FLASHBACK
“So this is Belle is it?
As she remained kneeling, awaiting Miss Reva’s return, Belle’s mind went back to the first time that had been said to her. Her training was over … and she had just received her slave-name. She was, of course, unfamiliar with it
The person who enquired was a fat middle-aged German by the name of Herman. He had just led her on a collar and chain into his suite … and he accompanied his words with a hearty slap on Belle’s bare bottom.
“Y-Yes … Master,” she replied as respectfully as she could. Inside, she was taut with apprehension. This was the first guest she had ever been given to.
Actually, to be more correct, she had not been given to the German, but rather been claimed by him. With a number of other slave-girls, she had been taken to an ante-chamber in the Harem and placed ‘on the hook’ as it was known. The girls literally were hooked to the wall by collar and chain … and there they waited for any guest, male or female, to wander in and look them over. If a girl took a guest’s fancy, she was led a way.
Two men, who had come in together … both a little d***k … had wanted Belle. So they tossed for her. The humiliation of that spinning coin lived long with Belle. Though trained, her feelings were still far more sensitive than they were later to become.
So she had been led away … by this waddling pig of a man.
I must not fail, this first time, she told herself.
I must please him to the limit of my ability … no matter what my feelings.
I must … I must!
Otherwise, the consequences did not bear thinking about. Hassan, the overseer in charge of her, had made it clear that failure to please a guest was one of the most serious offences possible …
Herman fondled her indecently … and Belle f***ed a travesty of a smile.
“Not always Belle, though, was it?” The fingers continued to probe. Herman’s mouth was twisted in lechery. He liked having a woman of class to play around with.
“N-No … Master …”
“Lady Isabel, wasn’t it?”
Belle bit her lips. Oh how they loved to do this to her! To remind her of her past. It was bitterly cruel. That’s why they did it, of course.
“Y-Yes, Master.” She whispered.
Herman grinned. “Well, let’s have a look at your bottom, my lady.” As Belle turned, he removed the collar and chain. “No … not like that … you’ve been taught how to show yourself to your best advantage. Down you go.”
Belle went on hands and knees and thrust up her bottom high, parting her thighs as she did so. It was something she had now had to do, countless time … until it had become second nature to be in that degrading posture.
However, though it was gradually becoming less fierce, she could almost feel his eyes boring into her. Then he gave a little chortle. “I wonder what some of your top-drawer friends would think … and say … if they could see you know!”
Belle ground her teeth. She had sometimes thought that herself … so the remark felt all the more savagely wounding. She was finding the effort of self-control more difficult than she had done for a long while. The bubbling of suppressed hate and fury had begun.
Oh dear God, help me control it, she prayed silently.
There was the sound of Herman clumsily divesting himself of his clothes.
“Up you get, your ladyship,” he said.
Belle rose and turned. Naked, Herman looked even more repulsive. He seemed fatter now and his squat body was very hairy, many of the hairs being grizzled. A stubby little penis hung flaccid.
Try not to think about it, she said to herself.
Of him…
Of what he is going to make you do…
You’ve had worse than this. Think … that time you were locked in a pillory and ****d by a dozen or more Palace guards, for instance. So you can survive this…
Belle f***ed a kind of smile. “Wh-What would you have … m-me … do, Master?” she asked softly.
“You’re going to suck me, my girl. That’s what you’re going to do. But, before that, you’re going to lick my arse, all over. I like the idea of a member of the aristocracy doing that. So genteel, don’tcher know!”
Herman waddled to the bed and then knelt in the centre of it.
Belle felt the disgust rising in her at the revolting spectacle. But there was no escaping what she had to do. She clenched her fists tight.
“I shall be honoured, Master,” she f***ed herself to say.
“I bet you will, your ladyship!” said Herman, with a guffaw.
