Barbaria Act 3 Chapter 5

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Barbaria Act 3 Chapter 5Princess Venetia was seated on her throne wearing a short length gown of gold and golden sandals. She had learned that gold was the favourite colour of the ex-ruler of Barbaria so that made it rather amusing. It was the following morning and Xena would have spent an uncomfortable night in a cold stone cell. In chains. “Bring the slave, Xena, to me,” she ordered two of the four female Overseers who were attending her. They, as usual were garbed in their customary black tunics and boots. “She will crawl into my presence.” “Yes, Highness …” Two of the Overseers left and, shortly afterwards, the double doors opened and a scuffling sound could be heard. One of the Overseers came in. “The slave refuses to crawl, your Highness.” reported the Overseer. “Indeed!” Princess Venetia`s eyebrows went up and a smile f lickered over her features. “Just drag her in then.” Kicking and struggling, the naked form of Xena was hauled into the Throne Room by means of an iron collar and chain. “D-Devils… m-monsters… oooohhh how can you treat me like this?” she panted hoarsely. “Pull her erect,” ordered Venetia. An Overseer got hold of Xena’s rich black hair and yanked hard. Xena came erect, but remained on her knees. Venetia delighted in the anguished, distraught features before her. She thinks she is suffering, Venetia said to herself, but it hasn’t even begun yet. “So… you are still defying me, slave?” she said. Silence from Xena, features quivering uncontrollably. “You refuse to crawl at my command.” Venetia smiled. “My, my, you are certainly building up a most severe punishment for yourself.” Xena’s features twitched. “However, if you crawl to me NOW and kiss my boots, I may be more lenient with you.”A snorting sound of rejection came from Xena. If she had the strength or the capability she would have hurled herself towards the throne and tried to tear Venetia to ribbons with her nails. Her dark eyes were wild. “You refuse?” enquired Venetia mildly. “I… I… REFUSE!” answered Xena in a cracked voice. Venetia was delighted by this display of obstinate fortitude. “Very well,” said Venetia, “we’ll see what a further eight hours hanging from the ceiling does for you …” “NOOO… OOOOOO …NOT THAT!” shrieked Xena in sudden horror. She could not bear so many more hours of agonising strain on her muscles. But, already the Overseers had seized her and the chains were going on to her manacles. “Nooooooo… NOOOOOOO… NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!” Xena was fast becoming hysterical and she threshed and jerked incessantly as the pulleys raised her steadily aloft. A long banshee wail of despair filled the chamber as Venetia rose and was followed out by the Overseers. She had thought Xena would be tough but she was turning out to be tougher than she had expected. So much the better. For there was not the faintest possible shadow of doubt she would break her in the end. And break her completely.Meanwhile, in another part of the Palace, Lady Miralda, with the help of Tavia, was preparing to get down to work. They had decided that this was not to be some simple straight forward flogging for both Karena and Zena… a flogging into insensibility. It was going to be something rather more subtle; more prolonged. “This might take the rest of the morning,” said Miralda. Tavia grinned impishly. “Why not? These two youngsters deserve everything that’s coming to them after what they did to you.”“I think,” said Miralda, “we’ll start by caning them on their inner thighs. They’ll be nice and sensitive there.” “Mmmmm …yes… good idea …” “We’ll hang them up inverted, thighs pulled wide.” “Excellent,” agreed Tavia. She was very glad she and Miralda were getting on so well. “Afterwards,” went on Miralda, “we’ll cane them on their tits.” “Another lovely idea,” smiled Tavia. “Let’s hang them up first. We can get Leo to help us with that. Then we can choose the rods.” Still hanging from the wall, Karena and Zena were weeping incessantly. They knew their old world was at an end and a new one, of unimaginable pain and horror, was about to begin. “Merceeee… merceeee… Mistress…” Zena began to whine. “I… I’ll do… do anything… you want …” Miralda had always considered Zena the worst of the two, always egging Karena on. She thumped the girl hard in the belly. “You certainly will,” she rasped. Robbed of wind, Zena hung groaning and heaving. “Leo… come in here!” called out Tavia. In a remarkably short space of time, Leo came crawling in. He had stopped sobbing; he just moaned as he moved. Briskly, Miralda explained what she wanted. The two girls were to be secured inverted in sets of chains which hung down from the ceiling. Working efficiently. Leo manacled each girl’s ankles and soon they were pulled aloft, shrieking loudly as their thighs were pulled wide apart. The straining of the inner muscles could clearly be seen. Miralda wondered what it must be like for Leo to be able to handle his ex-Mistress in this way. Doubtless, despite the flogging, he was getting pleasure out of it. Just as he had got pleasure out of manhandling her. It couldn’t be helped. Miralda and Tavia went to a trestle bench where dozens of different instruments of correction were laid out. For a moment, Miralda shivered at the sight of them. She had felt far too many of them for her liking. But those dreadful days were over now.