3 comments/ 34530 views/ 5 favorites Kharon By: Taunus Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ***** Kharon is nineteen years old. She has blond hair and blue eyes. How does she measure up? Her "measurements" are: 35B-25-35; 127 lbs; 5'7"; and shoe size 7. Her IQ is 155. An avatar, Kharon, has been created with ultra-high definition graphics. The Internet Cybersex Prison was destroyed. Some of the staff managed to escape and start anew. This is the story of one such BDSM haven, where Doms and Dommes sate their dark, depraved desires. This place is referred to as "The Club." It has alcoves for perverse pleasures and cages (kennels) for the slave girls. Taunus (not his real name) is the Information Technology (IT) guru for The Club. This is no small job. Taunus has never figured out the logic behind persons doing business with The Club. They seem to exhibit an attitude that ripping off The Club is socially acceptable, as it deals with Bondage, Domination, and Sado-Masochism (BDSM). Files have to be archived, Internet fees paid, employee salaries must be paid, and dues collected. Taunus frequently feels on the outside looking in. Then one of the slaves attracted his attention. Her screen name is Kharon. The management became aware of Taunus's interest and made him an offer. Taunus is to be given a free session with Kharon on her "sanitary day." One day each week each girl is cleaned and groomed. This is called her "sanitary day." On this day a girl will be taken from use and have her head hair and pubic hair sheared off, her fingernails and toenails cut, and her teeth brushed. She is given a chemical bath to kill parasites and bacteria. Following Kharon's weekly grooming, she is taken to a room with a ceiling chain. Blindfolded and ball-gagged, Kharon has her hands tied high above her head and her legs spread apart. Taunus is given an hour with the bound, naked beauty. Taunus is a crusty old curmudgeon. Parsimonious to the point of being niggardly, he would never spend his personal money on a girl. But the experience of touching real flesh, as opposed to vicariously viewing high resolution (hires) avatars, is simply irresistible. Mr Spike, The Club manager, shows Taunus the way to Kharon's "examination room." He gives a bit of instruction. "Taunus, I know that you are one of the IT nerds," Mr Spike begins, "so let me get out front with some of the details of the examination room. First, never remove her blindfold. Remove her ball-gag if you want to. But those of us in administration don't want to be identified. Those in procurement and processing are a different matter altogether." "The girl is bound for optimal exposure and punishment," Mr Spike continues, "You will notice that she will not clench fast her buttocks. She has been trained using the most severe techniques never to inhibit the insertion of fingers or other objects into her rectum. Moreover, she will not cry out or scream if her bare bottom is caned. The maximum number of cane strokes for her is fifty." "Oh, my," Taunus interjects, "I would never cane a girl." "She is expecting to be used, Brother," Mr Spike retorts, "do not disappoint her." - Taunus opens the door with a posted warning: "No Cameras, No Cell Phones, No Recording Devices." He leaves Mr Spike and enters a darkly lighted room. Taunus can scarcely believe his myopic, astigmatic eyes. There, in the center of the room, is Kharon, naked and bound. She is gagged and blindfolded, her hands tied high above her head and her legs spread apart. She is shivering in her restraints, either from the chill of the room or in anticipation of the next event to be unfurled. Taunus is also quivering and shaking in anticipation. He has never seen a BDSM girl in the flesh before. His usual interaction is done via avatars on the game grid. He approaches her and catches her first scent. It is the atavistic animal attraction, chemically induced in sex slaves to enhance their animal magnetism. Taunus reaches out and runs his fingertips down her unprotected, vulnerable, available underarms down to her hairy armpits. He gathers some of her perspiration of arousal and sniffs her female fragrance. His mind is aflame with crass carnal craving. Kharon tries to pull back against her restraints. She mutters something into the ball gag. Taunus cannot resist the temptation; he kisses and licks her hairy armpits and runs the rough blade of his tongue against her erect nipples and puckered areola. He notices her pussy. Honey nectar coats her vulva and a droplet streaks down her creamy inner thighs. This is her oil of submission, carefully induced and trained into a sex slave. Kharon has an exceptionally high Intelligence Quotient (IQ). This makes her valuable as a conversationalist as well as a sex object. Taunus removes her ball-gag and speaks to her: "You are beautiful beyond all my expectations, Kharon." "A girl is a mere slave, Sir," Kharon replies. "She is your cunt to use and abuse as you deem fit, Sir. Thank you for your compliment, however." "You are also a genius," Taunus states. "A girl is a cunt for you, Sir," Kharon responds, "she is honored to serve you in any way you desire." She wiggles her carved ivory derrière seductively. "I understand that you have had special training in the use of your anus, Kharon," Taunus remarks. "Do tell." As Kharon begins to elaborate on her special training, Taunus puts on a pair of green latex gloves and applies a liberal amount of K.Y. Jelly. "A girl was stubborn at first and would clench her buttocks tight to protect her sensitive anus. She was deprived of sleep and starved until she no longer had the will to resist. The Doms were very proud of their handiwork." "I noticed you wiggle your ass, Kharon," Taunus comments. He walks behind Kharon and spreads her ass cheeks apart. There is a moment of voluntary tightening of her anal sphincters, but it is transient and passes quickly. Taunus smiles at the girl's obedience. He puts his right middle finger atop his right index finger and pushes the two against her anus, which offers no resistance. Once in her rectum, he aligns the fingers side-by-side, stretching and dilating her anus. She gasps a sigh but offers no resistance. He curls his fingers and pulls against her anal sphincter muscles. She squirms and wreathes. "Has a girl experienced the butt plug?" Taunus asks. "Oh, yes Sir," Kharon answers. "If a master desires." "I have one with a different geometry, Kharon," Taunus remarks. "It is called an 'indwelling butt plug' and offers several challenges." "Oh!" kharon shudders as she sees Taunus retrieve a huge black butt plug. Taunus pushes the raindrop (or teardrop) butt plug against Kharon's Glory of Glories. This turns out to be a challenge. "Relax girl," Taunus orders, "allow penetration." "A girl is trying, Sir," Kharon replies. "May a girl be allowed to bend over. This position makes it difficult." "No," Taunus demands and pushes harder. He watches her anus slowly stretch to allow entry of the tapered, black butt plug. Realizes that he only has an hour with Kharon, and that only one day a week, he redoubles his effort and sees the black beauty slip into her rectum. "Now is your challenge, Kharon," Taunus says, "push it out girl!" Kharon strains and presses. She makes little progress. "Push, push, push," Taunus demands, "two minutes left. Push girl." Her armpits are wet with sweat and likewise is the nape of her neck and the small of her back. Taunus takes a moment to lick her before continuing to urge her on. "Time!" Taunus shouts. "You will suffer a penalty: six strokes with the cane." Taunus pulls the plug out. Removal was easy, insertion difficult, expulsion was-a challenge. Only a select few girls were able to expel the butt plug. "Is a girl ready?" Taunus asks. "Yes, Sir," Kharon replies, "May I have a stroke, please, Sir." Taunus strikes her glorious hemispheres. The girl has been trained not to cry out or scream. "One. Thank you, Sir, may I have another, please." Kharon begs. "My pleasure," Taunus responds. He strikes again. "Two. Thank you, Sir, may I have another, please." Kharon pleads. There are two red whelps on Kharon's ass. Taunus strikes harder. "Three. Thank you, Sir, may I have another, please." Kharon begs. Her knees wobble. Taunus canes the girl's bare bottom again. "Four. Thank you, Sir, may I have another, please." Kharon asks, recovering some of her resolve. Taunus strikes harder, hoping that she will scream and earn a penalty stroke. "F... Five. Thank you, Sir, may I have another, please." Kharon says. Taunus strikes will all his masculine strength. Kharon shakes and wreathes in pain. She struggles not to yell out. "Mmm, Six, Thank you, more please," Kharon answers neglecting the "Sir" and earning a penalty stroke. "Good girl," Taunus remarks. "You know how to please a man." He swats her red, bruised ass with a penalty stroke. "Thank you, Sir," She shouts. "My time with you is short, Kharon," Taunus mentions. "Offer