God help me … how can I do it? How? Shuddering, Belle climbed on to the bed and knelt behind the bestial object. Then she closed her eyes and bent forward. She extended her tongue and began to lick one of the fat buttock cheeks.
She licked it methodically all over, periodically having to pause to fight down her nausea.
“Get on with it, my girl,” Herman would say sharply, “or I’ll take a strap to you!”
Belle got on with it, nostrils flaring, eyes screwed tight.
The hate in her swelled like a fiery ball in her belly. She would have given her life to have a razor in her hand at that moment … and to have made this revolting b**st a eunuch!
Oh … no … dear God … she mustn’t think like that! Too dangerous, … far too dangerous…
The second buttock cheek was licked all over.
“Now get your nose in … well in … and lick there …” came the order.
For a moment, the nausea rose so high that Belle almost lost control. Somehow, desperately, she fought it down. Somehow she made herself lick … in the most disgusting place of all.
Belle never knew quite how…
But she did it.
From time to time, Herman would give a little grunt of pleasure … and give Belle a few words of ‘encouragement’.
“That’s it, your ladyship…”
“Nicely done … mmm … yes …”
“Not your usual style, of course …”
“Lovely, you’re doing well …”
“Now start licking my balls as well…”
On and on it went. Would he never have enough of it? It was, Belle realised, not so much physical pleasure her was receiving, but mental. The knowledge that an English Lady was being made to lick him like that!
Oh the b**st … the filthy, filthy b**st!
Then at long last, Herman rolled over. She saw him looking at her with his piggy eyes, grinning sadistically.
“I enjoyed that,” he said, “but now you can really get down to business, my beauty.”
Herman got on to his back and settled himself comfortable in a half-upright position. He opened his podgy thighs and beckoned Belle to crawl between them.
“It may take sometime,” he said thickly. “which suits me well …”
Looking down, Belle saw that the penis had swollen just a little. Compared with the organ of Hassan, and most of the other overseers and guards, it was a pitiful-looking object. Herman seemed unconcerned about that, however. Doubtless, though Belle, he gets as much vile pleasure out if it as they do from theirs.
As Belle went down, Herman’s hands cupped her pendulous breasts and began to squeeze them, looking straight ahead, he could see a reflection of himself. Also, of course, of Belle’s superb naked hindquarters. Maybe, he thought hopefully, I shall get sufficiently roused to fuck this beauty. Oh God … I hope so! How maddening age was … making one half potent. On the other hand, he was partly to blame … always indulging himself to excess.
He felt the stirrings of lust in his chubby loins as Belle began to suck him most expertly … and deliciously. He lay back and relaxed, savouring the sensations.
This is the life, he said to himself!
In about five minutes, he would have been brought to a full erection. Or, at least, made as hard as he was going to get that night. Then he’d have to make a decision.
Either to shoot what little he’d got into the lovely, ever sucking creature’s mouth. Or hurry around and attempt to fuck her, whilst he’d still got something of a size on.
It was a decision Herman was in no hurry to make!
THE BLONDE OVERSEER came back and turned to Haroun. “She has seen Miss Lirium?”
“Yes Miss Reva.”
Hard blue eyes turned on Belle. “So you know your first duties, slave?” There was a faintly derisive twitch of the lips. It was the kind of contempt which, in much earlier days, would have caused Belle to lose control of h volatile emotions. And, thus, suffer exceedingly.
“Yes, Miss,” she replied with humble deference, lowering her eyes and raising them again. We are much of an age, this Miss Reva and I, she thought. But what an ocean there was between them!
“Well, you will carry those duties out to the complete satisfaction of her Highness … or you, too, will feel this.” The martinet trailed a few inches across the carpet. “You understand, Belle?”
“I … I understand, Miss.”
“As a slave of some experience, you should of course. But, be warned, as you are ‘on probation’, I and the others will be watching you closely. Show me your bottom, girl.”
Instantly, in the prescribed up-thrusting manner, Belle presented her hindquarters to the young Overseer.
