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Peachy Keen Films – Missy Morgue
Categories: Death Fetish, Necro, Brutal Amazons, Fantasy Snuff, Petra
Description: It’s late night at the morgue and the night janitor is cleaning one of the rooms when he realizes he is not alone. A body bag lies on the exam table. He opens it up and is delighted to see a gorgeous corpse.
He takes off his headphones, sets his mop down and gets to work.
He unzips the body bag and reveals a beautiful girls. Tragically, she died way before her time from violence. Some bruising around her neck indicates some sort of strangling. But, he was not there to determine the cause of death–he was just the janitor. No, he was planning much, much more.
Over the course of the evening, he felt her up and down–through her clothes, then slowly removing them. He paid special attention while he pulled off her boots and looked closely at her adorable little feet. There was much to do and he did it all.
Stripping, fondling, rolling, lifting–there was no part of this girl that was not moved and touched. But that was not all, as his touching was more then mere curiosity, but it was erotic as well. He explored her in ways that only an intimate lover would be able to. She did not seem to mind.
In the end, he slid her head off the table, slipped his cock into her mouth and throat-fucked her until filling her mouth and throat with cum. When he set her back up, cum poured out of her mouth onto her legs and metal table.
He layed the beauty back down, said his goodbyes, and left to go finishe his shift.
Hanging from Movies – 104 Clips
Categories: Hanging, Rape, Abusive Game, Snuff Movies, Punishment, Bondage, Retro, Nude
Description: Wrong Turn Hang Decapitate, Xx Beautiful Target Hang, Ways To Die Belly Dancer Hang, A Blood Pledge Hang, A Haunting In Salem Hang, Altin Gocuk Hang, American Psycho Hang, Asphyxia Hanging, At Midnight Ill Take Your Soul Hang, Backwoods Bloodbath Gore Hang, Bad Girls From Mars Hang Body, Bangkok Haunted Hang, Basement Judge Kodp Hanging, Bed Hang, Bizarro Sex Loops Vol Hang, Blood Sisters Hang, Blue Feather Hang, Boardinghouse Hang, Bodangles Hang, Bondage Makeup Girl Hang, Boogeyman Strangle Hang, Broken Hanging, Change Pas De Main Strangle, Change Pas Demain Strangle, Chiharu Hang, Cord Hanging, Crimes Of The Black Cat Body Find(Hang), Dance Macabre Strangle Hang, Dead Certain Strangle Hang, Detective Story Hang, Detention Hang Strangle, Dial Help Hang Body, Dial Help Hang, Fallen Angels Hang, Fethish Dolls Die Laughing Hang, Graphic Sexual Horror Hang, Hang , Hangman Hang, Haunted Office Body Hang, House Of Bodies Body Hang, House Of Bodies Hang, House Of Whipcord Hang, Japanese Hang , Joe Killionaire Hang, Julias Eyes Hang, Jungle Spirit Hang, Killer Movie Hanged, Killer Movie Hang, Killer Weekend Hang, Killer Workout Hang, Killerjagd-Toete Mich Wenn Du Kannst Hang, Last Kind Words Hang, Last Supper Hang Body, Majorettes Hang, Mandara Hang, Mark Of The Witch Hang, Mars Hang, Meat For Satans Icebox Hang, Meat For Satans Icebox Hang Cannibal Prep, Moonstalker Hang, One Missed Call Hang, Open House Hang, Out Of Body Hang, Prom Night Ii Hang, Psychos In Love Hang Strangle Throat Cut, Real Hanging , Shallow Grave Hang, Silent Scream Hang, Simon Says Hang, Spasmo Dollhang, Stepfather Strangle Hang, Stripped To Kill Hang Body Handle, Suicide Girls Must Die Hang, Supernatural Hell House Hang, Suspira Stab Hang, Tag Init Hanging Body, The Bare Hunt Hang, The Basement Judge Hang, The Crazies Hang, The Grim Reaper Hang, The Hanging Judge Hang, The Hanging Judge Body, The Hanging Woman Strangle, The Majorettes Hang, The Naked Cage Hang, The Sisters Four Hang, Trail Of Death Strangle Hang, Twisted Nightmare Body Find Hang, Twitch Of The Death Nerve Hang, What Have They Done r Daughters Hang Body, Whispers In The Dark Body Hang, White Strangle Hang, White The Melody Of The Curse Hang
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The Lady Western Ambassador Becomes a Fuck-Toy.
There was only chaos, violence and confusion in the isolated African country known as Butana and it was only natural that the small population of Westerners who resided there would be as caught up in all the bedlam. Mostly they consisted of the handful of staffers from the two Western embassies along with a few dozen dedicated aid workers.
But now there was no lawful authority in this poor, corrupt mini-nation. The Premier and his cohorts were dead and both the rebels and the rag-tag leftovers from the army roamed wantonly; killing, raping and pillaging at will. The walls and the status of the Western embassies meant nothing to them…
“P-Please, please don’t hurt me any more! I signed the paper just as you wanted!”, Madame Ambassador Patricia Maples begged to the tall African renegade officer named Okuru.
Okuru chuckled. “Yes, my little rich white bitch, you’ve shown that you do what you’re told. I like that. Well, I’ll fill in whatever crime that you’ve just confessed to later. But right now, keep stroking my cock, make it big.”
“They might have made you some kinda Ambassador, but now you’re nothing but Okuru’s personal piece of pussy!”
The Western Ambassador’s 19 year-old Daughter
is Impregnated by Her African Master.
Under cover of all the continuing violence and mass disorder, all the Western males in Butana’s capital were murdered; only the white females were spared. Their pale bodies were considered exotic and they were rumored to the most extraordinary fucks – once they were broken in and put in their place.
Wiona Maples, 19, was the daughter of Ambassador Patricia Maples. She had mostly enjoyed her time in this quaint little African country. It was a bit boring, but the fantastic around-the-clock attentive service from the embassy’s large staff of Butanian cooks, servants and maids had more than made up for it. Wiona had only to clap her hands and a eager black staffer would be there, ready to serve her.
But now it was Wiona who being forced into service. She had been given to one of the renegade army officers. She had resisted at first, but she soon was tamed after a few hours of rude punishment. Wiona was even forced to watch her own mother being fucked like a common whore; Wiona was amazed how her once-proud Mom submitted so thoroughly to that huge African cock that attacked her cunt and asshole. Watching her mother suck the cum from the cock that had just pulled out of her ass brought home the fact final realization
there was nothing for her but to give her Black Master everything and anything he demanded.
Wiona’s pussy never seemed to be able to stretch enough to take all of Colonel Nomvebi’s dick without pain. The big African always liked it rough and hard when he banged her pussy and asshole. And he liked it often.
Wiona cried as Nomvebi grunted in her ear, “They will never find you or your mother. And you will give me many babies!” His large hands cupped her buttocks and arched her slender body up in order take every inch of his dark shaft as he started emptying a particularly heavy load of his thick cum deep in her uterus.
“Move your little white ass, bitch! Yeah, that’s it! Keep pumping out my cum! Work for my baby! Ahhhhhh….”
Nomvebi held Wiona’s butt tightly in place, rotating her hips as he continued to impregnate the girl with the virile jism that pumped from his heavy black balls…
Uhura Chooses Young Marcela to be Her Prison Bitch.
But it was not only the African males who got to exploit and enjoy what the stranded Western girls had to offer. In their haste – and desperation – to flee from the marauding gangs of rebels and renegade army thugs, many Western females thought that maybe, just maybe, one of the handful of woman’s jails and prisons might provide some kind of shelter.
But they would instead find, to their dismay, that their fates inside any one of these all-female African institutions would offer only another form of slavery and depravity…
Marcela, an earnest French aid-worker had come to Butana to help organize water and food projects for the benefit of the ordinary rural villagers. She had managed to evade the rape gangs that roamed the countryside and had finally found refuge inside the small woman’s prison located in a rather isolated valley outside the capital.
Yes, they would take Marcela in – but she would have to be put in with the general prison population. The rapists would never think of looking for a white girl there. But Marcela would discover that once there, she would be just another inmate expected to abide by prison rules.
And one prime prison rule was that pretty young foreign white girls were expected to be sexual slaves to any tough African woman who wanted her.
Uhura was the biggest, toughest inmate in the institution. This was no longer an opinion, but a fact, because Uhura had just established herself as the toughest by thoroughly beating her nearest competition into a pulp.
And there was nothing Marcela could do but obediently comply when Uhura sat on top of her and told her, “My nipples need you to suck them, white girl. Suck them now and get them real hard before I start teaching you how to lick my pussy…..”
Brenda Suffers One Last Ass-fucking Before She is Sold.
Brenda had served as the personal secretary to the Ambassador of another Western embassy in Butana’s capital city. Her first shock was see the Ambassador shot dead as he tried to flee the surly crowd of rebels who had forced their way into his office. But that was only the beginning for Brenda. The next three days was a horrible mix of painful spankings, whippings and the most humiliating forced sex as the rebels turned Brenda in a whore.
Brenda could hear the cries of other white females throughout the building as they suffered from the attentions of one African cock after another. Her own snatch was leaking constantly from the mixed overflow of the many different dicks that were using it and her anus was sore from the way they liked to fuck her from behind.
There was no thought of resisting now; Brenda knew her body no longer belonged to her any more. No need to struggle, only the duty to give them what they wanted…
Brenda sobbed quietly as the rebel leader steadily pushed that overly-thick dick of his up her asshole.
“Mmmmm… Gaaa…”, the big African grunted as the interior anal walls of Brenda’s ass tightly gripped his engorged black shaft. He had begun to really enjoy his twice-a-day ass-fuckings with this petite but firm-bodied white girl and how she made him cum so hard. But the offer from the Arab was good money. He knew his Arab client was getting impatient standing there, but he was determined to enjoy Brenda one last time…
“Move that ass, bitch… fuck me back… Big eh? You’ll miss my black sausage up the us, won’t you? A pity they sold you. C’mon now, fuck harder and make me cum! Your new owner is waiting and you don’t want him to get impatient!”
“Ohhhh… Godddd…!” Brenda trembled from the agony of the African’s assault as he started to get his rhythm established, his foot-long cock slamming to the hilt against her captive buttocks.
Regine Obediently Asks to be Whipped.
The American food-aid coordinator in Butana was an attractive 25 year-old brunette by the name of Regine Stewert. Ms. Stewert had seen some disquieting signs of unrest and preparations for violence some weeks ago, but her dedication to her job kept her from taking one of the early flights out of the country. Then it had been too late.
With a few other Westerners, Regine had sought refuge inside the notorious Jumbuti Woman’s Prison at the edge of the city. Regine had a fleeting acquaintance with the middle-aged African woman who served as the prison’s warden. While the woman, Miss Ngata, had made Regine somewhat uncomfortable being around her at times, Regine could only hope that she could provide shelter there.
Miss Ngata was indeed happy to take in Regine and her friends. It was not until Ngata summoned the prison guards to handcuff the other girls did Regine realize that there had been a reason why she felt entirely at ease with Miss Ngata. Ngata gave Regine the choice of being given over to one of the rape gangs – or to follow orders and obey.
“Take off your clothes, girl, and get to your knees so you can eat my pussy. Do it now!” Regine had never licked a pussy before, but Miss Ngata was experienced at teaching new girls. After a few attempts, Regine started to learn how to use her tongue sloppy-wet on that black pussy; how Miss Ngata liked to hold Regine’s head in place by her hair as she climaxed hard. Miss Ngata’s cunt-juice was thick, slimy and foul-tasting and Regine gagged the first time she had to clean out that African cunt with her tongue. But there behind the locked doors of her office, Miss Ngata gave Regine a few more opportunities to get used to it. In fact, it was four times within an hour that Miss Ngata’s body shook as her pussy smothered the girl’s mouth with more of her rancid juices.
With her mouth still tasting of the Prison Warden’s rank pussy juice and musty asshole, the American girl has passed her first test.
Now the Warden tells her, “You must prove to me that you deserve the privilege of eating my pussy and ass every day. Show me why I should keep you as my property.”
“This is Lamuba and Cybara, two of my most trusted guards. I want you to beg them to whip you while I watch. I want you to beg them to whip you hard, so hard that you faint. They’ll do a good job if you ask them nicely. Then I’ll reward you by letting you spend the night with all three of us….”
Missus Lamumba Examines Her White Slaves.
Things are tough and brutal in the Third World. There are mostly places in which there are those who have and those who don’t. There are few controls concerning what is right and wrong; that is mostly a matter of those who have power deciding what is right.
Even in the midst of the chaos that was taking place in Butana, those who had real power did not worry. The renegades, the rebels, the Army and the gangs all understood there were those who controlled the gold and the mines; people who should not be bothered in any way.
People whose names were not to be mentioned. People who, if they asked for something, should be given it without hesitation, without question.
Missus Lamumba was such a person. Her husband was a powerful man who controlled the country’s docks, harbors and railways. Her own family controlled 80% of the gold mines in the country and interest in others throughout Africa. When Missus Lamumba made it known to her underlings that she wanted something, she got it.
Missus Lamumba’s instincts had told her that the ongoing violence within the country was the perfect time to arrange for the abduction of the two young Western nuns she had seen working among the villages for the last year. It was she who had made sure that nothing would happen to them, even when they naively traveled within the most dangerous areas to do their work. Both of them so pretty, in their early twenties….Yes, it was time.
It had been almost a week now, the two white nuns were being trained and punished daily. Missus Lamumba was in no hurry. In her experience, it would be best if their suffering went on for at least 6 months.
She wouldn’t would have to wait that long to sample them, of course…
“You poor girl,” Missus whispered to the taller white slave. ” Your eye is beginning to swell shut. I told them not to touch your faces. I promise to punish whoever did this.”
Missus gently moved a finger to the nun’s lips, getting a thrill when the nun opened her mouth, accepting Missus finger at first, then sucking it softly.
“Mmmm..Yes, so nice. You’re going to make such a sweet slave…..
There comes the time when a victim or slave-to-be realizes that there is no hope or anything to be gained by resisting those who own or control her. Any resistance would only make things much worse than what has already been inflicted or is about to be inflicted.
There is only the surrender of her body and soul to whatever desires her Master/Mistress might harbor; the slave can only let herself be used, sold, punished – or worse…..
The American girl, Lacey, had come to such a realization. The journey that began with her kidnapping in the States had now ended in this hot, dingy room somewhere in the Middle East. Her pale body and exotic blonde looks had commanded a very good price.
“Don’t worry, Rehib, this infidel bitch’s whip-marks will fade shortly and her skin will be flawless for your enjoyment,” the Arab slave-seller said reassuringly.
Mr. Rahib was already rubbing his exposed cock up against the white slave’s smooth buttocks, exciting himself for all to see. “You have always sold me the best of flesh, my friend, I’m not worried. But I hope you don’t mind if I bend her over right here and take my first sample of that tight pussy…”
“Of course not, you’re one of my best customers, Rehib…”
“Did you hear the salesman, slave? I’m gonna fuck your white cunt in front of everybody. And you better fuck me back like the white whore you are ’cause I’m gonna buy you anyway and you don’t want me angry with you… understand?”
Rosiline was made to witness the whipping and beating of the other Western slave who had be abducted and transported to Arabia at the same time as she.
Rosiline had not gotten the girl’s name – speaking between slaves was strictly prohibited – she only knew that the other girl had pushed way the probing hand of one of the female “hosts” when the both of them were escorted into the large room where their new owners had gathered to inspect them.
The other girl had started to scream and beg when they started in on her with their bamboo rods, their whipping being done with hard and heavy-handed swings. But her cries only resulted in the whippings becoming heavier and faster.
One of Rosiline’s Arab owners laughed as he and his wife fondled and pinched at Rosiline’s fine young breasts.
“You ‘re going to see your haughty friend there whipped to death. It’s going to take all night before she finally dies, but we’ll all enjoy taking our turns on her. If you try to look away, you’ll suffer the same fate!”
“Yes, my sweet,” the Arab’s wife chimed in. “This is a good way for you to see for yourself what happens to those who forget their place. And your place here is to be our sex-slave, my husband’s and mine. There’s a lot of dick sucking, cunt licking and ass tonguing ahead of you…”
In her own little cell tucked away in the far side of the prison cellar, the lovely British tourist-turn-fucktoy named Katherine fell to her knees as Warden Nukuuma unlocked the door and entered the room.
Katherine was innocent of all the charges brought against her, but that didn’t matter.
Twenty years was the sentence.
And nobody even knew that she was here.
There were only the reports of her having gone missing while traveling deep in the interior of the small African country’s lush, thick rainforest. Of course, the local authorities said they were doing their very best to find Katherine. But there had been other vanishings of other Westerner girls lately – with none being discovered yet; all of them young and beautiful and strong-minded and stubborn enought to risk venturing off by themselves. Their respective families were crazy with grief and fear for their missing daughters…
But Warden Nukuuma knew just where they all had ended up. In the especially-built slave-holding section that he had commissioned for the large cellar of the women’s prison that he oversaw.
Secure and soundproof, where unwanted ears could not hear the sounds that the missing white girls made as Nukuuma assaulted them over and over again.
Nukuuma loved how each light-skinned bitch moaned and cried as he opened and stretched their tight cunts and assholes with his huge African dick.
Katherine had been the latest captive and the Warden had spent the better part of the week visiting her cell at night; abusing her hard and rough.
So many times.
So many ways.
All of her resistance had been fucked out of her now. Now she knew only to please him….
Katherine looked up at the Warden for his approval at the way she so obediently knelt before him and started to massage his huge black cock with her soft hands.
“Mmmmm, you’re learning fast. Just like all the other white bitches down here,” the Warden complimented Katherine as his shaft began to grow in length by her efforts. ” You really want me to fuck you rough, don’t you, bitch? Tell me you want it because you love me…”
“Yes, Master, I love you so much. Please fuck me. Please hurt me when you fuck me…” She lied.
Some girls, like Rhonda, found themselves entering the realms of slavery because they had no choice.
Rhonda, a tall, trim beauty from the States, had not been captured or kidnapped into her present situation. Instead she had been forced into offering herself into slavery in order to save family.
Rhonda’s errant brother had cheated the Cartel out of a good-sized chunk of drugs and money. The people that he cheated were not the types to forgive or forget. They hadn’t been able to find him, but they did find his family.
It was only at the last moment that Rhonda has discovered that those Latin gunmen had been sent to kill her, her young sister and her mother. It was only at the last moment that she managed to make a deal that the ruthless men south of the border found acceptable: In return for sparing her mother’s and sister’s lives, Rhonda would offer herself to the debtors; to be used in any way they saw fit.
What the Cartel saw fit was for Rhonda to be the personal slave-for-life to one of their most trusted brothel Madames. After all, Mamacita had served them well and had earned them all at lot of money.
What better a reward that the gift of her own slavegirl?
For Mamacita, the gift could not be better; a nice Anglo puta to be broken and shaped into whatever Mamacita wanted her to be. For sex, domestic service, even for earning some extra money on the side.
Mamacita loved the process of breaking in and breaking down a girl. But since Rhonda had been given to her as her personal property, Mamacita was especially going to enjoy herself.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me so much! I won’t be bad! I promise!”
“I know, sweetie. But I’m still going to hurt you. A lot. No need to beg. It’s going to be every day and night, sweetie. For months and months and months. You’ll know nothing but pain and suffering for months and months. And then you’ll love and adore your Mamacita. Forever.”
It was in Chinatown that sweet Tara gave others so much pleasure by her ultimate surrendering of herself.
The bored, pampered ladies of the Asian Ladies Torture Society had especially ordered the kidnapping of a white college cheerleader for their latest sex and death toy. After all, what else could provide so much joy as the degradation of a perky, yellow-haired college cheerleader?
Just the thought had the older Asian women wetting themselves in anticipation. It took them a few weeks to choose Tara as the one they wanted, but it was all worth it when she arrived all bound and tied and frightened.
