Dahna Rules

Chapter 7

As Henry plunged into a deep, profound sleep, so his younger brother was unchained from the cart that he had been pulling all day and chained instead to a post in the stable yard.  He was filthy and stank of the horse manure he had been handling all day.  It not only covered his skin, but it was also in his hair and under his fingernails.  William himself was inured to the odour but, feeling and looking filthy, he was happy to accept the hosing down that he was about to receive at the hands of one of the other stable slaves.

A hose was turned full blast on his naked frame and although the water was cold, William relished its refreshing and reviving sting.  He did not however relish the scrubbing as the same slave, now armed with a bucket filled with disinfectant and a scrubbing brush, scrubbed Williams tender flesh until it was almost raw.  He scrubbed everywhere, including under his nails and the soles of his feet until the overseer was satisfied that William was clean.  Finally, he rinsed him off again with a blast of cold water from the hose.

Released from the post in the stable yard but with his hands now cuffed behind his back, the overseer led him away towards the palace.  Exhausted from his manual labour, William was hoping he was being led away to rest and was outwardly dejected when he found himself in the kitchens where he was chained to a large sink.  The evening meal was being prepared for the whole palace, the Royal Family, the palace staff and slaves.  The kitchens were alive with activity and William was tasked with preparing vegetables.  A large sack of potatoes was placed on one side of him and a large cauldron on the other.  A large, matronly woman approached him and placed a knife in his hand and told him to peel all the potatoes, clean them and place them in the cauldron and to be quick about it, slapping him across the buttocks to show what he would receive should he not work to the required speed.

The kitchen overseer was delighted in having a new slave under her rule and kept an eye on the Birimi boy.  Unlike other overseers, she did not have a whip on her belt she had a riding crop instead.  A whip was too dangerous in a kitchen with pots and pans on stoves but a crop was ideal.  It could be brought to bear in many different directions on all parts of the anatomy swiftly and painfully. 

Clearly, William was unused to this type of work.  His clumsy attempt at peeling the first potato brought him two strokes of the crop across his buttocks.  Not only was he slow but he had also removed too much potato along with the skin.  Another slave was called over to demonstrate the method after which he tried again with some improvement but not enough for the overseer who this time lashed the backs of his legs with the crop.  William was trying his best and yelled out in frustration bringing the sadistic worst out of the overseer who selected a potato of appropriate size and jammed it in his mouth between his teeth.  “Remove that at your peril!” she scolded him before lashing his calves with the crop.

In pain and with difficulty in his breathing, William returned to peeling the potatoes, improving his technique with each one but still not progressing fast enough for the overseer who delighted in finding new parts of his anatomy to punish.  His shoulders, his ears, his flanks and his genitals all suffered at her hands as she drove him to peel all of the potatoes in the sack.  Already exhausted from fertilising the Queen’s roses, his back aching from leaning over the sink and his arms aching from peeling the potatoes, William was working far too slowly for the demands of the matronly overseer who finally ran out of patience with him. 

Calling in another slave to finish the job, the overseer cuffed his hands behind his back and moved him over to the fire where a suckling pig was roasting on a spit.  “Keep it turning in time with that clock!” demanded the overseer, pointing at the kitchen clock “one revolution a minute!”  With his hands bound behind him, William looked at her in desperation wondering how he was to turn the roast.  The sting of the crop across each bicep and the sting of the overseer’s words got him moving.  “With your teeth idiot!” yelled the overseer and William bent forward and began turning the pig under the eagle like gaze of the overseer.

Bent forward as he was, his already aching back was killing him.  He adjusted his stance by spreading his feet wider apart so that his back was more upright.  However, in so doing he had unwittingly exposed himself to the overseer who now had a clear shot at his genitals with the crop and took full advantage of the opportunity.  He could not have been more than five seconds out in his timing but it was enough and the double blow of the crop, one to each testicle sent a dull ache up into his abdomen, making him want to vomit.