a kiss." Kharon puckers up and Taunus kisses her lips with a passionate kiss. Kharon Ch. 02 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ***** Kharon is nineteen years old. She has blond hair and blue eyes. How does she measure up? Pretty good. Taunus has been waiting all week and looking forward to his hour with Kharon. The day has finally arrived; it is her "sanitary day." On her sanitary day Kharon is brought from her cage, commonly called her kennel, and taken to a grooming station. There her fingernails and toenails are trimmed short, her teeth are cleaned and brushed, she is bathed in a disinfectant solution, and her head hair, eyebrows, and pubic hair are shorn away with clippers. The hairs in her armpits are left to grow-to add humiliation to degradation. After Kharon has been prepped, she is taken to one of the punishment rooms. There she is bound, hands above her head and legs spread apart. From this position, pussy and tits are unprotected, vulnerable, and available. She is also blindfolded and gagged with a ball gag. She is left in the room until Taunus comes to visit her for an hour. Today she is slightly suspended, her legs spread more than uncomfortable, and she must stand on the balls of her feet to avoid the stress and strain on her wrists and shoulders. During the week after their first session in the punishment room, Taunus reviewed Kharon's dossier. He also surfed the web looking for abducted or missing girls in her age group. He then micro-examined her prison and dungeon records. Her intake tape had been preserved. On this video a dozen girls are being in-processed. At first it is routine, banal, boring. Young girls undressing and ashamed of their naked state. Lined up in a queue, first their teeth are examined. Then one-by-one the girls in all their naked splendor have a steel speculum inserted into their vaginas. Their pussies are spread and a Radio Frequency Identification Chips (RFID chips) are implanted in their uteri. The RFID chip enables the Information Technology guru to locate and assess each girl's activities. The captured information can then be relayed real time to the girl's user and/or observer. Simply stated, there is no way that a girl can fake an orgasm or conceal a sexual climax. Pity the poor girl who is having her period during this ordeal. Likewise, the girl with an Intrauterine Device (IUD) has another challenge. The assistant administering the speculum and chip insertion is in no way gentle with the girls. Kharon reacts badly to the process; the other girls have to restrain her. The next station is proctoscopy. A large proctoscope is inserted into each girl's rectum, dilating and stretching each girl's anus. When it is Kharon's turn she refuses to submit, clenching her buttocks tight. The technician is frustrated and the other girls are annoyed at this unexpected delay. This event will be used again and again in Kharon's training. The attitude is of particular interest to some clients who wish to see the training and final resulting slave. Taunus enters the punishment room and sees Kharon. He sees the blond beauty in distress, alternating from standing on the balls of her feet and holding her weight on the wrist constraints. He sets the leg spreader bar six inches in to afford her ankles and hips some relief. Then he loosens the overhead pulley chain to permit her to stand flat-footed on the floor. She mutters something into the ball gag. Taunus removes the oversize ball gag and rapes Kharon's sore lips with a passionate kiss. Despite the soreness induced by the ball gag, Kharon manages to gingerly French kiss Taunus. He strokes her near bald head. On her "sanitary day" her head hair is trimmed to about one-sixteenth of an inch-just enough to reveal her natural hair color. He rubs the stubble where her eyebrows were. She is embarrassed by the loss of her eyebrows, once one of her defining facial features. He playfully kisses her slender neck and shoulders. Then he breathes on her ears. Drops of her honey nectar drip from her glistening vulva. She is so unused to tenderness and affection that she is aroused to the verge of having a sexual climax-a climax that she is allowed only by permission. Kharon begs: "May a girl cum, Sir?" "No," replies Taunus. "A girl must hold her orgasm." "Yes, Sir," Kharon whispers. Taunus continues to work the girl. He kisses her arms from her wrists to her armpits. She shivers in arousal; her pussy is soaking wet now. Once at her armpits he licks them, conscious that she is unshaven and having her own natural scent. Deodorants and perfumes are forbidden to the girls in the kennels. There is a certain animal attraction of the natural female. Two outstanding attributes of female arousal that interest Taunus are: one, the garlic-like scent of her breath; and, two, her orgasm face. Taunus works her nipples and areola with the rough blade of his tongue. He gently presses his teeth to her nipples and nibbles around the breast body. Sucking and licking her tits arouses Kharon even more. She struggles to avoid her pending orgasm. The center mass of Kharon's breasts are hard. She is rapidly approaching a point of no return for an earth-shattering orgasm. She needs to do something to avoid being disobedient. She whispers to Taunus: "Please slap a girl's breasts." Taunus ignores the girl's plea. Instead he focuses his attention on her back and buttocks. Her back is scored with lashes from some narrow whip; her buttocks have been caned recently as well. He doesn't speak but slides his face down to her groin. He spreads her pussy lips to kiss and lick her clitoris, but notices a hard red swelling. "What is this, Kharon?" He asks, careful to disguise his voice. "One of the clients has been inserting catheters into a girl's bladder, Sir," she replies. "He uses a larger one each day. A girl was not to cry out, but the pain the last day was so intense and severe that she moaned in pain. For that she was given twenty cane strokes on her already abused ass. She tolerated them well, not crying out or screaming." "Ah," responded Taunus. "Does it hurt to urinate?" "Yes, Sir, a maximum," Kharon answers. "But the real pain was to her anus." "Let me see," Taunus asks as he parts her glorious hemispheres and examines her rosette, her Glory of Glories. She is bruised and swollen. Taunus goes to the medicine chest and fetches a 10% hydrocortisone hemorrhoid suppository and inserts it into Kharon's anus. She is instantly relieved. "Why were you not treated by the staff?" "They insisted on scrubbing me," she answered. "I was told to keep my ass cheeks spread and my anus available for scrubbing. A client sodomized me with a ginger root for crying out while being whipped with a narrow whip. It hurt a lot." "And you endured the scrubbing?" Taunus inquired. "A girl has been trained to submit, Sir," Kharon responded. Taunus kissed the small of Kharon's back. She was immediately aroused again. Kharon begs: "I can't hold off on this orgasm, Sir. Please slap my breasts. Or press on my sore pee hole. A girl begs you." Taunus rubs her clit and orders her to cum, a command that she enjoys obeying. Taunus is so excited over the time spent with the girl that he scarcely notices the time. As she cums he loses control and creams in his jeans. At that self-same moment guards open the punishment room door, expecting only the girl to be present. Taunus is embarrassed and departs at once. - One of The Club's directors, Faustus (not his real name), pays Taunus a visit. Taunus is The Club's IT guru. Faustus: We need to have a sit down, Taunus. Taunus: Is there a problem with the game grid? Faustus: No, your work has always exceeded expectations. It is about a girl. Taunus: The girl that Mr Spike set me up with, Kharon? Faustus: Yes. Your first session-with the butt plug-was excellent. The second session, not so good. You are spoiling the girl. You should have gotten her to cum, then assessed a penalty. Taunus: What? The punishment room (also known as the examination room) isn't supposed to be recorded! I didn't know eyes were watching. Faustus: Not client eyes. But we monitor our own. We don't want a mutiny. In particular, Kharon has her sights set on you. Caution is advised. I hope this topic doesn't come up again. Also, you treated her anus. We use her bruised and swollen anus as a selling point. She earns a premium having to serve in that condition-tumescent and engorged-soft to a penetrating penis. This club is capitalistic. Faustus: Good bye. Taunus: Wait a second, are you taking Kharon away from me? My hour? Faustus: No way. We don't want to break our word! Bye. Taunus: bye, be well. - Taunus is frustrated and angered at Faustus's warning. He is even more humiliated at having, what he considered private moments, observed. Kharon was once an articulate, erudite, intellectual woman. Now she is a "cunt" at The Club. But she still has a perfect physique-a statuesque, heavenly body. If only