For my Lord

Chapter 18 – The Picnic

my Lord returns from another business trip and i am brought up from the cellar. There is to be a picnic for my Lord, His Lady and about half a dozen invited guests.

Together with the maid, i am taken out to the middle of the forest where a table and chairs have been set up and the picnic party are already assembled. Of course, the maid and i are there merely for the entertainment of the party.

Before the food is served to the party, we are hung from our ankles between two trees and whipped until we are both hoarse from screaming. i am made to kneel with my wrists tied between my legs and i am flogged while the poor maid is tied over a fallen tree and cruelly caned until her ass is reduced to raw meat and the blood is flowing. 

Then after a rest while the party eat Their meal, it is announced that there is to be a race between the maid and i. Having been made to kneel, wooden beams are hoisted onto our shoulders and our arms stretched out and our wrists tied to the beams, further ropes are then looped around our necks.

The order comes for us to get to our feet, but the beams are heavy and i struggle to stand. Looking across, i can see that the maid, who is smaller than me, is also having difficulty in standing under the weight of the beam. But she is younger than i am and, of course, she is not three months pregnant. Finally we are both on our feet, swaying under the weight of the beams and we are instructed to follow a marked path across open grass and into the woodland where the path loops round until we emerge to a home straight, back across the open grassland. 

Just to add motivation, both the maid and i are to be followed by one of the men of my Lord’s staff, in my case it is to be The Dog Handler while The Chauffeur is behind the maid. Both Men are wielding crops to be used if we go too slowly.

At the signal, the maid and i start off; we are both staggering under the weight on our shoulders, but the maid moves off surprisingly quickly and i am being left behind. ‘There is no need to worry,’ i think, ‘she is sure to find it hard on the woodland paths as she is not used to being barefooted as i am.’ And sure enough, i catch her up as we both struggle and fall several times on the rough path. Before long i am right behind her, but the path is narrow and there is no way that i can get past her.

we are both gasping for breath and sweating profusely as we emerge from the woods. This is my chance and i move to the side so that i can pass her. Unfortunately, i misjudge the width of the wooden beam on my shoulders and do not allow enough room. The beams collide; the maid staggers but keeps on her feet while i go down on one knee. That is all the maid needs and i can only watch as she collapses over the finishing line while i trail in ten metres behind.

The maid is rewarded by being allowed to suck the cocks of both Men while i am tied, stretched between two trees to receive a further whipping, one hard stroke every minute until the maid finishes serving The Men.

Later, The Men of the party enjoyed Themselves fucking the pair of us, ignoring the fact that we are both totally exhausted. To make it worse for us, They all wear ribbed, knobbed condoms which bring screams and cries for mercy from our mouths. Especially the maid seems to suffer as she is begging and crying when They hang her from a tree with her legs spread wide and fuck her pussy and ass holes. The poor girl is no pain-slut.

By the time They have finished with us, we are both lying on the ground, sobbing and exhausted. The Men have to carry us back to the house and I am taken to my sparse little room/cell and lain on the narrow bed. After a while, The Doctor appears and examines me. Pronouncing the baby to be healthy, He gives me an injection, “something to help me sleep,” He says.

He packs away His equipment, then pats me on the head and says, “Next time, girl. I’ll have you next time!” And with that, He leaves the room, the door locking behind Him and the light going off leaving me lying in the dark. Within seconds i fall into a deep sleep, but not before fingering myself to a climax.

Chapter 19 – The Maid Escapes

Life for the maid is hard. She has many household duties; sometimes she works for almost ten hours a day. Besides that she has to fulfil the needs of the Lady and often her friend, Angel. Both are very demanding and treat the maid harshly. She comes from East Europe, a very poor country where her wages go to support her family. Her family depends on her and it is rumoured that she has a child there. She doesn't speak the language well and none here speak hers. For the men in the household she is a toy for Their sexual needs, when i am not
available for Them. But, she is not a slave and i understand that at least she receives good wages, much better than she could earn as a maid in a normal household.

The maid begins to come to me in my bed, during the evenings when i am not required to serve my Lord or confined in my cage, clearly she needs comforting. She is pretty and i can’t help but cuddle and caress her shapely body. She doesn’t resist me, not even when i push my fingers deep into her pussy, ending with my entire fist inside her. Using all my skills, i fist the maid to an orgasm. But, embarrassed and full of shame, the maid hides her head under the blanket, but that only gives me the opportunity to pull her mouth to my own greedy juicy hot fuckhole. Shyly she gives me an embarrassed smile; no doubt happy i show her some sisterly affection and knowing that she will not be beaten by me.

As the weeks go on, the maid gets more and more desperate and is clearly deeply unhappy. But there is no way out for her, except escape, of course. This is not really an option as the house is surrounded by a moat and she is never allowed to leave the house alone. During this time i become fond of the maid and feel protective towards her, like a little sister that i never had.

It is a surprise that she is to attend the Historical Day. Held every couple of years, there is in the nearby village, a medieval fancy fair. The whole day is arts and crafts, re-enactments of Medieval jousts, workshops, etc. Recalling my one experience of this Day, i shudder at the memory of the humiliation, gang-bangs, pain and torture, but then there was a good fuck too, in the evening with my Lord himself.

On the Day, The Butler takes the maid and i out to the stables, the maid is clearly unaware of what is going to happen, and we are given ragged old plain dresses to put on, bare footed and no underwear, of course. Old dog collars are fastened around our necks and leashes attached to the rings on the collars. Then our wrists are tied behind our backs and we are led out by our leashes to a farm wagon with one of my Lord’s men sitting up on it. The leashes are fastened to the back of the wagon and, at a signal from The Butler, the wagon sets off for the village, dragging us two unfortunate females behind it as the watching personnel mock us.