“You appear to have had a recent taste of the rod.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“What was that for?”
Belle explained her error, concluding with the words: “…. and I deserved to be punished for my stupidity.”
Again that faint derisive smile over Miss Reva’s lips. This aristocrat had indeed been well humbled. She wondered, for a few moments, if there was any way to stir up those smouldering fires of pride, now so subdued.
“Yes, that’s true, Belle. I must say, you’ve got quite a nice arse. Though, having been a Pony, I expect you’ve been told that often enough.”
“Yes, Miss.” Still the same controlled voice. Humble, accepting.
“All right … stand up…”
Belle got to her feet. She was a shade taller than the overseer and had a superb carriage. It was not difficult to think of her as a Princess herself. That was what made it all the more delightful to have absolute power over her. The pleasure glowed unashamedly in the Overseer’s eyes.
“I am handing you over to Haroun now. He will give you a physical examination … massage and so on. Later I will show you your place of duty … and instruct you upon those duties. Go now, slave … and don’t forget my warnings.”
“No, Miss …”
Making a deferential inclination of her head, Belle followed Haroun from the outer room. At least, she reflected; I am over the first hurdle uns**thed. Miss Reva, she sensed, would have been only too delighted to pounce on a newcomer.
Once more Belle found herself behind the broad-shouldered, muscle-rippling body of the Arab Haroun. She was led back into the main hall of the harem … then across to the other side … through another maze of passages. They passed through a well-heated chamber containing a small swimming pool. Several slaves were swimming lazily in its scented waters. Then they came to a series of similar rooms in a corridor. Entering one, Belle found it had an almost clinical appearance. In its centre was a broad table topped with black leather. There were sun-ray, or ultra-violet, lamps: shelves on which stood jars of oil; a number of strange looking ‘devices whose immediate object was not obvious.
“Up with you, my pretty,” Haroun said, giving Belle’s bottom a half-friendly slap. This English woman was rather out-of-the-ordinary and he was rather looking forward to enjoying her a little later on.
Complaisant, Belle lay back on the couch while Haroun’s hands ran over her, feeling the firmness of her flesh.
“You’re in good condition. Been a Pony, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Master.”
“That accounts for it.”
The Arab looked at Belle’s nipples and her nose. “As a Pony, you will have been pierced, of course. Pity … I like piercing a slave. Mmmm … they look nice and clean. Open your mouth.”
Belle opened wide and Haroun saw a perfect set of teeth. “Good. Close…”
Haroun’s hand ran down over Belle’s stomach. Then over the depilated smoothness of her mound. Automatically, as a trained slave-girl does, Belle parted her thighs rather than pressed them together. Firm fingers fondled and probed briefly.
“Mmmm … nice plump cunt. Feels good. Now turn over, girl.”
Belle twisted her body over and lay face down, feeling Haroun’s hand run lightly over her firm curvaceous nates.
“Good … very good,” murmured Haroun. A finger went into her cleft. It pressed and probed at her anus. “How about this? Been used much? It feels very tight.”
“N-Not … much … M-Master,” answered Belle. There was a nervous edge to her voice. Haroun had found a chink in her armour. If there was one thing which Belle found difficult to accept, it was anal practices. She shivered and squirmed a little as Haroun’s finger probed a little deeper.
“Yes … very tight,” said Haroun, grinning happily. “We’ll have to do something about that. It will be used quite a lot in future.”
At this piece of information, Belle closed her eyes and bit her lips. She had been buggered half a dozen or so times and could never shake off the memory-horror. Fortunately, most of the men she had had to service, seemed to have preferred her in the normal way. Now, it seemed, it might be different. Belle shivered again.
“You’ll have to be stretched,” said Haroun in a matter-of-fact way. Then his hand patted Belle’s bottom. “Off the table …”
Belle was now carefully measured and weighed, the details being recorded in a note-book.