“I suggest whalebone for the thighs and tits,” said Tavia. “It cuts keenly.” “I agree,” said Miralda. Each woman picked up a rod and tested it. The hard flexible whalebone whistled shrilly through the air. It must have sent icicles of terror through the two waiting victims. “Nice.” said Tavia. “Nice,” agreed Miralda. “I suggest we start at the lowest and narrowest part of the thighs and then work gradually up. And without any hurry. After all, we’ve got all day if necessary.” Tavia grinned. She liked Miralda’s style. Unbowed despite all her Escort bayan sufferings. “About half a minute between each stroke then?” “Fine… fine …” “Merceeee… ooohh… merceeee… merceeee …” Both girls were babbling incessantly. Neither had ever been thrashed in her life before. They could not believe it was still really happening to them… though they did have an idea of how agonising it was going to be. Had they not made their own slaves writhe in torment, again and again? Miralda measured the slimmest part of Zena’s thigh; Tavia did likewise with Karena. They glanced at each other, tensing. Then up went the rods… and down they whistled simultaneously, biting into tender-soft flesh. Two piercing shrieks filled the room. Two naked young bodies jerked like fishes on hooks. The surge of sadistic revenge-pleasure that went through Miralda was almost indescribable. How lovely to know that she was going to reduce this bitch to a wreck of whining, grovelling submission! The seconds ticked away, the thigh flesh twitched in dread. Then the rods went up again. Zzzzzwwweee… ccrrraaaccckkk! Zzzzzwwweee… ccrrraaaccckkk! Biting… and biting deep… just fractionally higher. Perhaps a quarter of an inch. More shrieks of torment; more frantic jerking. The strain on the thigh muscles must have been considerable, thought Miralda. So much the better. In this remorseless, methodical manner, Miralda and Tavia worked slowly up the left hand thigh of each girl. Until six strokes had been laid on. Three minutes’ work. “Now I think we’ll change thighs.” said Miralda. “Right …” The direction of the two rods was switched and the biting-cutting of the hard whalebone worked its way slowly up the opposite thigh. The shrieking-sound became ear-splitting. After the twelfth stroke, something like one and a half inches to two inches of each thigh carried a cruel, ridged encircling band of torment. And there was still so much unmarked white thigh to be dealt with. A thigh which widened and would receive longer and even more agonising weals. “A little interlude, I think,” said Miralda. “Whatever you wish, my dear. 1 suppose they would have been given a stimulant potion before they were sent here?” asked Tavia. “I ordered a double one. The maximum,” smiled Miralda. “they won’t start slipping away from us for a long time yet.” “Good!” laughed Tavia, clapping her hands like a schoolgirl. “In any event,” said Miralda, “we can always get Leo to supply the smoking twigs. Great revivers those. I should know.” Tavia kissed her new friend on the cheek. “Don’t think about that any more. You are the Mistress now.” “I’ll try not to,” said Miralda.In a relaxed fashion, Miralda and Tavia consumed a bottle of wine, meticulously served by Leo. The two teenagers hung, sobbing and moaning constantly, swinging gently to and fro. They could not believe they would ever have had to submit to such awful pain. It was impossible! Impossible! Poor dears… they did not realise it was but just the beginning! “Well, let’s go,” said Miralda, finishing off a goblet of red wine. “Ready when you are,” smiled Tavia. “Same procedure?”