Thread: The Amazon's Prize (PsionicCuttlefish & Madam Mim)

Bardon figured that this woman was going to try and 'punish' him after he refused her commands. When she spoke to another one of the menslaves, Bardon listened carefully. A switch and a 'mushroom'? A switch didn't sound so bad, but a mushroom...was she going to poison him? Bardon snorted at the thought. Well, at least he'd die proud and unbroken. Bardon tried not to react when she tore his shirt off and threw it to another manslave, and steeled himself for what was to come. When the bite of the switch tasted his skin, he closed his eyes and firmly clamped his mouth shut. The blows stung, but they actually weren't that bad. Bardon disliked pain as much as the next guy, but he'd suffered worse in fights before. Really, it was more his pride that was being harmed, having his skin marked by a woman like this. He hated it. By the tenth strike, he had only huffed slightly, and then...nothing else came. He cracked an eye open. That was it? That was hardly anything. His ego promptly rose a bit. If that was the best a woman could do, he didn't have anything to fear. Meanwhile, Jarrad, the man who was sewing some of Noriam's clothes and had caught Bardon's ripped shirt, shuffled in place restlessly as he watched Bardon's punishment out of the corner of his eye. Noriam knew that of her menslaves, Jarrad got off the most from the switch, and was always jealous when it was used on someone else. While Bardon was praising himself, he suddenly found Noriam in his face again, as in literally grabbing his face. He perfunctorily tried to struggle, but she was still damned stronger than he was, and succeedd in forcing his jaw open and shoving the mushroom down his throat. Bardon tried to spit it out, but Noraim was clearly prepared for that and prevented it, and Bardon had no choice but to swallow or choke. Bardon immediately tried to brace himself for whatever kind of burning posion she could possibly have just put him in, even if it was probably deadly. Well...braced for every kind of 'burning', except one. He felt the heat begin to rise inside of him, and he closed his eyes, ready for the end with the posion to eat him from the inside...except he didn't feel any pain. Rather, he felt...unusually good. Bardon looked down, and gasped slightly. His rod was quickly hardening beneath his pants, and Bardon could feel his loins beginning to desire satisfaction. Bardon could not say he expected anything like this, as Noraim told him he'd be under its influence for 'several hours'. He actually felt the smallest pang of worry and doubt, but he was still mostly certain that he could withstand this as well. He couldn't let a woman get the better of him...he couldn't. In short order, Bardon was taken outside and shoved into a cage, and locked in while still bound in such a way as he couldn't use his hands on himself. The good feeling wasn't too 'bad' yet, but he could feel his body gradually get hotter with arousal. Bardon did the only thing he could, and took deep, controlled breaths to try and retain mastery of his own body. He only took vauge notice of the approaching girl, aside from recognizing that she had similar features to Noriam. Damon, meanwhile, finally finished his labor of carving up the tuskcharger and separating its hide, meat, and bones for the other men to process. It was indeed hard work for him, tuskchargers were quite tough, and Damon wiped sweat from his brow from having done the work so quickly. He got up and approached Noriam, giving her the especially respectful address by first touching the collar around his neck, then getting to his knees and bowing to the ground for her. I have finished the task you gave me, Mistress Noriam. I hope it pleases you.