The Collar Of Ambuchar -- by Master Ivan

[mrivan]

The Collar Of Ambuchar


The dig was proceeding well. Over the past three months, they had uncovered a small village buried beneath the Sinai desert, apparently from the era of the early pharaohs of Egypt. While the village was not uncommon, the princely tomb was a surprise.

Dr. Michael Tolson had predicted the village might be found there, on the basis of nearby roads and the existence of a small Red Sea port only a few miles west. He had been glowing with pride since the discovery, now assured of a tenure with the university which financed the dig. And now, with the new and unforeseen appearance of the tomb, he realized how much more significant the dig had become. Today, he and his wife-to-be would open and enter the tomb.

Ellen Cramer loved Michael with all her heart and soul. They shared professional skills as well as their personal lives. Her age of twenty-nine complimented his of thirty-three nicely, and their careers fit together as perfectly as their bodies.

"I'm excited, Michael! Every turn we take with this dig produces more surprises, and I wonder what we'll find in the tomb!"

"Who knows! There'll probably be the typical burial relics, but so far, none of this fits the usual mold. Something really strange is happening in this place, and I want to get to the bottom of it!"

By mid-day, the tomb had been opened without incident. Within a few hours, the initial photographs had been taken and the contents had been inventoried and cataloged. When darkness fell, Michael and Ellen had gone through most of the inscriptions on the walls and artifacts, and they continued to be absorbed in their work.

"This doesn't make sense, Ellen."

"What?"

"Half of this writing doesn't belong here. You've got the usual hieroglyphics, plus an assortment of the local languages covering everything from Coptic to Arabic, even Aramaic. But the dialects cover a span of over four thousand years!"

"That's amazing!"

"And that's not all. Some of it comes from as far away as India. This line here, for example, was used by the ancient Thuggee sect."

"Can you read it?"

"I think so, just barely. It says, 'Beneath the Jewel of the Lotus is concealed a gift of evil to please the high priest.' I don't understand. There aren't any jewels, or flowers for that matter."

Ellen thought, then said, "In Eastern sects, the Jewel of the Lotus was an energy chakra believed to be located several inches above the top of the head. I want to examine the crypt again. . . "

She went to the head of the mummified occupant of the tomb and used a small brush to remove the dust. She discovered a small button. "Michael, look at this!"

As he approached, she pressed the button. A catch was released, and a small door popped open under the head of the mummy at floor level. Michael reached in and pulled out a small box.

They looked at it together. Bound in leather and iron, it was inscribed with the most ancient script yet discovered in the tomb.

"Its late, Ellen. Let's go back to the tent. I'll need my books, anyway, to translate this!"

An hour later, Michael read it to Ellen. It was short and sweet. "'The Collar of Ambuchar binds its wearer to the heart of the Master.'"

Ellen smiled, mischievously. "Well, that sounds kinky."

Michael smiled back. "Let 's open the box!"

Inside were three items. First, there was a leather collar, trimmed with inlaid brass. Its inscription read, "When locked about the throat, the wearer is bound to the heart of he who closes the lock, third time forever."

There was a heavy, equally ornate padlock. And a large key. Both were inscribed in the same style.

"What's that God, Michael? I've never heard of it before."

He paused . "I can't find much about it. He's the deity for a very obscure sect, very ancient, not taken from either the Muslim precursors or the Hindus, but with ties to both. What little I can find out suggests he's more demon than God. He apparently advocates, among other things, the total enslavement of women."

Michael looked into Ellen's eyes. She found it all romantic, perhaps a bit bizarre. She was also getting visibly aroused by it all, in a way he had not seen before.

"Wanna try it on, Ellen?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Obviously, the fantasy appealed to her. Still, "What do we do if it works?"

Michael smiled lasciviously. "I suppose, anything I want!" He looked now at Ellen's body. She wore only a tight tee-shirt, torn in a couple of well-chosen places at the sides of her breasts. Her lower body was covered only by a pair of harem pants, loose fitting, but of a material that revealed her in detail when she moved. And now, she smiled and moved to her knees beside the seated Michael.

"I guess I'll be completely at your mercy!"

She smiled, tilted her head back, then closed her eyes.

Michael picked up the collar. He unlatched the catch easily, noting that it appeared almost new, unusual for an artifact several thousand years old. He latched it around Ellen's neck, then took the padlock in hand.

"Feel anything yet?"

Ellen smiled. "Only how much I want you."

As a precaution, he carefully pocketed the ornate key. Then, with a meaningful pause, he fitted the lock in place and snapped it shut.

