Knightmare27
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2011
- Posts
- 1,826
Seemingly without even noticing she was still stark naked, the witch hung her dripping dress next to the fireplace and left it there. The orange flames played on her pale skin and let shadows dance all over it, throwing her breasts and hips and everything else of that lovely body into sharp relief. She was tempting him without even knowing it.
Every step was still causing her pain. He really had done a good job making her feet as sore as they could be. It would probably be days before she was not reminded of her public punishment with every step she took. The memories would be much slower to fade. Especially of those moments where she had lingered near death and which had left that pink line across her neck, its traces still clearly visible.
She tried to lean on him as little as she could, he noticed. She was trying to hide how much her feet still hurt, to appear stronger in front of him. He was reminded of the defiant, seductive woman he had confronted in the torture chamber just a few days before. She was still there, and slowly back in control again. Her pride would come back, her hair grow again - but she would forever remain a branded servant.
Her eyes, too, were beginning to be the ones of the lecherous witch again. He did not mind that, at all. He had similar thoughts, and would give in to temptation once he could no longer fight it. And with every time she leaned her weakened, bare body on him, he was losing that battle a little bit more. Patience. She is yours forever.
Lianne willingly held out her ankle to be chained, a sign that she was resigned to her new life. He brought the two halves of the shackle together around her foot, inserted the bolt through them and secured it by padlocking the other end. Now she was ready for her first of many nights as a penitent. The hand shackles remained unused for now - they would be used if she ever displeased him. Which would likely be soon, seeing as the witch was already gathering back her old strength.
She moved and turned uncomfortably before curling up in a position that would take pressure off her feet and neck. He gave her one last, encouraging pat on the backside before leaving.
He was back in her cell early the next morning, carrying her dress, now bone dry and fairly clean again. She had really cleaned it up well - which was good because cleaning would be the rest of her life. He knelt down and placed it on her naked body before shaking her by the shoulder.
"Time to wake up and begin your new life. Follow me down to the torture chamber, where you will begin cleaning everything."
He bent down to unchain her ankle. She looked so peaceful and almost...cuddly. Despite her marked face and bald head.
"In the coming days, I will bring in many of the people whose names you gave me. If they are anything like you, I will dirty and use my equipment every day. And you will clean and repair it every day."
Every step was still causing her pain. He really had done a good job making her feet as sore as they could be. It would probably be days before she was not reminded of her public punishment with every step she took. The memories would be much slower to fade. Especially of those moments where she had lingered near death and which had left that pink line across her neck, its traces still clearly visible.
She tried to lean on him as little as she could, he noticed. She was trying to hide how much her feet still hurt, to appear stronger in front of him. He was reminded of the defiant, seductive woman he had confronted in the torture chamber just a few days before. She was still there, and slowly back in control again. Her pride would come back, her hair grow again - but she would forever remain a branded servant.
Her eyes, too, were beginning to be the ones of the lecherous witch again. He did not mind that, at all. He had similar thoughts, and would give in to temptation once he could no longer fight it. And with every time she leaned her weakened, bare body on him, he was losing that battle a little bit more. Patience. She is yours forever.
Lianne willingly held out her ankle to be chained, a sign that she was resigned to her new life. He brought the two halves of the shackle together around her foot, inserted the bolt through them and secured it by padlocking the other end. Now she was ready for her first of many nights as a penitent. The hand shackles remained unused for now - they would be used if she ever displeased him. Which would likely be soon, seeing as the witch was already gathering back her old strength.
She moved and turned uncomfortably before curling up in a position that would take pressure off her feet and neck. He gave her one last, encouraging pat on the backside before leaving.
He was back in her cell early the next morning, carrying her dress, now bone dry and fairly clean again. She had really cleaned it up well - which was good because cleaning would be the rest of her life. He knelt down and placed it on her naked body before shaking her by the shoulder.
"Time to wake up and begin your new life. Follow me down to the torture chamber, where you will begin cleaning everything."
He bent down to unchain her ankle. She looked so peaceful and almost...cuddly. Despite her marked face and bald head.
"In the coming days, I will bring in many of the people whose names you gave me. If they are anything like you, I will dirty and use my equipment every day. And you will clean and repair it every day."