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Review This Story || Author: slavegirlemily

Gorean Tavern Slut

Chapter 10

I had become so wet & vulnerable waiting that the whole area around my upper & inner thighs, my vagina & anus, felt like they had merged into a hot warm & smelly liquid jellylike mass. I loved & feared this state. I was so utterly helpless, whether waiting for him, in a delicious state of feminine sexual fear, or kneeling before him in an equally delicious & incomparably uncompromising state of love & adoring loving subservience to him. Lost in vulnerable  rapture of love & fear of his displeasure.

 

Then suddenly without any warning, or indication that somebody had entered or had been in the alcove with me. He entered me, or should I say had entered me, As I felt & heard the loud slurp of my wetness at his rough initial thrust. & his muscular

  legs pressing against the softness of my buttocks.

“Master.” I exclaimed, sobbing “Master is it you?”

In reply he loosened my hood & pushed a large pecker gag into my mouth. Buckling it tightly closed before closing the hood again. The phallus of the gag & the front of the wide leather strap, was sticky & slimy. Often a passing slave fresh from the alcoves will be stopped & told to wait on all fours, with the pecker gag in her vagina or anus. She is told to squirm, & fuck the phallus, flavouring it with her own rape soil. While he either watches or more often goes to the toilet rooms & douses himself with cool water. The taverns can get quite sticky in the evenings. When he returns, he takes the now flavoured gag

  & she is dismissed. Master had obviously flavoured this gag with a girl fresh from her last rape. The sticky mucous coating was still warm & thickly slimy.

He hadn’t even interrupted the rhythm of his rape.

Nor had he spoken a word to me, I didn’t know if it was the master who had sent me to the alcove or A passing opportunist rapist. I was terrified, convinced now that I would be whipped with the punishment whip.

Yet also desperate to please my rapist too. My miserable sobs, suffocating me in my fear as the gag choked me.

He maintained his tempo, not violent but forceful. Quite slow & steady, deliberately forcing himself fully into me than almost fully withdrawing. Instinctively I tried to grip him with my internal muscles, but only succeeded in grinding my slimy muscle fibres on his manhood magnifying his pleasure. Every few thrusts he would withdraw completely, leaving my body pleading for his penetration,

  then violently thrust back inside me. He encouraged me occasionally slapping the backs of my legs, to my muffled cries of pain.

Gorean men seem to have an almost insatiable drive for sex, drinking & physical exercise in general.

Liberated as they are from accommodating us. But we too seem to have an insatiable need & desire for them, liberated as we are from our false freedoms of pretending that we are not for them to enjoy.

His tempo quickened, he was starting to come, I too was almost in pre orgasmic ecstasy. In a reversal of most of our domination we are permitted to come, if he is inside us, unless he prohibits it, usually cruelly at the very last moment.

On the very brink of orgasm. His pleasure enhanced by the inhibition of our yielding to it. Often when we are raped in the day we are not permitted to come, but mostly in the evenings we are allowed orgasm. After all they do enjoy our hot trembling sobbing submission to them.

My body externally started to burn like it was physically aflame. Internally I felt my wet throbbing core melting into a hot white inner self focused in my belly, somewhere and yet nowhere,

  between my intimacies & my swollen breasts

He exploded inside me, as my molten inner burst in spasm after spasm of cyclic ever stronger waves of orgasm, matching the rhythm of each of his ejaculation. Seeming to throb & swell then burst in tune with his own spasmodic thrusts. He was roaring with pleasure. How I wished I was ungagged so I could sob & scream to him. But I wasn’t. I felt him subside but I couldn’t.  Suddenly he pulled out of me. I was still helpless in the throes of rapture as

he spurt on last hot splash of come on my back on my thighs. I heard him take a deep gulp of his beer.