he could figure out some way to communicate with her without oversight. It was after midnight when Mr Spike, The Club owner, knocked on Taunus's door. He stumbled to the door, sleep still in his eyes, thinking that the grid was down or some IT emergency. There was a naked woman standing beside Mr Spike on a leash. Since nudity is the norm for slaves, her naked flesh was not conspicuous. Taunus was perplexed; Kharon was not blindfolded. Mr Spike explained that Kharon was too publicized to be kept with the other girls. She was to be kenneled with Taunus and required from time to time to be caned, whipped, or paddled. If Taunus agreed. Of course he would. But seeing his girl on the pillory would not be easy. Kharon leapt forward and kissed Taunus. "I will gladly take punishments for you, Master." "Good," Mr Spike exclaimed. "Tomorrow, before breakfast Kharon will be caned with fifty strokes on her bare bottom. Sleep well you two love birds. Kharon Ch. 03 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ***** Kharon is nineteen years old. She has blond hair and blue eyes. How does she measure up? Her "measurements" are: 35B-25-35. Taunus is alone with his dream girl. Mr Spike gave Taunus Kharon's leash. After Mr Spike left, the two begin kissing and making out like high school sweethearts. Time flies by on rose-colored wings. Kharon gives Taunus all of her parts. After an hour of heavy petting, both are wet with sweat. Kharon suggests that they shower together. And they do. Taunus enjoys massaging Kharon's small but firm breasts and stone hard nipples. Kharon sucks Taunus's dick and feasts on his precum. Kharon is thrilled to share Taunus's small efficiency apartment. For sure in a previous life it would be too small. It is like a mansion compared to the cages called "kennels." The prospect of having to tolerate some use does cause both Kharon and Taunus some concern. "Have you recovered enough to tolerate fifty cane strokes this morning?" Taunus inquires. He is worried that Faustus might be the man to administer the punishment. Kharon kisses Taunus on his lips and replies: "This girl has endured far worse, Sir. It is an honor to present herself in your name for the caning. Now would you like to sodomize your girl? It is your right." "But you are swollen and sore," Taunus speaks out with despair. "I wish to offer you at least as much as a paying client, Sir," Kharon replies. After a pause, she asks: "May a girl askk a question?" "Yes," Taunus replies. "May a girl grow her head hair and eyebrows?" She asks. "By all means, Kharon," Taunus answers. "And, may a girl shave her armpits?" She requests. "Let me think on that," Taunus replies. "Yes, Sir," Kharon says with obvious disappointment. Taunus knows exactly and precisely what he must do. He orders Kharon to lie on her belly. He knows that he must butt fuck her, regardless of the condition of her anus. He smears K.Y. Jelly over her rosette and squirts more into her rectum. He then puts on a condom, lubricating it well also. He gently parts her ass cheeks and slowly eases his massive member into her Glory of Glories. She is crying, but remains silent. He is as gentle as possible and cums as quickly as he can. When he pulls out, there is a trace of blood on his penis. He struggles with his emotions. He feels that this was an event that had to transpire. "Have you ever spotted before?" He asks Kharon. "No, Master," she answers. "A girl is honored to offer you her first blood." She kisses his cheek. He notices her tears. She is totally his slave. - Breakfast at The Club is served at 8:00 AM; pre-breakfast events start usually at 7:30. When Taunus arrives with his girl Kharon on a leash a little past seven o'clock, there are already people there. After a few more gentlemen and slave girls arrive, Mr Spike starts things off: "Hello everyone. This morning we are 'caning out' a slave girl. Kharon is to become Taunus's personal slave. But don't despair, she will still be available for use here from time to time. (applause) She will receive fifty strokes. There is even the possibility of penalty strokes, should she cry out or scream. These are 'bare-bottom' strokes, but the penalty strokes are tit strokes." A voice comes from among the patrons, it is Faustus: "Who will administer the strokes?" Mr Spike retorts: Not you Faustus! It will be the club's first girl, Ellen." Kharon makes her ass available, bending over a chair. Once in place, she speaks: "Please cane my ass, first girl." Ellen strikes with the cane. After a sharp "crack" Kharon utters: "One. Thank you. may I have another please." Again and again Ellen strikes and Kharon replies. Kharon is suffering a maximum, but does not cry out. At long last it is over and done, Kharon returns to Taunus and her leash. She suffers to kneel in the "Cutie" pose, her knees to the ground and her legs spread behind her. "Thank you foor the entertainment, Taunus," Mr Spike announces. "If there is no further business, let breakfast be served." "I object!" Interjects Faustus. "The strokes from the first girl were too light!" Mr Spike frowns. "Faustus may give Ellen ten bare bottom strokes." "With the possibility of penalty strokes?" Faustus queries Mr Spike. "Yeah," answers Mr Spike in disgust. Ellen bends over the chair and begs for caning. Faustus strikes her bare bottom as hard as he can. She lurches forward then catches her breath, never expecting such impact. "One, Sir. Thank you. May a girl have another, please," she responds. Faustus strikes again, this time splintering the Rattan cane. Ellen struggles to utter the count, thank you, and more please. Faustus returns with a birch cane. He strikes Ellen with all his manly strength. She cannot restrain herself as she cries out: "Eeeow, three, Sir. Thank you and please give this cunt a penalty stroke and more please." Her body cramps and wreathes. She stands and proudly presents her tits for his pleasure. He canes them as hard as he can-a red streak appears, transversing both areola and nipples. Ellen prepares herself mentally for the battle of wills with Faustus. She had never been so savagely caned before and never had she suffered the humiliation of a penalty stroke. Faustus continued to cane her, but this time she did not scream irrespective of the obvious pain. Kharon Ch. 04 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ***** Kharon is nineteen years old. She is gorgeous. Enough said about her. The first girl of The Club, Ellen, is visiting Kharon. They are in Taunus's apartment, where Kharon is quartered as Taunus's personal slave. Kharon still has a commitment to The Club and must spend time on the game grid as well as servicing some select real life clients. Ellen: This efficiency apartment is small, but it sure beats the kennels. Kharon: For sure, and Taunus treats me well. Ellen: Speaking of Taunus, he hasn't been to the pre-breakfast show lately. Kharon: Master has been working many hours. The Club's revenue is constantly being hacked. And there are Internet problems as well. Ellen: Oh, my! Kharon: Yes, it seems as though some people want something for nothing. Ellen: Then there are those who want too much. Kharon: Like Faustus? Ellen: Like Faustus! Kharon: I remember at my "caning out" how he abused you. Ellen: Yes, and my breasts still are discolored. Kharon: That was just mean and cruel. Ellen: He is able to discipline any girl with six strokes without appeal to the board. And he never skips the opportunity to inflict penalty strokes, either. Kharon: I have heard. Ellen: Who wants to cane an abused girl, anyway? The clients want flawless, blemish-free complexions to do their artistry on. They want a clean canvas to mark and score. Kharon: This is true, Ellen. Ellen: Well, all that is so obvious. How is your sex life with Taunus? Kharon: Good. We both hate condoms. And you know how messy a butt fuck can be? So I enema first thing every morning and lubricate my asshole for him. His day always begins with bare back sodomy. He is so gentle and caring. There are times that I have to entertain paying clients. Some use those "rough rider" condoms without lubricant. Taunus even gives me a rest day if I'm bruised, swollen, and sore. Ellen: Does Faustus ever get to use you? Kharon: Master always checks to ensure that Faustus isn't around before letting me enter the lounge for servicing clients. He controls the surveillance cameras, or most of them. Poor master, always being summonsed to do IT chores. Ellen: Without the income from the on line game grid, we would be bankrupt. Real Life dues simply aren't enough and the overhead at The Club is too high. Kharon: All that IT work, keeping the game grid active and chasing away griefers is a full-time job at best. Not counting avoiding surveillance. Ellen: Yes. Some people think that the Internet is free love! Kharon: I was abducted and brought here from a middle-class bourgeois world. I could never return to those silly Yuppy games they