Immediately, the collar glowed briefly, emitting a red tinted light. It faded quickly, but was replaced by a strong tingling in them both that started in their fingers and toes and ended in their genitals.

Michael felt the fantasies first. All those moments of fantasy he had ever experienced now played themselves back in his head in seconds. In the past, he was careful to separate that which was possible and practical from that which would forever remain fantasy. Making love in a park was quite acceptable; they had done so many times. Whipping her, raping her in all three of her openings, such things were not done to a lover. Now, however, such thoughts not only appeared proper, but he felt Ellen herself feeling a desire for them, wanting them, needing them.

Ellen, kneeling and collared, found the changes much more dramatic. She felt not her own fantasies, but Michael's. All of them, even those she found frightening or far beyond her ordinary tolerances, became her own needs. More than needs, they became desperate desires, creating an arousal and a hunger which could only be relieved by submitting completely to all of Michael's desires.

Finally, one fantasy floated to the top in Michael's mind. In it, he tore off Ellen's clothes, tied her hands brutally behind her back, whipped her, then fucked her ass. Now, there was no fear that it would hurt Ellen. And she herself felt the fantasy as well. To his shock, Ellen spun around, crossed her wrists behind her back, and begged, "Please, Michael, tie my hands, whip me, then fuck my ass!"

She showed both the shock at her own request and the fear of the acts she proposed. She also showed her desperate hunger for those acts.

Michael chose to play out the game. He found a length of harsh, sisal rope nearby and quickly lashed together her crossed wrists. He literally tore the shirt and pants from her body, then looked at her nakedness. The thought occurred to him that it would be most enjoyable to have her suck his cock into her throat before he beat her. To the shock of them both, Ellen again rose to her knees and began kissing his cock through his pants. She pleaded, "Please Master, let me suck you!"

In the past, she rarely sucked him, never deep throating him. Now, he penetrated her throat easily on every stroke. She did gag a bit, hut it did not interfere in her performance in any way; rather, it enhanced the grip of her throat around his manhood. He found himself enjoying it immensely.

Close to orgasm now, he thought of stopping her. Instantly, she pulled her mouth off of him and turned, still kneeling, to point her ass towards him, her knees widely spread, her breasts and the right side of her face upon the dirt. "Please Master, I need to be punished!"

The thought occurred to Michael that she was correct. She had become a wanton slut and a whore, and she had failed utterly to please him in the past. Now, she must pay the price.

He removed his caisson belt and stood to one side. For a moment, he recalled playfully spanking her a few times in the past, but always found her ass quite sensitive. Now, he wound up the belt with the full strength of his arm and struck.

Her scream was loud, genuine, reflecting the great pain she felt from the stroke. Nevertheless, even as every muscle in her body flexed in response, she held her position, inviting more. He could see she felt the same pain she would ordinarily feel under the circumstances. The change was in her emotional willingness to suffer and the continued arousal it caused her. So he kept on lashing her ass, for ten, fifteen, a full twenty strokes, before he cast the belt aside.

The welts rose quickly, one for every stroke. She cried with the pain, yet she remained kneeling, moaning her need. Finally, she begged, "Please Master, fuck my ass!"

Again, her plea matched his own fantasy. He knew she had a virgin ass, and she would suffer more pain when he drove into her tightest opening. Still, considering how she reacted to a fairly severe lashing, he moved confidently, driving deep into her ass on his first stroke.

Again, she screamed deep and loud, while her heat rose ever higher. Michael gripped the rope still binding her wrists behind her back, using it as a handhold to increase the force of his thrusts into her. Some minutes later, he imagined the unlikely possibility of her coming to orgasm with him, while bound, welted and being ass-fucked. Incredibly, she went into orgasm, and he followed seconds later.

He collapsed onto his back, spent. With his eyes closed, he imagined Ellen crawling to him on her knees, still bound, to clean his soiled cock with her mouth. Indeed, as the thought occurred, he did feel her lips upon his cock, as her tongue gently laved the head, soothing him as she cleaned him.

He was in euphoria. As long as Ellen did not complain, he could continue this forever. Laying on his sleeping bag, he looked up, noticing the heavy wooden pole crossing the top of the tent. He visualized her hanging from it by her bound wrists.

She had been in motion towards him again, but quickly stopped. She stood beneath the pole, on tip-toe, and said, "Master, if you bound me to the pole by my wrists, you could enjoy the sight of me as you rested."

Minutes later, she hung by her wrists, clothed only in the ropes and the collar. She supported a bit of her weight by her toes, but her heels could not find the ground. She moaned quietly in discomfort, covered with sweat, still in heat. Michael smiled at her, closed his eyes, and slept.

