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Dark Lord (bondage, dom)
by Succubus (c) 1992
*******
Rhea looked up at her master as he held her. He had spent himself again,
and she was giving him time to catch his breath before really beginning her
demonstration. They were both flushed and sticky from the warmth of their
bodies, but he looked reasonably content.
She smiled up as she plotted her next move. He would not accept her in a
dominant role, but had agreed to let her lead. She was thinking desperately
of what she had and had not done with him, that was submissive enough for
him to accept. She came up with three suitable positions and several acts
to try. Shak- ing off the lassitude that had followed her satiation, she
rolled out of his arms and stood.
Posing seductively beside the bed, she bounced a large breast in the palm
of her hand and leered. "Come on, love, go another round with Topaz
Tigress," she wheedled, in the voice that had made her a favorite in the
Scarlet Lily. The Dark Lord looked at her, about half asleep. Seeing what
she was up to, he smiled slightly and reached for her.
"My turn, Master, if you wish," she whispered, easing into his arms. She
kissed him long and deep before she released him.
"Did they really call you Topaz Tigress?" he asked.
"Yes, Master. Look at my eyes in the torchlight."
He had looked at them often enough, but now, with the influence of strong
arousal, they looked different. The brown had lightened to a golden color,
the shade of the fawn topaz earrings she now wore which he had given her
years ago. "I see," he said, kissing her. "Close your eyes, Topaz Tigress.
I have something for you." Rhea closed her eyes, enjoying a rapport she had
not experienced for months.
The Dark Lord took her hand and guided it on a slow tour of first her body
and then his own. He ended and let her encir- cle his shaft with her
fingers. He was still flaccid and she opened her eyes.
"Close them. This is yours, to enjoy for as long as I see fit to permit it.
If I do not like anything, your privilege is revoked and we will finish
this night in the dungeon. Under- stood, slave girl?"
"Yes, Master," she responded, knowing now what she was risking.
"Then begin," he commanded, releasing her.
Rhea lay beside him for a moment, curled next to the lean, strong body she
adored. Then, opening her eyes, she stood and reached out to him. "If you
would stand, my master?" she asked, readying her plans.
The Dark Lord stood up next to her, and she reached for his lips. "I have
many secrets, Master," she whispered. "Per- haps I should show you some of
them. This is called," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his temples,
"The Satin Spiral." Her tongue moved across his forehead to the other
temple. Nibbling on his left earlobe, her hands began to caress his body in
an ever-downward spiral. They moved slowly, at the same rate as her mouth,
stroking his shoulders as she planted light kisses on his eyelids.
As her tongue grazed his lips, he reached out with his own, stopping her
for a moment. Her hands kneaded the flesh beneath them like a cat's paws.
He took a firm grip on her, fully intending to end her teasing, but she
broke the kiss and looked up at him, hurt. Reluctantly, he let go,
determined to see what other things she had in store for him.
She passed his chin and then moved over beside him. Running her tongue
along the line of nerves just beneath his ear, she felt him clench his
fists and grit his teeth. A faint groan escaped him. She knew he liked it
and repeated the motion.
"Once more, slave girl, and you won't finish," he warned her. She moved on
to nibble delicately at the back of his neck.
Working her way down his spine, she came to the lowest left rib. Tracing
along that with her tongue, her hands now exploring the hard outline of his
hips, she began to lave her way up the left half of his rib cage. She
paused for a moment to suck at his nipple. As always, he clutched her hair.
"You, Alia, and Elna are the only ones who do that right," he said,
enjoying the sensations. She found her way up to the collar-bones. Going
down the outside of his left arm, she felt the many scars unfold under her
lips. It was ironic that such a strong man scarred so easily, she thought
as she noticed one that she herself had left accidentally. His hands, the
strong broad hands with their long bony fingers, also fell under her
ministrations. She stroked all of the fingers, taking them one by one into
her mouth and swirling her tongue around them. She kissed the hollow of his
palm and began up the inside.
Coming up to his shoulder, she traced across to the other side and repeated
her actions with his sword hand. Then she began down the right side of his
ribs. Reaching the lowest, she again moved behind him. Pausing for an
instant to wet her lips and tongue, she started down his spine again.
