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GOREAN TAVERNSLUT,

A Gorean kajira themed story, voiced from a first person pespective, but
respectfully internalised in the proper 3rd person. emily hopes this story is
pleasing to her Masters & thrilling to her fellow slaves Gorean Kajira, in
Strict Bondage, Slavegirls Punished Whipped Branded Raped Dildoed Chastity Belts
Hoods Gags Humiliated Lesbian BDSM Submissive fellatio slavegirl emily





MONDAY 21 DECEMBER 2009


THIS GIRL BEGS TO PLEASE YOU MASTER





I knelt on the rough stone tiles at his feet. Tiles that I and the other girls
meticulously scrub & polish to a marble sheen every day. Naked on all fours, or
in humiliating punishment, with wrists braceleted, behind our backs holding the
scrubbing brush in our teeth. Every day and all day, so that the men are
pleased. Our menial labours did nothing to mitigate the hardness of the stone on
our bare feet, or bodies. This did not concern the masters, why would it.
“What is your use name girl?” He asked me.
Use or rape name, a convenience for him rather than me. I have been renamed
several times on the tavern owners whim. I liked emily, it retained its original
earth meaning, of someone who constantly tries hard. Most Gorean names have
stories attached. For example emily is the name of a wife who tried to please
her husband so much, that he enslaved her as a reward for her feminine
diligence. My last name adele, reversed its earth meaning. The daughter of a
rich merchant spurns her suitor an officer, angered by this he simply enslaves
her, and leads her away. Choosing not even to rape her but gives her to his men
to enjoy, before selling it. I and the other girls love the names we have
imposed on us & the romance of the stories.
We frequently fantasise on the narrative of our names. Embroidering the tale
with rich sensuous minutiae. Sometimes the masters will expect to hear these
most secret fantasies for their entertainment. Amused at our extreme discomfort
& obvious sexual excitement. These tales take on an extra dimension when we are
renamed & another girl has your former name. the fantasy is now attached to the
other girl, & you begin to have fantasise about her too, as well as yourself &
your new name. This element of sapphic eroticism becoming increasingly intense
as we slaves are expected to comport ourselves in a sexually pleasing way, at
all times. For the mens pleasure, but quite impossible to resist the sexual
allure of your fellow slavegirls. Going about our chores naked, or in skimpy
diaphanous clothing.



“emily Master, for your pleasure Master”
“Your breasts are pretty in your apron, emily”
My breasts pressing pleasingly, straining at the pink diaphanous fabric. Belled
nipples taut & sore they were so hard. I squirmed helpless, giddy with delight
at his words. The apron fabric was lustrously shiny, plasticky & metallic in
appearance. Thin and slippery to wear. It felt demeaning to wear, inferior &
menial. Only fit for a dependant bimbo who was there to submissively provide
pleasure, on demand. A female who is rightfully & deservingly, sternly &
painfully punished if she fails to please her male superiors. The apron was tiny
just barely covering my clean smooth pubic mound & my breasts. It had no back at
all. Just a thin tie that fastened in a bow under my breasts, capturing &
lifting them sweetly in the fabric pressing them upwards to Him. The glossy
fabric completely sheer where it pressed against my curves. Wearing it you felt
cheap, worthless. Which I was. A bought & branded slavegirl. But wearing it you
felt utterly sensuous & sexual, I loved it.


“You are a pretty slut emily”
“emily thanks you Master” I gushed.
I flushed with pleasure, my thighs suddenly feeling very warm.
“You smell pretty now too girl”
I blushed furiously as I heard myself squelch wetly.
“Yes, Master thank you Master”
I was very hot & liquid between my legs now.
He snapped his fingers indicating his sandaled feet.
“Kiss my feet emily”
“Yes Master”
Going on to all fours I knelt over him kissing his warm, slightly odorous,
sandaled feet lovingly & softly through my tiny mouth veil.
“Speak slut, you may beg to please me”
In actual fact slut isn’t strictly a true translation. Gorean’s seem to have an
exhaustive list of pejorative words for female pleasure slaves. Most of which
are very humiliating and most are simple varied inflections of words. To the
recipient they are felt emotionally as well as understood. From him they are
delivered dismissively, we are below the mens contempt. This particular ‘slut’
meant slave who stinks of her arousal, quite mild & affectionate. I was welling
up with pleasure to be addressed by him in this manner, & blushing with
embarrassment.
“Master may this girl fetch you refreshment, and she begs to pleasure you with
her lips Master.”
“Touch yourself girl”
“Yes Master”
Still kissing his feet I lifted my right hand between my legs. My upper thighs
were soaked incredibly hot & slippery. I opened my labia with my index finger,
freeing access to my belled clitoris. I shivered helplessly as my finger found
it soaked and hard. I was moaning kissing his feet.
“And your anus girl, penetrate yourself”
“Yes Master” I sobbed with humiliation, so shamefully delightful.
With my other hand I opened and began to probe my anal opening. It too was wet
and scandalously slippery.




Slave girls here naturally lube their anal passage too, this feature has been
bred into them. Genetic alteration drugs are used for barbarians like me.
Obviously this means we have to be scrupulous about our cleaning regimen. Petite
slave girls are preferred here so we are not fed very much. Although we are fed
peelings & discarded bits of spoiled vegetables. No meat, milk, or undiscarded
food at all, animals get 2nd choice before us. These are mixed with cheap
formulated nutrient that carefully designed & controlled to have little or no
wastage. The resultant slave porridge is a quite revolting slop a tepid room
temperature lumpy sloppy gruel that has a faint odour of vomit. Nonetheless we
gratefully eat the tiny portions we are given. While delicious smells of
roasting meats, vegetables and baking bread emanate from the kitchens. An animal
bowl is shared between 4 girls at a time, we have to eat on all fours, reminding
us of our status. All of which is expressed as urine. This tends to be thick &
syrupy, hot & stingy, but perfectly healthy.
Another trait bred into us girls is the inability to sweat freely, despite the
tropical temperatures, this too is expressed into the urinary tract, but also
into the erogenous area. Our sexual juice is also genetically modified to be
quite sweet smelling, as opposed to our urine. Men find the smell pleasant &
arousing, & only notice it faintly. We find the nearly constant dampness &
lingering smell, quite overpowering, & demeaning. But also very arousing &
spirally so. The more aroused we get the we are extremely self conscious, about
our damp smell. The more self conscious we become the more aroused we become. It
is not uncommon to find yourself quite wretched weeping with helpless frustrated
arousal & shame. For quite palpable reasons we don’t allow our misery to hamper
our chores or the mens pleasure, in any way. The whip is very painful.



“Who begs to please me?”
“emily begs to please you Master”
“& who is emily?”
“emily is a slavegirl for your pleasure Master”
“& what is that liquid sound from your legs & that smell emily”
“emily’s desperate need to please you Master.”
The tabbed blade of a pleasure whip, was pressed to my veiled lips. I gasped in
fright. Covering the well worn leather implement with fearful kisses. It tasted
& reeked of sex & fear. Needless to say it wasn’t for my pleasure, but to ensure
his is served perfectly.
He allowed me to kiss the whip for a few seconds, still masturbating myself.
Sobbing & choking on my own fear & helpless sexual excitement.
“Your sexual needs are unimportant to me slut!” His tone was firm.
“Yes Master, this girls need is to give you pleasure Master & only for your
pleasure Master” I was kissing the whip desperately now.
“Do you seek to please me to avoid punishment emily?” His voice was
inquisitorial as he pressed the whip firmly into my silk veiled lips
“No Master, never Master, emily begs to be punished if she fails to please you
Master” I was crying, almost blubbering
I would be severely caned or whipped if it was suspected I was being pleasing
merely to avoid penalty. Moreover I would be beaten if he was in anyway
dissatisfied with my service. Or beaten if he pleased, to enhance my service or
just because he chose to enjoy whipping me.
“So why do you beg to please me girl”
“emily begs to please you Master, because you chose her, Master”
“Explain girl”
“Master emily knows she is just one of many pretty tavern girls you could have
chosen Master.”
“Continue”
“Yes Master, emily knows you may have just clicked your fingers at the first
girl you saw Master”
I was still kissing lovingly & submissively at the whip, but I sensed him
enjoying, watching me touching myself.
“True, continue, slut.”
“But Master, it this slave hope that you chose her, because you found her
attractive, & sexually enjoyable.”
“Perhaps”
My heart nearly leaped into my mouth, with happiness.
“Perhaps not, slut.” His words stung.
It was not uncommon to be chosen then summarily dismissed on a whim.
“Continue, emily.”
I was pathetically happy, & relieved.
“Master, emily is so happy that you chose her. That you found her attractive, &
sexually pleasing, thrilled to her core to be found desirable by you, Master.
She begs to serve you Master.”
“Female slaves are easily flattered.” His tone was derisory.
“Yes Master, but Master, this girl hopes that even if you do dismiss her now,
you will nonetheless take pleasure in her miserable squirming, whilst you enjoy
another girl.”
“But Master, emily hopes very much for your pleasure.”
“Master emily, begs you punish her severely if she fails to please you, if her
intimate service is more disappointing than her allure Master.”



