METISSE - PRINCESS OF THE ROYAL BLOOD

Metisse was a Princess of the royal blood in the Wasami kingdom.  The Wasami revered their royal family to the point of catering to their slightest whims.
When Metisse was ten years old she was old enough to be given her own personal slave, a young boy, of her own age, called Afru. His family considered it an honor that one of their clan would serve a royal princess - but in time Afru would rue the day he fell under the control and dominion of Metisse. She had grown up cruel, and was used to getting her own way in everything.
At first, she had little idea what to do with Afru, as she had never had a slave before. Gradually however, she realized she could in fact do anything she wanted to him, because no one in the village would dare to criticize anyone in the royal family.
One day, a truly bizarre idea took hold of her mind. She would make Afru into her slave horse! She began to ride on his shoulders, and found it was quite a pleasurable feeling to be carried everywhere.  From that day, Afru’s life took a real turn for the worse. Metisse would mount him very soon after getting up in the morning, and stay astride him for most of the day. He carried her everywhere, struggling under her weight, and not daring to drop her.
For her part, Metisse delighted in the way her horse staggered under her and how his fatigue got worse and worse throughout the long days. But soon, getting him physically exhausted was not enough.  She wanted him to suffer, as much as she could make him.
So she began whipping him, just like a real horse. She tried many kinds of whips, striping his poor body with cruel lashes in her endeavor to visit as much pain as possible on him. Her favorite whip, and the one she used most often on him, was a thin, cruel blacksnake whip, which cut deep, and inflicted profound pain. The villagers said nothing, though they shook their heads silently to see the little boy carrying his imperious mistress everywhere, and being lashed mercilesslessly almost constantly.
At the end of each day, Afru would greet the dinner gong with relief because it meant his mistress would have to leave for dinner with the royal family and he could go and lie in his hut, exhausted and massaging the many scars where the whip had cut him.
They grew up together, boy and girl, torturer and victim. By thirteen, she grew taller and taller but his growth was stunted.
Metisse was always inventing new ways to hurt him. She told him one day that she wanted a new way to attach reins to him. She intended to use not his mouth, but his nipples! So she tied him up to a stake and began to make a hole in each nipple with the point of her dagger. The boy screamed and screamed, throwing his head from side to side as the cruel girl went about her task. The whole village could hear his agonized screeches but no one came forward to help him.
His blood flowed copiously from his nipples as she squeezed the mutilated ends together to work the holes bigger. Then, she took a glowing stick from a burning brazier and slowly poked it through each hole in his nipple to cauterize the wounds and burn off any jagged flesh left by her less than surgical operation.
The boy screamed desperately but there was no respite from the pain. He stood there, tied firmly to the stake, as Metisse slowly burnt him again and again. In the end he passed out. When he came to, he found he was lying in his hut as the day was over.  His nipples throbbed all night and inevitably turned into septic sores the next day. When Metisse saw the state of his nipples the next morning, she realized they would have to be healed if she wanted to use them in the future.
She was forced to call in the shaman medicine man, who very determinedly told her that Afru was suffering from a profound fever as well as nipples that he might even lose, and that the only cure was to allow Afru three weeks recuperation while the herbs he applied were given a chance to heal the boy.
Even a princess dared not argue too much with a shaman, so Aftru experienced three weeks of blessed relief from his daily dose of torture and fatigue. Metisse was extremely frustrated, and very very angry, but there was nothing she could do about it. Afru remained in his cool dark hut, visited twice a day by the shaman who tended to his wounds.
Even then, Metisse could not leave well enough alone. In her anger, she took to visiting Afru occasionally just to hurt him in some way. She could not use her whip, and his nipples were off-limits, so she would kneel beside his bed and squeeze his balls very hard. The boy’s screams would reverberate through the village until the shaman gathered up enough courage to go to the hut and by just being there bring about an end to the boy’s torture.
By now, Metisse had grown to love torturing. She felt severe withdrawal symptoms from not being able to hurt Afru on a regular basis. Occasionally she tortured some small defenseless animal, but this did not compare with the horrors she had grown used to visiting on Afru. She spent her time over those interminable three weeks dreaming of how much she was going to hurt him when the shaman eventually pronounced him fit.
Rummaging through an old storehouse, she came across a pair of spurs left behind by some long-dead Arab trader. Seized with excitement, Metisse ran to Afru’s hut to show him her new discovery. She told him how much she was going to hurt him with these new torture tools and Afru’s blood turned cold at her words.  He had no doubt that she was going to torture him terribly once the shaman released him back into her control.
Every day, Metisse would visit Afru, taking the spurs with her and slowly sharpen and whet them with a wet stone. The rowels grew more and more pointy and Afru would watch in horror as he imagined what the terribly sharp points would later do to his flesh.