He awoke several hours later. Ellen still hung naked by her bound wrists, her toes just grazing the dirt beneath her. She was clearly exhausted, and she moaned, suffering. The image stimulated him again, as he flashed briefly on the thought of flogging her as she hung, in the midst of her exhaustion. The fantasy was a powerful one, hard to resist. It became even more powerful when she opened her eyes and said, "Master, did you want to whip me again? I'm sure it would hurt gloriously as I hung here for your pleasure."

With significant effort, he resisted the urge. He untied her wrists, massaging them to restore her circulation. He could tell the rope marks on them, as well as the vivid welts on her ass, would last for days. As she kissed his feet in abject submission, he retrieved the key to her collar and unlocked it.

Again, there was the brief glow and the tingling in their flesh as the collar was removed. Instantly, Ellen felt the residual pain in her wrists, her welted and penetrated ass, and in her joints. Now, though, the collar did nothing to influence either of them. She felt shocked at her actions, and Michael felt a momentary burst of guilt.

They embraced, lovers again, consoling each other.

"It really happened, Michael, didn't it."

''Yes, it did. What came over us?"

"I don't know. While the collar was on, I felt your every desire. All of them turned me on like a firecracker, especially the brutal or degrading ones, and I couldn't conceive of doing anything other than being your total slave. I loved it all, and I didn't want it to stop."

Michael was equally amazed. "I saw it happening. Somehow, as soon as a fantasy occurred to me, you would beg me to enact it on you. And like you, the more brutal or degrading it was, the more it turned me on, and the more it drew me like a magnet.

They were silent for a moment. Then, Ellen broke the silence. "Do you know what amazes me more than anything, Michael?"

"What?"

"If you wanted to lock the collar on me again, I think I would like it!"

Michael looked down at the collar, in thought. "It's dangerous, Ellen. Who knows if either of us would be able to stop."

They embraced together in the sleeping bag. "This has to be kept a secret, Ellen. Don't tell a soul, not anyone! We'll have to consider this thing carefully, research it completely before we even show it to anyone."

"I agree."

The collar, lock and key were returned to the box, and the box hidden in the bottom of a knapsack. They did not even speak of it for several days.

* * *

Michael and Ellen awoke one morning to find a tear in the side of their tent. To their shock, the knapsack was similarly torn open. The box was gone.

"Michael, what should we do?"

"I'm not sure, Ellen. But I'm going to call the entire party together and ask some questions!"

The camp was roused and assembled, questions asked. No answers were forthcoming. The box remained missing. Watches were posted, day and night. For several days, nothing happened.

Then, one night, as Michael slept, Ellen left the tent to use the latrine, dressed only in a flimsy nightshirt. A cloth was forced over her face, and she fell unconscious.

* * *

She awoke in a small hut, her wrists bound behind her back. A guard was posted at the door. Seeing her awakened, the guard came to her and blindfolded her. He then called out to his cohorts.

Ellen was terrified. She was already bound and helpless, and her sight was taken from her. The nightshirt she wore was little protection for her nakedness; it was transparent enough to reveal her aureoles and pubic hair when it hung against her. She realized herself a captive of some renegade locals. As a western woman, she would find little sympathy from her captors, anyway. As a kidnapped white woman, deep in the Sinai, far from what little governmental authority existed, certainly far from any hint of western morality, she knew there were few limits on what could happen to her.

She was dragged out of the hut by two strong men, out to the middle of a boisterous crowd. When her blindfold was removed, she found herself on a platform, surrounded by at least a hundred people. Facing her, there stood a man who put terror into her heart.

He was far beyond a tribal chief, a clan leader or a shaman. At the very least, he was a high priest. His garb was not typical of either the African jungle or the Arabian desert. What little she recognized reminded her of the ancient Zoroastrians, or perhaps a corruption of the Parsees. Whatever he was, the sect was clearly a renegade group, ancient and obviously dangerous.

He began speaking, in a loud, clear voice, reciting a litany in a language probably not spoken anywhere else on earth. Just the tone of it made it clear to her that her fate would get much worse before it got better. He frequently gestured toward her in anger, or exhorted the crowd to cheers. Finally, his speech finished, he barked out some commands, setting her two guards into motion.

Ellen was flanked by two posts, some four feet apart, about six feet high. Her wrists were freed, then quickly bound to the tops of the posts. Her ankles, too, were roped, spread wide, nearly to the base of the posts. She realized, with a wave of humiliation, that the spreading of her legs not only forced her to her toes, but caused the skirt of her nightdress to ride up almost to the top of her thighs.

