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| His Slave Screams | Back to O | Back to main page |
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| His Slave Screams | Back to O | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
"His Slave Screams"
by Subjukate
Part 1
Screams. The most lovely screams ever heard emanated from the loving
demonstration on the auditorium floor. Interested yet disembodied faces
peered down behind the wall of darkness at the young man who labored his
flogger over the backside of his dripping wife. It was obvious that she was
grateful as she hung there. The spectacle had gone on for over thirty
minutes, and she hovered on the brink of orgasm, but still she did not
come. The watching eyes waited in hopeful expectation that soon she would
come, but she did not. The flogging continued.
Way up at the top of the circular auditorium, back behind everyone else,
sat a singular young lady with her legs crossed. The room was filled with
couples, yet she sat alone and silent. She knew what the young wife needed
that this husband did not. He could not push her the way she needed, and if
she did not come soon, the masters would stop him, to protect her. The
young man was a shaky novice dominant whose wife had begged for the
flogging. He felt insecure at the prospect and so he had arranged for this
private session with their group. He felt that she would be safer if he
received guidance this first time. The elders were deeply moved and granted
him this one session. The young woman up in the back wept sweet tears. How
romantic that he would care for his submissive so much that he would not
risk harming her, how beautiful, how blissfully perfect. She felt the
strange heat she usually reserved for lonely moments in the back of her
closet, bound amidst the smell of leather. She felt certain that given the
proper circumstances, everyone in the lecture hall could easily fall onto
one another in the heated frenzy this demonstration inspired. Perhaps
later, in someone's well appointed home, they would.
She was lost in thought when Lord John stepped up to the tired young
husband and took the flogger from him. John spoke words of encouragement to
the wife and sent the husband forward so that she could see his face.
Thirty-five minute--that is the limit; no more than that. The time stood at
thirty-three. She would have to come soon if she would come at all, in her
first flogging. They all wanted her to come. They all knew the cutting pain
of the first flogging. The bodies of the audience were poised on the edges
of their seats, and each hoped that Lord John could work his magic once
more.
"Maggie," John said, "You are doing very well. Do you feel the heat?
The one in your loins?"
Her voice came back ragged and hard, "I do."
"You are too tense; your body is too tight. You cannot come if you will not
submit. Relinquish control to the whip."
He gave her a light flick on her reddened backside. She acted as if she did
not feel it. He did it again, only the mark was longer this time. She
moaned. Her husband encouraged her; he touched her breasts and teased her
nipples.
"Let go, Maggie. Give me what I want."
He laid into her harder this time. Her breath became more labored and her
body arced against the bonds. Her moaning became louder. He struck her one
last time. A mark to the lower quadrant of her magnificent ass, and she
came. She did not scream like she did before. It was a high pitched
reaching that brought her husband to tears.
The audience erupted in thunderous shouts. Master John returned the flogger
to Maggie's husband and stepped down into obscurity once more.
The young lady up high in the darkened part of the audience returned to her
reading by book light, and did not notice as everyone left for the play
party afterwards. She did not notice as Master John sat down in the row
behind her. His cologne was her first clue that she did not sit alone.
She looked up at him and smiled. "Good evening," she said. She had the most
adorable smile. Her hair framed her face in a classic blunt cut that
flattered her thin brown hair. Everything about her screamed femininity,
though at the same time, she seemed androgynous.
She wore almost no makeup, and in the thin light John could see the steel
submissive's ring in her ear. The lapis bead held captive indicated that
she had had formal training in her slavery, probably from the Academy in
France. He looked a little harder at her. Her lovely face was a study in
serenity, the trademark of the properly trained slave. Someone else would
not help but wonder why she would be alone. A slave such as this should be
kept in irons hidden away from the unappreciative eyes of common men.
"Please allow me to introduce myself. I am John Dermont. I am in charge of
locking up the building tonight. I have seen you in the back of these
meetings occasionally. We usually restrict our membership to couples only."
"So why do they let you stay?" she asked. She had a point. Clearly, he
hadn't a slave.
"I started this group," he replied. "I can do what I want," he added
simply. "May I ask your name?"
"You don't remember?"
"No, I cannot say that I do."
"I am Laura Suttersfield. I am in your Victorian Sexuality class at the
University."
He studied her face still harder. Yes. Laura Suttersfield. Fifth row,
eighth seat, B minus in the class. "Please forgive me. The lighting is dim.
However, even in this dim light, I can see that you have your legs crossed.
Surely it would displease your masters, Laura, to know that you dishonor
them. You disgrace your education and training as a slave by being
disrespectful to your masters. If one of your trainers were to see you like
that they would surely beat you to within an inch of your life. Doesn't
that frighten you?" The words fell from his lips without malice.
"No," she said carelessly. "A master from my school has never so much as
walked on this continent. They will not know, sir."
"Surely your master will punish you..."
"No, he will not."
