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Review This Story || Author: slavegirlemily

Gorean Tavern Slut

Chapter 7

My veil was plastered to my lips, as were my erect belled nipples clinging stickily to my thin apron. Stuck & sticky with his pleasure. All I could smell was his pleasure & my hot need. I kept my eyes closed as was proper for a slave kneeling to the wall. Unless explicitly instructed or permitted a woman is proscribed everything. Nothing is hers. When she is not in under male  instruction she should be unobtrusive, quiet, still, her eyes closed. Her thoughts should be of  how best to please her master or her next master. We are instructed to concentrate in minute detail on a particular detail in every aspect of service. Whether this is kissing his feet, plumping her lips for fellatio, opening her thighs to him, or kissing his cup. But to concentrate on just one instant of service, like the first lick or kiss of the frenulum & how to improve that for his pleasure. A girl must also be ever thankful to be permitted to serve the men. Grateful to be fed & watered, for each breath she is permitted by her owners.

Thankful to be owned.

We also have simple mantras to repeat to ourselves. Such as;

I am a slave

I am owned by men

I love being a slave

I love being owned by men

I am for Masters

pleasure

I love being

  for Masters pleasure

I love Masters

pleasure

I love being Masters

slave

If Master is not pleased I will be punished

If Master is not pleased I should be punished

If Master is not pleased I want to be punished

I love Master punishment

 

I love Master

I obey Master

I fear Master

I love Master

He is a man

He is free

He is a person

I am not, I am a slave girl,

He owns me

I love Master

I am tears after His touch

I am in tears at dismissal

I love Master

We are to repeat these & similar simplistic feminine homilies to ourselves, filling our thoughts with gratitude to our owners toleration of us. This is especially helpful for earth girls like me, in purging the improper thoughts & desires from our former lives. Our feeble & inferior musings & emotions should have a sole purpose, obedience to male pleasure.

Behind me I heard Master order another girl to fetch him more beer. Then male voices. I am unable to understand male speech as the language is segregated into superior & inferior vocabularies. There is male speech, male to female speech, female to male speech & female to female speech. The discourse between master & slave is quite curt, dismissive, instructive, to her inferiority. Her replies respectful & submissive infused with feminine  trepidation,  & her anxiety to please him. A limited emotional submissive lexis. Lacking in all abstract & intellectual concepts except the most menial & sexual notions. Belying her status always in the 3rd person, denying her personhood. Speech between slavegirl & slavegirl, when & rarely permitted, quietly giddy, gushing with emotion. Scandalised, slightly giggly & coloured with a deep sense of inferiority & shame, self consciously aware that you are female in an utterly  male dominated society. But also jealously wanton

  & needful, severely critical of any lacking in her behaviour.

Indeed most private households have a first girl who is responsible for the discipline of  the other slaves. And as  such she is very strict & harsh with her charges. Quick to whip for even the slightest imagined failings. Finding severe fault with many things below male notice. She is given a quirt a  thin springy cane like whip to cajole her charges with. She will use it with the expertise of one who has felt its sting herself. Inflicting stinging lashes on the most tender part of the backs of the legs or between the legs. Fearful herself that any failings in chores that attracts punishment from her Master, she will also receive the same punishment & her place as first girl. The position is frequently rotated in any case. & she then will find her fellow slaves less than forgiving. The men find this quite amusing

  & useful in disciplinary terms.

Naturally this rotation doesn’t include earth girls. We are considered worthless & inferior even in comparison with Gorean slave girls. As such we are very strictly disciplined & harshly punished. By both the Master & the first girl. Often her painful attentions tinged with a mixture of disdain & jealousy towards the ‘blonde blow job slut’. Earth girls having been formerly & improperly free are considered to be in need of strict & painful discipline. Both in terms of punishment for any improper liberties they may have taken advantage of, & also to correct their behaviours. There is also the added pleasure of disciplining a beautiful woman, in seeing her crying at your feet. I might add that although we are frightened of and abhor the whip, we also love our

masters uncompromising strictness.

The former first girl will find herself treated akin to an earth girl by the new whip hand, to her chagrin. But we can take no satisfaction in that as soon enough she might be first girl again.

Peasant girls make excellent & demanding first girls. Often when they are brought from the farmlands to the slave markets in large droves. A couple of girls will be trusted & selected as herders to drive the girls along with whips, mainly on their experience with other domestic animals. These herds of  peasant girls are often not hooded or bound but just driven along like cattle.

Unlike earth girls who are hooded & heavily constrained or city girls who are similarly physically restrained.