play. - Several days have passed and Ellen meets Kharon at a pre-breakfast event. Kharon: Master brought me to this happening; do you know what's going on? Ellen: Yes, Kharon, Faustus is having me caned out as first girl. I will receive twenty strokes. Word has it that there will be an additional punishment. Kharon: Why? You have been first girl for a while and all the clients are pleased with you. Ellen: But Faustus says otherwise. Mr Spike: Gentlemen and cunts, welcome. This morning we will cane out Ellen as first girl. Faustus will do the honors. Come on stage and bend over the caning chair, Ellen. Ellen: Yes, Sir. Ellen climbs up on stage. Faustus enters stage and shows the audience a tuber. Faustus: Gentlemen and cunts. This is a ginger root. It will be inserted into Ellen's asshole. Should she clench or tighten her anal sphincters or buttocks, the root will secrete a ginger extract that will burn and sting. Girl must remain relaxed and submit to the caning. Of course, she must never cry out or scream and she must, as usual, count the strokes, thank me, and beg for another stroke. Is this understood, girl? Ellen: Yes, Sir. Ellen is wishing that she had been trained like Kharon to tolerate insertion of penis, fingers, butt plugs, or enemas into her rectum without tightening or clenching. Ellen is certain that she can tolerate the caning but she is uncertain about the ginger root. Faustus: Is a girl ready? Ellen: "Yes, Sir," she stammers. "A girl begs for the cane." Faustus: This is my pleasure, Ellen. Faustus strikes Ellen's bare bottom with a cane. Ellen lurches forward, surprised at the strength ad intensity of the stroke: "One, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another, please?" Faustus says "My delight" as he pummels Ellen's glorious hemispheres again with the thin cane. Ellen feels the burning of the ginger root as her anus seems on fire. She says: "Two, Sir, thank you. May I have another please?" Faustus: I am glad to oblige, Ellen. (He loves to insult the hapless girl by indicating that she somehow enjoys her pain and humiliation.) Faustus strikes a third time. Ellen says: "Three, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another please?" Faustus: I love to hear the "P" word. Faustus lays on another stroke. The sound is a sharp "crack." Ellen holds the chair with white knuckles and forces herself to say: "Four, Sir, thank you. May I have another please?" Faustus is disgusted that the ginger root has not elicited a response from the girl. He was almost certain that she would be unable to hold her screams with the ginger root burning and stinging in her Glory of Glories. He strikes again. Ellen's legs wobble under the stroke. She stammers, drooling and with snot running out of her nose: "Five, Sir, thank you, Sir. May I have another please?" Faustus: The caning experience is best in progress. Here a girl must anticipate her will to endure versus a man's will to bring her into submission and accept her role. Faustus strikes again, with all his masculine strength. Ellen: "Six, Sir, thank you. May I have another please?" Faustus, frustrated, quickly administers four hard strokes. Ellen, twisting and wreathing in pain, blurts out: Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Sir. Thank you Sir. More please." Faustus: We are half done, Ellen. You have been brave, a real trooper. Now we can see how you fare these next ten. They hurt more as they strike over swollen and scored flesh. But enjoy your tuber. Faustus twists and jerks the ginger root in Ellen's ass. Ellen: Eowee! That burns Sir. Faustus: You just earned a penalty stroke, Ellen. Mr Spike: That's wrong Faustus. Penalty strokes are for caning only. Ellen: A girl will submit, Sirs. She stands, hands behind her back, shoulders back, and breasts protruding. "My breasts are offered for your pleasure Sir. Please use them as you desire." Faustus strikes Ellen's breasts with the cane. She cries. Then thanks him. Ellen: May a girl return to the caning posture and prepare herself for Sir's use and service? gglieFaustus: Yes girl, we have ten more strokes to do and an as yet undetermined number of penalty strokes. Ellen shudders in disbelief at the savagery and cruelty of the sadistic Faustus. Faustus: Before each stroke, remove the ginger root and hand it to me. I will "rough it up" on a stone. Then I will hand it back to you so that you can insert it again. Understood girl? Ellen: Yes, Sir. She removes the tuber, hands it to Faustus, who rubs it on a stone. He hands the ginger root back to Ellen who struggles to re-insert it. Her buttocks involuntarily clench. She begs for more time, but somehow manages to re-insert it before her request is denied. Faustus delivers another strike to Ellen carved ivory derriere. Ellen struggles to suppress a scream but manages to say: "Eleven, Sir, thank you, may I have another please?" Ellen removes the offending root and offers it to Faustus. Each event is more and more painful. Faustus returns the root and Ellen strains to insert it. She wonders if she can avoid penalty strokes. Faustus: With the root burning in her ass, Faustus delivers another stroke. Ellen screams and manages to say: "Twelve, Sir, please give me more strokes and I am ready for my penalty stroke. My tits are at your pleasure." Ellen presents her breasts. Faustus canes her breasts hard. He smiles at the red whelp. Ellen removes the root and hands it to Faustus. Faustus roughs up the root and hands it back to Ellen. Ellen forces the tuber into her ass, her anus red and puffy. Faustus gives Ellen another stroke. Ellen musters up some resolve and whispers a soft, almost melodic, reply. Ellen: Thirteen, Sir. May I have another, please, pretty please? Ellen removes the root from her ass, kisses it, and hands it to Faustus. Mr Spike: breakfast is being served. The remaining seven strokes will be done later. All this tuber sideline is taking up too much time. Kharon Ch. 05 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ***** Following the world-wide crackdown on private Bondage-Dominance-Sadism-Masochism (BDSM) prisons, Kharon found herself sold to Jean's Dungeon, a concrete block of cells in the basement of a private residence. There are three gray Spartan concrete cells, a glistening white prep room, and a dark punishment room. Kharon is aware that there are other girls present, but she is warned not to try and communicate with them. On day one, Jean and her man lay out the rules. "In this cell there are two objects: your naked body and a large, brown wool blanket. There are no amenities, Kharon, only a hole in the floor where you will defecate, urinate, or vomit as the need arises. You should squat in the 'Cutie' pose when you take care of your needs, so the camera can catch your behavior. Do you understand this so far, girl." "Yes, Mistress. A girl understands." Kharon answers. She is trembling and shaking in the cold basement air. She longs to ask the use of the blanket, but does not want to challenge the Mistress, especially not in front of the burly man beside her. "We have a unique system here," Jean explains. "It is based on monotony and sensory deprivation. Your only contact with the world outside your cell is your daily bowl of oatmeal, mixed with protein and fruit, and the Light-Emitting-Diode (LED) button on the Liquid Crystal Display (LCD) box near the door. When there is a client, his preference will be transmitted to each girl's cell. Should she decide to accept the offer, she will be prepped and taken to the punishment room. Should another girl accept first, then she must wait to see if another offer is made. Does a girl understand?" "I... a girl thinks so," Kharon stammers. There is uncertainly in her voice. Jean explains further: "For if the LED reads 'bare bottom caning 20 strokes with penalty.' Then a girl can expect twenty cane strokes on her bare buttocks. If she screams or cries out, an uncounted penalty stroke is given. Is it becoming clear now? A girl may elect not to chose an offer, but she may grow bored in her cell. I noticed that you have an IUD. We will activate it to keep you constantly aroused and, by electric shock, keep you from climaxing. You may only experience an orgasm as directed by a paying client." "Yes, Mistress," Kharon replies. "Finally, a girl must push the LED button while it is lit. It will go out when either some girl pushes it to accept or it 'times out' after one minute." Jean concludes. "Now a girl is on her own." The cell door slams and locks. The next morning an offer came across the LCD: "15 Pussy kicks with penalty." No one accepted that deal. Another offer came: "tit caning 10 strokes with penalty." One of the other girls quickly accepted it. Kharon had not experienced the torment of sensory deprivation and monotony. But as the hours passed she realized that her pussy was wet and she could feel a climax approaching. As she was prepared to cum, a strong, high voltage pulse shot through her