Garden of the Arcane Delights by Jenn World Events Productions disclaimer applies; all other characters are mine Ramla and the witches of her village gathered around the scaffold for the monthly slave auction in the Town Square. For a planet inhabited only by women it was necessary to bring in the finest young males who could serve the witches in ways they could not serve themselves. The new slaves, stripped completely naked so they might be properly inspected, marched onto the platform in silver handcuffs and ankle cuffs. Ah, there was the distinguished slave, son of King Zarkon of Planet Doom. Zarkon hadn't known what he was getting the poor boy into, did he? Ramla smiled to herself. What a gorgeous specimen Prince Lotor was. She would have him. He exuded arrogance as he held his head high in the burning red sunlight of the witch planet. He knew he was beautiful; that much was evident. And he had every reason. Waves and waves of white hair tumbled down his back, framing an exquisitely-formed angelic face from which catlike, lemon-yellow eyes flashed with malice for those who held him captive. His skin was cerulean blue, smooth; his body that of a warrior and comprised of nothing but muscle. Look at that massive chest, those brawny shoulders and strong thighs. He would make a fine slave indeed. Ramla's gaze traveled up and down Lotor's body. Very, very nice, she thought, her attention seized by the long, thick cock between his legs. A more perfect slave had never been brought to their planet. "I am a prince!" Lotor bellowed. "I am the Crown Prince of Planet Doom--" Ramla stepped up to the scaffold. "You, Lotor, have been sent here by your father to be taught a lesson in humility, and it appears he did the right thing. You will not speak unless spoken to. You are not a prince here. You've earned your first punishment. Turn around." "I will not turn around," Lotor growled. Ramla walked up the steps, taking a thonged leather paddle from the slave mistress. Lotor towered over her, as well as over every other slave, but she was a powerful witch and he knew it. Still, he was under the influence of conceit. "I'll conquer this planet," he hissed. "I'll--" Ramla lashed his buttocks with the paddle; Lotor's body jerked at the suddenness of it. "How dare you!" he roared. She struck him again, over and over, beating the taut muscular globes until they blushed a deep crimson. The witches applauded in approval. "You are a slave, Lotor. Accept that and your castigation will be that much easier to bear." He glared at her in silence. "A vast improvement, my pretty slave. I hereby bid a month's allotment of bread for Lotor. Can anyone do better?" Not one witch so much as blinked. "Excellent. He is sold." Ramla buckled a black leather collar around Lotor's neck that forced his head up, and affixed her leash to the ring. "Come along." "Bread?" Lotor cried. "I am worth far more than bread!" "Slow to learn, aren't you?" She whipped the luscious blue buttocks five more times, Lotor's body tensing with each blow. His face turned as scarlet as those other cheeks. The sea of witches parted to let them through, all eyes cast in envy upon Ramla and her prize as she led him from the square. He needed extensive training, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Pride was an emotion easily broken in someone forced to serve the way this young man would be. This place certainly wasn't Castle Doom. Quite a modest home for a witch of Ramla's magnitude, but comfortable. The sofa looked very inviting, for Lotor had been standing all day, yet his backside still smarted, so sitting was out of the question. When was she going to give him his damned clothes? He'd kill his father for this, he's slash him to bits in the arena-- "You should rest," the witch said. "You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow at the Pony Show." "The what!" "I will be more lenient with you in the privacy of my home than out in public. The Pony Show is an event during which all the new slaves that were bought at the auction are shown off. If you are very good, you'll get a reward." "But I am a prince!" Ramla swatted him again, this time with the palm of her hand, stinging his already sore buttocks with a resounding smack. They hadn't stopped burning since the first beating. "This is an outrage!" The witch's ruby lips parted in a smile. She was very beautiful, with rich chestnut hair falling to her waist and creamy skin, but she wasn't his beloved Allura. "And what will you do about it? Do you think Haggar will save you? She and I go back many years, and she knows her powers are but a fraction of mine. Now then, my lovely slave, let's