The wagon arrives in the village, where the old centre is decorated in the old style. The villagers, knowing what is happening, cheer and roar when they see the two females pulled along at the back of the wagon; newcomers look on, surprised and curious. The men shout mocking, lewd comments, some grab at our tits and asses as we pass. The wagon driver and a "guard" wave them away, but with a smile on their faces. Again this year will be a success.

The wagon stops in a sort of park, where the horses are released and some village men are assembled. They move around us bound females and suddenly there is a whisper: "let’s whip them as a start."

"Yeah," someone replied, "actually they are only low sluts who need a lesson."

At these words we are grabbed, stripped from our dirty dresses and each forced down to kneel with our backs against the wheels of the wagon and our wrists are bound to the wheels, arms up.

Two or three men position themselves in front of each of us, all of them wielding a crop, a belt or an improvised whip made from flexible twigs. They all start to lash us randomly. As i am accustomed to public floggings, i grit my teeth and try to bear the lashes as best i can, but before long i am screaming as They rain down the lashes on my body. And soon i am jerking and writhing on the ground as i try, in vain to escape the cruel lashes.

The maid, unused to be publicly abused and she immediately cries and shouts. She pulls at her restraints; to no avail, of course. The men laugh and cheer, as the fronts of Their captive’s bodies become red and criss-crossed with welts and shiny wet from sweat under the sun.

The Men are clearly not used to whipping a female and, probably having been drinking, They lose all control. Mercilessly and at random, They whip and belt their poor victims. They display no technique, no aim, and allow no respite for the maid and i to catch our breath. The fear mounts in my mind that They could easily do us serious damage or even flog us to death, as They cheer each other on and show no restraint in Their acts.

Fortunately the leader of the Historical Days shows up and angrily commands The Men to stop the abuse, telling Them that the maid and i are needed for the rest of the day too, and are not only here for the fun of these men! Shyly, embarrassed The Men look down, but all have obvious hard-ons in Their pants.

For me this is a surprising occurrence as never before in my life as a slave has a man been admonished and prevented from inflicting suffering on me.

Without a word to us, we are released, given our dresses to put back on and our wrists retied behind our backs. With our ragged grey dresses on, leashes are attached to our collars and we are led towards the village square by The Man who rescued us.

As we follow, i can’t help but speak up, “Thank You Sir, for saving us from Those Men.”

“Perhaps you can show me how grateful you are later,” He said half turning towards me.

“Yes Sir, of course Sir, i look forward to that, Sir,” i said, lowering my eyes.

“And what about your little friend, is she grateful too?”

“Yes Sir, i’m sure she is, but she doesn’t speak the language very well, she’s from Eastern Europe, Sir. And she shouldn’t be involved today; she’s not a slave like me, Sir.”

“I don’t know about that, His Lordship sent the pair of you so that’s too bad for her.”

And with that He turns away and continues leading us until W/we reach a platform that is set up in front of the village church.

Seated on the platform is a Man, wearing the robes of a Judge. The maid and i are led in front of The Judge and are ordered to kneel. Being used to this, i comply immediately and bow my head. The maid is slow to obey and a Guard kicks the back of her legs, roughly pushing her down onto her knees. A crowd has quickly gathered and They cheer enthusiastically as the maid is forced to her knees.

It appears that there is to be a re-enactment of a trial from Medieval times and the maid and i are the accused of being whores and seducers of good men. A list is read out of the offences that we are supposed to have committed. As the evidence against us is clear, we are not permitted to plead our case and, quickly, we are condemned to two hours of public exposure in the pillory as an example to others.

Guards grab us and drag us to two pillories in the centre of the square. There, we are forced to bend and our necks and wrists locked into the holes in the pillory boards.

Almost immediately, the mocking starts. Children throw clumps of mud or rotten eggs, tomatoes and vegetables, some of them moving round to the side and aiming at our tits, which are hanging down as we are bent over and soon we are both filthy and smell terrible. Meanwhile, the adults hurl insults at us, calling us whores, sluts and other degrading names. Tears are falling from the maid’s eyes as she is not accustomed to such treatment, but, of course, i am used to abuse and being called a slut and a whore is nothing new to me.

For about two hours, we are confined in the pillories, we are filthy and exhausted and some people even come up and slap us or grope our bodies, at one time, even a dog raises His leg and pisses against my leg. And before the two hours are up our dresses have been ripped leaving us both nearly naked and both the maid and i have pissed ourselves, to the amusement of the crowd.

In the distance, i can see my Lord with The Lady and Angel, strolling among the crowds. They do not approach, but several times i notice my Lord glancing in our direction, no doubt enjoying the humiliation of His slave.

The degradation is almost too much to bear and i am pleading for mercy, while the maid is mumbling something that i cannot understand. But the onlookers are obviously enjoying our humiliation and cheer whenever some new indignity is heaped on us.

Finally, the two hours are up and we are released from the pillories and taken to the village “prison” for a short break.

The maid and i are kept in a cell and given water and hard pieces of bread to eat. Again, the maid hugs me for comfort. If only i could tell her that the worst is over, but i fear that is not the case and that we will have to endure harsher ordeals before the day is out.

Unable to resist this beautiful girl, i stroke her back, my hand sliding lower and lower until i am parting her ass cheeks and i feel my own cunt lubricating in my lust.

But before we can get too carried away, two Guards enter the cell, roughly grab us and lead us to an interrogation room. As They lead us along a dark passage towards the interrogation room, They delight in explaining that there is to be a demonstration of how two witches would be questioned in Medieval times. Of course the maid didn’t understand, but i tremble in fear, knowing too well, that this will mean harsh treatment. By questioning, They mean, of course, torture!

