By Judicial Decree

by Commander James Bondage

  Elenora gritted her teeth at the pain. “Yes… master… ah! Oh my! Yes, it hurt!”

  He continued to force his way into the girl, who obediently remained in her slavish pose, her hands still firmly gripping her ankles while he sodomized her.

  “Perhaps you will remember that I told you how I preferred to use the asses of my slaves, rather than their pussies?” he inquired, driving another inch further into her.

  “Yes, yes, master, I remember!” She almost screamed her answer, so great was the pain of Caine’s invasion.

  “There are two reasons,” he explained. He paused for a moment, his cock buried three inches deep in the suffering Elenora. “The first is that the asshole of a woman, especially a eighteen-year-old like your, is wonderfully tight, tighter even than the tightest pussy. Ah, the way your girlish ass grips my cock is indescribable.”

  Elenora wept.

  “But the second reason is more the more important one,” he continued. “Do you know what it is?”

  “No master, I don’t. Are you almost done?” Elenora sobbed.

  He lashed soft skin of her naked flank with the whip he had retained, and she screamed. Then he shoved another inch of his outsize cock into her. “How does it feel, my dear?” he asked.

  “Oh master, it hurts me so! Please stop. I’ll do anything for you. Please be merciful to your slave,” she begged.

  “That’s the answer, bitch,” he said, whipping her twice more, and forcing several inches into her at once, as she screamed and begged again. “Your suffering is so delightful; your pleas are so pathetic. Your suffering is my pleasure. Don’t let go!” he finished as he jammed his remaining inches into her, and stopped, triumphant, his balls touching the back of her thighs.

  “Oh master… oh please… oh! You’ll kill me!... Oh stop!” Elenora babbled. Her fingernails dug into her ankles as she desperately strove to hold the position.

  “Did you think I was getting a soft spot for you? Did you really think I was falling in love with you?” Caine sneered. He pulled back, so that all his cock below the head emerged from her, and paused again, holding her rectal ring painfully open . “Hold your ass up higher and don’t move, if you want to go on living. This is going to hurt,” he said.

  He plunged back into her in a single mighty thrust, and Elenora screamed and screamed.

  “How does it feel, my love?” Caine asked, as he continued to pump the submissive girl.

  “Oh God, it hurts, master! It’s… you’re ripping me apart… please won’t you finish?” she pleaded.

  “You were right, you know. I did fall in love with you,” Caine admitted. He lashed her savagely several more times, then threw down the whip, took her hips firmly in his hands, and began to pump vigorously in and out of her in a frenzy, handling her like a rag doll.

  “Fuck, you little bitch! Fuck me!” he shouted as he shot his hot semen deep inside the wailing girl. He came to a halt at last, his organ still wedged deep inside her.

  He was silent for a minute or so, panting, sweating, his face red from exertion and excitement. When he finally caught his breath, he told the weeping Elenora, “Unfortunately for you, my dear, this is the only kind of love you will ever get from me.”

  Epilogue

  Caine was unable to hide his pleasure with the new girls Quentin Scales had brought him. They were a beautifully matched set of twins from some Eastern country. Their skins were the color of lightly roasted coffee beans, their hair shimmering waterfalls of silver, their features delicate and refined and their huge, almond eyes remained modestly downcast as he drank in their matching perfection. The girls were short, less than five feet tall, with slender frames and small but amazingly firm breasts capped by chocolate-brown nipples.

  “The papers indicate that they are royalty, or at least nobility back in whatever little Oriental kingdom they came from,” Quentin explained. “Their father was a sultan or some such, who fell into debt from trying to maintain his racing stable, and had to sell his two daughters off for quick cash.”

  “His wives probably produce a half-dozen a year. He’ll never miss these two,” Caine speculated. He eyed their breasts, picturing them bouncing delightfully under a switch. “They look awfully young. Are you sure they’re eighteen?”

