Moving Day

Clicking the pic will take you to Melody

 I want to tell all of you who frequently visit my blog that I'm moving. 
Not very far. Just around the corner... where the rent is cheaper. 

But why are you moving? *Whines and Boos* 

Click this pic to see my new blog

 I am moving because I am taking on an exciting new pen-name. Melody Parks. She's really just the other half of my split personality. But we made this pack... like when we were 3. And well, she's holding me to it. 
I lose both pinky fingers and my big toe if I renig on this deal. Thus you see the dilemma.   

If you didn't click any of the other pics click this one.

Then there is the real reason... Which is depressing and horrible. A real horror story, I'm telling you.

I'm going to relate a bit of this horror flick to you simply because what happened to me CLOULD also happen to you. Although it's probably unlikely because I am that special kind of weirdness that end up in all freak accidents.

So here's what happened. Amazon tossed my first book in their dungeon. They didn't like the cover and they didn't like the title (Abduction, Seduction, and the making of a slave)
Apparently Abduction is a no no in titles.
Okay- so your book was in the dungeon... the publisher re-covered it and renamed it. It got put back up.. No big deal, right?

It wasn't a big deal until every book thereafter was labeled adult and tossed in the dungeon. Sure they got pulled out eventually, but still... I learned my lesson with the first book and both covers and content have been according to amazons guidelines. Didn't seem to matter. LA has a new release... POOF dungeon. Then in Feb... for no good or apparent reason whatsoever amazon pulled down the first book in 'The Story of L' Trilogy. They have flat out refused to put it back up. It does not violate their terms in any way. Go Figure! BLAH!

So here's the deal. Being an online author is hard.. like really hard. So when amazon makes it even harder... especially when they take their cut of the sales... well, it just makes me want to choke somebody. But not you... I like you guys.

If you'd like to keep following me under my new name you can find me here.Melody Parks


If any of you might feel so inclined. I would really appreciate if you shared this post so other also know where and why I'm moving.


Thank you all for stopping... and have a unusually pleasant day! 

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Breif Relief

Greetings Everyone. Do you know what day it is? Yup, it's Wednesday, also Hump Day and best of all... #DungeonCrawl Day! 
Last week L got her first taste of The Inns dungeon with Master C where she received her first 'real' punishment. As I recall the experience left her in the dark. 
What must she think of the man who spanked, gagged and whipped her with his crop? Jerk? Meanie? Abusive? Monster?
Let's find out... 

 When L opened her eyes she found herself cradled in Master C's arms. He was holding her in his lap while sitting on her cot in cell nine, softly caressing her face to bring her around. The ball gag was gone, the irons were gone but the pain was still hot and burning to her backside, thighs and chest. 

The light was dim but she could see Master C's face. He was looking down at her with tender curiosity in his eyes that brought tears anew to L's. She wanted to reach up and touch the soft beard on his face, but she resisted. 
"Shhh…the punishment is over, L. You did very well once the gag was in place and I am very proud of you." He bent and kissed her sweat-dampened hair, starting to rock her a little while he held her. His voice soothed her and although her body ached and burned in every place imaginable, his words brought her an incomparable comfort, –he was proud of her.  

He continued to caress her body with the tenderest touch she had ever felt. He took care not to braze her welts or graze the deeply reddened areas on her breasts. Instead he focused on her neck, her face, and her lips. L curled her head into his chest, breathing him in, accepting this minor comfort and wishing all the while that it were Trey that was holding her. Trey would never have beaten her like that, and now that the punishment, which seemed far too extreme, was over, she wondered how Master C could go so easily from one extreme to the other. 

"L, you need to drink something. I've ordered that your dinner be brought to you here and although you are probably not hungry, I do insist that you replenish your body of fluids." His words were tender, almost loving as he stroked the hair away from her forehead before lifting her and positioning her so that only her head remained on his lap, while she lay curled on her side, looking away from him. 
L said nothing in return. 

He stayed with her, comforting and caressing her back and shoulders until Sir Randolph came and left a tray of food and drink at the end of her cot. Master C helped L to sit up. She winced at the painful marks to her butt and thighs. He handed her the tall glass of juice and rubbed her back softly while she consumed it. Her hands were shaking so bad that she used both hands to drink it. It felt refreshingly good to her dry lips and throat. 

"Your irons will be left off for the remainder of the evening, L, and I suggest that you get some sleep after you've eaten. Tomorrow morning your etiquette training will begin and you are going need your strength. Sir Randolph has been assigned to your personal care, and tomorrow he will take responsibility for cleaning and preparing you for the day's events." He brushed his hand down the side of her cheek and then kissed the crown of her head before standing to leave. 

L had a strong urge to ask him not to go. That she wanted him to stay with her and hold her, but this also confused her. She didn't understand why she wanted the very man who had caused her this shame and this hurt to remain anywhere near her. After Master C had left, L also drank the water left for her and picked sparingly at a few bites of the food before curling up on her little cot, hugging the cotton linens. 
Her mind was in a state of confusion, she called out in tiny whispers "Trey, Trey, what have you done to me? Why do wish for me to endure this awful place?" L's eyes burned from the tears and her body still trembled each time she moved even the tiniest bit to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. 

Trey had told her that everything that happened to her here would be an extension of –his own hand! It started to occur to her that Trey wanted her to be more humble, more willing and open to the things he wanted to do to her, but that she had begged the refusal of. He had wanted her to get her nipples pierced after she agreed to become his submissive, but she had begged him to reconsider, and he had. Now though, Mistress C's words resounded in her mind –piercings for these, silver, she is to pale for gold, size two. 
It became obvious to L that this was Trey's way of molding her to suit his needs, wants and desires. Here she would endure everything he wished to impose upon her without actually doing so himself, –coward! Before long, L found she was unable to struggle with aimless thoughts strewing through her mind and gave way to an uncomfortable state of motionless sleep.

Thanks for visiting the dungeon today folks. I wish you all a very happy week, and encourage you to check out some of the other dungeon doors below... great and wondrous treats await you!  

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Not what she expected

Holy-shit on a stick it's Wednesday again, which means the RTK-Dungeon-Crawl- Yay!
Please come in and make yourself comfortable. I've made popcorn for this weeks crawl, please help yourself and lets get this punishment party started. 

No throwing popcorn during the show or you will risk the wrath of the Dungeon Dom!
Long excerpt this week, hence... the popcorn 





As promised from last weeks Crawl, L will be getting up close and personal with Master C for the first time, although not the way she might have expected. 
I feel I should issue a warning for the end of this snippet, it does not end faintly... then again, maybe it does. 

