-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
Messaline In The Wild West
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
would be a pity and abuse of that seagram
we toooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOh, I'm sure that it will be, in a way or in other... I trust Tree....
I think that was a different tread so it does not apply here (though still in your jurisdiction)...i'm a bit confused she was crucified some time ago.........................in the roman way......................thought so
t
Bull ravaged Messaline and tears ran down her face. Due to the gag (that would be available almost two centuries later from Nailus Martyrs as the ‘Messaline Ball Gag’) it was assumed that Messaline was in shear agony. Quite to the contrary she was being overwhelmed by waves of orgasms. Bull was true to his word… his savage penetration hurt at first but Messaline came (and came… and came) before he did.
The young French woman lived a relatively pampered life, and while her step-father Admi (a notorious Dutch slave trader) continued to try to marry her off presenting her as virgin, the truth was quite different. Messaline enjoyed sex. She was not straight, lesbian, or bi-sexual. She was sexuality personified.
The bound forced intercourse she experienced with Bull would be considered a rape by many women to Messaline it was a new liberating experience. While meant as punishment she felt only ecstasy though she would not let on. Next she was taken to the stone cellar where the coffee, hops, and barley were ground.
A slave bard named Eulalia was very distraught as she was chained to the wall and Messaline took her place at the grind wheel. Tears streamed down Eulalia’s face as Mistresses Melissa and Jul took turns flogging the blond woman. Melissa noticed and demanded “What is your problem?”
“Nothing, Mistress” Eulalia whimpered.
“A slave does not lie to her mistress” Melissa admonished.
“I am sorry, Mistress. I can only hope you will punish me for my error. I am afraid you are replacing me.”
“We are trying a French roast grind. Tree will be by later to try it with his vile distilled spirits. If he tastes the difference you may no longer be necessary.”
tree
The young French woman lived a relatively pampered life, and while her step-father Admi (a notorious Dutch slave trader) continued to try to marry her off presenting her as virgin, the truth was quite different. Messaline enjoyed sex. She was not straight, lesbian, or bi-sexual. She was sexuality personified.
The bound forced intercourse she experienced with Bull would be considered a rape by many women to Messaline it was a new liberating experience. While meant as punishment she felt only ecstasy though she would not let on. Next she was taken to the stone cellar where the coffee, hops, and barley were ground.
A slave bard named Eulalia was very distraught as she was chained to the wall and Messaline took her place at the grind wheel. Tears streamed down Eulalia’s face as Mistresses Melissa and Jul took turns flogging the blond woman. Melissa noticed and demanded “What is your problem?”
“Nothing, Mistress” Eulalia whimpered.
“A slave does not lie to her mistress” Melissa admonished.
“I am sorry, Mistress. I can only hope you will punish me for my error. I am afraid you are replacing me.”
“We are trying a French roast grind. Tree will be by later to try it with his vile distilled spirits. If he tastes the difference you may no longer be necessary.”
tree
The coffee-grinding slave bard Eulalia was despondent that the new slave might replace her. She envisioned being bound to a roadside fruit stand and being sold on the ‘honor system’; her mistress suggesting a price and with any luck whoever took her would actually leave the money. It was not an uncommon practice to rid a master or mistress of an unnecessary slave.
In those days there was an honesty not always found these days and if Eulalia was taken there would be either money left or an IOU that would actually be repaid. Of course the local boys and often girls would ‘practice’ their new found sexuality on the helpless slave girl.
Tree climbed off his horse and went into what was the precursor of today’s coffee shop. Sitting on the porch He ordered a half cup of coffee. Melissa brought it to him and cringed yet again when he topped it with whiskey from his flask. Tree took a drink then spat it over the rail and tossed the rest of the cup behind it. He filled a glass with whiskey, rolled a cigarette and lit it.
In a gravelly growl he said “I paid for ‘Eulalia Extraordinary Grind’. If I want to drink whiskey and piss I could have done it at home.
Eulalia’s ‘job’ was safe… but what would become of the French woman Messaline?”
t
...with thanks to MH for the Eul figure...
In those days there was an honesty not always found these days and if Eulalia was taken there would be either money left or an IOU that would actually be repaid. Of course the local boys and often girls would ‘practice’ their new found sexuality on the helpless slave girl.
Tree climbed off his horse and went into what was the precursor of today’s coffee shop. Sitting on the porch He ordered a half cup of coffee. Melissa brought it to him and cringed yet again when he topped it with whiskey from his flask. Tree took a drink then spat it over the rail and tossed the rest of the cup behind it. He filled a glass with whiskey, rolled a cigarette and lit it.
In a gravelly growl he said “I paid for ‘Eulalia Extraordinary Grind’. If I want to drink whiskey and piss I could have done it at home.
Eulalia’s ‘job’ was safe… but what would become of the French woman Messaline?”
t
...with thanks to MH for the Eul figure...
t
The Order of Penance and Punishment (later to be known as the OPP) are building their abbey and convent on the ridge across from my ranch. We help them build it; that’s what neighbors do.
Melissa suggests I just shoot the French slave Messaline as she cannot even grind coffee. I protest asking why I should waste a bullet on the worthless mare when I have an organically grown hemp rope noose that we could string her up with. We finally decided we would take Messaline to the fledgling abbey and convent. Of course the whole discussion took place in front of her and she was beginning to question the wisdom of her request to visit this small village on the Meramec River.
I bound her and dressed her in her fancy French stockings and shoes that would decades later evolve into what would be called simply high heels.
“You ready to go, Messaline?’ I asked.
“Do I have any say in this?” she answered in an angry voice that still sounded sexy with her heavy French accent.