"Why? How can you be so sure? Your markings speak of several years of
formal training. Don't tell me you have forgotten to fear your elders."
"I fear them. Yes. I do. But I don't have a master."
"Why not?"
"I have escaped him."
-- * * * --
The next day in class, she pretended that she had not seen him the night
before. She did not speak to him, as usual. She did not look into his eyes
like she did the night before, and when she sat up above him in the raised
seats, she opened her legs as good slaves do.
Usually Laura wore really long dresses with full skirts and petticoats.
Today she sat with the skirt drawn up. When he first realized what she was
doing he considered making her leave, but it pleased him so. His baggy
pants hid his raging pole, and he prayed the prayers of weak men in
light-colored pants.
He made the entire lecture to her shaved cunt. He could see every curve and
color. There was a strange magical gleaming between her thighs, like stars.
He could practically smell the scent from where he stood a mere twelve feet
away. His mouth watered for the taste of it. He could humiliate her by
announcing to the class her transgression. He marveled at her courage and
pondered the lengths he would make her go to in order to please him. He
would make her beg to be bound. In the back of his mind he began planning a
session in which he would bind her legs open and stare at her cunt,
unencumbered by privacy considerations. Perhaps he would let his tongue
taste it. Perhaps he would make her suck his cock. Perhaps he would examine
the stars between her legs.
Once the class was dismissed, he hobbled to his office and locked the door
behind him. In the privacy of his secluded one room, amidst the old Italian
antiques, he bared his raging hard-on and sat down to his desk. The leather
seat felt cold and smooth against his bare backside, and he reveled in its
familiarity as he gazed at the manhood between his thumb and forefinger of
his left hand. Pre-come had begun to dribble from the slit in the top of
his fat prick. The mere caress of his hand soothed him and he laid his head
back against the headrest of his black leather chair. The movement of his
hand quickened as did his breath.
Suddenly there was a piercing ring that surprised and frightened him.
He made a small yelp that distracted him from his self-ministrations. His
eyes flew open expecting to see someone standing at the door.
It was the phone. The phone was ringing. It had never seemed so loud
before. He made a mental note to himself to find a way to creatively use a
sudden startle in a session. It rang. It rang again. It rang several times.
He could not concentrate, so loud was its ringing, so he picked up the
receiver.
"This is John," he said brusquely.
"How does it feel?" asked Laura's sexiest voice.
"Laura. Just the girl I was hoping to hear from. I have a handful of things
that I'd love to share with you."
"So, I guessed. Did you like what you saw?"
"Why, yes. It has inspired me to great lengths."
"How great?"
"It hurts."
"I could help you relieve that pain. I would think that serving you would
be a wondrous thing. It would be frightening, though. I have trouble these
days, serving in person. I break down and cry. It has put a tremendous
damper on my servitude. Let me serve you this way, please. I promise that I
will not do it again without your permission. I don't normally go about
raising my dress. I have always had trouble fucking strangers."
"Someday, I will tell you why you cannot fuck strangers."
"Could you tell me now?" she asked timidly.
"No, not yet. I have something else I want to show you first. Where are you
now?"
"I am in the back of my closet. I have blindfolded myself and bound my feet."
"Have you disrobed?"
"I have."
"You are a good girl, and I am very pleased with you. Don't be afraid of me
now. If you do as I say, I will tell you why you don't enjoy sex with
strangers. Do you want me to help you?"
"Yes, sir, I do. I was afraid to ask you to help me. I do not wish to be a
burden to you."
"Laura, silence. I want you to focus on the things I tell you to do.
You will need to resort to simple `yes, sirs' and `no, sirs' until I tell
you not to. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you comfortable? Can you wiggle your toes? Are your feet going cold?"
"I feel fine."
"You are nervous, as you should be. Lay down for me, please. Present your
sex to me as you have been taught."
She lay down on the closet floor , placing her hand beneath her ass,
raising it a bit. With her legs spread wide she could begin to smell the
faint beginnings of the impending torrential flood that would soon pour
from her cunt.
"How does that feel?"
"I am comfortable, sir."
"Good. Now tell me about your first experience with your favorite trainer
at the Academy. Do you remember the name?"
"His name was Sir Gus."
"Sounds like a good man. What did he teach you that first time?"
"He taught me about withholding."
"Go on," he encouraged gently.
"It was in my first month. It was one of my first training sessions and I
was painfully shy about my sexuality. I endured many beatings because of my
reluctance. One of the elders decided that my reticence was caused by my
own awkwardness with myself. Gus was sent to familiarize me with the
pleasures of my own anatomy." She paused, took a long breath and asked,
"May I touch myself?"
"You may, but do not come. If you come, I will give you a formidable
punishment. Continue with your story."
"Thank you, sir." She gathered her thoughts. "I met him in an examination
room. He made me lie down on a wooden table with my ass on the edge. He
would name the parts of my sex and touch them, and make me repeat them.
