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Subject: Journal Entry 246 / 0519  [ A Day At The Castle ]
Message-ID: <1992Jun16.054238.13670@nwnexus.WA.COM>
From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Date: 16 Jun 92 05:42:38 GMT
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     Journal Entry 246 / 0519

     They must have let me sleep late, because the first thing I
remember is coming to consciousness by myself, which is pretty unusual
in itself for Rhysh.  I went to the bathroom and my appearance in the
mirror was pretty wretched, so I washed my face off with a cloth and
soap and decided that I looked better.

     I hate Gessler nullifiers!  The first thing I knew as I looked in
the mirror was that hand about my throat and the words "What are you
doing standing?" at my ear.  Lynn!

     "Yes, mistress," I said, dropping to my knees quickly.

     "That's better, Kennet.  I let you sleep late, you know.  We have a
lunch date."  A cold band was snapped about my neck and she said,
"Come!," walking way.  There was a jerk at my throat.  Leashed, I was
led out into the hallway, which was now bustling with slaves going about
the more mundane activities of cleaning and carrying.  Lynn led me
through a variety of halls to the western covered dining square, a large
room set with many tables and whitewashed mesh chairs.  I crawled as
quickly as I could to avoid the choking leash as she led to to one of
the larger tables.  I could see a pair of black bellbottom pants under
the table.  Next to the chair knelt a young FemTindal.  "Teela," Lynn
said.

     The legs uncrossed.  "Lynn!  Oh I'm so pleased you decided to take
me up on my invitation.  You look good.  How have you been?"

     "It's been interesting," Lynn replied.

     "Is that your choice?" Teela asked.  "He looks a touch scrawny, my
dear.  Why him?"

     "I have my reasons.  Have you seen his face?"

     "No.  May I?"

     "Of course," Lynn replied.  Warm, furry fingers traced under my jaw
and lifted my head up, and I was looking into the eyes of a somewhat
siamese Felinzi, examining me carefully.

     "Oh," she said as she let me go, my head immediately dropping back
to its more submissive downward gave.  The floor was very carefully
varnished wood, set with little rivulets as each plank met plank.  "I
see your reasons."

     I couldn't see it, but I could feel Lynn's smile.  "Yes.  He is
quite a prize, don't you agree?"

     A large Uncia came by and said "Mistresses, what would you have?"

     Teela and Lynn ordered lunch as I knelt on the floor, waiting.

     "You have to watch tonight," Teela said.  "It's positively the
hottest scene being acted out in the castle."

     "Oh, really?" Lynn asked quietly.  "What's been happening in my
absence?"

     "You remember Dane Grell?"

     "Isn't he that tall Markal?  The one with the big roleplaying
kick?"  Lynn mused for a moment.  "As I recall, he was quite a hit among 
the younger set.  Although anyone with the time could have found that he
took his ideas from watching old Terran cinema."

     "Only AIs have that time, Lynn.  Quite a strength to give up."

     "But I like being human.  It has such advantages.  Especially when
one has such lovely pets."  She reached down and stroked my hair.  The
shame of being her 'pet' was starting to overwhelm.  "Now you were
talking about Dane."

     "Yes.  He has this wonderful little scene that you simply must
attend.  His latest conquest is a slave named Debard.  And you must
watch these two in action.  They'll be playing tonight, in the main
courtyard.  Promise me you'll watch."

     Lynn nodded.  "I shall.  Since you say it's quite a sight."

     Naked, I kneeled on the floor next to my mistress, quietly waiting
her next command, painfully aware.  Teela's own toy was a tall, lovely
girl who never looked up, never spoke.  Better trained than I, I
realized.  Lynn's hand would sometimes fall into view, sometimes with a
small morsel that I gratefully licked from her fingers.  She seemed to
find that amusing, and would stroke my hair afterwards.

     The hour passed quietly, and Lynn took my leash and said, "Come."
Leading me quickly across the floor, past chatting masters and kneeling
slaves, I became quickly aware of just how lost I was, how mixed in with
this environment where I was just one of many.  Well, not 'just.'  I was
still a prize slave, if only for my origin if not my training.  And Lynn
still had the respect of the populace of Rhysh, as she had said
yesterday.

     She led me to a wide curtain and spoke to someone standing there,
"Have him washed.  I would like him prepared before the evening's
festivities begin."

     "As you wish, My Lady," the voice replied, indicating to me that I
was listening to an Uncia.  "You," the voice continued, tugging at my
leash, "Under the curtain."

     I complied with the command, crawling under the curtain and coming
into another wide circular area, at the center of which was a large
pool.  "You may stand in here," said another voice.

