Message-ID: <14731eli$9808281526@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14731.txt> From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson) Subject: Under Control part eight of twenty eight Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <35e17a7a.20196473@news.ip.pt> Under Control - part eight of twenty eight by mailto: VictorBruno@mschristine.com this story remains copyright Victor Bruno, release to publish granted to Christine Stevenson. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THE TWELVE RED hot wires encircled his rump . . . throbbing, throbbing, throbbing . . . as Paul stood erect by the hurdle. It was an all too familiar sensation, with the skin over the area seeming to have shrunk by several inches. There was a mist of tears in Paul's eyes, of which he was ashamed but could do nothing about, and through which he could see the smug little smile of content of Delia's face. She was tapping the supple rod against one scarlet boot and giving the impression she would have liked nothing better than to have given her naked victim another dozen. Now she appreciated even more the joy of having a male slave! Karen could not stand after such a cruel thrashing. She had fainted, been given an injection to revive her, but still seemed too weak to get to her feet. Great sobbing groans came from her every few seconds. "She can go back to her cell," said Miss Mandy. "You," she went on, pointing at Paul, "will carry her." Paul was startled, but not slow to obey the order. He bent, gasping as he felt the fierce stab of his fresh weals. Karen gasped too, and tried to recoil, as he clasped and picked up her slumped naked body. Despite the pain he was enduring, Paul felt a wave of pleasure-lust go through him as he felt her lush soft nakedness against him - at last. He heaved her up in a kind of fireman's lift and she hung like a sack over his shoulder, breasts crushed against his back. Then he thrust an arm between her thighs and clasped one of them. "I want him back again," said Miss Mandy as he moved towards the double doors with his burden. "Sure thing," replied Delia, who was acting as escort. The doors swung open and Delia, hip-swivelling, moved ahead of him, still carrying the cane with which she had so mercilessly thrashed him. Eyes fastening on Delia's superb body, Paul's lust intensified. I'd like to fuck the arse off you, he thought as he watched the roll of her buttocks and the swing of her hips. His hand moved up Karen's thigh until the back of it was pressing to her most softly-intimate woman flesh. Still gasping and groaning, she wriggled to evade him . . . but had no means of doing so. You lovely little beauty, he thought hotly, I'd like to do a lot more to you than just touch you and feel you naked against me! Inevitably, the reaction came and, before he was halfway down the stairs, Paul was half in erection. By the time he reached the cells, he was fully so and his organ, stiff and solid, was swinging ramrod-like before him. Delia observed it without comment, but with an obvious sneer of distaste, while she re-shackled Karen on her plank-bed. The girl was still semi-conscious. "You filthy beast . . . get out!" Delia ordered, when her task was completed. Paul realised he was in trouble, for Delia, like Gloria, obviously loathed signs of male arousal. "I . . . I . . . beg pardon, Miss," said Paul meekly. He received two more vicious, slashing cuts from the rod as he moved to the door and they almost drove him to his knees so intense was the pain. "Just you wait till Miss Mandy hears about this!" rasped Delia. And, in fear and trembling, Paul followed the long-limbed blonde beauty back to the Punishment Room. By the time he reached it, his erection had virtually subsided so intense was his fear. Delia reported the incident at once and Miss Mandy nodded in a matter-of-fact way. "Miss van Meer warned me about him, so I'd expected it," she said. "That's what this is for . . . ." She pointed to a framework of steel set upon four small castor wheels. Ilse was grinning broadly. "What on earth's that?" asked Delia. "You'll see," replied Miss Mandy. "By courtesy of the young ladies, he's going for a ride." She pointed to the two girls who had been undergoing the discipline of Saddle Strap and who were now standing meekly just in front of the framework, each with a look of anguish in her eyes. "Get on to it," ordered Miss Mandy. Paul stepped on to the platform of the framework . . . and was ordered to kneel. He knelt, the sweat of terror beading his body. It was terror of the unknown. What were these women going to do to him? Whatever it was, he had no means of stopping them. He was a slave . . . and powerless. At once, Ilse and Miss Mandy pulled his thighs stretchingly wide apart and fastened them with straps to the side of the framework. Next his arms were pulled behind him and fastened painfully tight at wrists and elbows. He was shuddering. Like that, the sheer vulnerability of his manhood was obvious. As a male it was awful to wonder just what they might have in mind. It was emphasised when Miss Mandy seized him by the prick with her right hand and clasped his balls with her left. "N-No . . . n-no . . . please no . . ." he whimpered. "Right," said Miss Mandy coldly, "now you'll see what I've got in mind for you to cool your ardour, you randy bastard!" "I . . . I . . . couldn't h-help it . . ." pleaded Paul. He got a sweeping, smashing backhander from Miss Mandy across the mouth. "Silence, you hideous ape!" she bellowed. "Your being brought here has given me enough trouble, don't make it worse!" Paul whimpered into silence, tasting the blood from his lips. Oh God, what were they going to do? Then suddenly he knew. For Miss Mandy produced a length of something that looked like piano wire, noosed at the end. She slipped that noose over his organ and scrotum and then tightened it cruelly. Paul screamed. It was a primeval scream because, for a moment, he felt he was about to lose his manhood for ever. Sliced off by the wire. Like no more than a piece of cheese! But Miss Mandy meant nothing quite so drastic. She just meant it to hurt. And hurt plenty. Then she ran out the wire and fastened it to the two slave girls who stood side by side. Yes . . . it was then that Paul knew. He knew he was to be pulled around and around that dreadful room by his own genitalia! "Move!" ordered Miss Mandy . . . and Ilse slashed the horsewhip across the quivering female flesh. With the obligatory high-stepping action the girls moved off. The wire tautened, cutting and pulling just where Paul was most sensitive. And because the steel frame with his body upon it was heavy, that cutting and pulling was all the more severe. He cried out pitifully . . . but above that cry he heard Delia laugh with sadistic glee. "What a wonderful idea!" she said. "Isn't it . . ." agreed Miss Mandy. "The perfect correction . . ." added Ilse. Paul gasped and groaned as the mobile framework trundled on, jerking from time to time on account of the unsteady gait of the girls who pulled . . . which in turn imparted an unsmooth passage to the framework. Chest heaving, near to weeping, he endured the awful cutting pain. And in that moment, Paul recalled that the slave girls had been set two hours of Saddle Strap. That meant that over an hour and a half of this excruciating torment lay ahead of him. "M-Mercy . . . m-mercy . . . ." he gasped as the first circuit was completed. "For God's sake have mercy!" But, by then, not only Delia was laughing. So were Ilse and Miss Mandy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This story is being released as an illustrated web book, for details of Victor Bruno Books available please contact VictorBruno@MsChristine.com http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html Also published as text simultaneously on...... ------------------------------------------------------ The DOMestic mailing list is free of charge. Subscribe in subject line:- DOMestic@Ms-Christine.com Moderated by David & Christine Stevenson. Subscribe online at http://www.mschristine.com/domestic.html ------------------------------------------------------ Under Control by Victor Bruno this story remains copyright Victor Bruno, release to publish granted to Christine Stevenson. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>