Historic BDSM Story – Runaway Slave

Runaway Slave, by Evelyn

The Count was angry.  He paced up and down the Great hall of his castle, shouting his orders to all the servants.  “You can’t be looking hard enough” he yelled at one of the unfortunate menials, “She couldn’t possibly have gone far with those chains still round her wrists and ankles.  Unless, of course, someone is helping her”.  He looked around at a sea of terrified faces.  Everyone shook their heads and protested that they had no idea of how their Master’s slave had managed to escape.  The Count threw himself down into a large, high backed chair in front of the fire which was burning fiercely in the enormous, central fireplace.  “I want her found and I want her found before sunset tomorrow” he growled “Now get out and don’t come back without her.”

The servants practically ran from the room, glad to escape his anger.  They all knew what their Master was capable of when he was angered.

On his own in the Great Hall, the Count thought about the runaway slave.  Candice, was indeed a beautiful woman.  In her mid twenties, she still had the face of a young and innocent girl; but innocent she certainly was not. – the Count had seen to that.  Only five feet tall, with long, flaming red hair, she was beautifully proportioned.  Her waist was slim, she had beautiful, large soft breasts and a neat, rounded bottom.  Her eyes were green, her lips ruby red and her complexion smooth and white.  He had bought Candice from a passing slave trader, just a few months ago and was really enjoying training her.  It wasn’t that she actually needed  a great deal of discipline, having been kept well under control for most of her life by an uncaring guardian, who had eventually tired of her and sold her for a handsome price to a local dealer.  The Slave Trader had whipped her very little because he knew that a perfect body tended to bring a higher price than a damaged one.

The Count liked submissive women, he loved to control them and see them tremble at his threats.  He liked to hear them call him Master and sometimes he liked to hear them scream as he punished them for some misdemeanour or other.  The Count had, had many submissive lovers, but Candice was his first slave.  It thrilled him to have complete control over this woman, to watch her kneel at his feet, to hear her beg for every little thing.  More than anything, he loved it when she did even the slightest thing wrong or didn’t obey his command instantly, because then he could punish her.  Of course, he had the power to punish her any time he wanted without reason, but somehow it was more exciting to have some valid excuse to beat his slave.
The Count had a vast choice of instruments with which to administer his punishments.  The choice of instrument was decided by the degree of disobedience.  Minor offences might result in a spanking with the hand, slipper or paddle.  Slightly, sterner beatings involved a cane to the bottom, legs and breasts.  The worst punishment that he had, had to administer so far was a whipping with a long , black leather whip, which had left Candice covered in deep red welts over her back, bottom and legs. The Count felt himself getting hard as he thought about the pleasure he had experienced, fucking his slave after that beating.  He had been particularly rough with her and she had cried a great deal, but then slaves were there to be punished weren’t they?

Although Candice seemed compliant enough, the Count had not taken any chances.  Candice always wore a leather collar, padlocked around her neck, so that the Count could attach a lead or a chain to her.  If she wasn’t in his sight or locked in a room, then at least she could be chained up securely almost anywhere in the castle.  If the Count was going away for a few days, then he also placed manacles around her wrists and shackles around her ankles.  That is how she had been left last week whilst he was away on family business.  He had no idea how she had managed to escape but he had a suspicion that one of his servants had helped her.  When he got her back he would have to “persuade” her to tell him how it had been done.

The Count closed his eyes and started to masturbate; his cock steadily growing larger  at the thought of what form that “persuasion “ might take.  Since Candice’s arrival at the castle, the Count had been busy renovating the Dungeons.  They were almost finished now and ready to be used for some advanced training sessions.  The Count let his imagination drift and was rapidly coming to a climax, when the door to the Great Hall burst open.  One of the older servants stood there panting for breath, “Master, Master, quickly we have found her.  She was hiding in a barn belonging to one of the local farmers. The footmen are bringing her back now.  The Count went over to the window and looked out.  He could not see very clearly as night was closing in, but against the dim horizon he could make out three figures; the one in the centre practically being dragged by the two on either side.  “When they get here” he scowled, “bring her straight to me”

The Count sat back in his armchair and waited.  Soon the door opened again and Candice was thrown roughly onto the floor in front of him.  With a wave of his hand he motioned to the servants to leave them alone.  He looked down at Candice as she lay quivering at his feet, her head bowed in submission.  He leaned over and grasped her by the hair, pulling her roughly up to her knees.  “Look at me”  he hissed.  “She opened her eyes slowly and looked up into his face.  Already she was beginning to cry.  She opened her mouth to speak, but the Count instantly slapped her hard across the cheek.  “Speak when you’re spoken to, wench”, he shouted.  “In a few moments I am going to take you down to the dungeons, where I shall take great pleasure in making you talk.  Now stand up”.  Slowly Candice rose to her feet; the Count also rose from his chair, and still holding Candice by the hair, he dragged her across the room and over to a small side door.  He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.  He could see Candice trembling as he led her down the long, spiral staircase which led to the dungeons, deep down below the castle.

