Afghan Bound

Afghan Bound
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ISBN:  9781907753909
Author:  Henry Morgan
Word Count:  63,063
Format:  eBook



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'Now then, my little temptress. I want you to perform oral sex on me. Have you ever done it before?'
   She knelt between his feet, a hot blush upon her cheeks. 'No... never.'
   'Never, master,' he insisted, letting her feel the tawse across her raised bottom. 'Never, master.'
   She felt a tear rise but forced it away. She wouldn't let him break her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her crying. 'Never... master,' she whispered.
   ‘Good. You may begin.’

Involved in voluntary medical work abroad, David Harper finds himself caught up in the Afghanistan war, and his adventures there bring him in close contact with the cruel treatment of prisoners.

Escaping death by inches he finds himself in Pakistan, where he witnesses captured slaves displayed for pleasure in a nightclub and learns that, properly trained, women can find immense pleasure too.

Returning to England he is introduced to submissive women, and sells his share in a medical practice to create a training centre. All is going very well - until one particular woman turns the tables on him...

Emily was still asleep when David awoke the following morning. He looked admiring down at her peaceful form, and suddenly gave her backside an almighty slap. She woke with a startled yelp.
   'Where—? Wha-what did you do that for?'
   David landed another harder hand across her bottom. 'Avert your eyes,' he commanded. 'The honeymoon's over.'
   He unclipped the lead and took her into the bathroom, her hands rubbing the sting from her cheeks as she went.
   'Get yourself washed and do anything else you have to do,' he ordered. 'It's time for your morning exercise.'
  While Emily performed her ablutions David laid out the dress she had worn the previous day. 'Put that on,' he told her, 'and remove your cuffs.' She handed him the restraints and he put them aside ready for their return, then changed her collar for one made simply of rubber which looked like a normal choker. There were still loops where a lead could be attached, but they were more discreet than those on the collar.
   'Where are we going?' asked Emily, her eyes turned to the floor.
   David grinned broadly. 'To the beach.'
   It wasn't a warm morning and her light dress offered little protection against the cold. Along the pebble-strewn path he marched her until they came across a rowing-boat anchored amongst some rocks.
   'Here we are,' said David, pulling the craft towards the surf. He was confident she wouldn't make a dash for it while he was busy; she had no idea where she was, she was wearing nothing more than a flimsy cotton dress, she had no shoes, and no money. Whereas he was fit, he knew the area well, and he ominously carried the sjambok. How could she possibly get away from him? 'Jump in.'
   With great trepidation Emily climbed into the boat. Out he rowed, seemingly forever, until Camelot looked no more than just another pebble on the beach.
   'Over you go.'
   'Don't be silly,' she said with a nervous smile. 'We're miles out. Besides, the water's freezing.'
   Before she had time to defend herself David lashed her thigh with the whip. Emily grimaced at the pain - pain made worse by the chilly morning air. Her shriek disturbed some seagulls bobbing gently on the swell, and they squawked into flight as her anguish floated away on the wind.
   'Take off your clothes and get into the water.'
   He wasn't messing. 'I can't,' she begged. 'I just - no please, don't whip me agai—!' The second lash caught her an inch above the first, making her jump to her feet and rub at the stinging flesh. The boat pitched and yawed as she frantically tried to bring some blood back to the searing skin. Two burning red souvenirs ran along her thigh, stinging, pulsating, pleading with her to do as he ordered.
   She reluctantly removed her dress, and then optimistically asked for a swimming costume.
  'Not just yet,' he said. He tapped her bare quim with the tip of the whip. 'Stubble is for lazy girls - make sure you're smooth every morning, like the Venus de Milo.' With that he nodded at the sea.
   The freezing water trapped the gurgled expletive in Emily's throat. Her eyes and mouth were awash with salt water. By the time she surfaced from her initial plunge she was gasping to fill her lungs with clean air. David was ten yards away, pulling hard on the oars in the direction of the beach. She screamed at him not to leave her, but he didn't react. The only thing she could do was strike out after him.
   There was still some way to go when Emily started to get into difficulties. David however paid no heed to her desperate cries for help. He simply shouted to her about how fit and trim she would be by the time she left, and how it was his duty to make sure she was.
  He was waiting with a towel when she finally reached land, exhausted and gasping for oxygen. He wrapped her up and immediately took her back to the warmth of the cottage, saying he would take her out further the next day.