Once in the room, the remaining shreds of the ragged dress are torn from my body and i am forced onto the rough wooden bed of a rack. The Guards quickly lock my ankles into two wooden blocks, stretching my legs wide apart, and my wrists are pulled over my head and fastened into iron shackles which are attached to a large wooden drum with a large wheel at one end.

One of the Guards turns the wheel until my arms and legs are stretched and pull on my joints until it feels as though they will be dislocated and my body is several inches above the wooden bed of the rack. At this moment, the doors are opened and about a hundred or so people, mostly men but quite a few women, come in and take their places on tiered viewing platforms.

Meanwhile the maid is bound; her back across a raw wooden beam, her legs widespread, her ankles tied to rings in the floor, and her arms spread and tied to rings in the floor too. Her body is arched over the beam, her head dangling down, face backwards, she moans and begs in her own language.  

A narrator welcomes the audience and explains what They are about to see. “It is around 400 years ago and persecution of supposed heretics and witches is taking place throughout Europe. Spain, of course had the well known Inquisition, but it was happening in Germany, France, England and Scotland, and right here in this locality.

A person, more often than not a woman, could be denounced and arrested on the flimsiest evidence and, once in custody, her fate was sealed. She would be cruelly tortured for many hours, often over several days until, unable to resist, she would confess to her supposed crimes. She would then be executed.

Fortunately for our two witches today, they will only be made to suffer for about an hour and they will not be executed at the end,” He laughed, and the audience laughed along with Him.  

The wheel is turned once more and my body stretched even more, causing me to shriek loudly. Hot wax from several thick candles is poured over my tits and my exposed cunt. Then i am flogged on my tits and thighs; fortunately They avoid my swollen belly, and my tits are pinched with cruel looking pincers. At least the pincers had not been heated in the brazier!

The Narrator continues addressing the audience, “When two or more suspected witches from the same coven were to be questioned, one would usually be made to watch as the other was interrogated, then the interrogators would switch from one to the other, increasing the psychological torment. However, for your convenience, ladies and gentlemen, today we are questioning both witches at the same time.” 

A Medieval torture pear is shown to the audience, and to me. The Narrator demonstrates how this evil device works and i cringe as i remember such an instrument being used on me all that time ago in the torture museum. The audience gasp as the pear is placed at the entrance to my gaping cunt and is roughly forced inside me, bringing an animal like scream to my lips. As the pear is opened and my poor cunt is stretched horribly, my screams fill the room. Unable to move, i cannot even writhe and squirm in my agony.

They move away for a few moments, letting my agony sink into my very being. To try to tolerate the pain, i try listening to the comments from the audience.

A woman’s voice, “this is so realistic, the way those actresses truly look like they are being tortured; they must be very good.”

“they are not actresses.” A man replies, “I don’t recognise the girl bent over the beam but the one on the rack, that’s cumface. She’s a slave owned by a His Lordship from the grand manor house nearby.”

“Slave? But this is Europe in the twenty-first century; people don’t own slaves in this day and age!”

“It’s true. I’ve been there when she was whipped. I’ve never seen anything so erotic, she is so sexy when she screams and writhes in pain.”

Another woman joined in, “I heard that she came from England… or was it Ireland; yes, she came from Ireland and surrendered herself voluntarily to be His Lordship’s slave.”

“Huh, voluntarily? The slut’s getting all she deserves then!”

The Narrator has moved to the maid and He is describing her ordeal as it happens. “her mouth is forced open and a large funnel is shoved in. While one of the interrogators holds the funnel in place, another holds a bucket filled with brackish water and pours it into the funnel. This forces her to drink and she gets the feeling of drowning. Her belly swells terribly and her body bucks in the restraints. In vain she tries to thrash her head this way and that in an attempt to avoid the dirty water, as the cruel torturers hold her head firmly. At the same time, her large tits are abused with pincers and pliers.
Our witches are lucky it isn’t for real, but just for the show. In a real witch questioning their agony would be much worse.”

The audience applaud and cheer for having been entertained by such an authentic Medieval show.

The maid and i are released and led into a cell for tea break. Ah, tea, it is so long since i have tasted it, i have been allowed only water to drink during my time of enslavement. Now, it tastes wonderful, so soothing and refreshing. But the maid is nearly hysterical and she throws herself into arms. While i hug and comfort her, i manage to interlace our legs, and while hugging the maid i ride on the maid’s thigh, quickly bringing myself to a climax; silently as not to alert the maid.

Not long after that, we are taken and led into another room and i realise that there is work for us to do. The Guards delight in telling us that Men have paid a charity fee and for that They are allowed to have their way with us.

First, the maid is led to a low metal frame and she is forced down and restrained, her ass high, her face flat on the cold floor as if she was nothing but fuck-meat. She blabs in her language, probably begging, but of course, her unintelligible pleas are ignored. Next to this frame is a low pillory whereto i am led. The Guards force and bend me backwards on to it, my face and belly up and my head and wrists were put in the grooves and the block closed. In this position my head is hanging down and my hair sways beneath me. One of the Guards gathers my hair and ties a cord into it; He then ties the other end of the cord to a ring set into the floor. In this way, i have little movement of my head and i know that i am nothing more than three holes to use. With my head dangling backwards and my knees spread wide, i am a perfect fuck-object.

There is a clamour from the Men waiting impatiently the door, ready to rush in and get at Their victims; the maid and the slave.

Cheering and shouting the men take their position at the two offered whores. There is a row for the maid and two rows for me, as my mouth is available as well as my gaping cunt. At once, one man positions Himself on the maid and penetrates her cunt, without warning or foreplay. The maid cries and screams in her unknown language. But of course it doesn’t stop the man fucking her. When He is finished, His place is soon taken by the next and so on. Some of Them are a little drunk and sometimes they just take her, regardless which hole. “Luckily” for her, after a few fucks she is well enough lubricated so her impalements are not too painful.