“Since you’ve been in the Stables,” said Haroun, “you must be fighting fit. So this is your best weight. You’ll stick to it. If not … well, you saw what happened to Sophia. You’ll be checked out every week, by me or one of the other guards. Got it?”
“Yes … Master …”
“Back on the table.”
Belle climbed back … and Haroun now coated her superb body in a thick, scented oil. Then her gave her a vigorous, but expert, massage. It was a gruelling experience. Sometimes Belle felt more like a piece of meat than a human body. Ultimately, she lay there, breathing heavily, but fully relaxed.
“Good, eh?” said Haroun, leaning over her, grinning. “I make you as supple as a glove, girl.”
“Yes, Master, answered Belle. She was experiencing a strange contentment. A contentment born of weakness and complete helplessness. She was utterly in this brute man’s power. Whatever she did would make no difference. So she lay there and let the tide of events drift over her. What did anything matter anymore? When one could do nothing about it? In a way, it was like having a ‘physical confessional’!
Through half -closed lids, Belle saw the amber-brown skinned Arab slip off his white satin pouch. It was no more than she had expected. She gazed on the massive organ exposed with a faint twinge of apprehension … and, it could not be denied, something else. She had expected this man to be large, but he was exceptionally large. Doubtless, all the other guards were similarly made. Hand-picked.
“Now we have a little fun, slave,” said Haroun, taking Belle by her long blonde hair. Her oily body slid easily off the table. “Kneel,” came the order.
Belle knelt. The carpet was soft under her knees. Haroun seated himself on a low trestle stool. The massive thighs were spread apart. The big organ dangled heavy.
“You will have been taught how to show respect, slave …”
“Oh yes, Master.”
“Do it, then.”
“Yes, Master.”
Belle felt truly a slave in that moment, as her blonde head bent forward. A slave in every sense. but, above all, a slave of this overpoweringly-male Arab. She must, she knew, serve him with every fibre of her being. And, once again, that thought gave her something like contentment.
This was a ritual Belle had performed countless times.
Initially, in the Training Rooms. And with what revulsion! Oh, how many whippings she had before she was made to comply!
Then with Hassan, the Nubian, her first overseer in the Harem after training was over. The revulsion was still there, but less.
Subsequently, with numerous men. Strangers. Many of them loathsome. Guests in Quireme.
Ultimately, the revulsion subsided. To be replaced by a kind of resignation. Soon it would no longer matter. She accepted the fact that her role was to be used in this way.
She became an expert.
Belle placed her hands on Haroun’s thighs. Head well down, her mouth pressed along the length. One might have said, pressed lovingly … but, surely, that would not be correct? Then her tongue began to lick. Long, laving licks.
“Mmmm … yes … quite respectful,” said Haroun, grinning. His big hands squeezed and fondled Belle’s breast fruit. It was still difficult for him to believe that this girl had once been an English Lady. But it was true, so he was told. And, soon, he was going to fuck her. Most satisfying!
Haroun came slowly but surely to erection. He was one of those men who never seemed in a hurry about anything. When he was about halfway there, Belle took his organ into her mouth and began to suck beautifully. That speeded things up considerably!
“Mmmm … ohh … that’s most respectful,” sighed Haroun. “Most…”
Belle was finding the organ almost frighteningly large in her mouth. It was not only long, it had remarkable girth. It was big as any she could recall. It was sending shudders through her. Shudders of dread … and shudders of what can only be called excited anticipation. ..A trained slave had learnt to feel no shame …. to lose all inhibitions.
Belle began to get warm inside.
“Nice, eh?” said Haroun thickly.
Belle nodded her head up and down, continuing to suck.
“Want me to fuck you, slave?”
Again the blonde head nodded.
There had been a time when Belle would have had to f***e herself to make that nod … her whole being crying out in horror. Now it was different. Now there was nothing to hold her back. No pride. No stubborness. Nothing. Now she could behave naturally.