  “Eighteen years and three months is the certified age on the title papers,” Quentin reassured him. “You can do whatever you want with them.” He shuddered internally, thinking about what Caine would do to these lovely innocents, but his face betrayed not the slightest sign of his thoughts.

  “How did the girls I brought you last time work out?” Quentin asked.

  “You must join me for a glass of wine and you can see for yourself,” Cain responded. He addressed two of the ubiquitous servant girls who stood waiting silently in the shadows of the great hall. “Lannie, Delia, take these new girls down to Room One and have them prepared.” The servant girls bowed and lead Caine’s newest victims down to the torture chambers below.

  Caine lifted a little silver bell and rang it. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, silently appeared two women who appeared to stand on either side of Caine’s chair. Quentin immediately recognized the two slaves he had bought for Caine six months earlier, Olivia Addison and Elenora Riley.

  He looked them over carefully. Mrs. Addison was got up in a parody of the proper, upper-class matron she once was. Her blonde hair was carefully coiffed, piled high on her head in an elaborate arrangement, she had a tasteful shade of red lipstick on her mouth (and her nipples), a subtle touch of rouge on her cheeks and wore a string of pearls around her slender neck. She would have been the very picture of a young aristocratic housewife, bu for the fact that, other than the pearls and a pair of black high-heeled pumps, she was totally naked. She carried a small silver tray that held a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets. She set the tray down on a side table, poured wine into the two glasses, and handed them silently to Caine and Quentin.

  When he bought her, Quentin had thought that Olivia was a beautiful woman whose looks were partially spoiled by her arrogant air of superiority. That air was gone; she now appeared humble, vulnerable and far more beautiful than the last time he had seen her. He had a pretty good idea how the changes had been accomplished.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Addison,” he said, nodding. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” It was so much a pleasure, I fact that he was beginning to have an erection

  “So nice to see you, Mr. Scales,” Olivia replied graciously. “I trust you had a pleasant journey,” she responded, seeming to play the part of upper-class hostess her appearance indicated.

  “Olivia had a little trouble adjusting at first, and there was some thought that she might leave my employment,” Cain said, resting his hand familiarly on her smooth haunch, “but now she seems content in my service. Am I right, my dear?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “Yes, master,” she replied quickly. Quentin could see the fear in her eyes. Caine had certainly broken this one. “I am very happy serving you.”

  “Good. I need a foot rest,” he said indicating his feet. “If you would be so kind…”

  She quickly dropped to all fours at the foot of Caine’s chair, and patiently remained in place as he lifted his boots and rested them on her naked back.

  “And of course, I’m sure you remember Elenora,” Caine said. “She was worth every single one of the crowns she cost.” His hand slid possessively up the inside of the of her thigh. “She is practically my constant companion, on call at all times.”

  With her huge emerald eyes, flaming mane of hair, rosy complexion and perfect breasts, Elenora was as lovely as he had remembered, even lovelier. She was totally naked. Her face still retained much of the wide-eyed innocence that had made her so irresistible, although now he could read the new knowledge of pain and cruelty she had acquired under Caine’s stewardship. He wondered what Caine had done to her, then decided that he did not want to know.

  Elenora smiled broadly at him. “It’s wonderful to
see you again, Mr. Scales. You were very kind to me.”

  He was kind to her by delivering her to Caine? he thought. He wished again that he could do something for this sweet girl.

  “It’s my pleasure,” he said aloud. “You are more beautiful than ever, Elenora.”

  She smiled at the compliment.

  “Yes, she is quite a little beauty, isn’t she, Quentin? I’ll bet you’d like to feel her tits, hey?” Caine asked.

  Before he could respond, Caine said, “Elenora, go kneel down by Mr. Scales’ chair, and let him fondle you.”

  Elenora obeyed, her face rapidly reddening as she sank to the floor, her breasts just over the right arm of his chair. “Please, sir, would you honor me by handling my breasts?”

