Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
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SSC: The Basket
(****, M/F, Edgy, NC torture, anal)
It's the sultan's ultimate punishment. (Approximately 494 words. Originally published 1998-07.)
The girl was new to the harem. One can't really blame her for not understanding her place.
She was startlingly beautiful. Her face was equisite, with flawless skin and blue pools for eyes. Her body was equally stunning, with wide and pronounced buttocks and large, round breasts.
She was a western girl, ignorant of the east. She stared directly at men, and grew angry when her face was slapped. She refused to wear her until she was beaten.
In an effort to tame her, her buttocks and breasts flogged every day for a week. When the sultan's assistant arrived, she spat in his face. For that she was strung upside down, her legs tethered well apart, and the whip was used across her exposed sex and anus. Every time she fainted they revived her. When she began to bleed they halted the whipping, for the sultan hoped she could be trained.
The woman was too proud. Each morning they offered her the choice of her day's activities: she could be bathed in cool waters, have her skin rubbed with oils and perfumes, or she could be placed on display at the palace entrance.
Foolish girl. She always chose the vulgar display.
First her feet and buttocks were beaten with rods. Then she was doubled and her feet bound behind her head. At the palace gate she was mounted onto a large stone phallus. It was so thick it took four men to get her onto it, and there was often blood.
Her arms were tethered wide above her head. Her breasts were coated with honey. Ants, flies, and nameless insects crawled over her, biting and pinching. There she sat motionless for the entire day, her only entertainent enduring the occasional floggings.
Her proud face glared haughtily to all who entered the sultan's palace, however, and he grew more and more angry with her. Everyone could see that she hadn't submitted, hadn't complied.
It was the basket that did it. She was doubled and bound with her head between her ankles. They placed her in the basket face down. Only the naked haunches of her buttocks were visible. These, strangers whipped, pinched, and poked. Men whose faces she would never see entered her so often (without warning), that her anus dripped semen all day long.
No longer did her prideful face show. No longer did people speak of her with a tone hinting of respect. She was forgotten, nothing but an ornament in the sultan's palace, like dozens of others. She was only anonymous buttocks waiting to be used.
It broke her. After a month she begged for release, but sultan refused. "Serve in the basket for one year," he commanded, "and then you shall be granted the privilege of harem girl."
So she endured the days in the dark bottom of the basket, her buttocks tormented constantly, and dreamed of the blissful cushions and baths of the harem.