Sunday, December 6, 2009

Short Story VI

The naked beast quickly learns the dynamics of harsh physical servitude. The prong rests between his bent elbows and his spine, held in place by his shackled arms and wrists. In stepping forward his arms pull the prong. That in turn begins the rotation of the capstan. Somewhere in the depths, the motion is transferred to a pumping action.

He imagines the flow rate to be limited, thus there will be many, many daily hours of labor. Perhaps an entire day of his sweat and toil can offer the Princess her bath, the pumped liquid filling a cistern at the palace to await her ablutions.

The weight of his irons is considerable. The hobbling chain offers a limited gait. The task is rigorous. But he quickly learns that momentum can be a friend. Thus as Kendra tugs at the slim pole connected to his nostril tubing, the form fights the stab of pain and leans. When the quirt sears his ass cheek, the added suffering encourages great effort, his only thought to dig with his feet and frantically pull to avoid another stroke.

Yes, after a life of luxury and leisure, his existence becomes one of amazing simplicity... that is to avoid pain... though with Kendra’s exacting governance to minimize pain is the best result to be achieved.

Thus the capstan begins its slow counterclockwise rotation. The nipple bells peel. The feet and legs learn to apply power despite the limited stride. The form also finds that his added weight can actually assist in beginning the initial turn, the most arduous, in that the force of added weight offers momentum.

Once a satisfactory full revolution is attained, Kendra keeps moderate tension on the nostril tubing. Gratefully her whip hand calms and the beast feels teasing caresses of the whip on his penis. Is it engorged?

But the retraction of sharp pain brings to his cortex the more modest and unyielding pain of the nipple piercings and weights. His own motion tortures, the jostle of his footsteps causing the weights to bring enhanced irritation.

The larger weights attached to his hobbling chain bring a different suffering. His leg muscles are incredibly strained. Yet failure to pull, to maintain the slow revolution, earns a nasty snap of the quirt and a yank to the deeply penetrating nostril tube.

Alas, Kendra’s pet finds that in order to avoid the agony of her correcting hands, he must effectively torment himself.

Linger and receive sharp and instant correction... or labor and feel the nipple piercings slowly work his sensitive pink flesh and the hobbling weights drain his energy.

Then there is the visual frustration of gazing at Kendra’s nearly naked and commanding form. Oddly he would indeed like to adore, with his hands... and yes his tongue. Sculpted feminine power, casually strolling to his side, the pole hand tugging when necessary, the quirt hand offering quick rebuke... or tender caresses to his manhood, the tantalizing nearness torments a libido kept forcibly chaste.

Turn, turn, turn, the nipple bells begin to chime in comforting cadence... for Kendra.

“A good beast earns my reward. Show that you can pull without my direct governance and I will lessen the weights.”

Kendra makes her offer of relative mercy after a dozen slow turns. The proposal is not completely condescending. It cannot be imagined that Kendra will guide every step of every long day. No, this is a training session. And the beast understands... the well disciplined will endure only moderate torment... the unruly will suffer more sharply... and for hours.

As the desert sun climbs, the more direct rays begin to bake. Sweat oozes from every pore. The flesh of the naked beast glistens. Kendra smiles, knowing that the well worked form... the picture of servitude... will please the Princess.

“You will need water, my pet. But you will not stop. Pause and you’ll feel my quirt... and not those light modifying strokes. Keep serenading me with your bells. Spare your buttocks.”

The beast continues his footwork as Kendra graciously unhooks her training pole. She smiles noting how little effort was required to acclimate her charge to his sole lifetime duty. But then again, how difficult is it to train oxen?

A nearby shack serves as Kendra’s abode. She can escape the desert sun, rest in comfort listening for the comforting tintinnabulation of the nipple baubles. In time she will return with water... and lessen the burden of the weights. But such will be at her whim.

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