Nicole pushed herself up on her tiptoes and returned Peter’s smile: “I miss you, too! When will I see you again?”
Peter remembered the recent conversation with Meghan, who had given him some tips on how things normally worked between her, her master, and visiting guests.
Nicole's heart made a leap when Peter responded in an unexpected, but not unwelcome, way: “When I have time for you, slave girl. You know the drill: I’ll arrange it with your mistress. I heard about your new, er, living quarters, and I want to see you there.”
With her study material transferred to the basement, Nicole spent many of her waking hours immersed in her subjects. Without access to her laptop, Nicole adapted to studying the traditional way: By perusing books, and taking notes with pen and paper.
After struggling initially, she increasingly warmed to learning that way. It helped to have several hours of time in a quiet environment—only interrupted by phases of vigorous exercise to clear her head and get her blood flowing—to work through a tricky question, and to work through a difficult subject matter repeatedly.
Gradually, even Nicole’s academic nemesis, statistics, started to make sense to her.
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The time in the basement gave Nicole ample time to indulge in her daydreams. Even when aroused by them, Nicole avoided steadfastly touching herself. Meghan had warned her that doing so would be severely punished. But it was hard to keep her fingers away. Some of Nicole’s mental images made her warm and excited inside.
"Nicole, the slave girl, hurried back to her owners’ country estate, balancing a jug of olive oil on her shoulder. She forced herself to ignore the stings of the rough stones under her bare feet.
She cursed the mistress of the house, who, concerned about Nicole potentially running away, made her wear a heavy iron chain clamped to her legs. It made walking much more strenuous and cumbersome.
Nicole knew that she had to hurry, lest she be whipped for being lazy."
Without a clock in the basement, Nicole had no sense of time most of the day, but she suspected that it was late afternoon. That was usually when Meghan scheduled her playtime.
“This one will be a bit of a challenge, Nicky,” explained Meghan, "not gonna lie. But it’s worth it, you'll see. Mind that this is not to punish you, more to expand your mind.”
“How do you mean that?” asked Nicole. Her legs were already locked to the machine. The whole set-up, including the flogger in Meghan’s hand, seemed rather intimidating.
“Pleasure and pain, one in essence,” answered Meghan. She shrugged upon noticing Nicole’s stare of incomprehension. “It’s hard to explain, sorry! You need to experience it to understand. I’ll fix you to the seat, then we get going.”
Meghan had undergone this treatment multiple times at the hand of her master. She remembered well how it felt for her mind to dissolve in a wild and inextricable swirling of pain (from having her breasts flogged) and pleasure (from what the penetrator did in her vagina. She recollected riding a series of orgasms, where the stinging pain from the flogging punctuated the torrent of lust submerging her.
Now, her experience was quite different, and she retroactively gave thanks to her master for carefully navigating her through this experience: This was more like cautiously driving down a winding mountain road, or cooking a delicate dish: Monitoring Nicole’s reactions, she had to constantly adapt the strength and frequency of the flogging, and the intensity of the penetration.
It was still a fascinating activity: Watching Nicole “suffering” under the erotic torture and savouring how Nicole was in her power. But it did require a cool head and ongoing concentration.
Meghan mused, closely watching Nicole screaming and gyrating in her fetters: How much more can I squeeze out of you, Nicky? A couple more minutes for sure. From what I know about you, you’ll appreciate being fucked till you faint.
When Nicole regained consciousness, she found herself cradled in Meghan’s lap. Too exhausted for conversation, she just sighed happily and looked up to her mistress. Now, she needed time to recover and to process what she had just gone through. Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy, and she fell asleep.
Meghan smiled softly, draped Nicole’s slack body on the mattress and left quietly.
Exhausted after the recent session on the chair, Nicole gave her daydreams free rein:
“I’ll cut you open and gut you like a fish,” growled the man, scraping Nicole’s belly with his halberd. “Beg me for your life, wench! Beg me and my buddies to fuck you! And make it convincing, or I’ll feed you your own guts. Muahahaha!” He ended with a nasty laugh.
Nicole, naked, helplessly spreadeagled, and chained, whimpered and began begging for her life.
A couple of times per day, Meghan visited Nicole personally in the basement to check on her progress, and to make sure that Nicole did not forget that Meghan was checking on her progress. When Nicole deserved a reward for good behaviour—or when Meghan was in the mood for it—such a visit devolved into a mutually pleasurable endeavour.
When Meghan was not happy with what Nicole did, things went less pleasantly. Meghan then gave her a couple of strokes with the flogger. Nothing too brutal, but still painful enough to be a reminder that worse was in store if she did not do what she was ordered to do, and according to the expected standards.