Grabbing him from behind by his now aching balls, the overseer kicked his feet even further apart and, calling over another guard, had his ankles lashed to the legs of the spit making him even more vulnerable.  She then fastened a heavy kitchen weight to his balls and adjusted the length so that with his legs bent, the weight rested on the floor but his head was now too low to fully turn the spit.  The rotating motion of his head when turning the spit set the weight swinging and the overseer placed two pans on the floor so that as long as the spit was turning, the weight on his balls would hit the pans in turn, providing a regular metronomic beat to the turning spit.  If he stopped or allowed the weight to rest on the floor, the beat would stop and she would know about it and be right over to punish him.  She then took his head in her hands and moved it around in a circle with the handle of the spit in his teeth.  She completed five revolutions at the speed she wanted the spit to be turned and then let go.  “Keep up that rhythm slave or suffer!” she hissed, landing another blow to his buttocks as she left to supervise other kitchen slaves.

Having finished scrubbing floors, George had been assigned to set the table for the Royal Family’s dinner and was busy loading a tray with cutlery when he noticed a rhythmic clanging sound coming from the kitchen.  He had no idea what it was and had learned enough to keep his mind on his allotted task and not worry about others.  Witnessing the debasing and debauching of his wife had been painful enough without the flogging he had received afterwards for having lost focus on his own task.

George was still dressed as a maid and wearing high-heeled shoes as he placed the cutlery he required on a tray that was fastened by chains to his collar and his nipples.  The outer corners of the tray were fixed to his collar and the inner corners to his nipples.  Stoically, in spite of the pain in his nipples, he turned from the dresser where the cutlery was stored and minced over to the dining table and placed the cutlery correctly, the tray becoming lighter all the time but offering little comfort to his tortured nipples that screamed in pain with every step he took in the stiletto heels.  Not only did his nipples hurt but after hours working in such ridiculous footwear, so too did his feet ache abominably.

The cutlery in place, he turned from the table and headed for the kitchen to collect the crockery.  The rhythmic clanging continued and George couldn’t help but look around the kitchen as he entered to see if he could see the cause of the noise.  What he saw stopped him in his tracks.  He looked at his youngest son with great dismay at the boy’s predicament and his son returned his gaze with a desperate look in his eyes that winced as they witnessed George suffering another beating for taking his mind off his work.  The overseer’s foot had come up sharply between George’s stocking clad legs and crunched his testicles in a sickening blow that William felt as much as he had felt the similar blow to his own genitals.

George wailed and fell to his knees clutching his crushed, aching balls.  The overseer tried to pull him up by the chains attached to the tray but only succeeded in ripping the clips off his nipples and bringing another painful wail from George’s lips while his hands now clutched his chest.  Curled into a ball, George was now rocking backward and forward, “please, please, no more” he begged but the overseer might just as well have been deaf for all the impact his pleas had.  She grabbed him by the hair and yanked him back to his feet, slapping him hard across the face several times before re-attaching the tray, now dangling from his collar, to his already tender and tortured nipples.

Sobbing now and with clumps of his grey hair now falling onto the floor at his feet, George turned back to his chores and began loading crockery onto the tray, each plate adding to his torment and each step in the stiletto heels further crucifying his already aching feet.  William sobbed too as his father struggled out of the kitchen sobbing and in obvious pain and torment, his own suffering forgotten for the moment as he wondered when, if ever, their family’s suffering would end. 

In the laundry meanwhile, the washing on the twins’ clothes lines had finally dried and to their mutual immense relief they were now tasked with pressing it, a task that neither had ever performed before but which they quickly learned for fear of further suffering.  Not that they escaped entirely, their diligent overseer was quick to pick up on any lassitude so they worked swiftly, but also rejected any item that still had the slightest crease or was not perfectly folded.  With each such mistake came a sharp blow with a cane and the promise of another when they had finally finished.

They worked independently; each chained by the ankle to an ironing board and, after a slow start, soon began to make an impression on the mountain of ironing that confronted them only to find the overseer reject a regular proportion of their finished products.  They knew it was unfair but were terrified of voicing any protest and simply repeated the job until the overseer was satisfied.