  “Go ahead,” Caine said when Quentin stared over him, his jaw slightly open. “You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t want to.”

  Quentin took the wondrous satiny globes in his hands. He closed his eyes and drew in a long slow breath.

  “This is the first time anyone but me has ever touched her,” Caine remarked. “She’s still a little shy, even though she begs me to butt-fuck her every night. Don’t you, my dear?”

  “Yes, master,” Elenora said in a small voice. “Every night after you whip me.”

  Quentin’s erection was growing as he continued to knead the resilient flesh in his hands. He wanted to adjust his pants to try to hide it, but he found it impossible to release the superb tits he was massaging.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t lend you Elenora. I’m keeping her for my personal use for now. But if you like, you are more than welcome to take Mrs. Addison for the night,” Caine offered. “I guarantee she’ll do anything you want, please you in any way you ask, with all her holes, her hands, feet, whatever. She knows what would happen if she left my guest unsatisfied in the slightest respect.” He looked down at the naked, crouching woman.

  Olivia shivered and said, “Yes, of course, Mr. Scales. I would be completely at your service.”

  This was an offer he could not refuse. “Thank you, Mr. Caine, I believe I will take you up on that,” Quentin replied. His erection strained upward, seeking a way out of his trousers.

  “Elenora, open Mr. Scales’ pants and stroke him. Can’t you see that your tits are driving the poor man out of his mind?” he admonished the girl.

  Elenora hastily unbuttoned Quentin’s fly and took out his stiff cock. When she wrapped her delicate fingers around the shaft, he gasped. She pumped up and down a few times, and he exploded.

  “Ah, god, that was good!” he said, sinking back in the upholstery of the chair. “Thank you, my dear girl.”

  Elenora was wiping her face where he had spattered her. “Oh, you’re most welcome, Mr. Scales,” she said.

  “Mrs. Addison, our guest has gotten come on himself. Go over there and lick it off. Elenora, you help her,” Caine ordered.

  Olivia crawled over to join her fellow slave, and together their tongues made quick work of the drops on Quentin’s cock and his clothing. Although he had not ordered them to, the two women went on to lap the last traces of his orgasm from the chair and the nearby floor.

  “Well done,” Caine said approvingly when they had finished the cleaning and Olivia was buttoning up Quentin’s pants. “As you can see, both of them are eager to please. Mrs. Addison, please take Mr. Scales to the Green Bedroom. I advise you to whip her a little before you take her. A little flagellation, especially on her armpits seems to get her excited like nothing else. But of course, what you do is entirely your choice. I trust you won’t inflict any permanent damage, of course.”

  Quentin rose from the chair, Olivia helping him up by holding his arm.

  “Of course,” Quentin agreed. “This is most kind of you, Mr. Caine.”

  Quentin’s sexual tastes were normally very conventional, but the possibilities offered by having this aristocratic beauty at his mercy was already causing him to consider experimenting with something new, if only this one time. He pictured Olivia bent over a chair, crying out as he whipped her, and his erection began to grow again as they walked away.

  Caine found that he was developing hard-on of his own.

  “Elenora, if you would,” he said, indicating the bulge in the crotch of his pants. She opened his trousers and his engorged organ sprang out like a jack-in-the-box.

  “Sit on my lap,” he ordered. “I’m going to bugger you.”

  She moved her bottom over him and took his rigid cock in her hand. She began to rub it rapidly on and just inside the lips of her sex, until the head became slippery with her moisture. Then she placed the head against the little rose of her bottomhole, and began working it in.

  Caine seized her nipples in his fingers and squeezed until the girl cried out in pain. As the first inches of his cock slipped inside her bowels, she moaned.

  “All the way down now,” Caine ordered, and the girl obediently impaled herself on his thick rod. “Oh, master, it hurts!” she cried out, unable to help herself.

  “It’s nice to see old friends again, isn’t it my dear?” Caine asked the writhing suffering girl. She groaned in pain, but did not reply.

  The End