     I slowly rose to my feet, feeling the change in demands to my sore
and aching muscles.  The punishments of the morning had faded somewhat,
but I was still aching.  I looked for the origin of the voice and when I
recognized the speaker, I stuttered for a moment before managing to
stammer, "Ally?"

     Ally Kowling smiled her patented smile at me.  "Hello, Ken."

     "What are you doing here?"

     She shrugged.  "Acting out my fantasies, just like you.  Come, I
have to wash you."  Ally was dressed in a tight-fitting blue-black latex
one-piece and knee-high boots, which she was already in the process of
stripping them off as she spoke.

     "Do those ears really work?" I asked.

     "What, these?" she asked with that marvelous smile as she batted at
her ear with one hand.  A long time ago Ally and her sister had had what
been known as the Markal variation done to her ears: the outer ear is
removed, and ten centimeter tall rounded ears are molded to the top of
the head, much like a cat's or mouse's.  The middle ear is angled
appropriately.  Most of the work is done by AI directed nanotech.  It
only really looks good if the person having it done has a lot of hair.
Ally has a lot of hair.  I used to joke that among the things that are
bigger than they have to be (My ego, the Ring, ect...) Ally's hair was
definitely at the top.  It is enormous, a shocking white collection of
silky, almost flyaway hair that erupts about her head and shoulders and
falls down her back past her butt.  Her sister, Cynshia, has the same.

     "Yeah, those."

     "They work great.  And I like the way they look.  Come with me,"
she said, taking my hand and leading me towards the pool.  There is one
problem with all that hair; it hides her extremely attractive ass.  Ally
is a wasp-waisted and hard-bodied woman.  "In," she said.

     I stepped into the water, feeling it's warmth seep into me as I
settled into it.  She snapped her finger and we were joined by two other
slaves.  They placed the trays they carried next to her and disappeared
back into the shadows from which they came.

     She ordered me to get my hair wet, and proceeded to give me a
rather professional shampoo.  Her fingers caressing my scalp made me go
limp in all sorts if places, and I sat in the warm and circulating water
enjoying it all.  "Rinse."  I complied, and as I came up for air she
said, "Lay on your back, on this towel."  I stepped up and lay back as
she had ordered.  I felt her fingers spreading something warm and soapy
over my legs and crotch, and I felt my sex harden as she stroked around
it.  "Whatever you do, don't move."

     I blinked, wondering what she meant by that.  There was a touch at
my leg, just at the crotch, and I suddenly realized what she was doing.
"Ally?"

     "Don't move."  The cold touch slid down my leg and I heard her dunk
her hand in the water.  I picked up my head and saw what she held in her
hand- a straight razor.  I groaned aloud and closed my eyes.  "Ally..."
I said plaintively.

     "I have my orders, slave.  I am to shave you clean.  Now hush."

     She was quick and efficient, clearing off the insides and tops of
both thighs and calves without a nick, working her way down.  I'm going
to let you in a little secret; I have a phobia.  Extramanual Levophobia.
I'm terrified of knives, as long as they're in someone else hands.  I
can easily and comfortably handle knives, feel no fear in a museum full
of swords, but the sight of a butter knife in even P'nyssa's hands
terrifies me.  It has been long enough that I no longer have to leave
the room when I see a knife, but it's still frightening.  Lynn had to
have known that when she directed Ally to take a straight razor to my
privates.

     And Ally was much more careful there, pulling my sac tight and
slowly stroking the razor's blade over the skin.  Traveling with equal
care over my hardened cock, she gave my crotch close scrutiny as she
shaved, looking up into my fearful eyes once in a while.  It took every
vestige of my self-discipline to control myself, to keep from running
away.  I'm obeying, I'm obeying, was all I could think sometimes.
"Over," Ally said.

     I turned over and Ally took her razor to the backs of my thighs and
calves, and then I felt her fingers pry apart my buttocks and shave
clean the little pubic hairs that were there.  "Back," she said again,
and she moved down to my feet.  "You're a Hobbit, Ken," she said,
jokingly, shaving the rather thick hair which grew over my feet and
toes.

     I swallowed and said "I'm a little tall for one." She chuckled
softly, easing the soap into my other foot and shaving that one as well.
"In," she ordered.

     I jumped into the water and rinsed the shaving soap off of me.
Ally slid in next to me and began to lather my body, cleaning off my
chest and legs.  "Arm up," she said.  I raised my arm and with a few
frightening, flashing cuts I was denuded of hair.  "The other one," she
said, and when that was done she again ordered, "rinse."