For her part, the overseer, having witnessed Queen Aliyah tormenting the girls earlier, decided she too would enjoy herself at their cost and relished the feel of young tender flesh in her hands.  As the twins tried to complete their task, not only were they hindered by the unfair rejections but also by the constant mauling of their most private parts by the overseer who insisted that they work with their legs apart, facilitating her access.

Moving frequently from one to the other, the overseer not only prolonged their stay in the laundry but she gradually heightened their arousal so that by the time they had finished their ironing they were both desperately horny and craving sexual release also.  Even though they had already been assigned to duties in Queen Aliyah’s bedroom, they still needed to be punished for their slackness and mistakes with the ironing.

The overseer had already thought of a punishment that would both meet the need for infliction of pain as well as add further to their sexual frustration.  The laundry had a number of old fashioned electric washing machines that worked with a rotating action, half turns one way and then the other.  The overseer rigged up two of these with a phallic attachment and then, with the help of other guards, raised each twin, hands bound behind their backs, onto one of the machines where they were made to kneel over its phallic attachment so that when right on their haunches it penetrated deep into their respective vaginas but when kneeling upright was tantalisingly close to escaping their vagina without them actually being able to get off it.  More laundry was added to each machine and they were then switched on. 

‘No point in wasting energy’ thought the overseer as she watched the twins’ reactions.  They were already horny and seeking sexual release so in a way the screwing action was just what they needed and their first reaction was one of pleasure as they sank down onto their haunches and accepted the phallus deep into their womb.  The overseer, satisfied that they were comfortable, then took the whip and began to administer their punishment, laying the lashes alternately across their naked breasts, already sporting bruises and rope burns from their use with the clothes line.

Now the twins reacted differently, squirming and wincing in pain with each stinging lash, moving up and down on the rotating phallus they each quickly came to an orgasm.  However, that was where their torment really began because the flogging did not stop and nor did either washing machine.  The phalluses continued to rotate back and forth, screwing the girls as they struggled to cope with the whip and get off the machine.  A second orgasm followed and then a third and they were powerless to escape the relentless screwing as each machine continued its washing cycle.

They could not contain or stifle their cries any longer and begged the overseer for release only to incur her greater wrath and an additional five lashes each to the twenty originally deemed appropriate punishment.  The girls did not know where to put themselves.  Taking the strain off their knees and they were fucked deeply, raising upright, the phallus was screwing them still but less painfully yet they did not have the strength to kneel upright so long and the motion was still bringing them ever closer to yet another orgasm until finally, mercifully, the machines reached the end of their cycle.  The girls collapsed down onto the now still phallus and had to be lifted off by the guards.  Physically and emotionally exhausted, the girls where led away from the laundry to Aliyah’s bedroom, there to suffer further as human candelabra.

Aliyah meanwhile was relaxing back in her private lounge, sipping champagne while mulling over what had turned out to be a particularly entertaining day.  Catherine, who had long since finished cleaning windows and had suffered twenty lashes at the hands of her overseer, squatted naked and motionless at the side of Aliyah’s chair, tray bearing a champagne bottle and glass in hand.  Tahlia entered, refreshed and animated at the response she had got from Henry who she was certain would capitulate and surrender to her before too long.  She had seen the puppy dog look in his eyes at the end of the day when she had left him in his cage.

Tahlia bent to kiss her mother before pouring a glass of champagne from the tray held by Catherine, totally ignoring the woman as if she was indeed just a piece of furniture.  For the moment at least, this suited Catherine who had received far more attention than she desired for one day.

The Queen of Dahna and her heir then began discussing the day’s events as if Catherine were not there, covering in detail the training of Henry and his response causing Catherine’s heart to fall into further despair at her elder son’s fate and, to listen to Tahlia, imminent capitulation.  Her mental torture increased when she heard of her daughter’s role in the laundry and future use as candelabra so that she began to weep silently, tears coursing down her cheeks.  Though she wept in silence, she was also trembling uncontrollably and the rattle of the champagne bottle on the tray soon drew the attention of the Aliyah and her daughter.