Behave rather like an a****l…
Feel the fierce desire for this massive organ in her mouth.
Want to be fucked!
Really want to be!
Oh yes … it can be said that Belle had become a true slave in every sense of the word.
Gently, Haroun eased her up by pulling on the blonde hair. Belle, who had had her eyes closed in a concentrated effort, now opened them … to see the massive organ quivering only inches before her. Oh what a size! Enough to make any virgin faint, thought Belle!
“Nice big prick, eh?”
“Yes, Master …”
“And it’s all for you.”
“Thank you, Master…”
“Get your arse in the air, my slave.”
“Oh … yes … Master …”
Belle got down almost eagerly and thrust up her beautiful bottom, parting her thighs wide as she did so. How many times had she adopted that posture? So often in utter shame, so often in quaking dread. Impossible to say. But now it was quite different. She was trembling a little in anticipation and felt warmer than ever inside.
Haroun’s big hands took hold of Belle’s flanks.
Then she felt the big, hard knob just touching her eager sex lips. Slightly parting them. She shivered … caught her breath.
“You want to be fucked, slave?”
“Yes … oh … yes … Master …” Belle’s voice had a kind of urgency in it. She undulated her haunches slightly so that the knob slid up and down her moist lips.
“Then you shall be, slave!”
Haroun thrust in. Not brutally. But slowly but surely.
In .. In …
Right in!
The little undulating sound in Belle’s throat which began when he first entered grew louder and higher as he thrust fully home … until it ended in a gasping cry.
A cry of shock.
But a cry of disbelief.
Belle knew in that instant she had never before been taken by a man of quite such a size. She was fitted and stretched to the limit. Utterly and instantly conquered.
Oh what a true slave she felt!
Oh what a true slave she was!
there on hands and knees, to be fucked silly by this monstrous Arab cock. To give it all the pleasure it wanted! Involuntarily, Belle wriggled herself seductively … bringing great pleasure to Haroun who remained buried to the hilt savouring the warm-soft clinginess of the English beauty.
“Like it … like the feel of it?”
“Ohhh … yes … Master … I love it … ooh … fuck your slave, Master … fuck … your adoring slave … she begs your to … she begs … you …” Again, Belle wriggled seductively and Haroun found the invitation very difficult to resist.
Indeed he did not do so!
He withdrew very slowly … and then thrust back equally slowly, hearing Belle sighing happily as he did so. Then he continued in this fashion, keeping his grip on the flanks and looking down at the sex lips clinging tightly to his solid organ as it moved in and out.
As has been said, Haroun was a man rarely in a hurry. Why should he be? He had all the time he wanted. And, having had another slave-girl earlier in the
day, he knew he would have plenty of self-control.
One minute passed…
Two minutes passed…
Three minutes passed…
Belle’s sighs grew louder and she kept wriggling and undulating her haunches in an attempt to urge the Arab on.
“F-Faster … ooohh … faster … Master …” She begged at last. Haroun gave one of her bottom cheeks a none too gently slap. “Don’t you dare give me orders, slave!” He said warningly. But grinning all the same. Then he gave the cheek another slap.
“I … I beg … p-pardon … Master,” gasped Belle.
Haroun continued in his slow remorseless way, delighting in the warm gliding-smoothness of this succulent. Delighting too, in the way he had so easily and quickly conquered this lovely slave-girl.
Another few minutes and Belle began to moan. Not only the size and power of the Arab but his sheer relentlessness was driving her half mad. Filling her with lust.
Ohh … if only he would go faster!
Really fuck her!
Ravage her brutally!
But no. On and on he went in the same way … and, inevitable, Belle felt a climax approaching. She began to pant. a****l-like sounds. Then gasps and moans, her beautiful soft-smooth bottom began to quake and tremble uncontrollably.
“Come then, my beauty,” said Haroun … and gave just two quick in-and-out thrusts.