     She picked up a small cloth and shook a light powder from a small
bottle onto it.  "Smile," she said.

     I complied.  She opened my mouth with her hand and pressed the
cloth to my teeth, polishing them with small circular motions.  It felt
strange to feel her manipulating me like that, but I let her; she was
under orders from my mistress.

     When she was done, she directed me out onto the marble floor, where
she dried me carefully with a large terrycloth towel, smiling all the
while as my cock throbbed and stuck out with frustration.  She knelt
down and picked up one more small bottle, pouring oil into her hand and
rubbing it into my skin, covering me with a glowing sheen.  The oil was
soothing to my newly shaven skin and I sighed.  She smiled a tight smile
and dripped some of the oil onto my cock, stroking the oil into the head
and soft, loose skin.  I knew she wasn't allowed to let me come, and the
knowledge and pleasure only fed my frustration.  And, despite that
knowledge, I still whimpered when she stopped.

     "Aww, poor little slave.  Can't stand to be teased."

     "Not by another slave," I hissed.

     Her hand flew, striking me hard across the cheek.  But her voice
was calm when she said "Shouldn't talk so impertinently.  Yes, I am a
slave, but you have orders to obey me.  Down!"

     I obeyed her order, the right side of my face burning with shame,
the left with her palm.  She snapped her fingers again and again a slave
brought her something.  She slowly combed my hair until it was to her
satisfaction, tying it in back with a leather tie, then knelt on the
floor and looked at my face, touching my eyebrows gently with a brush.
"Just a little silver glitter, Ken.  I think it looks so very sweet on
you."  Her ears twitched in time with her motions, I watched her as she
watched me.  She picked up a silver armband and slid it up my arm,
tightening it in place.  It was a simple silver band, imprinted with the
ring-and-star of Pendor and the phrase "Lynn's slave."

     Ally stood and stepped back, examining me.  "Excellent," she said.
She walked back to the doorway and returned with my leash, strapping the
collar around my neck.  "Open your mouth and hold this," she said,
holding the leather strap at the other end of the leash.  I bit down on
it and she smiled, satisfied.  "Go to the door and wait.  When your
mistress is ready for you, you will be told."  I crawled to the door she
had indicated and knelt in place.  There was one person already there, a
Felinzi male.  He looked marvelous.

     I waited.  After a while a third person joined us, and I looked
over to see Ally.  She smiled at me, a slightly sad expression to her
smile.  She, too, held her leash in her mouth.  I wonder if she had had
to put it on by herself.

     We were interrupted by a voice from outside.  A deep, masculine
voice said, "You are ready.  Good," and the Felinzi was led out.  I
never got to see who the Felinzi's master was.

     Time passed.  I winked over at Ally, who would sometimes sit in
melancholy silence.  Her expression bothered me a little.  Even in
Rhysh, or maybe especially here, even the slaves should be happy.

     "It's my last day," Ally whispered, reading my mind.  "My master,
Cedza, is leaving Rhysh tomorrow.  He doesn't want to play anymore."

     There was a silence for a while.  "I don't..."  She stopped.  "I
don't love him, but he has been so good to me.  I want to be his slave,
be good for him, and I feel like I'm failing because he's leaving.  I
liked being owned by him."

     I nodded in the semi-darkness of the alcove.  Sometimes, people
'break.'  They stop wanting the fantasy.  And they sometimes leave
behind a lot of hurt.  In Rhysh, sometimes our fantasies become enormous
structures of the mind, and a single missing pin can do a lot of damage.
We waited.

     The door opened after a little while longer and Lynn walked in,
looking down at me.  She took the leash from my mouth and said, "Now you 
look like a proper slave."  She led me out into the hall, and down
passageways again.

     We reached a large, oaken double-door, which parted as we
approached.  I recognized them as the doors that led to the dining hall
in which I had punished Kathy a few years back, and moaned in fear as we
entered.

     Lynn stopped suddenly, backed up and with a loud -SMACK- a sharp
slap across my backside echoed.  "Hush, slave," she said.  "I haven't
even touched you yet."

     There was a small contingent of people standing around, dining as
we entered, and she greeted them quietly.  There was a bit of
socializing go on as well as slave punishment.  I looked across the
floor and was surprised to see a Ssphynx restrained to the floor on the
far side of the room, his leonine half jutting under a wooden pillory
and his arms pinned to the arms of the 'X'.  A tall Tindal had a wide
whip in hand and was systematically whipping the Ssphynx.  The blows
made loud cracks echo across the room, and the expression the Ssphynx's
face was both pained and transcendent.  He looked beautiful as he hung
there.  Crack.  And again.  Every time his body would jerk, just a
little, and he would settle.  I was shocked to see little rivulets of
blood trickling over his fur; the sight of blood is usually a safesign,
but these two were going past that.  