He lifted the whip away from my lips. & I lowered my mouth to his feet again.
Kissing them hotly as he watched me touch myself. I was panting & gasping with
my slave heat, my body awash with sexual arousal, kissing his feet. My eyes
closed, clouded with a red haze of need, as I moaned helplessly. Until I was on
the very edge of orgasm. Then he stopped me.
Slave girls are never permitted to masturbate till climax. I was so ashamed &
humiliated now. Before my capture on Earth, I had never masturbated. Many earth
girls don’t before the first time they have sex. I had always been excited & a
little bit uneasy at barely contained excitement I felt around boys & hence by
sex. I was very shy & quick to blush. One of my school friends had told me about
performing fellatio with her boyfriend & I nearly fainted, I was so excited &
embarrassed. The Gorean slavers look out for girls like me. I was nineteen at my
capture, the typical age, no younger than eighteen & no older than 23. Very few
slave girls of earth origin or Gorean girls have ever masturbated freely. Men
like to watch us arouse ourselves. We find it deeply shameful. Touching
ourselves in public. But also humiliating that this most intimate of things is
only for their pleasure. It brings it home deeply that our sex is for them to
enjoy, even this doesn’t belong to us.
He pushed a rough brass token into my mouth.
I was to fetch him a drink.

Posted by slave girl emily at 10:45 No comments:





A SLAVE IS SUPPOSED TO OBJECT TO HER BONDAGE



Slaves are not permitted to touch money. We are intrinsically valueless would
sully its value. Even the tavern tokens must only be carried in our mouths. Not
in our hands. A common story is that of when one of the old more liberal towns
was conquered. The women of the town were no longer to be permitted to touch
money. The towns coinage was reminted. & there was initial moves for all the
women to have their hands amputated as a salutary punishment. However it was
decided to be lenient & the women of the town were to serve for the rest of
their lives with their hands bound behind them. All chores were to be performed
whilst holding implements in the mouth. As this story spread more free women
fearing they might not be so leniently treated if captured. Stopped handling
money altogether. This also led to many very wealthy women handing over all
their property to their husbands or guardians. Which eventually led to
compulsory confiscation of all female property. & whilst technically these women
were still free, it often suited their husbands or guardians to dispose of the
now powerless women by enslaving them. Although it was not then legal to
summarily enslave a woman in her own city. Many females found themselves outside
the city walls at night, naked & bound. Waiting to be leashed by the slavers &
led away. In fact many towns & cities had a small cage just outside the gates
for just this purpose. In larger cities the woman would be enslaved then taken
back through the gates as property.

The woman would usually find strangers waiting for her in her chambers. She
would be led away. Often her guardian or husband would pay the strangers in
front of her. Numb with shock & fright she would be led away & out of the city
gates. The city guards uninterested in her fate. A female, with no assets,
powerless, unimportant. If the girl wasn’t whitesilk, or if she was noticeably
pretty, she might be raped, by her abductees and the guards. Just outside the
gates were some very small cages, just high enough to kneel cramped inside,
knees drawn up, back pressed on the top bars. She would be locked in, unbound
but unable to move herself at all, her arms held behind her by the confines of
the cage. Her face & feet pressed in by the metal. Once she was locked inside
the cage was covered with a leather closure. Sealing her inside with the smell
of her fear. Such cramped conditions were excruciatingly uncomfortable & painful
after only a few minutes. She would be waiting for most of the night. On
occasion women were left in the cages for more than a day, before being
processed, after all they weren’t going anywhere.
Often there would be more than one cage occupied on an evening. But generally
the women would be too frightened to talk to, to comfort, each other. Instead
the low frightened whimpering moaning, would heighten the others terror. The
cages were very near the guards positions & they didn’t like to be disturbed. In
addition the guards had a chemical electric prod, for shooing away stray
animals. This could be pressed under the leather curtain and to her buttocks, or
intimacies quite easily.

Eventually in the early morning a slaver would arrive. He would remove the girl
or girls from the cage. They would be assessed. At this point husbandry would
decide whether she could be sold as a slave, or if it was more economical to
dispose of her beyond the city. Usually her abductors instructions were to have
her nude except for her nether garments or panties.
During her assessment he would explain to her in detail. How she would be
displayed & if any free person wished to accuse her of past improprieties, no
matter how slight, her punishment would be a disposal. She was to be branded
with hot irons, sold whipped and raped. At some point she would wet herself with
fright. He would then stop and gag her with her soiled undergarment. She would
be whipped cruelly for toileting herself without permission & then bound ready
to be taken back into the city as a slave.
In the city she was taken to the slavers square & put kneeling into a wooden
stock. Her head held by the headboard at an angle facing forwards so her
features were clearly visible at foot level. Still gagged with her panties she
would be left displayed like this all day. Men would come and casually examine
her, or stand around their feet close to her face discussing other more
important matters. Incidentally she had little to fear from accusers, her
reduction to slavery had made her & her past behaviour trivial. Also women would
come to look at her. Shrouded in their full body veils. Free women are kept in
full bodily purdah here. The garment has no visible eye openings & is a closely
fitting sheath. The fabric is thinner near her eyes so she can see dimly
through. However the garments are made out of quite glossy, shiny fabrics,
almost wet look & quite close fitting.
The object is not her modesty, but her control & subservience. Although she is
not a slave, she is still under male domination. The fact that she is permitted
in the public space at all is a privilege. In that space she is expected to be
timorous & deferential. Many women at the time were confined to the home.
Further to this she must be nude under the veil, no pockets or any ability to
take anything into the public space. Her ankles are joined by a short chain,
designed to make her gait feminine. On that chain hangs a metal disk identifying
her guardians household.

Her curves are clearly visible through the veil, only her identity is hidden. In
the public space she is intimidated, many men will slap her legs or buttocks to
move her aside, some use canes. Many are groped, some are raped, or made to
perform fellatio through their sheaths. Often this will lead to instant
enslavement. & even if it doesn’t she is very unlikely to venture out of her
house again. Wives are no longer permitted to leave the home. Single women are
afraid to express their sexuality here, as that usually leads to enslavement.
Some young women, aroused by the highly charged sexual atmosphere, but
frustrated and afraid to approach men meet up secretly & touch each other
furtively through their sheaths. However these women are frequently caught &
made slaves. Gradually the entire population was being enslaved.
These girls trembling in their sheaths come to gape in horror at women they
might have known. Leaving them wondering if other of their friends who may
simply be not permitted to leave the house have met a similar fate. Indeed will
they be next? Some confess scandalised to each other that they wish it were
they. The naked girls in the stocks no matter what they may have wished for
before, now wish they were anywhere but here.