There were six concrete steps that led to a small landing with a suspended light bulb and then turned to accompany six more steps that led to the next door. Using a skeleton key he unlocked the heavy door and led her into a room that looked very much like a sex dungeon. It had the same feel as the cells not far below- with slightly better lighting.
L started to regret having ever agreed to this. Large eyebolts were attached to various places along the gray block walls. There were stone slabs in each of the four corners, which also had eyebolts in them. What was more discerning to L though, were the devices she beheld. She knew what the St. Andrews cross was, and she knew what the wooden saw horses were probably for. But she had never seen anything like the table in the middle of the room. It had three sections to it that seemed to be adjustable. Hanging off the sides of it were iron chains at the head and the foot. Not too far beyond that she noticed a stock-aid device.
There were also three large wooden polished poles on the far side of the room and a large wooden round table, which accompanied six wooden stools. Master C sat on one of the stone slabs to her right of entering. He thanked the man he called, Sir Randolph, and dismissed him just as he placed L before Master C and let go of her shackled wrists. Sir Randolph bowed to Master C and left the room.

"Kneel, L," he ordered.
 She complied swiftly dropping down to her knees.

"You were kindly told upon entering The Inn, to please have a seat. You took forty-five minutes to follow that order, L, and as a result of that you will now spend forty-five minutes in the ROR with me for it." He walked around L three times with a riding crop in his hand while saying this. He used the crop to caress the rounds of her breasts, grazing her nipples and then to brush the still wet strands of hair from her shoulders. "One thing I will however commend you for is that you have held your tongue. This in my opinion does show that you do indeed have promise of becoming an obedient slave. Undoubtedly, you have questions and curiosities as to what will happen to you here for the next fourteen days. However, you are not to ask or implore of anyone at anytime. You will be informed of all you need to know as WE see fit. Do you understand this, L?" His voice was stern, dark, but yet somehow soothing.

"Yes, Sir" L answered quietly.
Master C took up and handful of L's hair and pulled her head back slowly to meet his dark brown almost black deep-set eyes. Haunting eyes, L thought as he forced her to look at him. "I am not a Sir, L, I am a Master and you will address me as such when required to use your tongue." He said firmly and dropped her head forward in haste.

Wishing to redeem herself quickly, L said, "Yes, Master C."
Master C had changed his soft billowy tunic for a snug fitting black leather vest, sleeveless, with three emboldened sliver buttons stopping just above his sternum on his breastbone. The muscles on his chest were firm and tight, his arms rather lanky, yet the form of their toned muscles viable and visible. Master C once again took a seat just in front of her on the cold stone slab and studied her for a moment, his hand on his chin rubbing the short hairs of his half beard.

"Trey, has informed us that he has never punished you, L, is this true?" he asked, his dark voice sounding bemused.

"Trey has spanked me before, Master C." L kept her head down while she gave her answer in a soft voice. Inside her nerves were trembling.

"I see, but was that spanking reserved as a form of punishment?"

"No, Master C." L wanted so badly to peek up through her lashes and glimpse his face, but she feared if he caught her, his wrath might be uncanny. She was still puzzled by how he'd known she hadn't sat down right away. Nor did she think it fair to be punished for something she didn't know she was violating.

"You are going to be punished while you are here, L. You will be punished for any and ALL disobedience no matter how small or petty you may feel it to be." He paused. "For the next thirty minutes I am going to bring you to the brink of your tolerance, and then I am going to push you past it. I think it important for us to know your limits ahead of time, so that we can focus on your endurance as well as your training." He stood and took hold of L's wrist irons and lifted her. "Stand up."
L stood up, but kept her head lowered. Master C walked over and picked up one of the wooden stools near the big round table and came back. L, now somewhat frightened, didn't dare herself to follow his movements. He set the stool down behind her and sat on it.
"Turn around L, and position yourself across my lap. It's time you learn the difference between a playful spanking and a real one," he ordered in his dark but even tone.

L felt chills riding her spine as she turned around. Master C helped guide her tethered wrists and body as she lay over his lap. L felt awkward across his thighs and the irons on her wrists felt heavier. Master C's hands were broad and warm on her backside as he smoothed them across her supple buttocks.
"You have very fair skin." His voice was daunting and she wished he would just get on with it. He pawed at her cheeks, squeezing them, testing the pliability of her flesh. L's body stiffened and he chuckled. "Are you scared, L?"

"Yes, Master C" her voice wavered.
Then his hand came down on her backside, swift and hard. L's body jolted and she bit at her bottom lip, but refused to cry out. Again his hand came down, but on her other cheek and her legs stiffened. She felt him adjust his right knee and then in quick hard succession he laid some heat to her jiggling mounds of flesh. L started to squirm and whine through her tightly pressed lips. Master C did not stop though. Over and over he struck her cheeks and she began to buck in refute. She curled her legs up in an attempt to hinder him. He forced them back down and delivered a blow to the back of her thighs. She started to yelp as his hand caught spots he had previously struck.
"Do not refuse me, L," he growled, his voice a deep baritone.

L forced herself to stop struggling.
"Good girl," he said softly and stopped only long enough to retrieve a paddle that she had not seen him get. "Strong willed aren't you, L?" He gave her no time to answer and smacked her bottom with the heavy wooden paddle.

L couldn't contain herself and she cried out in a shrill, tremor of a scream. Her fists were balled up tight as he delivered more hard smacks that made her lurch, buck, and cry out. Tears were now streaming from L's eyes as she wailed at the serve pain to her bottom. Out of reflex she curled her legs again, only to have the paddle connect with her thighs and parts of her calves. "STOP…PLEASE," L lamented.
She imagined that her butt must be cherry red by now. Fire seared through her and she couldn't control her sobs and screams any longer. Master C only tightened his hold around her waist and then he brought one of his legs over the top of her thighs so that she couldn't curl up her legs anymore.
This is when his blows became the hardest of all. L thought that her rear must have been bleeding by now with the force he was using.
Her pelvis was partly touching the edge of wooden stool and each time he brought down the paddle she was compelled to thrust forward causing pain to her front as well as her backside. L was frantic and desperate for this to stop, her fists now banging down on the concrete floor, the irons biting at her wrists with each impact as she cried out. One shrieking scream after another until they built into a steady crescendo. Her voice filled the room and echoed off the walls and then finally he stopped. She could hear him breathing hard as her trembling body continued to flinch and jerk.

L couldn't stop the sobs erupting from her throat, nor the tears streaming from her eyes. Surely this was far too severe to be called punishment, this was abuse and L wanted out of here and away from his man –Right Now! Before she could state this though, Master C pulled her up from his lap and put her on her knees next to the stool.
"Get up, L," he said taking hold of her irons.
L got up on very shaky legs, her voice trembling and said. "I want to leave!"

"Of course you do, L," he laughed as he said this. "But you are not going to leave. You remember signing the contract, don't you?"  He took hold of her irons with one hand and held her by her waist with the other and guided her over to a stone slab.

"Yes, I signed it, but I never agreed to be abused like this." She fought to keep her voice steady. Master C picked her up and sat her burning and inflamed buttocks on the rough stone slab.

"This is NOT abuse, L. This is punishment, REAL punishment, and nothing more, punishment in which you in fact agreed to when you signed our document." His voice was smooth, even, and artfully dark again. He stood back a couple of steps and observed her quaking body before saying, "And to think that I commended you only moments ago for your ability to hold your tongue." He slowly shook his head as he approached her.