     I lost count of the whips.  It seemed to go on forever, and I was
hyperventilating, breathing fast and hard and in sync with the suffering
of the Ssphynx.  He would open his eyes rarely, but once we locked eyes
and the smile on his lips told me that everything was okay.  Then the
whip came down again and he jerked back, eyes clamped shut.

     "That's a rare one, isn't it?" Lynn said, addressing me.

     "Yes, Mistress."

     Her fingers trailed along my backside, her sharp nails closing
around my testicles and pricking them oh, so gently.  "They did a good
job shaving you."

     She tugged on the leash again and I was led to a wide marble pillar
that was illuminated clearly by the sun streaming in from the huge
single-pane windows.  It was also warmed by that sun, and she pulled me
to feet and ordered me against it.  "Arms around."

     I complied, and felt fetters being secured around my wrists.  These
were pulled up and away from me, wrapping my arms around the pillar and
holding me against it.  My legs were pushed apart I was secured to the
pillar by those as well.  Off balance yet restrained, I waited.  "This
is a whipping hall, slave.  And now it's your turn."  She stood back and
I waited.  "No, wait," she said.

     There was a pause, and then she took a bit and secured it to my
mouth and tied it tightly in the back.  "Not interested in your
protestations, slave."  She stood away again.  The bit bit into the
corners of my mouth.  I sighed quietly.  "Let's see," she said.  There
was a whish through the air, and the wide strap she wielded came down on
my buttocks.  Hot pain spread across me, and the strap came down again.
The inflaming pain was more than I could bear, yet I thought to myself
that I will endure, I will take.  If not because I am a good slave, but
because Lynn is so dear to me.  I wanted her to push herself, and this
pushed me.

     The strap came down again, and again.  There was a voice in my ear;
I had lost track of reality as I was whipped, but I knew who this was:
the Ssphynx I had seen earlier.  "Enjoy it," he whispered.  The pain
flowed into me, and I could feel it wrapping itself around me, even to
parts pressed against the column.  My head spun as shock after shock
struck me, and the strap lowered to my thighs, pain streaking out of
there with crystal clarity.  Oh gods, it hurt, but I understood the
Ssphynx, as I only understood during punishment, the sole isolation of
pain, taking me further and further.  My body burned, tears flowed from
my eyes as I rested my head against the column, tension in every knotted
muscle, as the strap fell again and again, in unending torment.  Nobody
counted, nobody sought to stop her.  And as she pushed me, I knew she
could flay the flesh from my bones and I wouldn't have cared, lost as I
was in the release that punishment gives.

     But, mercifully, she didn't.  The blows stopped, and soft fingers
stroked something cooling onto my tortured flesh.  But it was only when
the fingers left me that I sagged away from the column.  I couldn't tell 
my condition, so utterly drained was I.

     I heard Lynn speaking, and the fetters were released.  I was
grabbed by strong arms and lowered to the floor.  Blinking and looking
up I could see Lynn and the Ssphynx standing over me.  "Rowan tells me
you've never been pushed so hard before, slave.  I'm proud of you.  You
did very well."

     Pleasure at my Mistress's satisfaction washed over me.  "Thank
you," I said hoarsely.

     "Thank you, what?"

     "Thank you, Mistress." I said.

     "Rest for a little while, and then we will go see this little show
Teela has told us about.  Although after watching you, I doubt anything
could thrill me as much."

     "Thank you, Mistress."  I lay, on my back, feeling the coolness of
the marble floor in the unlit corners of the room seeping through the
towel I lay upon and penetrating my tortured flesh.

     After a while, Lynn returned and tugged on my leash.  "Stand," she
said.  "Having you crawl is fun, but it also slow us, and we have a
sight to see."

     I walked three paces behind her, her short blond hair bouncing with
every step.  She was definitely enjoy her first days as an organic.
There was a spring in her step that radiated sheer pleasure, and I was
determined to be everything she wanted in a slave.

     We walked to the main hall, which had been re-lit with a baleful
yellow-golden color and at one end the throne had been elevated.  "Stand
back here," Lynn ordered.