One after another, The Men easily position themselves between my spread knees, and holding me by my waist, They bang my cunt. One after the other, my cunt or sometimes my ass, are endlessly used by a row of many men. Jizz oozes from my holes, dripping along my thighs between my ass cheeks. Their cocks are enveloped by my cunt like it is a glove. Although i am not permitted, i take the risk and after the second or third penetration i orgasm silently, my lustful grunts of pleasure muffled by a pumping cockhead deep in my throat. The men at my head use both hands to hold my neck or the pillory as They force themselves deep into my gullet, ripping open my throat and finally They shoot their wad into my mouth. As They fuck my mouth, Their balls swing in front of my eyes or bang against the bridge of my nose. For me it isn’t too bad, i have had to endure far harsher treatment in the past. But the maid continuously screams and cries. For most of The Men, her screams just increase their lust.

All at the sudden between the waves of frenzied men there is a dead moment that allows me to see something strange. A rather shabby, sleazy man is about to penetrate the maid when she, at that moment starts to shout out in her own language, maybe insults, maybe pleas, of course, i don’t understand. But at that moment The Man stops in his movement, bends forward and speaks with her, presumably in her own language as she appears to understand Him. Nervously she speaks hastily with Him, and He seems to comfort her somewhat as both conspiratorially speak to each other. Then they seem to agree something and He continues his penetration of her arse. She doesn’t cry anymore, and she even appears to be somewhat relieved.

There is no time to think about the unusual event, as soon again many Men enter the room and the multiple penetrations start again. Again i drool saliva mixed with hot sperm from the corners of my mouth, some of the spunk even comes out of my nose, and the mixture runs down my face and into my hair. And again my cunt and arse muscles are on duty. The row of Men waiting to use the maid and me seams endless, but the maid no longer screams and cries.

All of a sudden, while a thick cock is pounding my dripping cunt, someone unties my hair and pulls a black hood over my head. Then the hood is tightly tied around my neck and locked to my collar. It is now for impossible for me to see what is happening around me, and my face is completely hidden. As at that moment, i am near a climax, i now let myself go, as no-one can see; my hips bucking and gyrating naturally.

The lust within me subsides and then i freeze. The voices from some Men entering the room are from... from... my uncle! And... Oh my god no… two of my brothers! No, no this can’t be true! This is a nightmare! What are They doing here?

Silently i pray that they will choose the maid, to no avail as to my absolute horror, i hear my oldest brother, Daniel, say: “Look here, look at this bitch, with the brandings, let’s take her.”

“You are damned right, Dan. Go on, you have first stab at her.”

“Looks like quite a few have been there already.” Another voice i recognise, my cousin Liam.

‘This isn’t true, this can’t be happening,’ i think, panicking within my hood. But of course it is happening and i must stay silent; i can’t let Them find out that it is me here in this terrible predicament.

“What is that 92 mean?”

“Dunno, not her age, I think,” laughed Uncle Sam. 

Within my chest, my heart is thumping as, not knowing that it is me, They grope and mould my tits and my exposed body. Hands touch and stoke me and i tremble in shame and fear as one of Them moves between my thighs. Of course, i have no idea which one of Them it is but the answer comes immediately as a different voice, my youngest brother, Michael shouts, “Go Dan, Go!”

A huge cock, but not of course like my Lord’s cock, at once thrusts deeply into my cunt and bangs right to my cervix. Clenching my teeth, it is all i can do to refrain from lust while my Brother’s hands grip around my waist. His hips rock between my thighs, His balls slapping against my ass cheeks. This is terrible; pregnant, fucked by brother, while watched by another of my Brothers, my Uncle and my Cousin. Tears pour from my eyes and mix with the spunk on my face from all the earlier face-fucking that i have endured, while They tease and trace my brand marks, mocking the slut, who is, unknown to Them… their sister!

Oh god, i have reached the very depths of depravity and degradation. Even the horse impaling my cunt was not this humiliating, nor the dogs. If i could, i would take a hundred whipping rather than this. But it gets worse, my Brother, Dan, takes his time, rhythmically fucking my cunt with long deep strokes, pulling out, and re-entering, His cock-head each time rubbing my already swollen clit. The unbelievable happens, my lust builds again. Trying to fight my emotions, being fucked by my Brother, and my sexual lust increasing, i manage to keep some level of control at the right moment when Dan shoots His load deep in my already flooded cunt, which brings cheering and applause from the others.

Then the next takes Dan’s place. It is Cousin Liam penetrating me, and i can’t stop a groan escaping from my mouth. “Wow, she loves it!” exclaims Liam immediately. His hands grope my tits, his nails digging painfully deep into my tender tit- flesh, and his hips bang against me. Although Liam’s fucking is rough, my lust builds back again, proving that i must be the lowest degraded slut possible.

Fucking faster than Dan, He soon comes. All the time, i am silently begging that this ordeal would soon be over, but no, now it is my youngest brother, Michael’s turn. In fact, for a moment, i think myself lucky that my two other brothers are not here also. But i moan silently as, when left home to become my Lord’s slave, Michael was young and still a virgin. Hopefully, he isn’t now.

“C’mon boy, the way is well prepared for you,” my Brother, Uncle and Cousin cheer Michael as He experiences the first fuck in His life. Like a puppy dog He fucks me in a frenzied assault. But my degradation continues as my lust is high, excited by the idea that my cunt is the first my young Brother has penetrated. Involuntarily my cunt muscles work to draw the best from His cock. If i am to be His first, the better to make it good for Him. Hidden in the hood i finally come, together with Michael, who shoots his hot jizz in a female’s hole for the very first time.

