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                                 Slaves/nov-frag
                                      Dark One
                           Novel Fragment, untitled, Karab
                        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.
                                               ______
                  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: 
                                    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.

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  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.
                                               ______
                 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.  As for sex, I'm getting
                            plenty, but that's none of y'all's beeswax.
                                                  
                                                  
                                                  
                                                  
                                                  

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