master's readiness, Rhea moved away.  Seeing
the disappointment which was beginning to fade to anger, she
said, "There is still more, if you want it."
 He looked down at her, still surprised.  "More?"
 "Yes, Master.  Let me show you."  She paused briefly to
wet her lips and check for cuts.  Having folded them over her
teeth may not have been the wisest choice, but definitely the
safest.  "Move your legs apart, Master, if you would."  She moved
forward, between his feet and sat back on her heels.  "This will
be a bit more risky for you.  I cannot protect you as I did
before."  She stretched up and encompassed the dangling sac with
her mouth.  Careful not to close her teeth on it, she began
running her tongue over it.  The two almond-sized solids parted
and there was the distinct sensation of his skin rubbing against
itself from the inside.
 Oddly enough, to his mind, she began a toneless, tuneless
drone.  The vibrations spread up into his lower abdomen and
through his body.  Again, his body began to demand a release from
this torturous pleasure.  Releasing him, Rhea scooted her knees
further between his legs.
 She began stroking the long strip of skin, so well pro-
tected by his thighs.  Tingles began to run through him.  This
was completely new to him.  She licked as she would one of her
girls, seeming to probe for an opening.  The strokes became
longer as she worked her way further back.
 The Dark Lord was unsure Rhea would actually go through
with the logical conclusion; in fact, he had hoped she would not.
The idea repulsed him.  He felt the first, feather-light touches
of her tongue near the tightly clenched sphincter.
 He grasped her hair and pulled her away rudely.  "Where
did you learn that?  It wasn't here."
 "No, Master.  Diebe, the Satyr's Delight.  The Scarlet
Lily uses the same method, but ends in the front."
 "How have you stayed in practice for nine years, then?"
 "Karab," she said quietly.  Somehow, it was no surprise.
The decadent ruler of Pergamum had made a habit of requesting
Rhea, and now he thought he understood.
 "Go rinse your mouth.  You have displeased me."
 "Yes, Master," she said, walking over to the basin.
Pouring out a handful of water, she swished it in her mouth for a
few moments.  She spat into the basin.
 "Again," he commanded, as he opened the armoire.  Taking
out the whip that hung on the door, he looked at the slave.  She
had finished rinsing and now knelt before him, in the disgraced
position.  Her wrists and forehead were on the floor, and he
planted one bare foot on her wrists to hold her in place.  Strik-
ing her twice, moderately hard, he stepped off and returned the
whip to its peg.  The red welts appeared on her back and she
remained in the posture.
 "Do you know why you were just struck?" he asked.
 "I displeased you, Master.  That is reason enough," she
answered.  Her voice sounded strong.  She was not crying.
 "Yes, it is.  But you are not to repeat your error.  Do
you understand what it was?"
 "Yes, Master.  I should have stopped in the front.  I
deprived you of your release."
 "Reason enough.  Stand up."  She stood with her eyes
still on the floor.  "No, look at me."  Frightened of meeting his
eyes, knowing what she might see, she lifted her eyes slowly.
 The cold dark eyes that met hers were not angry, merely
not pleased.  He drew her in and searched her soul for the rea-
sons behind her acts.  The only thing he saw in the topaz eyes
was love.  He took hold of her and drew her to himself, releasing
her eyes as he did.  She rested against his chest, feeling the
beat of his heart.
 "You are no longer disgraced, slave girl.  Your privilege
has been revoked.  I will finish with you as I see fit.  However,
you still have secrets to show me.  I will find them out later."
He picked her up easily, although she knew she outweighed him by
thirty pounds.  Carrying her to the bed, he set her down.  "This
time, you will not deprive me of release."
   And she did not.

______
Apologies for the VERY weak ending.  My collaborator complained
too.  It will look better in context: Rhea has been in trouble
since she failed to seduce a priest of the High One.  She's been
in and out of the dungeon, both on her own errors and on her
elven protegee's.  This is the first chance she has had to prove
to her master that she does in fact love him and she should
remain his favorite.

The response has been encouraging on the stories.  More will be
forthcoming.  I have one with a minimum of sex but an excruciat-
ing flagellation as the centerpoint.  I am uncertain it is appro-
priate to post, since the beating is not for sexual purposes, but
as punishment for sex.  Help?  Anyone?

