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The Switching Of A Lady (Slave Kala)

The Switching Of A Lady by Slave Kala


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On a mission for herself and her family, but Lost deep within the ancient woods of England, a young highborn lady encounters an uncouth ruffian who claims to own the land she rides upon. Does he, or will he simply ravage her, force her to give herself over to him, in order to even hope, to one day see her husband again.
Or perhaps, he is her husband...

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 8 / 2010

No. words: 8577

Style: Erotic Romance, Just Spanking

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


The whip cracked hard against her side. She flinched and shuddered, cringing away from the blow, but set her jaw and refused to cry out. She had already sobbed and pleaded during the last few hours, crying and begging for mercy; it gained her nothing but cruel verbal taunts in the form of false mocking sympathy and cursive abuse, in addition to the beating. Her captor was pitiless, he would show her no mercy, he would do with her just exactly as he pleased, she thought, as the whip came down across her shoulders, raising yet another welt.
The man had caught her as she walked in the back door of her lovely two story home, knocking the groceries from her hands, pinning her arms cruelly behind her back and slipping plastic wrist restraints on her before she had even had a chance to comprehend what was happening to her. Wrapping an arm tight across her throat, he warned her against struggling and then dragged her quickly, her high heeled black pumps dragging deep furrows into her richly piled 30.95 a square foot mullioned carpet, into the bedroom; which he clearly had spent time preparing while he waited impatiently for his victim to return.
The covers had been stripped off the king-sized four-poster bed, leaving only a bed sheet. More depressing, a leather hospital style restraint had been attached to each post. Candles, she had noted as he threw her roughly down across the bed, had been lit and placed in profusion on the dresser and bedside tables. With the pressure gone from across her throat, she had turned her head and opened her mouth, but before she could say a word he snatched a waiting ball gag from the foot of the bed and grabbed her roughly by the hair, forcing her mouth wide and stuffing it in before strapping it deeply in place, silencing intelligible speech. Her captor forced her face down on the bed, then slowly almost teasingly, slid her knee length purple skirt off; tossing it aside before repeating the act with first her unexciting white cotton panties, and then her black nylons. When she was naked from the waist down he took one of her feet and brought it towards the bedpost. She had lain still as he buckled the restraint tightly around her ankle, not wanting to antagonize him, but he said nothing about her cooperative behavior as he spread her other leg and restrained it to the other post; leaving her with her hands pinned impotently behind her back with her legs spread wide and firmly attached to her own bed.
Next he had climbed atop her, straddling her hips and placing one hand on her shoulder to push her flat, he began to work her short summer jacket off and she wiggled a little, trying to make it easy for him, then when he had the garment bunched around her restrained wrists he followed it with her shirt and then finally her bra; leaving all three items bunched around her hands. His next act was ingenious, pulling another plastic tie from his back pocket he slipped it around her nude arms just beneath the elbows and pulled it tight, giving her no effective chance to resist as he pulled out a sharp looking knife and cut her wrists loose. The clothing came off and was tossed aside, leaving her naked and he touched the knife almost gently against the side of her neck, a steel caress as he warned her not to try something stupid in a steely voice; telling her that she was completely helpless and utterly at his mercy. She believed him easily, giving a little shudder and a small nod to show she understood, she had cooperated completely as he freed her arms before quickly tying her wrists to the other two bedposts, leaving her abjectly spread eagle and naked across her own bed.
That had been when he finally climbed off her and picked up the whip he had left on the dresser; what had followed was an unbelievably harsh beating, the torture was slow, considered, meticulous, designed for maximum effect. The whip and a wooden rod interspersed with a few minutes here and there of burning hot wax from the candles while he worked her over methodically, leaving absolutely no room for her to hold herself back, keep herself in, force herself to stillness and enduring stolidity. At some point he had removed the gag just to better hear her while she cried, at about the time in fact that he spent a good solid hour working over just her buttocks with the wooden rod; leaving her ass with a deep dull throbbing she knew she’d be feeling for some time. But he hadn’t neglected any part of her exposed flesh, oh no, not he, the maleficent bastard, giving time to her shoulders and sides as well as her inner thighs and lower legs.
Now, a good six hours later she ached all over, a deep fervid pain starting at her shoulders and went all the way down to the soles of her feet, which had also received attention from the wooden rod; but the worst pain of all was her poor bum. Unbelievable pain shot through her when he so much as brushed his palm across it, and he usually did more then brush, he gripped and squeezed, slapped and pinched, laughing softly as she groaned in pain, refusing to invite the verbal taunts she had learned she would receive if she begged.
