Inspired by O

As O’s vision was fading to o black, she felt a warm spurt on her lower back,,, and thought, “Ishi has pulled out of me and come on my back.  I wonder why…” Then she lapsed into unconsciousness, or was it death?

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O found herself standing by a river. She felt the need to get to the other side, but there was no bridge in sight, nor any boat. Then a figure approached   her from behind. She heard the figure say, “O, it’s time.” She turned and saw what looked like a tall man standing in front of her. She couldn’t be sure because she couldn’t see a face; it was all blurred. She said, “Time for what?”

The figure, O  was now sure it was a man, but she still couldn’t make out a face, replied, “You know.  Time for you to accept your eternal Fate.” Then O felt as if she was watching herself from a distance, watching herself talk to the tall figure. She noticed that she was completely naked, but he was dressed in a suit and there was a cape around his shoulders. She thought it strange  that he was wearing a cape, as it was a warm, sunny day. The figure said, “You must go to the other side of the river. This side is for the living and those who have led a good life.”

Then, as if by magic, a boat appeared -a sort of rowboat with a fat man in a beret in it. He looked at O and said, “Get in.” She got in the boat, and as she did, she asked the tall man in the cape. Will you be there on the other side?” He said, “Of course…”

The rowboat arrived on the other side. It wasn’t  warm and sunny like the side where she had been. No. It was gloomy, actually hot – O could feel sweat forming under her arms and on her forehead- and there was an acrid smell. She turned to the fat man  in the rowboat, who was already leaving, and asked, “What is this place?” He grinned at her and said, “You know what it is. It’s your eternal reward.”

Then O felt her arms being grabbed. It was two small men, faceless like the tall man on the other side. The she felt her sex and anus being probed. She said, “Please, no.” One of the faceless men said, “Get used to it, whore!” Then he spun O around so that he was facing her. He was shorter than O by more than a full head, but well-muscled and strong. She still couldn’t make out a face. The man’s head was at the level of her breasts; then suddenly he bit her nipple, a long, sucking bite. O cried out this time. Then the short man pulled back, saying, “You know where you are, don’t you?”

O, with tears running down her face, said, “No! I don’t know where I am, but please take me back to the  other side.”

Okay, when we last saw O, it was way back in May. She was helping Sir Stephen “take care” of Ito Ishi, a Japanese gangster. She was to seduce him and find out where he had hidden some incriminating photos and a video pf one of  the Royals. But the plan went wrong.

To catch you up, here’s a repost of the last time we saw O.

Ishi thought something didn’t add up and this tall girl was to blame. He overpowered O and bound her hands together using one of the scarves, then using another looped them to the headboard.  Next he bound O’s ankles to either side of the footboard, leaving her bent over, legs spread, and her hips higher than her torso.

 Ishi again traced the faded scar on O’s buttocks before moving to the inside of her thighs. He said, “Incredibly smooth.” Then he plunged a  finger into O’s sex bringing a sharp gasp from her. Then a second, while his thumb pressed against her rectum.  He began to move his fingers in and out, all the while keeping pressure with his thumb. “Yes, you’ll be wet soon,” said Ishi.

O, more humiliated than ever, knew he was right, as a soft moan escaped her lips. Ishi continued to thrust two fingers into O’s sex as he pushed his thumb into her rectum and twirled his forefinger around her swollen clitoris which had emerged from its protective sheath. O tried to suppress a soft moan, but her body betrayed her. Ishi heard the moan and laughed, saying, “You are easy, O. So easy.”

O’s body overcame her mind as Ishi’s persistent fingers brought forth another soft loan. She knew she was close, but Ishi suddenly stopped fondling her. He said in a contemptuous voice, “Are you wet from fear or is it in anticipation of the whipping?”  When O didn’t answer, he continued, “No matter. You’ll stay as you are while I undress.” Then he first removed his belt and placed it in front of O, saying, “Here, look at what awaits you. Notice that it has a metal tip.”

O looked at the leather belt coiled in front of her like a snake. An apt description as the metal tip was cast in the shape of a cobra, ready to strike.

Ito Ishi left O bound there on the bed with his belt curled in front of her face. A moment later he said, “I will change clothing now before I whip you.” Then O heard him open one of the closets. She tilted her head so that she could see Ishi’s reflection in a mirror. O watched as he took off his suit, shirt, and under wear, before taking a traditional Japanese robe from the closet and putting it on. Then he stood over O for a moment before saying, “I think I will move your position to get a better view.”

Ishi moved O onto the bed and retied her so that her ankles were tied to each side of the posts of the foot board while her hands were pulled between her open legs and bound to the center of the foot board. Thus, O was on her knees with her hips were raised and her legs pulled apart. Ishi again thrust two fingers into O’s sex and said, “I will film you being whipped.”