Eventually a very long day finishes for the new slave. Before the close of the
business day she is taken to the branding smiths shop. The hearth will be
cooling now but the shop still smells strongly of burnt flesh. Terrified she
will have to be dragged inside. Behind a stout leather curtain women are locked
kneeling on all fours in stocks. They have already been branded, according to
the colour of the paint on the soles of her feet, her waiting time in the
stocks. Unlike today when the salves can heal a brand in an hour or so. Though
the stinging pain of the brand lasts for much, much longer months, rather than
days until the pain becomes psychosomatic & emotional rather than physical.
Which is a propos also the intent. In these times 5 days was needed before the
wound was healed enough to be touched without marring the pretty scar. It should
be noted too in these times. Women were marked as slaves, rather than as
specific property, her collar identified her owner. These days when rebranding
is painful but simple, she is marked as property & specific property, 2 brands.
Collars have all but disappeared, unfashionable these days, when all women,
except breeding stock, are slaves. Rather it is the breeding stock who are
collared. Daughters given to other families to breed & mother children to cement
relationships.
These women are kept in strict purdah, only seeing their husbands & children &
each other. They nurture the children until the youngest son is old enough to
enter the academies at 8. the girls are raised in seclusion in purdah till 18
when the female children are either given to other families for eventual
breeding or sold into slavery. The mothers are either taken to distant foreign
cities and sold as slaves, or sold to peasants as work slaves, or disposed of.
It is these wives who wear the locked collar as a wedding ring.
So the girls were left for 5 days held in the stocks, kneeling on all fours. The
new slave is locked in the stock alongside the other freshly branded slaves. She
is hooded in the stock as are the other girls & the curtain closed. The shop is
then locked for the night. In the morning she will be branded. The pain from the
hot iron will cause her to wet herself & defecate involuntarily. She must clean
the branding iron with her panties & clean up the mess she has made with them
also. Before being gagged with them again. This is the only moisture she will
get for five days. & then once again locked in the stock. Waiting for her wound
to heal. For now though she waits in the darkness of her hood, foully gagged.
Listening to the gagged mumbles of pain & extreme discomfort. The stocks are
very uncomfortable. The captive can barely move a muscle. & the position on all
fours head lower than the upraised buttocks, is very muscularly uncomfortable.
She or rather her brand & intimacies can be examined quite conveniently from
behind in this position. even if she wasn’t hooded the stock prevents her from
looking around behind her. Her brand is examined for infection. In these times a
few of slaves were designated as wastage due to spoilage. Also her anus &
urethra are checked for discharge, involuntary or disobedient the consequences
for her are the same. She is livestock now & disposable if her performance is
unsatisfactory. The small cage is stifling as the curtain is designed to keep
flies out but this also makes the air very stale The area is very hot & stinks
of stale burnt flesh & fear. Also the smell from soiled panties is very
unpleasant, the moisture from her mouth keeping the odour of her filth fresh.
The taste doesn’t bear thinking about. There are many times that men are
thankful that they are the Masters & this must be one of them.
When I was captured on earth I had obviously been terrified. Being quite demur &
shy I used to wear a little white lace slip & pantie set, for bed. It was quite
sensual I suppose but nobody but me had ever seen me in it. It was my secret.
Although many girls of my age did wear such bed lingerie for their boyfriends or
slept naked, I was still a virgin. The boys I knew, were just that boys,
although physically exciting. The men I was attracted to scared me, and also
made me feel slightly ashamed to be attracted to such the dominant type. So much
so that I would find myself blushing quite furiously, just watching films. Much
to my girlfriends amusement, if only they could see me now. I had once fainted
with excitement in class, when my friend told me about fellatio with her
boyfriend. A sporty type who we both knew I had a crush on too. I had never been
able to speak to him again. I wondered where my friend was now. Sometimes I
fervently hope she has been taken in the night like me, so she too can be free
in bondage. & sometimes I hope she hasn’t. Apparently the slavers look out for
very vulnerable, shy girls like me, our feminine coyness indicates a natural
urge to be totally submissive.
We are derisorily called love slaves, meaning we are totally captive to our
emotions, being totally helpless in the arms of a master. But being especially
responsive to the strictest of masters. Organically all female slaves are like
this. But a love slaves in bondage is fantastically more a pathetic hostage to
her femininity & his maleness. Which is why the slavers go to the, slightly more
trouble of capturing us earth girls.
I had been fast asleep & wakened by a hand clamped across my mouth, in the pitch
blackness. My wrists were also clamped behind me in his massively strong hands.
I had screamed into the hand there was laughter. He wasn’t alone. I felt him
swiftly & expertly tie my wrists. It was done in an instant, I was roped. Then I
felt a cold hard battery shaped object pressed between my legs. Was I to be
raped with something? However I wasn’t going to be fortunate to escape with
that. He found my intimate opening & pushed the object against my urethra &
clitoris. Then I squealed in agony as a massive jolt of electricity was
triggered. I had never felt such pain, such inescapable agony. I had completely
wet my knickers. The men were laughing. My squeal had been muffled quite
effectively by his hand. The sodden panties were stripped from & shoved into my
mouth. With a fist in my hair I was yanked from the bed & thrown onto my knees,
then pushed face down at their feet. The device was pushed between my buttocks
into my anus.
“Will you be obedient blondie?”
My terrified affirmative reply was muffled.
The light was on now. The other man pressed his fingers into my vagina, testing
my hymen as I later realised.
“She is white silk.”
“She is quite pretty.”
“We could rape her anyway.”
“Do you want to be raped slut?”
My muffled reply was amusing to them.
“We can fuck the other one for now, this one will soon have her legs opened.”
“You can look forward to your rape later slut.” I was told
My sobbing into my panties must have pleased them as they laughed again.
Then another jolt of agony.
“I still prefer the whip.”
“She will soon feel the leather.”
“That’s another thing for you to look forward to girl, your first whipping”
The look of terror inmy eyes amused them.
I was dragged into the other room. My living room. Two more men were sitting
there. And a girl, one of my neighbours. I didn’t know her name. She was blonde
& pretty like me. She was kneeling between one of the mens legs performing
fellatio. She too was in lingerie a pantie & suspender set. Her bra was ripped &
she was shiny with semen all over her face, breasts on her bruised inner thighs.
She had been raped several times. The men had been in no hurry, we were the last
of the shipment. I was left kneeling facing the wall while they continued to
enjoy my neighbour. They were drinking beer & my wine, smoking my cigarettes,
helping themselves to my food. Throwing any rubbish on my expensive carpet.

Then the buzzer to my apartment went. One of the men answered gruffly quickly,
it was very early in the morning.
The other blonde was then bound like me & gagged with her torn sticky panties.
One of the men grabbed a fistful of her hair and bent her over, her head at his
beltline. Then another man seized me. My rear was soundly & painfully slapped &
we were dragged off down the corridor.
The men were quite casual in the lift. Then in the car park the building
attendant arrived. One of the men pushed a roll of notes into his hand.
“Fuck that stuck up little bitch for me”
“Which one?”
He laughed “Both of the little cunts.”
The other men laughed as he walked off.
We were dragged to a big black car. The boot was opened. Already there was 4
girls bond in there. Our ankles were bound & a black cloth hood tied over our
heads. The heavy leather ¾ transport body hood would come later. We were thrown
into the boot & it was locked.
We are derisorily called love slaves, meaning we are totally captive to our
emotions, being totally helpless in the arms of a master. But being especially
responsive to the strictest of masters. Organically all female slaves are like
this. But a love slaves in bondage is fantastically more a pathetic hostage to
her femininity & his maleness. Which is why the slavers go to the, slightly more
trouble of capturing us earth girls.
It is said to be a labour of love seeking out & capturing earth girls. Although
we are easy to ensnare, the life of a Gorean slave trader is purely one of
cattle markets and auctions. Peasant girls of saleable age are penned by their
communities & sold usually in groups to passing traders. Usually this is of
mutual satisfaction to all parties. The peasant is free of a female mouth to
feed. The girls are free of a life of backbreaking rural labour & childbirth.
The trader pays a low price for the girls and also gets to employ the girls as
beasts of burdens for his goods between his various stops. The girls are always
healthy & duskily very good looking. Very grateful & submissive too, requiring
very little punitive training or supervision.
The city girls are taken at 18 down to the slave yards & are shipped out of the
city to far flung cities. Often quite an arduous unpleasant month long journey
for the gagged & hooded slaves. Usually riding in cramped cage wagons. Or
marched barefoot along the sides of the paved roads. The process is still purely
a cattle dealing commercial affair.
Whereas the slavers on earth seek out suitable girls. Often resorting to purely
physical capture. But for their amusement, the thrill of the hunt, even if it is
for easy prey like us, often playing elaborate hoaxes & games on the
unsuspecting girl. Seduced her head in clouds of fantasy, the poor girl almost
in an ecstasy her pretty little head filled with tales of riches or love. Before
she finds herself a bound & gagged prisoner. How easily we are tricked by men
who understand us. Some girls are given subtle hints of the nature of Gor.
Obviously concentrating on the Disney aspects of submission & punishment & only
after these girls foolishly beg sensual concubinage do they find out that you
should be careful what you wish for. Especially if you are a female in the
Gorean slavers sights.
The captured girls are transported to portals & pushed through to be collected
on the other side by the slave transporters. Forced into a heavy leather sack
the body hood. She was pushed to her knees, her mouth was ungagged, for a few
seconds. They forced her into the leather sheath, distraught. The leather was
quite thick but polished & creamed so as to be very supple. It came down to her
thighs, at her head a thick ball of leather was pushed into her mouth,
distressingly the ball expanded to fill her mouth. External straps secured the
gag, similar straps bound her upper & lower arms tightly. A thick strap went
between her legs and another clamped her thighs together. There was no need to
lock them, she was utterly powerless inside the hood. Her ankles were hobbled.
They left her kneeling in front of them. In the darkness of the tight leather,
clammy with fear, her own & the hoods previous occupants, she sobbed helplessly
into her gag. Secured now she was ignored, as the men waited for the transport.
But there was first an unpleasant procedure to be endured by the girls. In all
fairness even the men didn’t enjoy the enema procedure. It seemed painful &
cruel even for slaves. However the alternative was the inconvenience of feeding
& watering the slaves regularly. & the sooner they painfully learned obedience
the better.
A bota of wine was often passed around while the capsules were softening in the
liquid, eventually they were ready. The first girl to be processed had her head
pushed firmly to the ground. He buttocks were lifted up & the hood unbuckled
around her thighs. One of the men lifted one of the capsules from the boiling
water. Tossing it from hand to hand it was so hot. Another of the men spread her
buttocks & the capsule was expertly rammed into place, right up inside her. Even
inside the hood gagged as she was, her squeals & moaning were loudly audible.
The other girls squirmed in distress. She was a virgin so the hood was simply
closed & re-buckled shut. She knelt against the wall squirming & sobbing in
pain.
The transport enemas contained, nutrients so that she could be transported for
up to 2 weeks without being fed or watered. As new arrivals the capsule had also
been spiked with a language drug that greatly aided the new slaves in learning
gorean, simple iteration was all that was needed to teach gorean. The enemas
also contained the genetic modifications done to female slaves here. Transport
times being usually 4 to six weeks meant this would be done at least one further
time. She might be permitted to toilet on the next application of the enemas,
during the six week transportation. Although this was often neglected, her
discomfort is of no consequence. & did no permanent damage at least physically.
One of the girls kicked out fearfully as they opened her hood, a sharp crack of
the shortened bullwhip across her legs silenced her & the other slaves.
One by one the girls were processed, the virgin or white silk girls simply had
the enemas applied and the hoods closed. The girls who weren’t virgins had thick
rubber phalluses, self lubricated with greasy jelly attached to the bottom belt
of the hood, secured into the anus & vagina. The girls would squirm on these for
the remainder of their transportation, developing internal muscles. This
reflected the different expectations of slavegirls. White silk girls are
expected to be tight & part of their pleasure is opening them for the first
time, to some extent enjoying a girls reluctance & distress. Non white silk
girls were expected to be tight but open & penetrated easily, the only
resistance her fear. Also the dildos are seen as punishment for the earth girls,
for using their bodies for their own pleasure, without a Masters permission,
inexcusable misappropriation of his property.
The portals are key to successful slave importation. Contrary to popular belief,
Gor is not another planet, but our own roughly 10,000 years in the future after
we had allowed our greed & reliance on technology to destroy most of it. Leaving
only a Mediterranean & middle eastern rump, surrounded by deadly snow deserts in
the north & sandy equally deadly deserts in the south. The portals are quantum
gates that allow residents of the future, & only such residents the Goreans to
travel back & forth. This also only applies to males. The transport from the
past is one way only & only for females. Often male criminal helpers from the
past are allowed to go to the future as a reward for services. Or so they think,
usually it is to repay some act of petty treachery or dishonour. The man finds
himself suddenly female & waiting retribution. Her or rather his recollections
usually last for an hour or so. His helpless impotent now anger, fading to a
bimbo like hazy fear at her new fate. The weak men of the past period are
regarded with only slightly less contempt than the women.
The success of the portals resides in the application of quantum mechanics &
many worlds theory theory, in that for every parsing event the universe splits
asunder into two separate irreconcilable realities. So although there is a
steady stream of usually American & European captives taken from college
campuses in each split reality only one girl has gone missing & she is virtually
impossible to trace. In any case tracks are well covered by rewarding any male
accomplices.
The transporters on the other side are unaware of these new girls and react
quite angrily to her feminine confusion. He is amply repaid.
All of the advanced technology & medicine, the magic of Gor is from the past. In
self contained & powered very compact tools. That are seemingly unfathomable, in
terms of medicine, they just work. & unbreakable in terms of the devices, due
mainly to the dangerous nature of its internal power. No moving parts &
seemingly everlasting. Lighting, lifting drilling, devices, that are harnessed
in quite novel ways by the Greco/roman technology of the Gorean age. Most
popular are the music devices incidentally, seemingly containing an everlasting
supply of voice activated music & recordable too. In the past slavegirls were
employed to sing helpless love songs in choirs or harmonies, to be recorded. The
lewdness of the female voice a pleasant accompaniment to the lewdness of her
rape cries.
The surprisingly quiet car had driven us away to our slavery.
Like me & countless other girls owned now
Here she is waiting for tomorrow frightened, merely property now. Her life as a
person over.
Furthermore she is not permitted to toilet for these long five days of painful
healing. This isn’t told to her, she just knows. Everything now is by male
permission. This makes her extremely pliable on the auction block. A female who
is absolutely desperate to toilet is absolutely obedient. How lovely is such a
slave in tears utterly dependant, utterly female.