Finally Uncle Sam takes His place between my thighs and, although He is quite old, He must be aroused by what He has seen as He quickly adds His spunk to the cocktail that fills my cunt.

All of Them having had Their way with me, They wander off, saying that They need a beer and, maybe, a chance to pick up some local girls.

After They left, again a queue forms of Men wanting to use the maid and me. Strangely enough the hood is removed, as if the guards watching over us knew that it was my family. Had it been a setup? There is no time to think about it as many cocks take my cunt and my mouth. But events are hazy; so many men have fucked me that i can no longer focus. Maybe a half an hour later, some ten men maybe, i lost count long ago, the maid and i are finally used by the guards before we are released from our bonds.

Finally, after all those hours of solid fucking, the maid and i are incapable of anything and we both just curl up on the floor, i am sobbing from shame and pain, but, the maid seems calm and, strangely, she does not move to me for comfort, or even look in my direction. But we are allowed only a moment to rest before we are dragged to our feet and led outside.

Without being permitted the possibility for cleaning ourselves, we are taken into the execution backyard. The people we pass mock us as we are both covered with spunk which makes our thighs and legs, and my face, gleam. Surprisingly, the maid stays calm and says nothing; her eyes even have a certain hopeful glow.

Once out in the yard, we are both forced to lie down on a wooden cross and our arms, wrists and armpits are roped to the broad wooden beams. Then with some strong hands, the crosses are raised and both of us are hanging on the cross. The Men and then the visitors, who paid a lot for this part of the day, cheer and mock the punished whores’ execution.

The Narrator explains to the gathering crowd, “Normally in the old days, the wrists and the instep of the feet were nailed to the cross in order to increase the agony. As the victim hangs, the lungs have great difficulty to breathe, and the weight of the body hangs on the spiked wrists. In order to get some air, the victim would push up with the feet, which causes unbearable pain on the feet. The whole day it is push up, fall down; an extremely painful exercise. The victim, only in the beginning, is able to beg for mercy; later he or she can only gasp for little air. Finally a day or so later the victim is so totally exhausted that he or she suffocates by lack of air. Sometimes as act of mercy the knees or legs were smashed with a heavy stick to prevent the victim from pushing themselves up, so death was precipitated.”

The audience look on in interest and applaud the realistic demonstration of the executions of two whores. Both of us indeed do the push ups as described by The Narrator. But as our death is not wanted, only our suffering, a tapered peg is mounted on each cross, which slides into our arses and stops our downward movements but adds another element to our agony as it stretches our tight holes unbearably. Still, of course, we are both experiencing terrible agony; very much to the liking of the audience, some of them getting very excited at the sight of our terrible suffering. The aching on the shoulders, in my case so much worse due to the stretching i underwent earlier, the gasping breathing, all excite and amuse the crowd.

All the time i am hanging, exposed and in terrible pain on the cross, i am also suffering mental anguish; constantly scanning the crowd and praying that my Brothers, Uncle and Cousin do not return. Also, i hope to see my Lord, so that He can see and be pleased by the suffering that i am enduring, for Him.

After an hour and a half, although it feels like an eternity, we are both lowered and released from the crosses. Both of us have no strength left and we collapse and lie on the ground. But we allowed no respite as The Narrator, with four or five helpers grab us and drag us out of sight, into a kind of stable, used also for refreshing the workers on this day. Although totally worn out and exhausted, i notice from the corner of my eye that the maid is sort of smuggled out by a side door by the creepy man who was talking to her earlier. Too tired, and maybe from a kind of sisterly loyalty i don’t say anything.

The men who dragged us into here are talking among themselves, after a hard day of work what is better than a little distraction with the whore, cumface? So again i am prey for these men who lay me over a rough wooden table. i whimper as yet again my holes are filled with pumping cocks. By now i am fully worn out, my cunt red raw and my throat battered and bruised. But, if the maid has really escaped, then i want to give her the best chance i can so, in order to keep their attention, i react to the men with as much enthusiasm as my battered body can muster.

But the men couldn’t care less and bang me ruthlessly; They are followed by a pit bull owned by one of the men, which brings loud cheers and drunken mocking. It is too much for me; all this usage and torture all day long with very little rest; the fucking by my family men, followed by this ultimate humiliation. A terrible nausea comes over me and i throw up. But that doesn’t stop the men; one yanks my hair and smears my face through the dirt.

At that moment, my Lord’s men come from the manor to fetch me. Two men grab me by the shoulders and drag me like a sack of potatoes to a van and throw me into the back, tossing a dirty ragged dress in after me, which i gratefully pull on.  Nobody seems to give a thought about the maid.

The van stops in the courtyard of the manor. They drag me out and, exhausted as i am, they make me kneel. The men who brought me home are about to leave when The Butler comes in. He looks at me, but then asks, “Where is the maid?”

The men look at each other, a little sheepishly: “Well, erm…”

“What?” barks The Butler. “You,” he turns and barks at me, “where is the maid?”

With my eyes downcast and my head bowed, i answer, “please forgive me, Mr
Butler, Sir, but i am only a slave.”

Barely is the sentence finished when The Butler punches and slaps me in the face sending me sprawling on the ground with a yelp.

“You bloody slut,” and he grips a fistful of my hair and drags me, screaming, into the barn.

The Butler kicks an old rusty drum onto its side and throws me over it. One of the men binds my ankles to rings set in the ground, my legs spread wide. He then does the same with my wrists so that i am stretched out, face down over the drum. Without waiting or warning, The Butler starts to whip me with a thick bullwhip. The dress already ripped, is soon shredded from the whipping. Full of rage, The Butler uses much force to lay on the whip lashes, i scream until i am hoarse, but to no avail.