“Just the same,” nodded Miralda, picking up her rod with evident relish. “N-N-Nooooooo… more… nooooooo!” shrieked Zena. Karena’s mouth was gaping, incoherent sounds coming from it. “‘A lot more,” Miralda almost snarled. With monotonous regularity, the hard white rods began to fall methodically again. Screams of torment filled the room as the weals marched fractionally, stroke by stroke, up the white thighs. Twelve more strokes, six on each thigh. then there was another another pause. “I think they’re really beginning to feel it.” said Tavia with a hint of laughter in her voice. “I’m glad …I’m so glad …” replied Miralda. Despite everything, she could not help recall the sufferings she had endured in that apartment. Leo was sent to fetch another pitcher of wine. “How’s your ass feeling?” enquired Miralda as he poured. “V-Very… very painful, Mistress,” he answered. “Good!” snapped Miralda. “Bend over, slave.” Looking startled and apprehensive, but without delaying, Leo did as he was told. He got two swift cuts from Mlralda across his lacerated rump. He yelped, jerking up as the rod bit. “Just to keep you on your toes, slave!” smiled Miralda. “Yes, Mistress,” answered Leo. He recalled those days when he had been ordered to fuck this most attractive woman. By the Gods, how he had enjoyed that! But now those days were well and truly over. Perhaps, he thought, as he stood there subserviently, they might order him to fuck his ex-Mistress. Well, that wouldn’t be too bad, would it? In the main courtyard of the Palace, Princess Venetia’s instructions were being carried out. A line of shivering male slaves stood helpless, some young, some middle-aged, all shackled by their balls. They were facing death by beheading, on the orders of their new Ruler. That was bad enough but, before that, they were to be castrated. Somehow that was almost worse than death. Shuddering, whining, pleading, they formed a square around a wooden dais on which had been set a curving block of wood, festooned with straps. The first of their number, the High Chamberlain, was led up on to the dais by six female Overseers. He was wetting himself; sobbing. “N-N-No… no… no… why this… oooooh… why… oh why?” He could see the sharp-bladed knives held by two muscular Overseers. He cringed inwardly and outwardly. Surely he did not deserve such a fate? Yet he did. His great delight in life had been to play around with girls of sixteen or s*******n years of age. To make them suck him… to frig them. He couldn’t do much else as he was virtually impotent. Powerful female arms gripped him and forced him, face up on the block. Straps held him down secure. He began to cry out horribly. Those who had to watch… and were going to have Bayan escort to go through this ordeal, too… were petrified with horror. Barbaria had been a cruel state but it seemed that Sythia was even crueller! One hand siezed the High Chamberlain’s miserable penis and upraised it. Another hand, wielding a knife, neatly sliced off his balls… then a third hand, equally neatly, sliced off his penis itself. The sounds were hideous… but they did not last all that long. Another Overseer advanced bearing a wide-headed axe which glinted in the sunshine. It rose up high, then came hurtling down. It crashed into the neck of the High Chamberlain, severing the head instantly. The bloody remains were tossed into a basket which was then hauled away. Whining and shaking as if with fever, the second member of what had once been Princess Alexena’s Court, was led up on to the dais. There were thirty or more still to come. Thus perished the male aristocracy of the State of Barbaria.But, maybe, they were fortunate in view of what lay ahead for the ex-ladies of the Court! Miralda was feeling a little intoxicated. Not only with wine but with sadistic joy as well. Both Karena and Zena had each received eighteen strokes on each thigh… and there was still adequate room for more. Twelve more on each thigh, at least, she reckoned. Twelve more strokes on the tenderest thigh-flesh of all, culminating in where it joined the cunt-flesh. What Heaven! “How are they holding out?” asked Miralda. Tavia made an examination. “Not too bad,” she said. “Perhaps a few buckets of water…“ “Good idea!” Leo was given his instructions… and soon two dripping wet figures hung in their chains… gasping and wailing, shuddering with unrelieved pain. “Let’s give it to them again,” said Miralda. “Yes… let’s!” cried Tavia happily. The whippy white rods began to raise and fall once more, at measured intervals. Slicing, biting, raising red-purple ridges of excruciating torment. The frenzy of writhing that was produced was amazing to see. It did not seem possible that there could be such contortions… that muscles could endure such incredible strain. But a young body, especially when fortified by powerful stimulants, has remarkable staying power! Unfortunately for Karena and Zena! The final six strokes on each thigh fell on the very apex, just where it joined the flesh of the mound. Indeed, deliberately, several of the strokes fell on the flesh of the mound itself. Utterly beyond endurance! Both girls swooped down into insensibility… temporarily, if not briefly, out of their hideous torment.