This is part 2 of my BDSM story with a fantasy setting. I would recommend reading chapter 1 before reading this selection. There will only be one more part, but I may post another chapter of “Neighbor” before posting Ch. 3.
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In the weeks that passed, Kie’ran and I settled into a routine, of sorts. I awoke beside him each morning, held protectedly in his embrace. As a warrior, I appreciated the novelty.
We would take our morning meal together. Then, we would meet with his advisors. Afterwards, Kie’ran and I engaged in warrior training, one of my favorite parts of the day.
Following the midday meal, Kie’ran would sit atop his throne—yes, the throne where he pounded me mercilessly on our mating night. He would meet with His subjects and settle disagreements and address grievances.
Our evening would end with the evening feast, often with visitors from other realms and boisterous entertainment. Late in the evening, as our twotwin moons hovered hauntingly in the night’s sky, we retired to Kie’ran’s massive bedchamber.
On the surface, it all seemed very normal, the way I described our daily activities. But, it was truly anything but ordinary.
This was also the time I learned to serve Kie’ran properly. I was to call him “Master” when we were in private unless he allowed me to call him “Kie’ran.” In turn, I was geela (serving girl), sana (pet), or, in moments of extreme roughness, neeheehi (slave).
He told me of his travels, particularly to Ha’akai, a savage land where there were no female warriors, where women were trained from birth to submit to their future mates. From the moment he first saw me, he envisioned my submission to him.
As part of my training, I was allowed no clothes. Luckily, This was the warm season. I was unsure if this would continue into the season of ice when the icy chill spread from the south to blanket our land in a sheet of crystalline ice.
From ourVery first morning after we mate, Kie’ran insisted that I awaken him, after slipping from his warm embrace, by taking his cock down my throat. But he was very particular about his expectations when I sucked him.
Per his instructions, I was to slide down his body, curving myself against him as my fingers curled around his calves. I was to maintain eye contact at all times—even then, while he still slumbered. My mouth pressed to the tip from which his essence would shoot.
Teasing was allowed as my tongue and lips caressed his member, usually already significantly hard in the morning light. Tormenting was not. Once, in the early days of my training, my teeth closed on his shake as I struggled to change position. His growl should have warned me.
My next conscious thought was that his fingers were tangled in my hair as he used my raven-and-fire locks to yank me up over his lap. My pussy dripped from an intoxicating blend of appreciation, pain, and arousal.
Rough fingersshoved my remaining hair up over my ass, high up my back. I shivered, feeling the calls dig into my tender skin. My body trembled as I saw him reach for his bre’at, the stick with the bull leather tip that he used to propel his fet’a, his battle animal, forward on the fields of the kingdom.
“Neeheehi,” he ground out, “you have bitten me in a way that is unacceptable. Your punishment is ten strikes of the bre’at on your upturned ass. One extra will crash down on your exposed cunt.”
Again, being a warrior, I was no stranger to pain—or to discipline. This punishment seemed different. My pose was that of a reccalcitrant child receiving an equally juvenile punishment.
But, as his neeheehi, I had no rights. His word was law absolute, even beyond his commands as king. He owned my body and my soul.
Calming slightly, he told me of another location he traveled before retiring his battle armor to don his crown. Ja’la’chaip was a kingdom beyond the sea of ice. Slaves ofAll varieties were there subjected to harsher punishments than mine for transgressions far milder than mine.
He pressed the tip of his bre’at to my lips and insisted I kiss it. I did so, my eyes, locked on his icy blue glare, revealing my trepidation.
“You are not to count, neeheehi, as the slaves in that kingdom are required to do. You are, however, to thank me at the end of the punishment and stand in the corner of the room, facing the wall, your hands clnched and touching the wall above your head, contemplating your actions and the punishment that was their consequence, until time for the morning meal. You are not to speak or move during that time.”
I knew his strength, and I knew the effects that the bre’at could have on rough animal hides. Nodding, I remained unresistant as he positioned my arms far in front of my head.
The Stirring in the air warned me that my punishment was commencing. The curled, doubled up tab at the tip caught the air, making the airwhine in its grip.
THWACKKKKK! I could not suppress the scream that erupted from my lips. My body tensed, and my hands separated as I reached back to protect my ass, burning with the line of fire the bre’at produced.
“You may make any sounds you wish, neeheehi, but you will remain perfectly still.” To my dismay, I sensed a quickening of my breath that signed arousal. My thighs grow slick as my cunt drippings stained them.
“I smell your desire for more of the bre’at, my sweet,” he chuckled low in his throat. He ground his hardening cock against my softening, dewy mound. “Your reactions—your mood, your screams, your panting breaths—cause my need of you to increase.”