The coolness of the stone slab felt good to L's burning cheeks and thighs but it also bit at the inflamed and seared flesh like sandpaper. Horror suddenly struck through her as his voice shrouded her mind. –But you are not going to leave. Panic struck and she started to sob again, -I can't do this, it's too much, each small movement she made causing the rough surface beneath her to inflict little stinging bites to her bottom.
Master C stood before L and started to unlock the padlock that held her wrist irons together.

"Please, Master C," she paused and another heaving sob poured from her as she wrought up the courage to go on. "I had no idea what I was getting into," She said as he took hold of her right wrist and walked to the edge of the stone slab and then pulled her arm back, stretching it so that he could attach the iron to the eyebolt at the corner of the slab. "Master C, what are you doing?" Her voice cracked, but it was as though he did not even hear her.

He walked back around in front of her put his finger under her chin and lifted her red tear-stained face to meet his while taking her left wrist into his other hand. "Hush now," he whispered, looking her deep in the eyes and then he leaned forward and delivered a soft cool lingering kiss to her forehead before proceeding and attaching her left wrist also behind her.
L couldn't believe he wasn't going to let her go as she watched him go to a cabinet that was previously blocked by the door when she had been brought into the room. The irons were snug on her wrists in this position. She flattened out her hands and arched her back in attempts to alleviate some of the pressure.

"I am going to do you a courtesy," he said, walking back towards her.
 L's eyes then beheld what he had gone to get. A strap of brown leather hung from his palm, a little gold buckle on one end. His fingers closed over what she assumed to be a ball gag.

"Noooooo…please," she sobbed.

"This is for your own good, L," he paused, looping one end of the leather into the buckle. "Not only did you agree to being punished for your disobedience but you also agreed to give up all your constitutional rights, INCLUDING the freedom of speech."
He started to put the leather band around L's head and she saw the large black ball of the gag.

L, in her own defense pulled away from this attempt, which for her was not a good choice. Master C was swift to deliver a harsh slap to her face causing her to cry out, and when she did, Master C forced the ball into her mouth and held the back of her neck along with a handful of her hair sternly.
"You are incurring more punishments, L, I suggest you relinquish your desire to fight me or we will be here ALL night." His dark eyes blazed into her terrified, tear filled ones. "Will you allow me to attach this properly now, L, or should I ring for some assistance? I assure you that would not be good…for you!"

L nodded her head to the best of her ability as new tears streamed down her face, burning her cheek where he had slapped her. Master C made quick of attaching the ball gag securely and then went about attaching each of her ankles to the side edges of the stone slab, spreading her legs so that they reached the irons.
She found it hard to release the pent up sobs with this hard rubber tasting ball in her mouth. She also found it near impossible to so much as swallow. The ball gag was a new experience for L. She had seen them plenty of times, but never before had one in her own mouth. Drool was just starting to accumulate at the corners of her lips as Master C finished with her ankles and stood up, positioning himself between her open thighs. He put one hand on each thigh and she tensed up immediately.

"Calm down, L, I'm sure you didn't fully understand the scope of what you were getting yourself into last night before you signed on the dotted line; most pledges don't. If Trey had told you how you were to be punished, you'd have probably never agreed to do him the honor of becoming his pledge to us."
He paused and ran his thumbs along the soft yet unscathed skin of her inner thighs, taking time to look at them in their milky white admiration.
"I learned a lot about you in your forty-five minutes of anticipation in the waiting area L. We have a lot of work to do from here on out. The first thing you need to learn is to surrender yourself…fully and completely." He drew his hands further up her thighs carefully watching the look in her eyes. "You're to become a slave, L, NOT a submissive as you fool yourself to be now, but a real slave. This means that you no longer have the right to beg for freedoms and doing so will only incur more and harsher punishments."
His fingers reached the crease of her thighs and she squawked behind the gag. "No one here will actually harm you, L. I see the terror in your beautiful hazel eyes right now, but trust me. I do not pity you because of it. The pain inflicted during punishment is designed to teach you, and humble you. I suggest you start allowing that to happen."
He pressed his thumbs against her warm smooth labia lips and caressed them softly. L whimpered and hung her head, avoiding his dark piercing eyes. "Not a single scar will be placed upon your decadent, beautiful body, L. Welts will serve as stern reminder as you learn what an honor it will become to be a slave for the S.S.S. The day you leave here I can promise you that you will wear your mark happily and with elegant pride."
He slipped a finger between her slit before he took his hands off her thighs and stepped back, picking up the crop he had laid on floor earlier.
L started to squeal and beg when she saw him with the crop. To her good fortune not a single word made any sense to Master C, as he brought the crop between her legs and trailed it down the inseam of each of her thighs.
She started to shudder as she saw him pull back the crop, her eyes were shut tight as he dealt the first of a long series of blows to her thighs.
She screamed behind the gag, it hurt to try and jump or scoot around on the rough slab of stone. Her body arched and bowed in every direction. When her thighs were thoroughly welted and throbbing he moved the crop to her breasts, striking them as relentlessly as he had her thighs. Her body was drenched in sweat as she pulled and jerked at the restraints.
Outrageous cries made way past the gag in her mouth while she struggled for each short breath she was able to take. Fire, hot and searing ebbed from her every pore as her head thrashed left and right until finally she broke and could take not one more lash from his crop. Every muscle went limp and she was out.

 

Hey! I see you liked the popcorn. Thank you all for being part of this weeks Dungeon Crawl. I invite you back next week for another exciting Dungeon excerpt. 
Please visit some of the other tasty and talented authors listed below.

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Meeting the Masters

Holy Crap! Here it is Tuesday evening and I realized I didn't have my RTK Dungencrawl piece ready. If I recall correctly, last week I mentioned giving you a peek into L's first punishment after arriving at 'The Inn' where she will undergo her slave training. But guess what? I changed my mind... because, well, I can!
Instead I thought I'd let you have a look at the Masters and Mistresses that L is introduced to upon her arrival. It kind of sets the feel for the snippet about her punishment, which I promise to deliver upon... next week! 
Unless of course I am abducted by aliens and taken to planet Zylon... again! I was gone for a month the last time that happened... but enough on that, let's get on with the excerpt!

L knelt meekly on the red and gold cushion, surrounded by six high backed finely polished wooden chairs. A large roll-top desk of darkened polished wood stood off to her right. To the left of that was a plush deep maroon colored lounging chair. The walls were papered in a golden floral pattern accentuated with white backing. Along the left wall there were four long windows, each with pale heavy backed drab yellow drapes, only partially opened. 

"L, I am Master C," the man said. "The others will be joining us shortly." 
Master C walked around L, his hands clasped behind his back observing her with scrutinizing eyes. L didn't know if she should make utterance or some sort of gesture that she understood Master C, so she remained quiet with her hands in her lap and her head bowed. 
Five others joined the room, each one entering single file and filling the chairs surrounding L, two more men and three women. The two other men were dressed almost the same as Master C, only the color of their tunic shirts differed. The women were dressed in long elegant Bavarian gowns which parted in the front just below the sternum, giving them an old fashioned but wispy look as they walked. The material was heavy and L could hear the dull rustle of the fabric as they walked and then seated themselves in the chairs. They seated themselves man and then woman, man and then woman until the chairs were filled. The women did not cross their legs as they sat down and the two women that L could see as she peeked up through her lashes, pulled open the skirts of their dresses just enough that their bare thighs could be seen. 