Seconds later, the priest did something to cause all her other fears to pale into insignificance. He opened a cloth bag and withdrew the Collar of Ambuchar.

"Oh God, no-o-o!"

He smiled at her. The surrounding throng cheered. All of them knew the power of the Collar. And now, they all knew that she also knew. She would wear the Collar and would soon beg for everything they wanted to do to her.

The priest spoke again, and the crowd again broke into an unabashed cheer. He then came to Ellen and closed the Collar around her neck. As he raised his hand to attach the lock, she saw the key, hanging from the priest's neck by a leather thong. With her last moment of free will, she cried out, "Michael - ple-e-ease!"

He snapped the padlock shut, uttering a mystical phrase in the alien tongue as he did so. Again, she felt the familiar tingle, but now it was much more powerful. The glow of light was there also, but now, it encompassed the entire platform upon which she was bound.

Now, her will was gone. And now, for the first time, the priest spoke to her in her own English.

"Beg me to reveal your body for the enjoyment of the people!"

She could not resist. She could not even imagine the thought of resistance. In a loud voice, she cried out, "Please, Master, strip me naked so your people may enjoy the sight of my body!"

The crowd cheered again. She felt their thoughts within her, knowing now that they also understood her English.

The priest hooked his hand in the top of her nightdress and, with his slow but forceful strength, brutally tore it from her body, leaving her naked, bound, totally exposed.

Now, the priest simply stood and looked at her. She was bound to his very will, and would lead the remainder of her ordeal herself. She found herself speaking her own part in the ritual, without prompting, nevertheless feeling both the humiliation and the growing arousal generated by each stage.

"Please, Master, as an invading white woman, I am not yet naked enough for your use. Please shave the hair from my cunt!"

Two women approached her. One carried a bowl of water and a cloth, the other a straight razor. Quickly and efficiently, they shaved her cunt totally clean. Her arousal continued to build throughout this intimate contact, and she knew her cunt could now he clearly seen by all as it opened and began to juice up.

Again, her own voice led the way. "Please, Master, I must now be severely punished for trespassing upon your land, for disturbing your dead, for defiling your holy burial sites and for the theft of the very relic I wear around my throat. Please, Master, bring forth the whips, so that I may be given pain severe enough to atone for my sins!"

The whips each consisted of soft leather, three long lashes on each one attached to a two-foot-long wooden handle. They would mark her well, and she would scream for their entertainment. One man stood in front of her, the other behind.

The man in front of her swung first, leaving a swath of vivid welts across Ellen's out-thrust breasts. As her scream began, the whip behind her cut into her ass. The strokes continued, marking her entire body from shoulders to knees, front and rear. Through it all, she screamed at every stroke, yet she found the strokes arousing her with equal strength. Even in the midst of the torture, she wanted only for the pain to continue, for those punishing her to be pleased by her suffering.

They did continue, until her body was thoroughly marked. Even then they did not stop, but began lashing at her opened cunt and ass from both sides. Her screams were strengthened as her pain load grew. And now, under the spell of the Collar, the pain fed her arousal to new heights.

The whips stopped. The High Priest stood before her, his robe parted, revealing a cock of truly immense proportions. Ellen found herself speaking again, leading her ritual rape and torture to a new stage.

"Please Master, continue my punishment by using me for your pleasure. Since fucking my cunt would grant me more pleasure than I deserve, I beg you, please fuck me in the ass!"

The entire throng heard her voice and cheered. Happy to cooperate, the High Priest moved behind her and used his hands to spread her already opened ass cheeks still further apart. Then, lining himself up, he thrust into her with all his strength, burying himself in her ass completely on the first stroke.

Now, her screams were louder than ever. The pain was terrible, but to her shock, she found herself responding sexually to her anal rape in spite of the pain. Within minutes, she was driven to a shattering orgasm. In the midst of renewed cheers from their audience, the High Priest had his own orgasm, emptying himself into her bowels.

She hung limp in her bonds. Still, as soon as the High Priest pulled out, she cried out, "Please, more! I must be punished by all your cocks! Take revenge, and fuck me two at a time!"

There was a High Council of twelve who held authority under the High Priest. They lined up at her front and rear. As Ellen reeled in horror at the imminent continuation of her rape, her mind still followed the dictates of the High Priest, who stood nearby smiling. All she could do was to cry out, "Please, fuck me!"

They did. All twelve of them in turn, six in her cunt and six more in her already ravaged ass. She was brought to orgasm by them all and continued to beg for more. Even during the rapes, they continued to whip her, now with whips of silk which could torture without the risk of drawing blood.