The two Dahnaians looked across at their slave but said nothing to her.  Instead, Aliyah deftly changed the subject.  “You know” she said to Tahlia, “we need something to entertain us tonight and seeing your work with the dog slaves gave me an idea.”

“Oh, and what would that be” queried Tahlia, intrigued.

“Well” said Aliyah, “You know that my best Doberman bitch is in heat and that the males have been kept away from the females so as not to interfere in the selected breeding program?”

“Yes” confirmed Tahlia, “but so what?”

“Well, the dominant male can still mate with the bitch tomorrow as planned but the other males, well, don’t you think they deserve some fun too?”

“Yes, mother but how? Please get on with it!”

“I had the vet place a tampon in the bitch’s fanny to collect some of her juices and to keep replacing it all day so that we now have enough to attract a whole pack of hounds to any bitch we chose whether she is in heat or not and there is one bitch I am thinking of that is most definitely in heat but would not attract any of our dogs without a little help.”

“Mother, you are a genius!” exclaimed Tahlia, finally seeing Aliyah’s plan and relishing the evening’s entertainment.  “Let’s do it now!”

“Calm down, not so hasty my love” interrupted Aliyah, “we have dinner in a few minutes and we have the whole evening in front of us.”

Still weeping in the space between the two Dahnaians, stoically bearing her tray, Catherine had not listened to the exchange, being too caught up in her grief at what had befallen her family.  Consequently she had no idea of what was being planned for her later that evening and, when dinner was served, dutifully got up and followed them through to the dining room where she was put to helping George, the maid, serve table.

She had never heard the monotonous clanging of the weight suspended from her son’s testicles against the pans as he turned the spit roast.  Had she done so and known what it was, there was no telling how she would have reacted save to say that it would have been badly and to her further detriment.  All she saw when entering the kitchen was her youngest son chained now to the sink once more, washing pots and pans under the gaze of an obese overseer who seemed to delight in sexually tormenting the boy.

The stroke of a cane across her buttocks brought her back to her own situation and she forced herself to forget about the boy and focus once more on the task at hand.  She and George both served dinner well, with few mistakes.  They both knew what was expected, they had set high enough standards in their own home and although serving was outside of their experience, it was not hard for them to carry it out without drama in spite of both Aliyah and Tahlia delighting in making life as difficult for them as they possibly could.  Aliyah, fondling Catherine at every opportunity, caused her to spill soup as she ladled it from the tureen into Aliyah’s bowl while Tahlia teased George relentlessly about his attire and how it suited him, also fondling his ass and tweaking his nipples to cause him to drop a spoon once and spill a drop of wine later.

With dinner finished, Aliyah insisted that the overseer cane both George and Catherine before taking the latter with her and her daughter across to the kennels.  Catherine had no idea where they were heading nor why but sensed that she should be afraid.  Nothing these two did surprised her and she could think of nothing that was beyond their capacity for cruelty.  She recalled something about the evenings entertainment in the conversation that had gone over her head and now wished she had listened, not that it would have saved her.

They entered the kennels and Aliyah turned around to Catherine and put her hand around her neck, pulling her head closer to her.  With her other hand, she began to caress Catherine’s breast as she whispered softly to her.  “You still feel horny don’t you dear?” Aliyah enquired of her slave.

Frightened to speak, Catherine simply nodded.  Though she feared the consequences of admitting to her sexual need she feared the consequences of speaking out of turn or disagreeing with Aliyah even more.

“Speak up my dear, no need to be afraid, you are among women her and we understand a woman’s needs” coaxed Aliyah.

“Y-y-yees Your Majesty” stuttered Catherine in reply.

“Then you are in the right place” confirmed Aliyah, running her fingers now along Catherines labia and feeling the moistness in her groin. 