Posted by slave girl emily at 10:44 No comments:





A LOVING GIRL FOR YOUR PLEASURE & SERVICE MASTER



“Yes Master” I mumbled over the thick coin.
The token was quite sticky & tasted strongly of sex. Because women are not
permitted to hold money the coins aren’t cleaned. Sometimes women are made to
carry them to the counter in their mouths, at other times on all fours, holding
the coin clenched between your buttocks, or between your thighs. This doesn’t
bother the men, because the coins are just tossed into a brass bowl. These coins
are only ever cleaned by being in our mouths. They only serve a symbolic role.
It is a simple matter for the barkeeper to keep a simple tally or to collect the
money from the table. Rather they are designed so that we can fetch Masters
drink in a suitably menial fashion. For the price of a drink any man can fuck me
as much as he pleases, for as long as he pleases. & whip me if, I am displeasing
in the slightest, or if he so wishes. In fact not even a drink is required.
I started to rise, but he snapped his fingers
“Fours” I was ordered.
I dropped back to my hands & knees & crawled towards the bar. I could barely
bear to stand or crawl, yet I hurriedly did so. Masters are not forbearing.
At the bar several girls were waiting on all fours, similarly coin gagged, one
distressed girl was clutching her coin between her buttocks precariously. She
was trembling with fear. The bar keeper was keeping her waiting, enjoying her
discomfort. If she dropped it she would be beaten. She was dark haired but
another earth girl, most of us imported slaves are blonde, but not all. I was
called before her, I didn’t feel any guilt or remorse only relief to have the
coin out of my mouth. Rather she felt the sting of the whip than me.
“Up” I was ordered, immediately I stood before him, my arms outstretched.
A chilled tankard of frothy fizzy beer was thrust roughly into my hands. Akin to
lager & very strong & refreshing. How I would love just one tiny sip, rather
than the stale often dirty bucket of water we girls are permitted drink from.
I clutched it between my breasts.
“Thank you Master”
“Go”
Actually the dismissal was much terser. The translation akin to ‘fuck off little
cunt, why are you keeping your Master waiting’. The sharpness of the command
making me flinch & blanche with fright.
“Yes Master”
I quickly turned & hurried away through the busy tavern.
I was almost crying as I hurried off. This master had been on of my first
feminine infatuations. On my first few weeks here, every morning when I passed
him he had soundly slapped my bare bottom, causing me to cry out in surprise &
excitement. He had then tersely ordered me to attend to my chores. Frightened I
had hurried away. This had continued for a couple of weeks or so. Until one
morning I had knelt at his feet & begged to please him. That first morning he
had lifted me onto his lap & spanked me with his open hand. Then I had been sent
back to scrubbing the tiles, utterly wet & helplessly sexually aroused. The next
morning I had been unable to contain myself & had begged again to please him. He
spanked me again, but then pushed me between his legs for his pleasure. After he
had come in my mouth & all over my face I had been sent back to my chores.
That evening while the other girls were being toileted I had been hooded &
instructed to wait with the punishment whip clenched between my trembling
buttocks. I had been whipped severely then he told me that it was not for me to
beg to please a particular master, but to beg to please all men. I had sobbed in
terror as he had given me a lash after lash punctuating the painful
interlocution, his terse admonitions & my sobbing terrified response. I had then
been sent to serve on the tavern floor.
The next morning another tavern master had slapped my still raw tender bottom. I
had squealed in pain, sobbing fearfully. After he had enjoyed my fellatio, I was
passed round the other tavern masters. When they had finished with me & my face
was spattered & soiled, covered in their sticky pleasure I had been braceleted &
dismissed back to my chores. Now every time I feel a slap on my behind I almost
choke with fright & alarm. But also gagging & suffocating with my helpless
desire to be found pleasing & sexually obedient.

My stride was petite & feminine. In times gone by my ankles would have been
chained prettily, just 3 links apart, the central link being a small bell.
However not having them chained kept me even more frightened & diligent about my
gait. On many occasions a Master, has taken note of a lacking in my demeanour,
to be painfully corrected later. It has been explained to me that my stride
should be as if I were walking with panties around my ankles. I loved that.
One Master, soundly slapped my naked rear just on my brand as I passed him. I
made sure to squeal & blush prettily. A brunette girl was kneeling between his
legs performing fellatio, she blushed too. I heard him laugh behind me.
Almost breathlessly I reached my Master, dropping to my knees gracefully at his
feet. He paid me no attention as I knelt he was watching the two slave dancing
on the phallus shaped poles. They were joined by short nipple chains, gyrating
sensuously around the metal pole. It was slick & shiny with their juices as they
rubbed themselves on its shaft, kissing at its large head lovingly.
After some time he decided to notice me.
“Serve, emily”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
Kneeling perfectly I lifted his cup, to my belly holding it for a second there,
before lifting it my breasts, rolling it lovingly in my cleavage. The cold metal
tankard clinking on my nipple bells. Intensely aware of his scrutiny I pressed &
rolled the cup slowly upwards causing my breasts to swell sweetly upwards to
him, then lowered my lips. & kissed the rim reverently. The liquid fizzed
violently, almost stinging my nose & eyes, it was so cold. I was not so much
thirsty, as my mouth tasted thick & sticky, it had been a very hot day & the
water bucket had been quite greasy & smelly tonight. I had performed fellatio 3
times in the hot morning & afternoon. We blondes are usually expected to scrub &
polish the stone tavern floors to perfection. & keep it that way all day until
the evening
Men seem to enjoy interrupting a slaves chores, for a cold drink & my intimate
lips. Then sending me back, to those chores, my face, breasts, hair & mouth
sticky with Masters thick pleasure. My veil sodden and plastered to my lips.
Especially for a earth blonde slaves like me.
No matter how frequently my menial routines are disrupted or for how long. I am
still expected to complete all the chores assigned to me flawlessly. Or taste
the punishment whip, a dreadful shortened bullwhip. Brutally shortened, but no
less thick, for the rear-quarters of female slaves. The leather is treated so as
not to cut the flesh or permanently visually damage flesh. The raw welting
remains subcutaneous. The rear-quarters show a vibrant pink redness, indicating
she has been beaten. Her rump feels swollen & acutely tender to the slightest
touch, or movement. Despite the stinging throbbing pain I am still expected to
perform my duties quickly & prettily. The redness often invites passing masters
to slap or lash me, for their amusement & to remind me if any further mnemonics
were required of the consequences of male dissatisfaction, with their property.
Often in an afternoon the floor girls like me, have their wrists braceleted
behind them & we must continue toiling with the implements held in our trembling
lips. Especially on the very humid days, it seems to be pleasing to watch our
drudgery over chilled beers in the hot muggy afternoons. We must still move our
bodies prettily & sensuously & it seems the exposed position is quite a good
advertisement for the evenings pleasures.
I always try to have my clitoris bell ring out prettily behind me, on such
accessions. For a couple of good reasons. In this exposed position the men find
it amusing to take the occasional passing swipe at us with the riding crop
shaped pleasure whips. Some men avoid striking at the bell going for my inner
thighs instead, however I suspect an equal amount of men aim more deliberately &
firmly between my legs at the bell.
Another deeply shaming reason is that I pathetically crave male attention & the
bell attracts their notice somewhat. Occasionally one of the men will reach down
and fondle me, then while I lick his fingers clean, pass comment on my evident
female vitality. Rather akin to commenting on a dogs glossy coat. This is
typically derisory, but shows at least his desultory sexual interest in me.
Worthless at his feet I squirm wetly & thank him profusely, thrilled & grateful
for his merest notice. However even if that is to my painful detriment, by
attracting his whip.
The randomness of the lash or non lash is totally unsettling & leaves you
feeling utterly vulnerable and traumatized by any subsequent strike of the whip.
Or the sound of the lash on another girl. Thankfully this hands free service is
only for the last few hours of the afternoon. The muggy hours when many of the
men are enjoying the siesta. Thankfully this is not every day but more often now
than not. The hotter the day the more likely we are to serve in this fashion. In
private houses & some more progressive taverns this in now the norm. our
humiliation & thus the deliciousness of our service is constantly being refined.
This is often done individually for punishment or amusement too. One girl a
brunette who had once been a Gorean free woman, purportedly quite rich &
pampered, was kept serving like this for a month at least. It is actually
impossible for us slaves to keep track of the passage of time. As we have no
female words for minutes, days, weeks months etc. So no conceptual awareness
except for the passing of morning to evening, every day similar to the last &
next. Now she generally works in the laundry area & in the early morning
polishing sandals. & she appears very humble & submissive even to the other
Gorean girls. Incidentally earth girls & especially blondes are very submissive
to our Gorean born counterparts too. She is very popular amongst the patrons now
& supposedly highly responsive, especially from the sounds of her rape screams &
sobs. Just like a blonde earth slut.
We blondes are usually expected to scrub & polish the stone tavern floors to
perfection. & keep it that way all day until the evening
The coldness of his cup almost stinging my fingers & breasts, my erect belled
nipples, chaffing through the slippery taut fabric of my apron on his cup.

