Tales of Drysdale House (11A)

 My apologies that this took so long to post.It is a complex chapter and as a novice to AI images, I could not get what I wanted. The chapter ran very long so it will be posted over two days, tomorrow will be 11B, The whipping of Hannah Quigley

Tale 11A Feeding Hannah Quigley

Hannah’s cell was something out of a medieval movie. Stone flagstones made up the floor, the walls were of the quarried stone blocks that made up the foundation and cellars of Dragonwyck House. The ceiling was slightly vaulted; there was no natural light. The illumination came from a single incandescent bulb in the far corner, high in a sconce on the wall. It was a dismal room. The large cell was designed for more than one prisoner and was some twenty feet by thirty. Hannah was secured to a wall, out of sight of the barred window in the sturdy oak door. Her back was to me; she was sobbing.

“How can I eat this? there is no way I can eat this.”

I approached the girl, my boots made little or no sound. Hannah was kneeling with her back to me. She had a heavy iron collar around her neck; a chain ran from the collar to a ring bolt secured to the wall. Except for a pair of lacy red panties, the girl was nude. I cleared my throat; she did not respond. I crouched behind her and gently touched her arms. The poor girl started violently but did not turn around.

“Hannah? Hannah, Barbara is worried about you. How did you come to be in this state?”

The crying stopped, but she did not move.

“Hannah” It is me, Patrick Masters. How did you come to be in this state?”

“I can’t eat my food. They did not bring me a spoon. How can I eat my food if they didn’t bring me a spoon? They brought me a spoon at breakfast, but they didn’t bring me a spoon now. I haven’t eaten all day and I have no spoon.”

The Paga Diaries (37)

 37.  Oral Training        

“What items did you have in mind?” Cleodemus asked as he gingerly rolled up the scroll and placed it back into the protective leather casing.

“Items from Trakkar manual, gags, dummy cock, no salt gruel. What else you advice?”

“I advise a long mirror. Make the kajira pose in front of it and look at herself for ahn, perfecting her form.  Now for gags. Keeta come out here,” he said.  Keeta, his petite dark skinned slave trotted out and kneeled at his feet in nadu.  I admired her collar as before, the thin steel bar encircling her neck; I had not seen a collar like that.  I also couldn’t help but admire her body, her small but pointy breasts straining against the fabric of her tight fitted slave tunic.

Paga Diaries (36)

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Paga Diaries (35)

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Tales of Drysdale House (10)

Tale 10  A Lady eats an evening meal.

Anders, the slave girl Lena, and a strange man had been taken inside the confines Dragonwyck II, the sinister home of Vincent VanRijn. VanRijn, the man I had sworn to the Fricks I would help Anders assassinate. 

Paga Diaries (34)

 

34.  How To Train A Kajira?

 With her back to the fire and her hands braceleted behind her, Mena knelt on the floor with her knees spread wide.  I had just applied healing salve to her fresh brand, and cut her hair.  She watched me as I went to the couch and sat.  My mind was racing.  I was excited to own a beautiful woman and have her kneeling naked on my floor.  I had put my collar on her!  So many thoughts and training ideas competed for attention in my head.  How to train a kajira?  I was slightly nervous about my ability.  My next steps would be very important, with mistakes having unpleasant consequences.  I knew from my military experience that initial instruction was crucial in accomplishing desired training goals, and that if this initial stage was improperly done, it would be difficult to correct later.  This early opportunity should not be squandered by me.  I needed to be strict, deliberate and focused.  I needed to rein in any concern that I might have for her feelings, discomfort, or opinions regarding me or the training.

Heartless Cruelty

 

Heartless Cruelty

Pauline Anne Armitage

This is brutal!  Heartless in the extreme.  What the poor girl is suffering is cruelty personified.  But then, this is Gor.  Civilised standards, as I grew up with, being an Earth-girl slave, a barbarian by Gorean thinking, are not the same here.  I suppose that it’s a matter of perspective.