Master C introduced the other five members as Mistress C, to his right, Master K, to her right, Mistress K, Master M, and Mistress Y. "You will learn some of our actual names throughout your stay here, L, but you are never to address anyone other than by their given titles which I have just told you, do you understand this?" he asked, and L nodded that she had understood. 

"Very well then, shall we get on with it?" Master M asked and Mistress C answered with a curt nod.

"L, please stand up for us, we need to make some necessary observations, and please keep your hands calmly at your sides. If they need moved or lifted we will aid you in doing such." Mistress C had a deeper voice than L would have thought, as she stood up and stepped off the red and gold cushion. "Yahvoun, the tape measure please?" Mistress C requested. 
Mistress Y got up and went to the roll-top desk, bringing back a cloth tape measure. Mistress C then measured L's neck, the width of her shoulders from the back, her hips, the length of her legs and the girth of her thighs at their largest circumference, and finally her waist. 

"Size six for the waist" she said, looking at Yahvoun, who had now brought a small yellow tablet of paper back with her to her seat and began taking Mistress C's dictations. L could smell the faintest sent of summer breeze flowers on Mistress C's skin as she combed her hand smoothly over L's throat. "Size four at the neck" she went on in her deep resounding voice. She continued to caress her fingers from L's throat to her breasts, pinching her nipples modestly to see how quickly they became erect. 
"Piercings for these, silver, she is to pale for gold, size two." 
L didn't like the sound of that word -piercings. She felt a twinge of dread in her stomach at the thought of a needle being passed through her nipples. 
"Medium bar for thighs and ankles, cuff size three and one," Mistress C went on, and continued to touch and caress her naked body. She felt the rounded area of her buttocks, and measured the space between the largest parts of her thighs using her fingers as a gauge. She brushed the back of her fingers against L's soft, recently waxed lips before pulling her hand from under her thighs. L felt a chill run down her thighs as a result, but stayed as quiet and motionless as she could. Mistress C then took a seat and Master M got up and approached L. 

First he brushed back some of the hair surrounding her face and put his finger under her chin, lifting it. L didn't meet his eyes but rather stood like the specimen she felt she was and kept her eyes forward, looking past him. 
"Open your mouth please, L." he said in a gentle sounding voice. L opened her mouth and Master M inserted his index and middle finger. First he felt her back teeth and then pinched her cheeks with two fingers in her mouth and his thumb on the outside of her cheek. "Ball gag, size three," he said as he pushed his fingers into the back of L's throat until he procured a good gag out of her. Master M allowed L to regain her composure noting her watery eyes. He then used his moistened fingers and parted L's lower lips. Working them around the outside of her sex a few times, he inserted his index and middle finger up inside of her, inching them in and out a few times until he could work them up deeply inside of her. Yahvoun watched her face carefully while Master M was doing this. 

"Modest," was all Master M said as he withdrew his fingers and placed them back into L's mouth and told her to suck on them, which, without hesitation, she did. He gathered as much of her saliva as he could before telling her to hold open her mouth as he removed his fingers. 
A long line of saliva ebbed from L's bottom lip to his fingers as he pulled them away and told her she may close her mouth. L's cheeks flushed. She didn't know what to make of being examined like this. -Just keep quiet and still, she told herself. 
He walked around behind her and put his left hand in the middle of her back and told her to bend over and hold onto her ankles. L knew what was coming and she shuddered at the thought. –Oh please don't… L's face cringed. 
Once again Yahvoun positioned herself to take careful note of L's face as Master M worked his fingers into her back passage. 
"Too tight," he remarked in a crisp matter of fact tone. "Start with size one and move up one size at a time until we can fit a size four up there easily." He pulled his probing fingers from her, pulled her upright and excused himself from the room momentarily. 
L felt the scrutiny from every angle, even those behind her that she couldn't see. –This is really embarrassing. 
When Master M came back into the room he held a pair of iron wrist shackles held together by a chain. He attached them to L's wrists, allowing her hands to remain in front of her and locked them. 

Master C told Master and Mistress K that they could take her downstairs to the showers and give her a full and through cleaning and to lightly lubricate her back passage before showing her to cell nine. 
"She owes me forty-five minutes for not following her first order." 

She peeked over at him from the corner of her eye, noting but a trace of a smile on his lips as he turned to address her personally. "I think your punishment will be better received before dinner, L. I will be in to see you shortly after Master and Mistress K have finished with you." He grazed each of her nipples with his fingertips before taking hold of her irons and handing her over to Master and Mistress K.

I hope you enjoyed meeting a few of the masters and mistresses that L will be engaged with during her stay at 'The Inn' . If you enjoyed this excerpt, I encourage you to pass it along to your friends who might also enjoy taking a peek into the dungeon. I've even left you some little share buttons ↓ 
Don't forget to show the love by crawling over to some of the other insanely HOT blogs being hosted by RTK (Romancing the Kink) this week.

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A Look into Odyssey

Greetings Dungeon Crawlers, I'm excited and happy to see you back this week. I've decided to switch gears this week and give you a peek into 'The Story of L' based on a young woman's odyssey into the world of BDSM. The snippet comes from the first book of the trilogy called Odyssey and L has just made a weighty decision. She's agreed to join the Sacred Sacraments of Service and undergo slave training for the man she loves.
 
"You've passed your first test, and have embarked on the voyage of your training to pleasure me.  You have followed my command, which is to be the first of many that you will be expected to follow without hesitation.  You have obeyed without question and verified your desire to participate voluntarily into the induction of the Sacred Sacraments of Service, as my proffered pledge," he said calmly, as he admired the lovely full-length sparkling wedding gown she was secluded under.

"This night is to constitute your official declaration to embark on the journey of becoming my complete and utter slave, L. You have done me the greatest honor a man in my position could ever ask for. You have entrusted me from this day forward, to claim you as my own. To do with whatever I so wish, at any given time, and without the scarcity of a word or breath of refute." He stood up from the loveseat and walked mannerly over to L until he stood right before her. Being 6'4", he bent slightly as he offered her his open palm.

"Thank you, Sir," L said easily, accepting his hand.
 
"NO L, you will no longer call me Sir. Tonight, I become your Master as does every other man or woman in the society in which you have just so shortly ago agreed to become a part of. I am going to forgive you only this one time because it is a very special night. But need I remind you L; you no longer have a voice. There is no longer any need of your thanks or your gratitude in words. You are no longer my submissive companion. You are now my slave. Your thanks and gratitude will now be shown explicitly in actions alone. Please show that you understand this with a short nod of your head."
After hearing this, L simply nodded. 

Trey helped his symbolic bride to her feet and walked her over to the black suede loveseat where he then instructed her to sit down in the very middle of the plush cushioned fabric. 
L sat squarely without crossing her legs as Trey had taught her long ago she must not do while in his presence. She placed her hands in her lap and folded one over the top of the other and waited for what he would say or do next. 