With the priests served, her ordeal moved on to the next stage. Her voice again led the way, although she did not understand her own words.

"Please Masters, I have taken too much pleasure while being fucked. I must be truly tortured. Please mark me, then use me in a way that will bring pleasure to those I have harmed, while bringing me only pain!"

While she hung in her bonds, a man approached her bearing some small metal objects. She begged, "Please Master, pierce my nipples, so they may bring me the pain I deserve, without pleasure!"

The man advanced on her, and used a sharpened rod much like a knitting needle to thrust a hole through the base of each nipple. As she was pierced the first time, her cries rang out anew, loud enough to be heard clearly for a great distance, even over the din of the crowd. Soon, the procedure was repeated on her second breast. When he finished, she bore a heavy ring in each nipple, heavy enough to pull the entire breast down visibly. Her every movement would cause them to swing, and she would feel their weight constantly.

Her unwilling litany continued: "Please Master, I have taken pleasure from my cunt, when I deserve only pain and punishment. Please seal my cunt closed so I may be denied pleasure while my punishment continues!"

This time, small wires were used. Her fully exposed, shaven and open cuntlips were pierced by the wire, and the loops were tightened, sealing her cuntlips closed. A full seven of the wire loops were used, piercing each cuntlip seven times. The loops were tightened in a way which left the wire ends hidden beneath her labia, adding to her already substantial pain. As with the piercing of her nipples, she continued to scream with each new penetration, while her arousal, fueled by the spell of the Collar and now denied by her sealed cunt, rose ever higher.

"Please Masters," she began again. "...place me in the pit of pain and shame, where I may pay the remainder of my debt to the entire tribe!"

Her wrists were briefly freed, then rebound tightly, crossed behind her back. Her ankles were cut loose, then she was carried, with her legs spread wide, in a large circle about the entire village. All the people touched her body, especially her breasts and cunt, sustaining and increasing her arousal and her shame. Ellen herself felt it all: the pain, the shame, the arousal and the denial; none of them were blocked by the collar. Still, her will was lost to her. She found any thoughts of resistance quickly replaced by the irrepressible desire to submit to the will of the High Priest, who held the key.

It was a shallow pit, barely four feet deep and two feet in diameter. It was ringed by bricks and had an iron bar crossing its top, about an inch in diameter. As she was carried towards the pit, she noticed the bar was dotted with small, conical points.

They lowered her into the pit feet-first, straddling the bar. As her pussy came to rest upon the bar, she screamed again, in new agony that could only grow worse with time. Within her mind, she found herself saying, "Yes, yes! I need the pain, I must pay for my sins against the God and his people!" And with every motion of her body, the pain got worse.

One young man, almost a boy, slipped into the pit to bind her ankles together. After he cinched them painfully tight, he used another short length of rope to pull them down hard towards an eyebolt in the center of the pit floor. As he tightened that rope, the pain in Ellen's cunt rose to yet another new level.

He left the pit. Two others holding the silken whips stood readily at hand. The people of the village began to line up at her front, both men and women. Her voice spoke out once more.

"Please Masters, I have begun the ordeal of pain. While you continue to whip my flesh, please shame me by using my mouth to serve the pleasure of the tribe!"

The whips began again. One stroked her back, from her neck to her ass, while the other did her front, paying particular attention to her newly-ringed breasts. Soon, the first man in the line advanced to her face. The one wielding the whip in front quickly shifted to her back, as the man in front of her revealed his sizable cock.

"Please Master, use my mouth for your pleasure while I am being punished!"

He drove into her throat with great force, unmindful of her discomfort, using her hair to increase his leverage and penetration. Her body was pulled back and forth as his hands guided the movement of her mouth on his cock, and she felt the constant pain of the spiked pole digging ever deeper into her cunt, still sealed by the wires piercing her flesh. The heavy rings through her nipples also swung with her motion, adding more pain to the already high level of her torture. And as if that wasn't enough, the whips never stopped.

The man using her mouth pumped his load deep into her throat. As he withdrew, the whips returned briefIy to her front to further redden her already welted breasts and belly, then returned to her back as the next cock filled her mouth. Through it all, the Collar never shielded her from the pain or humiliation, but rather caused her hunger for them to build ever higher.

He was replaced by another man, then still another. Soon the women also began using her mouth in turn, with equal brutality. As Ellen sucked or licked each to orgasm, the whips would briefly switch to her front, until the next one in line moved up to use her mouth.