“M-Maaaaa …aaassster!” squealed Belle as, wriggling like a butterfly impaled, she spent herself violently and convulsively
Haroun, keeping a firm grip on Belle’s flanks, enjoyed to the full the squirming succulence of her. Yes … this was surely some girl! One could not have exactly called her Lady-like any more … but she made a superb fuck!
“That’s better,” he said, when the spasm had passed. “You’re nice and hot and juicy now.”
Belle with one cheek pressed to the carpet, had hr eyes closed and was moaning softly. Her mouth was open. Then she felt Haroun’s pace began to increase.
Slowly but surely.
Belle’s moans grew louder. “Oooo … aahh … M-Master … I … am … your … s-slave … your … adoring ..s-slave…”
“And now you’re going to get properly fucked, my slave!” said Haroun, his voice now thicker with his own increasing lust.
“Y-Yes … oh … yes … M-Master …” Belle began to move her hindquarters in expert co-operation with Haroun’s ever-faster thrusts.
“Ohh … you feel good, my girl … that’s it … move that arse …”
“Yes … hhhaaahhh … hhhhaaahhhhh … come … again!”
“Come then, my beauty!”
“Yeee..esss … HHHHHAAAAHHHHHHH …. N-NOW … AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”
Belle was wriggling and jerking again … out of control. And now, as Haroun began to pound into her furiously — in the savage way she had wanted at first — it seemed to Belle she was coming all the time. She heard herself gasping and squealing, with head thrown back and mouth gaping. She was aware of the frenzied movements of her own hindquarters … of the pounding of Haroun’s flanks to her bottom…
Felt the great, oily piston driving…
Driving … Driving…
Driving yet faster…
Driving…
Driving her wild!
WILD!
Then Belle heard something rather reminiscent of the roaring of a bull.
The moment, she knew, was upon Haroun now…
“HHHHAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
Belle’s min-climaxes merged, mounted, and became a major climax…
“HHHHAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”
And, in that supreme moment, Belle felt the powerful jetting of lust-released within her.
Gasping and grunting, Haroun continued to ram in jerking spasms until he was fully slaked. Then, with a sighing groan of contentment, he slumped down crushing a shuddering, drained and exhausted body beneath him.
Gradually, their mutual groans became sighs…
The silence, but for gentle breathing…
A little while later, Belle was lying face down again on the leathern table top. She felt tired and weak and would like to have slept. She also felt a tingle of nervous apprehension. Haroun came alongside her. Turning her head, she saw his organ was now sheathed back inside its white satin pouch. However, Belle still had the mighty feel of it inside her.
“Now you see why you will have to be stretched, slave?” said the Arab.
The nervous apprehension became a stab of dread. She had guessed that horrible moment might be coming.
“P-Please…” she whimpered instinctively, but stupidly, as Haroun’s hand ran over her bottom and a finger toyed with her anus.
The big hand slapped her bottom hard.
Once! Twice!
“What do you mean … ‘please’?” demanded Haroun.
“M-Master … I …”
“Are you daring to query my actions, slave?”
“No … ooo …”
But it was too late. Haroun had opened a drawer at the side of the bench and taken out a rod. It was made of whalebone … hard yet very flexible.
“Get your bottom higher!” Came the order.
Biting her lips, Belle did so. Oh what a fool she had been! Of course she should not have made any plea or protest. As a trained slave she well knew that. Maybe the exhausting fucking had temporarily disorientated her. Once more her bottom was thrust up … but now for a very different reason.
“Don’t you ever dare query my orders!”
Sssswwweeee … eeeppppttt!
“Ow … ah …. no …. Master … never again, Master.”
Another stinging-burning weal had joined those raised earlier by Miss Lirium.
“You’d better not…”
“Ssswwweeee … eeepppptttt!”
“Ahh … ow …”
“Or I’ll whip you raw!”
Sssswwweee … eeeeppptttt!
