story and onyx © me; drahor
A short story detailing the origin of Onyx, my new taur gal. More to come later.
Onyx’s Journal
By: Drahor
Hello….I’m Onyx. I am a Jackal. I am female and I need your help. I am of royal descent. One of the last Egyptian class lines that stood up for the rights of the peasants. My father, Adio, was assassinated when I reached the age of becoming a woman, 18. It was then my mother abandoned our family line to go flee to Russia where her mom was from and take care of her. My mother was beautiful, but was selfish. My father was handsome, bold, caring, and righteous. He fought for a good cause, to have peasant get the same rights as the middleclass. Sadly that upset some people and he was killed because he would not back down from this cause. Anyways when I was 18 and my father died and my mother ran, the royal court tried to protect me, but there was a traitor among us and the advisor sold me into slavery; Sex slavery. I was a prized possession for the jail I lived in. I am a taur, and special at that. I stand at twelve feet tall at the tip of my ears and about nine feet tail at the base of my tail. From everything I remember my father telling me, I am very beautiful, and so concludes the royal court as well. I am embarrassed to say this but the jailer measured my breasts at a size of 34 C, whatever that means. I don’t understand what that measurement means, our city was always so free with the showing of breasts but this jailer has made me want to cover them in shame for the first time in my life. Another thing I am not proud of is my taur belly. It is considerably huge, and not normal to any other taurs in my area. Where most taurs have a slim taur belly, mine extends to about a foot off the ground hanging so low as to reach around my heels. When I go to kneel I can always feel the hard earthy or sandy ground touch my belly and make it squish, long before my knees hit the ground. Lastly there are two other things that make me a prized possession for this jailer. One is that I’m still a virgin.
As I continue this letter in privacy writing every time I get a chance it has been two years since I wrote that line. And I am still a virgin. I’m not sure why no one has taken my virginity, or why the jailer hasn’t sold me….it has been another year since my last writing of this journal. I now fully realize why I am still a virgin. It is for my other asset that I was once extremely proud of but now my pride for it has fallen, only to be turned to shame. I am 21 years of age now, and the jailer has finally turned to my backside for people to have their ways with. Since I was sold at 18, he has always used my mouth, but now at 21 he has decided to use my backside. I am sad and sickened with myself. Every time I am taken from behind I feel a rush of extreme shame but lust for whoever is using my rear. I feel terrible about it but love it all the same. You see my rear is my most prized taur aspect. Once it was honored and “worshipped” now its depraved. My tailhole is what I am talking about. I guess its abnormally large and why it’s the jailers tool to his customers. As a normal taur theirs is small and out of the way, but mine is huge and in sight. Its also why I’m still a virgin. My tailhole is about four feet wide up and down and about two across. I can always feel it being puckered tight, but when violated it is wretched open with huge poles of whatever they use, I don’t know. I am always blindfolded before the jailer ever uses me…..
Another three months or so has passed and praise the day! The jailer was furious today. He cursed a lot saying how I was his prized possession and that there was no way I could escape, but to my joy I was bought by someone who must have black holes for pockets. The price on my body was over four trillion U.S. dollars, but someone paid that price! I am totally overjoyed!. Sadly in this joyous occasion, the jailer and his three best men must transport me on a cargo ship to an island. But will be guarded by the buyer’s helicopters to make sure it goes the right way. That’s what I heard the jailer yell at the manager.
This last day was brutal. They tied my legs together and threw me in a storage unit to be put on a ship. With my legs tied I couldn’t stand but lay on my side, and the storage bin was kinda small for my size. I have to duck and lay on my taur body for my upper portion to fit. My bum is pressed firm against the back of the bin too and I can feel the icy cold steel being beat by the wind outside as I’m transported. I know this transportation is harsh but I hope that when I reach the destination this buyer will be my knight who will save me from my past hell. Here’s hoping….
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13 years, 1 month ago
29 Nov 2011 03:12 CET
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