He then went to the closet again and opened the door. Rom the corner of her eye, O could see the small safe, identical to the one in the suite she was sharing with Sir Stephen. She saw Ishi punch the buttons on the safe saying what sounded like “Roko Mitso, Roko Mitso.” Then Ishi withdrew not a camera, but a phone. He showed this phone to O and said, “I have two phones – one for communication, but this one I use to take photos and film things that are interesting to me. Later I will amuse myself by watching me beat and take you before I dispose of you.”

Hearing these lest words, O felt a chill go through her body. She bent her head so that she could look at Ishi’s face and said, “What do you mean ‘dispose’?” Ishi only laughed and said, “Don’t worry. After I am through with you, death will be a release for you.” Then he stuffed some cloth in O’s mouth to stifle any cries. Then he picked up the coiled belt and held a lit cigarette lighter under the metal tip until it glowed hot. O heard a swishing sound, then felt a terrible burning pain on her rear.

As the blows landed on her buttocks and thighs, O was unable to cry out due to the wadded up cloth that Ishi had stuffed into her mouth. All she was able to do was issue muffled moans.

Finally Ishi stopped beating her – fatigued from the effort. With sweat pouring down his face, he leaned close to O’s tear stained face and said, “ I have left lovely marks on you. Now I’ll use my camera phone to record them so I can watch later after you are gone.” O was unable to see how he held the camera as he panned it over her bruised and battered body.

“Now, I’ll set it up to record while I take you.”  He paused, then, “And finish you.” Ishi set the phone camera on a desk and removed the sash on his robe. He looped the sash around O’s neck. Then O felt him roughly enter her.

As Ishi drove in and out of her, he tightened the sash. O had trouble breathing and tried to gasp for air but was unable to do so. She heard Ishi say, “There’s nothing like the feeling of a whore’s sex spasming as she dies.” Hearing this, O thought, “My God! He means to choke me to death!”

Ishi continued to pound into O, all the while tightening the sash. O felt her vision blur. She was able to turn her head enough to see the mirror and the reflection in it- a man strangling a woman while he was raping her. O remembered hearing from someone – she couldn’t remember who – that when you are close to death, your life passes before your eyes. Various images came to O: a young girl lying in bed listening to the sounds emanating from her mother’s bedroom – grunts and moans of passion; getting on a plane to Brazil with Robert and Yasmin; her maid finding her bound in her own bedroom after Ted left her there; the night she met Rene; being taken and whipped by strange men at Roissy; the first night at Sir Stephen’s; being flogged at Anne Marie’s homme at Samois; being pierced and branded like a cow; being led on a leash attached to the heavy ring that pierced her labia…” Her mind began to lose focus.

O heard the grunting of Ishi as she began to lose consciousness but was also nearing orgasm.  One of her last thoughts was, “How appropriate for me. Coming as I am being fucked to death. A slave and whore until the end.”

James Abbe (1883-1973)

Stephan10

Surely, at some time, a woman has told you, "Don't rush me!"

Maybe we will find out this month.

When the gong sounded, old Cyril looked up from the glass of Port that he had been drinking and said, “Oh jolly good! A slave walk is about to begin. That’s always a good show; let’s go watch it!” His grandnephew,  Cecil, Faustine, and Geard and Anais all got up and followed the old man into the great hall. There they were joined by the other diners in the restaurant, Masters who had been in the library, various valets and the slaves that were on duty elsewhere in the Chateau.

Faustine nudged Cecil and said, “Do you know what this is about?” He shook his head and she turned to Anais, “Do you?” She said, “No idea.” Then a group of figures came into view. The first was a woman of indeterminate age, nicely dressed and carrying a riding crop in her right hand. Gerad leaned over and said to Anais and Faustine, “That’s Anne Marie, the day to day manager of the Chateau.” Behind Anne Marie was another nicely dressed woman, much younger than Anne Maroe and not he least bit comely. She had a leash in her right and was pulling along a nude girl at the other end of the leash. Faustine’s eyes widened when she saw how the leash was attached – not to the leather collar around the girl’s neck, but rather to a heavy ring that pierced her labia.

When Anais saw the girl, she remembered seeing her before. She said out loud, “I recognize that girl. She was one of our waitresses when Gerard brought me here before. She said that her lover had her labia pierced with that ring so that she could wear his insignia there. She said she belonged to him, body and soul.”

Old Cyril interrupted, saying, “Yes, she was Louis’ property, but he married that Spanish woman and now she is the property of the family, nit just of a single individual.”

“Oh, how humiliating to be led like that!” said Anais. “Where are they taking her?”

“Likely to be flogged,” said Gerard. ”To remind her of  her status as a slave.”