Now came a moment of decision, should she start at the front or the back,
or should she work down one leg and up the other? Rhea pondered these as
she tasted each knob of bone scarcely covered by the scant flesh. Reaching
her decision and his hips at the same time, she moved back to the front of
his body. She was kneeling now and he looked tall, standing above her with
his eyes half-shut, enjoying her touch.
She started down the right leg. The flat muscles of his thigh tensed as she
stroked them. He mumbled something incoher- ent as she flicked her tongue
across his hamstrings. Her hands braced her as she licked his ankles. A
kiss for each toe and a flick under the arch of his foot, and she repeated
the process on the other leg.
Reaching his knee, she moved to the inside of his thigh, stroking, licking
and touching her teeth to it. She sensed a tension in his body that had not
been there, and moved to the outside. Coming up on his hip, she followed
the ridge of bone to the center of his body, and looked up.
"Master," she said, "I know this is something you do not ask for, with
reasons I understand. But, please permit me, just this once. I cannot hurt
you, my master, my love, so please..."
"I am gambling on you, slave. Do it."
Moving carefully, she kissed the plum-shaped head and ran her tongue down
the length of him. Folding her lips over her teeth, she encompassed him,
swirling and flicking her tongue around him, always careful. She luxuriated
in the feeling of satiation that was accompanying this. It had been too
long since she had done it in a leisurely fashion. The few men who had
trusted her to do this had always taken charge, and had a tenden- cy to gag
her by thrusting too deeply into her mouth.
The Dark Lord stood, wobbling a bit. His favorite had surprised him in a
pleasant fashion yet again. The softness of her mouth, combined with the
constant dance of her tongue, were arousing him very quickly. This was
something he had been leery of. He had tried it once before, but she had
been as inexperi- enced as he and it was a dismal failure. He cleared his
mind of the thought. Now...now he was reaching one of the fastest cli-
maxes of his life.
Sensing her master's readiness, Rhea moved away. Seeing the disappointment
which was beginning to fade to anger, she said, "There is still more, if
you want it."
He looked down at her, still surprised. "More?"
"Yes, Master. Let me show you." She paused briefly to wet her lips and
check for cuts. Having folded them over her teeth may not have been the
wisest choice, but definitely the safest. "Move your legs apart, Master, if
you would." She moved forward, between his feet and sat back on her heels.
"This will be a bit more risky for you. I cannot protect you as I did
before." She stretched up and encompassed the dangling sac with her mouth.
Careful not to close her teeth on it, she began running her tongue over it.
The two almond-sized solids parted and there was the distinct sensation of
his skin rubbing against itself from the inside.
Oddly enough, to his mind, she began a toneless, tuneless drone. The
vibrations spread up into his lower abdomen and through his body. Again,
his body began to demand a release from this torturous pleasure. Releasing
him, Rhea scooted her knees further between his legs.
She began stroking the long strip of skin, so well pro- tected by his
thighs. Tingles began to run through him. This was completely new to him.
She licked as she would one of her girls, seeming to probe for an opening.
The strokes became longer as she worked her way further back.
The Dark Lord was unsure Rhea would actually go through with the logical
conclusion; in fact, he had hoped she would not. The idea repulsed him. He
felt the first, feather-light touches of her tongue near the tightly
clenched sphincter.
He grasped her hair and pulled her away rudely. "Where did you learn that?
It wasn't here."
"No, Master. Diebe, the Satyr's Delight. The Scarlet Lily uses the same
method, but ends in the front."
"How have you stayed in practice for nine years, then?"
"Karab," she said quietly. Somehow, it was no surprise. The decadent ruler
of Pergamum had made a habit of requesting Rhea, and now he thought he
understood.
"Go rinse your mouth. You have displeased me."
"Yes, Master," she said, walking over to the basin. Pouring out a handful
of water, she swished it in her mouth for a few moments. She spat into the
basin.
"Again," he commanded, as he opened the armoire. Taking out the whip that
hung on the door, he looked at the slave. She had finished rinsing and now
knelt before him, in the disgraced position. Her wrists and forehead were
on the floor, and he planted one bare foot on her wrists to hold her in
place. Strik- ing her twice, moderately hard, he stepped off and returned
the whip to its peg. The red welts appeared on her back and she remained in
the posture.