Slave of Matth

  formerly Angel the Succubus

 And she did not.

===============================================================

Path: ub!zaphod.mps.ohio-
state.edu!maverick.ksu.ksu.edu!umriscc!mcs213k.cs.umr.edu!asparrow
From: asparrow@cs.umr.edu (Angelia Sparrow)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Story (well, novel fragment)--Karab
Keywords: pain, pain and more pain.  MD-FS
Message-ID: <2751@umriscc.isc.umr.edu>
Date: 16 May 91 23:45:59 GMT
Sender: news@umriscc.isc.umr.edu
Organization: University of Missouri - Rolla
Originator: asparrow@mcs213k.cs.umr.edu


 Karab looked down at the slave girl kneeling before him.
She knelt straight with her knees wide apart and her head bowed.
He liked this one.  She was tall and strong and mastering her
made him feel as if he was bigger than she was.  In actuality,
Karab barely topped five and a half feet, in addition to being
heavy.  His silk robes were tailored to hide his weight, but
usually they only succeeded in making him look fatter.  The rings
he wore, mostly for magical protection, and the heavy perfumed
oil he used in his hair and thin beard made him seem effeminate
at first glance.  But, as Rhea and a very few others now living
could attest, his mind was steel hidden beneath the perfume and
silk.
 Right now, as she knelt before him, Rhea wondered what
the mind was plotting.  Karab was cruel for the sake of cruelty.
She usually managed to endure his attentions during the New Year
celebration, and her master's birthday celebration.  The ruler of
Pergamum visited only seldom, finding the delights of Dark Hold
shabby compared to those of his home city.
 "You evaded me last night, slave," Karab said.  Rhea
found his high pitched nasal voice annoying but managed to keep
from flinching.  She did not object to men whose voices fell
naturally in the higher range, Snow Wolf's had been almost as
high as hers, which was low for a woman's, but she found the
affectation grating.  "I'm afraid that means I will have to
punish you tonight, my dear.  Don't worry, I have your master's
full permission to do as I see fit.  Lie down by the three rings
in the floor."
 The guest room in the guard tower was not as opulent as
the suites, and had far more restraint devices, since it was
sometimes used as a spare cell when the dungeon was full.  The
rings were spaced about four feet apart and set into the stone
floor.  Rhea hastened to obey, hoping he would be merciful.
 Karab, after some rummaging in the wardrobe, and in a
chest he had brought, proceeded to chain her wrists to the ring
above her head.  He threaded a choke-leash about her throat,
above the collar and drew it tight.  Rhea coughed and tried to
catch her breath.  He gagged her with a wadded strip of cloth
held in by a second.  He took a pole, set with a manacle at each
end, and, threading it through the lowest ring, pulled her down
to lock her ankles in the irons.  Rhea blessed her father for
giving her an almost six foot height.  Wrapping another chain
around her body, he threaded it through the ring near her back,
holding her almost immobile.
 Placing the keys tantalizingly out her reach, he reached
back into the trunk and removed a glass jar, holding a large
toad.  Rhea's eyes grew large as he moved between her wide-spread
legs.
 "You don't like my pet?" Karab asked in mock-hurt tones.
His comically sad face twisted into a sadistic leer.  "Perhaps
the two of you should get acquainted, while I'm at the dinner."
He removed the squirming creature from its jar and forced it into
the helpless slave girl.  Rhea felt the acid burn a track up her
throat, but, unable to spew it out, she was forced to swallow
hard.  Wrapping another piece of cloth tightly around her legs
and hips, preventing the toad's escape, he left.  "I will return
in a few hours slave girl.  Be prepared to serve my pleasure."
 Rhea lay on the floor in torment.  The chains were too
tight, and she knew she would bruise.  The loathsome feeling of
the animal fighting in the cramped space made her ill.  The only
worse sensation was feeling it grow weaker and weaker until it
quit moving.  She knew it had suffocated.  The feeling of lying
chained on her back, with a dead toad inside of her was repulsive
and she put the thought from her mind.
 Distracting herself, she thought back a few weeks to the
first night her master had summoned her after her punishment.  It
had been glorious, and she remembered how much she had loved him.
He had trusted her enough to allow her to perform slightly dan-
gerous intimate actions upon his body, and now he had loaned her