There were no windows down here.  The only light came from oil lamps set on the walls, otherwise it was as black as night.  As they came to the bottom of the stairs, he heard Candice gasp as she saw the way he had furnished this gloomy place.

In the centre of the room, stood a long, stone table with chains at each corner.  On the cold, grey, stone walls, were manacles and fetters for the legs.  Also hanging on the walls were several whips of various shapes and sizes.  In the distance Candice could just make out another contraption or two, but there was not enough light to see clearly what they were.  She had the distinct impression though, that one of them was a rack.  She turned to her Master and fell on her knees, begging him to forgive her; but her pleas fell on deaf ears.  The Count was very angry and meant to have his revenge.

“First,” he said “I am going to punish you for running away.  Then, you are going to tell me how you got away, who helped you and why you did it.  Is that clear?”  “Yes, Master” she murmured softly, bowing her head as she spoke. But the Count detected a note of defiance in her voice.  That won’t last for long he thought to himself, knowing what he had in store for her.

The Count grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over to the stone table. “Lie face down” he ordered.  His slave obeyed.  He fastened both her arms and legs to the chains at each corner of the table.  He fastened them so tight that she could hardly move at all.  Quickly he walked over to the wall and selected one of the whips, a “cat” with long thin black leather thongs.  He walked back to his  trembling slave and suddenly realised that she was still partially clothed.  He took hold of the back of the thin, cotton dress that she was wearing and ripped it in two, exposing her beautiful, naked body to his view.

Without warning, the first blow landed across her buttocks, and Candice, taken by surprise, let out a scream. The second followed rapidly, as did the third and fourth.  By the time the Count had reached fifty strokes, poor Candice’s body was covered in red stripes, from her shoulders down to her ankles. She was crying even louder now.  “You think that was bad”, laughed the Count, “I haven’t even started yet”.

With that he released her from the table and pulled her over to the wall.  He pushed her back against the rough stone and fastened her hands and feet to the chains that hung there.  Her arms were raised high above her head and her legs were spread wide apart.  “I think perhaps I am tired of your screaming” murmured the Count, and from the far corner of the room he brought a gag.  It was made of black leather and on the inside it was fitted with a “tongue” which, when placed in the mouth, made talking, or screaming, impossible.  “Open you mouth Candice,” ordered the Count.  She did so tentatively.  “Wider,” he shouted.  This time she opened really wide and the Count placed the tongue inside her mouth and fastened it really tightly so she could not utter a sound other than a muffled moan.  Turning back to the range of instruments on the wall he selected a cane.  It was long and thin and very flexible.  The Count ran it up and down Candice’s body gently, before bringing it down hard on those beautiful breasts.  Candice moaned softly underneath the gag.  Whoosh, the cane whistled through the air as he struck her time and time again, first across one breast and then across the other, until both were red and sore and criss-crossed with stripes.

Next, the Count focused his attention lower down.  He placed his hands between her legs and felt the wetness that was oozing from her cunt.  He wasn’t sure whether to be angry that she was taking pleasure from this punishment, or pleased that she was responding no matter how badly he treated her.  For his own amusement he decided to be angry.  “So, you seem to be enjoying this.  Perhaps I am being too lenient with you.  I shall have to be a little harsher won’t I “, he whispered menacingly in her ear.  The Count stepped back and without warning, brought the cane up between Candice’s legs.  Time and time again he caned her cunt until it was swollen and turning purple.  He could see she was crying now, but he didn’t care.  It served her right for being so disobedient and disloyal.

Yes, she had been disloyal. This brought the Count’s mind back to the matter of who had helped his slave escape.  He turned to Candice and grabbed her nipples, slowly squeezing and twisting them harder and harder.  “Are you going to tell me how you managed to get away from the castle” he asked.  He could see by the look in her eyes that the answer was no.  “You will tell me sooner or later” he continued.  “And I can see that it is going to be later”.  “I do admire your loyalty though, as you know whoever helped you will most certainly be severely punished for it”  Candice still refused to give any indication that she was willing to divulge the identity of her accomplice.  “Very well then”, said the Count shaking his head, “I will just have to use some other means of persuasion.

