Author Unknown

Illustrations by Robert Bishop

Scanned and Transcribed by guardian46w

With this in view, he carried her over to a square post near the center of this subjugation dungeon, seated her astride the saddle—of hard leather, and at once drew her slim ankles down to two horizontal pegs, one fitting into each side of this post nearly at its base; cording her ankles tightly to the pegs, having first lowered a thin strong pulley rope to tie to the ring atop of the punishment helmet to balance her without the risk of falling.  Jack Brandon next proceeded to draw off the single-glove restraint device and to fix her wrists to the same pegs to which her ankles were so snugly corded.  Thus, Myrna's body was salaciously posed, legs hugely spread by the uncomfortable leather saddle, gaping the pink cleft of her tempting virginity, and with her arms drawn back and down, her superb naked pear shaped tightly spaced titties projected out in the most exciting, taut way, till the dusky nipples seemed to stand out as if yearning for caresses.

"Mffahhahahh!" she moaned, miserably conscious of the exposure of her most intimate self, her shoulder, arm and leg muscles tortured by this pose, the saddle chafing her still burning naked buttocks.

Going to a nearby tabouret, Jack Brandon picked up a pair of manicure tweezers and a thin whippy whalebone switch, made from an old corset stay, and whisked it through the air as he slowly approached the straddled, distended creamy body of his captive.

"You are much too vulgarly adorned between your long lovely legs, my slave-girl-to-be," he declared, "so I propose to remedy that."

So saying, he reached his left hand out, applied the tweezers's jaws to a sprig of pussy hair and, even as she started convulsively with a wild moan of shame and fear, yanked it out.  Myrna's body jerked frenziedly, but at once the switch in his right hand leaped out to flick across her left breast, just under the nipple.  A raucous groan escaped the sufferer; her body again violently jerked, her titties jiggling lubricious, while long flexions spasmed her beautiful long sleek thighs.

Slowly, deliberately, ignoring her muffled wails and shrieks, Jack Brandon depilated the naked heiress, till her mount resembled that of a baby's, hairless—save that the angry red chafing marks showed on the sensitive flesh of the crotch, and these were matched by the dozen or more bright pink thin streaks left by the whalebone switch as it capriciously flicked over her belly, her naked breasts, her upper thighs, till her face was drenched with tears and her moans were unending.

"Now I think you are ready to be reserved in subjugation," he declared.  By now, if he had only given her the chance to speak, Myrna Gentry would have tearfully avowed her readiness to do anything in the world he wanted if only he would stop; but even though he sensed this, the expert bondage master had resolved to follow his program to the—for Myrna!—bitter, agonizing end.

Accordingly, letting her down from the saddle, he doffed her pumps, fitted her with ankle-length heavy leather boots with rings set into the toepieces, and hung her by ceiling pulley cords head downwards, using the rings for tight knotting of the cords and finding them capable of bearing her weight.  Next, he stood on a stool and lifted her torso up so that her head and shoulders were forced between her gaping knees; her arms were then pulled round behind her thighs and shackled to them.

Her wails and sobs were audible now through the punishment helmet; her spanked bottom, her depilated pussy and the whalebone switching of inner thighs, breasts and belly had left her feminine nervous system in chaotic disarray; she was no longer mistress of herself, but ready to abdicate at once from her enthroned superiority over the male but he was not yet ready to accept her abdication!