     After a short while, a tall Markal wearing loose-fitting robes made
of gleaming black walked in imperiously, followed by three males in
tight-fitting leather bodystockings on each side.  He walked to the
throne and sat.  The scene unfolded as another contingent walked in from
the left, dragging an enormously muscled human, who was fighting and
kicking and roaring as they did, but since the four 'guards' were Uncia,
I doubted him much success.  He was hauled in front of the Markal, who
sat looking at the this scene with a touch of amusement.  Rising, the
Markal said, "So you are Debard.  They say you have yet to be broken,
although you came here as a slave."  Dane (the Markal) had a deep and
gravely voice, perfect for his role.

     "I am no one's slave," Debard answered, sweat or oil glistening off
his skin as he moved.  His hair was a long strand of gold down his back,
braided and falling.

     "Ah, but you are.  You are MINE!"  Dane's roar was wonderful.  "And
you will learn what it means to come to Rhysh as you did."  There was a
long pause.  Debard glanced left, then right.  He leapt for the stage.

     The four guards who had led him were more than ready.  They soon
had him back on the lowest step, struggling.  "Bind him," Dane said with
a throwaway gesture.

     Long, thick ropes were secured to Debard's wrists, and then to
rings set into posts placed in the Hall for just such a purpose.  "Now
then, Debard," Dane said, in the most off-hand voice I had ever heard,
"kneel."

     "I am nobody's slave, and I. Will. Not. Kneel."

     "YES, YOU WILL!" Dane roared.  "Yes, you will.  Or I shall wreak
unspeakable harm upon you."  The Markal gestured, and a slight wisp of a
femFelinz walked up behind Debard.  In her hand was a whip made of
something other than leather for it glowed oddly.  She pulled it back
and the glow grew brighter, erupting in a hot blue-white light.  The
whip surged into the air, and I marvelled at the gravitics necessary to
make it snake and slither like a living thing before the Felinz lashed
it in Debard's direction.  The whip came alive, aimed at its target with
all the accuracy of a sword, slashing hard across that beautifully
muscled back.  Dane watched, his eyes closing into tight slits, as the
whip came down again, leaving a bright and angry trail over Debard's
shoulder.

     The whip crackled and hummed in the air, growing louder and
brighter than ever with every stroke, as if it were feeding off its
target's suffering.  From where  I was I couldn't see Debard's face, and
I wondered at his strength.  The whip fell again, and a quick glance at
the room around me confirmed my thoughts.  I could feel the question in
the air... How far will he push it?  How much can he take?  Except I
knew the answer, as the room crackled and hummed with the whip's
electricity, the snap of flesh and the groans of the heroic victim.  The
answer was simple; he can take as much as he needs.

     Dane sat down, leaning over slightly in the chair and resting his
arm on his knee, cupping his chin in hand.  A small smile played across
his face, but every time the femFel brought the whip down a shot of fear
ran through those eyes, a little quiver wracked that body.   

     The whipping went on and on, and I began to feel the tip of the
whip inside me, touching me as I fell into Debard's pain as I had the
Ssphynx's earlier.  Finally, after it had gone for so long that I had
lost count and track, Debard fell to his knees, head down.  Despite the
length of the punishment, no one had left; the scene held an intensity
all its own.

     "Enough," Dane said, barely whispering.  The femFel stopped, and
the whip dimmed to a dull grey, falling to the floor, slithering against
the stone, unwilling to cease.  Dane rose from the throne and stood in
front of Debard, saying "Your strength lasts only so long, my love."

     "Yes, master," Debard answered, each syllable forming around a deep
breath of pain.

     "You are my slave.  You understand that."

     "I... I do.  Forgive me."

     "There is nothing to forgive.  You have learned."  Dane knelt in
front of his plaything and kissed him on the forehead.  "We should
return to our home.  Come."  He walked slowly, exiting, stage right.
Debard took a few careful crawls in the same direction, then collapsed.

     Dane turned, his look one of concern.  He turned to the guard
closest to himself and said, "Have his wounds bound, and washed.  Then,
bring him to me."  The guard nodded and all ten moved to lift Debard,
carrying him down the center aisle to the medical center.

     I shivered.  Despite my whipping earlier, the last scene had been
more than anything I'd experienced yet.  I hurt just from the empathy in
the room.

     "Mistress Lynn," came a voice from behind us that I recognized
immediately.  It was not my place to turn, so I did not.  But Lynn
responded naturally, turning and addressing the man behind me.

     "Master Borodir," she said gently.  "Quite a scene, wouldn't you
agree."

     "Frightening," Borodir responded.

     "Why so?"

     "Because I have excellent knowledge that Debard was not given a
safeword, Lynn.  That is... discomfitting."  Borodir has a deep and
soothing voice, the sort usually reserved for the hero.  Or the villain.