How many times had I thoughtlessly drank a cold coca cola, when I had been free.
How many times had I undeservedly indulged myself when I should have been
trembling with erotic fright at a masters feet, submissively begging to please
him.
I trembled now kissing his cup. He was the Master I the slave. Devoutly &
emotionally from the burning heat in my loins I welled upwards, to my lips
kissing at the very edge of the metal rim. My whole being totally engrossed in
my desire to please him as I bowed my head deeply & lifted the vessel upwards &
outwards to him.
“Master…” My voice was throaty & hesitant
“Speak slut”
“Master, your slave emily brings you refreshment. She wishes that you will find
it invigorating & cooling. And Master emily begs you to enjoy her lips while you
drink Master.”
“Speak more candidly blondie (short for blow job blonde) slut”
“Yes Master, emily aches to feel you part her warm lips with your manhood
Master. Hopes you will enjoy her hot tongue & mouth on your stiffening crown,
while you enjoy the dancers & your drink, Master“
“More”
“emily begs you to enjoy the wet sounds from her thighs as you enjoy the wet
heat of her mouth on you Master. Begs you to throb in her mouth as she squirms
desperately at your feet. With every second & instant of your heightening
pleasure, emily’s own need & fervour to please you will intensify, to augment
your delight & sexual pleasure.”
I was literally throbbing & trembling at these words, I felt like my belly was
seeping down my thighs like jelly. I was almost incandescent with my need to
please him now.
Finally he reached down and holding the tips of my fingers around the cup pulled
me forwards, closer between his knees. Then releasing my fingers he took his
cup, leaving me over his lap. Some men don’t touch your fingers at all, just
taking the cup its all about their preferences, and your obedience to them.
I was reminded of the prostitutes & used to be able to see from my apartment.
How I used to despise them and their bimbo giggling & acquiesce to their clients
fetishes. How worthless they were & how worthless I was now. I wondered how they
would look in their plastic mini skirts, under the whip, perhaps gagged on the
feminine filth of their panties. Kissing at the mens feet, not for recompense,
but in trepidation of & adoration at their maleness. As trivial & worthless as I
was now.
He indicated his tunic. I could see his erection pressing upwards.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”


Posted by slave girl emily at 10:43 No comments:





HE IS PLEASED



“Yes Master, thank you Master.”

I lifted the tunic he was very big. Gorean men are very big, typically up to
twice the size of the earth average. Also Gorean men are thick but unusually
straight & naturally circumcised in appearance. How I loved the men here.
“Oh Master, how magnificent you are already.” I gushed
He didn’t reply, I didn’t expect him too, but immediately began kissing and
licking his shaft & glans. He tasted ever so slightly of sweat & beer. But more
of salt & seawater, the men often swim at the beach in the late afternoon.
Especially the guardsmen & soldiers of the garrison. I suspected he might be a
soldier from the sturdiness of his sandals, but this was no concern of mine
anyhow. When he was soaked & glistening I began to lick & suck softly on his
frenulum causing him to shiver. Then I wrapped my veil around his head & slowly
took him into my mouth soaking the slippery fabric to his form.
He gasped in pleasure, I was profoundly thrilled. The fabric, slave silk is so
sensuous & utterly distracting on the erogenous areas of the body. So clearly
designed only for sexual pleasure. No wonder it is the only clothing permitted
to us, clinging maddeningly at my lips, my nether lips, at my nipples, on my
curves. Fabric for one who is submissively for another pleasure, who is owned &
punished if that pleasure is not loving & totally satisfactory. With each suck &
intake of breath I took him deeper inside me, until he was fully inside. His
testicles cupped and massaged gently in my adoring fingers.



I was totally absorbed in serving him, only vaguely aware of the wetness between
my knees that seemed to have turned my upper & inner thighs into a wet sticky
mass of hot helpless need. All directed upwards into my oral service of him. I
was in a rapture of submission to pleasuring my master.
Slowly I began to suck & lift my mouth up his now throbbing shaft & then lifting
myself over his lap, while still kissing & sucking his glans, pressed my breasts
around his exposed & soaked shaft. He sighed again. I began to massage him
upwards into my mouth with the fibre & texture of my cleavage through the silk
of my apron. Above me I heard him take a gulp of his drink. His other hand
resting in my hair.
Behind me I could hear the drum beat of the dancers he was watching & feel his
body swaying slightly in time to the rhythm of the two girls. The upward motions
of my breasts were already unconsciously in harmony with his movement & my
sucking & kissing lovingly in sync downwards with my body.



He permitted me a kindness, reaching down and resting my trembling fingers on
his arms. I was soon clutching his strong arms as in between my kisses & sucking
I whimpered & moaned softly but uncontrollably.
The noise of the tavern was just a blur against the rhythm of his body & mine,
against the drums & presumably the dancers. The dancers are frequently &
violently raped in the course of an evening. But not permitted to orgasm, until
the end of the evening when they are gang raped, by whoever wishes to fuck them.
I had no idea how long I fellated him for, sometimes as long as half an hour,
sometimes even longer.
Then abruptly I felt stiffen and spasm for just an instant then swell and erupt
in my mouth. My instinctive gag reflex pulled me back, but my hair was now
firmly clenched in his hands. Some men enjoy holding you firmly all through
fellatio, some only at the point of ejaculation. I love the latter, that sudden
forceful domination not that anybody took any notice of my preferences. He
pressed himself deeply inside me, filling my mouth, gagging me, on his thick
cum. He was ramming my face with violent pelvic thrusts Then just as I thought I
might choke. He pulled himself free of my lips & spurted thick wads of his seed
all over my face, my breasts and even my belly & thighs. Then he pushed himself
back into my mouth & continued to spasm in thick bursts. I was choking now,
straining to inhale & exhale desperately through my nostrils, as they started to
fill up too. I was panicking now & rising..
Then will a final grunt of pleasure he stopped coming. He pulled out of my lips
& snapped his fingers. I dropped onto all fours at his feet, my mouth full.
Gorean men are extremely virile & come copiously. I was not permitted to swallow
without permission. He sat back, still watching the dancers while I choked in
tears at his feet.
Then he looked down “Swallow slut” he said dismissively.




Still choking & spluttering now I gulped down quickly.
“Thank you Master” I sobbed gratefully at his feet.
He passed no comment for a couple of minutes or so, still watching the dancers.
I waited, in silence.

Posted by slave girl emily at 10:42 No comments:





CLEAN ME SLAVE


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Posted by slave girl emily at 10:41 No comments:





MASTER DID EMILY PLEASE YOU?




