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Archive-name: Slaves/karab.txt

Archive-author: Succubus

Archive-title: 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


 "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


 "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


 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. 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-!!umriscc!!asparrow

From: (Angelia Sparrow)


Subject: Story (well, novel fragment)--Karab

Keywords: pain, pain and more pain.  MD-FS

Message-ID: <>

Date: 16 May 91 23:45:59 GMT


Organization: University of Missouri - Rolla


 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


 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


 "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


 "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


 "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


 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  I am STILL not getting any!

( 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.)


ObBondage:  Masters (mistresses) does having you slave entirely

naked (I mean hair wise) turn you on?  Why?


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