They had such a good time with Tara during the month’s time before tonight. Tara might have cried and protested a bit loudly at first – but within a short time she provided such good entertainment with the way she trembled and obeyed orders to be silent as each of the Ladies abused her lovely, well-shaped behind with their various paddles and whips.
The Ladies taught Tara things that she had never thought of doing; using her stout little tongue to stimulate their aged pussies and assholes; how to show one’s devotion by the sucking of toes and underarms; how to properly swallow the yellow streams of pee that the Ladies directed into her offered mouth as a reward for her various efforts to keep them pleased.
Yes, Tara had done well, very well. Now it was time for her to provide the Asian Ladies Torture Society with what they considered to be the best entertainment and service of all….
She could only cry.
“Come over to the sink, pretty Tara. so I position you properly. You such a good girl and we all like how you scream before. We take turns, go slowly, take pieces for souvenirs to remember you by. Make you scream loud. Scream long, long time, okay? Give us big thrill! Make us wet! Every Lady here very, very good….”
Rollo had kept an eye on the white landlord and his daughter for some time.
He followed them from a distance whenever one or the both of them came down into the ‘hood to collect rents from their various properties, usually around the first week of the month.
Rollo was an experienced thug who mostly preyed upon the inhabitants of the ghetto in which they all lived, but Rollo deduced that there was more money to be made by robbing whites than his fellow blacks who were more often than not, as poor as he was. Besides, a lot of the poor black folks carried guns in order to deal with thugs like Rollo.
The white landlord was Mr. Smyles and his 25 year-old daughter’s name was Amy. Rollo liked how good Amy Smyles’ body looked through her tight skirt and blouse. He was determined to have it all if he got the chance.
The chance came the evening that Amy chose to come down by herself to collect the rent from the managers of a few of their old apartment buildings not far from where Rollo was hanging out.
Rollo spotted the large canvas bag Amy was carrying; must be hundreds of dollars, maybe even a thousand.
He also took another look-over of Amy’s body; a nice peice of ass, he thought….
When it happened, Amy never had a chance to resist. Rollo’s gun was pressed against her head and he was ordering her to shut up or he’d kill her, forcing her into the darkened alley, tearing off her clothes……
“If you don’t do exactly like I say, I’m gonna shoot you, bitch, understand?” Amy knew that he meant what he said.
No one else was going come into the area, so Rollo took his time in directing the scared Amy in just how he wanted her to suck the cock that he shoved at her face and how he wanted her to lick his big, low-hanging balls.
Amy’s mouth barely fit around Rollo’s dick but Rollo was patient and fed it to her an inch or so at a time until she could almost take half of it down her gullet.
“Ohhhh, shit! Bitch!” Rollo grunted as he held Amy’s head steady as he flooded her mouth and throat with his cum.
Amy obediently gagged and swallowed every ounce of the jism that Rollo’s balls pumped out – but she thought, Okay, He’s cummed out now. It’s over and he’ll let me go….
But Rollo surprised Amy by lifting her up on top of a full garbage can and spreading her legs, saying, “Don’t you worry, girl. I still gots plenty of cum left and my dick stays hard for hours, bitch!”
“Yeahhh, I told ya I wasn’t through with ya yet,” Rollo chuckled as he slowly started forcing his big cock into the white girl’s exposed pussy. “Uhhhh, tight, nice and tight. You ain’t never had no dick like mine, huh? Hell, I is hitting the back of yo’ cunt and I still only gots half my cock in ya, bitch! Keep quiet, bitch. Just you and me back here and I’m gonna fuck ya as long as I wanna. Gonna fuck ya in your sweet white ass too…”
Amy gasped in pain as Rollo began abusing her pussy.
“Yeahhh… Uhhhh… You takin’ it all now! Maybe I keep ya instead of kill ya. Make ya have my baby… how’d you like that, bitch?”
Life in the urban inner-city is hard and the people who dominate there are the ones who know that you only get what you want when you take what you want. That was a lesson that the suburban girls who ventured there always learned the hard way. Whether by being kidnapped off the street or by visiting the wrong address, they all stood a good chance of being added to the list of pretty, innocent white females who ‘disappeared’, never to be found. The police would investigate, the parents would wail and the media would run the stories. But it never would be of any help. The urban core has it’s own underground; a putrid, vast and secretive cesspool of sexual enslavement and sadism into which the unfortunate suburban captives were kept, traded, used and eventually discarded…
The two pretty college freshmen girls had gotten lost in their search for a much talked-about inner city nightclub. It had been so easy for big Florence to trick them by offering to take them to the place they had been looking for. After all, Florence could be quite charming when she wanted to be. But the two naive victims soon found themselves at a seedy, strange apartment with a suddenly-changed Florence, a more menacing Florence with that big knife in her hands. They would learn the new rules and meet Florence’s streetwalker roommate, Melanie.
For the six months that they had to live, the two captives would learn the meaning of service and submission. In all so many ways. And their pain and punishments would become a part of everyday life because Florence and Melanie loved having a good time.
“You gonna be good, uh? You sure don’t wanna Florence and Melanie here to get upset, do you?”
Some suburban captives were brutally broken in and put to work as low-paid street whores. Others were destined for service in more private aspects of the urban underground slave culture. Vivian, for instance, could have made some big money for the pimp who had snatched her from her car. But Mr. and Mrs. Yonkers had made that offer of three thousand dollars and the pimp was glad to take the easy and immediate cash. Just another quick commercial transaction down in the inner city.
The Yonkers couple weren’t so unrefined as to want Vivian merely for sex, although they both did enjoy using her pretty mouth, pussy and ass the first few days and nights that they had her. No; Mr. and Mrs. Yonkers, owners of a dilapidated warehouse down by the docks, had more intense plans for Vivian.
“She looks so good like that, darling,” Mrs. Yonkers said to her husband. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yeah, she sure does. I always like seein’ how they react after an hour or so. Then let’s let her down and have a little paddling session with her to get her in the proper mood for our friends when they arrive. Nothin’ better than havin’ a slave bitch all warmed up and ready to go when the guests come in the door.”
Mr. Yonkers was a man who liked to think ahead.
“I agree. Oh, we’re all going to have such fun tonight! Tell me, do you have planned anything in mind as a finale?”
“Of course, dear. You know me. How about the handsaws? Our guests would love that and if they’re careful, they can make it so she lasts throughout the night…”
Ol’ Mr. Taff was a citizen of the urban underground who got his satisfaction off the misfortunes of abducted females who fell into his clutches. Mr. Taff had very definite requirements for the girls that he bought: Always between 18 and 20, petite, blond, green-eyed – and virgin. It wasn’t easy to find such ladies, but Mr. Taff’s profits from his porn businesses allowed him to offer up the bounty money that kept a host of seedy contacts on constant lookout on his behalf.
Her kidnapper had brought Sweet Janie Simms to Mr. Taff’s place right in the midst of a small but rather raucous party that he was giving. Not that Mr. Taff minded at all. Janie was just the type of virgin pussy he demanded.
“How do you like your new home, gal,” the repulsive Mr. Taff chortled as he enjoyed the distress of his new slave’s face. ” You’re just in time to meet my little group of friends. I know they’re all going to want to get to know you, but since it’s my money that bought ya, it’s goin’ to be me who gets to know ya first.
“Mmmm… you’re a damn nice-lookin’ thing, bitch. Now, you probably know how to act if you know what’s good for ya, huh? Yeahhh… wrap those dainty little fingers around this big ‘ol cock of mine while I walk ya to my bedroom over there…”
Mr. Taff was not one to waste time.
Mr. Taff might have been well along in years, but both his cock and enthusiasm were strong and long lasting. He didn’t worry about offending the assembled party guests out in the living room; they were having their fun. They were all involved in his various shady pornography ventures and knew him well. And he knew that they were probably assembled right outside his door, listening to the loud crying and pleadings of this cute Janie as her pussy got it’s first fucking. For Mr. Taff, there was nothing like it. Brutally deflowering a virgin cunt; ignoring the obvious pain that his prisoner was experiencing that he hammered each of her holes.
For Mr. Taff, there was nothing like it. Brutally deflowering a virgin cunt; ignoring the obvious pain that his prisoner was experiencing that he hammered each of her now-raw holes. His slave suffered mightily under his repeated sexual assaults, her pitiful moans and tears intermixed with his lustful groans and dripping sweat. In her first nineteen years, Janie had never known a cock – but she was now being fucked as hard and as deeply as the most hardened streetwhore. She cried for her Mom, she prayed out loud for this to be some horrible dream. But this was all so real…
Mr Taff’s sexual interest in his victims always dimmed dramatically after a night of fucking. Now that they were no longer virgins, he had very little time for them. But he was a man who managed different pleasures, especially the very dark type that allowed him to become one of the small number of producers who made specially-ordered ‘death videos’ for those secretive, trusted customers who were willing to pay the huge fees charged to give them what they wanted. For Taff, it was the perfect solution for what to do with the now ex-virgin slaves that he had at possession of.
One of Taff’s ‘death video’ favorite actresses was the tall, black sadistic lesbian ex-druggie named Puta. Puta may have been called an ‘actress’ in those videos, but the deaths of her captive video co-stars were real. The viewers loved how she used that super-sharp knife of hers to inflict the yummiest, elegantly applied and agonizing deaths on the poor slavegirls with whom she starred. For Mr.Taff, it was only appropriate that he give his now-deflowered slave Janie to Puta as a personal gift, to do with as she pleased (although Mr. Taff knew what Puta would probably do with her).
“Now, slave, you’ve done a good job of pleasin’ me, so I’m goin’ to give you to my favorite gal Puta. She’s a woman who knows just what she wants from a sweet bitch like you. I suggest you do your best to please her as much as you pleased me.”
A slave, especially one so fresh and intimidated as Janice, will try her very best to please her Master or Mistress. Janice did all she could to accede to every demand that her new owner, Puta, made of her. Puta was jaded and sadistic and she made Janice’s next two days a non-stop experience of excruciating whippings, beatings and the deepest sexual degradations. There was no relief and no let-up in Janice’s sufferings behind the closed doors of Mistress Puta’s soundproofed quarters.
Finally, as Mistress Puta knew she would, Janice’s spirits could no longer hold up under the harsh treatment meted out to her.
“Oh, God, Mistress! Please! I can’t take it any more!”
“Mmmmm, but you must take it, baby. I’m only getting started. There is so much more to come, so much more that I have in mind for you….”
“No! No! Please! I want it to end! Please!!!!”
“Oh, sweetheart, it will never end for you. C’mon now, let’s just see how you hold up when I whip you for a half hour with that old clothes hanger I keep especially for cute things like you….”
“No!!!! Don’t!” Janice’s eyes were wild with desperation. “Kill me instead. Please put me out of my misery! Kill me!!!!”
Puta smiled. ” Really, slave? You want your Mistress to take your life? Oh, I really like that, baby. I like it when a good little girl like you begs me to do her! Ask me again, but ask me real nice…”
“Oh, please, Mistress. Please kill me…..”
Since the slave, Janice, had begged her so nicely, Mistress Puta decided to grant her wish to die. Janice had been correct in thinking that only death would free her from the ever-deepening depths of tormenting pain that Puta would be inflicting upon her every hour of every day that they were together. As Puta’s real nature was that of unrepentant sadism, she was so pleased to have an excuse to dispatch this pretty prisoner somewhat sooner than she had planned.
Janice’s pale throat was so pale and inviting and Puta’s favorite knife was always kept so sharp…….
“Ohhhh, baby…” Puta’s voice was almost guttural from her excitement; her black pussy was so wet that juices dripped from it as she pushed the slave’s head back, exposing that pretty neck.
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” the black Mistress cooed as she sliced her knife ever so slowly into Janice’s tender throat.
Heidi and Kim had disappeared after walking to their respective cars located in the unguarded lower-level parking garage for the large office building in which they worked. Neither of them knew the other personally, but their lives would now be strangely similar in terms of the fate that awaited the both of them. Both would never be seen or heard from again by their frantic families or friends, but not to worry, there were so many new friends of all types who would be only too happy to look after them. At present, both were in the process of being forcefully acquainted with their new hosts.
As Kim was being pushed into a bedroom by Manny and his hooker girlfriend Felicia, her fellow captive Heidi was already being topped and ridden roughly by the muscular LeRoy on the creaky old bed in the corner of the living room of the drug den to which the two frightened girls had been taken.
“Uhhh…. So damn tight, you bitch,” LeRoy grunted at a crying Heidi as he hammered her asshole from behind with that thick dick of his. Nothing he liked more than breakin’ in one of these suburban white gals; making sure that there would be no question about who was the boss. Yeah, his cock felt so damn good fuckin’ that sweet ass. He knew that Heidi wasn’t feeling the same, but he also knew that after a couple weeks of captivity, she’d be so used to it that she’d be grindin’ and gyrating back against any cock assaulting that snug pucker of hers. Pretty soon he expected to switch off and take a turn on the other prisoner who was now being prepared in the bedroom.
Life in the ghetto was so good when one was having fun….
Kim had been raped repeatedly during the first day and night of her kidnapping. It was extremely painful and humiliating for her; her captors used her in any way that they chose to and hurt her in any way that they wished. Her pleas for mercy and to be released were ignored or met with laughter. Sometimes they used her in a separate room; other times they fucked her right alongside Heidi, the other girl who had been abducted at the same time.
Finally the kidnappers tired of having fun and got down to the business of making some profit off these two pretty white girls. There were plenty of ways these bitches could make money for anyone who bought them and there were also no shortage of prospective buyers who would want them for non-commercial purposes.
It was a couple of black gang members who paid out the five hundred bucks for Kim. They didn’t intend to keep her for themselves. No, these thugs were acting only as middlemen. The word on the street was that Mrs. Diaz was looking for some fresh fuckmeat to work in her whorehouse and Kim would be just what the jaded Latina madam would be interested in. The two thugs would enjoy a night of good, hard fucking of this bitch, then sell her to Mrs. Diaz the next day. The price would probably be $700.00. Not a big profit, but a fast profit…
Kim had never encountered such large cocks before and she knew she was in for a difficult night – because her both her mouth and pussy could barely stretch enough to accommodate their oversized shafts. But the gangsters didn’t care about how Kim felt. They only cared about many times she could get them off, how many times she could suck the cum from their dicks and take their spurted semen deep in her cunt and ass.
Mrs. Diaz was only too happy to pay out the cash for this cute bitch named Kim. Kim had the blond Anglo looks that would make her very much in demand for the steady stream of inner-city clients who frequented the run-down whorehouse that she operated. Mrs. Diaz’ s rates weren’t high and she made sure that she had the bed sheets changed after every three hours, so her blue-collar customers had few complaints. This was the place on the block that a hard-workin’ guy could go to and get a nice piece of pussy to shot his rocks off in before going home. Most of Mrs. Diaz’s girls were well-used and drug-addicted, so and fresh, white suburban gal like Kim would be the center of attention right away. Diaz would have to make sure that she wasn’t used up too quickly, though.
As the whorehouse Madam, Mrs. Diaz took it upon herself to make sure that this new captive Kim got a proper welcoming. Of course, Mrs. Diaz made sure that she would be the one who got use of the girl before the rest of the whorehouse’s staff got their turns.
Mr. Diaz’s nipple was already hard as she guided her tit to the slavegirl’s mouth. ” C’mon, whore, suck on your Mistress’s titties like a good girl, eh? Don’t worry about my friends over there, they can watch – but you just goin’ pay attention me. I’m the important one you gotta please, so get busy.” The big woman moaned as an obedient Kim began suckling her breasts with trembling lips.
“Si, that feels good, real good, bitch. Keep on until you get my cunt all soppin’ wet…. then I’ll let you do some serious pussyeatin’. And you better get me off, if you know what’s good for you….”
Ms. Gruber was the widow of once-powerful, then disgraced City politician. At one time, the Gruber’s were at the top of local society; he being a Councilman who was a prime mover-and-shaker at City Hall; she being one of the City’s most active and sought-after social hostesses and party-giver. Then had come the bribery expose. Then the numerous investigations into her husband’s many dubious practices, including bribery, fraud and vote tampering. Councilman Gruber was tried and convicted in a long, highly publicized trial and sentenced to a long prison term. On the eve of his reporting to the authorities to begin his incarceration, Mr. Gruber instead chose the way of suicide, leaving Mrs. Gruber alone and practically penniless. None of her social circle of friends would speak or come to her aid, so Mrs. Gruber, once the hub of upper-class society, soon found herself reduced to living in a run-down apartment in the one of the more seediest sections of the city. But like her late husband, Mrs. Gruber was one who forged new opportunities fro herself. She had seen how the trading young white female flesh was a major source of commerce down on those gritty urban streets, saw the amount of money that flowed in this Underground commerce that thrived on the pain and misery of the imported bitches who were ticked or abducted into this dark, sewer economy – and she decided to use her (and her late husband’s) experiences and shady contacts set herself up as a major broker of white slaves. And she found that she was so good at it that within a few months she was able to purchase an entire building of her own to serve as her business headquarters.
Mrs. Gruber found that this was a fine way to be able to vent her pent-up rage and bitterness over the cruel fates that had befallen her. What better revenge against that upper-crust society that had banned her from it’s ranks than to be able to seize their pampered daughters and sell them into a life of vile slavery and exploitation from which they would never return? Yes, this new line of work made Mrs. Gruber very happy indeed….
In her greatest moment of triumph, Mrs Gruber was preparing to spend her first night with the two twin daughters of Judge Harriman, one of the officials who had prosecuted her late husband. Joanie and Regina Harriman’s disappearance from their college freshman dorm room would never be solved. The media was rife with rumours of their being spotted at various locations around the country, but all those rumours were wrong: Joanie and Regina were instead just a few miles from their father’s home, shackled securely in the small base room that Mrs. Gruber had reserved especially for their arrival. The two girls were no longer resistant; their initial defiance had quickly dissolved under the hour-long application of belt welded by Mrs. Gruber’s black girlfriend, Wanda. And Mrs. Gruber took so much pleasure seeing the shock on their faces when they realized exactly how she was and why they had been brought here….
The elderly Mrs. Gruber, so tall and rangy, was such a contrast to her two petite 18 year-old captives, Joanie and Regina; she being so pleased and confident, opposed to their confusion and despair. Mrs. Gruber wiggled her ass a bit in order to have Joanie’s lips more firmly positioned against Mrs. Gruber’s puckered anus. “Yes, yes, you’re right there, darling”, Mrs. Gruber murmured softly as she felt the thrill Joanie’s warm mouth and tentative tongue press against her asshole. “Now, deeper, please. Explore it, get used to the taste of it for a while before you start to really jamming that little tongue of yours all the way in and rimming it all around….. Ahhhhh, yes, my pet, you’re going to be very good at this, aren’t you? Maybe – just maybe – I won’t beat you tonight if you show me that you can the kind of nasty girl I know you can be.”
As Mrs. Gruber bent over to explore a cowering Regina’s pussy with her old, experienced hands, she only a vague thought of what their fate would be. Whether to sell them off or to keep them as her two lifetime trophy slaves, to do with as she wished. Right now, her real thoughts were on just what perverted and disgusting things these two slaves could do tonight to give her the pleasures that she would demand from them. It was already looking to be a good night as Joanie’s obedient tongue burrowed inside Mrs. Gruber pucker, sending a tremor through her lower body.
“Ohhhhh….that’s it, girl! Be my sweet little bitch and eat my ass good!”
Chester was not from an upper-class background. He had always been a citizen of the downtrodden streets and has never known any other life. Life now was being barely able to scrape together enough money each month to afford this run-down room and food to keep some food and liqueur in his belly. But things were looking up: Ol’ Chester had spied Cindy as she had been tossed from her vehicle by the carjacker. The dazed and hurting Cindy was in no mind to resist as Chester had run up to her and swiftly half-walked, half-carried her into the alleyway, assuring her that he would take her to his place and call the police and ambulance. And she could only weakly resist as he roughly tore off her clothes and bound her securely. The old tramp hadn’t had pussy in a long time – but that didn’t keep him from enjoying himself, ploughing Cindy from behind. He loved the snug tightness of her asshole as he forced his stiff cock in to the hilt and treated himself to a series of sweating, grunting fucks.