"Do you know why you were just struck?" he asked.
"I displeased you, Master. That is reason enough," she answered. Her voice
sounded strong. She was not crying.
"Yes, it is. But you are not to repeat your error. Do you understand what
it was?"
"Yes, Master. I should have stopped in the front. I deprived you of your
release."
"Reason enough. Stand up." She stood with her eyes still on the floor. "No,
look at me." Frightened of meeting his eyes, knowing what she might see,
she lifted her eyes slowly.
The cold dark eyes that met hers were not angry, merely not pleased. He
drew her in and searched her soul for the rea- sons behind her acts. The
only thing he saw in the topaz eyes was love. He took hold of her and drew
her to himself, releasing her eyes as he did. She rested against his chest,
feeling the beat of his heart.
"You are no longer disgraced, slave girl. Your privilege has been revoked.
I will finish with you as I see fit. However, you still have secrets to
show me. I will find them out later." He picked her up easily, although she
knew she outweighed him by thirty pounds. Carrying her to the bed, he set
her down. "This time, you will not deprive me of release."
And she did not.
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Apologies for the VERY weak ending. My collaborator complained too. It will
look better in context: Rhea has been in trouble since she failed to seduce
a priest of the High One. She's been in and out of the dungeon, both on her
own errors and on her elven protegee's. This is the first chance she has
had to prove to her master that she does in fact love him and she should
remain his favorite.
The response has been encouraging on the stories. More will be forthcoming.
I have one with a minimum of sex but an excruciat- ing flagellation as the
centerpoint. I am uncertain it is appro- priate to post, since the beating
is not for sexual purposes, but as punishment for sex. Help? Anyone?
Slave of Matth
formerly Angel the Succubus
And she did not.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Path: ub!zaphod.mps.ohio-
state.edu!maverick.ksu.ksu.edu!umriscc!mcs213k.cs.umr.edu!asparrow From:
asparrow@cs.umr.edu (Angelia Sparrow) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage Subject:
Story (well, novel fragment)--Karab Keywords: pain, pain and more pain.
MD-FS Message-ID: <2751@umriscc.isc.umr.edu> Date: 16 May 91 23:45:59 GMT
Sender: news@umriscc.isc.umr.edu Organization: University of Missouri -
Rolla Originator: asparrow@mcs213k.cs.umr.edu
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 opulent 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,
proceeded 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 dan- gerous 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 satis- fy 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 vaguely 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
proceeded to thrust the iron rod into her. It was cold and painful, but she
had endured larger, since it was proba- bly 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 be- lieve 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 embedded in the flesh of her shoulder, that told her of something
coming.
After the fourth tolling of the night bell, Karab re- turned, 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 pleas- ant 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 inep- titude. She had
been sent to the dungeon, pending his departure, and placed in a common
cell. Quarg had taught her not to dis- please 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 satis- fied 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 cleansed 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 fore- warning. Rhea
stifled a scream into the rug. Clenching her teeth on a corner of it, she
tried to inflict her pain on some- thing 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. Fastid- iously 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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Here it is, a portion of the novel I am working on with my friend who
prefer to remain anonymous, going only by Dark One. If there is interest, I
may post actual chapters. As always, comments are welcome at
asparrow@cs.umr.edu. I am STILL not getting any! (alt.sex.bondage or any
other newsgroup) As for sex, I'm getting plenty, but that's none of y'all's
beeswax.
BTW: with bikini season coming up, I thought I'd ask, does anyone else
break out in a hideous rash when they shave their pubic hair? How do you
avoid it? I just waxed my fuzzies en- tirely off, and am covered with
bruises. Epilady is OUT! of the question (sorry, but I am emphatic on
that.) and it is unsightly to have fur hanging an inch below your bikini
bottom (mine's urban camo and boy does it clash with my red hair.) Thanks.
ObBondage: Masters (mistresses) does having you slave entirely naked (I
mean hair wise) turn you on? Why?
Succubus
(E-mail me, I miss you all. Hope they get the newsfeed turned on soon.
Gaila 2 is coming! Mid June by the latest.
Between wars and the Drunken Mammoth revel, I'll get'er done.) Half the fun
of writing a bondage story is doing the (*grin*) research.