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From: Art_Fish@hotmail.com (Dr. Fish)
Subject: REPOSTS  (I am not the author); - KARAB.TXT [01/01]
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From: asparrow@cs.umr.edu (Angel)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Repost: Story: Karab

Angel here.
This is quite possibly the most requested piece
of writing I ever put out on the net.  That surprised
me, since I grossed out several times while writing it,
and it is seriously toned down from the original version.

BTW: averti, love, you don't happen to have a deep violet
paddle about 1' in diameter do you?

My dreams are getting s
strange again.  Sorry folks.  The wires are crossed, and
I woiuld appreciate Elf!! taking the damn centaurs off my hands.
********
Disclaimer: the following is nonconsensual, but willing.  A
piece of property has no consent to give.  Het, MD/FS, sone
bestiality, lots of brutality, analingus, anal sex and medieval
dildos.
*****
Copyright 1989, Darren Bloomquist and Michael Raleigh.  All rights reserved.
******
Karab looked down at the slave girl kneeling before him.  She knelt
straight with her knees wide apart and her head bowed.  He liked
this one.  She was tall and strong and mastering her made him feel
as if he was bigger than she was.  In actuality, Karab barely
topped five and a half feet, in addition to being heavy.  His silk
robes were tailored to hide his weight, but usually they only
succeeded in making him look fatter.  The rings he wore, mostly for
magical protection, and the heavy perfumed oil he used in his hair
and thin beard made him seem effeminate at first glance.  But, as
Rhea and a very few others now living could attest, his mind was
steel hidden beneath the perfume and silk.

Right now, as she knelt before him, Rhea wondered what the mind was
plotting.  Karab was cruel for the sake of cruelty.  She usually
managed to endure his attentions during the New Year celebration,
and her master's birthday celebration.  The ruler of Pergamum
visited only seldom, finding the delights of Dark Hold shabby
compared to those of his home city.

"You evaded me last night, slave," Karab said.  Rhea found his high
pitched nasal voice annoying but managed to keep from flinching.
She did not object to men whose voices fell naturally in the higher
range, Snow Wolf's had been almost as high as hers, which was low
for a woman's, but she found the affectation grating.  "I'm afraid
that means I will have to punish you tonight, my dear.  Don't
worry, I have your master's full permission to do as I see fit.
Lie down by the three rings in the floor."

The guest room in the guard tower was not as opulant as the suites,
and had far more restraint devices, since it was sometimes used as
a spare cell when the dungeon was full.  The rings were spaced
about four feet apart and set into the stone floor.  Rhea hastened
to obey, hoping he would be merciful.

Karab, after some rummaging in the wardrobe, and in a chest he had
brought, proceded to chain her wrists to the ring above her head.
He threaded a choke-leash about her throat, above the collar and
drew it tight.  Rhea coughed and tried to catch her breath.  He
gagged her with a wadded strip of cloth held in by a second.  He
took a pole, set with a manacle at each end, and, threading it
through the lowest ring, pulled her down to lock her ankles in the
irons.  Rhea blessed her father for giving her an almost six foot
height.  Wrapping another chain around her body, he threaded it
through the ring near her back, holding her almost immobile.

Placing the keys tantalizingly out her reach, he reached back into
the trunk and removed a glass jar, holding a large toad.  Rhea's
eyes grew large as he moved between her wide-spread legs.

"You don't like my pet?" Karab asked in mock-hurt tones.  His
comically sad face twisted into a sadistic leer.  "Perhaps the two
of you should get acquainted, while I'm at the dinner."  He removed
the squirming creature from its jar and forced it into the helpless
slave girl.  Rhea felt the acid burn a track up her throat, but,
unable to spew it out, she was forced to swallow hard.  Wrapping
another piece of cloth tightly around her legs and hips, preventing
the toad's escape, he left.   "I will return in a few hours slave
girl.  Be prepared to serve my pleasure."