Although Cindy’s body would provide Chester with a lot of pleasure, he was also considering how it would also provide him with some much-needed cash. After a couple of night, he decided, it would be time to see just how much money a frightened, slightly used, suburban salesgirl would bring when offered to the variety of pimps, whorehouses and human flesh collectors whom he knew. Times were looking up for Chester.
“You know, you gonna make me some real good money,” Chester laughed. “You know that? There’s gonna be people who are gonna be offerin’ me all kinds of cash for your pretty little ass. All that and some good fuckin’ that you done gave me – a man can’t ask for more, huh?”
Cindy’s only response was a soft sob. It was clear that she didn’t share Chester’s jovial point of view.
“Damnmit, bitch! Stop all that cryin’! You’re spoilin’ my mood!” Why couldn’t this girl be more positive, think like he was thinkin’. Hell!
Well, if you wanna cry, then let’s really give ya a little somethin’ to cry about,” he said as he took his trusty cigar from his lips and pressed it against the soft skin of Cindy’s back. ” How this for a reason to cry?”
“Iiiiieeeeeee! Nooooooo! Aaaeeee…!
As ghetto life was hard, it was only fitting that the sex would be hard there. The men took their fucking seriously and crudely. No time for niceties or consideration. The unfortunate slaves whose bodies were offered up in exchange for cash, chattel or drugs had not say as to what would be done to them. Their pussies, asses and mouths were merely holes meant to help drain cum from those cocks – and that was if they were lucky enough not be used some more sadistic and fatal purposes.
A suburban -born and raised slave was usually woefully unprepared for the overwhelming violent and ruthless beating and fucking that she would endure in the first hours and days of her captivity. This was especially true in the case of girls abducted or sold to the inner-city pimps. The pimps were experts at breaking in new prisoners, subjecting them to long sessions of unrelenting punishment and rape.
Carolyn would never see her middle-class family again. Instead of coming home from her first job as a bank teller and enjoying an evening meal with the family before retiring to bed, Carolyn was now experiencing her first oversized black cock, courtesy of the pimp who had forced her from her car at gunpoint. She was now being bedded on a filthy mattress on the floor of a derelict crack house…
The pimp had a long, thick dick and he tortured Carolyn’s pussy with it, hurting her with his hard, deep strokes. It was nearing midnight and this was fourth time for the pimp and Cindy. Her captor’s fist and strap and taken away any defiance on Cindy’s part; she now knew better than to do anything except give him what he wanted…
Sometimes the acquisition of a slave can create tensions within the family that she is taken in by, This was the case with the Silvas, Emile and his rather bossy wife, Wiona, Prodded on by Wiona, Emile Silva had spent a nice portion of his gambling earnings to buy a 18 year-old Anglo girl from Latin gang member who had kidnapped her while in the midst of robbing the convenience store at which she worked, Against all odds, Doris, the captured female had not been raped or seriously physically abused – so she was in fairly good shape when the thug had allowed Wiona Silva a peek at her, gagged and bound tightly in his closet, Wiona, being the lusty bitch that she was, decided that this was a chance to get her hands on that sex/domestic slavegirl that she had always dreamed of having, Emile, just flush from an unusual run of luck at his weekly high-stakes card game, was no match for his wife’s demand for him to buy a certain white slave named Doris, to give her what she wanted….
“Okay, Emile,” Wiona Silva warned her husband, “Now just because we own this bitch is no reason for her to get all used up before her time! So you get one fuck a day from her, And no rough stuff! You know you can’t control yourself like I can when it comes to doin’ a little pain thing with a girl, You leave the whipping and spanking and all that kind of thing up to me, okay? But you can watch, you know you love to do that….”
Doris had been reared in a world that was very far in distance and culture from the one in which she was in now, The conditions and surroundings at this new place in which she found herself were a steep step down from everything that she had experienced before, And there was the language barrier; Doris did not speak or understand Spanish, which was what the majority of the Silva family spoke around her, But then, when it came to what they wanted from her and what they wanted her to do, it was not very difficult for them to make it all perfectly clear, There was no mistaking what Emile wanted from her when he made his nightly visits; nor where there any questions as to what Wiona’s plans were when she imposed herself on Doris on those half-dozen times that she felt her needs grow….
Amelia and her sister Carla were the two older aunts who shared the semi-derelict duplex house along with their beloved niece Wiona and son-in-law Emile Silva, Neither of the elder women spoke a word of English – but their interest in this new slave Doris was the kind that didn’t need any translation, At first somewhat taken aback by the fact that their younger relatives would be so bold as to actually do something like purchasing a slave to serve and service the Silva household, they both soon warmed to the idea, Especially after considering al the things that Doris could do for them throughout the day, Yes, the girl looked strong and durable enough.
And her lips and mouth were so tender, so pliant……..
In some cases, the relationship between the purchased slavegirl and her owner was strictly a one-on-one affair, This was the case of Miss Linda and her slave, Patty, Miss Linda didn’t earn huge money at her job as long-time bartender down at the local biker bar – but it did give a chance to overhear one of her biker customers lamenting to another that he was having a hard time getting someone to buy this college gal that he had taken from her boyfriend as payment for a drug debt, Patty had been betrayed by the boyfriend he had come to love, betrayed and given away to a rough, crude and smelly outlaw biker who had enjoyed raping her and then allowing his motorcycle buddies to do the same in the two months that she was under his control, But now he was tired of Patty and had been trying to find someone who would be interested in taking her off his hands – for a price, Otherwise, Miss Linda had heard him say, he would just have to kill the bitch and bury her or dump her body in the river.., He was very surprised when Miss Linda summoned him over to the end of the bar and quietly offered to buy Patty for a nice price, better than what he had expected to get for her.
Miss Linda, well into her 40s, may have looked somewhat like a used-up frump but there was a side to her personality that even her most hardcore biker barfly customer would have been surprised to know about, Compared to the dark and sadistic thoughts that Miss Linda kept to herself, theirs could be considered mild, Behind her pleasant, happy-go-lucky outward facade there lurked a deadly soul who had managed to murder over a dozen unfortunate victims so far in her lifetime, Her non-threatening demeanor and earnest smiles had allowed her to get close to the ones who had caught her fancy – and to get them where she wanted them, Some of her acquaintances wondered why Miss Linda had never sold and moved out of that crumbling old brownstone townhouse that she had lived in for so long, The brownstone with that big, soundproof basement and a vague odor and small traces of lime…
Miss Linda’s interest in her newly purchased slave Patty was not for the sex, Well, that was not entirely correct – because over the next month, Miss Linda would experience many shuddering orgasms from the sights, smells and sounds of Patty’s reactions to all the delicious atrocities that Miss Linda would visit upon her captive body, For Miss Linda, inflicting pain on such a beautiful woman as Patty beat mere sex any day, In fact, here in the beginning of their new relationship, Miss Linda was already feeling the telltale tingling in her crotch as she used her cigarette lighter on one of Patty’s nipples.
“EEeeeeeeeeee! Goddddddd….! Patty’s screams were ear splitting, but Miss Linda’s slightly stoic facial expression never changed.
“You can make all the noise you want, Patty, You’re so cute, I won’t get mad……”
In the big inner-city whorehouse of Mrs, Diaz, the new slavewhore Kim was quickly learning her place in the social hierarchy of the whores who worked there, It was simple: Kim was not a house whore, she was a slavewhore and that put her firmly at the bottom, In so many ways, It didn’t help that she was the prettiest and best-bodied whore in service there or that Mrs, Diaz charged almost a third more to fuck Kim than for the other girls, It didn’t help that she obviously had better education and upbringing than they, All these things worked to cause an undercurrent of resentment towards Kim, It didn’t matter to them that she certainly was not there by choice or that unlike the rest of them, she could never leave, The other whores only knew that having Kim there somehow made them feel looked down upon and unappreciated by the male customers, There were the usual insults, snickers and slights aimed at Kim but they all knew better than to incur Mrs, Diaz wrath by hitting Kim or causing any marks or injuries, Mrs, Diaz was definitely not the forgiving sort.
But as an astute manager of people, Mrs, Diaz did agree to look the other way when the regular whores began a program of humiliation targeting Kim, She gauged that allowing them to occasionally subject Kim to a little degradation and abasement might provide them with a way to vent their resentments towards her, Mrs, Diaz was one who valued a little bit of therapy for her working girls every now and then….
As one of the senior-ranked working girls in Mrs, Diaz whorehouse, Ophelia took the lead in showing the pretty new slavewhore Kim just how far down she was on the whorehouse’s social totem pole, “We work here, ” Ophelia was fond of telling this too-attractive slave bitch, “But you’re just a fuckin’ slave! so don’t you dare think that you’re as good as we are!”
And Ophelia had a special way to make her point: Every early morning she would walk a cringing Kim into one of the larger toilet stalls and chain her in the proper position – the position that would place Kim’s head just right – so that after licking Ophelia her expected orgasm, Kim’s head and mouth would be positioned just right to accept and gulp down the stream of piss that Ophelia would invariably give her.
The squatters who occupied the vacant apartment building had come to consider themselves as sort of the owners of the place, After all, they had been living within the derelict property for months without any interference or complaints from anyone, But in fact, they were not the owners; the true owners were an absentee family that was based far from the area; the McDulty family, who owned hundreds of substandard properties in this particular part of the inner city, A family that was now in the process of inventorying it’s inner-city holdings and deciding which ones would be sold, converted into profit-making condos or retained for some future use, The McDulty were not ones to see their real estate as anything other than items listed on a spreadsheet; that there were people who rented the mostly rodent-infested residential buildings that were on their list of properties was of no importance outside of what moneys they contributed to the family’s already-bloated profit columns, The trick had always been to charge the rents without bothering to spend anything on upkeep on the properties, And seeing how the McNulty family lived so fabulously well while their low-income tenants lived in the squalor of the McNulty residential properties, the trick worked very well indeed.
But now the McNultys had decided to rid them of most of their urban properties and invest the huge sales profits elsewhere, They assigned Ruth McNulty, fresh out of business school and eager to prove her worth to the family, to travel to the city and examine and report her impressions on each real estate parcel with the aim of recommending whether to retain, convert or sell it, When she arrived at the 18th Street apartment building, she was surprised not to see it boarded up, since it was definitely listed down on her books as having been vacant since that huge fire had practically gutted the place a few years ago, She was also surprised and not the least bit miffed to also discover that there was a motley group of squatters that had taken up residence within the building’s debris-riddled confines.
With typical McNulty family arrogance and with not the slightest bit of common sense, an indignant Ruth McNulty had stormed into the building, confronting the squatters who seemed to be tucked into almost every nook and cranny there and imperiously demanding that they all pack up their pitiful belongings and get out before she came back with the police, Only when they cursed and grabbed her did Ruth realize that, unlikely though it may be, some people just didn’t give a good damn about the McNultys and what they had to say.
As a resentative of her absentee slumlord family, Ruth McNulty was now getting a very clear indication of just how unpopular she was in the minds of the poor, downtrodden squatters who had invaded the previously-vacant apartment building that Ruth had come to examine, One indication was the stinging lashes from the leather whiplet administered by the streetwalker to her now-nude body.
“Not so fuckin’ arrogant now, are ya, bitch?” The streetwhore’s rain of blows to Ruth’s tender body were being delivered just a bit harder each time, ” What’s that? What you sayin’, bitch? Can’t quite make that out?”
The group of Squatters were enjoying the show, And it was clear that Ruth’s ordeal was just beginning.
“C’mon, Babes, that’s enough now, We don’t want her passed out and unable to enjoy the fuckin’ that she’s gonna be gettin’, Hey, Joe, sweep all the junk off that old mattress over there in the corner so this cunt can have a proper place to show us how she can work that rich pussy of hers!”
Greta May Mooty’s original origins were the deep back hills of the Ozarks, This converted storage building located just of the docks of this city’s deep urban core was so different from the green, forestry environs from which Greta had emigrated – but yet so familiar in a lot of ways, The poor who lived here were just as poor as the people back from where she had come, Death came just a quickly here as it could back home in the mountains when someone felt they had put things right – or just take something that rightfully belonged to someone else, As a woman, Greta May had been very quick to apply her hard-nosed, gun-toting ethics to make an impression in her new, adopted surroundings, She had personally choked the life out of would-be robber with her big, strong hands and walked right up to a threat-spouting drug dealer and blown a big hole in the middle of his face with that big pistol that her late gun-hoarding father had given her as a birthday present so many years ago, It didn’t take long for the word to spread that Greta May was definitely not one to be fucked with in any way – and that became even more the case as she began to import a half-dozen or so of her equally-fierce Mooty brothers and male cousins in from the hills to join her, Yep, people had better make way: There was a new person in town who was setting herself up in the white-slave business: Big, gruff, straight-talkin’ and stright-dealin’ Greta May and the rest of her Mooty clan were a force to be dealt with.
One of Greta’s big advantages was that she and the other Moodys had a source of easily snatched female slaves in the Ozark Hills from which they came and in which they still had many contacts among their vast extended family do the scouting and kidnapping, There were many a reason why a poor but pretty Hills gal would just disappear from sight; runnin’ off with a cousins to get married or just to seek a better life far from limited options facing them if they stayed, But those who found themselves in the clutches of Moody abductors soon found themselves shackled and beaten into submission in the dockside building owned by Greta May until they were broken and fit for sale, There seemed to be many a slavebitch with a hillbilly accent now being put to work out on the urban streets and alleys, in the whorehouses and sexhouses that dotted the urban landscape.
Greta May took a fierce pride in the quality of the captured gals that she offered up for sale, Not an ugly face among them, Always a delectable 18 -25 year-old body, Always thoroughly broken in and ready to be put to work, Whether it was for service on a back-alley mattress, in the guarded rooms of a whorehouse or just as a basement-confined fucktoy, Greta’s girls were well worth the money, That quality was the product of Greta May’s personal brand of hands-on training and indoctrination of every slave who was delivered and approved by her, Greta inspected and interviewed each girl and made it a point to personally guide her towards the new life that was in store.
Today, for instance, Greta was patiently inspecting a pair of second-day slave bitches that she sensed had great potential as candidates to be trained as personal fucktoys, Fucktoys always sold for twice the going rate of whorehouse and street-destined slaves, They needed a more time and effort-intensive brand of training, but Greta was always up for that, Hmmmmm, this little hillybilly blond had very good potential, Greta thought.
“Honey-pie, yours is some kind of yummy piece of pussy! Ol’ Greta thinks maybe you gets what it takes to be a top-notch sale, Yep, damn nice tits, all firm and free-standin’, Well, tell ya what, I gonna start back where we left off before ya fainted on me last night, Get ya all raw and sore before I let ya do some work on my cunt, How’s that sound to ya, girl?”
Sometimes the shock and disorientation that comes from being kidnapped and installed in a whorehouse can have a negative effect on a new slavegirl, especially one who has never experienced the dark and grittier side of the inner city sex scene. Pulled from her comfortable and familiar surroundings, a new slave often goes into a momentary state of shock, her mind unable to accept the fact that she is destined to live the rest of her life as merely a piece of sex-meat; that her mind and body will never be her own and that her entire existence will now consist of providing pleasure-upon-demand to anyone who buys, owns or rents her. Such was the case with Abby, the trim, sweet-faced salesclerk who was now one of the latest additions to the whorehouse stable of Senora Martinez. Abby, even though she was well into her second week of captivity, just could not jolted out of her frantic and almost hysterical refusal to finally settle into her new life as a whoreslave. Despite numerous whippings and punishments, Abby was still a morose, crying mess of a girl who tended to turn her customers off with her self-pitying attitude.
But Senora Martinez was ever so experienced in the breaking and moulding of young slaves. Finally deciding to get personally involved in the correction of Abby’s outlook and behaviour, the Senora ordered Abby to be brought upstairs and installed in the Senora’s personal suite. “Just leave it up to me,” the Senora had told her subordinates. “The poor girl just needs a few days and nights of my loving attention to settle her down and make her see things as they are……”
Senora Martinez had rightfully deduced that Abby merely needed a calm, leisurely hand to break her in and jolt her out of her mental reluctance to readjust to her new life as a sexslave. No, none of that frenzied, sweating applying of the belt or paddle; no more of the beating and noisy recriminations. What Abby needed instead was the kind of serene torture that the Senora was so good at. Back in her earlier days serving as an interrogator for a a couple of Latin American regimes, Senora Martinez had become quite the expert at knowing just what form of physical distress was best used on a particular victim, and she had gradually come to specialize in long-duration, low-key torture routines that lasted over a period of weeks, not days. And the Senora’s subjects always begged to tell her everything and to do anything before she was even halfway done with them. …
“Mmmmmm….Si…..mi pequeсa perra bonita…..Ahhhhh…” The Senora’s voice was so calm and reassuring as she again slowly pushed the sharp tip of her ice pick through Abby’s breast. “This time, I’m just going to wiggle it around a bit so that you can better appreciate the feeling of it….”
Abby’s screams rose in their intensity, the sounds bouncing off the dank walls.
“Ah, Si. Such a wonderful voice you have. I love how it sounds. I’m looking forward to hearing it sing for me over the many hours that you and I spend together…”
Tanya’s first experience as a whoreslave would be with Mr. and Mrs. Cabral, the owners of the small 81st Street whorehouse that catered to a mostly blue-collar immigrant clientele. The Cabrals were quite the hands-on type of house managers and as with all the other new slavewhores that were acquired, they made it a point to try out and assess all that Tanya had to offer. This process would usually take a few days and nights, but both the Cabrals were blessed with great sexual appetites and imagination; Tanya would be thoroughly tested and put through her paces and given further training in areas which the Cabrals judged her to be lacking.
With her long blond hair, pale skin and blue eyes, Tanya would be in big demand by the Cabral’s mostly brown-complexed Latino customers and they would pay the extra five American dollars charged for her at first. Of course her price would drop after she became thoroughly used up after a few weeks of twelve-hours of daily fucking, but in the meantime, she’d more than justify the high price that had been paid for her abduction.
Mrs. Cabral’s hands tested the smoothness of Tanya’s skin, taking her time exploring every part of the slave’s trembling body as Mr. Cabral looked on. ” She feels good, my husband. I think that she will give us much pleasure tonight.”
“Si, and make us much money later.” That was Mr. Cabral, every the businessman. ” So, you want to try her out first?”
“Si, would you leave us alone for a while until I call for you? I always like to start when it’s just the girl and me. Then when you come in, I want to watch you fuck her in the ass right away and then shoot your cum down her throat. It excites me to see you do that…”
For Leslie, the first day of forced prostitution had been a long one. So many cocks that abused her holes. The rancid taste of cum still fouled her mouth and the mixed semen of her many customers still leaked from her pussy and ass. She had been closely monitored by the whorehouse’s owners and the other regular working prostitutes; all of them alert for the slightest hint of resistance or non-cooperation on her part. The punishment sessions that she had endured before being put to work had made it plain that things would be so much worse for her if she do as she was told. So Leslie had stifled her cries as the seemingly endless line of rough men had taken their turns with her, driving their dicks deep in her cunt and ass, their crude hands forcing her mouth over their cocks and making her gag while spewing their loads down her throat.
She was led away at the end of her night’s shift by Sandy, the seasoned prostitute assigned to be her roommate and overseer. Sandy, of course resented Leslie’s youth and good looks – but that didn’t keep her from asserting her senior rights to the younger woman’s body. Leslie, Sandy had noted, had those nice lips; just right for eating pussy…..
“You’ve done your first night of fucking customers, now it’s time to take care of my needs, you little cunt! Here, show me that cute little ass of yours – yeah, just right for some good spankin’ before I put ya to work lickin’ my pussy!