Eventually, she serviced the entire tribe. The process took hours, exhausting her utterly long before it finished. The torture of her nipples and cunt never stopped, nor did the whips. She was barely conscious as the last cock left her throat to ejaculate on her soiled face. Finally, she just slumped, bound upon the pole.

Nevertheless, her mind, under the spell of the Collar, was fulfilled. She had sinned, and she paid her debt in pain and submission. While her body could scarcely move, her mind still hungered for more punishment.

The High Priest appeared before her once again. This time, he spoke for himself: "This invading pig has paid her debt to the tribe. Now, she will pay her debt to Ambuchar himself, whom she has offended. She shall be permanently chained, naked, in the antechamber to our temple, deep in the caves. There, she shall serve as the temple whore, servicing all our devotees with her mouth and ass. First, though, she must be marked as a whore."

To Ellen's horror, a brazier was carried out containing a pair of branding irons. The High Priest picked up one and displayed it. "The first brand will be placed on your right breast, in the form of the Seal of Ambuchar. It will mark you as his slave."

Replacing the first iron in the brazier, he then held up the second. "The second brand will mark you on your left breast, telling all who use you that you are a whore and will remain so as long as you live."

The irons horrified her. Even through the influence of the Collar, through the substantial pain she already suffered, she showed the fear on her face. The pain from having her breasts branded would cause all the other tortures to pale into insignificance.

Again, her voice took the lead. Now, though, the look of horror covered her face as she begged, "Please Master, brand my tits, and mark me as the Slave-Whore of Ambuchar!"

The crowd cheered. The High Priest smiled broadly as he took both irons and pulled them from the brazier. Even from several feet away, their large, glowing heads radiated a great heat, making Ellen cringe.

He held them aloft for a moment, as he made a proclamation to the approving crowd. Then, he began moving the irons toward Ellen's tits.

She screamed as she felt the approaching heat. But her scream was drowned out with the sound of gunfire.

She looked at the High Priest in wonder. He still stood there, but his head was missing. It had been removed by the staccato blasts of an M-16 rifle. The lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the key to her Collar landing next to it on the ground.

At that same instant, the padlock fastening the Collar around her throat popped open.

Now, she felt the Collar's influence leave her entirely. As the pain returned, she screamed again, looking for help. She saw Michael running to her, rifle in hand, followed by a full squad of heavily armed police. Moments later, she was freed from her tortuous pit and carried in Michael's arms to a waiting ambulance.

Several hours later, she had been thoroughly examined by the limited but competent doctors available. She was uninjured, aside from a substantial number of welts. The piercings in her nipples and labia had been cleaned and dressed, and she was told it would be a few more hours before a surgical suite could be prepared where the metal could be removed from her body. As they waited, Michael talked to her.

"I love you, Ellen. It wasn't until you were taken from me that I realized just how much you mean to me. We've been spending entirely too much time on the dig, and not enough on each other."

"Darling, I love you too!"

Michael smiled at her. "We don't have to stay, you know. The most important part of the dig is over, and we could fly out of this place tomorrow. I've got a nice little cabin up in the mountains where we could spend a month or two alone. If you'd like, we could even make it a honeymoon..."

Ellen put her arms around him. "Oh, Michael, yes! I want to get married, as soon as we get home!"

They both realized they were still in a private room. Ellen's robe had opened in front, revealing one of her new nipple rings. Playfully, Michael put a finger through the ring, tugging on it very gently. "It will be a pity to lose these..."

Ellen moaned, in deep, sudden arousal. She sneaked a hand down to her pussy, but quickly found it sealed completely closed by the wires. Her arousal rose again, by an order of magnitude. Then, suddenly, she opened her eyes. Deep in her heat, she looked at Michael again.

"Let's do it, Michael, except for one thing."

"Yes?"

"Leave all the metal in place. The rings, my cunt wires, all of it!"

Michael felt his own arousal stirring strongly at the thought. Still, he said, "As kinky as that sounds, do you realize we wouldn't be able to fuck normally as long as your cunt is sealed? Hell, you wouldn't even be able to bring yourself off! A month or two in isolation will be a long time for you to wear a chastity belt that neither one of us will be able to remove!"

Ellen closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heat still growing. "Yes, I know!"

"...And with your cunt unavailable, you'd only be able to give me pleasure with your mouth and ass."

Again, the deep breath, the visible arousal. "Oh, yes!" Then, she spoke again. "But you forgot one thing, Michael."

"What?"

"As soon as we get to your cabin, you're going to lock the Collar on me again, and leave it locked on as long as we're there!"

This time, Michael moaned. "Oh, yeah!''