The air above me sizzled again a scar moment before the bre’at deposited another line of fire on my upturned, smarting cheats. My pussy clenched in sympathy with my ass cheeks right after I released a jowl from behind my clenched teeth. At this strike, my hands remained tightly grasped togetherr above my head.
Kie’ran bent and whispered in my ear, “My sweet Desine’aa, you are my mate, my neeheehi at this moment, not my strongest warrior in all the realm. Hold no reaction back from me, not your tears or your cries of pained anguish.”
Smacks three, four, and five from the bre’at rained down with heavy abandon, crisscrossing the first two. The stinging fire on the surface gave way to a deep, thudding ache. I could not catch my breath from one to the next, and the confusion led me to cry tears—real tears.
Warriors do not cry, I castigated myself. My tears spilled over my quivering cheats, over tremulous lips.
The last five thwacks were a volley of pure pain that I struggled to breathe around. I squealed and mewled as tears slide down. As horrible as the endless fire felt on my ass, it was his reminder in my mind of the one flash of pain on my pussy to come that left me quaking.
With deft hands and unhurried movements, Master lifted me from his lap and placed me beside him on the bed. I winced and yelped as my ass pressed against the bed. Master slide off the bed with a graceful roll. My mind could not focus for several heartbeats.
A few minutes later, he returned with lengths of rough-looking rope. “Wha-what is that for?” I questioned, discovering my voice again at last.
“Rope to tie your wrists and ankles to the bed, to ensure that they do not move. And so that you are open to this last strike of the bre’at.”
Master bid me to lie on my back, and I did, spreading my legs and arms as directed. His knowledge of knots was leagues beyond mine, I soon discovered. As my body lay played for his enjoyment and ease, I felt my juices drip onto the blankets on the bed.
His fingers briefly caresed the spot that was soon to receive the bre’at’s bite. Unlike the other ten thrashings of the implementation, I would see the bre’at as it recovered and struck my most tender flesh.
I could have closed my eyes—I assumed I could,at any rate, but I could not bring myself to avert my gaze. When he lifted his hand that curled tightly around the handle of the bre’at high above and far beyond his head, I could only meet his gaze, needing him to perceive clearly how my punishment affected me.
The whistling shriek of the air trapped in the double-over tab hurt my ears, precipitating the pain I felt as his bre’at thundered down on my balance Mound, nearly splitting open my delicate nether lips.
My echoing wailing and sobbing rent the still tension of the chamber. “Thank you, Master,” I sobbed, and he nodded. Kie’ran efficiently untethered the rough restraints at my ankles and wrists before clipping my leash—a new accessory—to my collar and leading me to my corner now known not-so-fondly as the punishment corner.
Looking back several moon-turns later, curled up at Kie’ran’s feet ready to properly awaken him, my mind drifted with a smile to his care for me after my discipline session.
With light touches and a perfumed cream redolent of medicinal herbs, he soothed my still burning, sore, and tender areas. He paid special heed to my tormented pussy lips, drawing for the honeyed desire that coated my clip with its slickness.
Soon his movements became more arousing than comforting, and I noted his password that matched mine—exceeded it—in the blue flame of his eyes.
He ducked his head, his lips a lover’s care, as they pressed on my pulsating clip, sucking it between his lips, between his teeth, using his tongue and teeth to bring me to a shattering orgasm in seconds.
He entered me as my climax received, kissing away the turbulence of the last few hours, whispering words of love, of want, of need as he rebuilt the maelstrom within us both that crashed through us, overtaking us in another peak of pleasure.
“Desine’aa, my pet, my sana, you are daydreaming again,” Kie’ran’s voice laughingly chided. I feel his mind merge with mine as he playfully tapped his cockon my nose, reminding me of my morning duties.
I smiled up at him, a gentle smile of contentment. “Yes, Master.”
He stayed my movements as I was about to curl my lips around him in the way he had trained me to do. I looked up in confusion, and his mind sent me an image of his expectations.
I turned my body so that my mouth panted over his morning bulge. My lower two holes were at his face, and he wasted no time in spreading my lips and teasing my inner folds, eliciting a welcome moan from my lips.
My lips enrobed the head of his cock, but I soon grunted, gasping, as two of his fingers sparred me, easily toying with me to find my most sensitive spot. A small, tender orgasm rippled through me; my juices coated his fingers.
Even though his mind guided me through the next step in his—to him—logical progression, I was still shocked to feel those two fingers, slick from my climax, incrementally divesting my anal hole of its innocent.