You might be younger and cuter than the rest of us workin’ girls here, but that ain’t gonna keep ya from bein’ my bitch all the time you’re here!”
Some captives would have gladly traded for servicing in a whorehouse rather than suffer the fates that were thrust upon them. Jenny’s experience at the hands of the geeky-looking Sherman Beck would be extremely unpleasant.
Beck’s goatfish looks had worked against him when it can to meeting up with the beautiful gals that he so longed for. But if Sherman’s looks didn’t help him, the large monthly allowance given him by his rich family certainly did. Sherman Beck didn’t care about spending money on new cars or fancy clothes. But he did spend approximately twenty-five thousand dollars every other month on a very particular passion. Twenty-five thousand, more or less, was the going price that the criminal gang charged him for the very pretty women that they abducted for him. And they were delivered every other month, because that was usually how long they lasted under the kind of attention that Sherman gave them.
Sherman Beck might have appeared to be harmless and gangly, but his way of loving his slaves was crude and brutal. Sherman needed his gal to be in pain while he fucked her. He needed to hear her cry, scream and beg to be able to get himself off. Shackled and kept in Sherman’s sound-proofed room, in the seedy urban district far from his family and childhood friends, the slaves suffered and died under his perverted style of lovin’.
Sherman was thoroughly excited now; Jenny’s pitiful and agonized moans had made his cock grow erect and hard. This bitch would be one of the best, Sherman could tell. Maybe he could keep her alive longer than the others that he had bought, he thought. But he always thought that with each new slave he bought. They never lasted more than eight weeks to the day. Well, he could always buy another and yet another girl to give him the kind of pleasure that he demanded.
“Goddammit, gal, you’ve got a nice-lookin’ pussy on ya!” Sherman’s dick pulsed as he guided it towards Jenny’s shaven cunt. ” You just keep on cryin’ while your Master Sherman fucks ya. That’s the way I like it.”
Sharon’s job as a social worker sometimes required her to visit the addresses listed by her assigned clients in order to verify that they were indeed staying off the liquor and drugs that were the usual cause of most of their problems. She often felt uneasy about venturing down into the run-down areas in which a lot of her clients lived, but luckily for her, there had been no problems so far. But all luck eventually ends and it ended for Sharon when she went to check on the status of Amos Bradly at his dingy basement apartment. Amos was there, all right. And unfortunately for Sharon, so was Amos’s buddy, Riff.
Riff, a middle-aged thug, hadn’t had any pussy in weeks. The workin’ girls insisted on charging him extra because he wanted his sex hard and rough. When Sharon stepped into the cluttered apartment, Riff knew what he wanted and how to take it. Sharon had fought and resisted at first, but Riff’s hard slaps and punches were too much for her and soon she was crying on the floor as Riff tore off her clothes.
“I don’t know if my pal Amos wants any, but I’m gonna see how good a stuck-up gal like you can fuck when she puts her mind to it, bitch,” Riff chortled as he laid on top of Sharon. She started to plead with him, but a few more hard punches to her face brought more blood and silence from her.
“Yeah, just keep quiet and take it,” Riff ordered as he started jamming his cock inside Sharon. “Real tight cunt you got there, bitch. I like ’em tight…”
Sharon didn’t want to be hit any more, so she kept herself from whimpering as the old thug named Riff stiffened and slammed his cock to the hilt in her pussy as he came after yet another hard ride.
“Uhhhhh….,” Riff grunted as he emptied his balls, pumping another load of his warm sperm deep in Sharon’s cunt. “Move them hips, you whore, and squeeze all my cum up that pussy of yours.”
But now everything is hard-hearted in the urban sex world. There are the occasional tender moments that occur within the many shabby, cum-stained whorehouses that litter the landscape there. Such was the case with Leslie, the young woman pressed into sexual slavery at the whorehouse of Mrs. Diaz. Leslie had caught the eye of one of Mrs. Diaz criminal associates, a certain Senor Guzman. Would Mrs. Diaz be perhaps interested in selling the Anglo girl named Leslie to him for a handsome profit to cover both her expenses and whatever Mrs. Diaz estimated that Leslie might have earned in her whorehouse duties? Of course, Mrs. Diaz was ever so open to making a deal with a friend – especially one so powerful and dangerous as Senior Guzman. It was well known within the criminal underground that Senor Diaz was the producer of so-called “snuff films” that were made at secret locations in South America and sold for big profits worldwide.
When the regular prostitutes who worked at the whorehouse learned of Leslie’s sale to Senor Guzman, they immediately knew what her fate would be. And as the sincere working girls that they were, they decided to all get together with Leslie for one last night. What better way for them to show Leslie their sympathy and affection for her than by letting her spend the night eating out their pussies and assholes?
The older whores gathered around the condemned slave named Leslie in order that she have the chance to service them on her last night at the whorehouse. They felt sorry for Leslie, so it was only right that they allow her to pleasure each of them to make them feel better.
The big black gal, Rhonda, was the first one to take the initiative. “Baby, we gonna all miss ya so much. You one of the best ass-eaters that I done come across, girl. So for old times sake, I want ya to lay down so I can spread my butt over your face while you sticks your tongue up my asshole and suck on it like you do so well. I know you likes doin’ that nasty stuff, so I wants ya to have somethin’ to remember me by. Whatta say, girl? You wants that much as I does?”
“Si, of course she does,” chimed in Enrica, sliding up behind Leslie. “She knows that we all just wanna show her how much we love her. Now after you get through rimming Rhonda out, I’ll help you out by letting you swallow a couple of my turds and Marcita there can wash it all down with her piss. what could be better than that?”
Andrew Byran, the city’s biggest and worst slumlord was going crazy. All his money and connections weren’t doing him a damn bit of good when it came to finding his family. They had all disappeared from their large, palatial home a few days ago with absolutely no clue as to what had happened or who had taken them. Byran had waited for some kind of word or ransom demand – so far nothing.
Well, what Byran didn’t know that his wife and daughters weren’t snatched for any ransom – and they were all being held in seperate apartments that were located in one of the most neglected and substandard slum buildings that he owned. The kidnappers were out for any of ol’ Byran’s money; they were out for revenge on his sorry ass.
Andrew was proud of his wife and girls, bragged about their beauty all the time. Well, at the moment, there were some people who were also appreciating them. At lot.
For a fortyish Mom, Mrs. Byran still looked plenty good. Looked as almost as good as her daughters. Big LeRoy sure thought so and so did his buddy and their girlfriends. Mrs. Byran had been getting fucked hard in her cunt and ass for the past two nights. And those two black bitches had been using her tongue so much that it was raw. She got some rest when Leroy had gone to work – but he was back now….
“Ummmm….Yeah, bitch, stroke that dick ’till it’s real hard! Yeahhh, you got some soft hands….. Yeahhhhhh. Been thinkin’ about that pussy of yours all damn day and couldn’t wait to get back home and give you more of my hard fuckin’. And after you get through givin’ it up, me and my homeboy’s goin’ down the hall and get a sample of what your daughters can put out. Word is they is got some real good pussy…”
Down the hall, Darren was gettin’ ready to take his turn on 19 year-old Myra Byran. Myra was exhausted, sore and scared. So many brown and black cocks; so much flogging from their belts and paddles. Last week she had been preparing for her role as one of society’s newest debutants; now she was being forced into being a whore, her slim body handled crudely and her holes slammed deep by an assortment of large cocks.
Darren nuzzled Myra from behind, his sour liquored breath on her cheek and shoulder. “You ready for some mo’ big dick?
Sure hopes you is, ’cause I’m hard and ready, bitch! Know what I’m sayin’?”
“Please, don’t,” Myra pleaded. ” Please let me rest. I can’t take any more…”
“What you talkin’ ’bout, bitch? You’ll take everything that I wanna give ya. You ain’t back home in yo’ big mansion and shit – you is here in this stickin’ run-down ghetto with a brother whose cock is gettin’ ready for mo’ of that sweet pussy you gots!”
“No…no…” She begged as Darren bent her over.
“Bitch. No-good white bitch…” He muttered as his large cockhead began to dig it’s way into her cunt.
Darren sure did enjoy his hour or so of ridin’ Myra’s tight pussy. The gal didn’t have a lot of meat on her hips but she sure could move them real good when she had to. The bitch gyrated them slim hips so good that she had Darren emptyin’ his balls again and again, gruntin’ and cursin’ as he pumped her cunt full of his semen. But Darren wasn’t one to rest on his laurels; it wasn’t over 15 mintues until that cock of his was twitchin’ and wantin’ more of what Myra had to give.
Upper-class white gals like Myra Byran didn’t have a lot of experience with anal – but kidnapped white girls sure learned about it fast. Learned that down in the ghetto, the brothers liked nothin’ better than the feelin’ of their cocks in a tight behind. ‘Specially a tight white behind.
Darren wasn’t gentle as he began forcing his big cock into captive Myra’s ass. He didn’t let up on the pressure when she cried and begged him to stop.
“Keep that ass of yours still, bitch – or I’m gonna start carvin’ my initials in ya! Yeah, yeahhhh, keep it right there…..Uhhhh, you gots some kinda tight ass, don’t ya? Here, lemme shove so mo’ of my meat in there….yeahhhhh!
“You cryin’ and all right now, but after me and the boys done finished with ya, you gonna be movin’ that ass just like any ho’ down on the street.”
Futher down the hall, in Apartment No. 307, Jorge Mancon was having such a good time watching the interaction between his girlfriend Bonita and the Byran girl, Annette. Every since the night that Annette was dragged into their apartment and sold to them for the grand amount of twenty dollars, the randy, crude and heavily tattooed Bonita had seemed determined to make life miserable for her – as though being repeatedly raped by Jorge was not miserable enough.
Jorge did not know whether Bonita’s tormenting of their pretty captive was from jealousy or some other need; all he knew was that he enjoyed seeing his middle-aged Mexican girlfriend ‘s harse treatment of Annette. He had just face-fucked the Byran girl, trembling and enjoying every moment as he used her submissive mouth to bring himself to yet another powerful cum; his big dick had hit the back of her throat and pulsed wildly as it spewed thick loads of his cum-cream down her throat. A thrill made even more satisfying by the way the throughly-cowed Annette resisting the urge to gag as she obediently gulped and swallowed every last droup of his slimy juice – and by how her pretty, tearful eyes looked into his while she swallowed his gunk, just as he had demanded. Si, she had satisfyed him, but it was now Bonita’s turn…
Bonita was enjoying her daily torment of this fine-lookin’ Anglo bitch that had been thrust into their lives. Bonita Rameriz resented how her Jorge spent so much time fuckin’ Annette. Sure, Jorge didn’t neglect Bonita’s needs, but he was never as wild with her as much as he was with their captive. Bonita would make sure to remind the girl at every turn of where her true place was. She had began things by using her hairbrush and belt on Annette, beating her hard and without mercy. It only took a few minutes for Annette to obey the older woman’s demand for her to keep quiet as she was beaten. Only after Annette huched over on the floor at her feet, mutely submitting to all the blows, did Bonita ease up on her hard flailing of the girl’s body. Only then did she give Annette the honor of letting her wet pussy and putrid-tasting asshole.
Now Bonita was going to let Annette mouth and tongue satisfy her once again. But not before she took the time to put both herself and Annette in the right mood for the special love that was going to happen between them…..
Bonita used her wooden hairbrush, giving her cute slave Annette a sharp, hard wacking on her already-bruised buttocks as she pushed the anguished girl toward the spare bedroom.
“You know you a bitch, si? You lowly bitch, one pale, dumb Anglo bitch who gets what she deserves, si?” Bonita’s eyes were glazed from a combination of both malice and lust as she continued to inflict pain on Annette.
“Get into that room, whore. See that little belt on the bed? I went out and buy it just for you. It good leather, just the right size. So get into there now, bitch. I will whip you bad, make you scream big time. But I whip harder when you scream harder, si?
“Or maybe you be nice, be quiet as I fun myself by hurting you. Maybe you beg me to do what I want. Maybe you show me you ready be my girl. Maybe you tell me you mine now. You want belong to me? I let Jorge still fuck you, but you say you mine and you be my girl…”
Myra had been allowed a precious night of sleep. She slept soundly, her body so tired and weary from seemingly endless rape-fuckings that she had endured since being captured. But the morning came too soon – and with it came a big thug named Maurice. Myra had awoke as he walked in the door.
“Hey, baby. See you as good-lookin’ like they said you’d be. They said you fuck good, girl. Well, that’s good, ’cause I be good, too. Me and you gonna spend the mornin’ together, take our time. You don’t have to worry ’bout no other guys comin’ in to jump on ya, only think you gotta worry ’bout is bein’ able to take all this big dick of mine…
“Now, no need bein’ all afraid of this dick, girl – the white girls all cry and thrash around when I first put it to ’em, but eventually they learn to take it all. But they still cry a lot. So it’s gonna be with you. Look at this cock, bitch. You like ’em huge like mine? Here, put your hand on it, try put your fingers ’round it. Yeah, baby, it be huge. Maurice’s gonna make you forget all ’bout them other fellas, gonna make you cry and call my name…..”
Andrea Byran was a cute and pixie-faced 18 yer-old, the youngest girl of the family. She had been due to arrive at her college dorm today, beginning her adventure as a college freshman. This was the day that she had been supposed to meeting new campus friends and exchanging views and thinking about her classes.
Instead, behind lock doors down in the conveted basement apartment one of the dilapidated buildings ironically owned by her father, Andrea was being forced to learn another way of life. A way of life lived by the two street whores who eagerly watched every moment of Adrea’s forced prostitution as they all shared the little apartment across from the furnace room down on the lowest floor. The two whores giggled and snickered whenever Andrea cried out in pain from what a particular cock was doing to her or when she gagged as yet another customer jacked his supply of warm sperm in her unwilling mouth. That Anglo girl had been so proud and defiant when the Latino pimp, Enrique, first dragged her inside the door, they chuckled. But she wasn’t so proud now….
The pimp Enrique was pleased with how this abducted Anglo bitch named Andrea had earned him a nice piece of change by obediently fucking the line of customers who had come to sample the ‘new girl’. After a night of Enrique’s special brand of rape and punishment, a new girl was usually cowed into submission enough to begin a new life as a common whore – but one could never be absolutely sure. So he and his two other regular whores had watched Andrea’s performance and behavior very closely, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of resistance but Andrea submitted her self to every customer. There was only the occasional soft sobbing from Andrea as another satisfied client rewarded her good behavior with a hearty deposit of his cum….
It was not every day that a pretty white kidnapped girl was so cooperative to all her customers. Not every day could such a captured piece of fine young pussy please so many relentless cocks. As a pimp, it was all Enrique could ask for. What a money-maker this gal would be. Such a girl deserved a nice, long, hard fucking from Enrique himself to show her his appreciation. Pimps know how to fuck well and how to dominate whatever whore they’re putting it to. Now poor Andrea was beginning to whimper under Enrique’s hard assault on her virgin anus.
“Si, si, puta. Enrique likes this tight ass of yours. Enrique goin’ make you like takin’ his cock up your ass,” Enrique grunted as his strong hands gripped Andrea’s hips tightly, keeping her in place, the right place, to take the full force of his slong, slamming cock.
Dr. Igor Viktor’s private asylum scheme was going along just fine. The monies that he and his extended family were earning from his asylum business far outdistanced the day-to-day costs of the operation and the amount of the myriad of bribes paid to the police, politicians and various agencies that helped the Viktor clan run this large clinic under the radar and by their own rules.
Some people wondered just how a private asylum managed to turn such a profit that allowed the Doctor to flaunt his wealth of fancy cars, expensive suits, fine dining and frequent overseas vacations – but they didn’t wonder aloud. Trouble always seemed to follow those who showed too much interest in how the Viktors did things.
Right now the Doctor and a small group of staff was in the midst of interviewing and inspecting yet another pretty young lady for the purposes of admitting her as the latest ‘patient’ of the Viktor Clinical Asylum. The lady, until last night a student at the local polytechnic university, was named Natasha Gominskitari. Ms. Gominsktari was reeling in pain and confusion from the effects of a very severe but controlled ‘interview’ at the hands of two of the Doctor’s nieces, Olga and Dimi. Ms. Gominsktari, or Natasha, had only been ungagged and untied a few minutes when Olga and Dimi Viktor entered the tiny cell, Olga with her leather short whip and Dimi clutching her bamboo cane, and without a word spoken, proceeded to beat her all of her shapely body for the next hour. It was the typical greeting given to a new involuntary inmate ( the only kind ) at the Viktor Asylum. Only after they hauled her up off the floor at the end of their ‘greeting session’ did they speak.
“You will keep your mouth shut. You will only speak when you are spoken to. Otherwise, you will be quiet. If you do not follow what I said, you will be punished twice as long and twice as hard as your first session with us. Try to escape or resist in the slightest way and we will hurt you more badly, so very, very much more badly. Do not speak, nod if you understand.”
Natasha was not speaking, only cringing as Dimi Viktor rough hands pinched and prodded her sore body as she admired her handiwork.
“You see, Igor, you see what beautiful work me and Olga have done on this pretty thing? Such nice markings. So much pink and so little red and purple…..”
Dr. Viktor, now beginning to masturbate his long dick while he took in the form of the distressed Natasha. As he always did, Viktor would be fucking this latest addition within a few minutes. He loved the marching of a terrified, disoriented new inmate into the adjoining room with it’s big bed and shackles and the long evening of raping of her holes. ” Yes, Dimi, you’re both getting much better. Showing more restraint and control. It’s so much better not to have a girl body flawed by permanent markings or scars. Our clients are very discerning, so it makes them happier to be able to purchase a smooth-skinned product.”
The Doctor spoke to the big nurse who sat beside him and the hulking gentleman who stood behind them. “Don’t you agree, Maria?
“Of course, Igor. You know me; nothing I enjoy better than a smooth-skinned girl,” Maria chuckled.
“I don’t give a shit,” goofed Joseph, his black eyes staring hard at Natasha from beneath a jutting brow. “Doesn’t matter when I’ve got my cock stuffed up her ass….”
Igor smirked and shook his head. “Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. You must learn to savor, to appreciate….”
“Fuck ’em. I just fuck ’em,” Joseph observed.
The Viktor Clinical Asylum’s ground floor offices and facilities were quite nondescript in their appearance but that blandness served to mask the existence of a vast three-level subterranean complex of slave-holding cells, dungeons and other unsavory rooms located directly underneath. Built originally by the old police state as a secret interrogation and torture center for political prisoners, it’s existence was still unknown to the ordinary villagers who lived in the area. Dr. Viktor, an ex-member of the secret police’s covert interrogation unit, had realized the complex’s potential for ‘commercial’ use when he worked there; working at his specialty of combining both physical and psychological torture techniques in the breaking, and sometimes turning, of difficult prisoners. He had been quite good at his work: Almost 90% of his victims ended up providing him and his superiors with valuable information; 40% had been completely turned and sent back to spy on and betray their original masters. But, alas, all that ended with the break-up of the old police state but Dr. Viktor had foreseen it all coming and also foresaw the nature of the corrupt, money-driven ‘democracy’ that was destined to replace it. At the very start of the initial chaotic early days of the new order, the doctor, using a combination of bribes and old political connections, had swiftly moved to take ownership of the complex. And the Viktor Clinical Asylum was born. Dr. Viktor had an unique business plan for his ‘clinic’. The few genuine patients that he housed on the main floor were merely a cover for the more lucrative – and thoroughly illegal – Viktor family operation that was being conducted directly beneath them.
The underground compound was jovially referred to simply as ‘ the Cellar’ by the Viktors, although this did little to describe the vastness and complexity of it’s dingily and convoluted environs. And while the false clinic above was a model of quiet and calmness, the action down in the Cellar was frentic and unsettling. And right now it was very unsettling to recently-arrived prisoner Bartali Nyskiya as she was being led to the small hole-like ‘No. 3’ cell that would be her home until she had undergone her first series of ‘evolutions’ before being put in with other prisoners.