Rhea lay on the floor in torment.  The chains were too tight, and
she knew she would bruise.  The loathsome feeling of the animal
fighting in the cramped space made her ill.  The only worse
sensation was feeling it grow weaker and weaker until it quit
moving.  She knew it had suffocated.  The feeling of lying chained
on her back, with a dead toad inside of her was repulsive and she
put the thought from her mind.

Distracting herself, she thought back a few weeks to the first
night her master had summoned her after her punishment.  It had
been glorious, and she remembered how much she had loved him.  He
had trusted her enough to allow her to perform slightly dangerous
intimate actions upon his body, and now he had loaned her to a
jaded pervert from Pergamum.  She saw the wisdom of his action,
realizing that she was the only one who had the stomach for this
kind of treatment.  Even now, in her docile state, Chandra would
not have taken it.  None of the others could satisfy this man
unscathed.  There was little Karab could do that she had not
already survived.  The Satyr's Delight in Diebe had taught her
endurance and the Chained Collar in Ellanya had given her the high
pain threshold.

Lost in her musing on the past, Rhea was startled to see Karab
returning.  She had vauguely heard the night bell sound two times
since he left, but was surprised to see him back so soon.

"No, my dear, dinner is not over," he tittered.  It was an obscene
sound coming from a man so large.  "I merely wished to see how well
acquainted you two were.  I excused myself from listening to the
singer."  He unwrapped the cloth from her hips and placed a fat
ringed hand inside of her.  Her body, not meant for such abuse,
complained and tears began down her cheeks.

"There we are."  He pulled the amphibious corpse out of her.  She
visibly relaxed, but was overcome with the urge to retch again.
"Wretched girl, you've killed him!" Karab shrieked.  "That will
have to be punished.  But, I am feeling lenient.  I will give you
some pleasure before the pain begins."  He rummaged in his trunk
and came up with an oddly shaped iron rod.   When he brought it
closer, she could see that it was indeed iron, formed into the
shape of a phallus, but one that was cleft in the middle as a
snake's tongue.  Each side was formed complete, with its own head.
She looked puzzled and frightened.

"I thought by now you would be accustomed to this shape.  You
frequent the bed of a demon, is that not true?"  Without waiting
for an answer, he continued.  "Is not your master formed like this,
even to the iron?"  He ignored the frantic shaking of her head.
"Every noble in the Empire knows our good Emperor is from the lower
planes, either a minion, or perhaps the Destroyer himself, taken
mortal guise.  It is said the Lord Vendan walked Ellassa in human
form once long ago.  The stars have lately indicated a massive
supernatural upheaval and the balance sways into darkness.  He has
returned, has He not?  And you, lucky slave, are His favorite."
Rhea shook her head frantically, wishing he would remove the gag.
The iron did not look painful, but she would not hear her master
slandered.

Continuing to ignore her, Karab finished his lecture on demonology
and proceded to thrust the iron rod into her.  It was cold and
painful, but she had endured larger, since it was probably modeled
on Karab's own, which was small-average, and worse.  She could
tolerate this.

"That will be there when I return, or you will suffer the
consequences," he told her, turning to return to his dinner.

Rhea was right, the iron was not as bad as the toad had been.  She
lay quietly and thought about what Karab had said.  She was
surprised to learn that her master was considered a demon, in the
literal sense, by some of his nobility.  This could be good or bad.
She wondered if he realized this, and then considered that he
probably did.  As she reflected on what she knew of him, she came
to understand how some of them could believe such a thing.  Karab
had told her that the stars were showing massive upheaval.  Perhaps
that was why she could feel a change in her Power.  It had never
been great enough to train, but there was a warning tingle, like
that of the coal imbedded in the flesh of her shoulder, that told
her of something coming.

After the fourth tolling of the night bell, Karab returned, looking
satisfied and full.  He knelt beside her and removed the gag.
Swallowing hard, she managed not to vomit from the remainder of the
nausea.

