In the Dungeon - Master

This story's focus is on the Master of the Dungeon. It's as much of an info dump as 'story' in this series, but I felt the readers needed to have an idea of what they looked like specifically and a little more information about them.

If you are enjoying the series, let me know what you like, and what you don't.

Standard disclaimer: Everyone over 18. Not your cup of bog water? Go elsewhere. Thanks:)

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Chase walked around his dungeon surveying his slaves. They were coming along, but still he wanted to push them further. If Nathaniel could still break them, there was work to do, and the two males were still very new. He looked forward to pushing them past their limits. Their screams were always better, the look in their eyes as they broke, priceless..

First under his gaze was Whore. She had been with him for nearly three hundred years, although he guaranteed she thought it longer. Chase had abducted her from a village, no one ever missed her. Even if she was a thrall by definition, he only had to inject her every month to keep her at his pleasure. She was a brunette, Chase liked brunettes, whose hair was just long enough to grab and move her as needed. A good handful, like her breasts. Too much and they were hard to get the feeling he wanted on them, but too small and they weren't worth it. Her eyes were brown, although it had been awhile since he had seen them. She knew that him seeing them would earn her a beating.

Not that he needed a reason, he enjoyed beating them. Their pale skin was striking under his welts. All of his slaves were thin, their meals small but filling. He hated fat slaves, if they came to him as such they quickly lost it.

The second slave was Useless. Although younger than Whore as a thrall, Useless was always striving to please him, garnering attention from the others. She was also a brunette, longer hair as Chase liked the look of it falling on her face as she pleaded for release or sucking his cock. Useless was just over two hundred years old, bought from a slave market at the physical age of twenty. There was a tattoo on her ankle from the market she was enslaved in. Useless's eyes were green, covered more when looking at her fellow slaves. Her chest was larger than Whore's, but only a half cup. The size that just fit into Chase's palm, squeezable until his fingers touched.

There was never a problem between his slaves, not for long anyway. If there was a struggle, both slaves were punished the same way, painfully, and made to understand the other's side. If they still fought after the first correction, whoever couldn't let go was subjected to either a violent workshop visit or numerous sadistic partners. Chase had only had it go past the first time once. Useless would carry a scar under her left ear for the rest of her days from it.

Worthless was his last female slave. Just over a hundred years old, and also taken from a slave market. Her tattoo was on the base of her neck. She had blue eyes, the colour of the ocean. When she came to Chase she didn't speak any of the same languages, so her learning curve was more painful than the others. Chase took his time to break her, seeing her keep hope longer than the others. Her breasts were the smallest of the females but had her nipples pierced.

None of his slaves were pain-whores, but by now they found pleasure in whatever he did to them knowing it was the only chance they would get. That's why he trained them to words. Whore and Useless wouldn't stop as long as he spoke. Worthless had a habit of passing out too many in, but Chase didn't mind, it allowed him to use pain instead.

The two males he had were works-in-progress. Cocksucker was older, but only by a week or so. He still had a long way to go. They were not word-trained, but they were getting cock trained, cages holding them hostage until Chase allowed. He'd had them both on the fucking machine, their asses getting a workout, but not long enough. There would be many more sessions until they stopped crying when being fucked. That was the least of their problems. Chase had many more plans for the males, they would fuck a line of men or women without climax or face the consequences...and Chase loved consequences.

And then there was Nathaniel's slave, Princess. Chase had only started working on her, as much as her owner let him. The other thrall was soft on his slave. Too much pleasure, not enough discipline. Chase looked forward to taking her and teaching her, when her owner allowed. He had already given her a taste when she tried to flee with his slave. It was only one night, and then Nathaniel had come and relieved her.

But he wouldn't bad-mouth another thrall. It was bad form. But Chase was just over a thousand years old. He could wait...and so could his slaves.