They embraced and kissed. Several hours later, they were flying back to the U.S., Ellen's piercings still intact.

* * *

The wedding had been brief and simple, done by a Justice of the Peace shortly after they left their plane.

The cabin was deep in the woods, far from the city, the suburbs, even the nearest hunter. They were truly alone. Calling the place a cabin was misleading; the house was sizable, with large rooms, high beamed ceilings, a large attic and a cellar with solid stone walls.

They unpacked, stowing enough clothing and food for several months if they chose to stay that long. Last to be unpacked were several heavy, unmarked cartons.

"What are those, Michael? I didn't notice them when we packed."

"That's because I picked them up enroute, while you were shopping in town. They're a surprise."

They opened them together. Inside was a large assortment of leather, the kind of paraphernalia designed to enhance the honeymoon of a Master and an enslaved wife. There were restraints of both leather and steel, whips, clamps, gags, dildos and a substantial quantity of chain, not to mention both padlocks and a large number of eyebolts to which everything could be attached.

"Darling, this is wonderful!"

"I thought you'd like it, slut!"

Their heat was rising again. Ellen's skimpy halter top not only revealed her ringed nipples, but showed them to be erect and waiting.

"I can't wait until you tie me again. It turns me on so much!"

Michael laughed. "And do you expect to he fucked within the hour?"

Ellen blushed, knowing he was referring to her wired cunt. It would remain sealed for at least the duration of their stay, her vagina empty, her clitoris untouched. She felt the vulnerability already, the knowledge that her ass and throat would indeed be fucked regularly throughout their honeymoon.

"I expect only that you use me for your pleasure, darling."

He quickly gathered together all the clothes she had packed, putting them on their bed. "Then why don't you start by stripping, then lock your clothes in the footlocker."

Her blush deepened as she obeyed. The halter came off first, followed by her short skirt and her panties. Finally, she stepped out of her sandals, leaving her totally naked. Moments later, all of her clothes were under lock and key, the key in Michael's pocket.

She stood before him, her hands idly at her sides, fighting the urge of modesty that made her want to cover herself.

Michael examined her in detail, circling her as he did so. "I wouldn't want you to be totally naked, of course." He smiled, then went to one of the cartons and withdrew a set of leather shackles. He strapped them onto her wrists and ankles, leaving them unattached for the moment.

"Now, let's eat!"

Naked, wearing only the leather, Ellen cooked them a pair of small steaks. They ate outdoors, in the broad daylight, Michael fully clothed, enjoying the sight of Ellen's exposure. When the meal was finished, Ellen reached down to her cunt, massaging herself, her frustration visible and building. Michael smiled at her again.

"Something bothering you, Ellen?"

"Yes, you letch, you! I'm horny!"

His smile broadened. "Don't worry, slut. In just a month or two, we'll be going home, and you'll be able to get the wires removed. You can wait that long, can't you?"

"Oh, God!" She moaned loudly, desperate.

"I think I have just the cure for you."

She watched him closely as he brought out the small, ancient leather box. He took out the Collar, the lock and the key, holding them before her.

"You asked for it yourself, before we left. Do you still want it?"

He watched her as her eyes locked in on the Collar. Her nipples grew even larger, the heavy rings pulling them low. Her sealed cunt was oozing her juice. She finally looked back at him and said, "Yes, darling. But first, I want you to use me, without the Collar."

Michael smiled in approval. "Where, slut? Your ass or your mouth?"

"Both. And lock my wrists together first!"

Moments later, her wrists were indeed locked behind her back. She knelt on the grass in front of the house, her knees spread wide, her right cheek to the ground. "Please Master, fuck my ass!"

He took her gladly, enjoying the moderate pain it caused her. She moaned throughout, at first with the pain, later with the pleasure and arousal she got from the rape of her ass. A substantial time later, when he filled her ass to overflowing with his load, she screamed in pleasure.

He pulled her head up by the hair, turning her to face him as she knelt at his feet. "Now, for the second part of your request."

She faced his cock, soft now, still soiled from his ass. Without the influence of the Collar, her reactions were mixed, combining her arousal with the humiliation of the degrading act she was about to perform. She abased herself, and begged, "Please Master, let me clean you with my mouth, then let me suck you to orgasm."

He pulled her onto his cock, forcing her to clean him. He remained in her mouth as his erection returned and, over half an hour later, he shot his second load down her throat.

When he finally received his second cleaning and released his grip on her hair, she collapsed onto the grass, her wrists still locked behind her. When she opened her eyes again a few minutes later, he had tossed a rope over a tree branch and was standing before her.