There was male laughter, then footsteps towards me & a leather hood was pulled roughly over my head. It was tight & clammy, slimy with cum from previous occupants. He buckled it under my chin then jerked me to my feet with the attached leash. The leash is quite long but I was held bent over at my waist, my head just below his belt. With the other end of the leash he struck me between the legs. Stung I yelped with pain & impotent pique.

They laughed again.

I sobbed with humiliation yet how I loved to be so powerless with such men.

Another stinging lash.

“Come along slut.” I was yanked forwards

Nearly being pulled off my feet, I yelped again in pain & alarm, in the darkness of the hood.

More laughter as I was pulled blindly through the tavern. Pushed & slapped aside by the men in the busy tavern. The whisper of submissive respect to the leash master, & the warm flesh of other serving girls hurriedly sliding past me, anxious not to keep their own masters waiting. My handler though in no particular hurry, harried me along with random lashes. Then he stopped to chat to another master for a few minutes, sill holding me uncomfortably bent over. The other master must have also been leading a slavegirl as she was handed over to my charge & the two of us were held pinioned below his belt. The two men chatted idly for five minutes or so, before parting & then were both dragged away to the alcoves. I was pushed to my knees & left I can only assume outside an alcove.

As the other girl was led inside. There were terse words I couldn’t make out the words but the tone was harsh & then a loud slap & sob. I was dragged forward & then pushed me through the heavy leather curtain of an alcove.

He pushed me to my knees & pressed me into the low wooden stocks. My hooded face pressed to the floor, he hooked my ankle chain to the stocks so that my knees were pressed up against the board. My labial lips & anus vulnerable exposed tilted upwards.

The alcove already stank of sex, at least one girl had already been raped in here, but at a guess I would reckon at least 2. The thin leather rape mat under my shins was already quite unpleasantly clammy & sticky.

He put his fingers between my legs teasing out the bell attached to my clitoris. Flicking his finger pinging it, his finger caught the erect tissue stinging it. I whimpered

, he flicked it again, catching the ring holding the bell. I yelped my eyes stinging with tears. In some taverns the girls have a small coin attached on the same ring, identifying the tavern. Although not the intended purpose, quite often the master will rip the coin from between her legs after he has finished with her. & although this doesn’t rip the tissue it feels like it is & is very painful. Thankfully not in this tavern but soon it was to be introduced.

“What a little slut you are

emily”

“Yes Master, emily is a slut Master.”

“Perhaps I should rape you,

emily & leave you holding the punishment whip ready for your Master to arrive”

If a girl left in the alcoves, waiting for her Master is raped before he arrives, she is punished. She is seen as being more desperate to satisfy her own needs, thus her smell & the wet sounds of her squidging thighs invited her rape by a passing master. Rather than more properly the smell of her slave heat & wet squirming thighs waiting to please the Master who had sent her to the alcoves. If a passing master is tempted to rape her, he will leave the punishment whip clutched in her trembling fearful buttocks waiting for her use master to arrive. Often he will beat her himself after her rape, or before & after. This is quite a pleasurable game for them. Slipping into the alcoves & raping us, often not saying anything to us & if not gagging us, not permitting us to speak.

Then leaving us sobbing in misery waiting for the punishment whip.

Frequently they will enter an alcove quietly & observe us. Most masters are very good at this most having military experience. We only know they are there because we can hear their breathing. Often we imagine they are there when they aren’t, or have already slipped out of the alcove as silently as they entered. Sometimes they might finger us, testing our wetness then leave with a dismissive tsk. The sound is quite difficult to describe but indicates contempt for the  filth of a slavegirl.

Or a slap. For this reason we usually are not gagged in the alcoves while we wait. So we sob & beg at each imagined or not imagined presence.

“Master

are you there?”

To be met with silence, or a simple

“Be silent slut!”

Or the gag.

The tight leather hoods are hand polished & buffed to be patent leather like in feel and appearance, on both the interior & exterior. They have no openings or vents but you can just about breathe through the leather.  Buckled under the chin they come in two colours black & rape red, a bright vibrant, racing red or blood, like scarlet. Some taverns have

a range different colours, but generally it is discipline black or pleasure red. The leather rape mats are all red too as are the leather alcove curtains. There are a couple of alcoves outfitted in black, these are larger alcoves usually used for punishment or gang rape, typically of the dancing slaves at the end of the evening.

We are instructed to close our eyes before being hooded so are not permitted to know what colour the hood is. If you see a girl being led away in the black hood, you might reasonably assume she is to be at the very least pleasure whipped & possibly raped. A red hood might signify just her rape, or a light whipping, or neither

it simply depends on the masters will.