uterus. She screamed in pain. A few hours later, the insidious device began to arouse her again. When she tried to sleep, she again experienced the degrading arousal. After three days of silence, Kharon was anxious to hear a human voice and touch human skin. The LCD offered: "30 minute make out, petting, and foreplay." She accepts. Kharon has no idea what she's getting herself into. Jean and her burly male escort unlock the door to Kharon's cell. They are bringing a clean blanket. As they leave the room, one of the other girls is preparing to scrub the floor. Kharon glances towards her only too be rebuffed by Olaf's baritone voice: "You both will be severely punished if you make eye contact." This is the first time that Kharon has heard Olaf speak. He speaks with authority. The two girls ignore each other. Jean gives some instructions: "We are going to the prep room now, Kharon." Once there, Jean and her man, Olaf, trim Kharon's fingernails and toenails. Then they shear all the hair on her head, underarms, eyebrows, and bush. Kharon asks why the eyebrows? The only hair untouched are her eyelashes. Jean explains that it is for hygienic reasons. "Don't worry, girl, I will paint on some eyebrows. But there is much to do. The client is arriving soon." The two, Jean and Olaf, work feverishly brushing and cleaning Kharon's teeth, administering enemas, and removing the stubble of hair with shaving gel and a safety razor. They then use a laser hair removal to remove those few hairs in her perineum and around her anus. Kharon finds this peculiar. Disinfecting solution is applied to Kharon. Then she is put in the shower. Lastly, expensive perfume is touched behind her knees and on the nape of her neck. Jean gives some advise: "Give this crusty old curmudgeon a French kiss and a blow job. That will exhaust him. He spends a maximum with us. Keep him happy. Jean finds Kharon a blond wig. Clients expect their submissive to have head hair as a rule. Jean and Olaf spread a sheet over the couch in the punishment room. Kharon is dressed in a Japanese schoolgirl outfit. She is cute as a button. They leave as the client, Randy, arrives. Kharon cannot believe what she sees. He is shriveled and hosting a myriad of geriatric diseases. He is filthy, his head hair is scabby with head lice, fleas, and pubic crabs. His mouth is distorted with festering pus pockets; his breath is foul, worse than a sewer. When he is within three feet of Kharon. The odor of his festering diabetic foot rot is detected. He reeks of gangrene and cadaverine putrescine. Kharon wonders how she will be able to French kiss this diseased octogenarian. Kissing a dead corpse would be easier. He sits beside her; she puckers up and shuts her eyes. She overcomes her basic human instinct and French kisses this gnarled bag of mostly black water. After a few minutes of stressed osculation, Randy breaks apart and coughs. His cough is more like a death rattle than a healthy cough. He turns his head and spits out some indescribable brown mucus. Kharon works down and reaches inside his smelly trousers. There are black specks on his legs and ass. She locates his partially erect penis and tries to fluff him. His foul-smelling penis almost makes Kharon vomit. But he comes quickly, as Jean predicted; and, he drifts into a vegetative torpor. "We need to disinfect you immediately, girl," Jean demands. "Olaf, when Randy leaves, pull that sheet off the couch and burn it. Then sterilize this entire room with Lysol(tm)" Back in her cell Kharon cries. She misses Taunus, who is probably in jail, and The Club. After her initial experience with a client, Kharon is hesitant to accept another offer. She is horny and bored. The constant ebb and flow of arousal and denial is taxing on Kharon. She wishes somehow that she could cum. As time passes, Kharon notices that the pussy kick is reduced from 15 to 10 and to five without penalty. Kharon thinks that this might be an opening. With only five strokes and no penalty, she feels as though she can tolerate it. With hesitation she accepts. When Jean and Olaf come to fetch Kharon and take her to the prep and later to the punishment room, Jean speaks to Kharon: "You know that you can't back out of this, don't you girl?" Kharon nods "yes." "The kick is done with the top of the foot, not the toe, which would injure a girl severely. This is not to say that there is no chance of injury." Jean advises. "Yes, Mistress," Kharon replies. Kharon is made to stand in the "Frisk" or "Display" pose. Her hands are behind her head and her legs spread apart. She is blindfolded as she waits for her client. ' The kick master enters. He first checks the girl's blindfold and then parts her legs a bit further apart. He then rubs the laces of his military combat boots on Kharon's vulva. The sensation is not unpleasant to her. Then he kicks her squarely on her exposed, vulnerable, unprotected pussy. She screams and folds down on the mat, grabbing her privates in pain. The master lifts her back up and positions her again. She doesn't know if she can endure four more kicks to her groin. She musters courage and strength and makes her vulva available. Once again he rubs his boot laces against her vulva. She convulses at the thought of the next kick. The master is moving something around. She has to wait as the throbbing begins to ebb. Then suddenly, without warning, he kicks her again. She screams and collapses on the floor. Once again he helps her up. As soon as she is positioned, he kicks. Once again she screams and falls. Once again he positions her. He delivers a final kick and leaves her crying and unable to stand. Jean and Olaf come and carry her back to her cell. Her pussy is bleeding slightly. In a strange way she is grateful for the attention. Recovery will take time. Now, catching the scent of Olaf, Kharon again experiences the irresistible sexual arousal. Jean punches something into her cell phone. "You may cum, Kharon," Jean says. And she did. Weeks of pent-up denial cause her to climax instantaneously. She strokes her swollen and bruised clitoris as she experiences multiple orgasms. Kharon Ch. 06 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ***** Kharon never thought that she would ever miss the Internet Cyberspace Prison with its daily body cavity searches. But, mean and cruel as the mistresses were and as demanding and depraved the male guards were, they did communicate. The isolation of Jean's Dungeon was hard to endure. It was, in fact, solitary confinement. And there was the indwelling intrauterine device that would arouse her to the point of climax every hour of every day and then deny her the climax with a strong electric shock. Some time has passed and Kharon has made a recovery from the session of five pussy kicks. Kharon thought that she could endure the small count. She did, in the sense that she was able to be stood up and stand for each kick. The original request of fifteen kicks was impossible to imagine. For sure a girl would find herself unconscious or unable to stand. Now she watches the LCD screen. The clients seem to favor twenty bare bottom canings with penalty or ten teat canings with penalty punishment. The other two girls seem to be able to accept a punishment every four to six days. There are a few gentlemen who keep a girl for an hour and just neck and fondle her. Some even allow a girl to cum! Driven by loneliness and isolation, Kharon finally accepts an offer of ten tit canings with penalty. She feels that she can tolerate the ten strokes. She feels that she has lost all dignity, willing to endure punishment for human contact. She has to calculate what she can tolerate just to be with another human being. She isn't even afforded the ability to masturbate and experience and pleasure herself with an orgasm. After her session in the prep room, Kharon is led to the punishment room. It is there that she is tied onto the rack; supine, her hands cuffed and stretched far above her head and her ankles tied together and stretched tightly. In this position a cane can access her breasts with a maximal downwards stroke. Jean and Olaf leave. After a brief hiatus, a client wearing a mask enters the room. The client begins with a little small talk about the weather and the economy. He knows that Kharon is enduring sensory deprivation and solitary confinement. She will beg use to engage another human being. "May I strap a girl's breasts, please?" The client asks. Kharon blushes. "As you desire, Sir," Kharon answers. She knows that she cannot refuse, but still he is legitimizing her punishment. He ties an elastic strap around each breast, slowing circulation and causing Kharon's "B" cup to swell and distend. The result is a purple hue and a hard teat with protruding nipples. The client continues to chat with Kharon as he prepares to cane the girl's perfectly proportioned mammary. He then uses black electrical tape to cover her nipples and areola with a black "X." "May a girl ask a question, Sir?" Kharon asks. "Yes, girl," the client answers as he checks out the canes: Rattan, Birch, Bamboo,... "Why did Sir tape a girl's nipples?" Kharon inquires. "To maximize pain and to minimize tissue damage. I will want to use you soonest again. So you need too be able to heal quickly." The client explains. He continues: "Also, after caning the girl will be tasked to remove the tape." Kharon shudders at the experience and cruelty of this client. She senses that he will become a significant character in her sample space. Fifteen minutes of his hour with Kharon is gone; the client prepares to begin. He demands that Kharon beg for her first stroke. Everything in Kharon's basic human instinct makes her want to refuse to beg for this perverted use. And not to scream or cry out loud to avoid a penalty stroke. "A girl begs to be caned, Sir," Kharon proposes. She will not have to wait long. Following the "crack" of the Birch cane, snot pours from Kharon's nostrils, tears flow from her baby-blue eyes, and she drools uncontrollably. She is embarrassed as she cannot control her bladder and urinates. The client smiles at her first response. She struggles to speak, but is able to say: "One. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, please." "It is my pleasure to honor a beautiful woman's request," the client responds. He strikes Kharon's glorious hemispheres with a skillfully administered stroke. He strikes hard, hoping to earn a penalty stroke. But Kharon, used to the battle of wills, holds her ground and replies. "Two. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, please. Pretty please." "I admire a girl's fortitude and resolute behavior," the client admits. More determined than ever, the next stroke is delivered to the bottom of the breasts. Kharon convulses and wreathes in pain. Kharon shouts: "Three. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, please. Please." The client, sensing that her resolve is weakening, responds: "My delight to give you another stroke." He strikes with all his strength, directly along the center of the breasts. "Eeeooww! Four. Thank You, Sir. May this have another, please. And her penalty stroke, please." Kharon blurts out. The client leaves and returns with a leather belt. He tells Kharon that she may cry out when the belt strikes. She certainly does. She takes a minute to recover. They kiss. Then the cane strokes her tits again. Kharon struggles but whispers: "Five. Thank You, Sir. Please. May this girl have another, please. She begs you. Please." They kiss again. This time it is a French kiss. Kharon speaks: "Six. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, please. Pretty please with cheese." The man slips his fingers into her crotch. She is wet. She doesn't want him to know that she can't cum without permission. But she may already know that. He strikes again. Kharon shouts to offset her pain: "Seven. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, please, please." The client smiles. He kisses her neck and shoulders and spits on her armpits, rubbing her there. As she begins to become aroused, the cane strokes her tits. She utters: "Seven. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, please." Hoping to earn another penalty stroke, he pinches her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, pulls, and twists them. She moans in pain. He applies a second elastic binding to her already bound breasts. The cane strokes again with a sharp "crack." "Eight. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, please." Kharon begs. Hoping to gain a penalty stroke, the client uses the thin Japanese cane. The cane hisses through the air. Kharon begs: "Nine. Thank You, Sir. May this girl have another, pretty please." The client kisses Kharon's belly. He is frustrated in his inability to earn a penalty stroke. The Japanese cane whistles through the air and scores Kharon's chest. She shouts: "Ten. Thank You, Sir." They kiss and the man licks her all over. She is aroused, but knows not to climax. When it is time for him to go-his hour is over-she makes him an offer: "Sir may have a free penalty stroke." The client wastes no time in using the belt on Kharon. She screams in pain and pleasure. She cums and is shocked at the same time the leather belt whips across her unprotected, vulnerable tits. Kharon Ch. 07 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ***** Kharon cried herself to sleep after a particularly severe BDSM session. A client of Jean's Dungeon had caned her breasts. Driven by solitary confinement and monotony, Kharon could get a little human contact by allowing a man to brutally use her breasts. Worse than that, she had to beg him to do it. She even went so far as to volunteer him a free punishment stroke. Well, after all, they did French kiss. Kharon feels like a slut. Aside from being used, her only contact with the outside world is the bowl of watery soup she is fed every day. Her life is a struggle with the mental torture of solitary confinement and the constant arousal and orgasm denial mechanism. She tries to hold out as long as possible. Usually she can make it three days, maybe four, before trying to accept some sadist's offer of punishment. She wishes that she had a "Sugar Daddy" to spoil her terribly. Kharon notices that leather is popular. More and more clients want to use a leather belt on a girl's back, shoulders, and feet. Kharon checks the LCD when the red LED comes on, indicating an incoming order to Jean's Dungeon. The flashing red LED indicates an incoming offer, the solid LED means a girl may accept the order's offer. There are a number of offers to the girls. Kharon must compete to find one that she feels confident that she can tolerate. The LCD makes an offer: "Leather Belt to back 10 strokes: increasing penalty strokes for crying out or dropping." Kharon considers this. The recovery time from caning can take a week or more, depending on the number of strokes and the administering client; whereas, the leather belt may recover faster. She understands penalty strokes but fails to imagine what "dropping" refers to. In prepping Kharon, Jean, the dungeon owner, gives Kharon some advice: "Avoid penalty strokes. They are progressive." Jean leads Kharon to the punishment room. She is not wearing a wig for this event. Kharon waits standing in the center of the room in the "frisk" position. (This is also known as a Gorean "display position.") Her hands are behind her head and her legs are spread widely apart. Her breasts, underarms, and privates are accessible and available for use or abuse. Of course Kharon is blindfolded. The paying client enters the room and selects a leather belt. It is four inches wide and four feet long. He removes Kharon's blindfold and shows her the wicked belt. He presses it to her lips. She kisses the belt and thanks him saying: "For me, Sir? Thank You, Sir." "Does a girl have any questions for me before we begin?" The client asks. "Yes, Sir. What are the increasing penalty strokes and what is meant by 'dropping' in particular?" She inquires. "Good questions, girl," he responds. "First, dropping means losing a grip on the overhead ring. Let me lower it into position." He lowers the ring so that Kharon can reach it. She grabs the ring with both hands; she is grateful to stand flatfooted on the floor and not be suspended. "Second," the client continues, "if you fail to stifle or staunch your scream or fail to hold onto the ring (AKA dropping) for the first offense you get your breasts caned. For the second offense you have your breasts struck with the leather belt. For a third or more offenses, you get pussy kicked. Does a girl understand?" Kharon stammers: "Yes, Sir." "I know that you are being kept in solitary confinement, Kharon," the client says. "So, before we get down to the business at hand, let's smooch and make out on the couch. You will be afforded the opportunity to climax and experience an orgasm." Kharon trembles in anticipation and dread. She seats herself on the couch and remains motionless, hoping to avoid the overarching arousal and the debilitating electric shock from her indwelling intrauterine device. She wonders if the client is aware of her condition. She knows not to ask. Maybe Mistress Jean would want additional money. Kharon stoically endures the client's probing, kissing, and caressing. She still becomes aroused, nears an orgasm, and is shocked. The client notices Kharon's discomfiture with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "I see that you have had some special anal training, girl," her client asks. "Yes, Sir," she answers. Her client takes a paper towel and folds it into a two-inch cylinder. He spreads her glorious ass cheeks and is pleased to find no resistance as he shoves the cylinder half way in without lubricant. Kharon utters: "oh, Sir!" The client goes to the medicine cupboard and locates an IV of A10NS (Alcohol 10% in Normal