The Trials of Pauline Ch. 13

'They entertain me with their games. I myself have an aversion to body hair but have a curious fascination to see it. My servant Pluto is well covered. The woman is also well endowed with her blonde curls.' Well endowed, perhaps, but far from matching the hairiness of Miss Armitage, Polly mused. She wondered what Cronos would have thought of her?

The woman in the punishment room was sobbing with the torment, screaming out loudly as each lash of the tawse sank deep into the ample flesh of her buttocks. Polly felt nauseated. Perhaps it was to be her turn next with this heavy brute. Her body was already aroused at the thought, lubricating freely, as she speculated on the terrible pain she would have to endure.

When it seemed that the body on the table could take no more punishment, the table unexpectedly revolved through a quarter turn. The woman's face was now facing the hairy brute's groin. Polly had another surprise. The victim being put through the torture was Lucy! Taking a hand full of her tousled hair in his free fist, the monster jerked her head back. As Lucy opened her mouth to gasp, the stiff penis was thrust deep into it.

Polly watched as Lucy's eyes opened in panic. The bulky loins pounded against her face, the rough hair scouring the nostrils at each thrusting stroke. The other hand brought the full might of the strap down her back and over the buttocks. Lucy struggled fiercely, eyes wild with fear, but to no avail. Terrible moans filled the air. The grunts of Pluto matched the rhythm of his savage jabs into her. Loud and coarse. They got louder as his thrusts intensified. With one mighty bellow, his buttocks tensed, thrust hard into the mouth. Polly knew that the spurts of thick sperm would be clogging the throat, choking Lucy. As Pluto withdrew his softening phallus, Polly watched the thick sperm trickling from her the sides of Lucy's mouth as she drank in the air.

Cronos must have pressed the button, for the wall slid down, back into place. The painting returned.

'Now, my dear lady, that was the prologue to your own act. It is time for my entertainment with you.' Cronos led her to an large inclined table. She thought it was an architect's drawing board, covered with felt. But it was more substantial looking. Her hands were snapped into cuffs at the extreme corners of the board, her ankles to the extreme ends of a long foot rest below the table. Her buttocks rested on the lower edge of the table; her head on a cushioned head-rest.

Suddenly, the table tilted, lifting her buttocks and dropping her head until the hips were at a slightly higher level than her shoulders. Polly knew that her bottom was now exposed in a most vulnerable position. Her throat went dry, her belly fluttered with excitement as she saw out of the corner of her eyes, the long birch Cronos took from a case.

'Not too much tonight, Polly. I must save some of you for the feast.' He was draping a square of fine fabric over her bottom. 'It is the festival of the Marquis de Sade. My wealthy friends will be here to celebrate with a blonde English virgin. Tonight is just a curtain-raiser.'

Polly heard the swish of the birch. Her bottom was defenceless.

'Only two-dozen strokes tonight. To familiarise you with the surroundings. But for the festival, a hundred lashes!' Polly's mind almost burst at the thought of the terrible torture she would be expected to endure.

She steeled herself, stuffing the head-rest into her mouth to bite on. Then came the first lash! It stung and burned. Searing pain convulsed her body. The piece of silk did little to deaden the pain. But it saved the skin from fracture. Then another on the other cheek! The pain exploded in her mind as her loins jerked in response. The third was equally severe, crossing the previous stripes, stinging her with blinding agony. Polly could feel the flesh swelling as the blood pounded in the weals.

The fourth; the fifth; the sixth followed in quick succession. Three biting slashes. There came a welcome pause. Polly saw through her tears that Cronos was standing at her side. Her eyes searched the front of his trousers for signs of arousal. She hoped to distract from the painful strokes he now inflicted on her burning cheeks. But in vain. She wondered what his penis was like, imagining it swing from side to side as he wielded the cane. She wanted to feel it! Inside her! Still eighteen to go! The throbbing pain and heat engulfed her loins. Her little button, however, was burning with desire. Surely Cronos would see her sexual arousal in her crack, seeping onto the tufts of hair surrounding it.

Then the lashes continued! Polly felt the strokes less and less as numbness began to engulf her buttocks. Suddenly, unable to control herself, as each lash sank into her flesh, a golden jet spurted from her vulva, soaking into the felt of the table top.