"You are a lovely thing.  If His Majesty ever favors me enough to
give you to me, instead of merely loaning, I could find so many
more interesting diversions.  You would die of course, my dear, but
only after I am through with you.  Who knows, you may last an
entire month."

Rhea closed her eyes and gave the ritual response, "If that would
please you, Master," she managed through dry tongue and lips.  The
cloth had left a foul taste in her mouth.

Karab began unlocking her chains.  He removed the iron rod.  She
pulled herself to a kneeling position, ignoring the fact that there
was blood on her thighs from his rings, and he had left the choke-
leash on.  He began to divest himself of the food and wine-stained
silk robes.  Stripping off all but two of his rings, he stood
before her, after wrapping himself in a violet silk bathrobe.

Taking hold of the choke-leash, he pulled her head up to face him.
"You know what I want now.  And, my dear, you know what will happen
if I feel the slightest scrape from your teeth."  He tugged just
hard enough that she coughed.

"Yes, Master."  For good measure, she added, "Your whim is my law."
Another ritual phrase, this time one she had learned at the Scarlet
Lily.  She remained kneeling and opened the front of the robe with
gentle hands.

Engulfing him with her mouth, she felt the first stirring of blood
in the organ.  Gently she stroked it to fullness and then ran her
tongue in light flicks across the tight skin on the underside of
the head.  An impatient tug on the leash told her to get on with
the procedure.  A few prefunctionary licks at the hanging sac and
she moved on between his legs.  Long strokes brought her to the
back sphincter.  Biting back her repulsion, she began to probe with
her tongue, trying to ignore the clots that hung in the dark hairs
nearby.  The foul taste filled her mouth, yet she persisted, hoping
at least to put him in a pleasant enough mood to spare her any more
punishment.

Above her, she felt his bulk tremble and heard a sigh.  Apparently,
he was pleased or else she would soon end with a mouth full of his
dirt.  He had done that once, released his bowels into her mouth.
She had vomited hard and repeatedly, until she dry-heaved into the
stone well in the corner.  He had lost all interest in her and
returned her to the harem unused that time.  He had also complained
to her master about her ineptitude.  She had been sent to the
dungeon, pending his departure, and placed in a common cell.  Quarg
had taught her not to displease Karab.  After he had left, her
master had questioned her about the incident.  Knowing not to lie,
she told the truth and had been surprised when he had paled a bit.
She was quickly forgiven and returned to the harem.

Another tug on her leash told her it was enough.  The damp patch on
her lower back told her she had successfully satisfied him.  There
would be more abuse, no doubt, but she bore up under the thought
that this was her bad duty, and the rest of the celebrations should
be pleasant enough.

"You are talented, my dear.  So much better than the lad I have to
do that at home.  He and my favorite girl take turns at it, seeing
who can last the longest without gagging.  One mouth is like
another, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master," she answered rather thickly.

"Here, wipe your face, my dear," he said handing her a scrap of a
rag.  She took it to the basin, and surreptitiously rinsed her
mouth a time or two as she clensed her face.  Her face clean,
although there was still a bad taste in her mouth, she walked back
and knelt in front of Karab.

"Now what shall I do with you?" Karab asked, more to himself than
Rhea.  He wandered over to the trunk and rummaged again.  He
returned with a length of chain, a small crock, and a single bladed
whip.  He kicked the rug aside, uncovering the lower ring, and
removed the hanging globe of witch-light from the hook in the
ceiling.

     Rhea came when she was beckoned and stretched for the ceiling.
Karab, standing on a chair, wrapped her wrists in the chains and
hung her from the ceiling.  As she watched, he rubbed the whip with
some oil from the crock.

"Every time you whimper, yelp or scream, my dear, I will ram this
whip up your hot little gash.  That should only make it hotter.
You see, up north, they have this lovely plant called the pepper.
I have it cultivated in a hothouse back home, and the oil it makes
is quite the rage at the houses that cater to a more refined
clientele.  The fruit is quite spicy to eat, and the oil burns any
of the more delicate membranes it contacts.  This is your
punishment for avoiding me last night, my dear."

