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The Lord of the Sea (IV)

PrincessMythik

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on: June 12, 2019, 04:17:48 PM
THE LORD OF THE SEA (IV)







Eduard finished tying Karla to the anchor, located in the middle of a spacious room that SeaLord had christened "The Winery", in memory of those existing in the old galleons corsairs, dungeons of prisoners and slaves kidnapped in some assault. SeaLord's cellar was the punishment room.  Far from any artificiality, it was a large room, with immaculate white walls, with no more decoration than some shelves and an endless collection of instruments common in sadomasochistic relations. From the ceiling hung chains, pulleys and rods, along with numerous directional spotlights with light bulbs of various colors. SeaLord was a lover of contrasts, of playing with the intensity of light, of creating chiaroscuro, shadows and luminous effects with the mixture of colors. Next to the scarce common furniture -some wardrobe, several chairs, a table and an armchair upholstered in black with a comfortable appearance-, the traditional set of furniture for sado sessions: the cross of Saint Andrew, the easel, the mooring posts... And the anchor. In the middle of the room. Forged in iron by SeaLord's own hands. Devised and conceived as a singular instrument of torture. Placed on a platform, SeaLord had designed an entire system of gears and rails that allowed the position of the anchor to be varied: tilted backwards or forwards, tilted and lifted. The anchor was thus a scaffold to bind, bind, crucify or hang the slave, in the most varied postures, according to the intensity of the desired punishment.  The arganeo - the upper link of the anchor to hold it to the chain - could be used as a clamp, inserting the slave's head into it and closing it around his neck. The upper bar - the clamp, in marine language - allowed the slave to be tied or chained in all its extension, depending on whether one wanted a greater or lesser stretching or horizontality of his arms. The same happened with the lower arms of the anchor, which also had rails to vary the position of the legs, without the need to be untied, until the total opening of the legs, if the flexibility of the slave allowed it.







Karla was bound by Eduard, as SeaLord had ordered. He had fastened his wrists and ankles with wide leather handcuffs. His arms and legs wide open, formed an almost perfect "X". Karla knew the anchor well, she knew of the first tremor when she noticed the cold iron of the cane in the bare skin, of the infinite distance between the nails when her legs opened to the limit of dislocation. In the anchor he had learned to suffer and to love. Before leaving, Eduard turned off the lights in the room, except for three red spotlights directed at the anchor. The soft light of the spotlights dimly illuminated the entire body of the slave who seemed to be crucified in the shadows of emptiness, filling it with the sensuality of her brief breasts, of her smooth belly, of her infant pubis, of her choppy breath.







So Miriam found her when she entered the hold, led by SeaLord. His contemplation made him open his eyes exorbitantly. How different from Karla who had ordered him to shut up inside the car!  The submissive woman seemed fragile, brittle and absolutely beautiful in her submission. Karla could not see them in that darkness, only broken in her body. He guessed the master's presence because he heard his footsteps as he entered the room.  Miriam was barefoot and her footsteps were light and silent. SeaLord stopped and so did Miriam. He let go of the chain that caressed the skin of Miriam's belly.  He approached Karla, contemplating her engrossed. SeaLord's closeness accelerated the woman's pulse. It always happened to her and she became more acute when she knew she was stopped in her movements, ready for a punishment announced but never described. A punishment, of inexorable fulfillment, that I feared and longed for, in equal parts.  He knew the owner's look even though he couldn't look him in the eye. Karla often struggled to evade her mind with absurd ideas, with idyllic landscapes, because she knew that SeaLord guessed her thoughts. And in some inexplicable way, he controlled and directed them. The cold sweat pearls his bare skin.  Invisibly, it was vaporized with SeaLord's warm breath that Karla felt in her flesh like a caress of air. The master's voice, velvety, tightened Karla's muscles.







- It is easier to control the pain of the body than that of the soul - SeaLord spoke slowly, as he stroked the contour of Karla's breasts, caressing it lightly with the tip of his index finger. - In the skin, pain marks its ephemeral territory. In the soul, it cradles without marks and accommodates.







He didn't say anything else. He stepped back in his footsteps and disappeared into the shadows of the room. Karla looked straight ahead in a vain attempt to spot him.  He prepared his mind for the first blow, for the first discharge of pain that used to be the most intense, unexpectedly. But it didn't come. He began to clearly distinguish the restless sounds of a woman's breath.







SeaLord had stood behind Miriam. He grabbed her by the waist and began kissing her neck and shoulders, gently biting the lobes of her ears. Her hands furrowed her soft skin, searching and finding the turgidity of her breasts, which she kneaded and molded with deep caresses.  With pleasure, he discovered the humidity of his sex. Miriam gave herself effortlessly to the pleasure offered. His heart was beating fast and his legs were weak. SeaLord squeezed her against herself and a sublime shiver ran down the woman's spine as she felt the rubbing of her clothes on her back and her bare buttocks.







Grabbing the chain, SeaLord took her to the couch. She undressed completely and accommodated herself in it. Miriam saw herself dragged toward the man pulling the chain around her neck. He sat on his legs as his lips melted into a deep, burning kiss. Miriam had SeaLord's skin burned on hers and her limb felt erect tight against her belly. He wished for it within himself but did not dare to take the initiative.  It was his hands that arranged the moment, lifting Miriam's body that held her knees on the seat, shaking them against SeaLord's body. With extreme softness, the cock was penetrating her, until she was completely trapped in the humid cavern of her hot sex. A wave of pleasure shook Miriam who, frantically, rode the maddened SeaLord member, possessed by an unbridled desire that annihilated her fears and complexes.  The darkness prevented us from enjoying the vision of the bodies but not from feeling their growing ardour, our own and others' sweat, flesh upon flesh, sex against sex.  SeaLord didn't know if he was possessing that woman or she was the one possessing him.  Miriam marked the rhythm of the penetrations, intense, vigorous, deep.  SeaLord, without letting go of the chain, pulled it, knocking the woman over his chest. And Miriam gasped, groaned and screamed, dragged by the force of an orgasm, endless and shared.







When SeaLord came back in front of Karla, she could see the sticky brilliance of SeaLord's semi-erect dick. And he guessed in his face the bitter traces of a suffering that was born from within.







- The pain of the soul, Karla - he said, his voice choked by a breath still altered. - Don't be dragged along by him. I could destroy you.







And flicking the chain on her fingers, she left the room with Miriam, leaving Karla at the anchor, vanished and immobile, her eyes flooded with tears, as was always the case after a long session of bodily torture. But this time, his whitish body had no more redness than the light from the spotlights directed at him.


 

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