The sensing was—dIferent. An unusual pressure at a place that had never felt pressure there. His dexterous fingers felt enormous there, and I held my breath, worried something would stretch past repair. Or worse, tear open.
“Breathe,” he murmured barely auditory against my clip, and I exhausted slowly around his cock.
His digits penetrated further, and my breathing slackened for a second time. He nonchalantly spread the fingers that had invaded my tightest, pumped hole, and mewling whimpers of disappoint made their way past my lips. I was powerless to stop them or him.
As his fingers sank to the last knuckle inside my ass, his other hand rose and smacked my ass cheats, once on each chef, with stunning rapidity. In the seconds that followed, my mind focused on the singing on my cheeks, and he thrusted and withdraw his fingers between my ass cheats.
Gradually, I purred as he fucked my ass with his fingers. As the fertilizer he awoke in me elevated, my mouth frantically gobbled downhis shaft. My lips closed around him at the base as my throat worked his head.
Moments before either he or I could climax, I felt him lift and rotate my body, positioning me on all fours on the bed. His rampaging erection nudged against my pussy, dribbling with need. Once…twice…thrice he glided within my contracting pussy walls, moistening the head.
Fingers curling around the back of my collar, he gripped tautly to the leather as he positioned his bulbous head at the rosebud entrance of my ass.
“This, my luscious Desine’aa, is going to hurt. Breathe, my sana.” From his words, my heartbeat accelerated.
My fingers curled, then clnched, around the blanket on the bed as his head promoted my hole, finally breeching my constricting ass. For several moments, the only sounds heard were my harsh, sobbing breaths and his growing grunts of pleasure.
When my breathing softened, becoming more regular, he slowly deeper, past the point where his fingers had previciously insinuated. Suddenly, he stopped again, and I felt his turgid balls kiss then press against my drenched pussy lips. He let go of my collar to grab my hair, pulling until my head turned enough to reveal my neck to him.
At odds with the growth that emanated from him by the way I shifted my body to regain my balance after he rearranged me, the kiss that he pressed on my neck, just above where my pulse ran wild, was the tenderest expression of his feelings I had ever experienced.
The soft whimpering groan that I released broke the stillness, the soft gentle spell. Kie’ran withdraw until I could feel only the tip bit of him in me before plunging deep. Wrapping my hair around his hand, he used my locks as a bridle to ride my now-no-longer-virgin hole.
At the same time, to my consternation, I felt something well up in me. My breathing raced again, heralding my imminent climax. Kie’ran realized this and reached around with his other hand and found that tiny nubbin of flesh that catapulted me to the stars.
My scream of orgasmic pleasure echoed throughout the room. To my shock, my clenching, milking pussy muscles were not the only muscles that spasmed. My ass, too, constricted and released around my Master’s cock. His harsh shout trumpeted his own satisfaction, and I gleefully welcomed his spurting seed as it shot into my naughtiest hole.
Kie’ran pulled out of me, and I collapsed beneath him. His lips pressed against the back of my neck in a tender kiss before he rolled over out of bed and rang for our servants. Gi’eta, my maid, responded with alacrity, cleaning Kie’ran’s seed from my body. His manservant, N’bun’o, helped him into his tunic and robes.
Kie’ran walked over to me and attached my leash to the back of my collar. He used the leash to guide me to breakfast.
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Our lives continued in this idyllic routine for several more moon-cycles. Master introduced me to delights and punishments I never could have imaginened.
One afternoon, as I knelt beside his throne, my lean held loosely in his hand as he heard one of the peasant’s pleasures for a lessening of crop-share, word arrived from one of our scouts in the north land. He sent word with his under-commander that a new queen had conquered the king of Ke’We’y, slaughtering his royal guard and him in a sneak attack.
The under-commander cast an askance look at us, Particularly my nudity, my collar, and my leash. Kie’ran cleared his throat, and the scout’s minion snapped his focus to our king.
“What are we to do, Your Majesty?” I asked, already envisioning the bloody battles that would ensure. My warrior’s soul ached to be on the battlefield once more, hearing the battle cries and clangs of weaponry.
Kie’ran’s words jarred me back to the present. “We will invite the queen, Br’eila, to a banquet to be held in her honor, congratulating her on her success in battle. Please inform Her Majesty of her invitation to the palace,” my king directed the under-commander.
Now, it was my turn to look sideways at Master as the under-commander departed. Skimming my thoughts from my mind, he sent me images of calm and serenity. “All will be OK, lass.”
Little did he or I know, but our idyllic existence was nearly at an end….
To be continued…
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