Eventually, he would touch something and I would have to tell him its Latin
and slang terms. Of course, I became highly aroused, especially while he
explored the G-spot. He manipulated my sex until I was about to come and
then left me for three of the longest minutes of my life. Then he
instructed me to make myself come."
"And how did you do that? Vibrator? Manipulation, penetration?"
"I massage my clitoris, protecting it with the hood."
"Ah, clever girl! Are you doing that now?"
"I am."
"Good."
"Sir, my fingers are wet. May I taste them?" she asked.
John began to stroke his cock, slowly at first. "Yes, my dear, you may.
However, you must dip your fingers deep inside you. Tell me what it tastes
like."
"I am sweet today, sir. I taste like sugar and salt." She made sucking
noises that caused his dick to get harder than before. He shifted his
weight in the chair and moved back a bit from beneath the desk.
"Laura, my good little slave, tell me how you wish to serve me. I ache to
know."
She swallowed hard and said, "I have these fantasies, sir."
"Tell me." His left hand was moving faster now.
"I want to be allowed to suck your cock until you cream in my mouth, sir. I
want to know how you taste."
"It is good for us to want things, Laura. I want to hear you come. Do you
think you could do that for me now? Tell me the steps you will take."
"I can? I can come? You are going to let me come?"
"Yes. Does that surprise you?
"Uh-huh..." Her voice trailed off as she began to quicken the movements
around her clitoris. Her legs began to hump up and she used her legs to
lift herself off the floor as if to attempt to give him relief in absentia.
She began to moan softly and there were audible squishing noises as the
muscles in her cunt gripped his imaginary cock. Her breath came in ragged
rasps and her moans became a little louder.
"`Yes, sir,'" he reminded her. "You are such a good slave for obeying me. I
know that you will do the things I tell you. Right now, Laura, I need you
to massage your breasts with your free hand. Are your nipples hard?"
Her reply was an unintelligible gasp. He continued, "Yes, I thought so.
Your nipples want to be sucked. Your cunt wants to be sucked. You need to
be fucked. You need to come when I tell you, and not before. I am not
ready, so pace yourself."
"Master, I am so close. My canal is dripping and... I... Oh, please fuck
me. Give me every inch of your fucking cock. I need to feel it inside of
me. I want you to drive it into me. Master, please..."
His hand flew against the hard red skin of his fuck pole and he thought
about what it would be like to drive his dick deep into her pungent slit.
He wanted to fuck her really hard, so that her whole body moved when he
drove into her. Now his breathing became gasps and a thin sweat covered him
as he felt his come begin to boil. He was raising his ass off the chair.
Raising his dick up into her, straining to feel the hot bliss on the other
end of the line.
Abruptly he noticed that she was crying, begging to be allowed to come.
"Not yet, you are not ready. A little more. A little more," he directed her.
"Master, please, help me; I can't stop myself."
"Laura, try to relax. Breathe. You may not come. Hold yourself there a
little longer."
She sat at that heightened state, and he held on with her. She was wailing
and crying, until finally he said...
"Go ahead. Let me hear you come for me. Laura. Let go. Come."
No sooner had he said the first two words than he heard a loud release. Her
voice echoed the crashing waves that rolled through her. It was more than
he had hoped for. As the hot jizz boiled up through his raging member, he
raised his ass up and flexed his asshole, hard. Come fountained out of his
dick in great long spurts showering the seat with his semen. He muffled his
verbal response in a long deep breath as he came and came and came,
thinking about her fuck channel, about its tightness and heat. When the
boiling sperm had finally ceased its rocketing, he spoke again.
"Are you okay? You are awfully quiet."
"I am. I had not come in a long time. I am shattered."
"Good. I am pleased with the way you held off. I am certain your trainer
would be proud. I would like you to rest now, and think about this
experience. I want you to write down your feelings, and get the paper to my
office by tomorrow morning."
"I understand. Thank you, sir. I am not worthy of you, sir."
He laughed and said, "Oh, yes. Yes, you are. Laura, the reason you feel
uncomfortable fucking those you do not know is because they are beneath
you. You are a queen who chooses to serve. You choose who you'll serve."
There was a long silence and then he asked, "Will you serve me again?"
"Yes, I'd like to."
"Good. The society has a presentation on Thursday in the auditorium.
I hope you'll be there."
Her eyes flew open in surprise. Words stuck in her throat. Disbelief and fear.
John studied her reaction carefully, and smiled warmly at her, while
uttering the phrase that masters use to declare the use of a slave from the
school. Then he said, "I'll postpone punishment for crossing your legs. You
will learn to adore me as my housekeeper while living with me in my home. I
will complete your apprenticeship, unless, of course, you don't want to be
my housekeeper. Your freedom is always yours if you choose to take it,
naturally."
She was quiet for a moment, as he massaged the kinks from her legs and
thighs. After a while she asked, "Which part of the house should I clean
first?"
He laughed and replied, "Let me show you my dungeon!"
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