to a jaded pervert from Pergamum.  She saw the wisdom of his
action, realizing that she was the only one who had the stomach
for this kind of treatment.  Even now, in her docile state,
Chandra would not have taken it.  None of the others could satis-
fy this man unscathed.  There was little Karab could do that she
had not already survived.  The Satyr's Delight in Diebe had
taught her endurance and the Chained Collar in Ellanya had given
her the high pain threshold.
 Lost in her musing on the past, Rhea was startled to see
Karab returning.  She had vaguely heard the night bell sound two
times since he left, but was surprised to see him back so soon.
 "No, my dear, dinner is not over," he tittered.  It was
an obscene sound coming from a man so large.  "I merely wished to
see how well acquainted you two were.  I excused myself from
listening to the singer."  He unwrapped the cloth from her hips
and placed a fat ringed hand inside of her.  Her body, not meant
for such abuse, complained and tears began down her cheeks.
 "There we are."  He pulled the amphibious corpse out of
her.  She visibly relaxed, but was overcome with the urge to
retch again.  "Wretched girl, you've killed him!" Karab shrieked.
"That will have to be punished.  But, I am feeling lenient.  I
will give you some pleasure before the pain begins."  He rummaged
in his trunk and came up with an oddly shaped iron rod.
        When he brought it closer, she could see that it was
indeed iron, formed into the shape of a phallus, but one that was
cleft in the middle as a snake's tongue.  Each side was formed
complete, with its own head.  She looked puzzled and frightened.
 "I thought by now you would be accustomed to this shape.
You frequent the bed of a demon, is that not true?"  Without
waiting for an answer, he continued.  "Is not your master formed
like this, even to the iron?"  He ignored the frantic shaking of
her head.  "Every noble in the Empire knows our good Emperor is
from the lower planes, either a minion, or perhaps the Destroyer
himself, taken mortal guise.  It is said the Lord Vendan walked
Ellassa in human form once long ago.  The stars have lately
indicated a massive supernatural upheaval and the balance sways
into darkness.  He has returned, has He not?  And you, lucky
slave, are His favorite."  Rhea shook her head frantically,
wishing he would remove the gag.  The iron did not look painful,
but she would not hear her master slandered.
 Continuing to ignore her, Karab finished his lecture on
demonology and proceeded to thrust the iron rod into her.  It was
cold and painful, but she had endured larger, since it was proba-
bly modeled on Karab's own, which was small-average, and worse.
She could tolerate this.
 "That will be there when I return, or you will suffer the
consequences," he told her, turning to return to his dinner.
 Rhea was right, the iron was not as bad as the toad had
been.  She lay quietly and thought about what Karab had said.
She was surprised to learn that her master was considered a
demon, in the literal sense, by some of his nobility.  This could
be good or bad.  She wondered if he realized this, and then
considered that he probably did.  As she reflected on what she
knew of him, she came to understand how some of them could be-
lieve such a thing.  Karab had told her that the stars were
showing massive upheaval.  Perhaps that was why she could feel a
change in her Power.  It had never been great enough to train,
but there was a warning tingle, like that of the coal embedded in
the flesh of her shoulder, that told her of something coming.
 After the fourth tolling of the night bell, Karab re-
turned, looking satisfied and full.  He knelt beside her and
removed the gag.  Swallowing hard, she managed not to vomit from
the remainder of the nausea.
 "You are a lovely thing.  If His Majesty ever favors me
enough to give you to me, instead of merely loaning, I could find
so many more interesting diversions.  You would die of course, my
dear, but only after I am through with you.  Who knows, you may
last an entire month."
 Rhea closed her eyes and gave the ritual response, "If
that would please you, Master," she managed through dry tongue
and lips.  The cloth had left a foul taste in her mouth.
 Karab began unlocking her chains.  He removed the iron
rod.  She pulled herself to a kneeling position, ignoring the
fact that there was blood on her thighs from his rings, and he
had left the choke-leash on.  He began to divest himself of the
food and wine-stained silk robes.  Stripping off all but two of