At this moment, Meghan was dissatisfied with the amount of exercise Nicole put in between study sessions and made quite clear that she expected more effort from Nicole.
Nicole, even though she certainly did not enjoy being beaten, found the tension under which she lived strangely attractive. This was pretty much how she envisioned a slave girl to live Naked, shackled, living in grungy surroundings, forced to work, used for pleasure, under constant threat to be punished for transgressions. For Nicole, this was... not heaven by any means, but what she wanted to experience.
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In Nicole’s daydreams, influenced by the dungeon of sorts where she spent most of her time, she relished picturing herself in peril situations with a medieval flavour:
The jailer greedily pawed Nicole’s breast and leered down at her: “Hehe, we’ll have lots of fun together. I’ll pay special attention to my little pet here.”
Besides spending time on her academic subjects, Ncole was expected to keep herself in shape. Meghan repeatedly stressed the need to exercise sufficiently and showed her various ways to keep herself fit.
Nicole found vigorous physical exercise to be a good way to balance her learning activities. Whenever she felt herself getting tired or distracted, she put in a couple of minutes of calisthenics to get her blood pumping again.
Again, Nicole whiled away her time in the basement imagining herself in some terrible peril. Of course, she knew that she never was likely to (or even wanted to) encounter this, but it was still exciting to imagine that, in some other universe, another Nicole might be dragged away by a burly barbarian.
Half-dazed, Nicole felt being dragged across the rough ground. The Viking raider pulled her along like a bag. After ripping off her dress, he had leered at her nude body. When he uttered something in his rough barbarian language while wearing a lustful grin, she understood only too well what he meant without knowing the meaning of the words.
To Nicole’s surprise, Meghan spent some time training her to dance. “Men like that kind of thing,” Meghan explained. “If you’re able to make your master happy, you’ll have an easier life.”
Meghan clearly wasn’t an enthusiastic dancer, but, like all other things, she took these duties seriously. So, she watched and critiqued Nicole’s every move.
If she doesn’t like my dancing, she’ll whip me. Nicole shuddered, part in fear, part in excitement about the possible consequences. She didn’t want to be punished, but she still relished the implied risk of what might happen to her.
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Sometimes, Nicole’s daydreams strayed into more violent territory. While fully aware that she would never want to encounter such a situation in real life, Nicole still found it exciting to imagine herself in desperate peril.
The barbarian let Nicole hang like a bedsheet, or rather a trophy. Again and again, he kicked her backside to let her swing and squirm.
Naked, afraid and in pain from the abuse, Nicole screamed for help that would not arrive. Instinctively, she knew that this was just the prelude for worse to come: Soon, the barbarian would throw her to the ground and descend upon her like a force of nature.
For Nicole, the inability to relieve her arousal added to the spiciness:
During the day, Nicole’s arms and legs were free, so that she could study and exercise. However, she was always aware that Meghan could watch her on camera. It was crystal clear that being caught touching her private parts would have dire and unpleasant consequences for Nicole.
During the night, Nicole's legs were shackled, and her arms locked behind her back. Meghan wanted to make it impossible for her to give in to her temptations. All Nicole could do was moan softly and writhe in the darkness, with her crotch wet and tingling.
“Come in, Peter. Glad to see you!” said Meghan by way of greeting. “I suppose you want to head down right away to see Nicky?”
“Wait,” answered Peter, “actually, there is something I wanted to ask you first.”
“Oh!” Meghan raised an eyebrow, indicating her curiosity.
“I thought about what you told me. Back in your, er, harem you usually didn’t wear clothes when greeting guests of your master, right?” Peter grinned, a bit sheepishly, but also feeling that he was making his point. “I mean, in a way I’m a guest, too—” He pointed at Meghan. “—by proxy.”
Meghan grinned back: “Stable. We called it ‘The Stable.’” It was quite clear what Peter was driving at. Had he come up with that train of thought all on his own? Should she play his game?
On the one hand, Peter lacked experience. Could she trust him to behave responsibly? On the other hand, he wasn’t a loose cannon. In a flashback, Meghan remembered a wild night with the football varsity team a few months back. She had joined the sorority as one of the “prize girls.” Compared to some of those guys, Peter was a paragon of maturity.
“Well—” Meghan dragged out her response, inwardly enjoying Peter’s eager and hopeful look.
“Well—" said Meghan, making up her mind about how to deal with Peter. Damn, she missed men in her life! Her master did not force her to be celibate, but she could not have a boyfriend, either. Peter had a point. And he was pretty good-looking.
Still smiling, Meghan stripped off her top and proceeded to slide down her pants. She said demurely: “As you wish, sir.”