“Now this is going to be your first little stopping place with us until we decide more about you,”Nurse Yuni Viktor informed Bartali. “It’s small but if you curl yourself up a bit, you fit into it just fine.. That’s unless you want to stay out here with Joseph. By the way he’s salivating over you, I can tell he already wants to get to know you better…..”
“Damn right,” Joseph grunted, his perpetually hard cock snaking out from his unzipped pants. “Yeah, I want some of that pussy… you’ll be glad to be out of that hole and have the roughest shag of your life!”
There were so many girls to be abused and enslaved. So many innocent pussies to be explored; so many pretty lips to be put to use, Nurse Yuni could hardly find the time to really get to know each one. But that didn’t dampen her overall enthusiasm for the perks of her position. In her younger days, Yuni, so overweight and unattractive – like practically every other member of the Viktor clan – had despaired at her meager prospects for a full and robust sex life. Her looks were a barrier against finding either a male or female partner as an outlet for her pent-up desires. Down here in the Cellar, there was a practically endless supply of young, beautiful prisoners who would never turn her away when she came at night to visit them in their cell or to take one of them to her own private chambers in the section that housed the staff quarters. None of them would refuse her advances or back away at the sight of her oversized grossness. None would hesitate to let their trembling mouths and tongues be used to worship at Yuni’s huge hanging breasts and nipples or to burrow under the folds of heavy fat in order to nuzzle and lick at Yuni’s dank, smelly cunt….
Lately, Yuni’s attentions had been aroused by the prisoner Ivaniya, a tall blonde whose beautiful face and body was immediate evidence of her past modeling career. Just under a month ago, Ivaniya’s pretty face and form had graced the cover of an international women’ magazine and she had begun to attraction the attention of rich men who now wanted her. Now it was Nurse Yuni who wanted her – again.
C> Nurse Yuni’s tongue was strong and so very insistent as it aggressively intertwined with Ivaniya’s. Ivaniya fought back the urge to retch as the thick, slimy saliva fron the big nurse’s thick tongue coated her own and invaded her throat. ” Ohhh, you’re quite a kisser, my sweet Ivaniya. You really like kissing me, don’t you? ”
“Y-Yes. Yes, Nurse Yuni……..I like kissing you…”
“Mmmmm….let me suck that tongue of yours….so sweet and dainty. You use it so well, too! You want me to take back to my bedroom so you can use it to eat my pussy and ass like you did last night? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Ivaniya’s mind cringed at the memory of the rank, sour places that her mouth had explored the nigh before, of the foul tastes that had stayed with her for hours afterwards, no matter how many times she had rinsed our her mouth with water. But she had no choice; she never would.
“Yes, Mistress, I’d like that…”
Dr. Igor Viktor might have been described somewhat accurately as a cruel man by those he had worked with and especially by those whom he worked on, but when it came to dealing with his immediate and extended family, he had always been quite caring and considerate. The other members could count on Igor’s being there to help them and to look after their needs. Igor’s second cousin, Mikhail, had always been mistakenly considered a half-wit as a result of his distorted and misshapened looks. But inside, Mikhail was quite normal – as far as being a Viktor, that is. Igor had been looking our for Mikhail since childhood and that had not changed through all the years. The Doctor knew that his deformed, drooling relative’s looks repelled women and he set out to make sure that Mikhail would enjoy a sex life that most men could only dream of having. One new pretty female prisoner each week, that was Dr. Viktor’s ongoing present to Mikhail. One new girl to satisfy his ever need; to fuck, to use, to hurt.
“Here’s your girl for the week, cousin. Got the nice tits, just like you prefer. Now, now , patience!Wait until we get her to your room; it’s soundproof and we both know how you make them yell and scream, don’t we?”
Joseph was always horny. He just couldn’t seem to get enough sex during his waking hours. In the Cellar, it was quite common to see Joseph walking around with his huge dick hanging out of his pants. When searching for him, the other knew that they could usually find him by following the loud, anguished moans of whatever female prisoner that he was fucking at the time. One couldn’t fault the poor girls for making so much noise – after all, Joseph’s shaft was truly so big and thick that it usually required a woman to use both hands to completely encircle it’s girth. Even older brother Igor had been forced to reprimand Joseph after two unfortunate slaves had died from internal injuries caused by that monstrous freak of a cock that stretched, rammed and ripped their insides. ” Damn it all, Joseph, you’re going to ruin me!” Igor had been so furious. ” I pay for every one of these slaves and you’re costing me money! Control yourself, Joseph, or else you’re going to force me to make some decisions that I promise you won’t like!” Igor was one who hardly ever raised his voice, so Joseph immediately knew that he had better take his brother’s advice. The Doctor was a patient, caring sibling – but Joseph knew that losing money was not something that Igor would accept and he also knew better than take the chance of finding out exactly what Igor meant by ‘some decisions’. But controlling himself hadn’t been all that difficult; and after all, the bitches all screamed and cringed as Joseph’s cock slowly stretched their holes and cried and begged so delightfully as he rode them…..
Joseph stood at the doorway of one of the cells that housed multiple slaves, scanning over the various frightened faces and shifting bodies. It had been more than two hours since he had last fucked and his balls were already protesting from the replenished cum supply that filled them to the point that they almost felt like they were about to burst. He looked hard at all of the girls there, trying to decide. The pretty dark-haired slave with the round face, yes.
” It’s your lucky day, girl. I enjoyed ramming that tight pussy of yours so much the other night that I totally forgot to see how you take it up the ass! All these other bitches have given their butt-holes to me , so I guess this is going to your chance to see what you’ve been missing! When I bring you back, you can swap stories with your cellmates about how hard it was to take Igor’s dick and how long it took for your to start begging for mercy….”
The prisoner’s name was Zhanna. Zhanna, just three days after celebrating her twenty-second birthday, had been kidnapped while jogging alone on the rural road that fronted her family’s house. She had been planning to emigrate to England, to join her older sister there. Zhanna was one who yearned for new surroundings and new experiences. But in the four days since she had been abducted so swiftly and violently, Zhanna had been subjected to a variety of ‘new experiences’ of the type that she would have never have imagined even in her nightmares. In fact, she was still hoping that all of this was just some nightmare that she would eventually wake up from, glad that it was finally over. But this nightmare was so real, as was the punishments and the hurtful anal fuckings that she had endured from the Doctor, then the almost hellish night of rape from the huge-cocked Joseph. She had shrieked at the top of her voice as Igor had repeatedly butt-fucked her up in his private room, but that experience was almost mild in comparison to the overwhelming agony caused by her tortured anus being rawly stretched by the wideness of Joseph’s phallus. To add to her distress, Joseph had encased her in a straitjacket that kept her from being able to shift away for his battering of her asshole. The only shifting was done by him; he liked seeing her helpless to do anything but surrender to his relentless pounding from behind.
It had been over two hours of ass-rape and Zhanna had begun to hope that Joseph was finally finished with her – but she was wrong. After a break of about ten minutes, Joseph’s huge cock had started to swell again and he wanted more. He guided her into position, this time making her lower herself down anally over his shaft. Zhanna winched in pain as she was forced to slowly impale her protesting asshole with that oversized dick of his.
“Uhhhhh……That’s the way, bitch,” Joseph grunted from behind her as he felt the warm snugness of her anal walls tight against his cock. ” Now when you all the way down, I want you to slide that ass of yours up then slam it down hard so that your cheeks bounce against my balls. Don’t worry, I’ll guild you and hold you steady but I expect you to start slamming that asshole down all the way each fucking time. You understand?”
Nurse Zoya Viktor hadn’t had any formal training in the nursing arts, but she certainly took to her role at the Asylum – especially down in the depths of the Cellar. The Cellar, with all those frightened lasses who had been snatched, abused and were now so willing to do as they were told. Because of her unattractive face and rotund figure ( a Viktor family trait ), Zoya’s earlier years had been devoid of love and sexual attention. She had watched her friends ( the few that she had ) enjoy the pleasures of being pursued by men while she languished at home, alone and ignored.
But here in the cellar, in her own little private room, Zoya was now making up for all those bad years. Her friends were probably fretting over their kitchen cooking and crying brats; Zoya didn’t have to worry about that. Her only concern now was how to extract the maximum pleasure from her chosen slavegirls.
Nurse Zoya preferred having her slave earn the right to eat her pussy, so the petite captive Varvara was obediently beginning by worshipping her toes. The huge nurse was in no hurry; her arousal would build slowly, more and more, as the slave sucked each toe before being allowed up to spend a long period of time licking every inch of Zoya’s ample body before instructed to suck on Zoya’s hard nipples. Only after all this would Varvara’s mouth be gently guided down to Zoya’s waiting pussy, a pussy that, by now, would be frothing with it’s juices…
The Viktor Asylum was a business, a family business – but a business that brought more than the normal amount of pleasure to the family. The Viktor clan was an extensive one; there were so many Viktors who worked at the clinic. So many who had become addicted to all the perverted entitlements and privileges that came from having the absolute power of life and death over those poor, powerless slavegirls under their control.
Nata and Tatyana Viktor had certain needs that were quenched by exercising brutality along with their sex and the Cellar allowed them to act out their most savage urges. For the clinic, captives were evaluated and judged as to their fitness as assets to the Asylum’s business needs. Certain captives were judged as ones that might eventually lose their slave mentality and become defiant and unreliable – and this was something that simply could not be tolerated. Nata and Tatyana had first rights to those slavegirls labelled as “risks”. The two big dykes loved nothing better than using their fists on a sweet bitch, punishing her hard in between periods of having her lick their pussies and suck their assholes. They would make it last for hours before they would eventually beat her to death. For these two, this was the ultimate in sexual satisfaction.
Evginia had been judged to be a possible risk by her Asylum evaluators; in their opinion, she was one who could never be truly trusted to remain a reliable slave to whoever owned her. Thus, she was shoved into the small cell in which Tatyana and Nata Viktor awaited her.
“Ahh, here she is,” chuckled Nata as she reached for the wide-eyed Evginia. “Come here, girl. Come to Nata, don’t make me wait! Bring that pretty face closer so that I can introduce my fist to it, bitch!”
“No, you come here, you worthless little cunt,” shouted Tatyana. “My sister might be taller, but I’m a lot stronger and I can give your pissy face a bigger punch! Don’t make me angry….!”
Miyan Viktor might be just some overweight nerd up in the outside world, but down in the Cellar he was a god. Down here, he never lacked for a pretty girl to fully appreciate his enormous cock. Those overly-picky and bitchy women outside didn’t know what they were missing when they rejected him on the basis of his girth, ugly face and bad breath; they never gave themselves the chance to gaze upon and experience Miyan’s 13-inch shaft. But luckily, the Asylum provided him with the most compliant and yielding slavegirls; girls who would not refuse, girls who would do everything that he wanted…
But this new girl was special – or more accurately, a special order. This girl was Zalina. Zalina, who had resided in the apartment next to Miyan’s. Zalina, who had laughed as she rebuffed his pitiful attempt at courtship. The same Zalina who had been accosted as she walked out to her car last night. Zalina was not laughing now as she finally realized her situation. It’s amazing what a night of listening to the screams of females being whipped and tortured can do to make a previously prideful and rude young woman become more cooperative and sensible. And Miyan enjoyed how cooperative, how fearfully cooperative Zalina had become as he pulled her close to him so that she could have a better view of that massive dick….
“Think you can take all this cock in that little pussy of yours? Well, we’ll see, “Miyan taunted as he guided Zalina’s hand to his impressive member. He liked the fear on the captive’s face and how her fingers trembled as they were forced to touch and examine every inch of that throbbing meat of his. “You rejected me before, but I’m going to make you regret pushing me away for all those pretty boys of yours. None of them will ever have fucked you like I’m going to fuck you – like I’m going to be fucking you. Yes, you don’t have to worry about getting the attention you deserve; I promise that I’ll be here to ride you hard each time I visit – and I plan to visit you every day.”
“Now put your fingers around it and stroke it slowly…Yes, yes, that’s it. It’s so big, isn’t it? Take your time, get real acquainted with it, bitch. Worship it. Mmmmm, you have such soft hands. Keep it up for a while and then I’ll let you ask me to let you start sucking on it. Ahhhhhh…..it’s going to be so good to hear you scream when I get around to fucking you. They all end up screaming when I fuck them…..”
The man known as ‘ the Major ‘ was a frequent visitor who had a preference for upper-class blondes with perfect bodies. The Major was an old friend of Igor Viktor; they had worked together in the years before ‘democracy’ came to the country and they still maintained their relationship. After all, the combination of the Major’s contacts and Igor’s clinical facilities was mutually beneficial.
Natalya was just the kind of woman that the Major liked. Born into the family of a prominent industrialist and a member of the social scene, she was well-educated and proud of her effect on the men around her. Things had changed two week ago, though. Things were so different since those gun-toting strangers had burst into her luxurious apartment in the heart of the city that night. The dank, musty walls and cold concrete floors of this unknown place. And the gross, hairy, bloated body of this strange man who was going to fuck her with his thick cock….
Still in shock from the belt-flogging just inflicted on her, Natalya cried as the Major settled down on her, crushing some of her breath out of her lungs with the weight of his heavy body. She felt the prickly scratching of his body hairs against her soft, smooth skin and that particular pressure from a firmness against her belly. Then that pressure shifted as the Major started to reposition himself on top of her.
“You’re such a pretty and proud gal, aren’t you? Well, I like them pretty and proud,” the Major grunted as he slowly, teasingly guided his dick towards her clinched pussy. ” But you won’t be proud for long, my dear. Before I’m done with you, you’ll be huffing and humping just like the lowest whores on the street….”
For all the pleasures afforded to those who worked there, the primary aim of the Viktor Clinical Asylum was still business, a highly secretive business. The Asylum’s principal sources of monies came from it’s selling of slaves and the on-site offerings made to it’s well-heeled clientele in the form of slave-holding cells, special sex shows and torture/killing facilities. That clientele kept the Viktor Asylum’s coffers flush with profits in return for being able to totally indulge themselves in the most severe and outrageous perversions with those unfortunate slavegirls provided them; there were no limits or prohibitions – and located in the deepest depths of the Cellar, there was an well-designed and multi-layered system for the disposal of bodies….
Admitted through an secret entrance, the Asylum’s guests and clients would look forward to being presented with the most recently-acquired slaves; some having been thoroughly trained, some half-trained and some who were fresh and relatively untouched or slightly used – depending on the needs and preferences of those who came to avail themselves of what there was to offer. The Auctions was always popular and well-attended affairs. All the buyers were trusted, long-time clients of the Viktor; some purchasing slaves for their personal uses, others as brokers representing certain rich customers located far-way.
It was only mid-morning, but there was already a small crowd of interested clients down in the Auction Room. Business was going to be brisk today; all the slaves would probably be sold before nightfall. Nurse Yuni was now bringing the sweet Oksana up to the auction block for the guests’ consideration. The nurse would be somewhat sad to see this particular slave go; Oksana had a way with a clit. Very talented lips and a long, wet tongue that really had the knack of working it’s way inside an asshole in the most thrilling manner….
“This is a very promising slave, my dear friends. You have real quality here, a girl who will be an extraordinary sexual servant for even the most discerning owner. She’s well-bred and has the most beautiful set of tits and a tight pussy that will firmly hug your cock or fist. This one’s a real ‘keeper’, one who’ll you’ll want to keep throughout the rest of your days or leave in your will! So let’s not start out with any insulting low bids on this one, people….”
Mr. and Mrs. Growsleski had just purchased the cutie-pie named Anna for the equivalent of eighty thousand American dollars. They would also pay the Viktor Asylum an additional five thousand a month to keep Anna there in her own small holding cell so that she would be available to them whenever they wished to visit her and enjoy her services.
Anna had been a stewardess in her former life; traveling to all corners of the world in her three years of employment with a large air carrier. She had seen so many things, had experiences so many things for a girl of twenty-one. Now, in her new capacity as an newly-bought sex-slave, she was being subjected to her first experience at the end of Mrs. Growleski’s oversized strap-on dildo.
“Yes, my love, my dear love – stay just like that….. keep that pretty little ass right there….. yes, that’s it. You see, isn’t it so much better when you just stay still and let it happen? Oh, I felt that little quiver. I know it hurts, darling – this shaft is such a big hard rubber thing, isn’t it? So thick, so long. You’re so sweet, so good….That’s why I’m opening up your asshole a little at a time; that’s why I’m being so gentle with you.”
“It’s okay if you cry, I won’t get mad….. Ohhhh, stay still…. you’ve only got a third more of it to take before it’s to the hilt. Then I’ll start to fuck you, girl, and it’s going to drive you crazy. My husband loves to watch when I fuck a girl’s ass with this thing – fuck her like only another woman to fuck her. It’ll take you a few months to get used to it. Then I’ll introduce you to my really huge strap-on…..”
“I do wish that you wouldn’t be so upset,” Mister Bunzenski chuckled as he watched Nadia futile struggles against the bindings that held her firmly in place.
“After all, I am your cousin. A bit older than you, perhaps, but still very much virile and able to keep your legs open every night. It’s a shame to have to inflict so much discomfort and pain on that wonderful, tight little body of yours. Are you sure that you won’t reconsider your stubborn refusal of my attentions? After all, it’s only going to delay the inevitable, my dear. it might take days or weeks or even months, but I promise you that you’ll eventually end up begging me for my cock every night! I don’t mind using my belt on you – in fact, I rather enjoy things like this and I’m very good at it. But I’d much rather be spending the time fucking you instead of breaking you, my beautiful Nadia….”
But Nadia’s only response was to cry even more desperately. Mister Bunzenski hadn’t really expected her to give in, of course. The delectable 20 year-old was still in a state of panic, confusion and pain. He knew that it was going to require at least a couple of months of punishment training to thoroughly break Cousin Nadia in so that he could begin the process of molding her into the perfect, obedient slave of a whore that he would keep permanently imprisoned in the cozy secret dungeon suite that he had specially designed and built for her at his secluded country estate. He was in no hurry; the breaking and training of Nadia would be just as enjoyable as the many long and vigorous fuck-sessions that he would subject her to when he visited her in that dungeon….
“Alright, my dear,” I think that you’ve rested enough. “Mr. Bunzenski moved around behind the suspended Nadia, his hand gripping the heavy leather belt.
“This time I’m going to put a little more weight behind my swings. Don’t worry, cousin, this one’s only going to last for a half-hour or so. After all, we don’t want my arm to get all tired or strained, do we?”
While some of the Clinic’s clientele preferred to do their own training, quite a few others opted to make use of Dr. Viktor’s ‘Thorough Slave Preparation’ service. It might be somewhat expensive, but the Doctor’s special program entailing a combination of chemical and physical regimens had a well-deserved reputation for turning out slaves who were unmatched in their devotion, loyalty and subservience to their owners. In the many years since this program was introduced, there was yet to be a single report of failure. In fact, the clinic was constantly receiving feedback for it’s satisfied customers, extolling the virtues of their slaves. One reoccurring theme was the amazement of having one’s slave refusing to think of escaping even when clearly left alone and given the opportunity to walk away. There was a long waiting list of this service but the owners were clearly willing to wait their turn; it was well worth it.
Slave Denistra didn’t have to wait any longer. A rich, middle-aged oil executive who had arranged her abduction after spotting her working in one of his offices and deciding that Denistra was just the kind of cute bitch who would be perfect to serve he and his wife as a live-in whore, nanny and sex-party companion. Now Denistra could only wince as Nurse Bavia slowly injected the first of a series of Doctor Viktor’s special chemical concoctions into her neck.