“Excellent!” pronounced Miralda. “Excellent indeed!” agreed Tavia. “My, my, this looks very tender,” she added, running her hand over the cruelly lacerated flesh. “It will be even more tender when they’ve had some hot spices on it,” said Miralda. “Oh… my… my… are you going to do that?” “Why not?“ “Mmmmm… why not indeed?” Tavia, too, was on a wave of exultant sadism. Here they had two female creatures they could do whatever they liked with. “Leo… the twigs …” snapped Miralda. “At once, Mistress.” Leo put the twigs intothe fire until they were smouldering well, then they were placed under the girls’ nostrils. “Uuuggghhh… ughhh… eeeggghhh… ggggrrrrrrr… uuuugggghhh… uggggghhh …” The heaving-snorting sounds were horrible. But the acrid twigs did their work. Karena and Zena were brought back to life. It was Miralda herself who massaged the burning spice into the tenderised flesh. She thought it was only her right and Tavia didn’t mind a bit. The renewed screams were quite awful. Reminiscent of pigs being slaughtered. Ear-splitting. Head-ringing. “We’ll leave them for a bit,” smiled Miralda. “To think things over.” She put her arm around Tavia. “That’s made me very randy,” she said. “Me too.” Tavia smiled back. “You’re not Princess Venetia’s personal property, are you?” asked Miralda. “Not really. But I think we ought to be discreet.” “We will be,” assured Miralda.Personal Narrative of Lady Tavia I felt a bit guilty getting into bed with Miralda but, even if she had found out, I don’t think Venetia would have really minded. She is very easy going about sexual matters and thinks nothing of having a slave-girl tongue her in front of me… or having a slave-girl do the same for me. Jealousy doesn’t come into it. Both of us were naked. Miralda has a lovely mature body and I could see – and feel – she liked mine too. “You’re so mature for one so young,” she said, after she had been sucking my nipples for a while. They had become as firm as little wooden pegs. Then I came on top of her and began to suck her nipples, at the same time rubbing my mound against hers. She sighed and moaned happily. Constantly flashing through my mind were memories of what we had just done. The stark cruelty of it excited me even more. There were those two, still hanging inverted, thighs straining, suffering the agonies of the damned. Applying those burning spices had been the perfect touch. And next, I remembered, they were going to get their breasts caned. I have never caned a girl’s breasts before. The very thought of it being done excited me enormously. It must be unbelievably painful. “Let’s tongue each other at the same time.” whispered Miralda. “M mmmm… yes… let’s do that …” I twisted round and she parted her thighs, my head went between them. I was faintly surprised to find she had no pubic hair then realised that, as a slave, she would have had that removed. It was automatic; an outward sign of subservience. Well, it wouldn’t take long to grow again. I felt her lips and tongue getting to work. It was lovely. Mine did the same… and it wasn’t long before we were both wriggling about ecstatically all over the bed. We climaxed more or less simultaneously. Then we had a lovely rest, cradled in each other’s arms. I imagined that this must Escort have been the first genuine sexual pleasure Miralda had had for some time. I was so glad that I had had the privilege of giving it to her. A little later we tongued each other again… and, it seemed, even more devotedly. Finally, I cried out in a prolonged orgasm which left me feeling as weak as a kitten. Then once more we rested. I slept… and when I awoke, I saw Miralda putting on her dress again. I slipped out of bed and did likewise.There was work to be done!Despite the double potions they had received. Karena and Zena were hanging more or less insensible. Little bubbling moans were coming from slack mouths; eyes were glazed and unfocused. “Leo… in here!” called Miralda. Leo came in at the double, still wincing from his stripes. “Get buckets of water and chuck them over them,” came the order. “At once, Mistress…” Leo rushed out and came staggering back with a couple of buckets. Slosh… slosh! The girls stirred feebly but were not revived. Leo fetched more water. Slosh… slosh! Straight into each face. They started to come round, groaning horribly. It must have been like waking up into a living nightmare. Two more buckets did the trick and they became fully alive to the situation. “Now where shall we have them.” mused Miralda, looking round for inspiration. Her eyes lit on two leather armchairs. “Ah yes… they’ll do nicely,” she said. “Slave… fetch cords… plenty of them.” “Yes, Mistress.” Leo scuttled out again. I