'Sex Slave' published

I have published my latest effort. Hopefully Lulu won't completely end my writing hobby and my attempts to entertain. So if interested give this link a try.

https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/chris-bellows/sex-slave/ebook/product-njwk22.html

The Lulu website upgrade continues to baffle me.

CB

'Sex Slave' Segment I

New story, Female/Male Dominant - female submissive

Enjoy 

CB

*****

Sex Slave

Copyright 2020

By Chris Bellows

An Unabashed Introduction 

The girl stands in silence, respectful silence. The woman lectures, her son listens, eyes glued, curiosity piqued, hoping the throbbing within his loose cotton shorts does not result in embarrassment.

“She’s here to serve us for the summer months, a gift from the Queen. Though she’ll live here she remains royal property. Therefore you will be careful in handling her, Kwame.”

Son Kwame nods, his mother smiling, well aware of the priapic reaction, despite the loose khaki covering the barometer of male sexual attraction.

“How’s she going to do anything... you know... with her hands like that?”

Kwame gestures towards the girl’s left hand, docilely hanging at her side just below her hip, as is her right hand. About the thumb is a heavily gauged loose ring of black iron. A chain is secured leading behind the girl’s back to where it connects to an identical ring about the right thumb. Kwame cannot understand what holds the loose rings in place... until he notes the tip of each thumb seems attached in some manner to the girl’s index finger, making the thumbs useless... other than as convenient loops.  

“Her duties here do not... will not... require the use of her hands, Kwame. And because the Queen has dictated that she is not to play with... ah... touch herself... you have new responsibilities in the house. You will feed and bathe her,” mother Jemila smirks.

She finds irony that there comes no objection, recalling a few years back when son Kwame was first deemed old enough to help out about the house. Assigned the simple task of twice weekly cleaning the kitchen floor, he protested the drudgery as if the twenty minute chore would materially truncate in his play time.

And now? He gawks, his continued silence suggesting agreement.

“And you’ll need to turn on the bidet for her. Obviously her toilet needs become sloppy. And do be gentle in drying her.”

The attention of young Kwame, eyes fixated on breasts of stone with curious small vertical posts of matching wrought iron thrust through the flesh, is diverted to the girl’s pubes. It is shorn... as is the girl’s entire body... head included... and thus prominently displayed are two more rings of wrought iron, the gruffness incongruous in being pressed through the meaty yet delicate flesh of the outer labia. A small padlock connects the two. 

“Wow, Mom... she’s...”

“Chaste, Kwame. That’s the term. She’s held in chastity by Royal decree. I have the key... but it is only to be used during exercise and punishment... which hopefully won’t be needed.”

“Then why...”

“Her hands are secured because girls have a little thing that they can play with... just like naughty boys have a bigger thing... even though vaginal penetration is inhibited.”

Mother Jemila smiles with her blunt explanation. One of the reasons... and there are several... she accepted the gift of the Queen... a woman whom she befriended at private school many, many years ago... was to bring anatomical awareness to son Kwame... having reached the age when indeed boys become naughty and play.

“Now, take her for a shower. She’ll speak with your permission. And you’ll note there are cables and clasps for her nose grommet. One above. One below.” 

Jemila steps forth, hands of deep mocha going to the bald head, the contrasting alabaster skin making her handling conspicuous. The girl knows to meekly tilt back her head as a dark thumb and index finger handles her nose, prodding to separate the nostrils, as if inspecting fruit. Kwame notes that within the nostrils there comes the glint of metal.

“Nose grommet. Girls like this respond best to bondage. Over the years it comes to enthrall.”

Jemila releases her modest grip, finally turning her attention to the girl.

“Would you feel better leashed? You may speak.”

“It may be best, Ma’am.”

“Yes, of course it would,” mother Jemila responding with a sardonic snort. “You will obey my son. And instruct him... how a women like you is to be bathed.”

Jemila steps to a table then returns to hand son Kwame a thin length of nylon, loop at one end, clasp at the other.

“Leash her... but be very careful. I think you can imagine the sensitivity there. She is property of the Queen,” mother Jemila reminds.

Kwame accepts the length, hands shaking in combined concern and delight. He thinks of the snooty Caucasian girls and women, tourists occasionally visiting the local village. And now he has one... on a leash.

He opens the clasp, reaches and easily finds the deeply set grommet. As he leads the girl away, there comes the sound of faint chiming. Jemila recalls the recent afternoon tea with her Highness... her gracious royal friend quite forthcoming when strained matrimonial matters were discussed over mint juleps.

New Story Coming

Look Saturday 7/25/20 for the beginning of a new story, Male/Female Dominant -  female submissive.

Not sure whether it is the Covid thing or folks just losing interest but my Lulu story sales have fallen off a cliff. Hope it is not their website 'upgrade' turning people off, but so far in July I have sold as many stories on Smashwords as on Lulu... and I have not published on Smashwords for 6 or 7 years! The stuff published there is old!

Any readers having trouble with Lulu? Please comment. I cannot believe so many readers have disappeared.

CB