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After his accidental expulsion and spanking in the Queen’s chambers, David was sent to the slave’s quarters for the night. It wasn’t much other than rows of bunks in a long room. But these beds had chains and manacles hanging from the headboard and foot posts, in which he was cuffed in by his two guard escorts and left. With nothing left to do, David tried to get some sleep.
He was awoken at dawn by two new guards. They released him from his chains, only to bind his arms with rope and stuff another harnessed ball gag into his tired mouth before marching him off.
Instead of returning him to the Queen, he was brought to a new chamber. Everything was tiled; the floors, the wall, and the ceiling. Water ran in small channels all around, sometimes falling like waterfalls along certain areas. Slaves, mostly women with a spattering of men bathed in the water.
A pair of slave girls took hold of him firmly, yet gently. They lacked the rough pulling of the guards, but at the same time made it clear that they were in control. David prepared for a shock from the torrent of water they dragged him under, but it was warm, as warm as the desert air that snaked through the palace halls. Each woman took a handful of soap and began to scrub him from head to toe. When they finished, they dunked him under falling water, cleansing his body of soap.
At first, David thought they were finished, but then one squatted down with more soap, then began to scrub his groin until it was fully lathered. He grunted in surprise when she procured a small blade and pressed it into the lather, thinking the worst was going to happen. He had heard all about eunuchs…but his fear was misplaced. The slave girl merely began to shave away his pubic hair, working briskly until his entire region was bare.
Shaved and cleaned, he was dried with a set of fluffy towels, then once again turned over to the guards who were impatiently waiting at the entrance to the bath. After a while, David recognized the path they were leading him along, and his heart sank: they were headed to the dungeon. Sure enough, the big wooden doors were soon before them, as were the screams and moans beyond it. They descended to the first level, then the second, but went no further, instead, entire entering a cell halfway through.
Waiting for them was once again the rope mistress.
“Good to see you again, slave,” she crowed expectantly as the guards hauled him in. “You’re going to have so much fun, for today marks the beginning of your training.”
In the center of the small cell was a peculiar wooden object. It was a simple square beam, mounted on the floor. A few inches from the bottom of it was a tiny platform, but that was it aside from a small lip on top of it, making a small ledge.
“Move him to it, hurry!” the rope mistress snapped. “Hold him in place.”
The guards hustled him to the post, then grunted for him to stand on the platform. David complied. He found that it was very small, just barely big enough to hold both of his feet. The two females held him securely by the arms while the rope mistress uncoiled a role of brown rope from a small stack. She squatted down, then began to coil it around his ankles, first biding them tightly together, then threading the rest of the rope around the pole, securing it firmly. Another bundle of rope tied around his knees in the same way as his ankles, then around the muscles of his thighs. On the tiny platform, David felt like teetering, that he would fall to the side, but the rope mistress’s bindings held him fast.
The Asian mistress tugged at the knots, checking her impeccable work. “The Queen said you were to be hers, did she not? Unfortunately, after your lapse of self control in her presence, she is beginning to think otherwise. You will undergo the training of a normal slave, until she deems you worthy once more…”
The guards and the rope mistress left, leaving the door ajar. David grunted as he tried to find a comfortable way to stand. It wasn’t happening. The edges of the post ground into the front of his legs, and it stopped at about the middle of his thighs, so he could still bend forward. The minutes ticked by. A line of drool trickled from his lower lip from beneath the gag.
The door opened again, and two figures entered. The first was one of the Queen’s slave girls, a girl with middle length blond hair and blue eyes obediently cast to the floor. She was naked, of course, and carrying a sort of saucer, several bottles inside, and a towel draped over her arm. The figure behind her was another mistress, wearing the high black thong and sandals. She was a native Egyptian, with dark skin, dark hair, and even darker eyes. Her entire body was toned, chiseled with subtle muscles. David’s heart beat faster when he saw her carrying a many tailed whip in each hand.
The slave girl gave that peculiar curtsey to David. “Greetings. I am one of the Queen’s hand maidens.”
She set the bowl down on the floor, removing the bottles and the towel. The mistress moved behind David, out of his field of view. All he could hear were her soft footsteps pacing back and forth. It made him very nervous.