The Butler barks another command and another rusty drum is shoved just under my head, filled with brackish water. The nightmare is becoming worse. While the whipping intensifies, each stroke heavier, breaking the skin where the whip catches previous stripes, a helper pushes my head under the water. No way can i escape; my body barely bucks in this position, just squirms slightly as my head is held firmly under the dirty water. With my lungs burning, i feel sure that i will drown but just then i am pulled out and like a drowned cat i gasp for air just twice before i am pushed under again. And meanwhile the whippings cut open my back, my upturned ass, thighs and calves. Lungs exploding as i am pulled out the water, i manage two gasps of air, and before i can beg, i am pushed under for a third time.

Suddenly i panic, this punishment, this torture is far beyond anything i have been trained for. The searing pain in my lungs, the escaping air, the agony of the non stop bullwhip, the pregnancy, i feel certain this is the end. Under water, my eyes bulge in the darkness and the overwhelming pain leads me into another world. On that point of surrender, my head is pulled out of the water and i hear, as if from another world, the voice of my Lord, my Savour: “What is this?”

The Butler mutters something about the maid’s escape, but my Lord is angered: “she is a slave. Free her and bring her safe to her cage,” He continues. “You, call the doctor,” He said to someone.

Later, i am vaguely aware of being taken out of my cage and i feel The Doctor examining me and applying some soothing ointment to the welts on my body.

Realising that The Doctor has finished with me, i mutter my thanks. Turning to my Lord, He continues, “she will be alright, give her a week and she will be like before.”

This has been just about the most difficult day of my slavery, both physically and emotionally. The torture and humiliation has been relentless and has tested the limits of my endurance and being fucked by the men of my family has taken me to new depths of degradation. And now, alone in my cage and in the dark, i break down in floods of uncontrollable tears. Although we could not communicate very well, the maid and i were a comfort for each other. If she does manage to escape, then i am pleased for her; she was so unhappy, but already i am missing her.

The words of the Woman watching as i was stretched on the rack keep coming back to me; “The slut’s getting all she deserves.” Of course, i know that the Woman was absolutely correct; i do deserve this pain and degradation. There is no-one to blame but myself.

The only bright spot of the day was how my Lord rescued and protected me from the cruel assault inflicted on me by The Butler.

But, suddenly, a horrible thought came into my head. Cousin Liam had, apparently been present at the party on the day of the hunt. Although i could hardly walk after being fucked by so many Men, and Dogs, i had been paraded through the crowd. If Liam was really there, He would have seen me and the words burnt into my belly flesh. He would have seen those branded words today and would have known it was me bent back in that pillory.

He didn’t say anything, but surely He must have known it was me. Perhaps He was content to fuck me. When W/we were younger, back in Ireland, He was always pursuing me, and, to be honest, it was only the fact that W/we were cousins that stopped me succumbing to Him. He is a good looking Man. But He made it clear that He resented my resistance to Him.

The last vestiges of my dignity have been torn from me and a fresh wave of tears comes as i huddle in my cage and eventually, i cry myself to sleep.  

Next day, i am taken from my cage by The Gardener and hosed down, being given some old rags to dry myself. Then i am taken by The Butler to the small cell down in the dungeon. The Butler snarls, as He locks the door, that He has unfinished business with me; presumably, He blames me for when my Lord rebuked Him for bullwhipping me.

Bowls of food and water are on the floor and i realise how hungry and thirsty i am, having had hardly anything all day yesterday. Instinctively, i drop to my knees and elbows and lower my face to the food dish. So used am i to eating in this way, that it never occurs to me to pick up the bowl, even though i am alone, locked in my cell.

Having finished the food and water, i climb into the hard, narrow bed and sleep. For the next few days, i am asleep for most of the time. At times, i am taken out and allowed to walk in the gardens, for a little longer each day, and i receive regular meals, meagre but nourishing.

Gradually, i am recovering from the ordeal of The History Day and The Doctor visits to check up on me. He is satisfied with my progress but He doesn’t use my holes either time.

Nights are spent locked in my cell and i find that even on the first night i can’t help but masturbate myself to multiple orgasms, proving the whore i am.

On about the fifth day, while i am in my cell, i hear voices so i look out through the bars of the door. To my dismay, it is the maid and The Creepy Man. The maid is brought in by The Butler and locked into another cell. The maid is a very sorry sight; she seems distant, unaware of her surroundings and she walks very stiffly, as though she has been horse riding for a long time. Her nude body is covered with bruises and scratches and her eyes are red and puffy, as if she has been crying or has not slept for quite a while, or both! Then i see The Butler hand The Creepy Man a wad of banknotes. The Creepy Man smiles maliciously and leaves. The Butler mumbles something to the maid, and that probably wasn’t good, as i suspect that He wants His revenge for the humiliation after whipping me.

Later in the day, as i am on one of my permitted exercise walks, i hear that the maid hadn’t escaped at all, but had been taken to a factory shed, where was handed to the shift workers from a nearby factory. Each shift was about 20 to 25 men, and there were three shifts a day. Most degrading for the maid was that most of the workers came from her own country. ‘What would happen to the maid now?’ i wonder, ‘will she be put back to work again?’

About a week later, i am more or less recovered and i am released from my cell, and for me, things seem to go back to normal. But the maid remains locked up in her cell. Since she has been returned, she hasn’t spoken to me, or to anyone.