“Now, now, hold still, girl.” Nurse Bavia liked to use the needle and this was only the first of four injections that she would give Denistra over the next three hours. “That’s it, just let it flow in, feel it as it spreads…”
In the next few minutes, the slavegirl would be screaming at the top of her voice as the chemical started to excite almost every pain nerve in her body. Nurse Bavia always loved watching that part, how they fell thrashing to floor, their bodies and faces contorted in spasms of agony….
The Kaprov brothers, Ivan and Beni, liked keeping their new slave, Marisel, in line with the application of abuse and humiliation. Marisel journey into slavery had started when she cut the Kaprov’s car off in traffic and added insult to injury by responding with a litany of choice curse words when they complained; words quite unfitting for an upper-class member of the society set. The two swarthy-skinned men looked unimpressive, not the type who could cause trouble for her, she thought as she drove away. But laughing and tossing profanities at two brothers who just happened to be the feared chief enforcers for one of the country’s biggest organized crime bosses is sometimes not a very good idea, as Marisel learned when those large, hooded men broke into her apartment and grabbed her two night later.
Imprisoned in the cell that Ivan and Beni had reserved down in the cellar of the Viktor Clinic, Marisel had soon discovered another side of life as she was whipped and flogged for hours on end by her two captors. Her privileged upbringing and social standing were becoming distant memories now as the brothers treated her worse than the lowest street whore. And Marisel now was their whore, giving and moving her now-raw holes just the way they wanted as the both of them fucked her, debased her, grunting as they repeatedly spewed their semen deep inside her.
After two months of the most intensely brutal treatment, slave Marisel had been stripped of all pride and self-worth; her two owners made sure of that. They were always thinking of new ways of firmly showing Marisel her place, making sure that her snobbish days were long gone.
But now her status of being their lowly whore of a slave was now made even more clear to her as they laughed as they both jacked off their loads of thick cum to serve as an additional topping to the already rancid meal that they had deposited for her to eat.
Not all of those slave owners who used the Clinic’s facilities were into perversion and abuse. Some were plain, ordinary persons of wealth who just liked to come there to visit their kept slavegirls in order to enjoy a good fuck. Sergei might have purchased Levetia at one of the clinic’s slave auctions, but that didn’t mean that he was a bad guy or someone unusual. Sergei Molotov was merely a man who worked hard overseeing his widespread network of varied businesses during the week and who needed a pretty piece of blond fuckmeat on his weekends. What could be so wrong about that?
And Sergei wasn’t a man who needlessly engaged in physical or verbal abuse of his slave. Of course there was the matter of his using that thin leather strap on her lithe body – but he only did that to get her warmed up and primed for the repeated bouts of sex that they’d be engrossed in over the weekend days and nights. Of course Levetia might cry as he pile-droved her pussy with that slightly oversized cock of his, but surely those were tears of joy. And Levetia might beg for him to stop because her cunt and asshole were raw and sore, but she probably was just saying that to keep him hard and excited. He knew that she was just pretending when she made those faces when he would pull his pulsing shaft out of her ass and shove it in her mouth so that she had the honor of swallowing all that cum and milking him dry with her talented lips. Yes, Sergei was just a considerate slave owner….
Sergei loved how his slave Levetia groaned as he drove his dick deep into her. He had positioned her so that each hard thrust was slamming against the very back wall of her captive pussy. This was the fourth fucking in the last two hours; Sergei loved fucking, loved to fuck hard and relentlessly.
“Ohhhhhh…Please! Oh, God, it hurts!!!! Noooooooo….uhhhhhhhhh…!” Her voice was high, trembling….
Sergei smiled as he began to fuck even harder, faster. ” Mmmmm…You’re such a tease, pretending you don’t like it just to make me keep going. But we know you are really liking it, You’re are liking it…..”
There were also some very warm and moving scenarios happening in various locations in the clinic’s Cellar. Not everything was doom and gloom. Take the cell occupied by Anna Pavolva, for example. Anna had been enslaved there for the past year by a conspiracy among her three elder aunts and her uncle. It was the perfect way to have her out of the way while they controlled the large inheritance meant for Anna by her late father. They could just as easily killed Anna and assumed her riches, but she was a blood relative, after all. And besides, Aunties Olga, Sofia, Katia and Uncle Ivan had taken a particular liking for the things that Anna could do for them if given the proper incentives. ” Our little niece is so talented for being only nineteen,” Auntie Sofia was fond of saying, remembering how Anna’s obedient lips and tongue almost never failed to work her old pussy to one of those belly-shaking, thigh-flailing orgasms left her one thoroughly satisfied old lady whenever she finished another visit to the Cellar. Her siblings all agreed; Anna was one helluva nice niece. They made it a point to visit her often, wither as a group or separately…..
Today, though, it was a special occasion in Anna’s cell. It was Anna’s twentieth birthday and they were there to celebrate it with her. Of course there were her usual pleas for release – but of course that was out of the question. But there was another kind of release that her aunts and uncle had in mind…..
For slave Anna’s 20th birthday, her uncle Ivan decided to be the first to give her a unique present.
“Open your mouth girl. That’s right, open it wide. You’re going to like the taste of my piss. I’ve been drinking the most unusual lemon vodka, so it’ll probably add another flavor to my piss. Now don’t you worry, your dear uncle’s going to be giving you the hard fucking that you always get -right after you eat your Aunt Katia’s ass, okay? Look at how impatient she is; already got all her clothes off! Uhhhh…here goes the piss….ahhhhh ! You like it, don’t ya? Quit sobbing and keep swallowing……ahhhhhhhh…!”
As with all things, there are times when a slave simply doesn’t please her Owner. That is always an unfortunate circumstance, but it does happen now and then. In this case the slave Trina, although completely obedient and subservient in every way to her owner, the wealthy publisher Mr. Betinowski, it just wasn’t working out. Mr. Betinowski simply was no longer excited by her. He wasn’t the type to waste time on a failed project; Mr. Betinowski would simply rid himself of Trina and make another purchase ( maybe that tall redheaded that just recently finished her training ).
The Clinic tended to look down on recycling it’s slaves. Too much trouble and not enough profit from the resale of used goods. Mr. Betinowski was informed by the clinic’s staff of the usual methods of slave disposal; it could be done promptly and quietly for a small fee – or he could always do it himself. The thought personally disposing of his slave awakened some dark instinct deep within Betinowski. The more he thought about it……
Of the different disposal options, the deep well located in the most bottom level of the Viktor Clinic appealed to Mr. Betinowski the most……
Mr. Betinowski had told his slave Trina only that they were there to fuck. ” It’s an unusual place to fuck, don’t you think, my pretty slave? Maybe this will help to make you excite me again, the way you used to….” But when the attendant silently attached the rope leading the small stack of concrete blocks to Trina’s collar, she knew.
“Oh, no! Master! No! Please! I don’t want to die!”
To his surprise, her pitiful tears and begging caused his old cock to harden and rage. The way she used to do when he had first bought her.
“Ohhhhh, bitch, that’s it – beg me! Beg me real good and maybe I’ll let you live!” He rammed his dick hard up her ass. So tight. “I said BEG!!! You can beg better than that!!!! He was pounding her anus without mercy, his balls flapping against her buttocks.
It would take some time for Cindy Ellen’s family to put together the huge ransom that Cindy’s captors had demanded for her and her sisters’ safe return. But the mobsters weren’t worrying; they knew that the Ellen family had millions in assets and they also knew that the Ellen clan adored their young daughters. Yes, the family already had their minions busy choosing which real estate assets, treasury bonds, etc. to liquidate in order to present the twelve million dollars in cash.
In the meanwhile, Cindy would be providing some much-appreciated relief and relaxation to her captors. Of course, this was only after she had undergone a few hours of punishment. Amazing how a little bit of paddling and strap can change a 19 year-old girl’s mind when it comes to giving up all the pleasures that her body is capable of.
“C’mere, you sweet little white bitch,” one of the mobster’s girlfriend demanded loudly as she snatched Cindy by the arm. “My boyfriend says you got some good pussy, so I gonna find out how good you can be at makin’ me feel good! These other ho’s just gonna have to wait ’til me and you is done doing our thing, right?”
Big Mack’s big cock hurt so much as it started stretching open Monique’s Ellen’s virgin asshole.
“I don’t care if yo’ daddy buys you back or not”, Big Mack chuckled as his peckerhead pushed its way deeper into the captive’s anus.
“Either way, you is gonna make me some good money, whether it’s yo’ daddy’s cash or if you ends up sellin’ your pussy on the street fo’ me. Yeahhhh, either way – you is gonna make Big Mack happy!”
“Oh, Godddd…… NO!” Sweet Monique’s cute mouth screamed a cry of anguish as Mack’s black dick now was working it’s way up her ass, now almost up to the hilt.
“Ughhhhhh….. Ughhhh-h-h-h,” Monique’s head rolled side to side as Mack began pounding her close-in, pinning her back up against the rusted metal door of the dank concrete bunker.
“Don’t fight it, bitch. Give in to it. Take all of it! Give up every inch of that asshole, Bitch! Give it up!”
Myra Ellen cried both from pain and shame as her trim, elegant body tried it’s best to move in rhythm with that of her captor Jason. Her cunt was totally filled with Jason’s wide and long cock as he began to yet another rape-fuck of her once-proud body. As the eldest Ellen sister, 25 year-old Myra was used to looked up to by her two younger siblings. But she was so thankful that neither of them could see her now as she was forced to rotate and buck her hips like one common street whore.
“Yeah, gal….yeah-h-h-h…..” Jason groaned as Myra lifted her hips, lifted them just right to meet one of his jackhammer thrusts. “Yeahhhhh….just like dat,” he whispered in her ear as she obediently grinded her pussy against his cock. “Just like a ho’….” He put his weight on her now; began fucking her like the black men fucked black women down in the ghetto….
Myra’s cunt was tormented by the power of her captor’s long cock as he began again breaking her down with his cruel fucking. Her insides had spasms of pain as his big cockhead slammed hard against the deepest walls.
“Mmmmmm…You a much better fuck than yo’ sisters, bitch! After we get through, I’m gonna paddle ya until I know you gonna be real ready to put on a show for your sisters. They gonna watch ya as you shows them how to be a real ho……….”
LeRoy was taking it easy after engaging in yet another rape session of Doreen, his hostage of two days. By now, they would have discovered the note he left for her drug – dealing father to find. And her father knew that he was in no position to call the police to assist in finding Doreen. Of course, Doreen’s dad had a lot of power and muscle on his side – but LeRoy also had a lot of fellow crazy gangbangers who weren’t afraid of anybody. So right now, the only thing that had his attention was this gorgeous piece of white pussy laying beside him.
This pretty bitch was drivin’ him crazy. His huge cock was beginning to throb again, starting to swell up in size. Pre-cum forming at the head. LeRoy didn’t say anything but Doreen noticed it and pleaded, ” Please, please don’t! I’m so sore…….!”
LeRoy didn’t speak, but it was clear what he had in mind as he slowly but aggressively dug a finger, then two fingers in Doreen’s asshole.
His victim quivered with the dreadful knowledge of what was coming and that she could do nothing to stop him from doing what he wanted.
“Oh, no….No-o-o..! Please don’t……..please!” His fingers were digging deeper now, hurting her more….
LeRoy’s voice was hoarse. His dick was swelling to an almost monstrous length. “Turn over, baby. I’m gonna break you in real good…gonna teach ya to like it!”
Some women weren’t abducted for money, only for the unrestricted sex that they could provided their captors.
That was the case with Carolynn and Gloria, two college girls who got lost while exploring the Big City and made the mistake of accepting a ride from the wrong people.
They initially resisted, of course, but it only took a few hours of ‘attitude adjustment’ to make them both servile and compliant. These gang members were not patient; they wanted to fuck some white pussy and that was that.
Back at the gang’s hangout, the two captured girls learned how sex was practiced in the ‘hood. It would be almost a month before they were totally broken and put to work making money for the gang as drug-addicted, back-alley prostitutes. Never to again see their families or the people they were raised with…
Carolynn and Gloria were forced to put on quite a show back at the gang’s headquarters; the first of many such sex-shows for the amusement of their gang captors.
Gloria pretty mouth was thrilling to Bobo as she learned how to suck his black cock; managing to cause his nuts to push their supply of heavy cum up the long length of his shaft and flood into her waiting throat. Bobo threatened ” You better not spill a drop! Swallow it all!”
Carolynn was also learning to take orders and do what she was told, no matter what. And it hurt her a lot as one of the gang’s females forced her to lower her asshole and impale herself on a gang thug’s thick dick. The pain was overwhelming, but it was a way of teaching Carolynn to fuck no matter how much it hurt. She also learned the basic fact that gangsters liked to fuck girl up the ass……
Anna Peoria was a 19 year-old tourist who came to the States and was captured one night and never found. No one could discover what had become of this beautiful young from a foreign upper-class upbringing who arrived one day to visit and had simply disappeared….
What they could discover was that Anna had been a ‘Special Order’ kidnap victim; the kidnappers had spotted her as she left her hotel; saw that she almost perfectly fit the specifications put out by a powerful inner-city brothel Madam named Mama Malene. Mama Malene was tired of all those tough black gals she had been involved with over the years – ” I want one of them cute white gals with blonde hair,” the Madam had decreed. “And she gotta have a real nice tongue that can lick all my holes and make me feel good all over!”
Amazing what fifty thousand dollars can buy when the right people are contacted.
Mama had a nice little room waiting down in that big cellar of her house. Soundproof. Locked metal door. Air conditioned…
“You mine now,” Big Black Mama Malene told her thoroughly frightened slave. “I is gonna keep you until the end of my days. And if you want to live, then you is gonna have to please me every time I comes down here to visit you. I knows you hurtin’ from me punishin’ you. But if you do a good job of pleasin’ all my holes, I is gonna treat you real nice, understand? If you dares to disobey me even once, real bad things is gonna happen to ya. Real bad things!”
Anna could only cry as Mama lowered her big body down on top of hers.
“Give Mama a good kiss, sweetie. Show me how much you belongs to me….”
Mama’s thick tongue was wet and dripped thick saliva as it found Anna’s repulsed mouth …..
Betty and Beatrice’s drug-dealing father had thought that he could yet again talk his Asian suppliers into extending his repayment deadline. After all, they had done so the four previous times when it came to paying up for the high-quality heroin that sold so well on the streets. The trouble was that he had gotten into the habit of snorting half the supply up his own nose. His wife and two daughters had no idea of their dad’s true profession; he had always described his business as “import-export”. But now there would be no further doubts left about daddy’s business – and it’s unpleasant consequences upon them.
The Asian druglords had made it very clear that Dad and his entire family were going to be killed unless he had some way of coming up with the money. Dad had begged and pleaded for the lives of his wife and two daughters to be spared. No, he only could repay a half of what he owed. Could something be worked out?
Well, after looking over his beautiful cowering wife and equally attractive daughters, 18 year-old Beatrice and 20 year-old Betty, the gangsters decided something indeed could be worked out….
Betty and Beatrice and their Mom had no choice: Work off their father’s drug debt or be killed along with the rest of their family. For the next six months, the three women would serve as well-used whores for the Asian gang’s senior members who had relocated to the States. Any resistance or failure to obey would result in their ‘permanent disappearances’.
But so far, their Asian captors were pleased with the deal they had made. At the moment, Mr. Hiyashi was especially pleased as Beatrice’s pretty mouth teased the last of his cum from his cock. Mr. Hiyashi loved how these American bitches submitted to his frequent whippings in order for him to get his dick hard. After a rest, he would come back start again by rolling the beautiful mother on her back and fucking her while her two daughters were forced to watch and learn….
Cathy was crying and wilting under the repeated abuse of Senor Martinez and his wife. She had no idea of where she was – only that it was a small shack somewhere south of the border, in a place where they spoke mostly Spanish. And she also knew that it was her own father who had peddled her off in order to save his own life. The Latin drug cartel were not known for their forgiveness of monies owed to them, so Cathy’s father had made a deal. He agreed to say anything when they came to take his very attractive daughter and would plead ignorance when the authorities came to investigate her disappearance.
Senor Martinez had farmed his cocoa crops for the Cartel for many years. It was hard work, but the pay made it all worthwhile. In spite of his peasant appearance, Senor Martinez had quite a bit of money stashed away in tax-haven accounts. Yes, the money was good. And so was the Cartel’s gift of this pretty Anglo bitch for whatever use he might see fit. He was thrilled and so was Senora Martinez, who looked forward to all the pleasures that Cathy would be providing to her long-neglected old pussy…..
It was only the second night of captivity for Cathy but it had already seemed like months. And it would only get worse. Senor and Senora Martinez would keep Cathy bond and beaten for at least 6 months before they relented even a little …..
“Si, you’re getting better at your begging. I like that. My wife likes it too, I can see. But it does not matter. We will punish you for months and months before we let you have the chance to show us how grateful you are. Si, go ahead and cry all you want because it is only just beginning for you. Things are going to get worse for you here. So much worse!”
“Oh, please! Mercy!”
“No, girl. There will be no mercy for you yet. Be patient! There will a day when you will not remember even your name and you be so happy to work hard in the fields and so anxious to service the both of us in bed…”
Milo and his partner had purposely let the dance club owner get behind in his payments for all the heroin that he had been putting up his nose. Milo knew that the club owner, a man named Damon Clives, was weak-willed and didn’t have a brave bone in his body. What Clives did have, however, was a beautiful, young – looking wife (37 years but could pass for 25) and an attractive, trim-bodied 18 year-old daughter, Vickie .. Milo had decided he wanted the two of them the first time he had visited the Clives’ home. Mrs. Clives had been made uncomfortable by the way he stared at her and by the very visible hard-on in his pants as he was already thinking about how he wanted to fuck her.
“Make a choice right now, Clives,” Milo had said while holding his pistol to Damon Clives’ head. “Either you phone your wife and daughter to get their asses over here pronto or else I am gonna put a bullet in your head. Make up any story you have to get them both to come over, but get them over here! If they’re not here within an hour, you’re dead and we’ll still grab them, fuck them and dispose of them when we’re done with them. If you get them here, you’re gonna walk your sorry ass out the door and you won’t say a word to anybody about this. If you do, you know what will happen to all of you, understand? Me and my buddy here are gonna enjoy fuckin’ your wife and little girl for a couple of weeks, then we’ll give them back to you….”
Clives gulped and made the call.
Mrs. Gwen Clives looked even better without clothes than with them on. And she was so spirited, too. Milo loved how she fought him when she realized what her weakling of a spouse had done to her and her beloved daughter. Only a series of hard slaps that rocked her face from side to side and the threat of seeing her daughter killed had subdued Mrs. Clives. Milo liked how humiliated Gwen was as she was forced to return his deep tongue kissing and when she had to open her legs wide as Milo fed his huge, thick cock into her tight pussy….
“Take my cock like you’re some whore, understand? Show your daughter over there how to fuck like the bitch you are.” He liked how she sobbed silently as he pounded her pussy and heard Milo’s partner having his fun fucking her daughter.
“Mom…! Oh, Mommy…!” Daughter Vickie’s voice was shrill as she was forced to give it up over there on the couch….
Milo held the captive wife’s ass steady as his cock slowly began to stretch her tiny pucker. She started to scream but muted when Milo growled, “Be quiet, bitch or I’ll go over there and slit your daughter’s throat.” He had already fucked Gwen a half-dozen times and had made her watch as he had also put the dick to her daughter. Now it was time use that nice bubble-butt ass of hers. So inviting as he had bent her over the back of the loveseat.
Gwen could only clench her teeth as Milo started fucking her asshole. She tried to tune out the sounds of Milo’s buddy teaching her daughter to the painful joys that came from paling her own asshole down on an eager cock.
It had been three weeks of captivity for Gwen Clives and her daughter. Three weeks of suffering from belt-whippings and all the fucking of their holes by the sex-mad Milo and a few other trusted thug friends who got share in the rape-fuckings of daughter Vickie. Milo didn’t share Gwen; Gwen was for himself and no others.