his rings, he stood before her, after wrapping himself in a
violet silk bathrobe.
 Taking hold of the choke-leash, he pulled her head up to
face him.  "You know what I want now.  And, my dear, you know
what will happen if I feel the slightest scrape from your teeth."
He tugged just hard enough that she coughed.
 "Yes, Master."  For good measure, she added, "Your whim
is my law."  Another ritual phrase, this time one she had learned
at the Scarlet Lily.  She remained kneeling and opened the front
of the robe with gentle hands.
 Engulfing him with her mouth, she felt the first stirring
of blood in the organ.  Gently she stroked it to fullness and
then ran her tongue in light flicks across the tight skin on the
underside of the head.  An impatient tug on the leash told her to
get on with the procedure.  A few prefunctionary licks at the
hanging sac and she moved on between his legs.  Long strokes
brought her to the back sphincter.  Biting back her repulsion,
she began to probe with her tongue, trying to ignore the clots
that hung in the dark hairs nearby.  The foul taste filled her
mouth, yet she persisted, hoping at least to put him in a pleas-
ant enough mood to spare her any more punishment.
 Above her, she felt his bulk tremble and heard a sigh.
Apparently, he was pleased or else she would soon end with a
mouth full of his dirt.  He had done that once, released his
bowels into her mouth.  She had vomited hard and repeatedly,
until she dry-heaved into the stone well in the corner.  He had
lost all interest in her and returned her to the harem unused
that time.  He had also complained to her master about her inep-
titude.  She had been sent to the dungeon, pending his departure,
and placed in a common cell.  Quarg had taught her not to dis-
please Karab.  After he had left, her master had questioned her
about the incident.  Knowing not to lie, she told the truth and
had been surprised when he had paled a bit.  She was quickly
forgiven and returned to the harem.
 Another tug on her leash told her it was enough.  The
damp patch on her lower back told her she had successfully satis-
fied him.  There would be more abuse, no doubt, but she bore up
under the thought that this was her bad duty, and the rest of the
celebrations should be pleasant enough.
 "You are talented, my dear.  So much better than the lad
I have to do that at home.  He and my favorite girl take turns at
it, seeing who can last the longest without gagging.  One mouth
is like another, wouldn't you say?"
 "Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master," she answered rather
thickly.
 "Here, wipe your face, my dear," he said handing her a
scrap of a rag.  She took it to the basin, and surreptitiously
rinsed her mouth a time or two as she cleansed her face.  Her
face clean, although there was still a bad taste in her mouth,
she walked back and knelt in front of Karab.
 "Now what shall I do with you?" Karab asked, more to
himself than Rhea.  He wandered over to the trunk and rummaged
again.  He returned with a length of chain, a small crock, and a
single bladed whip.  He kicked the rug aside, uncovering the
lower ring, and removed the hanging globe of witch-light from the
hook in the ceiling.
 Rhea came when she was beckoned and stretched for the
ceiling.  Karab, standing on a chair, wrapped her wrists in the
chains and hung her from the ceiling.  As she watched, he rubbed
the whip with some oil from the crock.
 "Every time you whimper, yelp or scream, my dear, I will
ram this whip up your hot little gash.  That should only make it
hotter.  You see, up north, they have this lovely plant called
the pepper.  I have it cultivated in a hothouse back home, and
the oil it makes is quite the rage at the houses that cater to a
more refined clientele.  The fruit is quite spicy to eat, and the
oil burns any of the more delicate membranes it contacts.  This
is your punishment for avoiding me last night, my dear."
 Neither keeping verbal count himself, nor making her
count the blows, Karab began to beat the girl.  The whip was
slender, and on more than one occasion broke the skin.  He had
not lied about the oil.  Where her back was cut, it burned like
fire, and she had not been able to contain her cry.  The handle
of the whip entered her, again as promised, the oil making it
burn horribly.  She sobbed again, and the handle thrust into her
again, hard and deep.
 Regaining her control, Rhea begged, "Please, Master.
Forgive a slave girl's foolishness.  The first night you are in
court I am yours, save if my master claims me.  Please."