But then, one day, everyone is summoned to go to the main room. The room is mainly used for parties, meetings and conferences. On this day the furniture seem to be arranged like a courtroom, which, i overhear someone say was one of its uses in the old days. In the middle is clearly the judge's bench, dark brown expensive wood, high and overlooking all. In the middle would be the defendant's dock but here it is a wooden post, on the left the jurors and on the right the witnesses. Angel is between the post and the jurors and is apparently acting as the prosecutor.

The maid is brought in, naked and tied to the post, her wrists over her head and behind the pole, her ankles are tied behind the pole too, so her body is arched and displayed to the public. Her bruises and scratches have faded but she still appears traumatised by her treatment.

The audience, household staff and villagers, the jury, witnesses, including me, The Butler, everyone is here, but the Judge.

Then, "All rise", and my Lord enters the room and takes His seat at the judge's bench.

Then starts a mock trial about the escape of the maid. Numerous witnesses all give evidence, even me. To protect the maid, i am very vague, saying that i hadn’t seen anything. It takes about an hour for the trial. In that time it looks as though the maid does not understood what is happening. Then after an hour the trial is over, the jury pronounced a verdict of guilty, and His Lordship withdraws to consider the punishment. When He comes back and again takes His seat, He looks all over, and at the maid, in particular.

Just as His Lordship is about to start pronouncing out his verdict, i remember that once He asked me whether i would be prepared to assist Him to kill or execute the maid. Suddenly i realise that this has all been a setup and that this is the moment for all to have a snuff scene, in which i would assist to help torture the poor girl to death. All at the sudden i rush up and throw myself to His Lordship’s feet and cling to His legs, pleading and begging as never before to spare the maid's life. Foolishly, i cry that it was me who helped her to escape and that i kept it secret, so i need to be punished as well.

my Lord looks down, surprised, and then signals to the Men acting as court guards. They drag back me to my place.

His Lordship pauses, clearly pondering my ‘confession’ and then He says, "Very well, as the maid had not the real will to escape she will be punished by a double whipping of 100 lashes, followed by a bastinado.  And about cumface…" He pauses, "as she is pregnant she is less responsible for her acts, but the offence severe enough, she will be punished by the sjambok."

The sjambok! A terrible whip originating from South Africa, traditionally made from the hide of a hippopotamus or rhinoceros and used for driving oxen it is usually three to five feet in length. It is often associated with the South African police who used them for riot control etc. during the Apartheid regime, although i believe that they used a lighter plastic version.

  
The watching men grin, some females hold their breath in horror. Never have i been punished by a sjambok. The maid, of course, has no idea what is happening. On hearing the sentence, my jaw drops, i feel the blood draining from my face and i slump to the floor in a faint, so i don’t even hear how many strokes i am to receive. 

When i regain consciousness, the place where we are to be punished is already prepared. In the middle is the place where the maid is to receive her double lashing, all around, the audience is settled. The maid, whose mind is clearly in another world, is dragged in. Her legs are spread wide, and her ankles cuffed with leather and attached to rings in the floor. Her wrists are bound and her arms pulled sideways and tied to two poles, stretching her wide. At her back and front stand waiting, two hooded executioners. Their torsos bare, strong, muscular and hairy.

This scene, and the knowledge what is coming, makes the audience
excited, and i am ashamed to admit that i too find the sight of this beautiful girl so exposed and vulnerable to be extremely erotic and i am wet between my legs in view of the beautiful yet unmarked maid. Amongst the audience is, of course, His Lordship, Angel and The Butler, who cruelly grins, pleased by the idea He will get His revenge by the beatings of the two sluts who caused Him to be reprimanded. The Lady is not here.

At a sign from His Lordship, both executioners start whipping the maid methodically, in the same rhythm. Already after the first lash she screams, which soon turns to howls of pure agony. Her back and shoulders and at the same time her front, tits and belly, get quickly crisscrossed with deep stripes. Her body bucks and jerks instinctively, her head thrashes from side to side. She pulls at her bonds; in vain she tries to close her thighs. Sometimes her head hangs down, then she throws her head back, crying in the air. She is continuously lashed with the thick heavy bullwhips. The Butler gleefully counts out the strokes.

Every ten lashes they break for The Doctor to check the maid, and after the twentieth double lash, He gives her some stimulant drug in order to prevent her passing out.

Her body is gleaming with the salty sweat that runs into the welts and blistered stripes and cuts. Somewhere around the sixtieth lash, the agony is too much for the poor girl and, still with a hoarse throat she screams, but now she pisses herself. But she seems unaware; her mind is elsewhere, she is only a painslut, resuming the agony of the repeating whip, each lash crisscrossing another. Some cuts are now lightly bloody. But this is obviously not considered to be a reason to soften the beatings.

From the corner of my eye, i notice some girls being brought into the room. They are used by the excited men in the audience, using their mouths, but refraining yet from cumming. Only my Lord has no female company, but as i have never seen my Lord with another woman, except His Lady, this doesn’t surprise me. In fact, it makes me feel even more devoted to my Lord as He is able to control Himself, and uses His beautiful Cock only with His Lady; and probably not even with Her since Their wedding night, and with me, of course. To my shame, i can show no such restraint and, secretly, my hand slips between my closed thighs and presses and rubs against my wet juicy cunt, while peering between half closed eyes at the scene in front of me.

Finally at the hundredth lash, the maid body is fully crisscrossed with vivid reddish welts from her knees up to her tits, and at the back from her knee hollows up to her shoulder blades. The Doctor checks her and gives her some water to drink, and again some drugs to revive her. Her head hangs down and her breathing is nothing but a shallow rasp. Her eyes are wide open because of the drugs but they are totally unfocused, her body is shivering and trembling and glistening from the sweat dripping down and mingling with the urine which she was unable to hold in.