He had gotten birth-control pills for Gwen to take; the way he was fucking her over and over and the way he was always shooting big, thick cum-loads deep in her cunt, she was sure to get pregnant if not given the pills.
She was such a good fuck now, a great fuck. Now she was so obedient, knowing how to give it to Milo just like he wanted it. She knew how to raise and gyrate her butt to meet the brutal thrusts of his oversized cock up he ass. She knew how to eat his asshole while her daughter dutifully sucked his dick and she forced herself to over come the humiliation of being forced to kneel beside her daughter and share with her the thick cum that he jacked from his spasming cock. She began to wonder when he intended to let her and her daughter go as he had said he would….
“Please, Master, you promised that you would set me and my daughter free. Please tell me when you’re going to let us go,” Gwen asked pleadingly.
“Hmmm, your daughter just asked the same question last night. Did you forget that she turned 19 yesterday? 19 and such a good little whore, wrapping her legs around me when I emptied my nuts in that shallow pussy of hers. No more pills for her – or you. You’re both gonna give me a lot of babies….”
“No! Noooooo! You promised! You promised my husband…!”
Milo laughed, ” Ohhh, didn’t I tell you? Your husband’s dead.” He was real horny now. ” Now massage my dick with those soft hands of yours the way I like it and spread those legs. It’s time you start makin’ babies….”
It was confirmed now. Both Gwen Clives and her daughter Vickie Clives were now pregnant with Milo’s babies.
To celebrate, Milo invited his brother over for an “anal party”. Lots of cheap wine and lots of fucking the two kidnapped females in the ass.
Milo’s bother was so impressed at how well-trained Gwen and Vickie were. So good at following every order….
“I gotta tell ya, Milo. I’m impressed. Really, really impressed,” Milo’s brother said. “Never saw a guy fuck a gal in the ass and then pull it out and cum in her mouth like you just did. God, she almost managed to swallow it all, too!”
“I told ya she was a bitch who does what she’s told to do. She could have swallowed everything if her mouth was a little bigger.”
“Well, my cock’s not a monster like yours. Mind if I fuck her ass and then see if she can gulp down all of my cum?”
“Sure, after all you’re my only brother. Share and share alike…”
There are always debts to pay and many times it is left up to the innocent to repay them. That these innocent girls may have had nothing to do with running up those debts – or may not have even met the debtors is frequently besides the point.
That was the case of the 19 year-old college sophomore Janice. Janice had only met the guy named Preston once while attending an off-campus party. She had spent perhaps a total of 15 minutes in flirtatious conversation, felt a non-connection and moved on. But that was enough time for an onlooking contact for ‘Preston’s’ drug suppliers to form an erroneous conclusion. Reporting back to Preston’s inner-city debtors, Janice had been mistakenly described as Preston’s girlfriend.
Therefore when Preston barely managed to escape the drug debtors, it was only natural that they refocused their attention unto his supposed ‘girlfriend’.
When they kidnapped her, no one believed Janice’s terrified denials of any relationship with Preston or of any knowledge of his whereabouts. But no worry, the drug gang decided. Janice had a beautiful face and a very nice body. She would more than earn back their money by being put to work in one of their inner-city brothels.
The kidnapped Janice was disoriented and confused at the fate that had befallen her. A case of mistaken identity had resulted in her now being forced into prostitution in order to repay a drug debt. Her parents, friends and the authorities would never find her.
The tall dusky brothel madam Leticia would be in charge of breaking Janice down in order to make her a more compliant fuck for the establishment’s ghetto clientele. Leticia was an expert at preparing slavegirls and she was wasting no time getting the new white girl started out on the road to total readjustment. to her new life.
“C’mon, baby. Be still and take all this nice whippin’ that yo’ Aunt Leticia is layin’ on ya. Just hold on to Aunt Margie there. That’s the girl. Give into it, baby. Let yo’ Aunt Leticia teach you to take the pain…. then ya say thank you likin’ her mucky pussy and grubby craphole!”
As criminal families go, there were few that were so dedicated to doing pure evil than was the Marlew clan. With their extended family numbering in the hundreds, The Marlews not only engaged in crime as a way to make a living, they also engaged in crime simply because in their twisted ethic, it was an enjoyable experience. Along with robbery, murder and extortion, the Marlew family clan had developed a real appetite for kidnapping and enslavement – and not for money, but for the pure fun of it. Both the male and female members of this family had grown to enjoy indulging themselves in the terror, heartache and torture that they inflicted on the unfortunate young ladies who fell into their clutches.
The illicit activity of the Marlews was participated in by all of the adult age ranges of their family, from the young adults to the oldest members. It was not unusual, for instance to find Grandpa Charley and his wife Emmylou making the rounds; visiting to one of the many homes in which kidnapped slaves were routinely held and used. Charley and Emmylou liked to do some using of their own.
“Now this here’s a fine-lookin’ thing that you got here. Don’t you think so, too, Emmylou?”
“Yep. Real fine, I’d say. Nice lips on her. Do real nice ’round that there cock you got already hanging’ out yer pants. Do real good eatin’ my asshole, too, I think.”
But now thee was something special, a real coup for the Marlew family. Benny Marlew had befriended a waitress named Jenny after overhearing her talk excitedly one evening about the unexpected inheritance that was due her. A very distant uncle had died, leaving quite a sum in money and property to Jenny, who turned out to be the very last surviving member on the family.
Benny had been so handsome, so charming, so trustworthy. At least Jenny had thought so. But now Jenny was in shock. Drugged and then spirited away from her apartment by charming Benny. Waking up to find herself locked in a cramped, dank cell in some kind of basement, somewhere. And this dangerous-looking women smiling wickedly at her.
‘Well, lookee here! She done finally come to! You one big sleeper, girl!”
“Who are you? What am I doing here?!!!! What..”
” I’m Mabel – now shut up, bitch! You gonna find out soon! You gonna find out more than you ever wanted to know!”
But it was mostly a case of Mabel being the one who was doing most of the finding out. Mabel had so many questions concerning Jenny’s life, her upbringing, her friends, so many things…. And Jenny told her. At first Jenny wouldn’t answer Mabel’s questions, of course, but Mabel was so good with the cane and the belt. And then the electricity… After a while, Jenny was answering every question. Telling everything. And just when Jenny thought that she had told everything that there was to tell, Mabel came back again with the blindfold, with the electric attachments and plugs.
Mabel’s deep voice was so smooth and calm, as though in a conversation with a young student.
“Now I know that you think that you done told me all there is, but there’s always more things to tell. You might now think it, but you’d be damned surprised at what you can come up with if you try. Now I’m gonna throw the handle and keep it there for a while and let you and ol’ Mister Electricity have a real good joltin’ time together. And while you enjoyin’ your shock ‘n rock, you just maybe think of more things that you think that I might like to know when it’s over. Don’t worry too much about forgettin’ something – ’cause I’m a real patient woman and we’re all caught up on our electric bill here.”
Jenny would talk – scream – everything that night. Things that she thought that she had forgotten. And Mabel would listen……
Jenny had been so good, so cooperative. Mabel had finally summoned her cousin Shank, who was as crooked a lawyer as they came. Examining all the information that Mabel had taken down on notes during her interrogation of Jenny, Shank Marlew was very pleased. They would be able to easily take all of Jenny’s inheritance, every bit of it. But it would be better to keep Jenny alive in case of any unforeseen circumstances in which she might prove useful.
Shank made sure that Jenny would be useful right away. He had traveled a long way and he badly needed a good fuck to help him relax. Jenny would be very useful as he secured her into the right position to fully accept his oversized cock up her ass and began ramming her hard.
Shank drew up a legal document that came him and the Marlew family control over Jenny’s inherited assets. Her new “family” was very happy with her. Even the family matriarch, Grandma EllyMae herself, showed up at Shank’s office to witness the happy occasion as a crying and trembling Jenny was forced to sign away her new inheritance and sign away her freedom.
Jenny was taken away, crammed in the trunk of a car along with another girl and transported to somewhere in the deep rural outback. When they were finally pulled from the trunk, they both were immediately forced to thank their guard/escorts by giving them a blowjob and swallowing their loads.
Jenny realized right away that the reason that the Marlews had chosen this property was because it’s isolated location was perfect in light of the loud cries and screams that filled the air. This was one of the places that the Marlew clan brought their slaves in order to indulge in almost non-stop orgies of rape and torture. From almost every part of the property there emitted the most terrible sounds from the throats of various kidnapped females as they endured the many and varied cruelties inflicted on them by taunting and laughing Marlews.
And the Marlew men soon began to put Jenny through her paces and in her place as an often-used piece of fuckmeat. Although Jenny had been disgusted to have been forced to eat the pussies and assholes of Mabel and Grandma EllyMae, she now found wishing that she was back with them instead of here with all these rough, crude men. It had gotten worse since they had discovered Jenny’s oral talents. Now she found herself constantly being roughly mouth-fucked and forced to deep-throat their cocks as they spurted their semen, using Jenny’s now sore and raw throat as a cum-dump.
There was a telephone call to someone from Grandma EllyMae, that was all that Jenny was told. Whatever was said, Jenny found herself now transported to another Marlew property, this one as equally isolated and desolate as the first. But the climate here was much calmer in that no anguished screams were to be heard and fewer wild-eyed men running all over the place. Here it was quieter, but Jenny soon realized that there were many female slaves keep on the property and they were still being used constantly. Only now most of the Marlews here were older. Bound and secured to a wall-hook in the living room, she could only wait and watch.
One naked middle-aged woman walked up to Jenny and whispered, ” Hiya, darlin’. You must be that Jenny gal that my niece Mabel has been tellin’ everybody about. Her and EllyMae’s been talkin’ to Aunt Edna, who’s in charge around here. Told her to bring ya over here before all them boys at the other place done went and ruint ya. You is gonna like it here, if ya keep on being good. We keep our gals busy keepin’ us pleasured and all, but we treat all of ya a little better than the young fellas would. Like my brother Jerome over there – he may look all ol’ and fat, but he’s got one of the damnest huge cocks you’ll ever see. That’s Holly he’s got a hold of right now. We caught her a couple weeks ago and he’s been fuckin’ at least a half-dozen times a day! He’d be ridin’ her even more, but we all told him to take it easy and use some of the other gals so that he doesn’t wear her completely out.
The woman unhooked Jenny and wrapped big arm around her waist. ” I’m Patsy. You can call me Miss Patsy. Aunt Edna wants to take a look at ya. She’s out back right now inspectin’ another sweet bitch that was brought here yesterday.”
Patsy caressed Jenny’s buttocks as they walked together towards the rear of the house.
“As soon as Aunt Edna gets to sample what ya got to offer, then I wanna be next. Understand?”
“Yes, Miss Patsy.”
Aunt Edna was in the midst of an intimate training session with her girl when Miss Patsy brought Jenny to one of the slave sheds that were in the rear of the main house.
The old woman was squirming a bit as she sat on the face of the pretty slavegirl who doing her best at slurping at that huge old clit and wrinkled pussy.
“You want us to leave?” Miss Patsy asked the older woman.
“No need to go. This here young gal’s doin’ a right fair job an’ I should be cumming in a couple minutes or so. If that’s the bitch that EllyMae told me about, just take her and lock her in that next shed over there. I’ll be right with her when I finish with this one.”
Aunt Edna began to move her pussy and grind it hard against the mouth of the slave beneath her. ” That’s it, pretty. Just keep that tongue movin’ fast. Yes, gal….you gettin’ me close……..Harder! Faster!….Mmmmm…Uhhhhhhhh…..!”
It was an invigorated and refreshed Aunt Edna who came to look Jenny over in the shed.
“Hmmmm, you ain’t as beautiful as I thought you’d be by the way Mabel and EllyMae was goin’ on an’ on about ya. But I guess you pretty enough. Here gal, why don’t ya suck on this here finger. I had it jammed way up that other gal’s asshole, so you’ll probably get a good taste from it…..”
Edna liked how this girl obeyed without hesitation. Well, they all would have a lot of fun together before Ellymae and Mabel arrived and tried to hog up the show…… Jenny had suckled the shit – coated finger clean, just barely managing keep from gagging. Edna examined the finger with a smile.
“That wasn’t bad, not bad at all. But it wasn’t too much of a test. I gotta be sure that you’re worth havin’ around here instead of just sending you back to the boys at the other place.” With that, Edna reached behind under her dress and behind her and dug the finger deep in her own asshole. When she brought it back out and held it in front of Jenny’s face, the young woman gasped as she saw that it was now thickly coated with Edna’s shit.
“Prove to me that you really want to be here instead of back at the other place,” Edna cooed as she slowly touched her slime-covered finger to the shocked girl’s lips. “Prove it.”
Tears streamed down Jenny’s face as she parted her lips and let Edna push the foul appendage into her mouth.
Oh, god, what have I become, she thought.
Edna smile was triumphal as she felt Jenny’s mouth and tongue reluctantly begin to suck her finger clean.
“Jenny, sweet Jenny. You gonna do just fine around her. Now get that finger completely clean . Then kneel down and I’ll reward you by cleanin’ you mouth and throat with my piss…”
Jenny would always have plenty of company there at the farm. While some girls indeed were being taken from the farm and being relocated to other Marlew locations, other fresh captive talent was constantly being brought in to replace them. Aunt Edna was of the opinion that having new slavegirls available, particularly for her male relative’s benefit, served to keep the Marlew family in good spirits and free from boredom. From her past experience, Edna knew that certain male members of her clan had tended to get in big trouble when bored. Trouble attracted the law and the law was someone that the Marlews could not afford to snooping around their affairs.
But right now, keeping the Marlew men occupied would not be a problem; especially since just this morning, two more pretty slaves had arrived at the household. One of the Marlew women immediately went to observe and judge the latest catch.
“Hmmmmm, nice and tender. I see that you both been given some good disciplinin’ already. That’s good, it sure saves us some time. Now if you gals don’t want any more real hard whippin’ on yourselves, you’ll remember just how you’re expected to act and do. Understand me, cunts?”
But even though there were other slavegirls at the Marlew compound, Jenny was being kept pretty much isolated. After all, Jenny was a special case. A valuable asset. Kept down in the one of the cellar rooms, Jenny was able to see – for most of the time – only those who ventured daily down to sample the pleasures of her body. To keep her in a constant state of unease, Jenny was forced to spend hours and hours every day in painful and uncomfortable positions…
After a few weeks, the family had designed a new work program for Jenny. An additional chamber room, this one located even deeper than the existing cellar complex, was being built. Some of the Marlews had darker-than-usual tastes that they liked to indulge in. Tastes that called for a more secure and secretive environment; an environment that would block out the sounds of the loudest screams and shrieks of unimaginable pain and desperation; where the smell of torn flesh would be confined and where large amounts of blood could flow unnoticed….
Jenny would be put on a regimen of hard work, shoveling the mounds of evacuated soil and helping to haul away the heavy rocks in order to carve out the new underground chamber. It was hard work for Jenny, but the Marlews made sure that she had plenty of down-time, time in which she would be taken up to her cellar room and thoroughly fucked in her servile holes. Or sometimes she would be given the special thrill of being thrown down in the damp dirt of the chamber itself, and ridden hard by Marlew cocks.
“Do it quicker than that, bitch… I want to fuck you but not before you finish with this… yeah… I like fucking sore, sweated sluts… I’m really looking forward to it…”
Eventually the chamber was finished. It had been many months of hard work for Jenny, but at last it came the time to celebrate the chamber’s opening. And what could be more appropriate than for Jenny to have the honor of having her asshole opened up wider by a group of Marlew cocks to begin the celebration? As Jenny’s abused rectum was pumped full of cum by cock after cock, the other girls who had been brought down into the chamber to take part in the ceremonies awaited what they assumed would be their turn. But surprisingly, Jenny would be the only one who the Marlew men would be sweating over at this time…..
“Oh… look at this one… she’s so shy… c’mon, slut… look at this… you gonna suck it for me… and you’ll do it good and with a slut’s smile on your pretty face… understand?”
Jenny continued to service the Marlew men in every way during this chamber ceremony. After servicing their dicks and emptying their balls, she was put to work licking out their assholes with her wet, slavish tongue. Jenny was fast becoming just the kind of trained little bitch that the Marlews had decided that they wanted her to be…
“Ahhhh….Yeah…That’s so good,” grunted a Marlew as Jenny’s tongue worked his anus. Damn, the girl was beginning to get his cock hard again. But he knew that this was not a time to begin fucking Jenny again, as much as he wanted to – because Aunt Edna had already laid out her plan for what to do with Jenny next.
Aunt Edna had decreed that after she had done her sexual service, that Jenny was to be beaten. Beaten badly. And that’s just what they did….
“Ahhhh….Yeah…That’s so good… Stick it deeper, you bitch…
Yeah… you gonna spend quit a long time kneeling there… See those huge balls? Yeah… you gonna lick them all over… massaging that lovely prick of mine lovingly with your lithe hands…. yeah… this’ gonna be a long session, girl…
The Marlew boys were very experience at applying a beating. And they beat Jenny just as Aunt Edna had told them she wanted it done; severely enough to leave Jenny thoroughly in a hopeless daze, but not so much as to disable her or to make her unaware of what was to come next….
What came next would totally transform Jenny. It would take away any remaining trace of self-worth that she might have had. It would forever make her an accomplice to her enslavement.
Her mind still reeling from the painful beating that she had endured, Jenny was forced to take part in the taking of another slavegirl’s life as a couple of Marlew men guided her hand, helping her to slowly begin to slice the sharp knife into the body of a screaming slave named Monica. They would make Jenny go on to dismember the girl’s body and even drink some of the girl’s blood. After that, Jenny would be a servile, self-loathing and guilt-ridden piece of property, totally stripped of all hope….
GagFactor – 25
“He fucked her in the windpipe and that sucked because she needs that thing to breathe!” – Jim Powers
Starring: Jade Davin, Megan Reece, Cosette Angel, Crissy Moon, Jennifer Dark, Harley Valley, Jordin Skye, Lisa Marie, Kayla Synz, Veronica Stone, Misty Stone
August 25th, 2006
All characters are 18 years old or older
The Regime had eventually hunted down practically everyone on their ‘most-wanted’ list of political enemies and agitators, but they were smart enough to realize that there were many, many additional traitors and would-be traitors that they didn’t yet know about. Therefore, when they finally managed to first infiltrate and then round up the rather naive dozen or so members of the underground group of journalists and journalism students known as ‘ the Truth Brigade’, they wasted no time in employing some very brutal measures in order to obtain more information out of them concerning other possible sympathizers or supporters of the group or their aims. And since these so-called ‘Truth Brigadiers’ were merely regular citizens and not some hardened ideologues, it usually didn’t require more than a few hours of inflicting pain to convince them to talk.
Mr. Edwards was an exception. He was just a newspaper publisher, but he hadn’t talked or betrayed any of names of the circle of friends and supporters of his group. He was a man of principle and had held up strongly even under the numerous beatings and electro-tortures that the political police had subjected him to over the 18 hours that they had him in custody.
But his 19 year-old daughter Nancy was another matter. She was just as principled, but not nearly as strong. She had been quickly and thoroughly broken by the hours of whippings, beatings and rape. She had babbled out almost everything they wanted to know and more. But her tormentors weren’t done yet – they had one more bit of agony to inflict on Nancy and her father. ” We’re gonna re-unite you with your bastard of a father,” they told her as they led her into a large cell and attached her collar to the heavy chain that hung from the ceiling.
“Ya know, yer little girl here had been real helpful in tellin’ us all about how you and the other scumbags in yer group of traitors have been plttin’ and plannin’ against yer own government,” sneered Sgt. Paulson as he regarded Mr. Edwards sitting tied and gagged against the opposite wall. “Yessir, yer daughter’s gave you up and a lot of others. I tell ya, when she wasn’t suckin’ cock and eating cum, she was usin’ that mouth of hers tell us everything we wanted to hear. Like the location of that big printin’ machine and like where to find that disk with the names and addresses of all the other traitors you’ve been in contact with.”