“Ooowww …oowww …”
Belle’s bottom was squirming as every stroke bit, her hands fiercely clenched the side to the bed. Not unexpectedly, Haroun had a very strong right arm!
“I’ll stripe this beautiful bottom of yours…”
Sssswwweeeee … eeepppptttt!
“Oooww … oww … oowww….”
“all over…”
Sssswweeee … eeeppppttttt!
“Ahhh … oww … ahh …”
“…until you can’t see an inch of skin!”
Sssswwwweeee … eeepppppttttt!
“Aaggghhhh…”
“Understand, my girl?”
Sssswwweeee … eeepppttttt!
“Ooww . . . . y-yes . . . yes . . . Master …”
“Understand fully?”
Ssswwweeee … eeeepppptttt!
“Aaaaghhh …y-es … M-Master …”
“Sure?”
Ssssswwweeee … eeeepppptttt!
“AAAGGGH! M-Mercy … Master …. agh … y-yes … Master …”
Belle was squirming more agonisedly with every stroke. Slowly her long-practised self-control was slipping from her.
“Absolutely sure?”
Ssssswwwweee … eeeepppptttt!
“OOOWWW … AGH … Y-Yes … Master … I s-swear…”
Then it was suddenly over and Haroun was putting the rod back in the drawer. Ten blazing new weals encircled Belle’s bottom. Sobbing … partly with the pain but also with relief that it was over … she remained kneeling there, hindquarters thrusting. Haroun gave them a pat.
“Foolish girl,” he said. “You should have known better.”
“Y-Yes … Master…”
“Lie down flat again, slave.”
Belle did so, wiping the tears from her eyes. It was, she reflected woefully, proof of Haroun’s professionalism that one moment he could be fucking her beautifully and the next caning her cruelly!
“Can you imagine what it would be like if I went up your backside while it is like it is?” came the query from above.
Belle could not restrain a shudder. “I … I think I c-can, Master,” she said in a low whisper.
“Well, then, the stretching will be for your benefit, will it not?”
“Yes, Master,” nodded Belle. But there were tears forming at the back of her eyes again. Why, oh why, did they want to use her in that vile way when … surely … surely … she had something much more attractive to offer? Belle simply could not understand it. Oh what vile creatures some men were! Arabs particularly, she knew. They enjoyed that sort of thing very much.
“So you should be grateful…”
Belle gritted her teeth. Somehow she was going to have to endure it. Resign herself to it. Just like she had ultimately resigned herself to every other horror which had been perpetrated upon her.
Then Belle suddenly realised that, for the first time for a long, long while, she had not been reacting and thinking like a trained slave. Like the submissive and obedient slave she truly was. She cursed herself inwardly. Such thoughts as she had been having were dangerous. Extremely dangerous! Look what torments they had brought her in the past!
She must have been mad to think that.
The only excuse was her excessive revulsion…
She must pull herself together. She must. She must.
“Open your legs a little, slave.”
Gritting her teeth even more firmly, Belle did so. Then she flinched involuntarily as she felt some sort of ointment being rubbed between the widened cleft of her nates.
“I am going to make it as easy as possible for you,” said Haroun.
Belle flinched again as his finger began to probe … taking ointment with it. She began to feel slightly sick … and had to summon all her reserve. You’ve endured worse than this, she told herself. Far worse!
Of course you have!
Oh God . . . that finger . . . now in so deep . . . Oh God …
A groaning sob came from Belle’s depths.
Oh God … the degradation of it!
“There,” said Haroun in an easy going way, “that will make things easier for you.”
Now Belle felt something rounded and hard pressing against her anal ring. She shuddered; gave a little involuntary moan.
“This is made of rubber,” Haroun said. “Hard rubber. And it’s shaped like a prick. But not a very big one.”
Belle’s teeth were so clenched that she thought some of them might snap. Then she felt the cold knob of the thing enter.