The evening before yesterday I was sent hooded to the stocks and shortly afterwards another slave was sent to join me. She is confined in the stocks next to me, our soft bodies pressed together. Sobbing convulsively with fright, I finally manage to calm down enough to ask her.

“Slave can you see what colour this ones hood is?”

An equally fearful response

“This girl is hooded too.”

“What colour is your hood?”

Sobbing “This girl doesn’t know.”

Both of us crying anxiously now

This girl hope your hood is red.”

“This girl hope your hood is red too slave.”

The curtain opens and a Master enters

,.

“Master

have you come to punish us, Master?”

He doesn’t speak, we need no further prompting

  and both fall silent.

I feel him behind me a small dildo like device is pushed into my vagina. The pecker gag is already very slimy & difficult to hold. I hear him insert one into her. The curtain closes again but neither of us dares utter a word. A few tense minutes pass & I hear him take the dildo device from her. My hood is opened partially & the slimy device is pushed into my mouth, filling it. He buckles it tightly closed & then closes the hood. He gags her similarly with mine.

“That sounds better.” He says curtly “Doesn’t it slaves?”

Heavily gagged our muffled reply is barely audible & completely unintelligible.

“Much better!”

Standing again we both sense him go to the whip rack. The sharp terrible crack of the punishment whip in mid air then a single powerful blow simultaneously across the backs of legs, in the tender crease that joins buttock to thigh. I hear her muffled squeal of pain  through her gag as she hears mine. The involuntary exclamation of pain seems to drive the gag deeper into my mouth, the head of the phallus pressing against the back of my throat. Increasing the helpless choking  sensation.Our tender bottoms now burning & stinging with fire. The whip is hung between us, its thick brutal blade hangs in the cleavage like join of our buttocks. He leaves again closing the curtain & we wait sobbing now in pain & fear. Both of us hoping that he will not whip us again, or that the other will be whipped & not her, or that at least her whipping might be more lenient than the others.

& both of us knowing that he will do as he pleases & most likely we will both be beaten.

We both are whipped & horribly, then he anally rapes her while I hold the whip in my smarting burning buttocks, clenched fearfully despite the subcutaneous bruising, lest I drop it & merit another whipping. I hear her coming loudly even through her gag & him grunting with pleasure. She cleans him while I wait fearfully in the stocks.

  

When she has finished cleaning him the tavern is nearly closing & the dancers are being removed from the cages. They are all pushed into the alcove 4 girls & me we are chained together, all hooded. I seem to be the only one gagged I guess from the frightened voices of the other girls. The whip is taken from me & all five of us are lashed liberally while the other men laugh drunkenly.

Then the raping starts. Roughly slapped & penetrated over & over again, still crying in helpless orgasm as the next master violates us.  The other girl kneels to one side ready to clean the men with her tongue & fetch them drinks. We are raped about twenty times, before the men are satisfied. Exhausted we are pushed soiled & sticky into the holding cage with the other slaves. Soiled & sticky,

bruised , crying still in multiple orgasm.

But that was just another night.

He asked the question again

“Perhaps I should rape you,

emily & leave you holding the punishment whip ready for your Master to arrive, would you like me to rape you emily”

“Please Master, emily only wishes to be pleasing.”

“Beg me to rape you girl.”

“Master emily begs your touch, begs for you to enjoy her pleasures Master.”

“You want to feel me inside your wet little hole do you slave.”

“Yes Master, emily aches to hold you in her slave heat & please you.”

  

“Even if that means you will be whipped slave?”

“Yes Master emily begs your rape.”

I was almost beside myself with helpless desire to please him now

 

“I can smell your heat slave”

“Yes Master, please rape

emily Master.”

“I can hear the juice of your thighs inviting me slave.”

“Please Master…”

He pressed his fingers between my labial lips spreading them & soaking his finger & my thighs.

“I can feel your slave filth

emily”

“Please Master, please rape

emily.”

He wiped his wet palm on my outer thigh. Then slapped me hard between the legs on my spread lips. I cried out in sudden startled pain.

Then another slap across my bottom. He wiped his hand once again.

“Slut!”

“Yes Master.” I sobbed

“Stew & simmer well for your Master.”

“Yes Master.”

“He will be along shortly.”

“Or perhaps another Master will smell your heat, & rape you.”

“Yes Master.” I was crying.

This time another untranslatable derogatory Gorean sound rather than word. Roughly translated as filthy little cunt, but much more pejorative.

I heard the curtain close.

I sobbed captive in the darkness of my hood.

My sticky veil sodden with his pleasure was plastered across my lips inside the hood, causing each breath to catch, making me gasp & pant in the tight leather hood.