     "Some couples no longer need them, Borodir.  And as I was mistress
of this castle, I know how that sort of thing feels.  Debard was as safe
as a child in his mother's arms, if not as comfortable."

     "As you say," Borodir intoned.  "I have a request of you."

     "Ask away."

     "Your pet for this evening and mine have a long standing rivalry
going.  I was wondering if I could borrow yours."

     "By all means," she said, tugging on my leash gently.  I turned and
the two of them led me to another of the columns scattered about the
room and being used for a variety of purposes.  Tied to it was a very
muscular Mephit, his tall black tail squashed against the post, his
usually beautiful fur matted with sweat and oil.  I didn't need to
guess; he'd been at the party last night.  And the look in his rather
dazed eyes told me he recognized me as well.  "Kneel," Borodir said.

     I complied, and he walked me slowly in front of Aaden.  "Your task,
old slave, is to keep his sex hard.  He has been frustrated all day, and
his strength is ebbing.  Amuse us.  But if he comes you will both pay.
And do not use your hands."

     I nodded; the instructions were clear.  I leaned up against Aaden's
large, uncircumsized cock and its soft sheath covered with a gentle
smattering of fur.  I bit at the sheath gently, clamping down tightly
with my lips, getting fur on my tongue as I stroked his cock through it.
Slowly I felt Aaden's heartbeat in his body grow stronger, pulsing
softly as I coaxed him further along.  After a while his cock was just
slightly hard enough that I could push the covering down with my lips
and expose the head; taking it into my mouth and licking it intently.
Aaden groaned in frustration.  I began to take care, sucking him gently
and softly, trying hard not to give in to the impulse to push.

     Dammit, this was dirty pool!  I like sucking cock.  I've an oral
fixation a terr wide; I chew pencils to death.  The feel of having cock
in my mouth, stroking and caressing and tasting it overwhelms me.
Having to control myself was just damned unfair!  And despite my rivalry
with Aaden, I like him.  I like him a lot.  Being asked to torture him
like this was only more torture for me.

     Oh, but that only proves that both Lynn and Borodir understand me
all too well.  I tried to follow their instructions, and as my mouth and
jaw tired, I nuzzled Aaden's balls softly, trying to brush against him
and reassure him, the frustration of not being allowed to exercise
either mine or his pleasure bringing tears to my eyes again.  But as his
erection sagged again, I returned to his cock, unmindful of the events
around me, uncaring if Borodir or Lynn watched, trying to be a good
slave to both my Mistress and former Master, trying to be a good friend
to Aaden.  It hurt, oh Gods it hurt; more than last night's utilitarian
abuses, more than today's whipping, this hurt.

     "Stop," Lynn said.  I sagged back onto the floor, my face wet with
crying, my chin dripping with tears and saliva.  The few early drippings
from Aaden's penis were sweet salt on my tongue, and I craved more.
Aaden was limp against his restraints, drained of all strength.  Borodir
eased him out of those restraints and into a large, overstuffed chair
that had been set nearby.  "Crawl to him," Lynn ordered.

     I obeyed, crawling towards Aaden, who lay limp and exhausted in the
chair.  "Put your head in his lap."  I groaned quietly.  Please, I
thought, no more.  Despite the thought, I had no desire to see it end,
no desire to use my safesign.  "Arch your back, slave," Lynn ordered.

     I thought that an odd command, but I complied nonetheless, arching
my back.  There was a cool sensation at my anus, and Lynn said, "Let's
see how this is done."  I felt her get between my legs, and the cold
sensation of a dildo being pressed against my tiny asshole.  If it
hadn't been for the cold, it would have slid in easily, but this took a
little effort.  It finally slid in, the head a thick, flared oval that
stroked and caressed the lining of my rectum as it slid into my depths.
Then I felt someone's skin against the back of my legs, and realized
that Lynn was wearing that dildo.  She was fucking me with it, and not
gently either, as she plumbed my depths forcefully, fucking me with her
artificial cock.  I rested my head in Aaden's lap, pushed against his
belly with every thrust, luxuriating in the soft wonder of his fur as
Lynn raped me, his hand gently caressing my hair.  I closed my eyes and
wrapped my arms around his midsection, holding onto him, feeling his
warmth as she fucked me.  Borodir walked to the side of the chair and
whispered into my ear, "He may come, now."