He walked around behind the loveseat and bent over, taking first her left hand, pulling it to his dark Italian mouth, he kissed it softly before attaching her wrist to the black suede cuff attached somewhere behind the loveseat. 
A mild tremor crept up her left arm as he did the same with her right hand and after the cuffs were secure, he tightened them, making sure she could not move her hands or arms more than a couple of inches forward or back. 
Satisfied with her restraints, he then took the open champagne and poured the crystal glass full. He stood before her holding the glass and said. "Welcome to the S.S.S, L. Let us celebrate this once in a lifetime occasion and opportunity, a consummation of a Master to his slave." He then took a mouthful of the bittersweet bubbly, moved over the top of L, tilting her head back against the loveseat and offered her a sip directly from his mouth to hers. His olive toned, large Italian hand, pressed into the top of her shoulder as he leaned over her. 
The tiny pearl sequins near her collarbone making their presence known as he pressed his thumbs into them. She stared up into his pale blue, well-spaced eyes, as she opened her mouth to receive his offering. The cool sparkling liquid streamed into her mouth at the rate of a trickle, oozing slowly down the back of her throat. 
When his mouth was empty he kissed her savagely, filling her mouth with his tongue, pulling a soft little moan from her as his reward. 
He pulled abruptly from the kiss but kept his face close to hers. In a soft and mild mannered voice, he told her this would be the last night they were going to spend together for the next two weeks. He gave her another swallow of the cool liquid before setting the glass back down on the table and knelt down between her legs on the gray Berber carpet. 
He reached up under her long billowing gown and pulled down the petticoat from her hips, instructing her to lift them as he slid the heavily tooled material over her curves, down over her knees and to her ankles and then completely off. After pulling out and discarding the petticoat, he moved his hands back to the middle of her thighs and opened them as wide as the gown would allow and then took her left foot to the edge of the loveseat and secured it with another suede cuff, doing the same thereafter to her right. 
When he was finished he stood up and took the crystal flute into his hand and drank the remaining champagne while his eyes combed over the contained mounds of her bare breasts pressing so tightly to the thick fabric of the dress. 

"Oh dear," he said with a devilish grin. "I've completely forgotten to remove this beautifully tailored gown from your body before immobilizing you." He reached into the front pocket of his well pressed, smooth black pants and pulled out a pocketknife. 
L's eyes got a little wider as she watched him open it, the light behind them glinting off the sleek silver blade. 

"I suggest you hold very still L, it's very sharp and I wouldn't want to slip and nick your beautiful soft, white skin." His voice was getting deeper and huskier. 
L knew this tone in his voice and she knew what it meant. He walked around behind her and pulled all of her soft elegant auburn hair from her back and splayed it against the suede backing of the loveseat while pulling it firmly, causing her to lean her head back once again. 
"Now hold still, L," he said sternly, bringing the tip of the blade to the first tightly cinched button beneath her chin and sliced it. 

She gasped, thinking it a pity to ruin the beautiful old timeless treasure that currently adorned and concealed her naked body. He continued to slice through each button one at a time, carefully with one hand while the other pressed harshly into her breast. Her breath hitched and she held it still when she felt him dip the knife against the material right at the hollow of her neck in order to get under the lace securing the satin button. 

"Good girl," he said softly, bending down to kiss her more delicately than he had the first time, leaving her lips in want of more.
L now realized why he had instructed that this dress fit her so tightly. He wanted the buttons to pop easily when he cut the dress from her tethered body. 

He cut through three more buttons, opening the front of the dress just enough that he could see the swell of pasty white flesh that was, her cleavage. 
"There are my gorgeous little beauties," he whispered and pulled the knife away setting it on the table next to the champagne. 
He slipped his right hand into the now open necked dress and gripped her breast, pulling up on it and squeezing it before passing his thumb over the soft nub of her nipple. His left hand also wedged its way into the open flap of material and then suddenly he gripped both sides and rent the front of the dress all the way to her abdomen. 

She let out a stark little cry of surprise as buttons and pearly sequins flew in all directions. He chuckled softly and then adjusted a bar along the back of the loveseat that allowed the backrest to recline. He let it fold all the way down, thus, turning the loveseat into something like a makeshift bed. His eyes lusted to take her as he folded her head and torso back towards him, until the backrest clicked into place.  

Her breasts, plump and most pleasing to his eyes now rose and fell as they peeked out at him from the rent material. He knelt at her head and bent over her body not being able to stop from biting and sucking at her newly exposed, dark pink nipples. Holding her gloved hands in his, reached his face down further, licking at her smooth, soft belly, swirling his tongue into her belly button causing her to writhe and squirm. 
His growing need pried into her cheek as he pressed his body down on hers, trying to still her. Most of her chest and torso were available to his eyes thus far. Trey often liked to un-wrap her slowly. –It's like a present every time, he had once told her. But really, he very much liked not undressing anymore of her than he intended to use at one time. He enjoyed torturing her more often than not, half clad body.

Trey reached over to the table and took the champagne out of the bucket. Filling his mouth with a good sized swallow of it, he drizzled some of it into her mouth, then some in between her breasts, then the last bit of it down her belly and let it pool in her belly button. 
He pulled the fabric near her left breast aside and placed the ice chilled and still wet bottom of the bottle onto her breast. Her body jolted from the shock and a curt moan erupted from her lips. 
"Shhh, be still L, you'll make a mess," he said and removed the bottle, watching as her nipple hardened to a stiff little peek, which he then saw fit to bite with some severity before enclosing his lips around it and sucking it back to warmth. 

A shrill little cry erupted out of her as he also did the same to her other breast before licking the pooled remains of champagne from her torso. The light musky smell of her arousal caught in his throat as he sucked the wetness from her belly button. He took hold of the remaining intact portion of material that still covered her thighs and forcefully ripped it open, until the heavy material was completely rent down the front. He smoothed it out flat to each side, covering nearly the entire black suede cushion she was fastened too. 
She was now fully exposed to him with the exception of the sleeves that still covered her arms.


It's terrible to leave L here like this, nearly naked and restrained isn't it?
Come back next week when L is dropped off at 'The Inn' and  meets Master C and his Room of Requirements.

Thanks for stopping by today, and please don't forget to crawl around to some of this weeks other featured authors as you enjoy your day. 

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#DungeonCrawal Into the Barnyard.

Welcome Back Dungeon Lovers... This week I'm going to continue with Wonderlust and present you with the Barnyard scene. If female dominance or male milking turns you off, you might want to click out of here now. 

 I'm probably the author your mother warned you about.    

                     For the rest of you adorable little lovelies... please have a seat and enjoy the show.


Soon the two men were carting off the partition and the whole backdrop of the stagehand been changed to look a country barnyard. In the middle of the stage was a bale of hay and a small stool like the one back in the basement of Jim’s garage. 
A young man was being brought up onto the stage by way of a slightly older woman decked out in tight black leather and very high heels. Her breasts were cinched up into a black half-cup corset so that her nipples were protruding just over the top of it.  He was on his hands and knees and naked. Around his neck he wore a black collar with a big silver ring. Attached to that was a leash that the woman held onto as she led him to center stage.