   He dried and warmed her in a large fluffy towel. The restraints were put back on and she was shackled by the collar to one of the many metal rings cemented into the walls. He fetched some breakfast and sat to watch her eat. Her nipples were still erect from the cold, standing out proudly; just as they would when he put the studs through them later. He leant across and tweaked them further still. Emily appeared oblivious to the touch, and carried on eating her cereal. She never even flinched when he pinched the buds hard between finger and thumb. She was learning fast.
   'I'm going to pierce these later,' he informed her in a calmly matter of fact manner.
   She stopped eating then and looked up with wide eyes that disclosed curiosity as much as alarm.
   She lowered her gaze immediately. 'Will it hurt?' Her voice was soft and suppliant.
   David continued to coax her nipples. 'There will be a slight sting, yes. But don't worry, I'll use plenty of anaesthetic.'
   He was pleased she didn't question his methods further, and noted only a slight agitation when he snapped a lead to her collar and led her to a door beneath the stairs.
   Down a twisting flight of ancient stone steps he led her, into the deepest recesses of the Cornish cliff. Eventually the corridor opened into a large cavern floored with flagstones. In places it was lit well by the beams from several spot lamps. In other areas lurked shadow and total darkness.
   'It seems the old captain had a penchant for smuggling,' he laughed. 'These floors must have been choc-a-bloc with barrels of brandy, or tobacco, or silks. Nothing changes, except maybe the goods.'
   Contraband no longer occupied the grotto. It had long since gone to be replaced by straps and chains, irons and belts, polished steel, shiny leather, matt black rubber - all pristine and gleaming. David yanked Emily's collar-chain, and positioned her on a low podium. With the speed of a practised hand he tossed the lead over a suspended bar, effectively preventing her from moving.
   'What are you going to do to me?'
   David ignored the question. He snapped a body ring about her waist and secured her wrists into the cuffs attached to its sides.
   'You don't have to do that,' whispered Emily. 'I'll do whatever you say, I promise.'
   Although secretly delighted with the way she was already responding, he continued to ignore her and diligently continued his work. He followed the fettering of her wrists with the clamping of shackles to her ankles. It was a simple task; even if she had wanted to kick out it was impossible because the lead about her neck pulled her up onto her toes.
   David was aware of her watching his every move as he collected a metal device and a length of chain from a display on the wall. They sparkled and glistened as he passed under the light beams into the darkness and once more into the light. If Emily knew more about the twilight world of sexual slavery she would have recognised the infamous Daisy clamps. David stood in front of his slave, but resisted attaching the clamps straight away. Instead he lowered from the ceiling a device made from two wheels connected to each other with gears. From one hung a weight. To one wheel he connected the Daisy clamps and to the other, the one with the weight, he connected what looked like a horse's bit. When that was done he pulled the apparatus back up to the ceiling, leaving the clamps and the bit dangling in front of her. Emily seemed quietly resolved.
   'I need to stretch your nipples,' offered David, like a doctor informing his patient about a simple operation, 'to make it easier to get the pins through. It'll help you too. Okay?'
   Despite the tears that sparkled like diamonds in her eyes, she nodded.
   'Good girl. Now, I have a little test for you, Emily.' He took hold of one of the nipple clamps and held it in front of her face. 'Do you know what these are?' he asked.
   'No,' she sniffled.
   David squeezed the pincers open. 'They're nipple clamps. They're to stretch your darling buds, like I told you. I'm going to put them on now - I don't want to hear any complaints,' he warned. 'Do you understand?'
   Emily nodded again.
  He snapped the Daisy onto her nipple. Her neck arched and her head fell back. Her breasts swelled as her lungs filled with a bravely stifled scream, but she was unable to prevent a guttural moan when the second clamp bit into her tender nipple. Both erect buds were stretched obscenely by the pull of the instruments.
   David gently stroked her flat stomach. He could feel her rigid muscles. 'Well done,' he soothed. 'You're doing extremely well.' Held up the leather bit.
   'Open your mouth,' he said. Automatically she did as she was told, and he pushed the bit between her teeth. 'Bite it.'
   The nipple clamps and the bit teased Emily up on to her toes.