David would have liked to ask what was going on, but his gag prevented it. The large rubber ball seemed to serve a dual purpose. One was to silence any cries or begging that might offend the Queen, the other to prevent questions. Everything would move right along, and with being bound, he was powerless to do anything to stop it.
The hand maiden placed the saucer on the lip on top of the post that his legs were bound to. Inside of it were peculiar markings at different intervals, though David didn’t recognize them. She took a bottle turned it, a thick, honey-smelling substance spilling into her cupped hand. She rubbed them together, spreading the oil evenly about her palms, then took hold of his cock and began to gently massage it.
David moaned at her gentle caresses. All it took were three kneads, and his cock was a rock stick in her hands. Her hands traveled lower, coating his balls in the sweet smelling substance, then returned to his cock and began to stroke.
“Relax, slave, and let the oil do its work…That’s right…”
What sort of place was this that men were masturbated constantly? David closed his eyes, wondering why the beautiful girl was pleasuring him so. The oil seemed to warm his skin, making it tingle with sensation. Up and down the girl’s hands went, gliding effortlessly along his shaft. Glorious as it felt, it still did not match the skilled hands of Cleopatra herself.
The handjob continued, and before long, David felt the sensation. But he was gagged, so how was he supposed to ask permission to come as per the Queen’s absolute order? He didn’t want to make the same mistake again. The ball gag once again prohibited any coherent speech. David thought he had to try anyway, and he was already past the point of no return. It was going to happen, the least he could do was warn her.
“Mnn ‘ong ‘oo mmm! Mnn ‘ong ‘oo mmm!”
The slave girl seemed to understand and turned her strokes to a blur, trying to pump his cock dry. David bucked his hips as best he could and emptied his balls. The wooden device he was bound to creaked as he thrashed. He relished the orgasm as the slave girl’s oily hands squeezed tightly, milking every last drop from his shaft out of his head.
The saucer below his cock sat partially full of his semen. The last drop that fell from the head of his cock was just enough to pass the first marking in the bottom of it.
“You have yet to produce enough seed for the Queen,” the hand maiden said softly. “Her breasts are large, and deserve to be bathed properly.” David could only try to understand what she was getting to as she rose to her feet, lifting the bowl with her. “Until you satisfy four marks, you shall be punished.”
Punished? David’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. It was the Queen’s game all over again, though this time it was different. The markings in the saucer had to represent the dimensions of her breasts. To replicate what he saw the slave do over her breasts, he would need to fill the saucer at least half! The fourth marking of the bowl nearly reached the rim.
“The Queen made it very clear that you are to produce the most semen of all her slaves, if you are to be hers alone.”
The hand maiden removed the bowl from the lip of the post and took the towel and dabbed his cock dry of the warming oil. It was slowly sinking back to a limp arc. She took the bowl and left, closing the cell door behind her. Then David realized why the mistress was there. Her hand was suddenly on the knot of ropes binding his arms.
“Bend forward,” she ordered curtly as she pushed, causing David to lean forward. She didn’t let up until his gut touched the top of the post.
David shook his head violently. It wasn’t fair! He couldn’t do something like that so quickly, so why should he be punished for the impossible? He felt a fluttering against his exposed ass, the tendrils of a whip as the mistress playfully fluttered it over his skin.
“The body is an amazing thing…” the mistress said lightly. There was a brief pause, then a swish and a CRACK as the whip struck across his ass, burning hotly. “…the mind governs it, yet at the same time, it governs itself…” CRACK “…The Queen desires come…” CRACK “…whether you wish to give it to her or not, the body has limits…” CRACK “…So the body must be trained, until it can properly serve her desires. The body will resist, slave…” CRACK “But in the end, it will submit to the Queen.” CRACK.
Every time her tendrils struck, David let out a roar of pain through the ball gag. The leather whips hurt far worse than the Queen’s brisk paddling. This wasn’t a reprimand; it was training, just as the mistress said. She struck again and again; David could here the grunt in her voice every time. Inanely, through his pain, he thought it sounded sexy.