“Master did emily please you?”
He waited for a few moments while I continued to kiss his feet.
“Your intimate service is not in need of correction emily.”
I trembled, a shiver of excitement at that word correction, even though that
correction was nearly always painful & humiliating correction. When I was a new
slave freshly bought from the auction block. The raw brand still hot & burning
in my buttock. I and the 2 other new girls. I was part of a batch of girls
bought. All blonde earth girls, although I was the only virgin, although not
after the first night. My first rape was raffled off, & then the next & next.
Hooded I pulled the tokens from the bag myself. I think twenty men that first
night. Obviously I was neither & never will be permitted to know their names or
see the face of the man & the men who first opened me.
Those first few days I and the other two girls were taken from our chores & left
waiting braceleted & hooded in an alcove. A pleasure whip trembling clutched in
each of our buttocks. We were beaten every morning. Then the master would ask us
what lessons we had learned the previous day. How we intended to correct our
techniques. How we would strive to be more pleasurable. How we should comport
ourselves. Our fears fantasies would be drawn from us & exploited. We had to be
completely frank, any hesitation or reticence was swiftly & painfully punished.
We were their property now.

We weren’t gagged while we were waiting and the other two new slaves were quite
cruel to me, calling me a keen slut & a willing whore. They would make me cry
miserably but would be just as fearfully obedient compliant when the master
arrived. I realize now that they were jealous, because I had become the tutors
favourite. Gorean men are not fair with their slaves, they choose who to enjoy,
there are no turns.
Usually the other 2 girls would be beaten first then finally me. Then while my
buttocks were still stinging he would usually enjoy my fellatio, while he
questioned all three of us. If we weren’t directly serving him we had to face
the wall. These sessions would last a couple of hours in the morning before we
were sent back to our chores. Often at the end of the session one girl would be
detained & raped. Masters found these sessions quite arousing too. Before being
sent sticky back to scrubbing the floor. Usually we are not permitted to come
during the day, obviously unless master wishes to enjoy our yielding. & more
often than not it was me who was detained. A girl fresh to her submission, or
her true submission, or fresh to her true nature, is always popular with the men
till they become bored with you & move on to another girl.

New girls including Gorean girls take a little time to blossom into bondage. At
first a girl is obedient purely out of fear. But over time her submission
becomes emotional & she feels curiously liberated by her slavery. She eventually
breaks forth into her sexuality her submission usually in a quantum leap.
Overcome with emotion she seeks out the masters & seeks to confesses her
slavery. She will be braceleted & hooded & taken to an alcove. Her confession is
sobbed in darkness. He doesn’t speak, she is not to recognise him in any way. He
will enjoy her sexually & she will for the first time yield completely to a man,
washing her self away into his pleasure. She might then be raped by the other
men in the tavern. & then left sobbing helplessly in the alcove. Sobbing in
misery and ecstasy.
Mine was very early. The morning after my first night I and the other 2 new
girls had served breakfast to the men. This was a sport on the masters part. As
earth girls are usually only given the most menial chores, typically scrubbing
floors, unless a particular masters desires our service. The sport was that any
of these men might have been my first, or the other girls first. They had not
been virgins but they had never before been subjected to multiple slave rape. We
had all been weepy but desperate to be pleasing serving the cooked breakfasts
and fetching coffee & hot bread to our despoilers.
Then later in the morning just after the customers had made their way about
their business. I had nearly fainted , as I felt myself wash away with emotion.
Terrified but unable to help myself I had crawled to where the tavern keepers
were laughing & drinking. They knew immediately what was happening but had made
me beg to confess. I had been hooded taken to an alcove & left locked in the
stocks. I was so bewildered & lost I had sobbed & sobbed waiting until a master
returned to the room. He had the other 2 new slaves with him. To my horror they
knelt facing the wall hooded also but listening to my sobbing admission. My
inferiority my utter desire to be pleasing, to be a perfect slave, to be truly
feminine under male domination. & then my screaming sobbing orgasm as I was
raped. The other tavern keepers had then raped me, while I was still confined in
the stocks. Then I and the other two girls had been left. I was sobbing &
moaning uncontrollable. The two girls weren’t sympathetic, they had been
scandalised & were cruelly scornful. I didn’t care, all I wanted was to kneel at
another mans feet & give him pleasure.
After a short while they were taken away back to their chores. I had been
dildoed front & rear, held in place by thick straps and similarly dildo gagged &
left again. The next few days I would work stuffed like this. I had been renamed
‘lily’ my first name removed & renamed to ‘candi’.
But nearly every morning we were taken to training & I was chosen to please him.
One morning he had decided that the other two girls were to fellate him
together. I had sobbed enough to annoy him & was punishment whipped. Another
morning one of the other two had been punished the night before. She was
informed that she would be punishment whipped again that evening. & that all 3
of us would not be permitted to toilet for 3 days.
Girls are regularly disciplined by toilet denial. Subject to punishment,
training, humiliation totally on the whim of the masters. Often the girl will
only be told just before her turn on the bucket. Instructed to remove herself
from the queue & kneel facing the wall. Sobbing with humiliation & discomfort.
Typically she wont be informed why leaving her uncertain & fearful, and eager to
be pleasing again.
It has been found that we can be denied toileting for nearly a month without
causing any physical damage. Apart from her extreme discomfort & distress. Girls
about to go on the auction block are typically denied toileting for 2 weeks to
better facilitate their display & sale squirming vulnerable in our discomfort.
Desperately eager to be pleasing as we are fondled, probed and assessed.
Sobbing I had told Master that I hadn’t been able to toilet for the last two
evenings. Having been serving intimately at the allotted time. I was then icily
told that I too would be punishment whipped that evening, but would receive
double the punishment of the other girl. He had asked me why, I answered
correctly because I had demurred. He also told me that he hadn’t intended to
include me in the toilet punishment, being aware I was frequently being used at
toilet & cleaning time, but now because of my temerity I now would be. I had
sobbed & thanked him for his strictness, thanked him truly from my slave heart.
Nonetheless I had loved this period & these sessions, they were so exciting.
Even the whipping, to be the recipient of male attention, no matter how
punitive. I had been so new and lost to my submission then. Foolishly I had
thought this would peak & fade. But now I know that with every day I feel more
helpless & submissive, anxious to be loving & pleasing, vulnerable to the men my
masters. Lost to my emotions on my knees before my natural superiors & rightful
owners, under his domination.
I was almost in tears, with submissive gratitude now.
“Thank you Master, emily thanks you Master, for choosing her & enjoying her
Master”
“Continue kissing my feet slave” He told me.
“Yes Master, thank you Master”
I was almost choking in floods of tears now. Desperately cling to every last
second with him. I often pity a mans private slaves. Waiting night after night
locked in his seraglio (animal cage), to be chosen by him, if he is at home at
all. How fraught they must be for their Masters touch. However it is said that
tavern girls are equally hopelessly forlorn, & left utterly desolated by our
constant use & dismissal. In earth girls the repression of our sexual
submissiveness, the self denial that we truly are and truly want to be for mens
pleasure, in particular leaves us emotionally sullied & abused, then vulnerable
and utterly miserable & alone by each rape & rejection of dismissal. However
that is also part of the pleasure in keeping earth girls. As the Gorean saying
goes, one hasn’t seen a beautiful women until you have seen her in tears at your
feet with need.
“emily would you like to kneel at my feet & watch the dancers?”
Me know only too well our sexual nature & the shameful obsessions of slavegirls.
We are erotically thrilled & fascinated by the sensuous bodies of females like
ourselves dancing & gyrating our curves in helpless sexual bondage. How I loved
to watch the dancing for the men, & how I loved to dance for the men
“Oh yes please Master, emily would love to watch the dancers with you Master”
He left me gushing and bubbling with excitement at his feet for a few seconds
then curtly snapped his fingers. I was to kneel facing the wall.
Disappointed but hurriedly & in tears I obeyed. What brutes the men are
sometimes. How wonderful they are.
“Then it especially pleases me to deny you, a share in the enjoyment of their
allure girl.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master”
“Bracelets”
“Yes Master”
I put my wrists together behind my back. They were expertly snapped in cold
steel but pretty slave manacles. As were my ankles. The only difference between
ankle & wrist bracelets apart from the shape & diameter of the shackle, is that
ankle bracelets have a bell incorporated into the solo central link, instead of
the small heart shaped padlock link.
“Master?”
“Yes girl?”
“Thank you for being so strict with emily, Master”
I heard him tap the blade of the pleasure whip on the side of his chair.
“Do not worry girl, you have barely tasted the strictness with which I intend to
enjoy your obedience & intimate service, slut.”
I was frightened now.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
“Be silent now slut.”
Trembling facing the, & pressed to the wall, silently I whispered to myself, &
my Master, a vulnerable & fearful ‘thank you Master’. My loins & belly were
ablaze & melting now with sex & fear. I squirmed quietly, squidging in my own
damp funk.
Behind me he stopped another girl & sent her to fetch him another cold beer.
Then he turned his attention back to the dancers.
I waited.
What wonderful brutes the men are.
How I loved them.