“Kneel up for your audience, my little cow,” she boasted loudly so all could hear. 

The man lifted his hands and placed them behind his neck, his head remained bowed as he looked at the floor. There was no hair on his chest and it glistened as if he had been rubbed down with oil. He spread his knees apart and there was some kind of plastic cage device on his cock with a gold colored lock like the one on the collar I had worn. 
His genitals had also been shaved and oiled. 

“My little cow here has not been milked all week. I imagine he has a lot of milk stored up,” the woman said as she pulled a ridding crop from behind her and put it under his chin, forcing him to raise his head and address his audience. His face was a bit red and I could tell he was not very comfortable being put on display like this. 

“Are you ready to be milked, my little cow?” she daunted. 
“Yes, Mistress” he looked at her as he spoke. 
“Good boy.” She patted his ass cheeks with her crop, and led him over to the bale of hay behind them, instructing him to sit on the bale. 
His back was facing the audience while she stood in front of him using her heels to slide his feet into the positions she wanted them in. His hands were resting on the bale at his sides. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned down so that her breasts were right in front of his face. She told him to get his key and he buried his face into her half covered bubbly mounds and pulled a key from her cleavage. 
She turned his head so that the audience could see the key and then she took it from his lips and knelt down between his thighs and removed the plastic cock cage. 

“Thank you, Mistress,” his voice sounded meek. 
She instructed him to lie back across the bale and to place his hands on the floor outstretched on each side of his head, forcing him to view his audience from an upside-down position. while she stood and walked around him, tapping the crop dauntingly into her palm as if trying to decide where to slap him with it first. 
She placed the crop tip onto his chest and started to caress his chest with it. You could see the man’s chest rise and fall as he took deeper breaths. She moved the leather tip of the crop all up and down his exposed chest and then moved it to tops of his legs and inner thighs. 
His cock started to swell as she trailed the crop over his balls. He let out a soft groan and she pulled the crop back and then slapped him with it modestly right on the shaft of his cock. His chest jerked and his face showed a slight wince. 
I was sure that this wasn’t his first time receiving such treatment. He kept his eyes shut while she taunted him with her crop. She told him he was too pale and needed some color while she proceeded to slap his chest, his legs, and the exposed underside of his arms.  Occasionally she would reprimand him for moving his hands or his feet with a harder slap to a more sensitive area.  
His whimpers could barely be heard in the back of the room, but it was clearly audible when he would say, “Thank you, Mistress.” 
His cock was rock hard even after a couple of good swats to his balls. The anguish showed on his face as he yelped, and twitched. 
She tapped her crop on the head of his cock. “Good boy.” 
After making sure he had enough color the Mistress ordered that he hold his feet up as well as his hands, and to hold himself still. 
After doing as instructed she took his hands and turned his body, along with the bale, so that the audience now had a side view of what was going on. I watched his stomach rise and fall while she went to that little table at the back of the stage. She came back with two pairs of leather cuffs. She placed his hands and feet back into the positions she wanted them, cuffing them to the floor so that he was arched over the bale.  Surprisingly his cock was still  hard, and the side view was really nice. 

“Are you ready to be milked, my little cow?” 
“Yes, Mistress,” he begged. 

The Mistress walked over to the table at the corner of the stage again and put on a single tight black latex glove. She let is snap as she pulled it down tight to her wrist, I don’t know why, but I flinched. She walked slow and dauntingly back over to her little cow and started touching some of his more sensitive little red welts. She was saying something to him softly but it was too faint to hear in the back of the room. She positioned the stool with her foot so that she could sit between the man’s legs. 

She pulled a small little packet of what I presumed to be a lubricant from the pocket of her tight leather pants and lubed up her index and middle finger on her right hand. With her left she fondled and played with his balls telling the audience how full and heavy they felt. His cock lurched and he moaned softly as she inserted her lubed fingers into his asshole. He groaned loudly and his body flexed, his legs trembling.

She started working her fingers in and out of him slowly at first. His body writhed and squirmed against his restraints. His hips began to move with the movements of her fingers. She began pumping her fingers into him harder and faster, his moans and groans getting louder and more frequent. The muscles in his arms were tight and rigid. His legs flexed and pulled against the cuffs attached to his ankles. Climax claimed him and his cock quivered and jerked as it erupted like a fountain shooting milky white come onto his chest as far up as his neck several times while his body bucked and lurched. I was amazed by how much he had released. 

“I think you have more, don’t you, my little cow?” 
“Yes Mistress, thank you, Mistress,” he stammered, his voice quivering. 

The Mistress kept her fingers inside of him while she took hold of his still rigid and stiff cock and started to stroke it. The man was whimpering, groaning and squirming. She used his wetness, teasing the bulbous head of his cock terribly while a vivacious smile spread across her lips. 
“Give me more, little cow… now!” She held his shaft tightly in her hand and pulled it back a little so that the audience got a good horizontal view.   

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned. His cock erupted again, this time she held onto it and pulled the skin taut as he released almost as much as the first time. His back was arched up off the bale and his body was stiff and rigid as his milky white come shot high up into the air. 
I could only imagine what that looked like for those sitting in the chairs up in front. 
The man thanked his Mistress again and she told him he did very well. And again the two men brought out the partition to block of the stage while they rearranged and set up for the next performers. 

“Quite the young stud, wasn’t he Misty?” 
“Yes Sir, quite a performance.” 
“You know, I felt your body tense up both times when he came.” 
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I said, blushing again. 
I wondered if I should tell him I heard his heart beat pick up the pace a couple times during that performance as well, as I readjusted myself a little, pulling my head from his shoulder. 

“I think we should head back up to the room, the last performance might be a little… strong for you at this point,” he explained, pulling his arm from my shoulder. 

I straightened out my top, looking into his eyes the best I could in the darkness. Even in the dark he couldn’t hide the vibrant blue of his eyes. I knew going upstairs would mean I had to render him a decision as to whether I would agree to stay with him. I almost didn’t want to go just to avoid having to decide. 
“I’ll take your word for that, Sir,” I said as we stood up to leave.


Thank you for visiting my barnyard today, I hope you enjoyed the show. Please be sure to crawl on over to some of the other wonderful authors who continue to make the DungeonCrawl such a delightful part of your Wednesday.

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My Writing Process- Blog Tour

I'd like to thank Jolynn Raymond for mentioning and tagging me in her writing process blog post. I found that she and I share some common threads when it comes to the process of writing. I've also learned that we share a love for the darker side of imagination. Such as in her book 'Elizabeth's Destiny' a Kinky Historical Romance.

Now, let's talk about the process of how that blank page (paper or digital) goes from empty to full, page after page after page, until we have what we call a workable Manuscript/Story. I was given 4 questions to focus on while answering what the writing process is like for me.

