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Aithne’s story part 5 – Receding



Her first time on a Navy Sloop of War had been a revelation. The tight rigging, the prow as sharp as a knife, everything in exactly the right place. Every inch of space was built with purpose – not a hair’s width was underutilized. It was, as far as she was concerned, the peak of specieal knowhow. It moved through the water like it was…


“You’re doing it again.” A sharp crack and her right breast burst into flame. She cried out as the cave rushed back into focus, along with the ten-inch cock that still rammed painful thrusts into her ass even as HE slapped her breast again. “You will stay here. You will feel everything.” She felt HIS fingers wrap themselves in her hair and had only a moment to brace herself and HE yanked her head up and back. “Do you understand?”


“Yes, Master! This slave is sorry, Master!”


HE shoved her head downward and it rebounded off of the floor of the cave, sending a spark of light bursts through her vision, then wrapped HIS hands in her hair again and ground her temple into the ground as HE roared and paused and tightened. She felt hot spunk splash into her colon. HE held her there, pinned beneath hand and cock, for several long seconds, then dragged HIS wearying length out of her. She collapsed to the ground.




She paused a moment as the cool stone touched her body like a soothing benediction. That precious moment was too long – just as she began to push herself back up, HIS hands were already on her, yanking her forcefully off the ground. She squealed and struggled as one of HIS hands wrapped around her neck, HIS fingers long enough to encircle it completely. The second hand grabbed her thigh. HE banged her against the stone wall.




With another roar, HE lifted her up and flung her to the floor, though HE kept HIS hand around her neck with her head lifted just enough that it didn’t split open on the stone. Her back bore the brunt of the blow, and she spent several panicked moments just trying to get a breath.


HE shoved HIS face into hers.


“What are you?”


“S…slave.” It was the only word she could eke out from her cramped lungs.


“What were you before?”


She shook her head as her lungs began to loosen. “N…nothing. This…this slave has always been a slave and…” a pained breath “…always will be a slave.”


“That is right. Now attention.”


HE released her and stood, and she scrambled as quickly as her bruised body could manage to her knees, then lifted her head and chest up until her back was straight, her breasts pushed forward. She laced her hands behind her head, elbows up and back so her upper arms formed a straight line with her head in the middle.


“Better.” HE reached down and touched her left nipple. She just managed to keep herself from the shudder that wanted to run the course of her body. “You are progressing nicely. You don’t always have to feel pain. Obey and there was be less pain. Fail to obey, even for a moment…more pain. It is as simple as that.”


She stayed stock still.


“Good. You did not speak. It has taken you a long time, but you can learn, it seems.” HE caressed the nipple with a gentleness that belied HIS…well, everything until it hardened to a point. It took every ounce of her strength not to pull away.


“We still have a ways to go, though. You still have some bad habits we must break. But you deserve a reward tonight for your obedience. Rest.”


She shifted, lowering her ass to her legs, relaxing her back so that it bowed a little forward, letting her arms fall to her thighs, where she rested them, palms up.


HE moved to the fire and rummaged for a bit, then returned with a wooden bowl filled with a savory stew. “Eat, then sleep. We begin again tomorrow.”


She bowed her head to the ground, then took the bowl and sipped from it as HE walked away again. The hot liquid slid down her throat and pooled in her stomach in a way that felt oddly comforting, as if it was saying, “Here. Not all is bad in this world.” She finished the stew, set the bowl aside, curled into a ball, and fell dead asleep.


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Good pacing and direction as usual. Noticed the emphasis on Borkul's pronouns (HE/HIS), more brutal than just capitalizing the first letter, though a bit more disturbing the flow of the read. 🙂


as if it was saying, “Here. Not all is bad in this world.”

Malicia : : « Her world still looks very bad if you ask me, uh.


                 That's why I'm very glad I'm not a dragonborn or something, 'cause that way, I won't have to meet bad people like Borkul, you see ? :classic_angel: »

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