I was so wet & slick now, that I could barely move my thighs without an accompaniment  of  humiliating slippery sounds. Quite literally lathered & coated in

  my slave heat & the stale warm odour of sex in the alcove.

The alcoves are not very well ventilated. Although they have vents that can be opened for when the

  Master wishes to sleep overnight during the evening the vents are kept closed. The men seem to enjoy raping us in the sticky heat, in the smell of our excitement. After all they are cleaned afterwards.

There is a tiled bathing room where two girls wait to clean & dry masters with warm scented water & cooling balms. This like being in the kitchens in the evenings is not a popular chore, fortunately the rota rarely includes earth girls. If a girl is selected for these chores she strives  her utmost to be sexually pleasing, & so not

  be stuck there again in the near future.

We are not so pampered. We are just instructed to reverse our veils & aprons, licking them clean of any exterior excess signs of rape. This has the effect of pushing any moist use inwards making the silk very clammy & even more slippery, clinging with trashy allure to our curves, catching attractively on taut exited nipples. We are liberally  sprayed almost doused with cheap perfume, & sent back to the serving area.

 

I thought I could hear the curtain opening & then someone behind me, or so I thought.

“Master is that you?”

Silence

“Master…?”

Then the sound of the curtains closing

opening , or was it just my imagination.

I was almost frantic, my imagination running wild.

So desperate not to taste the punishment whip. It is so, so horrid, your legs & bottom smart  horribly for days.  The thick brutal bullwhip feels like it is cutting bluntly through your flesh to your very bones. It only leaves the surface pink & puffy, deeply reddened for a couple of hours. But underneath the weal’s chafe excruciatingly for much longer, especially at the junctures where the lashes  have crisscrossed. One lash is enough to reduce even the most defiant new slave inducing her to complete & terrified obedience. A girl feels herself outrageously fortunate if her master is lenient enough to limit her punishment

  to 20 lashes. There is simply barely a comparison in terms of pain at the point of contact between leather & flesh. Possibly the moment when the white hot branding iron first touches your skin, vaporising the skin & your independent personhood. Or the moment when the almost boiling transport enema is inserted into your anus, scarcely avoiding scalding your anal passage.

In fact the men rarely enter the alcoves unless they intend to rape you, or are seriously considering raping you. But masters will deliberately slap or rustle the curtain as they pass, sometimes poising to enjoy the cries of sexual fear from within the alcove. & possibly being tempted to enter & rape the slut

who’s cries appeal to them.

But mostly it was simply my fervid fearful imagination.

In some of the other alcoves I could hear girls being used, the cries of helpless pleasure  at his touch, the happy sounds of his satisfaction. Often a manly roar of joy as he comes. While I waited & waited, each second

like an hour in the hood.

In one of the other alcoves a girl was being whipped with the pleasure whip. The short riding crop the most common of the pleasure whips. So named not for her pleasure but the urgency it gives her desire to be pleasing to him. Stinging with tender pain, fearful of a repeat, or worse beating, we are so anxious to please. I recognised her voice, she had been named adele, just after I had been renamed from adele to emily. She was also a hot blonde & from earth. I had often served with her, when a master wants a twosome. We both have the very light golden blonde hair, that is relatively rare on Gorean girls. More common is the white Scandinavian blondeness, or a whiteness that looks like peroxide blonde but is natural here. Our blondeness is sought in the import market, although many brunettes & other hair colours  also fall hapless victim to the slavers. I was often jealous of her and she of me, & often filled with shameful sapphic feelings for her. She was whimpering fearfully and sobbing at each lash. At a guess I would say she was still in the darkness of her hood.

& probably standing her wrist manacles attached to her ankles to better facilitate the application of the crop pleasure whip. I couldn’t make out her masters questions or her half moaned whimpered replies. But from tone his enjoyment at her distress at her preparation was obvious. I was glad & jealous too. & even more so when I heard her beating stop & a loud squelch and moan of need as he entered her.

Oh Master, please come soon.

Sometimes they leave you for over an hour, sometimes they lose interest in your rape & you are sent back to wait in the serving cage.

In the darkness of my hood I hoped he would come & wondered  how he rigorously intended to

  apply the “strictness with which” he intended to enjoy my “obedience & intimate service”

There are a few varieties of pleasure whip.

Would he be as strict as adele’s master, secretly I hoped so. The men know & enjoy exploiting this shame. Or would he be stricter.

How in awe of them I was & how wonderfully powerless & vulnerable to their lusts.

I waited listening to other slaves in ecstasy at their surrender.

& the phantoms of my imagination.

I waited my body trembling & quivering prettily captive in the stock.


Review This Story || Author: slavegirlemily
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