     I looked up him, his image bobbing back and forth as Lynn grabbed
my hips and began shoving harder.  I nodded and buried my head into
Aaden's crotch, taking his much-abused cock into my mouth and stroking
it harder, letting Lynn's momentum carry me back and forth as the smooth
shaft of Aaden's penis slid into my throat.  The pleasure I felt at
being allowed this treasure was so immense I lost all track of myself,
losing even the will to breathe against the force of Lynn's poundings
and the taste of Aaden's growing cock against my tongue, my lips gliding
across soft flesh until they touched softer fur, his body tensing,
tensing, his grip on my head firm and insistent.

     Lynn's pounding grew stronger, and I wondered what she sought, but
then I realized what; Aaden's pleasure.  I redoubled my efforts,
stroking him, adding my strength to every push and pull of Lynn's dildo.
Between two shafts, at the center of a universe only I could feel, being
ravished from behind and putting my all into the friend/enemy/lover/
slave before me, his body growing more tense, his claws digging into my
hair, and he finally came, screaming, roaring, clawing and quaking with
release, rising from the chair and pushing me into his lap, his cock
going deeper into my throat, my throat swallowing, gulping, taking his
seed.  Yes!

     And then it was over.  Lynn was no longer within me, and Aaden
sagged back into the chair, collapsing, now truly exhausted.  My last
remaining strength ebbed away and I collapsed onto the floor, my head
still in Aaden's soft lap, and I smiled gently as I realized that his
cock was still in my mouth.  I lay there, trying not to nurse on it, and
finally moved my head away from his cock slightly, knowing how sensitive
he must be.  Lynn reached down and stroked my hair.  "You have done
well, slave," she said gently.  "I have one last thing to ask of you."

     I waited.  "Stand," she said.  It took some doing, but I finally
managed to get to my feet.  "Come with me."  Her voice had the sound of
request rather than command, a voice that made me intensely curious.  I
felt saddened that I was leaving Aaden behind, but I was sure he would
be well cared for.  As Borodir had cared for me.  

      She led me down hallways to a residential section of the castle,
opening one of the door and leading me into a large but spartan bedroom.
There was one large mirror on the wall to my left, a huge four-post bed
on a rug, and a dresser in a corner.  Other than that, it was the bare
slate-grey stone of the castle.  Two bright lantern burned on opposite
walls.

     Lynn turned around and reached up, unclasping my collar and casting
it onto the dresser, then easing the armband from around my bicep.
"Undress me," she said.

     I gestured imploringly for her to turn around, and she did.  I
pulled on the knot of her dress, unlacing the bodice that restrained
her, then pulling the laces all the way down.  The dress fell about her,
and underneath Lynn had had the common sense to wear more practical
clothes.  Image was important for her, not historical accuracy.

     In a very short time I had her completely undressed, and she was
quiet as I worked, stepping when I asked her to.  When I was done I
stood in front of her and waited.

     "You don't have to call me 'Mistress,' Ken.  In here, let's just be
Ken and Lynn."

     I shook my head slightly, just to clear it, and said, "Okay."

     Lynn turned slightly and walked to the bed, sitting on it.  Her
gengineers had given her a cute ass.  "Come here?"  I joined her on the
bed, pulling one of the pillows into my lap out of habit.  She took a
deep breath and said, "She said I shouldn't mention her when I did this,
but it is her advice.  I've been mistress of Rhysh for over half a
millenia, and I know everything there is to know about sex, about pain,
about dominance and about submission.  I've watched you and two million
other go through these walls, and most stayed for less than a whole day,
while some, like you, stayed for a while, and some, like Borodir, can
come and go at will.  For them, like me, Rhysh is home.  And when I was
an AI, I could not understand why some AIs chose to give up all that
strength and speed to be human, or Tindal, or whatever.  To be fragile.

     "Today I played the role of mistress, and I found I could do it; I
could judge you, feel you, know what was right for you and what was
wrong, even though I pushed you beyond your previous limits.  Maybe
someday I too will play the slave.

     "But I've always been a mistress, and a servant, giving orders to
keep the illusion going and taking orders to fulfill a fantasy.

     "I don't know if I'm making sense, but it all reduces to this: I do
not have the... piece of flesh that makes it official; my doctors took
care of that, but in this, my body, I'm still a virgin.  I want you to
change that."

     I had a feeling that was coming.  I nodded, not saying a word, and
crawled easily to the front of the bed, pulling aside the covers.  "Join
me, Lynn."

     She crawled over next to me, settling next to me.  I leaned
forward, and pressed my lips to hers.  Her kiss back was awkward and
unpracticed, but she tried, and after a few seconds it became a warm and
familiar kiss.  We separated and I said, "How was that?"

     "Nice," she breathed huskily.