Posted by slave girl emily at 10:40 No comments:





WAITING FOR HIM



My veil was plastered to my lips, as were my erect belled nipples clinging
stickily to my thin apron. Stuck & sticky with his pleasure. All I could smell
was his pleasure & my hot need. I kept my eyes closed as was proper for a slave
kneeling to the wall. Unless explicitly instructed or permitted a woman is
proscribed everything. Nothing is hers. When she is not in under male
instruction she should be unobtrusive, quiet, still, her eyes closed. Her
thoughts should be of how best to please her master or her next master. We are
instructed to concentrate in minute detail on a particular detail in every
aspect of service. Whether this is kissing his feet, plumping her lips for
fellatio, opening her thighs to him, or kissing his cup. But to concentrate on
just one instant of service, like the first lick or kiss of the frenulum & how
to improve that for his pleasure. A girl must also be ever thankful to be
permitted to serve the men. Grateful to be fed & watered, for each breath she is
permitted by her owners. Thankful to be owned.
We also have simple mantras to repeat to ourselves. Such as;



I am a slave
I am owned by men
I love being a slave
I love being owned by men

I am for Masters pleasure
I love being for Masters pleasure
I love Masters pleasure
I love being Masters slave

If Master is not pleased I will be punished
If Master is not pleased I should be punished
If Master is not pleased I want to be punished
I love Master punishment

I love Master
I obey Master
I fear Master
I love Master

He is a man
He is free
He is a person
I am not, I am a slave girl, He owns me

I love Master
I am tears after His touch
I am in tears at dismissal
I love Master

We are to repeat these & similar simplistic feminine homilies to ourselves,
filling our thoughts with gratitude to our owners toleration of us. This is
especially helpful for earth girls like me, in purging the improper thoughts &
desires from our former lives. Our feeble & inferior musings & emotions should
have a sole purpose, obedience to male pleasure.


Behind me I heard Master order another girl to fetch him more beer. Then male
voices. I am unable to understand male speech as the language is segregated into
superior & inferior vocabularies. There is male speech, male to female speech,
female to male speech & female to female speech. The discourse between master &
slave is quite curt, dismissive, instructive, to her inferiority. Her replies
respectful & submissive infused with feminine trepidation, & her anxiety to
please him. A limited emotional submissive lexis. Lacking in all abstract &
intellectual concepts except the most menial & sexual notions. Belying her
status always in the 3rd person, denying her personhood. Speech between
slavegirl & slavegirl, when & rarely permitted, quietly giddy, gushing with
emotion. Scandalised, slightly giggly & coloured with a deep sense of
inferiority & shame, self consciously aware that you are female in an utterly
male dominated society. But also jealously wanton & needful, severely critical
of any lacking in her behaviour.
Indeed most private households have a first girl who is responsible for the
discipline of the other slaves. And as such she is very strict & harsh with her
charges. Quick to whip for even the slightest imagined failings. Finding severe
fault with many things below male notice. She is given a quirt a thin springy
cane like whip to cajole her charges with. She will use it with the expertise of
one who has felt its sting herself. Inflicting stinging lashes on the most
tender part of the backs of the legs or between the legs. Fearful herself that
any failings in chores that attracts punishment from her Master, she will also
receive the same punishment & her place as first girl. The position is
frequently rotated in any case. & she then will find her fellow slaves less than
forgiving. The men find this quite amusing & useful in disciplinary terms.
Naturally this rotation doesn’t include earth girls. We are considered worthless
& inferior even in comparison with Gorean slave girls. As such we are very
strictly disciplined & harshly punished. By both the Master & the first girl.
Often her painful attentions tinged with a mixture of disdain & jealousy towards
the ‘blonde blow job slut’. Earth girls having been formerly & improperly free
are considered to be in need of strict & painful discipline. Both in terms of
punishment for any improper liberties they may have taken advantage of, & also
to correct their behaviours. There is also the added pleasure of disciplining a
beautiful woman, in seeing her crying at your feet. I might add that although we
are frightened of and abhor the whip, we also love our masters uncompromising
strictness.
The former first girl will find herself treated akin to an earth girl by the new
whip hand, to her chagrin. But we can take no satisfaction in that as soon
enough she might be first girl again.
Peasant girls make excellent & demanding first girls. Often when they are
brought from the farmlands to the slave markets in large droves. A couple of
girls will be trusted & selected as herders to drive the girls along with whips,
mainly on their experience with other domestic animals. These herds of peasant
girls are often not hooded or bound but just driven along like cattle. Unlike
earth girls who are hooded & heavily constrained or city girls who are similarly
physically restrained.



There was male laughter, then footsteps towards me & a leather hood was pulled
roughly over my head. It was tight & clammy, slimy with cum from previous
occupants. He buckled it under my chin then jerked me to my feet with the
attached leash. The leash is quite long but I was held bent over at my waist, my
head just below his belt. With the other end of the leash he struck me between
the legs. Stung I yelped with pain & impotent pique.
They laughed again.
I sobbed with humiliation yet how I loved to be so powerless with such men.
Another stinging lash.
“Come along slut.” I was yanked forwards
Nearly being pulled off my feet, I yelped again in pain & alarm, in the darkness
of the hood.
More laughter as I was pulled blindly through the tavern. Pushed & slapped aside
by the men in the busy tavern. The whisper of submissive respect to the leash
master, & the warm flesh of other serving girls hurriedly sliding past me,
anxious not to keep their own masters waiting. My handler though in no
particular hurry, harried me along with random lashes. Then he stopped to chat
to another master for a few minutes, sill holding me uncomfortably bent over.
The other master must have also been leading a slavegirl as she was handed over
to my charge & the two of us were held pinioned below his belt. The two men
chatted idly for five minutes or so, before parting & then were both dragged
away to the alcoves. I was pushed to my knees & left I can only assume outside
an alcove. As the other girl was led inside. There were terse words I couldn’t
make out the words but the tone was harsh & then a loud slap & sob. I was
dragged forward & then pushed me through the heavy leather curtain of an alcove.
He pushed me to my knees & pressed me into the low wooden stocks. My hooded face
pressed to the floor, he hooked my ankle chain to the stocks so that my knees
were pressed up against the board. My labial lips & anus vulnerable exposed
tilted upwards.


The alcove already stank of sex, at least one girl had already been raped in
here, but at a guess I would reckon at least 2. The thin leather rape mat under
my shins was already quite unpleasantly clammy & sticky.
He put his fingers between my legs teasing out the bell attached to my clitoris.
Flicking his finger pinging it, his finger caught the erect tissue stinging it.
I whimpered, he flicked it again, catching the ring holding the bell. I yelped
my eyes stinging with tears. In some taverns the girls have a small coin
attached on the same ring, identifying the tavern. Although not the intended
purpose, quite often the master will rip the coin from between her legs after he
has finished with her. & although this doesn’t rip the tissue it feels like it
is & is very painful. Thankfully not in this tavern but soon it was to be
introduced.
“What a little slut you are emily”
“Yes Master, emily is a slut Master.”
“Perhaps I should rape you, emily & leave you holding the punishment whip ready
for your Master to arrive”
If a girl left in the alcoves, waiting for her Master is raped before he
arrives, she is punished. She is seen as being more desperate to satisfy her own
needs, thus her smell & the wet sounds of her squidging thighs invited her rape
by a passing master. Rather than more properly the smell of her slave heat & wet
squirming thighs waiting to please the Master who had sent her to the alcoves.
If a passing master is tempted to rape her, he will leave the punishment whip
clutched in her trembling fearful buttocks waiting for her use master to arrive.
Often he will beat her himself after her rape, or before & after. This is quite
a pleasurable game for them. Slipping into the alcoves & raping us, often not
saying anything to us & if not gagging us, not permitting us to speak. Then
leaving us sobbing in misery waiting for the punishment whip.
Frequently they will enter an alcove quietly & observe us. Most masters are very
good at this most having military experience. We only know they are there
because we can hear their breathing. Often we imagine they are there when they
aren’t, or have already slipped out of the alcove as silently as they entered.
Sometimes they might finger us, testing our wetness then leave with a dismissive
tsk. The sound is quite difficult to describe but indicates contempt for the
filth of a slavegirl. Or a slap. For this reason we usually are not gagged in
the alcoves while we wait. So we sob & beg at each imagined or not imagined
presence.
“Master are you there?”
To be met with silence, or a simple
“Be silent slut!”
Or the gag.