Holy fuck! This really worked! As Meghan stripped in front of him, Peter could not believe his good fortune. He relished watching her every move and hesitated, wondering about how to proceed. Peter’s throbbing erection urged him to release his inner tiger, but his sense of decorum tried to hold him back.
“Just a tip,” continued Meghan quietly, apparently sensing his indecision. “With slave girls, just do what you feel like doing. Don't hold back. We’re used to, er, assertiveness, and we rather like it that way.”
“Assertive, eh?” mused Peter, then he moved in. Without another word, he grabbed Meghan, bent her backwards and started to kiss her. This was no normal kiss; he pushed his tongue into her mouth and used it to fondle Meghan’s tongue. Breathing through his nose, he kept going and clung to Meghan’s face like a vampire sucking blood out of a helpless victim.
Peter hadn’t told Meghan what to do with her arms, and, instinctively, she clasped her wrist behind her back. Her arms weren’t tied, but they might as well have been. Meghan felt herself melt in the tight embrace. This felt so good!
When the basement door opened, Nicole found herself in a roller coaster of emotions: Surprise – she had not expected any visitors. Joy – When she saw Peter, her heart leapt. She was happy to see him again. Consternation – Why was Meghan naked, and Peter casually cradling her waist? A pang of jealousy – What was Meghan doing with Peter? Nicole had assumed that Peter was interested in her. Confusion – What was going on? They were standing in the doorway, watching her cooly.
“Peter, I—you—I’m so—” stuttered Nicole.
On the way down the stairs, Peter had contemplated what to do when he arrived. As Meghan had stressed, the girls liked him to be assertive. Very well! He didn’t have to emulate Attila the Hun, but why not one of the ancient Roman patricians? One of the greatest civilizations in history had been built on the back of slaves, after all.
“Hello, Nicky!” he said mildly. “How is my favourite slave girl?”
Nicole’s face, showing mainly her inner confusion up to now, lit up when he said that.
Turning to Meghan, Peter continued: “Has she been good? Studying well?”
“Oh, yes, very good,” answered Meghan, then grinned: “She even starts to get the hang of statistical tests.”
“Smart girl! She just needs the right, er, incentives, eh?” Peter smiled toward Nicole, who looked equally delighted with the compliment and troubled about the meaning of the ‘incentives.’ “I guess she deserves a reward then, while servicing her master, of course.”
Meghan’s grin widened while Nicole looked a bit scared: “Yes, I’d say so. Do you want me to secure her hands? We don’t want her to hurt herself, do we?”
Peter immediately picked up on Meghan’s suggestion: He remembered that Nicole enjoyed it when her hands were being shackled. He nodded and patted Meghan’s buttock: “Of course, girl! Go ahead! Arms behind her back.”
Meghan pulled Nicole’s wrists behind her back and locked them in place. Even though this had happened often enough in the past, Nicole relished the delightfully humiliating situation.
While standing naked in front of Peter who watched her intently, Nicole had time to process what had just happened. Her inner voice chided her: You dummy! You’re a slave girl, not his girlfriend. Meghan is a slave girl, too. Of course, he can use both of you. Remember what Meghan told you about the Stable. Now suck it up and do what you’re told!
The humiliation of being just another naked slave girl, presented for the enjoyment of her master, made Nicole’s belly tingle with delight and anticipation. She was lucky that Peter chose her today. He might as well lie down with Meghan and let Nicole just watch. The idea of being forced to do that — the utter humiliation of letting her beg to be taken just to ignore her — sent Nicole’s arousal into overdrive.
Noticing Peter’s glance sliding down to her crotch, Nicole was sure that her glistening slit betrayed how she felt. By now, the feeling of unrequited arousal was very familiar to her. Nicole unconsciously swayed her hips as a sign of eager invitation.
While Meghan was busy shackling Nicole’s hands, Peter had taken took off his shirt. It seemed the natural thing to do. He had decided to stop overthinking the situation, and rather to just go with the flow. He was here to use the girls, and especially Nicole, for his pleasure!
So, as soon as Nicole was ready, Peter grabbed her and pushed her down onto the rack. When his finger probed her crotch, she jumped a bit and whimpered. There was a tube of lubricant nearby, but Peter found that this was entirely unnecessary. Nicole was already well-lubricated, with her juices dribbling down her legs.
With a sense of elation and relief, Peter pulled out his penis and shoved it into Nicole’s vagina. Not brutally, but forcefully and as far as it would go. Nicole screamed, but not in pain. The screams intensified, as Peter started to push in and out.
Nicole climaxed very soon, after just a few strokes. Peter had to pin her wildly shaking body down forcefully. She was already well into another wave of arousal when, with a grunt of relief, he discharged deep inside her.
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