     I laughed quietly and leaned over, taking a breast in hand and
holding the nipple up, lowering my mouth to it and sucking gently,
circling her areola with my tongue.  Her arms wrapped tight about my
head, then loosened.  You've got a lot to learn, I thought.  I pushed
against her belly with my hand, pushing her down to the bed, kissing her
belly as I passed my hand.  "Do you want me to eat you?" I asked.

     "Yes," she said.

     "Yes, what?" I asked, mischeviously.

     "Yes, father."  THAT was NOT the answer I had been expecting, but
it would do.  I dove into her pubic bush, licking the thin blond hairs
and pushing them out of the way, spreading her lips with my hands,
sliding my tongue about her cunt.  Avoiding the top, diving down to her
vaginal opening and down lower, getting a few soft licks at her anus,
just barely in reach between her gorgeous cheeks.  She moaned and
twisted on the bed, and as I worked my way around and around her cunt
she groaned and panted.

     I slid my tongue over her clitoris, and a new chorus of moans
escaped her as I did.  Her body wracked in near-instantaneous orgasm,
and she shuddered violently as I licked her.  "Stop... Please," she
begged after a few seconds of this.  "I can't take that.  It's so... so
much, too much.  Please!"  I finally relented as her hands tore at my
hair, imploring me away from her sweet cunny.

     My cock was standing straight up, against my belly, as I crawled up
to her face, kissing her.  She looked up at me and said, "I'm ready."

     "Are you?"

     "Yes."  She rose to a kneeling position and crawled over to me.
She pushed me back until I was sitting on my heels.  She spread her
thighs wide, encompassing me, pointing my cock into her cunt.  I looked
up at her as she put her hands on my shoulders, my cock poised at the
entrance to her womanhood.  She closed her eyes.  I put my hands around
her waist and guided her downward, my cock sliding into her with almost
no resistance.  She sighed.

     Her eyes fluttered open and she looked down at me.  "It's...
interesting."

     I laughed.  "Interesting?" I asked, incredulous.  "Is that all?"

     "Feels good," she sighed again, her eyelid closing slightly.  I
slid my hands down to her ass and squeezed them gently, feeling their
firmness.  She laughed a little.  I used the position to gain some
forward leverage, and pushed hard.  We fell over, down onto the bed, her
on her back, me on top.

     Her face wasn't afraid; she smiled, in fact.  "Do it," she said.
"Fuck me, Ken.  Just like Ember said you would."

     I laughed with her as I began stroking in and out of her.  Am I
that predictable?  Ember; It figured.  My cock was hard and insistent,
taking her pleasure as she gave it.  Her hands roamed over her bosom and
down between her legs; I could feel her fingers against my pubic bone as
she slid wet fingers over her clitoris.

     The pains of the day vanished, and only little hints of Ally's
teasing and Aaden's pleasure remained, making me smile more as I made
love to Lynn, going deeper and faster, listening to her moan in pleasure
as I got closer and closer, and when I came it was strong and silent
thing, shuddering and kissing her.

     I rose from her and looked down.  Our eyes locked for a moment, and
then we began laughing uncontrollably again.  I rolled off of her and
cuddled up again, putting my leg over hers and my arm across her
breasts, lying my head on her shoulder.  "How was that?"

     "It was... interesting."

     "Interesting?  Is that all?" I asked in mock suffering.

     "I loved it and you know it, silly Shardik."

     "Ember, huh?"

     "I asked, she gave me that answer.  'Go to Ken.'"  We both laughed.

     "That's the second time that's happened to me."

     "What, virgin sacrifices, or people coming...er... going to you on
her advice?"

     "People coming to me on her advice."

     "You're not going to be mad at her, are you?" Lynn asked,
concerned.

     "No, I'm not going to be mad at her.  It's okay."

     "Do you want to go to bed?"

     "It's kind of early, isn't it?"

     "You slept late.  I didn't take a noon nap, either.  I'm very
tired."

     "And I can't leave because technically, I'm still your slave."

     "Oh, be serious.  I could have Rowan bring you change of clothing.
But I want you stay.  Please?"  The look in her eyes would have put a
puppy to shame.

     "I will," I said, pulling the covers over us.

     "Rowan, turn the lights down."  The 'lanterns' faded into darkness.

     "Good night, sister," said Rowan's voice from the walls.  "And you,
too, Ken."

     "G'night, Rowan."

--
"A Day At Castle Rhysh"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1990 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.
-- 
 __   Eagles soar, but weasels never get sucked into jet engines.   __
 \/                                                                 \/
                            Elf Sternberg
    elf@halcyon.com    elf%polari@uunet.uu.net   elf@seanews.wa.com