The long awaited day came when Afru was pronounced well enough to leave his sickbed. There, waiting for him as he came out of his hut was his beautiful torturess. She smiled and licked her lips. Seizing him by the hair she immediately gave him five wicked cuts with her whip across his legs, for no reason other than a real need to hurt him. She led him to a seat and showed him the spurs she was carrying in her hand. She extended a long slender leg to him and perversely and rather cruelly ordered him to attach the wicked spur to her ankle. She did the same with the other spur. Afru shivered in spite of the hot African morning sun. He knew he was in for one of the worst days of his young life.
Then, Metisse took his nipples between his fingers. Smiling, and looking directly into his eyes, she began to squeeze them. Afru threw his head back with the pain, but she did not relent. She squeezed harder and harder, building a terrible pain in the newly recovered stubs. Then, she threaded a piece of string through each nipple - as makeshift reins. She was now a fully equipped equestrienne, with whip, spurs and real reins!
Ordering Afru to kneel down she mounted his shoulders and settled herself against his neck. The wicked spurs drove in, the whip cracked against his bottom and the nipple strings were pulled sharply upwards. Afru staggered to his feet immediately and set off at a run.
We shall draw a veil over the horrible events of that first day.  Afru suffered more than he had ever done as Metisse’s crazed mind sadistically tortured him beyond every limit he had ever known. When the day ended, he looked like a lump of red meat.  The whip had drawn blood due to the hundreds of lashes he received, the spurs had ripped the skin on his legs, sides and bottom to shreds, and the nipple strings had been used so cruelly that each nipple streamed with blood.
Metisse was always cruel to her mount, but never as bad as she was on that first day after Afru’s three weeks of escape from her iron rule.
Time went on in the village. Metisse grew up lissome, lovely, slender and tall. By the time she was sixteen she was a truly beautiful girl. Afru however, ridden for hours each day, and forced to carry her weight for so many hours each day, had not grown at all. He was literally stunted. She had ridden him for so many years that his shoulders and upper body had practically been molded to the shape of her thighs. Now, at the age of sixteen Metisse was nearly six feet tall, and Afru, although the same age was the height of a young boy of ten.
The villagers were by now used to seeing Metisse looking like a giantess, riding her small bent-over suffering mount everywhere.  He staggered even more under her weight, and she was no less cruel than she had been when she was younger - whipping and spurring him without mercy.
By now, at the age of sixteen, Metisse began to feel the oncoming of adolescence, that familiar stirring of the loins as young bodies discover sexuality. Riding astride Afru’s neck all day merely aggravated the urge as her vulva was in constant movement against her mount. Then she discovered she could actually relieve herself if Afru moved violent and quickly when he carried her, increasing the friction on her vulva.
This new discovery came to mean great pain for Afru. Whenever Metisse wanted release, she would whip and spur Afru to a frenzy of running full tilt, digging the spurs in really deeply and lashing him with hard whippy strokes all over his body, whilst sawing at his nipples with the reins. In his frenzy to escape from the pain Afru would run wildly and as fast as her weight would let him and eventually she would cum, in long, deep thrusts, against his neck. As she came, he would have to stand stock still so that her concentration was not ruined, and she would keep her sharp spurs buried deep in his flanks while her orgasm took place.
After her orgasm, she would sit there on her little mount, not moving and savoring the moment. For some five minutes, Afru would stand still but at least it was a respite from the pain. Then she would recover and life would go back to “normal” for her little mount.
As a princess, Metisse was obliged to stay a virgin till her 18th birthday so her shoulder riding to orgasms was practically her only release. Eventually however, she thought about making her slave please her with his mouth, and discovered another horizon of pleasure. However, pleasure for Metisse inevitably spelt pain for Afru and even pleasing her with his mouth was no exception.
One day she tied him to a stake and pulled all the front teeth out of his mouth so that he could service her vulva better. Many villagers, who again were helpless to do anything to help the screaming boy, standing there with blood pouring from his mouth as his cruel mistress used a dagger to cut his gums and literally dig his teeth out, witnessed the horrible deed!
Even though he could now service her even better with his tongue, his cruel mistress took great delight in torturing him even during the moments he was procuring her the most pleasure. While he sucked her, she would spur him without mercy, knowing he would double his efforts to make her cum quickly just to halt his pain.
At last, Metisse reached her 18th birthday and Afru was freed.  She was promised in marriage to a prince of a neighboring tribe, who arrived with dowry and gifts and bore her off. She had pleaded to take her slave with her, but one look at the runt that Afru had become and the prince told her she would have much better and stronger slaves in her new home.
Afru and Metisse were never to see each other again. Metisse, now under the iron rule of a real man, could no more indulge her sadism and daydreamed often about Afru and the life she had left behind.  Afru, broken in mind and spirit, did not long survive the departure of his tormentress. He died prematurely before his 21st birthday of a severe bone disease, no doubt aggravated at the seriously stunted curvature of his spine through all the years that Metisse had ridden him daily for hours and hours.