Then he pushed himself firmly into my anus. I was still coming helplessly I sobbed in shame, him inside my most secret place. He was fiercer now, slapping strongly at my legs holding a fistful of my long hair that hung free from my hood. His size inside me was so painful too. Although we are often dildoed for punishment or humiliation, or more often merely for their amusement. Our muscles retain their youthful elasticity, to maintain the pleasure of our tightness. Making the dildo’s that much more

uncomfortable, and their rape.

He came more quickly this time. So did I. My first multiple orgasms had begin to fade when the  powerful white heat, began to swell massively  in my bottom. Then burst throbbing as he burst inside me, coming in thick warms spurts. In my ecstasy I was utterly disgraced & humiliated. Despite my wish for the popular confident girls at college, or even my experienced best friend to see me now happy in bondage. At this point I wanted to run & hide in utter shame & shameful joy.

The same sense of disgrace & humiliation when he comes in my mouth & I swallow, or masturbate for him. Obviously he wouldn’t permit me to protect my modesty like that. I am frequently anally raped publicly in the tavern, lifted onto his lap often facing away from him into the tavern, although this actually makes little difference to my disgrace. & impaled & raped.

I was washed away in orgasm, sweet shameful wanton surrender to him, for him, for him only. Washed away in loving submission to him. Gagging & choking spluttering on the phallic gag.

Its mucous spreading all over my face in the heat of the tight leather bag hood. The first time I had been hooded I thought I would choke & die. I had screamed & yelled in panic, until they had silenced me with the whip. Even now the sensation is quite disconcerting to terrifying, being gagged, especially pecker gagged, inside makes it immeasurably worse.

He pulled out of me again. I heard him stand taking another deep drink from his beer. Then dreadfully I heard him step to the right of the stocks. To the whip rack. There was a sharp crack in the air. The sound of a bullwhip. Then the sound & burning sting of the whip on my rear. I was still coming & under his whip. Then a horrid pause & another stern lash. I could hear myself squealing into my gag. My core was elsewhere, as the thick whip lashed my now incredibly tender rear quarters & seemed to turn the flesh to a burning mush. Transfigured with pain I sobbed & screamed with inescapable throbbing burning agony & misery. Under his merciless whip. At least it wasn’t the punishment whip. Rather a cross between the pleasure whip & the punishment whip, designed especially for mainly blonde earth girls, more especially so for love slaves like me. Designed to that much more painful than the plain pleasure whip. Though female flesh, under the discipline of any whip it feels like each blow is the most painful thing ever, for that eternity of punishment. Surprisingly the other girls are jealous of us for this.

As the saying goes the more beautiful she is found the harsher & stricter her treatment.

Each lash was deliberately timed & placed to overlap & build on the pain of the preceding lash. A crescendo or near orgasm of pain. & I was still coming too. When he stopped after 30 or so lashes. I am unable to count anymore, as dumbly stupid & prettily vacant of abstract intellectual concepts in my mind.

Internally vacuous illiterate & innumerate, as externally I am expected to be bimbo beautiful & breathlessly vacant.

I was released from the stocks & then unhooded, & ungagged, released from the bracelets. I hurriedly crawled over his feet kissing them crying frightened. He dangled the still warm blade of the whip over my lips & I kissed the well worn black leather in terror of it. A token was pushed into my mouth.

“Yes Master at once Master.”

I crawled off to fetch his drink the waves of my coming, had only just started to ebb away.

It wasn’t until I returned with his beer & was lifting it to him begging to please him again that he spoke. Also when my last orgasm faded

“You may clean me now

emily.” He said taking the cup, admiring the deep flush evident on my upper body

Relief flooded through me, it was him. I would not be punishment whipped, as least not for now.  I covered his loins

  with more grateful kisses & licks as I cleaned him.

“Thank you for coming to the alcove Master, thank you for enjoying my rape Master, for permitting you to come to you Master, thank you Master.”

“Kiss me more intimately now slave.” I was told brusquely.


Review This Story || Author: slavegirlemily
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