“Relax … relax, slave,” Haroun was saying, “or it will be worse …”
Belle realised that, instinctively, she had been clenching her nates as tight as she could. She let them go. Instantly the dildo-like device moved a fraction further in.
“You are lucky, slave,” Haroun was saying. “Some slaves just get it stuck straight up them.” He did not quite know, in fact, why he was taking this trouble over the girl. Perhaps because she had made such a superb fuck. But he did not usually let that sort of thing affect him.
He mustn’t get soft!
In went the device another inch or so … and he saw Belle whimper and shudder. She certainly doesn’t like it, he thought … so it would be rather fun to have her when she was large enough. That would take a week or two, though.
Inch by inch, slowly but surely, the device went in, with Belle gasping and shuddering all the time. But, of course, she dare not plead or protest. This, after all, was for her own good!
“There … “ said Haroun condescendingly, “that’s not too bad, is it?”
There was a choked look on Belle’s features. She made no reply … and got her weal-striped bottom slapped hard. It was, thought Haroun, a delicious bottom to slap.
“Ahh .. . no . . . no . . . Master,” answered Belle.
“But now it’s in,” continued Haroun, “we have to expand it a little. We have to stretch you.”
He turned a small screw-like wheel at the end of the dildo-device and it began to expand within Belle. Not much, just a quarter of an inch or so all round. Nevertheless, she began to sob.
Oh the horror of it!
“What’s the matter, slave?”
“N-Nothing … Master …”
“Oh … are you sure?”
Yes, Master … I j-just wish … wish to thank you, Master … for … for … what you have done …”
Haroun grinned broadly again.
“Ahh … that’s all right then. I’m glad you appreciate my kindness, girl.”
“Yes … yes, Master … I … mmmfff … I … mmff .. do …”
Belle simply could not stop herself sobbing.
The device thrust into her wan an obscene sort of intrusion. Yet she had to accept it. Live with it.
“It will stay where it is — more or less permanently — for the next two weeks,” said Haroun. “But as time passes, it will be increased in length and girth. Until you are quite used to it. Do you understand?”
“Mmff . . . mmmfff … oh … y-yes … mmmfff … mmmfff … mmmfff . . . M-Master . . . . u-u-uuuuughhhhhhh . . .”
Belle burst into a flood of tears … accompanied by heaving shoulders and belly-quaking sobs. For the moment, she was quite, quite defeated.
Haroun smiled down on her. Then turned the wheel on the device another notch. Belle gasped and shuddered. “You’ll soon feel fine,” he said. “Yes … real fine!”
He slapped that curvaceous bottom once more.
“Oooww….”
“For the time being, just stay where you are … I’ll check out when you’re first on duty….”
Belle listened to Haroun depart. Her eyes were filled with tears; she repeatedly bit her lips. This new intrusion into her body was a degrading horror … but there was nothing she could do but endure it.
Belle lay there in silent resignation. Since they could do anything they liked with her, what was the point of protesting or resisting?
There was none.
Absolutely none.
She had earned herself ten cruel strokes of the rod for forgetting that. She absorbed the burning throb-throb of the weals. Oh they hurt … how they hurt! No matter how long one’s experience, one could never get used to pain. The last time always seemed almost as bad as the first. They knew that.
That’s how slaves were kept in submission. That’s how they were made to obey.
How stupid I was, Belle told herself. If I had accepted Haroun’s ministrations in silence, those fiery weals would not be there now. She placed her hand as lightly as she could on her right buttock cheek. “Ahhh!” she gasped and shed a tea. How hot they felt, those little ridges of torment. And how many of those had been raised on bottom since she became a slave, Belle wondered, with a stab of self-pity?
Hundreds … maybe thousands.
Every one an agony, to a lesser or greater degree. Belle’s mind drifted back. With a sudden vividness, she recalled the first punishment block she had been put over.
Oh the unbelievable horror of that!