1. What am I working on? 
I'm working on a few things actually. From a story standpoint I am currently working on a collection of paranormal stories I plan on calling (The Dare series). The first book, -pending publication- is about a young woman in her  mid-twenties who like many of us, has an other than admirable past. (How typical, right?) Well, yes and no. 
When Cassandra Dare meets Gregorie Darnsworth her typical and other than admirable life changes. Because the setting takes place in modern day Cassy can do little more than laugh when Gregorie makes his confession to being a Vampire. We all know vampires are little more than legendary myths and misconceptions, right?

I got to thinking though, especially in this modern age that we all currently live in. What if all those myths and legends DO have a ring of truth behind them after-all? How could I, as a writer, convey to others that what they passively dismiss as fantasy, urban legend, and myth, could in fact be closer to reality than we might think? 
The first book in this series touches on a specifically marked year in history and gives a somewhat logical explanation as to why vampires might really exist. Not having met under the best circumstances, Gregorie and Cassandra are off to a bittersweet beginning. The moment he lays eyes on her and smells the blood of her wounds he knows she is a descendant of his late wife. Having all but given up on finding any happiness in his life for nearly the last 100 years, Gregorie is inspired by the sight of this young woman and feels compelled to make her his. 
Cassy on the other hand wants nothing to do with the strange but handsome dark haired man who had drugged her and held her captive under sedation for 4 days, that is, until she learns he's a real vampire. 
In the second book, my theory on why vampires might really exist is further elaborated on through the story of a couple that was briefly introduced in the first book, which is the story I'm currently developing, in my spare time, when I'm not tweeting, engrossed in facebook or other social media platforms.

2. How does your work differ from others of it's genre? 
 That's a tough question for me because I consider myself a relatively new writer. Not new to the love of writing, but new to the world of being a published author. 
I think that one of the main attributes that sets all writers apart whether they publish in the same genre or not is their style. The unique voice inside their head that tells them which words to use when conveying their story. No two people ever see something in exactly the same way, and this is what I feel is unique and sets me apart from others. 
Maddie Taylor and I embarked as budding new authors at nearly the same time and have helped each other learn along the way, and although we write in the same genres our work could not be more different. Maddie is a feisty, fun loving, and upbeat person. I find that the characters in her books portray a reflection to the zest and zeal I see in her as a friend. I love her books. She always offers a spicy plot with hot, hunky, heroes and feisty, smart witted heroines who always find a way to make me laugh.

I tend to focus more on the darker side of things. I like to explore a single thought, idea or myth and then bring it to life through my characters and see where they take me. Most of the time that ends up being some dark passage through my mind that opens up into a world of bittersweet possibilities. 
For example in my first book, 'Seduction: The Story of M', we start out with the heroine being abducted and throughout the story we see how Misty's first impressions of this man change from day to day. In the end he's not as much the bad guy she thought he was.
The Story of L opens up with a woman making the decision to give up all her independent rights and undergo a special form of slave training in order to please the man she thinks she loves. The full story fans out over the course of 3 books and explains what L learns about herself during her journey to better understand her submissive nature. 
So really I think that was makes my work different... is me! which brings us to the next question. 

3. Why do I write what I do?
Because one of my favorite things to do is subtly pry into the minds of others. Most people get really annoyed when I start peeling back the layers of their psyche with my probing, and sometimes disturbing questions, so I turn to making up characters and stories that allow me to do so without upsetting anyone. 
I like to write about what I find intriguing and fascinating... dark secrets, inhibitions, dominance and submission and almost anything have to do with BDSM. 
I keep hearing the phrase..."Write what you know." 
I guess I have a bit of an issue with that because it's a lot more fun to write about what I don't know. It engages my imagination to fill in the blanks and tell a unique story from an unproven source of reality. For me it's more fun and freeing to experience something through a character than to commit myself to the physical aspect of such an experience. Which is also probably the reason I enjoy writing my stories from a darker point of view. 

4. How does your writing process work?
It's a delicate recipe consisting of coffee and whatever life throws my way for the day. I'd like to have a schedule and set hours of when no one is allowed to interrupt me, but so far that hasn't happened. I have this really cool looking 'Do Not Disturb' sign for my writing room door. It blinks in 3 different colors and has an audio alarm that goes off if anyone touches the door. My dogs love it. They purposely scratch at the door to trigger the alarm and then bark at it until it stops only to repeat the sequence over and over until I pull the battery out. 

I need to be alone when I write. It's like my imagination demands the whole room, shrouding it under an invisible force of security so that the little thing we writers call our 'muse', feels free to come out and play. Only mine doesn't really come out to play. I would describe it more like being temporarily possessed one character at a time.

Many writers like to use outlines, but I'm not one of them. I'm a panster and enjoy getting the story as the characters develop and show me who they are. I never know how a story is going to end until I finally get there and it all comes together. Sometimes I get a little worried when I get to that part where I think I should be finding my conclusion, but can't. I've learned that when that happens it's best just to leave the grumpy muse alone for a few days and come back when she or he is done being pissy at me.
I like early mornings when the house is quite and the birds are just starting to stir for the day. 
Once the phone starts ringing and the day comes to life with all it's perfect imperfections and tedious little demands my muse gives me a hug and says 'see ya later'. 
In between the demands of the day, I try to squeeze in some social networking and blogging, which has lead me to some very useful tips and full array of other deliciously talented authors, which is why I enjoy these blog hops.

This hop doesn't have a linky list, it's simply meant to be passed on by way of mentioning other authors who you admire and would like to learn more about, which is why... 

I'm tagging Maddie Taylor. Her stories will rock your socks off. Don't believe me, go to her page and pick one. You won't be disappointed. One of my Favorites is Marshals Law. The heroine gets into a strange and unfortunate accident and when she wakes she realizes she's no longer in the same time period as she was when her car veered off the road. Learning about how she handles being stuck back in time is sweet, funny, sexy, and endearing in only a way Maddie herself can describe.

I'd also like to mention Trent Evans I'm not tagging Trent, just mentioning this unique author because I've been following his excerpts on other blog hops and his talent for use of interesting words and story telling is amazing. I've just finished reading  'A Lady and A Maid' and I am blown away by how captivating this story is and how the author wraps you into the plot like a warm blanket while your reading.

And with that, I'd like to thank you for visiting my blog and wish you a wonderful week full of scary spiders and things that go bump in the night... errr... What I meant  was, I hope you have an exceptionally happy day as a result of viewing this blog. 

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#Dungeon Crawl- Welcome to Wonderlust

Happy Hump day Dungeon Crawlers, it's good to see you back this week. Spring is finally in the air and I have a special snippet from The Story of M called Wonderlust. Remember last week's Forth Floor? Well, this week were going to find out a little bit about the show Robert takes Misty to see on the last day of the BDSM convention in the hotel. Grab your popcorn or coffee and get comfy while Robert leads Misty into the dimly lit Oval banquet hall.

It was almost 7:30 when we walked into the oval banquet hall. The lights were dim in the audience. Nicely padded folding chairs were set more to the front of the room, while plush armchairs and loveseats skirted the edges and far back of the room. He held my arm in his while we approached a loveseat in the far back of the room. 
It had a sign on it, 'reserved for # 618.'
“You reserved a seat?” I whispered. 

“Of course, I always make a donation to the last day exhibitions.” 