get you settled in for the night, shall we? First . . . " Ramla shoved a black rubber ball, attached to a leather gag, into Lotor's mouth and buckled it behind his head. "Such a welcome change!" Ramla laughed. "You suck on that for a while, darling." She dragged him by the leash to a bar suspended from the ceiling by a heavy steel chain, then strapped each of his wrists into a restraint and chained them to the bar. "You stupid wench!" Lotor screamed against the gag. Ramla locked each of his ankles into leather cuffs attached to a spreader bar, forcing his legs a full three feet apart. "I entertain guests at all hours," she said. "Most will be wanting to see my new pet. And there is one more thing you must know." Ramla, to Lotor's horror, lifted his cock with one hand and stroked it with the other. "You must always be ready for service." Service? That was the service she meant? Lotor struggled against the restraints, knowing it was futile. "Think of the women in your harem who have been made to feel like whores for your pleasure. You are the whore now, pretty one. Here you will learn to respect women. And we'll deflate that ego of yours a tad." Ramla ran her fingers over Lotor's nipples; his cock hardened until it was fully erect, much to his dismay. He couldn't resist the touch of a beautiful woman, even if it wasn't Allura. "Perfect. No wonder you're such a proud young man! Not for long though, my pet." Then she left him. He'd never been so completely helpless. Curse his father! Such an evil trick, a plot to keep him from Allura and from the throne that was rightfully his . . . Several hours passed. With his shoulder muscles aching and his jaw sore, his head finally drooped in exhaustion. In a haze of half-sleep he heard soft female laughter. Fingers crept over his skin, teased the head of his cock. He groaned behind the gag and moved his hips forward a little, silently pleading for relief. Down his spine, between his buttocks and up inside . . . Lotor sighed, too tired to try resisting. His muscles relaxed, and because he could do nothing else he let the witches touch him with greedy hands as the murmur of their voices lulled him back to sleep. Bright and early the next morning Ramla returned with the key to unlock Lotor's restraints. His arms screamed in torment and flopped listlessly to his sides, thankful for the chance to rest. Ramla then unfastened the ball gag, and Lotor worked his jaw muscles side to side to ease the ache. "My friends tell me you were a good boy last night. Very complacent." "I didn't have much choice, did I?" "But you didn't try to fight, either. And if you continue your good behavior, I will give you a great reward." "Freedom?" Ramla laughed. "Not yet, you silly boy. Now let's get you ready for the show. Girls!" Five young witches emerged like cockroaches from various rooms within the house. No doubt they'd had their way with him last night as well. "Give our slave some braids in his pretty hair." "Yes, Ramla," they said in unison, and began twisting locks of his hair together. Ramla, meanwhile, pinched Lotor's nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. "Ow! What are you doing?" "Preparing you." She lowered her mouth to them and flicked her tongue over each one, back and forth, then wrapped her lips around the left and sucked hard. Lotor closed his eyes; he moaned, his cock swelling again whether he wanted it to or not. Was this not punishment enough, that he was allowed no alleviation? Ramla clipped an alligator clamp on Lotor's nipple. She proceeded to suckle the other one until it too was erect and ready for its clamp, joined to the other by a silver chain. He would go mad if he couldn't have a woman this very instant, if he couldn't at least touch himself-- "That's a good boy, starting to like it, aren't you?" "It isn't fair . . ." he moaned. "It's entirely fair. You'll make a lovely pony, my pet. One last detail, though." Ramla smiled and dangled a strange leather contraption before him. She fastened it around his cock and scrotum, then eased the shaft into the riveted cock cage, imprisoning his tortured member. Ramla hooked her leash into the ring at the tip. "You can't lead me like that!" Lotor gasped. "Must I gag you again, naughty boy? Behave." Lotor slapped a braid out of his face. "Absolutely unforgivable, Father," he muttered, as Ramla led him by his cock out of the house and down the street to the square. It had been converted into a ring, and within it many of the young men Lotor had seen yesterday waited for whatever humiliation they would all endure. They too wore braids in their hair, nipple clamps, and all manner of cock cages. "Let the