Still unaware of exactly where she was, Catherine, although apprehensive, thought little of it when she was ordered to get down on all fours and obeyed immediately if somewhat reluctantly.  “Now, this is just to make it easier for your lover” Aliyah teased as she fastened Catherine’s wrists to bolts in the floor, “we don’t want you trying to run off now do we?”

Catherine did not answer but now felt a deep concern, especially when she felt something pushed into her vagina from behind followed by a jet of liquid issuing from whatever it was and penetrating deep inside her.  “A little aphrodisiac” explained Aliyah with a slight chuckle that unnerved Catherine all the more.

“Enjoy your evening my dear” Aliyah farewelled her slave before moving with Tahlia to a balcony overlooking the small room in which Catherine remained helplessly chained on all fours. 

“I have had the dogs muzzled for safety’s sake” Aliyah advised Tahlia as she pushed a button that raised a small door over a gateway and then sat back to watch.

One by one, with the exception of her prize Doberman, her pack of male Dobermans passed through the portal into the room where Catherine was chained at their mercy.  Catherine wailed and screamed for help as she watched the dogs approach her and begin moving and sniffing around her.  A wet nose pressed against her moist labia causing her to start and beg all the louder to be released.  However, her screams and pleas for release were ignored by both Aliyah and her daughter in their viewing gallery where they were able to control the volume coming from below as if they were watching TV.

One by one, the Dobermans, excited by the scent of a Doberman bitch on heat emanating from Catherine’s vagina, mounted Catherine and took their pleasure in her.

For her part, although initially totally disgusted at what she was experiencing, Catherine, to her horror, found herself responding to the animals and moving her body to their rhythm.

“She is actually enjoying it!” exclaimed Tahlia in delight.

“Yes, I knew she would,” agreed her mother, “you should have seen the ecstasy on her face this afternoon when the guard fucked her in the ass.  She is a real slut and will make an excellent sex slave once we tire of her.”

Catherine lost count of the number of times she was fucked by the dogs.  They had each had her more than once and both Aliyah and Tahlia had got bored with the entertainment long before the dogs tired of her.  On and on into the night, the dogs returned to fuck her again and again and each time she responded to them, moving with them, desperately seeking her own orgasms and screaming out in ecstasy when it happened. 

The Queen and Princess left the kennels and the unfortunate Catherine and retired individually to their own rooms.  Aliyah to toy with the twins that she found duly fastened to the pillars on either side of her bed with candles along their outstretched arms and held on a frame gripped between their teeth.  These latter were fixed such that they rested vertically above the girls’ nipples that, when Aliyah arrived, were already liberally covered with hot wax.  Aliyah used the candles and wax to torment the girls further until, as the last candle was extinguished, she released them from the pillars and tied them together, head to toe and left them to sleep on her floor.

Tahlia, having been aroused by watching Catherine being fucked by the dogs summoned George, deciding to have more fun with him before sleeping.  Poor George found himself sexually serving a girl young enough to be his daughter with his tongue.  “I love lesbian slaves” cooed Tahlia to her cross-dressed slave, adding further to his humiliation as he brought her to orgasm, before leaving him to sleep on her floor, chained to the foot of her bed.

Meanwhile William, having finally washed and dried all the pots, pans and dishes from dinner, found himself spread-eagled across the kitchen table, suffocating under the weight of the matronly overseer as she sat on his face and enjoyed some pleasure for herself. 

Struggling for breath under a woman he previously would never have looked at twice, William worked his tongue into her vagina, constantly being urged to greater effort by the riding crop that beat down mercilessly on his cock which, surprisingly to him, had become erect and remained erect in spite of the punishment it was receiving.  On and on he worked, sucking, licking and pushing his tongue deeper inside her until he felt he could do no more when the overseer climaxed, flooding his face with her cum.

Finally satisfied, she abandoned William, still tied across the table and retired.  “He will still be there in the morning” she told herself “and he will help me work up a good appetite for my breakfast.”  Exhausted and relieved once more to be breathing fresh air, William closed his eyes and slept. 

The Dahnaian Royal Palace was silent.