   'The bit,' David continued and pointed, 'is attached to that weight. Every time you let it slip or try to release it, the weight will shift down a cog, and every time the weight shifts down a cog, the clamps will pull harder on your nipples. And,' he added, 'once the cog has moved it is impossible to lift the load again by pulling on the bit. My advice is to maintain a firm grip. Now take the strain, I'm going to release the weight.' He took his hand away and watched Emily's chin instantly stretch towards the ceiling as she tried to prevent the metal pendulum from falling too far. Despite her efforts the wheel slipped one cog, stretching her nipples an agonising fraction. She could not scream or protest; to open her mouth now would send the heavy weight crashing to the floor, and probably her flesh with it. David smiled as she strained further on tiptoe, trying to ease the tension in her nipples. By doing so she inadvertently inched her upturned face nearer the wheel, which allowed it to slip another cog, instantly pinching her nipples higher. With her nipples drawn thus the temptation would be to stretch up even more to ease the tension, but of course that would mean another slipped cog. David knew she was in an awful quandary. It was a vicious circle made all the worse because she was now on tiptoe; if she tried to ease the ache in her calves by lowering her heels she would pull harder on her sore teats.
   'It's a tricky one, I know,' said David. 'But I'm sure you'll get the hang of it.' He left the cavern. His shoes echoed on the worn stone steps. Flicking the light switch at the top he plunged Emily into total and all enveloping darkness, as complete as if she was wearing a blindfold. She was alone, with nothing to detract from the excruciating discomfort but her thoughts.
   David went to the kitchen and made himself a coffee, imagining the whole time her contemplating the predicament she had so willingly walked into. The silent darkness would amplify her solitude. She would have no conception of time, for one can only trace time when there is light; the light of the sun or the moon, or a flame with which to see a timepiece. Down in the cavern there was nothing. No tick of a clock, or shortening and lengthening shadows. No familiar daily occurrences which are taken for granted, but which tell the subconscious the time; the clinking of milk bottles, letters flopping onto the mat, children shrieking on their way to or from school, favourite programmes on the radio... Nothing.
   He knew it would be getting harder to keep a grip on the bit as her saliva built up. She would consider letting it go - but would have the sense not to. She would try to rest on her heels, but the persistent jaws would prevent such foolishness. She would probably sob a little, but even the slightest rock of her shoulders would bring the nip of the Daisies.
   David had a little light lunch, washed up, and then checked his watch. By now Emily should have realised beyond any doubt that if she wanted to see the month through with as little pain as possible she would have to comply with his every whim, and adhere to their contract.
   David flicked the switch and descended the steps. Emily was clearly overwhelmed with relief at the sound of his footsteps. He removed the bit and the Daisy clamps, and she appeared genuinely delighted to see him as she blinked and her eyes grew accustomed to the light. He bent and released the ankle restraints, and then helped her stiff body down from the plinth and led her to a stool beside a workbench.
   It was now mid-afternoon, and her nipples were ready for the needle.
   He sprayed the tip of each breast with a local anaesthetic, and then picked up the piercing gun. Emily screwed her eyes tight as he pulled hard on her right nipple and fired a metal rod through its centre. She squirmed a little on the stool, but before she had time to do anything else he reloaded and pierced her left nipple. He left her a moment to get used to the numbed sensation, and then lifted each breast in turn and attached a silver orb to either end of the pins. He was secretly a little relieved; he had just completed his first ever piercing. He stepped back to admire his handiwork.
   'They look superb,' he assured her. 'Absolutely magnificent.'
Average Rating (4 Reviews):  
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Plenty of the taboo
Saturday, 5 July 2014  | 

This was a very unique plot that kept me reading. There were parts that made me frown and skipped through the section, but that was just because of my personal beliefs. But overall, this was an interesting read once I got over the "taboo" parts.

This book is definitely worth reading. So give it a try.

afghan bound
Friday, 6 December 2013  | 

Thanks very much, good book, great service, books getting better all the time.

Flaming Hot!!
Wednesday, 9 June 2010  | 

If you've never read erotic literature before, as I hadn't, this is the book for you. One read of this book and you're hooked!! Having bought the book in New York to read on the plane coming home, it gave me a whole new meaning to the word prisoner. It also has an unexpected twist to the end. You'll never get sick of reading it - trust me I've read it several times. This is a brilliant book, that appeals to both men and women. A great first insight to the world of erotic fiction!! Could be your insight too....?

Only A Woman
Thursday, 15 April 2010  | 

Having secretly read Anais Nin under the covers at boarding school, I have always been attracted to the world of erotic fiction and rather enjoyed the naughty goings on in Afghan Bound. If I have any criticism at all it is that the male writer needs to learn a little more about the emotional life of the female. Then, I'm only a woman.

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