As we took our seat I set my eyes to what was going on in the front of the room. A small stage was set to represent a dungeon. A young blond haired woman was on display, bound hand and foot between two large wooden posts. (I know the girl below is not blonde..sorry, these pics are just so hard to find)

She wore a dainty little rag of a covering from mid hip to just below her pussy lips. Her chest was bare with the exception of the corded rope tied in crisscross attire over and under her breasts, accentuating and exemplifying them. It was wound tight several times just under her breasts and also tied to the post on each side of her. I got the impression she was to represent having been captured. She had a piece of cloth that matched her ragged little skirt tied as a gag around her mouth. She looked quite pitiful and helpless. 

“It looks like we just caught the beginning of this one.” He whispered and put his arm around me pulling me back a bit as if suggesting I sit back and relax. I leaned into him a little bit making myself comfortable.
A husky dark haired man walked up onto the stage. He wore black jeans, no shirt over his hairy chest and carried a coiled whip in his hand. He walked over to a small table offset behind the young woman and picked up what looked like a slate. 
He read aloud. “Here for punishments, level two.” 
Then he set down the slate and walked towards the woman. He cracked the whip into the air behind her and you could hear it slicing through the air, as woman’s body tensed. The next one made contact with her backside although it was hard to tell where. 
She lurched and bucked at the restraints as the audible crack made its way to the back of the room. 
He walked towards her and grabbed her hair, pulling it back so he could look at her face while he stepped up close behind her. She shrieked as her head got yanked back. 
“You’re a new little slave aren’t you?” His voice boomed so all could hear. 
 She tried to nod her head and garbled something as he peered down on her face. 
“Damn, then I must keep too level two punishments,” he complained, flinging her head forward. He gave a pouty look to the audience.
Some in the audience laughed, while he returned to the little table. When he returned at her side, he showed the audience a pair of nipple clamps with small weights hanging from them. 
Turning his attention to the slave girl, he attached each one to her nipples, trying to stand in a way the audience could see as he put them on. Her face looked strained while she tried to hold still, accepting the bite of his clamps. I felt a twinge in my own nipples wondering how much that hurt. It looked like she was biting down hard on the gag. 

He pulled the whip from his back pocket and coiled it up in his hand and then trailed it up her inner thigh. Lifting her ragged cloth with the handle, he showed the audience her shaved pussy and then dropped the cloth. 
He pawed at one of her breasts, squeezing and shaking it so that weight would move. It was faint but I could hear her whimpers. He moved the coils of the whip between her thighs and rubbed up and down them, while he licked the hardened nubs of her nipples. 
His hand disappeared up under her little cloth and she groaned wriggling her hips, as he dropped the coils of the whip to the floor before backing away from her.

She pulled her head forward her eyes following him.

He gathered up a portion of his whip and then lashed out at her with it, striking her inner thigh. Her body jolted while she let out a very clear yelp. He returned it with a crisp sounding crack under her belly button. 
“Dance for me, little slave,” he commanded striking again her inner thigh. 

Her body commenced to the command of the whip, jerking and pulling at her restraints. He moved around her body lashing her several more times, at least three across her breasts and more on her backside. Her body started to quiver while she groaned and tried to beg him behind that gag. 
Her pleas were unheard until he was satisfied with his handy work. He pocketed the handle of his whip and moved in close to her body again, inspecting the pink marks of his whip, tracing some of them on her inner thigh with his fingers. 
He inspected her modestly and licked the marks along her breasts. 
It sounded like she was thanking him, the gag was wet and spittle had accumulating near the corners of her mouth. 
He moved around behind her, making the same inspections. Then he removed her rag cloth from her hips. He stood behind her as he reached to her pussy lips and pulled them open, exposing her wetness to the audience.  
Using two fingers he pushed them far up inside her. It made me think of what happened to me in the hallway last night as she let her head fall back against him and groaned. 
While he was working her pussy he pulled his whip out again and started to rub the smooth handle of it over her clit rapidly. 
Her hips were bucking and thrashing and you could see her pulling at the restraints while she whimpered and moaned. It wasn’t long until she was near orgasm. Her head was shaking back and forth and the weights on her nipples were swaying to and fro. 
He feathered her clit faster with the handle as he pulled his fingers from her ripe juicy cunt, spreading the wetness up her stomach. He reached over to one of the weights and removed it. 
She screamed loudly and her body shook immensely. He removed the other one and her whole body looked like it was vibrating while she let out a long shaky scream. 
He let the weights drop to the floor with a thud and then rolled and pinched each of her nipples, while she thrashed against the bonds. He brought both hands to her sex, holding her open and exposed while he delved his fingers back inside of her and pumped them, while ravaging her swollen bud with his thumb.
Within moments she was lost, deep in orgasm. Her head was thrashing against his shoulder and every part of her body was lost in wave after wave of blissful torment. Her hips thrashed and bucked into his hands, her voice shrill as she gasped and whimpered. 
He pushed his fingers back up inside of her and started pumping them fast. Her eyes were shut tight while she bit down on the cloth gag, and her face looked anguished. Soon it was inevitable and the spray of female ejaculate covered his fingers and hand while she squealed. 
It dripped down her inner thighs leaving a good-sized puddle on the stage floor. 
When he finally pulled both his hands from her body, her head fell forward and her blond hair shrouded her face. 
The audience started to clap. The husky man pulled her ragged cloth from his front pocket and wiped off his hands, bowing to the applauding audience. Then he walked over to his little slave girl, lifted her face and gave her a quick little kiss. He was whispering something to her while two other men came out carrying a partition and blocked the view to the stage while the young woman was obviously removed from her bonds. 

“Did you enjoy that Misty?” 

“It rather reminded me of something that occurred last night between us, Sir.” I whispered, a smile touching my lips. 

“I know that, but did you enjoy seeing it happen to someone else?” He pulled me up closer to him, tucking his hand under my arm and wrapping his fingers around my left breast as he cinched my upper body tightly against his.

“Yes, Sir,” I had to admit. 

“Did it arouse you Misty?” 

“Yes, Sir,” I answered a second time. 
The heat of a blush crossed my face as he moved his  hand, slipping it  under my skirt. “Please, Sir—” 
He hushed me and told me trust him. I looked around the audience as his fingers crept into my crotch. All I could really see were the silhouettes of the men and woman in the audience. He parted my lips and I blushed all the more when he found my pussy wet with arousal. 

“Oh my, I think you enjoyed that very much.” He chuckled softly. “I bet if I just circled your little clit a few times you might be ready to come too.” He slowly removed his hand. 
I turned my face into his chest with embarrassment and laid my arm across his abdomen like I was hugging him. 
Soon the two men were carting off the partition and the whole backdrop of the stage had been changed to look a country barnyard.

I hope you've enjoyed the first scene of Wonderlust. If you're curious about scene two and what happens in the barnyard drop me an "I want more" in the comment section below... but I must warn you, the next act is not for the faint of heart. You know what often happens in barnyards don't you? Something or someone is bound to get milked. 
Before you put to much thought into that, please take a look at the other talented authors participating in this weeks Crawl.
 

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