"Master, please use me as you will!"

He moved her wrists to her front, relocking them, then attached the rope. He hauled her up until her toes barely grazed the grass beneath her, then tied it off. As she groaned in pain, he spoke: "Half an hour, then you get clamps on your nipples. Another half hour, then you get whipped."

She moaned again; he walked away.

Ellen hung by her wrists, alone for a time. She felt the pain of suspension, the fear of more pain from the clamps yet to come, as well as a promised whipping. She loved Michael, would do anything for him; indeed, she owed him her life. Still, she was human, and she felt the pain and fear as well as the arousal. When he returned and attached the painful clamps to her nipples, she screamed with the new pain, still aroused.

More time passed, now with Michael sitting comfortably nearby on a chaise lounge while she hung in the bright sun. Her body glistened with sweat, shuddering with the pain she suffered. When the last of the hour passed, he returned to her, now carrying a cat-o-nine tails.

"Its time, Ellen. But I don't want to do anything to you that you don't want. Say the word, and I'll free you now and allow you to dress."

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, causing her clamped breasts to shake. "It hurts, Michael; it hurts badly. But I want it all. I want to submit to you completely, of my own free will. I need it. So whip me now, and do it hard. Make me scream. Then, put the Collar on me!"

He came close and hugged her as she hung. He noticed a drop of his come which remained on her chin. He scooped it up, then fed it to her, allowing her to lick it off his finger. He then kissed her passionately, unmindful of the tastes her lips still bore. "I will always love you, Ellen!"

"And I will always love you. Please Michael, whip me! Make me your slave before I chicken out!"

He whipped her. The cat welted her ass, her thighs, her back, her stomach. Her cunt received several strokes, as Ellen spread her legs at his command to make herself available. Even her breasts took some strokes, as Michael carefully worked her around her rings and clamps. She screamed on every stroke. When she was finally lowered to the ground and her clamps released, she was crying.

He embraced her. "I'm sorry, Ellen. We've gone too far."

"No!" She startled him with the sudden strength of her reply. "I wanted it all, I even begged for it. And now, there's only one more thing left to do."

The leather box still sat on the grass near them.

He unlocked her wrists. "I want you to do it completely of your own free will, or not at all."

She brought the box to him and set it on the ground, opening it. She lowered her head, then crossed her wrists behind her back. "Please Master, collar your slave."

Michael took out the Collar, the lock and the key. He kissed her again on the forehead, saying, "I love you!"

He fastened the Collar around her neck. The padlock was inserted, then snapped shut.

The glow of light returned. Now, though, it was much brighter. It reached out and totally bathed both of them for many long seconds. The tingling Ellen had felt in her fingers now was a strong rush, engulfing both of them completely. As it finally faded, the Collar, the lock, even the key, all vanished.

Even more amazing, tattoos appeared on Ellen's breasts. They were circular, about two inches across. On her right breast was the Seal of Ambuchar. On her left was, unbelievably, Michael's family crest, and the ancient words for, "Slave-Whore".

Michael was dumbfounded. "Wh-what happened?"

Ellen smiled. "I am your total slave again, Master, just like before.

"But what happened to the Collar?"

"Do you remember the inscription, Master? It ended, '...third time forever. '"

"Yes."

"This is the third time. Now, I will remain your slave, forever."

He embraced her again, feeling both her absolute love for him and her total and unconditional submission. He smiled, as he found his erection returning for the third time that afternoon.

"Perhaps you could suggest an interesting position for me to bind you in while you suck my cock again. . . "

"Of course, Master. I think if you hung me by my widespread ankles, you could enjoy the view, as well as whipping me on my cunt and the undersides of my breasts while I sucked you. And if you locked some heavy chains on my nipple rings, it might also motivate me to work harder to please you."

It was all done as she suggested. It took a full hour to bring him to orgasm that time, and they both enjoyed it thoroughly.

Ellen remained naked throughout their two-month stay, served Michael's pleasure constantly and was kept in restraints through most of it.

When they returned home, they quickly established a routine for the serving of Michael's pleasure. She did all the housework, waited on Michael hand and foot and kept him in sexual paradise. She loved her role, and equally, he loved his.

Six months later, her cunt wires were finally removed, to be replaced with lockable rings, so that their male visitors would have her cunt available if they desired.

They had each discovered their own paradise . Michael's was to be the owner of a totally devoted slave. And Ellen's was to be his property: the Slave-Whore of Ambuchar.


Master Ivan
Copyright © 1994

[nicole]

Very good Master Ivan. Keep them coming!