After a break, the maid is slightly recovered and the audience calmed down. She is released from the ropes and cuffs and dragged to a narrow raw wooden beam and thrown onto it, face up. Her legs are pulled wide apart, and shackled to a bar above her. Her wrists are bound to a pole behind her. Over her waist is a leather strap holding her firmly to the beam. Both executioners stand beside her, her open thighs nicely exposed for the audience. Both men carry a wooden baton in their hands.

At a sign from my Lord, they raise their arms and begin to beat both feet of the maid. She shrieks from pure agony. “Aaaarrgggghhh, aaaarrggghhh.” Her cries and screams are even more intense than during her whipping. Her body shudders as she struggles in vain to close her legs.

Soon her feet turn dark blue and then to black. Within her bonds she writhes and struggles, howling from agony. Again the audience get excited at the sight of the suffering of the girl. Glancing round, i see that there is no sign that my Lord will stop the beating. Elsewhere, Angel forces a girl’s face between Her thighs. A man is using both hands on a girl’s neck to force his cock deep into her throat. And as i kneel, i wriggle my cunt-lips red and swollen in arousal.

Finally and mercifully, the maid passes out. She is freed from her bonds and dragged away. She is never seen again at the house. People behind me can be overheard saying that she is to be sent to a brothel located not far away, deep in the forest where girls are kept as unwilling sex slaves and are subjected to all kinds of sadistic acts by the clients. It may be that by ‘confessing’ to helping the maid escape, i have saved her life, but have i condemned her to a life of unbearable suffering instead?

The inevitable is to come; it is my turn for to be punished. The two guards grab by my arms as i turn to face my Lord and silently beg for mercy. But He merely signals to the men to take me and i am dragged to the same beam as the maid. Made to lie face down towards the audience, my ankles are tightly bound together and taut to the beam, straps are tightened over my knees and my waist and my wrists are tied down to the supporting legs of the beam. There are cushions under my hips and my abdomen; not for my comfort, but to protect the baby in my swollen belly. In vain, i tug at my bonds, desperate to find some slack in my restraints. Lastly, a metal bar was placed under my jaws forcing my head up so that i am looking right to the audience. In that way, They can all fully enjoy my agony.

Trembling in fear, but determined not to disappoint my Lord, i brace myself against the terrible ordeal. Already i can feel myself covered with a cold sweat. But, with my body fully restrained, there is no way that i can ease my position.

Suddenly, without any warning, one after the other, the guards lash my upturned bottom and shear agony rips through my body and burns into my brain. Again and again They strike; each impact harsher than the last. After just the first blow, i scream my lungs out like an animal in pain.

“Aaaaarrgggggghhhhhhhhh.”

Although instinctively i tried to twist and turn away from the cruel sjambok, there is no way to escape the frenzied lashes as i am too tightly strapped and bound. Through my tear filled eyes, i can now only vaguely see the audience.

The men worked from my knees up to my upper back, up and down and, quickly, my body must be crisscrossed with red and purple welts, the whip cutting deeply into my soft flesh.

In my life as a slave, i have been beaten, flogged and whipped many times, but never have i experienced anything as bad as the sjambok. The nerves in my body send only pain, pain, pure pain to my brain. Screams leave my voice hoarse, but still i yell at the top of my voice. As it was my Lord who ordered this punishment, i don’t dare to beg for mercy. In His goodness and wisdom i deserve it. But after a while when my ass-cheeks have been fully mashed raw meat, the skin cut in welted stripes i retreat into subspace. The watching crowd become nothing more than a blur and i see only my Lord sitting impassively as He watches the suffering of His slave.

Momentarily, O/our eyes meet before instinctively, i lower my gaze. In my mind, i am transported away from this hideous torture bench and cruel, cruel sjambok. Instead, i am warm and comfortable in my Lord’s bed. On the recent occasions that i have been granted the privilege of sharing His bed, it has become my habit that, if i wake in the night or wake first in the morning, i slide down under the covers and kiss and lick and suck on my Lord’s lovely Cock. Usually, He will stir as His Cock hardened and thickens in my mouth and i joyfully suck until He floods my mouth with His delicious seed. Sometimes i will remain under the covers and drift off to sleep with His beautiful, magnificent Cock still in my mouth. It is here that my mind now takes me, safe and warm and comfortable instead of suffering this terrible and seemingly endless thrashing.

The sjambok continues to rip into my flesh and my body reacts as if by reflex; grunts of pain emanating from my throat, my only movements possible are my fingers stretching and spreading and then fisting. Before the whipping began, The Doctor had injected some drug, probably to prevent me from passing out. And so i must endure this terrible punishment to the bitter end.

Was it an hour later, a day or a week, i can not tell, but eventually i come out from the dark and feel how my Lord has emptied His hot seed deep in my bowels, my back and buttocks still horribly aching and sore from the punishment and the pain is even worse if i try to move. But i am in His bed, so all is well again.

Days later, the pain from the sjambok has eased considerably, but i still wince whenever i move and the welts will take a long time to heal;  lying in His bed, my head on His belly, i am softly licking, nibbling and kissing His soft but beautiful Cock, i dare to ask, "my Lord, may i speak?"

"What is it cumface?"

"Shall we once visit… the… brothel deep in the forest?"

He looks down at me, amused and indulgent, replying, while stroking my swollen belly: "Were you not carrying My Heir, you would have been killed."

"Thank you, my Lord." i reply and i continue to worship His Cock.

But i can’t help wondering what it would be like if i were ever to be sent to the brothel, perhaps while my Lord was away on business. Would i be chained to a wall in a cold dark dungeon along with the other slavegirls, made to kneel in display whenever a client came to inspect and choose one of us for His use? Or would we be kept in cages like animals. Would i ever find out?