 "You have learned one lesson, slave girl, now about my
little froggy friend..."  He struck her again.  Fortunately,
Karab was given to decadence and had little use for strenuous
exercise.  The cuts were not deep and should heal quickly, but
the pepper burned beyond endurance.  Rhea heard the night bell
toll again.  Karab was breathing heavily from the unaccustomed
exertion.
 "I think that should be enough, my dear.  Remember, the
first night is mine.  I must rest a moment, and think."
 Placing the handle of the whip inside her, after a fresh
coat of oil, He tied her thighs together with the blade.  Tears
were rolling freely and she gasped for breath in short cries.
 After resting a moment, he picked up the large beeswax
candle and brought it over to her.  It was lit and a puddle of
molten wax had formed in a well.  He held it in front of her and
began to pour the hot wax down onto the well-shaped breasts,
concentrating especially on the sensitive nipples.
 Already crying, there was little other form of expression
Rhea could use.  She hung her head and turned her face away.
 Having created a thick layer of wax on her body, most of
it in interesting patterns if he did say so himself, Karab set
the candle back down.  "I think you have learned your lesson, my
dear."  He unhooked her chained wrists from the hook and let her
down.  She remained standing straight, since he had not given her
permission to move.  "On your belly at my feet," he finally
commanded.
 Moving awkwardly with the whip still tied inside of her,
Rhea dropped first to her knees and then to her belly.  The
carpet pressed the still-warm wax harder onto her skin.  She felt
the large K he had drawn across her chest, the wax tightening as
it began to harden.  He untied the whip and drew it out of her.
A faint hope rose.  Perhaps this time he would be merciful and
use her normally.
 The hope was crushed by the weight of him settling on her
open back.  She knew the process.  First would be some probing at
the front opening and then the ripping sensation at the back.
Knowing it would hurt less if she relaxed, she tried to think of
more pleasant things, like the butterflies in the garden, how
pretty Gold-lily had looked in the green silks this morning, and
other pleasant thoughts.  It helped some.
 Then came the rending thrust at the back, with no fore-
warning.  Rhea stifled a scream into the rug.  Clenching her
teeth on a corner of it, she tried to inflict her pain on some-
thing other than her body.  She was torn open and it hurt and
burned at the same time.
 The pain lessened only slowly; his thrusts came in deep
harsh bursts.  Finally it was enough for him, and there was a
crushing sensation of his weight upon her, with the vile smell of
his oiled hair mingling noxiously with the heavy spice perfume he
had requested on her.
 Withdrawing, he stood up, and went to the basin.  Fastid-
iously cleaning himself, although she had left no residue, he
wrapped the robe back around him and stood in front of her.
 "I have had enough of you, my dear.  You may return to
the harem, and reflect upon what you have learned.  You proved
most satisfactory, as usual."
 "Thank you, Master," she said softly as she stood.  He
closed the door after watching her until she was out of sight.
The marks on her back enhanced her greatly, and the thin pale red
stream that was slowly creeping down the back of her thigh was
most arousing.
 He returned to the room, hung the witchlight globe back
on its hook, and began plotting what to do to the girl tomorrow,
if there was one.  If not, young Filgar would serve nicely when
he got home.

______
Here it is, a portion of the novel I am working on with my friend
who prefer to remain anonymous, going only by Dark One.  If there
is interest, I may post actual chapters.  As always, comments are
welcome at asparrow@cs.umr.edu.  I am STILL not getting any!
(alt.sex.bondage or any other newsgroup)  As for sex, I'm getting
plenty, but that's none of y'all's beeswax.

BTW:  with bikini season coming up, I thought I'd ask, does
anyone else break out in a hideous rash when they shave their
pubic hair?  How do you avoid it?  I just waxed my fuzzies en-
tirely off, and am covered with bruises.  Epilady is OUT! of the
question (sorry, but I am emphatic on that.)  and it is unsightly
to have fur hanging an inch below your bikini bottom (mine's
urban camo and boy does it clash with my red hair.)
Thanks.

ObBondage:  Masters (mistresses) does having you slave entirely
naked (I mean hair wise) turn you on?  Why?

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