Before releasing Candice from her chains, her Master placed a blindfold around her eyes.  He knew that it would be even more terrifying for her, not knowing what was going to happen next.  He undid the chains, and Candice almost fell to her knees with the pain that she was suffering, but the Count held her firmly.  He led her over to the far corner of the dungeon where he had placed some contraptions that he had devised himself.  Candice had been right, there was a rack there too, but the Count had decided to keep that pleasure for another day.  Something a little more severe was required tonight, in order to extract the necessary information from this disobedient, young woman.

The Count had originally designed these contraptions for some imaginative sex games, but they could easily be used just as well for torture.  Why not a combination of the two, he thought.  First he bent Candice over a type of padded bench which stood on four legs.  Her arms and legs were shackled to the four legs with her arse sticking high into the air.  The Count placed his hands on her buttocks and gently stroked both of her cheeks before pulling them apart and inserting his fingers into her tiny hole. He felt her body tense as he did this.  It was the first time that he had touched her there.  He pushed his fingers in and out several times, stretching her a little more with each thrust.  Then he reached down to where, underneath the bench, hung a dildo on a chain.  He worked this up into her arse with a few pushes.  She didn’t like this at all, he could tell from the way she was arching her back and moaning.  She would have to get to like it though, because it made the Count hard just thinking about it, and he intended it to be a regular feature of their sex play in the future.

The Count selected a leather paddle from his collection this time and proceeded to spank his slave good and proper.  Ten on the left buttock and ten on the right, then back to the left again, until both cheeks were fiery red.  Then he spanked her hard in the centre so that the dildo was pushed further up into her arse.  He could see that she was sobbing by the way her shoulders were moving up and down, but he didn’t stop until he had given her ten  more in the centre.  Whilst she was still in this exposed position, he took a long, black leather whip and gave her a good whipping on her back too.  This was a cruel whip, made of thin strands of leather plaited together, and it had a tendency to cut through the skin.  It drew blood after only a few lashes, yet still, when asked to reveal her accomplice, she refused.

The Count was becoming even more angry now.  He removed the dildo roughly and dragged his slave off that piece of equipment and over to another.  This one consisted of a board hanging from the ceiling by two chains attached to pulleys.  A  metal collar was at the top of the board, into which the Count fastened his slaves neck.  Her hands were placed into metal bands protruding from each side of the board and a metal belt clipped around her waist, making movement of her upper body impossible. The board stopped just below Candice’s waist and two more chains hung from the sides near the bottom of the board.  Each chain had a shackle which was attached to each of Candice’s ankles.  The lower chains were attached to a pulley in the ceiling and when the Count pulled on the other side of the pulley, the bottom of the board, and Candice, were hoisted into the air.  This resulted in Candice laying horizontal at about shoulder height to the Count.  By adjusting the chains on the pulleys, the Count brought her down to just below the level of his waist.

Her bottom was so beautifully exposed and the dildo had stretched her hole sufficiently for easy entry.  The Count could not resist, he unlaced his trousers and fucked her arse, faster and faster with strong hard thrusts, until he came inside her in a frenzy of excitement.  This was the first time he had fucked her arse, and he had no way of telling whether she liked or loathed it.  She was unable to move or make a sound, and she was entirely within his power.  It was this feeling of total domination that the Count loved so much.  Having satisfied himself, for the time being anyway, he continued with his slaves punishment.

He chose a strap which although was quite thin in width, was made of very thick leather making it fairly heavy.  The first blows were to the buttocks, but he continued   up onto the thighs and the lower part of the legs.  On and on he continued.  Although her upper body could not move, her legs were jerking frantically with each blow, making the board swing backwards and forwards.  The Count timed his blows to coincide with this swinging movement, giving extra force to each stroke.  Finally, he felt that she must be ready to confess.  Once more he asked if she was willing to tell him who had helped her escape and this time she nodded as best she could.  He removed the gag and allowed her to whisper the name amidst the sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Master” she cried, “I’ll never do anything like that again”. “I’m certain you won’t,” smiled the Count.  “In future, I think I shall have to take you with me whenever I leave the castle or better still, I shall leave you chained down here where only I have the keys to.”  Seeing the look of horror on her face he laughed.   He suddenly felt compassion for his little slave. After all. she was his and he loved her still.  He released her from her bonds and carried her up to his bed.  He had missed her whilst he had been away and once she was rested from her ordeal, he meant to make up for lost time. Tomorrow he would take her back down to the dungeon again and question her about why she had run away.  The Count slept well that night, once more a happy man.