Neither keeping verbal count himself, nor making her count the
blows, Karab began to beat the girl.  The whip was slender, and on
more than one occasion broke the skin.  He had not lied about the
oil.  Where her back was cut, it burned like fire, and she had not
been able to contain her cry.  The handle of the whip entered her,
again as promised, the oil making it burn horribly.  She sobbed
again, and the handle thrust into her again, hard and deep.

Regaining her control, Rhea begged, "Please, Master.  Forgive a
slave girl's foolishness.  The first night you are in court I am
yours, save if my master claims me.  Please."

"You have learned one lesson, slave girl, now about my little
froggy friend..."  He struck her again.  Fortunately, Karab was
given to decadence and had little use for strenuous exercise.  The
cuts were not deep and should heal quickly, but the pepper burned
beyond endurance.  Rhea heard the night bell toll again.  Karab was
breathing heavily from the unaccustomed exertion.

"I think that should be enough, my dear.  Remember, the first night
is mine.  I must rest a moment, and think."

Placing the handle of the whip inside her, after a fresh coat of
oil, He tied her thighs together with the blade.  Tears were
rolling freely and she gasped for breath in short cries.

After resting a moment, he picked up the large beeswax candle and
brought it over to her.  It was lit and a puddle of molten wax had
formed in a well.  He held it in front of her and began to pour the
hot wax down onto the well-shaped breasts, concentrating especially
on the sensitive nipples.

Already crying, there was little other form of expression Rhea
could use.  She hung her head and turned her face away.

Having created a thick layer of wax on her body, most of it in
interesting patterns if he did say so himself, Karab set the candle
back down.  "I think you have learned your lesson, my dear."  He
unhooked her chained wrists from the hook and let her down.  She
remained standing straight, since he had not given her permission
to move.  "On your belly at my feet," he finally commanded.

Moving awkwardly with the whip still tied inside of her, Rhea
dropped first to her knees and then to her belly.  The carpet
pressed the still-warm wax harder onto her skin.  She felt the
large K he had drawn across her chest, the wax tightening as it
began to harden.  He untied the whip and drew it out of her.  A
faint hope rose.  Perhaps this time he would be merciful and use
her normally.

The hope was crushed by the weight of him settling on her open
back.  She knew the process.  First would be some probing at the
front opening and then the ripping sensation at the back.  Knowing
it would hurt less if she relaxed, she tried to think of more
pleasant things, like the butterflies in the garden, how pretty
Gold-lily had looked in the green silks this morning, and other
pleasant thoughts.  It helped some.

Then came the rending thrust at the back, with no forewarning.
Rhea stifled a scream into the rug.  Clenching her teeth on a
corner of it, she tried to inflict her pain on something other than
her body.  She was torn open and it hurt and burned at the same
time.

The pain lessened only slowly; his thrusts came in deep harsh
bursts.  Finally it was enough for him, and there was a crushing
sensation of his weight upon her, with the vile smell of his oiled
hair mingling noxiously with the heavy spice perfume he had
requested on her.

Withdrawing, he stood up, and went to the basin.  Fastidiously
cleaning himself, although she had left no residue, he wrapped the
robe back around him and stood in front of her.

"I have had enough of you, my dear.  You may return to the harem,
and reflect upon what you have learned.  You proved most
satisfactory, as usual."

"Thank you, Master," she said softly as she stood.  He closed the
door after watching her until she was out of sight.  The marks on
her back enhanced her greatly, and the thin pale red stream that
was slowly creeping down the back of her thigh was most arousing.

He returned to the room, hung the witchlight globe back on its
hook, and began plotting what to do to the girl tomorrow, if there
was one.  If not, young Filgar would serve nicely when he got home.


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