Pony Show begin!" a woman shouted into her megaphone from the judges' panel at ringside. "Our great and honorable Ramla will lead the festivities with her pony, Lotor!" Lotor hoped the ground would open up and swallow him. His only consolation was that the cock cage did a fairly decent job of concealing what he didn't wish an entire village to see. There was no hiding his bruised buttocks, however. Ramla made a sweeping bow in her black chiffon robe, the tips of its bell sleeves brushing the ground, then tugged on the leash. "Raise your knees high, Lotor," she ordered. "Prance like a good pony." The chain connecting his nipple clamps jingled as he disgraced himself to avoid another beating. Perhaps this was all a nightmare. He still had terrible nightmares sometimes, mostly of Mother. She never would've let this happen to him. "Higher, my pet. You have those long legs, use them!" Lotor marched behind her, trying to keep in step with the insistent tugs of the leash on his cock. "Stay. Good boy. But not perfect. I shouldn't have to give you so many instructions. Bend over." "Not here!" Lotor spat. "Don't embarrass me, my slave." Ramla kicked Lotor behind his knees; his legs buckled, and she pushed her shoe into his back, forcing him over. With her foot on his spine her hand slapped his still-tender cheeks relentlessly, until his eyes burned with tears of ignominy. "You, my precious slave, are coming with me. No reward for you today. You need more punishment." Lotor trembled with rage, but he said nothing. "Come along. You need to learn." They walked back to the house. Ramla's witches waited at the door, giggling and blushing the moment they saw Lotor. He glared at them. "What are you looking at?" he snapped. "Ramla, that slave is being nasty to us!" "I know, my dears. I'm going to take care of him." They entered her bedroom. Ramla locked the door and sat down on a red velvet footstool, then beckoned Lotor to follow. He knelt at her side. He could play this game, show her what a real man was like, and win some favor. "Put yourself over my knees." Lotor draped himself over Ramla's lap, his face hidden in her thigh. He even lifted up his rear for her. "Oh, willing to receive it now, are you?" Ramla reached between Lotor's legs to free him from the cock cage. Her fingers wandered down the shaft, over his balls and his perineum. "I want . . . to be punished," he moaned. Ramla giggled softly and slammed her open hand against him. He relaxed his muscles, letting the warm sting spread outward as he, in extreme suffering, rubbed his cock against the calf of Ramla's leg. "Now, now, Lotor, save yourself." He lifted the chiffon of her robe and kissed the inside of her thigh. Lotor ran his tongue over the milky skin, farther, farther up. He parted her with his fingers and worked his tongue inside, feeling Ramla shiver. She tasted like strawberries. "You're being . . . disobedient . . ." Lotor sucked at the little knob of flesh that held all the secrets to womanly pleasure. Keeping her open with one hand, he used his other to clamp Ramla's wrists together, binding her as he was so often bound. She writhed beneath his grip as he licked the flavored cream within her. Certainly she'd wanted this, or she wouldn't have put it there. "Naughty slave," she groaned. Lotor pulled at it harder, rolling his tongue over it, collecting her juices. Ramla shuddered violently and rocked her hips up to Lotor's mouth. "I only wanted to please you, Mistress," he said with a smirk. Ramla, breathless, put her robe back in place. "But you are not to touch me unless I ask for it. You're rebellious, and you insulted my girls. Lie down on the bed." Ah, at last. The silk sheets were cool on his wounded backside, gloriously cool. He closed his eyes. All he needed now was a good massage from his slave girls. Fur-lined satin restraints closed around his wrists. His eyes flew open, and he discovered himself tethered to the bedposts. His ankles were likewise restrained and tied to the bed. The last thing he saw was Ramla smiling above him as she blotted out his sight with a satin blindfold. Silence, for a few sweet moments. Then the door creaking open, and footsteps padding over the carpet. Someone straddled him. "You are a very bad boy." The girl mounted him; his cock slid up into the velvety wet fold between her thighs, and he moaned simply out of the sheer beauty of satisfaction. The girl rode him as if he were indeed a pony, working him deeper inside of her, which he helped along with the almost uncontrollable pounding of his hips against her. Then, just as the first tingle of climax charged through his groin, she climbed off him. "No!" Lotor