Well, another long, hot month is over. And our story was mostly about happenings at Roissy with a very short detour to Mons, Belgium. Let’s have a short recap, shall we:

At Roissy Jeanne is going to be disciplined by  her new “owner,’ Maria Louisa, who recently married Jeanne’s longtime lover/Master. Of course, Anne Marie will do everything possible to make a spectacle of it, ensuring humiliation is a part of Jeanne’s punishment. What next for poor Jeanne?

We saw a couple of new characters arrive at Chateau Roissy – old fat Cyril’s grandnephew, Cecil Sait Claire and his date, Faustine. Faustine just happens to be a classmate of another young girl, Anais, and her ‘date.’ Gerard, the younger brother of Etienne. It seems that there may be some issues between the girl, but before we could find out any further information, a gong sounded signifying a ‘slave walk.’ Will seeing Jeanne on the walk lead to conflict between Anais and Faustine?

Meanwhile in an upper suite at the Chateau, Ari and Zoe are quite busy. And Ari tells her about how he had his former lover/slave crucified. Does Ari have any  regrets about  it?

Turning away from Roissy, we found out that Colonel T.J. Grey’s tour of duty at NATO/SHAPE is ending. T.J. must either accept an assignment to the Defense Intelligence Agency or retire. His German secretary Gudrun has asked him over for dinner to discuss his options. Does she have ulterior motives?

And we had various photos of cute cats, fairy tale-like castles and branding irons. What more could a girl want? 😊

i hope You enjoyed my little stories and photos and will come back later for more ‘Stories of O.’

Hope to see You next month.

When Anais and Faustine got back to the table, Faustine sat there, silently, sulking. Little Quay came over and said, “Would mademoiselle like for me to pour her some more wine?” Faustine looked at her and looked at the lace-like covering of the top of Quy’s dress. She noticed that beneath the lace, there was nothing to the dress and Quy’s brown nipples were visible. Then she looked over at Binh and noticed her nipples were also visible beneath the lace of her dress. She thought to herself, “Hmmm, no bras. Perhaps Anais was correct. Perhaps the women who are our waitresses are prostitutes, but as ‘foreigners’ they have probably been trafficked here.” (Never  mind that both Quy and Binh were born in France to immigrants).

The three men’s conversation had moved on to the situation in Iran, and they were largely ignoring Faustine and Anais, who had noticed the look on Faustine’s face and whispered, “See I told you so.”

Faustine replied, “But they probably didn’t choose to be here, nor are they likely to be the lovers of any man I see here.”

Anais sighed. She tapped Gerard on the sleeve and said, “Would you ask one of the girls to bring the ‘Album’ over. I think Faustine would like to see it.” Old Cyril heard the remark and waved Quy over, saying, “Please bring  the mademoiselle the album.” Quy curtsied and scurried away.

She returned momentarily with a heavy, embossed leather album and placed it in front of Faustine.

Remember, Each girl who came to Roissy – whether as a personal slave or one of the free prostitutes had her photograph taken – in fact several photos – for the ‘Album’ as it was called. Each girl had a ‘page’ in the album with a photo of her face and one or two others showing her figure, partially unclothed or more likely completely nude. Most of the photos were in relatively good taste, but some were quite obscene.

Faustine opened the book. There on the first page in four languages were the words: “Welcome to Chateau Roissy. Following are photos and text about our slaves. If you wish one to be your companion, just ask. She will not refuse.” After reading this, she looked over at Cyril and said, “It refers to slaves. Are the women here really slaves?”

Gerard interrupted, “No, of course not in the sense you mean. No woman is being held here against her will. All the women here came willingly.”

Faustine then casually flipped through the pages of the album. She first noticed the entry for Quy. There was the photo of her face, then one in the same type of dress that she was wearing today, and one of her completely nude, taken from the rear, with Quy looking over her shoulder and a coy look on her face. Faustine remarked, “Why, here is the page for our waitress.” Hearing this, Quy grinned and said, “Yes. It’s me.”

Anais then began flipping pages as Faustine watched. She found the page she wanted, pointed to it and said to Faustine, “Here we are. This is the page for a girl called O. Look at her photos and read what it says about her.” Again, a head shot, and a photo of O in a dress like the one Quy was wearing. And then one of her completely nude, staring straight ahead, her feet slightly spread, with the heavy ring piercing her labia and  the pendant hanging from it clearly visible. Faustine read aloud what it said about the girl in the photo. “Here is O, slave to Sir Stephen, pierced and branded, well trained mouth, should be whipped.”

When Faustine finished reading, Anais said, “There are others like that. It’s not that uncommon here.”

Meanwhile in Anne Marie’s quarters: Anne Marie looked at Jeanne who was completely naked, save for the leather bracelets on her wrists and ankles. Her hands were bound behind her back using those bracelets,  and a dog leash had been attached to the heavy ring that pierced Jeanne’s labia. Maria Louisa held the other end of the leash in her hand. Anne Marie took the riding crop in her hand and made circles around Jeanne’s left nipple with it, causing the nipple to further stiffen.