Saline). He saturates the paper towel plug. He is pleased to see that she keeps her buttocks relaxed. He twists the plug. "Does it hurt, Kharon?" he inquires. "Yes, Sir," she answers, then adds, "a girl has endured worse without clenching." "Very good," the paying gentleman comments. "Beg the leather belt. With the voice of a celestial, heavenly being, Kharon begs: "Sir, please belt me ten times." "My pleasure," he replies and strikes leaving a red band on her back from her right shoulder to mid back under her left armpit. She convulses and wreathes but manages to hold on to the ring and not cry out or scream in pain. "One, Sir. Thank You, Sir. Please may a girl have another stroke, pretty please." She implores with a sweet angelic voice devoid of the obvious agony she is enduring. He strikes again, across the middle of her back. "Two, Sir. Thank You, Sir. Please may a girl have another stroke." She asks. "My delight," he answers. "You are charming me, Kharon." He strikes again. "Three, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl have another stroke, please." She asks. Wanting to earn a penalty stroke, her gentleman musters all this strength and lays on a stroke. Kharon is crying and drooling as she pulls herself together in this war of wills with her client. She strives to please the man. "Four, Sir. Thank You, Sir. Please may a girl have another stroke, pretty please with cheese." She implores with a sweet angelic voice totally devoid of the obvious pain she is enduring. Frustrated, he lays on a savage blow. Kharon screams, then composes herself. "Five, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl have her penalty stroke and another stroke, please." She asks. "I was surprised that you cried out, Kharon," he said. "Your desire is my command, Sir," Kharon pushes her breasts forward for the cane. Her client smiles as he lays on a cane stroke across her bare naked tits. Once done her seizes the leather belt and strikes Kharon across her shoulders and underarms. "Six, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl have another stroke, please." She asks. "Nothing pleases me more than to honor a girl's request." He declares and strikes her naked back, which is covered with whelps and wilts. "Seven, Sir. Thank You, Sir. May a girl another stroke, please." She asks. "Convince me that you really want two more strokes," her gentleman says. Kharon answers with the voice of a hopelessly aroused female: "Oh, Sir, this worthless slut begs your strong arm pleasure her with two final strokes. Lay on hard as she desires your use and abuse. Please, pretty please." The gentleman strikes twice in rapid succession, hoping to dislodge Kharon from the ring. But he fails in the battle off wills. Kharon is able to avoid the vicious, progressive punishment strokes. Kharon Ch. 08 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. While in solitary confinement, Kharon finds two challenges: First, having to survive on a daily two liter bowl of soup, which she has to consume in fifteen minutes; and second, having to tolerate the intrauterine device which arouses her sexually only to sense her bodily level of excitation and deny her a climax by electric shock. At first, she struggled by pain alone to avoid sexual arousal and excitation. She would pinch, pull, and twist her sensitive tits and clit. As time moves on, however, she becomes more and more able to control her libido. That is, while she is in isolation. When being used sexually, that is another issue. Her feeding situation is designed to ensure that all she is permitted is one large serving of bland soup each day. Moreover, she is given only fifteen minutes to consume it. On days when she is in service, she is also hydrated by the enemas. She must endure several enemas prior to being taken to the punishment room. She has managed to train her bowels to absorb some of the excess water from the enemas. Today there are a number of clients. The two other girls accepted caning offers with few strokes. Then there is an offer that looks too good to be true: "One hour of heavy petting." Kharon feels that she can endure any amount of foreplay without being aroused to the level of sexual climax or orgasm. It is only a matter of self control. The way that the intrauterine device determines if a girl is nearing climax is a function of her blood pressure, pulse rate, galvanic skin response, cerebral excitation, and other metrics. Kharon is rather pleased with her ability to control her uterus. Jean, the dungeon owner, calls Kharon her "Ice Queen." But all that may be fixing to change. After Kharon is cleaned and prepped, she is given a blond, neck-length wig and a Japanese schoolgirl outfit. Mistress Jean has some advice for Kharon: "He knows that you have orgasm denial. Expect the unexpected." Entering the punishment room, Kharon smells the aroma of food. The client, a Real Life businessman, James, is preparing some breakfast for Kharon. Already at the table is a glass of Florida orange juice and some flatware, napkin. Toast just pops up and James quickly smears real butter on the toast; he puts it on a small plate and sets it on the table. He starts some pork sausages and uses the sausage oil to grease the skillet for three scrambled eggs. In a small skillet he is making hash brown potatoes. In a flash the American style breakfast is served. Kharon eats like a starved pig. James smiles. "You had a 'knock out' on the food girl," James remarks. "Take a fifteen minute rest before we get down to business. Let your food digest." "Yes, Sir," Kharon replies and crawls onto a nearby bed still wearing her clothes and wig. James cleans up and runs the dishwasher while Kharon snoozes. Over half of the hour of "compensated time" has passed when James awakens Kharon with a kiss to her forehead. "Get completely undressed, girl," James requests. Kharon replies quickly and lies on her back in a standard supine pose. "On your belly, girl," James says and Kharon lies in the prone position. James parts her glorious hemispheres and kisses her exposed rosette, her Glory of Glories. Kharon is caught off-guard, expecting anything but a kiss on her anus. Then she feels his long tongue penetrate her asshole. She struggles to avoid sexual arousal. For the first time in months, she has to concentrate to keep her buttocks and her anal sphincters from contracting. James licks her back with the rough blade of his tongue from ass to the nape of her neck. He turns her over and pulls her hands above her head. He kisses and licks her moist armpits, then kisses and nibbles her breasts. Kharon is totally unprepared for this heavy petting. She knows that her IUD may sense a threshold and discharge an electric shock. She has been so successful at avoiding sexual arousal that the IUD is certain to have a maximal voltaic charge. She trembles and shakes at the very thought. She tries to lie completely still. Confident in his ability to excite a girl to orgasm, James parts Kharon's pussy lips and kisses and licks her tiny pearl. Kharon keeps her tight control on her libido, recalling one brutal electric shock after another. James presses two fingers into the Ice Queen's vagina. Still she remains frigid. Then James notices that Kharon's buttocks are clenched. He rolls her over in the bed and sets about exposing her comely rosette. Kharon feels weeks of training versus the unimaginable agony of repeated electric shocks. She senses total defeat as James's tongue presses against her brown star. But James hesitates. He notices that his hour is nearly done and he doesn't think that there is sufficient time remaining to bring Kharon to climax. "Get dressed, girl," James commands. "We are out of time. The next session will last two hours and there will be props: vaginal vibrator and butt plug. You didn't cum, girl, but I sure as hell did. I have to change underwear now." Kharon smiled. This was truly a battle of wills. She won the battle, but did she win the war? --- Several days pass and Kharon fears that James has forgotten her. Then there is a noise outside her cell. Jean, the dungeon, opens the cell door. Jean speaks: "There is some dude planking down big bucks for your ass for two hours of heavy petting. I have been in BDSM for years now and I'm still amazed at what people will pay for. As far as I can see all you are is a bag with three holes and some tits." Kharon blushes. "Get yourself together, let's get you prepped." Jean utters. Jean and Kharon rush to prepare Kharon for James, the paying client. Jean notices the enemas and surmises that James has fed Kharon. "You are gaining a Sugar Daddy," she remarks. Jean then lays out a Japanese schoolgirl outfit and an oriental wig. They hurry to the Punishment Room where James is waiting. Jean leaves Kharon. James has prepared a breakfast for Kharon of a Belgian waffle with maple syrup, fruit, juice, and pork sausages. Kharon eats quickly, solid food is a rariety for her. After she