shouted. "No, come back . . . " He thrashed about helplessly, unable to finish it himself. Perhaps ten minutes passed. The door again, and another girl took up where the last left off. But she, like that one, left him before he could release. What had he done? Ramla was supposed to like what he'd given her! Three more followed, and each time they abandoned him. The throbbing ache threatened to drive him mad, it was so unbearable. Tears collected at the lining of the blindfold and spilled down his cheeks. "Mistress!" he screamed. "Mercy! I beg you!" "Hush, or I'll put in the gag," Ramla said, closing the door behind her. "What's this? Tears?" She sat astride him, the crotch of her rubber panties caressing his lower abdomen, teasing him. "How do those feel, my sweet slave?" "Please do something, I'll go crazy--" "Do you feel like a prince now?" "No." He tried to maneuver his hips so his cock could touch the panties, but Ramla kept dodging him. She planted herself firmly on his upper thighs, pinning him down. "That's what I want to hear. Impatient, aren't we? I could leave . . ." "No!" Lotor wailed. "I have learned my lesson!" "So weak, and you've only been here two days! But I like a weak-willed slave. Oh, you poor handsome thing, aren't you pathetic." "Yes . . ." Ramla forced his mouth open with her tongue, and he thrust his own between her lips, taking what he could get from his captor, what little she would give him. "Do you want to taste me again?" she whispered. "If you want me to . . ." "Very good answer! You are a quick learner after all. But no." "Please kill me . . ." "Kill you? My favorite slave? Oh, it can't hurt that badly." "Yes it can . . ." "My poor baby." "Save me," he murmured, his mind swirling with images of Allura and all the things he would beg her to do to him were she here. All he wanted was to love her, right now. But he'd settle for Ramla. Or anyone, at this point. "Save you from what, sweet slave? That lovely blue cock of yours?" Ramla skimmed a fingertip from the base all the way up to the head; Lotor sucked in a gasp of air through clenched teeth. He was going to explode. Didn't the interplanetary law against cruel and unusual punishment apply here? "You know what a slave must do. A good slave must always beg. Beg loudly, Lotor, so the other girls know how sorry you are for being rude to them." "I BEG FOR MERCY!" he screamed. Ramla laughed her low, husky laugh, and he felt her leave the bed. "No . . . I will be good . . ." "Hush." Every second was agony. Then, miraculously, he found himself stabbing into her warm, damp slit, and he was determined to come before she could escape, if that was her plan. But she would know when he was reaching that point, wouldn't she? She couldn't do to him what the others had done! Ramla undulated on top of him; with his sight blocked by the blindfold the sensations were even more intense. He couldn't touch, he couldn't see, he couldn't taste, he could only feel, as though his body were one giant, pulsating nerve. It began again, the first thrill of orgasm, but Ramla remained impaled upon him, matching every one of his upward lunges with a descending push. He'd penetrated as far as he could. Now there were only the waves of delirious ecstasy washing over him, drowning him in rapture, as he spilled into Ramla like a burst dam. A thunderous, formless cry escaped Lotor's lips, and he arched his back, fought the restraints, until in a few moments it was all over. The world returned to him. The blindfold was gone, and so were the restraints. He lay naked on the bed, body still thrumming with warmth while Ramla, in her robe again, sat beside him on the edge of the bed. She gently kissed his forehead and let him sleep. Two weeks, over so quickly. The young prince, dressed head to toe in his uniform, strolled through the square to his waiting star cruiser. Ramla stood near its entrance. After his ultimate punishment he had been a very obedient boy, needing a good spanking only when he pleaded for one. But his ego was famous throughout the galaxy, and only time would tell if his stay on the witch planet had any lasting effect on his personality. Prince Lotor stopped before her. She curtsied politely, and he smiled a little. He removed his helmet, tucked it under his arm, then bowed in return. "Goodbye, Ramla." "Goodbye, my prince. It was a pleasure having you." Lotor smiled again, slyly. "The pleasure was all mine." He replaced his helmet and walked up the ramp to the cruiser. The door slowly folded upward, sealing him from Ramla's sight. There was hope for him, she thought. And hope that one day Zarkon would have to send him back for re-training.