The tight leather hoods are hand polished & buffed to be patent leather like in
feel and appearance, on both the interior & exterior. They have no openings or
vents but you can just about breathe through the leather. Buckled under the chin
they come in two colours black & rape red, a bright vibrant, racing red or
blood, like scarlet. Some taverns have a range different colours, but generally
it is discipline black or pleasure red. The leather rape mats are all red too as
are the leather alcove curtains. There are a couple of alcoves outfitted in
black, these are larger alcoves usually used for punishment or gang rape,
typically of the dancing slaves at the end of the evening.
We are instructed to close our eyes before being hooded so are not permitted to
know what colour the hood is. If you see a girl being led away in the black
hood, you might reasonably assume she is to be at the very least pleasure
whipped & possibly raped. A red hood might signify just her rape, or a light
whipping, or neither it simply depends on the masters will.
The evening before yesterday I was sent hooded to the stocks and shortly
afterwards another slave was sent to join me. She is confined in the stocks next
to me, our soft bodies pressed together. Sobbing convulsively with fright, I
finally manage to calm down enough to ask her.
“Slave can you see what colour this ones hood is?”
An equally fearful response
“This girl is hooded too.”
“What colour is your hood?”
Sobbing “This girl doesn’t know.”
Both of us crying anxiously now
“This girl hope your hood is red.”
“This girl hope your hood is red too slave.”
The curtain opens and a Master enters,.
“Master have you come to punish us, Master?”
He doesn’t speak, we need no further prompting and both fall silent.
I feel him behind me a small dildo like device is pushed into my vagina. The
pecker gag is already very slimy & difficult to hold. I hear him insert one into
her. The curtain closes again but neither of us dares utter a word. A few tense
minutes pass & I hear him take the dildo device from her. My hood is opened
partially & the slimy device is pushed into my mouth, filling it. He buckles it
tightly closed & then closes the hood. He gags her similarly with mine.
“That sounds better.” He says curtly “Doesn’t it slaves?”
Heavily gagged our muffled reply is barely audible & completely unintelligible.
“Much better!”
Standing again we both sense him go to the whip rack. The sharp terrible crack
of the punishment whip in mid air then a single powerful blow simultaneously
across the backs of legs, in the tender crease that joins buttock to thigh. I
hear her muffled squeal of pain through her gag as she hears mine. The
involuntary exclamation of pain seems to drive the gag deeper into my mouth, the
head of the phallus pressing against the back of my throat. Increasing the
helpless choking sensation.Our tender bottoms now burning & stinging with fire.
The whip is hung between us, its thick brutal blade hangs in the cleavage like
join of our buttocks. He leaves again closing the curtain & we wait sobbing now
in pain & fear. Both of us hoping that he will not whip us again, or that the
other will be whipped & not her, or that at least her whipping might be more
lenient than the others. & both of us knowing that he will do as he pleases &
most likely we will both be beaten.
We both are whipped & horribly, then he anally rapes her while I hold the whip
in my smarting burning buttocks, clenched fearfully despite the subcutaneous
bruising, lest I drop it & merit another whipping. I hear her coming loudly even
through her gag & him grunting with pleasure. She cleans him while I wait
fearfully in the stocks.
When she has finished cleaning him the tavern is nearly closing & the dancers
are being removed from the cages. They are all pushed into the alcove 4 girls &
me we are chained together, all hooded. I seem to be the only one gagged I guess
from the frightened voices of the other girls. The whip is taken from me & all
five of us are lashed liberally while the other men laugh drunkenly.
Then the raping starts. Roughly slapped & penetrated over & over again, still
crying in helpless orgasm as the next master violates us. The other girl kneels
to one side ready to clean the men with her tongue & fetch them drinks. We are
raped about twenty times, before the men are satisfied. Exhausted we are pushed
soiled & sticky into the holding cage with the other slaves. Soiled & sticky,
bruised , crying still in multiple orgasm.
But that was just another night.
He asked the question again
“Perhaps I should rape you, emily & leave you holding the punishment whip ready
for your Master to arrive, would you like me to rape you emily”
“Please Master, emily only wishes to be pleasing.”
“Beg me to rape you girl.”
“Master emily begs your touch, begs for you to enjoy her pleasures Master.”
“You want to feel me inside your wet little hole do you slave.”
“Yes Master, emily aches to hold you in her slave heat & please you.”
“Even if that means you will be whipped slave?”
“Yes Master emily begs your rape.”
I was almost beside myself with helpless desire to please him now
“I can smell your heat slave”
“Yes Master, please rape emily Master.”
“I can hear the juice of your thighs inviting me slave.”
“Please Master…”
He pressed his fingers between my labial lips spreading them & soaking his
finger & my thighs.
“I can feel your slave filth emily”
“Please Master, please rape emily.”
He wiped his wet palm on my outer thigh. Then slapped me hard between the legs
on my spread lips. I cried out in sudden startled pain. Then another slap across
my bottom. He wiped his hand once again.
“Slut!”
“Yes Master.” I sobbed
“Stew & simmer well for your Master.”
“Yes Master.”
“He will be along shortly.”
“Or perhaps another Master will smell your heat, & rape you.”
“Yes Master.” I was crying.
This time another untranslatable derogatory Gorean sound rather than word.
Roughly translated as filthy little cunt, but much more pejorative.
I heard the curtain close.
I sobbed captive in the darkness of my hood.
My sticky veil sodden with his pleasure was plastered across my lips inside the
hood, causing each breath to catch, making me gasp & pant in the tight leather
hood.
I was so wet & slick now, that I could barely move my thighs without an
accompaniment of humiliating slippery sounds. Quite literally lathered & coated
in my slave heat & the stale warm odour of sex in the alcove.
The alcoves are not very well ventilated. Although they have vents that can be
opened for when the Master wishes to sleep overnight during the evening the
vents are kept closed. The men seem to enjoy raping us in the sticky heat, in
the smell of our excitement. After all they are cleaned afterwards.
There is a tiled bathing room where two girls wait to clean & dry masters with
warm scented water & cooling balms. This like being in the kitchens in the
evenings is not a popular chore, fortunately the rota rarely includes earth
girls. If a girl is selected for these chores she strives her utmost to be
sexually pleasing, & so not be stuck there again in the near future.
We are not so pampered. We are just instructed to reverse our veils & aprons,
licking them clean of any exterior excess signs of rape. This has the effect of
pushing any moist use inwards making the silk very clammy & even more slippery,
clinging with trashy allure to our curves, catching attractively on taut exited
nipples. We are liberally sprayed almost doused with cheap perfume, & sent back
to the serving area.
I thought I could hear the curtain opening & then someone behind me, or so I
thought.
“Master is that you?”
Silence
“Master…?”
Then the sound of the curtains closing opening , or was it just my imagination.
I was almost frantic, my imagination running wild.
So desperate not to taste the punishment whip. It is so, so horrid, your legs &
bottom smart horribly for days. The thick brutal bullwhip feels like it is
cutting bluntly through your flesh to your very bones. It only leaves the
surface pink & puffy, deeply reddened for a couple of hours. But underneath the
weal’s chafe excruciatingly for much longer, especially at the junctures where
the lashes have crisscrossed. One lash is enough to reduce even the most defiant
new slave inducing her to complete & terrified obedience. A girl feels herself
outrageously fortunate if her master is lenient enough to limit her punishment
to 20 lashes. There is simply barely a comparison in terms of pain at the point
of contact between leather & flesh. Possibly the moment when the white hot
branding iron first touches your skin, vaporising the skin & your independent
personhood. Or the moment when the almost boiling transport enema is inserted
into your anus, scarcely avoiding scalding your anal passage.
In fact the men rarely enter the alcoves unless they intend to rape you, or are
seriously considering raping you. But masters will deliberately slap or rustle
the curtain as they pass, sometimes poising to enjoy the cries of sexual fear
from within the alcove. & possibly being tempted to enter & rape the slut who’s
cries appeal to them.
But mostly it was simply my fervid fearful imagination.
In some of the other alcoves I could hear girls being used, the cries of
helpless pleasure at his touch, the happy sounds of his satisfaction. Often a
manly roar of joy as he comes. While I waited & waited, each second like an hour
in the hood.
In one of the other alcoves a girl was being whipped with the pleasure whip. The
short riding crop the most common of the pleasure whips. So named not for her
pleasure but the urgency it gives her desire to be pleasing to him. Stinging
with tender pain, fearful of a repeat, or worse beating, we are so anxious to
please. I recognised her voice, she had been named adele, just after I had been
renamed from adele to emily. She was also a hot blonde & from earth. I had often
served with her, when a master wants a twosome. We both have the very light
golden blonde hair, that is relatively rare on Gorean girls. More common is the
white Scandinavian blondeness, or a whiteness that looks like peroxide blonde
but is natural here. Our blondeness is sought in the import market, although
many brunettes & other hair colours also fall hapless victim to the slavers. I
was often jealous of her and she of me, & often filled with shameful sapphic
feelings for her. She was whimpering fearfully and sobbing at each lash. At a
guess I would say she was still in the darkness of her hood. & probably standing
her wrist manacles attached to her ankles to better facilitate the application
of the crop pleasure whip. I couldn’t make out her masters questions or her half
moaned whimpered replies. But from tone his enjoyment at her distress at her
preparation was obvious. I was glad & jealous too. & even more so when I heard
her beating stop & a loud squelch and moan of need as he entered her.
Oh Master, please come soon.
Sometimes they leave you for over an hour, sometimes they lose interest in your
rape & you are sent back to wait in the serving cage.
In the darkness of my hood I hoped he would come & wondered how he rigorously
intended to apply the “strictness with which” he intended to enjoy my “obedience
& intimate service”
There are a few varieties of pleasure whip.
Would he be as strict as adele’s master, secretly I hoped so. The men know &
enjoy exploiting this shame. Or would he be stricter. How in awe of them I was &
how wonderfully powerless & vulnerable to their lusts.
I waited listening to other slaves in ecstasy at their surrender. & the phantoms
of my imagination.
I waited my body trembling & quivering prettily captive in the stock.

Posted by slave girl emily at 10:39 No comments:



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THIS SLAVEGIRL BEGS TO PLEASE YOU

Welcome to my or ‘this girls’ intimate vulnerable fantasies.
Please sit down & let this girl fetch you a refreshing drink, & possibly kneel
between your knees & serve you intimately while you read.
Always for your pleasure Masters, Mistresses & sisters.

emily would love to read your comments




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 * ▼  2009 (14)
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     * This girl begs to please you Master
     * A slave is supposed to object to her bondage
     * A loving girl for your pleasure & service Master
     * He is pleased
     * Clean me slave
     * Master did emily please you?
     * Waiting for Him
     * Civilization reborn
     * Waiting for Master in the stocks
     * Capture
     * Raped in the stocks
     * In the alcove with my Master
     * A hot wet night in slave bracelets
     * Another wonderful day to be free




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