is done, James directs her to the bed. "Rest for the remainder of the hour," James orders. "We will start the heavy petting at the start of hour two. Does a girl understand?" "Yes, Sir," Kharon replies. She undresses and climbs into the bed, wearing only her wig. She drifts into a peaceful slumber. When something seems too good to be true, it usually is. James rinses the dishes and runs the dishwasher. He scours the skillet and uses a steel brush to clean the waffle grill. He finishes cleaning up the kitchen and settles back to read Kharon's dossier. Kharon is sleeping on her stomach. James pulls the sheets back and spreads Kharon's ass cheeks. She is expecting such and prepared herself. He checks her anus for injury. Finding her rosette to be whole and healthy, he hands Kharon a large black butt plug. "Insert this indwelling butt plug, girl," James orders. Kharon struggles and finally is able to insert the black beauty into her rectum. She is becoming arouses. She had thought that nothing anal could stimulate her sexually, but obviously she was wrong. James covers her back with kisses and turns her over. He kisses, licks, and sucks her "B" cup breasts. Then he kneads, rubs and massages her tits for a full fifteen minutes until they are rock hard and her nipples are erect, her areola puckered and she is aroused. He then hands her a remotely controlled vaginal vibrator. "Insert this, girl," he commands. Kharon slides the vibrator into her pussy. It initializes itself and adjust its oscillation in perfect osculation with her intrauterine device. Kharon is becoming hopelessly aroused and feels her orgasm pending. James kisses Kharon just as the IUD shocks her with orgasm denial. Kharon only knows on thing that hurts worse than the discharge of a fully charged indwelling BDSM IUD. That thing is a pussy kick. She stifles a scream and wreathes uncontrollably. Sweat beads on her brow and tears flow freely from her eyes. James licks up the salty sweat from her armpits and the tears from her hot pink cheeks. No sooner had she experienced the powerful orgasm denial than James is working to arouse her again. He kisses and licks all her sensitive female parts. He turns her over on her belly and jerks out her butt plug. He kisses her rosette before she is able to react. Her buttocks tremble and squirm. His slimy tongue slips into her rectum. She cannot control her libido. She struggles to keep from clenching her ass cheeks together or pinch her anal sphincters. Weeks of training taught her to keep her glorious hemispheres relaxed at all times. She was trained to permit penetration by penis, fingers, or other objects. Her anal training over arches her ability to manage her libido. Now, halfway into her second hour, she feels the irresistible urge to climax. A second electric shock strikes her like lightening. Despite her training she cries out. She urinates, wetting the bed. James smiles. "You are pleasing me," he says as he pulls back from her rear end and re-inserts the butt plug. Kharon is able to regain her composure and command her libido. She manages to speak: "A girl thanks you, Sir." James releases her early, giving her a chance to remove the toys and dress herself. She kisses him on the cheek as he leaves. 9 October 2014 Kharon Ch. 09 Disclaimer: This story is fiction cast in the future. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. "We have a situation here, Olaf," Jean, the dungeon owner reports. "Oh? Do tell," Olaf, Jean's husband replies. "One of our clients wants to disable the orgasm denial function on one of our girl's IUDs," Jean answers. "Are you talking about James and Kharon?" Olaf asks. "Yes," Jean answers. "I see an escape scenario looming on our event horizon. I see only one viable action: We must sell Kharon as soon as possible. I do not want to compromise the dungeon. And I know just the buyer: Secundus!" "Oh my goodness gracious," Olaf stammered. "That man is demanding." "He will insist on classical, traditional restraints. There will be no electronic signature to locate the girl," Jean remarks. Olaf nods his assent. --- Secundus takes ownership of Kharon. He has her intrauterine device removed and has a steel collar riveted about her neck. Once at his remote farm house, he lays down a rule for Kharon. "Every morning I will sodomize you, Kharon. You will prepare yourself naked on the bed with your ass cheeks spread and your asshole ready for penetration. Not a peep or a sound out of you, except to beg to be butt fucked. I will be wearing a condom smeared with toothpaste." Secundus explains and then adds: "Does a girl understand?" "Yes, Master," Kharon replies. She has experienced this before as punishment. She loathes and despises the very idea. "You are educated, erudite, intellectual, Kharon. But you will only use four-letter, Anglo-Saxon vulgarisms," he demands. "When you refer to your anus, you will not call it your 'rosette' or your 'Glory of Glories.' You will refer to it as your 'asshole.' When you refer to your vagina, you will not call it your 'pussy' or your 'Holy of Holies,' but rather as your 'cunt.' Do you understand?" "Yes, Master, a girl understands," she replies with an angelic voice to his condescending remark. She is insulted but knows not to speak out. She knows that his toothpaste covered penis is also a tool to punish. She will have to present her anus to him first thing every morning, no matter how sore, raw, or swollen it might happen to be. If he is in a good mood, he might even let a day pass. But, if she angers him, well .... For sure, Kharon knows that, while he is sodomizing her, he will expect her to plead for him to go faster, deeper, harder. "A girl will give a status report during breakfast, such as 'tits fine,' 'cunt wet,' and 'asshole sore.'" Secundus continues. "Girl will inform me if she is menstruating or any other physical condition." "I have done some carpentry work on this old farm house, Kharon." Secundus comments. "One bedroom has been outfitted as a detention room. This way a girl may be secured while I am away. In addition, a tether or leash can be locked onto her collar," Kharon responds, saying: "Yes, Master." --- Kharon is chained to the foot of Secundus's bed with a thick blanket and an oversized pillow. She has not had a pillow in eons. Her mind echoes various thoughts, not all of which were erotic. Now she has no device in her womb to deny her orgasms. Suddenly things appear brighter. From her deep sleep she is awakened by Secundus unlocking her chain. She knows her duty and scampers to the bed and kneeling with her glorious hemispheres parted to expose her comely rosette. She sings a heavenly refrain: "Please penetrate this girl's asshole!" Secundus hurries to put on a condom and rub toothpaste over it. He shoves his massive member into Kharon's rectum. To his amazement, she not only is tolerating the sodomy but she is also exhibiting all the behavior of an aroused female. She begs him to go harder, faster, and deeper. They cum at the same time. Secundus goes to the bathroom to prepare for work. He barks out an order for breakfast: "One scoop of oatmeal, a tablespoon of non-fat dry milk, one-half diced apple, and some raisins and blueberries." Kharon sets about filling his order. She notices a well-stocked pantry and a full refrigerator and wonders why he's eating the way he is. Then he shocks her by saying: "Fix yourself anything you want." He attaches a long chain to her collar that affords her access to most of the house but not to the front door. After Secundus leaves for work, Kharon fixes herself a three egg omelet, pork sausages, hash brown potatoes, and a large glass of orange juice. She thought about trying to break the chain or lock and running away, but that can wait until she sees what supper will be like. She is exhausted from breakfast. After a brief nap, she cleans up the kitchen. She wonders if Secundus comes home for lunch. By mid-afternoon, she decides that he is busy. It is evening when he returns, carrying a large sack of Chinese take-out. Kharon is starting to feel like being Secundus's slave isn't such a bad deal after all. After supper Secundus ties Kharon up with various ropes. She is aroused and when he runs a rope over her crotch, she cums. Secundus warns her: "I did not tell you, girl, you must have permission to cum. Or, risk a bare bottom caning or a titty paddling. Kharon shivers at the prospect of a titty paddling. "I am suffering from two incurable diseases. When I do not show up for work, they will know that I am dead and will send a slaver to take you to a prison or dungeon." Secundus says. "In the meanwhile I take dozens of pills every day and have this odious, loathsome diet." Kharon stays silent. She has experienced prisons and dungeons. As much as she might like to stay and help Secundus in his hour of need, escape is a primary priority. She wonders how she can remove the steel collar, a symbol of slavery. 11 October 2014.