“Nope”
“Then let’s get on with it”
I took her outside where my horse was hitched and took a rope from the saddle horn. I tied off one end to the saddle and the other around her neck. She glared at me as I cinched the knot. “What, you didn’t think you were going to ride, did you?”
“I should be so lucky. Your rope is scratchy.”
“Get over it” I said as I hopped into the saddle and led her out of the village. Like many early settlements the first attempt was built far too close to the river and was gradually move back closer to the mines and farther from the river to avoid the floods. Clear of the village and near the bank where the remains of the washed away low-water bridge stood I reached down and hoisted Messaline up onto the saddle in front of me. While the horse forded the river Messaline said to me “Thank you, my feet were hurting.”
I didn’t tell her an oriental man had paid me a handsome sum to get her to Washington Landing, a ferry crossing on the Missouri River that would later be known as Washington, Mo., and we were days ahead of schedule. That’s why I granted her the unusual request she had made and was beginning to regret…
T
Melissa suggests I just shoot the French slave Messaline as she cannot even grind coffee. I protest asking why I should waste a bullet on the worthless mare when I have an organically grown hemp rope noose that we could string her up with. We finally decided we would take Messaline to the fledgling abbey and convent. Of course the whole discussion took place in front of her and she was beginning to question the wisdom of her request to visit this small village on the Meramec River.
I bound her and dressed her in her fancy French stockings and shoes that would decades later evolve into what would be called simply high heels.
“You ready to go, Messaline?’ I asked.
“Do I have any say in this?” she answered in an angry voice that still sounded sexy with her heavy French accent.
“Nope”
“Then let’s get on with it”
I took her outside where my horse was hitched and took a rope from the saddle horn. I tied off one end to the saddle and the other around her neck. She glared at me as I cinched the knot. “What, you didn’t think you were going to ride, did you?”
“I should be so lucky. Your rope is scratchy.”
“Get over it” I said as I hopped into the saddle and led her out of the village. Like many early settlements the first attempt was built far too close to the river and was gradually move back closer to the mines and farther from the river to avoid the floods. Clear of the village and near the bank where the remains of the washed away low-water bridge stood I reached down and hoisted Messaline up onto the saddle in front of me. While the horse forded the river Messaline said to me “Thank you, my feet were hurting.”
I didn’t tell her an oriental man had paid me a handsome sum to get her to Washington Landing, a ferry crossing on the Missouri River that would later be known as Washington, Mo., and we were days ahead of schedule. That’s why I granted her the unusual request she had made and was beginning to regret…
T
Tree has just come in from clearing the drive from yet another snow. This isn't really part of the story. Just wanted to wish you all a safe and happy Valentines day. Sometimes we forget to punish our slaves forget to tell the ones we love that we do indeed love them...
t
...what, Ulrika??? ...shut up, bitch!!!!
t
...what, Ulrika??? ...shut up, bitch!!!!
Tree’s motivations for giving Messaline a ride to the OPP was hardly benevolent, even beyond the princely sum of $200 dollars. Tree was one of the few who knew what went on inside the walls of the convent and Messaline would need all her strength to be in any shape when she was to take the next part of her journey. His flask was nearly empty and would be long before he dropped Messaline off at the OOP if she walked the whole way.
When they arrived at the OPP Tree was advised the friars and sisters were in vespers. Tree knew that meant they were fucking their brains out. He wasn’t about to wait an hour for them to finish so he left Messaline by the entrance…
Lest you think Tree was mistreating Messaline she watched him ride off to his ranch. As soon as he was out of sight Messaline began to ‘hump’ the tree’s trunk hoping what Tree had told her what would happen to her at the OPP was true…
t
When they arrived at the OPP Tree was advised the friars and sisters were in vespers. Tree knew that meant they were fucking their brains out. He wasn’t about to wait an hour for them to finish so he left Messaline by the entrance…
Lest you think Tree was mistreating Messaline she watched him ride off to his ranch. As soon as he was out of sight Messaline began to ‘hump’ the tree’s trunk hoping what Tree had told her what would happen to her at the OPP was true…
t
P
Pia
Guest
Wow - Valentina Vargas - I love her in that film... but if I'd been her I would have stayed chained to my stake and enjoyed the flames I think.... yummmy!And there, is Messaline could do that ?
View attachment 102355
"No,I dont think so...!"View attachment 102356
There is much to come for this free spirit (if not body) to explore before she continues her trip west across the continent...
t
t
Tree cannot control the actions of the Dutch Neanderthal....
but this I can...
Having left Messaline at the ‘penitent’ drop-off post Tree rode the short distance to his ranch. He put his horse in the barn where an English immigrant named Dorothy would take very good care of him.
(This being the early 1800’s there are no photographs of her ‘grooming’ the horse but trust your narrator it was epic.)
Meanwhile, Mother Superior came out to retrieve Messaline. She fitted her with tall sandals and led her to the abbey.
“Where are you taking me” Messaline asked.
“Not that you deserve to know there… well… You’ll find out.”
I’m not sure I want to…
t
but this I can...
Having left Messaline at the ‘penitent’ drop-off post Tree rode the short distance to his ranch. He put his horse in the barn where an English immigrant named Dorothy would take very good care of him.
(This being the early 1800’s there are no photographs of her ‘grooming’ the horse but trust your narrator it was epic.)
Meanwhile, Mother Superior came out to retrieve Messaline. She fitted her with tall sandals and led her to the abbey.
“Where are you taking me” Messaline asked.
“Not that you deserve to know there… well… You’ll find out.”
I’m not sure I want to…
t