“Do you desire to serve the Queen?” CRACK “I said do you desire to serve the Queen, slave!” David nodded violently as another CRACK sounded, his eyes tearing from the sharp pain. A bubbling mass of saliva spurted from his gag and fell free, pooling to where more had fallen earlier. “If you speak the truth, your mind will aid in training your body…” CRACK “…But lie and resist, you will only cause more pain and suffering, and still, you will submit.”
David twisted in agony as the mistress increased her tempo. Both whips struck more frequently across his not beet red ass cheeks. The ropes held him firmly, and when he could not take it anymore, he stood straight against his will. The mistress responded by jerking him down by his arms, then walking around and slapping him across the face, a sound just as loud as the whip against his flesh.
“Do not do that, slave,” she lectured sternly. David saw through watering eyes her sculpted body glazed in sheen sweat, her bosom heaving up and down. One hand gripped his chin roughly, but the other was busy at her privates, her middle finger lightly stroking up and down the fabric of her thong. “It will only increase your discomfort, and since we must wait for your body to replenish, it will not buy you time.”
She dropped his chin, then disappeared from view. David bit hard into his gag.
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK…
David hung weakly in his bonds, breathing hard and sweating. It had been about half an hour since the mistress had left. How long had the whipping gone on? An hour, maybe two? It seemed to last forever.
His ass burned as if it were on fire. He wasn’t bleeding, but the skin had to be raw and chapped. His jaw ached from being pried open around the ball for so long, the straps once again digging into the corners of his mouth. The skin beneath the ropes was tender and sore from reluctant pulling and jerking. Adding to that was the soreness in his legs from being forced to stand so rigid.
He stood longer, until he heard the door open again.
The mistress had returned, dabbing her sweaty chest with a cloth. Behind her was another slave girl. David felt his skin grow cold; she was carrying the saucer and bottles again. Desperately, he shook his head realizing what was about to happen…again.
“You will come again slave,” the hand maiden said as she placed the bowl in position. This woman had deep red hair tied into a pony tail, but was just as sculpted as the first woman. The oil came out, smelling of a different aroma this time. “Four markings. No less.”
His cock didn’t shoot straight so fast this time, his mind clouded by the residual pain and earlier orgasm. But nonetheless, it was soon back to it’s full 8 inches between her slick hands as they stroked up and down, wetting his balls and lightly puckering the head.
Could he truly endure another beating? He wanted to serve Queen Cleopatra, he decided as much already. She had teased him with her quarters and her touch, even invoked her wrath. If he was not satisfactory, he could forever lose her, condemned to work where her presence rarely graced. He needed to produce more seed for her, to bathe those glorious breasts properly.
David closed his eyes, trying to fight the giddy sensation rising up in him. He needed the hand maiden to milk him longer, so his body would make more come. He resisted relaxing, lest he orgasm right away. Instead, he just let her stroke quietly while he focused on controlling himself. Inevitably though, the tingling returned. He still didn’t know if he needed permission from a slave girl.
“Mnn ‘ong ‘oo mmm!” he cried out, then ejaculated hard, forcing his body to buck as if he could shoot out more that way. The hand maiden’s hands tightly worked the vein on the underside of his cock, forcing out the last few drops. Spent and panting, David opened his eyes, only wanting to cry out in frustration.
He was still nowhere near the fourth marking, though his load was actually farther past his first quite considerably.
“You fall short once again,” the hand maiden said, then removed the bowl and toweled him off.
The mistress grinned, having watching the milking from the door. Instead of her whips, she carried a long, thin wooden cane, which she was currently biting down on as she smiled at him. David trembled. The Queen had already caned him once, and that was only to imbue her law into his mind. This was going to be far worse.
The hand maiden departed, once again leaving him alone with the sadistic woman.
“I think I shall work your legs now, slave,” she said as she strolled to him. “And then your ass again as well. You already show improvement, so I fear our time together may be shorter than I originally hoped.”
David felt the thin line of the wooden cane slowly draw against his thighs, rubbing back and forth. It vanished, and then there was a high pitched swish, and a familiar CRACK. He screamed in pain as the line traced across his skin, only to scream again as the mistress drew another…and another….and another…
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