The Anne Marie spoke, “This is how a slave should look – naked and in complete control of the person who owns them. Don’t you agree, Maria Louisa?”

The horse--faced Spanish woman replied, “I agree, but you said I must demonstrate my ability to also punish as well as control.”

“Yes, I did,” said Anne Marie.  Then, slightly tapping the end of the crop on Jeanne’s right nipple, she said, “Jeanne,  tell your Mistress what is going to happen next.”

Jeanne ,  who had tears streaming down her face, causing streaks in her makeup,  didn’t- couldn’t- answer at first. Anne Marie then used the crop to slap her breast hard, causing an immediate red welt on Jeanne’s ample bosom, and said in a harsh voice, “Tell your Mistress what is going to happen next!”

Jeanne gulped and said softly, “ I’m going to be led to the Blue Room, bound, and be punished - whipped.”

“How and where are you to be whipped?” said Anne Marie. “Tell her!”

“I’ll be led to the dais and laid down on the platform there. My hands will be attached to an iron ring set at the head of the platform.  Then my ankles will be attached to the posts at the other end of the platform.”

Anne Marie interrupted, “What does this do- tying your ankles to the posts?”

Jeanne replied, “It makes me spread my legs and…” Jeanne stopped. “I can’t…” She began sobbing loudly.

Anne Marie reached out as quick as a snake and slapped Jeanne across her face, saying, “You stupid whore! I’ll tell you what will happen! Your legs will be spread open, baring your sex with the heavy ring hanging from it. Then you’ll be whipped! Whipped between your widespread thighs. Whipped on your lower belly, inner thighs, and most importantly, your sex! You’ll be whipped on that very thing that marks you as a woman. Whipped like the slave and whore that you are. You’ll beg for mercy, beg for the whipping to stop. But it won’t. It won’t until your Mistress wants it to!”

Anne Marie stopped shouting at Jeanne and composed herself. Then turning too Maria Louisa, she continued, “But before the punishment, there is humiliation. You’ll lead Jeanne down the hallway, across the main vestibule to the Blue Room. Yvette will have the valet’s ring a loud gong to call out all the other slaves to watch Jeanne being pulled along on the leash. She’ll be led like an animal, except the leash is attached to her most intimate body part.”

After Gerard and Anais joined old Cyril, his nephew Cecil, and Faustine at their table, Cyril waved Quy over. He told the girl, “Two more bottles of your finest wine, my dear. A chardonnay and a bottle of Port.” Then he winked at Anais and said, “You young people enjoy the white; the Port is for me.” Gerard said, “May as well bring me a scotch.” Quy did what she considered a curtesy and went to get the wine.

Faustine watched the little Vietnamese girl scurry away in her 18th Century style dress and remarked to no one in particular, “Doesn’t she look out of place in that outfit? A clash of cultures, so to speak.”

Cyril replied, “It’s traditional here, my dear. The outfits, I mean. Besides, they are practical, if you know what I mean.”

And Anais thought to herself, “Faustine, you know absolutely nothing about the traditions here.”

Quy brought the wine and poured a glass of the chardonnay for each of the women and Cecil. She then sat a tumbler of scotch in front of Gerard and placed the bottle of Port beside Cyril. Cyril said, “To us, then,” and everyone took a drink. A short silence ensued, then Cyril broke the silence by saying, “Gerard, what do you and Cecil think about that American president and his tariffs? Will that affect your brother’s business much, Gerard?” The men then began talking among themselves, basically ignoring Anais and Faustine, who silently sipped their wine.

After a bit Faustine said, “I need to use the ladies room.” Gerard chuckled and said, “Anais will show you where it is.” As both girls were walking away from the table, Faustine whispered to Anais, “You seem upset with me. Is it because I disagreed with your thesis in class? I mean, your premise was so false. No woman would agree to become a sex slave. All those poor women who become slaves are trafficked involuntarily.”

Once inside the restroom, Anais pointed to a Turkish toilet in the corner that has mirrors all around it. She said, “Look at that. When you squat, you see yourself, your privates. All reflected in the mirrors. That is the toilet the wait staff must use. You think they do so voluntarily? Just imagine that little Vietnamese girl who is our waitress squaring down, seeing herself. You think she wants to see that. No. It’s imposed on her.”

Faustine gave a puzzled look. “I’m not sure I understand. Do you mean our waitresses are sex slaves?”

“Yes. Along with the other women here dressed like them. And it’s much worse for the ones they call personal slaves. They are whipped almost daily. AND they chose to be here to please their lovers.” Anais paused, then, “Just like my thesis that you made fun of.”

“I’m just not sure I believe you,” said Faustine.

Surge - Patrick von Kalckreuth , n/d .

German , 1898-1970