She felt another blow lick the inside of her thigh, partially deflected off metal and she shuddered as she recalled what else he had done to her; the pair of sharp metal clamps he had shown her with a smile on his face, before urging her to raise her hips with his free hand. The clamps, metal, sharp edged and looking strong enough to hold hundreds of pages together, had gone over her labia pinching it painfully shut, then a third clamp, much smaller, went into her belly button before he had joined all three with a single strand of metal chain. Pulling them taut so a sharp ache spread through her belly with the slightest movement,and she had moaned, making him chuckle; the pressure on her vagina was beginning to drive her absurdly crazy.
A moment passed without a blow and then another before she heard the whip drop softly to the floor, she tensed wondering if he would change to the rod or go back to the candles next, but she felt him climb up on the bed and she turned her head as far as she could to watch the man as he knelt between her forcibly spread and fettered thighs. The pain had long ago taken her full attention, she hadn’t realized he’d stripped and wondered how long he’d been beating her while himself naked, his rampant manhood exposed to the warm caress of the air. He knelt now above and behind her, between her wide spread legs, and despite her vagina being clamped shut she knew it was time to get fucked. He met her gaze with a malicious smile, grin broadening as he saw the comprehension in her limpid eyes; she turned her head away and dropped her face into the pillow he had oh so thoughtfully given her after the first hour or so, hiding herself from his praying gaze. She ground her mouth against the soft cotton, knowing it would hurt but she couldn’t help stiffening, raising her head and lowing like a cow in agony as he grabbed her darkly bruised cheeks in his two strong hands and pulled them wide apart. He chuckled as a long quiet whistling noise came from her rear, and she couldn’t help feeling embarrassment as she farted.
“Excuse yourself slave,” he said mockingly.
He had renamed her Bitch Slave during the beating, during one of the tirades of verbal abuse.
“I’m sorry master, please forgive me,” she answered, playing along.
He smiled and shifted a little, positioning himself. She realized he wasn’t going to use a condom, he wasn’t going to use lube either, he was going to use pure brute strength to force himself inside her anus which would, of course, be so much tighter then her closed vagina and thus cause him that much more pleasure.
“Relax slave, it will hurt more if you tense,” he whispered maliciously in her ear.
She tried to obey his advice, concentrating on relaxing the inner muscles that would rip and tear if they were tight when he drove himself in. It worked a little, and he saw it or perhaps felt it in his grip on her cheeks; he drove himself in instantly, a long deep thrust that left her screaming against the pillow. She lay in her bonds sobbing hard as he rode her.
He drove all amazing eight inches of his hard pulsing shaft into her tight sphincter but he had spent hours in what he considered foreplay, now she felt the thrusts deep in her belly, exactly three of them before she felt the wet stickiness deep inside her as he spurted with a groan. Deep stuttering bursts filled her as he thrust twice more before collapsing atop her. She heard his harsh breathing, felt his breath stir her hair as he lay on her quietly for a moment, then he slowly, exhaustedly thrust once more and she felt another hot spurt fill her before he withdrew and rolled off, lying beside her on the bed breathing harshly.
She cried into the pillow, filled with pain as she felt her sphincter pumping, forcing the foreign fluid from her rear-end where it pooled tackily against the underside of her thighs and dripped onto the sheet. The man, having gotten his rocks off seemed content; he lifted a hand and placed his palm flat on her back, his breathing slowing to a more normal rhythm. The last few hours of her life had been hard, filled with pain and humiliation as her captor tortured and abused her, but she knew it was over now, he was done. As he stroked his hand up and down her spine the force of her crying slowed, the pain was still there but she felt warm and safe; he would do whatever else he felt like doing and then he would release her she knew. She couldn’t help stiffening and giving a sharp cry as his hand slipped past the base of her spine down to the center of her right cheek, which he pinched.
She turned her head and looked at him sharply, his face was shadowed, the sun had gone down hours ago and the only light came from twenty or so candles scattered around the room, but she could see his self-satisfied smile as he squeezed her again, hard. She stiffened and groaned, her ass ached; she met his gaze squarely, looking deep into her captor’s eyes.
“Master enough, please don’t hurt me anymore.”
He chuckled as he slipped his hand off her ass; a minute later the last of the buckles were undone and she was free. She twisted beneath him as he came back down on top of her, burying her beneath the hot sweaty weight of his body. Wrapping her arms around his neck she nuzzled her face into his shoulder, lifting her hips to keep her badly bruised bottom off the bed as she hooked her ankles around his thighs.
“My god how I love you,” she murmured, and she heard him chuckle again.
“No no slave,” he admonished. “Master’s more than good enough, I’m not quite that conceited.”
She couldn’t help but laugh softly into his shoulder, her melodious honeyed mirth filing the privacy of the bedroom with its rich warmth. They lay together quietly for a minute, then she remembered the clamps and what they had been doing to her for hours. Before she said anything though her eyes instinctively sought the clock, the digital alarm clock squatted patiently amidst sputtering candles and she saw the time.
“I can’t believe it, it’s after ten. I got home at three.”
“Mmm, I know.”
“Seven hours, I can’t comprehend the kind of control that took,” she exclaimed, imagining his hard throbbing inside her.

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