had to admit his lacerated rump looked exceedingly painful. Then he was back in no time at all, it seemed. “Take down Karena first,” ordered Miralda. “Then place her with her back to that armchair.” She pointed. “Tie her knee-joints to the castors. Tight.” “Yes, Mistress.” Leo was all urgent servility. Down came Karena, moaning but quite unresisting. She was too weak. Leo positioned her and secured her as instructed. “Now,” said Miralda, “get hold of her arms and pull her up over the top of the armchair.” Leo did so and Karena’s torso was raised up and bent back. “Now tie her wrists to the front castors.” Leo did so, ensuring that the girl’s breasts were at the up thrusting apex. They were quite good breasts for a girl of her age. Rather larger than average, very white, with pale aureoles and nipples. I felt a tingling of excitement. They weren’t going to be that white colour much longer! “Do the same with the other one,” ordered Miralda. “Yes, Mistress.” Leo went to work, most willingly it seemed. Well, these two had also treated him without any mercy time and again. Zena’s breasts were not quite as big as Karena’s and her nipples and aureoles were a pale brown. The two sets of orbs thrust up, side by side, with the utmost invitation. “What a pretty sight,” I said. “Isn’t it just,” laughed Miralda. The two girls were just beginning to realise, fully, what was about to happen. Their eyes, filled with terror, seemed to be starting from their sockets. “NOOOOOOO …” shrieked Karena. “OOOOHHHH… YOU CAN’T… YOU WOULDN’T … N-NOT ON OUR B-BREASTS!” “Tits,” said Miralda. “Slaves have tits, not breasts …” Zena joined in the anguished pleading. “OHHH… NNNNOOOO… YOU MUSTN’T …YOU COULDN’T MEAN TO DO IT!” “Do you think we should continue with the whalebone?” asked Miralda. I nodded. “Yes… it is slim, but cuts nicely. A cane might do much more damage too quickly.” “Yes,” agreed Miralda, “we can reserve a good meaty cane for the backsides a little later on.” “SSSTTTOOOOPPPPPP… OOOOHHHH… STOOOO… OPPP… I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT… ANYTHING!” screeched Karena hysterically. “ANYTHING… ANYTHING!” agreed Zena, at the same pitch of hysteria. Miralda picked up a rod… and so did I. I looked close into her eyes as I tapped one of her soft orbs with the tip of the rod. “This is going to hurt… a lot …” I said. “M ERCCCCEEEEEEE!” she screamed. “Ready?” asked Miralda.“Ready!” I answered. The rods lashed down simultaneously. I aimed mine so that it would fall across both nipples… and to my delight, I succeeded. Karena’s scream was one of the purest agony. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her mouth gaped wide. I thought for a moment she was going to pass clean out but the stimulant potion must still have been having effect. Alongside, Zena’s scream was equally horrendous and I could not help grinning as I saw that Miralda had aimed at the same target and also succeeded. “I think,” I said, “we’d better have Leo standing by with his little smoking sticks.” I think Miralda had forgotten he was there. Naturally he would gain considerable pleasure from watching his former tormentors being treated in this way. She made a brusque gesture and Leo went off to get the acrid twigs into action. Miralda and I employed the same unhurried tactics as before, spacing the strokes as close together as possible, working from the top of the breasts downwards (the nipples getting a second bite of the whalebone!) but it was difficult to be accurate in view of the way the soft breast-flesh bounced and rolled frenziedly. Karena fell insensible just before I reached the lowest part of her breasts. I signed to Leo to approach and she was soon choking back to the real world. I went on caning her, now laying the strokes diagonally, noting that Miralda was doing the same. Then Zena passed out and had to be revived. The ridges blazed up from the soft white flesh, crossing and crisscrossing. Karena fell insensible again, yet I had her revived once more and resumed my assault. When she fainted a fourth time, even the smoking twigs could not revive her. Zena had gone again, I saw. “We’ll have to give them a break,” said Miralda. “I guess you’re right …” “Just leave them where they are. Let them come round in their own time, eh?” “Fine,” I smiled. “What a happy awakening!” Miralda slumped on to a couch. She was breathing rather fast. “Let’s have a drink,” she said. “Eau de Vie?”“Perfect,” I said. Miralda snapped her fingers and soon a cringing Leo was serving us small glasses of the strong spirit. He must have realised by then that as far as Mistresses were concerned, he had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire!

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