'Ah! Excellent!' Cronos cried. My fellow disciples of de Sade will be most honoured if that is the outcome tomorrow. Don't worry about the floor. It can be cleaned.'

There was a pause after the next half-dozen. Polly could hear her Lord and master breathing hard with the effort. She was aware of her soaking genitals amidst the throbbing heat of the cheeks. There was an atmosphere of steamy sexuality. Then, quite suddenly, as the next stroke whipped her buttocks, Polly gave a stifled cry of anguish as the surge of an orgasm crashed through her. Her buttocks twitched and jerked around. Her loins were ablaze with delicious suffering, her flesh reddened and tender. But unmarked.

Polly looked up at Cronos. He was smiling with satisfaction as he watched the punishment. It came as a surprise to Polly to notice the erection in his trousers. It was almost bursting the fabric. So he could be aroused, after all, she thought. Curious to see it, her hands, which were caressing his thighs lightly, now moved to the bulge. Beneath her delicate strokes, it throbbed and jerked.

As casually as she could, Polly's fingers unfastened the flies of his trousers. With a little fumbling, she extracted the warm shaft and got it between the palms of her hands. Hard and hot, Cronos gasped as cool hands grasped the bare shaft. Peeling open his trousers the hairless groin was exposed to her. Not a hair defaced the white flesh. Groin and scrotum were even devoid of any shadow of stubble. It looked clean and clinical.

'You make a good slave,' he muttered to her. She squeezed his genitals gently, in response.

'And you are such a dominating master,' she replied in a seductive whisper. She slipped the head if his penis between her lips, sucking on it gently. Polly explored his substantial weapon with tongue, lips and fingers, admiring the contours. As she pleasured her master, he continued in a quiet hushed whisper.

'You may remember that Menelaus tried to persuade Proteus to tell him how to return to Sparta.'

Polly stiffened at the mention of the pass word. She paused in her sucking.

'What happened to Proteus? Where did he go?' she whispered as her eager fingers explored his genitals.

'Ah! Mr Raddles! Where indeed! They seek him here, they seek him there. He is sought world-wide. Or, rather, under-world-wide!'

'Please tell me Cronos,' Polly muttered pleading. 'He is my father!' She heard him catch his breath.

'You are not MI6 then?' he asked after a few moments of thought.

'Good heavens, no!' she hissed. But the reply was stifled by his ejaculation bursting into her throat.

His sudden smack across her cheek surprised her. Her head snapped to one side. Then a second slap jerked it the other way.

'Bitch! Slaves do not ask questions. They obey! Go!'

When Polly was escorted to the recovery room, she found Lucy in a state of exhaustion. They smiled weakly at each other. They applied the creams to each other's marks.

'I watched your punishment from Pluto,' Polly told her. 'It was severe.'

'Ah, yes! But I exaggerate the wailing and despair for the sake of Cronos. He likes to hear women suffer at the hands of others.'

'But not at his own,' Polly added. 'That's curious.'

'Did he hurt you very much?' Lucy asked.

'Two dozen, but wearing panties. He wants to keep my flesh whole for the ceremony. Even so, couldn't contain myself. I peed for him.'

Lucy laughed. 'He'd like that! But you must be ready for every degradation they can do to you in the temple. It is a fearsome thing to be the sacrifice.' Lucy decided not to mention the sacrifice who had died from the sadistic beating she got.

'Tell me about it,' Polly asked.

Lucy was reluctant to tell Polly all of what she knew of the sacrificial ritual. She would hedge.

'Well, not having witnessed it personally, I can't be sure. But there'll be eight or ten members of the brotherhood of the Marquis de Sade. They're all influential people in this part of the world. You won't see them though, because they'll be wearing hoods. Each will deliver a few lashes from a variety of implements. Play it up, Polly. Writhe and moan. They might take pity.'

Just then the housekeeper re-appeared and beckoned to Lucy to go with her. Lucy sighed.

'Pluto wants more revenge.' Lucy slipped into a dressing gown. 'A cock suck may be all.' And then she left Polly to finish off her own ministrations.