Sgt. Paulson laughed as he observed Edwards’ distressed reaction. “Yeah, that really got ya, huh? Well, we’re gonna take ya out in the yard and shoot ya. We don’t believe in keeping old farts like you around. But yer daughter here is another matter. We’ve got all sorts of plans for her, you can be sure.”
With that said, the sergeant went over to Nancy, dropped his trousers and lifted her and pinned her against the stonewall. “Be still, bitch, so’s I can get my dick fitted all nice and snug in that sweet little pussy you got,” he grunted at her. “Ahhhhh, yeahhhh, that’s it. Feels good.”
Sgt Paulson looked back over his shoulder at Nancy’s father. ” You’re gonna watch me fuck yer whore daughter before you die, asshole. And you’re gonna also watch my buddy, Corporal Tiggs fuck her. And if we catch you not watchin’, we’re gonna cut her open and gut her while she’s still alive! So you just sit there and watch the show. Watch how well yer little gal takes a hard cock!”
Nancy was filled with self-loathing and shame. Her inability to withstand the harsh punishments and pain inflicted upon her during her interrogations had result in her betrayal of the other members of her opposition group and even her own father. And the prison guards had forced her father to look on as three of them took turns raping her in all her holes and as they emptied their loads of cum down her throat. She had heard the shots that killed her father; the sharp reports of the guards’ pistols mixed with the loud groan of the black guard named Tiggs as he shot another stream of his semen deep up Nancy’s raw ass. She no longer had a sense of hope or self-worth.
To the guards, Nancy almost mindless subservience served only to make her a more inviting target. They loved how she dully accepted a fat cock being rammed hard to the back of her throat, even to where the balls were slamming against her chin. How she obediently opened her throat and gulped down the numerous floods of jism that they jacked into her waiting mouth.
And when they turned her over, she knew what they wanted and lifted her captive ass, offering it, opening it to the guards’ demanding cock-thrusts. She moved her ass when ordered, moved it like the worthless, betraying whore that she had become.
All throughout the prison, during both day and night, the guards had free reign with their helpless female political prisoners. There was no need to worry about sexual excesses; these women were nothing but a bunch of ungrateful, misguided traitors who had plotted to cause trouble. They deserved no mercy or consideration for their feelings or discomforts. They deserved to be shown their proper place. They deserved to be shown that the Regime now owned their bodies; owned those tight pussies and assholes. The male members of the group were all dead and buried by now; they were of no value or interest to the government. But these prime-age adult females could still be used. With their bodies, they could still repay the Regime for all the trouble that they had caused. They had a choice, of course. A prisoner could refuse and accept a slow, agonizing and gruesome death or she could choose to spend the rest of her young years serving as an unpaid whore, the government reaping either the earnings that she brought in or being able to use her as a tool of pleasure for their various political loyalists. With this as the prison administration’s prevailing philosophy, it was only natural that it would be here that the prisoners got their initiation into the world of sexual slavery.
Sgt. Henry Bains came from a family of ardent supporters of the Regime, but he surely hadn’t taken this job as a prison guard for the pay. In fact, his pay rate was quite low in comparison to other jobs that he could have taken with the government. His brother, for instance, earned almost five times as much at his government job. The real reason that Henry took and stayed on this job was the other benefits, namely the female political prisoners who filled the special cellblocks designated for them. Captive pussy was so much better. He could do almost anything that he wanted, as much as he wanted.
Tonight Henry was getting ready to enjoy a long night of hard fucking with the blond named Carol. Only two days before, Carol had used her podium as a promising young twenty-three year-old associate professor to lecture against the evils of the Regime and it’s programs. Now she cowered against the wall as Sgt. Bains began removing his uniform, his cock steadily swelling in girth and length.
“You and me are gonna get to know each other tonight, girl. Yeah, really, really good. I ain’t no college man or anything like that, but I promise ya that I’m gonna teach ya a lot of things before the morning comes. And don’t you worry, you’ll get plenty of chances to show me how well you’re learning.”
Nancy’s rapid descent to the deepest depths of degradation and humiliation had been keenly noted by her observers; experts at judging when a prisoner had been completely broken and was ready for further shaping and transformation into the complete sexual slave that she is destined to be. The last two weeks of the most savage physical and sexual abuse, Nancy Edwards now longer had a will of her own. Instead, she was one who immediately followed even the most outrageous orders and demands made upon her. Her sore body now responded on it’s own to whatever cock that invaded it; moving, bucking and undulating in it’s dutiful giving of pleasure to whoever was using it. The men had been come back for more, eager to again mount and ride this petite and thoroughly subservient whore who gave them what they wanted.
Now she had been judged ready to be moulded further by the women, the Mistress Guards, who came for her. Knowledgeable, experienced women who were experts at taking broken lasses like Nancy deeper into the world of life-slavery. She had no defences now, no stubborn ego or moral barriers to overcome. Instead of the rough treatment that she had endured from the male guards, these strange new women explored her with their firm fingers and their calm, but authoritative voices. They did not scream at her to please them, they simply pressed down on her shoulders and she kneeled. They wordlessly grasped her hair with a stern hand and she leaned forward to lick their offered pussies and clits. They would turn and bend over and spread their buttocks and she would rim their assholes.
The other female prisoners would be removed from here and transported to the next stop in their journey into forced whoredom. Nancy Edwards would not be going with them. She had exhibited those rare qualities that these emissaries had been looking for; rare qualities that destined Nancy for service to a more select and discerning elite.
Nancy did not question – or even read – the special document that the visiting Mistress Guards put in front of her to sign. She knew that she was expected to sign it, so that was enough. But the Mistress named Vana, the one with the salty-tasting anus, told her anyway.
“This is your confession of guilt, my lovely. This is your admission and your acceptance of your unworthiness. It clearly states that you wish to commit your body and soul – your life, itself – to nothing else except the pleasure of the Holy Sisters and all those whom they would have you serve. In it, you denounce your former beliefs and your former friends and acknowledge that your government was appointed by God himself. And that you are grateful that it, along with the Holy Sisters, has been so forgiving of your past sins and given you the chance to redeem yourself through a life of subservience. Once inducted, thought, there will no tolerance for even the slightest hesitation or disobedience. The penalty is being put into a pit of dogs to be devoured alive, so beware.
“Sign it now, Nancy. Sign it and deliver yourself to us. The Holy Reverend Nun herself has arrived and awaits you. She is so anxious to give you the honour of eating her Holy cunt in celebration of your new life…”
After Nancy finished signing away her life, Mistress Vana’s thick, aggressive, wet tongue invaded Nancy’s mouth, thrashing deeply at the back of her throat. The Mistress groaned as Nancy’s kissed her back, entwining her own slavish tongue with the older woman’s. Mistress Vana’s strong fingers pinched and twisted the girl’s abused nipples as she said, “After you have spent your time with the Holy Reverend and pleasured her, me and the other ladies will visit you tonight so that we can take turns letting you swallow our piss to help you remember us……”
The Holy Reverend Nun might have appeared as somewhat intimidating with her stern face, large stature and low voice, but with Nancy, at least, she was rather pleasant and cheerful. Upon meeting Nancy, the Reverend Nun had simply smiled, pulled up her habit and leaned back in her big, ornate chair and said, ” Come here, my pretty one. I hear that you are one of the special girls whom we always treasure when we find them.” She spread her legs, revealing her naked black pussy. ” My cunt has been wetting itself while waiting for you to kneel down and service it….”
The Reverend Nun sighed at the first touch of the girl’s lips and tongue on her clit. “Now don’t you worry, dear. I don’t expect you to be experienced enough to be able to satisfy me on the first try, but I’m very understanding and patient. So just stay down there and keep doing the best you can. In the future, your training will enable you to eat the most difficult cunts and suck the most reluctant cocks to orgasm with a few minutes if you want to. But right now, your sincere efforts will be enough for me…”
But Nancy was a quick leaner; the Mistress Guards had taught her some of the basics. It was quite a surprise to the Reverend Nun when Nancy managed to bring her up, then over the edge of a very pleasurable orgasm after about twenty minutes of licking and sucking. The Reverend Nun puffed on a cigarette passed to her by one of her hovering subordinates and grinned down at the girl. “Hmmmmmmm….Well, now, they were right about you; you are a quick study, aren’t you? I’m going to love having you service me after you get your training. That was good, but as you can see by the way my pussy is twitching, I’m ready for a lot more of what you just gave me – so get back to work, darling, and see if you’re able to give me some bigger cummings over the next hour or so while I interview the bunch of godless bitches to see if all of them are fit to be assigned to our regular training center.”
The Reverend Nun, smoking steadily and her pussy steadily serviced as she conducted her interviews with the scores of frightened female prisoners, was beginning to tire and her darkening mood showed it. Only the frequent orgasms supplied by the girl between her legs kept her from erupting into one of her infamous fits of irrational temper. Luckily, there were only a few more prisoners to be questioned and judged. Unlucky for Janice, the last girl to be interviewed by the Reverend Nun.
“You are the last one – finally!” The Reverend Nun took one last deep puff on her cigarette. “You trouble-making bitches take far too much of my time. It’s a good thing for you that the Church and the Regime thinks that you’ll eventually be worth something – because if it was up to me……” She stopped herself abruptly, glaring at Janice. ” Put out your hand. Now!”
As Janice put out her hand, the Reverend Nun grabbed it, turned the palm up and used it to extinguish her cigarette.
“Aaaaaaa!” Janice’s cry of pain at least was able to being a slight smile to the corner of the Reverend Nun’s mouth.
“Now that makes me feel a little better,” the Nun muttered softly.
The next morning was busy with activity as truck after truck arrived at the loading docks located at the back of the prison. And the air vibrated with the mixture of shouted orders, the crack of whips and canes and the anguished cries of confused and frightened women. The weather was appropriately overcast, matching the gloomy and depressed mood of the female prisoners who lined up, naked and trembling, waiting for their orders to march single-file into the dingy grey cargo trucks with the words, ‘Institution for the Rehabilitation of Women’ crudely stencilled on the sides. There had been no explanation concerning this place or it’s purpose and that further contributed to the sense of hopelessness and panic that gripped the ranks of the prisoners.
But Nancy Edwards would not be accompanying her former friends and the others to whatever a place this “Institution” was. She was at the loading dock area, but away from the others and in the company of the Reverend Nun and another nun who had come to meet them.
C>The Reverend Nun introduced Nancy to the new visitor. Nancy had never before seen such a nun; the heavy tattoos, the piercings, the outlandishly-colored hair. The pale, whitish skin and those hard eyes.
“My girl, this is High Sister Adriana. Sister Adriana is one of the aides to the Holy Mother herself, so you should feel very honoured by her coming her personally to meet you. The Sister has been charged by the Holy Mother with overseeing all the training of special girls like yourself.”
” Yes, you should feel honoured that the Holy Mother has sent me to personally fetch you and deliver you to her. You know, we have been constantly informed about you, about every little thing that you have done. I agree with the others that you just might be the right kind of girl that we like – after a good deal of intense training, of course. Tell me, girl, have you ever eaten shit?”
In the aftermath of the nearly – apocalyptic nuclear war called WWIII, the States and it’s vast South American colonies was now being ruled by a completely un-democratic elite mostly composed of industrialists, bankers and the military. All facets of civilian life were strictly controlled and the vast majority of citizens toiled along at near poverty when the elite were able to enjoy lives of pleasurable excess.
Of course the elite looked unfavorably upon the slightest bit of dissention from amongst the ranks of the downtrodden or those ‘liberal’ rabble-rousers who mostly tended to be concentrated in the universities and the ‘underground’ media.
These people were quickly ferreted put and apprehended without too much trouble; the regime’s agents and collaborators were everywhere. It was the policy of those in power to make use of every possible resource and in that vein, the more attractive adult females were given the choice between suffering a torturous death (usually being burned alive or slowly garrotted) or being pressed into sexual servitude.
The Regime, always careful to utilize every ounce of it’s human resources, had created a far-flung system of government – owned brothels and ‘sex resorts’ – and it staffed them with those unfortunate female political prisoners who had fallen within it’s foul clutches.
Free-lance prostitutes and whores were a thing of the past; the Regime quickly and brutally disposed of any who would challenge their monopoly on the sex trade.
“These ungrateful renegade bitches have caused the State to expend its time and efforts to battle their treasonous behaviour,” went the Regime’s rationale. “It is only right that these females be used to repay the State for all the trouble that they have caused.”
The Institution for the Rehabilitation of Women was always receiving new female prisoners from all corners of the continent. Most were in the range of 18 to 25 years, but there were a few who were a bit older. The Institution, though, not only trained these former malcontents as sexual slaves, it also maintained it’s own system of whorehouses, sex clubs and large ‘sex resorts’. The money that the captive sexslaves brought into the coffers of the State was enormous, as it serviced the needs of the lowest common worker, the highest elite and the swarms of well-heeled foreign tourists who flocked to the States in order to indulge even in the most perverted ways – and do it legally.
The Institution preferred the prettiest prisoners available. Here, they would be broken, then retrained to serve the State in any manner that the State thought necessary. There would be no escape except by death and the discipline was strict and unforgiving. Over three thousand women were being interned and ‘re-educated’ here at any one time. Once deemed ready, three-quarters of them would be shipped out to serve in the government-run sexual centers located all across the continent and in its conquered South American territories. The other one-quarter would be retained here at the Institute’s vast property to ply their sexual servitude.
But before anything else, the Institute’s resident ‘Counselors’ had to inspect and interview each new prisoner and then designate her to the appropriate Section. The Counselors’ decision was based on the level of the prisoners’ physical attraction, their social/educational background, age and attitude. There were rarely any unattractive dissidents brought in; those had usually been quickly executed or forced into serving as fuck-pigs-in-residence at military barracks. But the Counselors were still very dedicated to their jobs. Of course there was the perk of being able to fuck any girl who he or she ‘interviewed’ in order to more accurately assess her potential. It was a tough and demanding job, but someone had to do it.
“Watch your step, child,” cooed Right Sister Harriet as she guided the tall brunette up the steps toward the waiting Counselor. “We don’t want you getting banged or bruised even before the Counselor’s had a chance to inspect that smooth skin of yours, eh? Now remember what we’ve told you; answer all questions truefully and obey all orders without question. Here, Counselor Bains, she’s all yours. Let me know when you’re finished interviewing this sweetie and we’ll send the new one in.”
“Thanks, Sister. This shouldn’t be taking long. I can already see that this one will be a good fit for the Senior Officers’ Hostel. They tend to like the taller ones with good tits on ’em. I’ll probably recommend that she be sent over to Section C for training; they’ll have her rounded up into good shape in no time. She’ll need to be especially fit to be able to take on those hard-to-please combat colonels and generals who take their leaves there.”
“C’mon up here, bitch and let me ask you a few questions and also take a close look at that pussy of yours to see if it’s tight enough for what I have in mind for you.”
Conselor Bains held his ‘interviews’ one right after the other – with only two pauses in between; first he just had to spend an half-hour letting a particular sweet-looking redhead prove her willingness to please by letting her give him a wet blowjob. The girl wasn’t experienced enough to be able to suck that monster cock of his to a quick cum. But that was okay; he understood that she needed more practice. So after he finally helped things along by jack off a thick wad in her mouth, he made a mental note to have her brought back for daily instructional sessions. The second time-out was taken in order to relieve a little built-up tension by using his oversized schlong to batter the tight cunt of that cute brunette with the ponytail. He loved how he had her crying for mercy under his brutal assault and how he was able to yank on that ponytail while pile-driving her aching vagina. But now it was back to the routine. At least until the journalist named Doreen Post’s turn to interview.
Doreen Post had been quite a celebrity in the news world; her hard-hitting expose-type television journalism had mad her famous and rich. Also a little stupid. She just had to stupid, Baines concluded, to think that she could continue to do feature reports that exposed the Regime’s deep-seeded corruption, human rights abuses and other less-than-positive doings by the government and the elite that ran it. Even though Post’s reports could only be broadcast in some overseas venues, it was only a matter of time before the Regime had stomached enough of her trouble making and came for her.
Baines was impressed; Doreen Post was 37 years old but looked like a young woman in her late 20s. And he could tell that it was all natural, no facelifts or silicon. And Bains was more impresses when Post immediately began beseeching him to please, please not separate her from her 18 year-old daughter who had also been arrested along with her.
“Eighteen years old, eh? Damn, bitch, you really were a whore early on,” Bains sneered at her. “Well, it’s your fuckin’ fault that she’s in here with ya. You should have thought about her before you started runnin’ off your big mouth. Now she’s gonna be an overused whore just like her mother’s gonna be. You know, they’re probably gonna send ya down to one of our whorehouses down in South America. They’re not as choosey about gals with a few miles on ’em like you. Your little girl will probably stay up here. But don’t worry, I promise I’ll make sure that she gets lots and lots of my personal attention before she gets sent out to work her ass. Or maybe one of our prostitutes will want to keep her as a wife. Get her all strung out on dope and keep her eatin’ prostitute asshole and getting her own holes used every night with those huge strapons that the workin’ girls like to use. Hah, hah!”
Bains enjoyed the stricken expression on Doreen’s face as he described what was probably in store for her and her daughter.
“…..Unless…” Conselor Bains let the word hang there, waited for Doreen to jump at the faint sliver of hope.
Doreen fell to her knees, her face pleading up at Bains. ” Oh, please! Please! Please don’t separate us! She’s all I have! It’s so unfair for her to suffer because of what I’ve done! I’ll do anything you ask! Anything!”
Bains chuckled, his mind already mulling over the different possibilities…. “I know you will. What’s your bitch daughter’s name?”
“Kerry. Her name’s Kerry! She’s outside with the others. Please!”
“Good.” Bains signaled over to Right Sister Elaine. “Sister, would you please fetch a Kerry Post from the prisoners outside and bring her in here?”
Miss Doreen Post’s first pleas concerning not being separated from her 18 year-old daughters were not quite good enough for Conselor Bains, so he made her beg again and again again. ” I want to hear you really beg me, you worthless piece of trash! You can do better than that! You better if you want to see your daughter again after today,” Baines had huffed. Yes, this was so much fun!
After a while, he was satisfied and relented – somewhat. He took off his trousers and pulled Doreen close against him. “Look at this super cock of mine,” Baines said to Doreen. “You ain’t never seen a cock like this before, have ya? Here, put your fingers around it and massage it and make it ready. I make every bitch scream and cry when I fuck ’em with it. You’re gonna be screamin’ and cryin’ too. And your lovely daughter’s gonna be screamin’ when I ride her, too. Now, we’re all gonna go downstairs to a little room where we all can spend some time without being disturbed. If both of you can please me like I want, maybe – just maybe – I’ll arrange for you two to stay together….”
Doreen and her daughter had endured the endless gang-rapes from the prison guards when they were first arrested, but none of those fuckings could compared to the ramming that both of them were taking from Conselor Baines. The Conselor had said he would make them cry and scream – and he was right. His megacock was more than a normal pussy and ass would take. He had fucked Doreen first and after finally pumping a big load deep in her protesting cunt, he had made daughter Kerry lick his balls then suck on that monster of a dick until it stiffened and swelled back up to size. Doreen felt so ashamed as she could only watch helplessly as her beloved daughter suffered from Bains’ prolonged attack on her painfully stretched butthole. Then it started all over again. Baines’ portly stature belied his almost superhuman virility. The man needed very little time between cummings to regain his impressive hardness and length and to be ready for yet another long, hard riding of one of them.
The Conselor had finished his latest screwing of Doreen’s daughter only a few minutes ago, flooding her captive cunt with yet another warm deposit of his sperm. Now he was back on top of Doreen and brusquely stuffing that giant sausage meat back into her tortured pussy.
“Thought you both would be able to please me real easy, didn’t ya? Heh, heh, they all think that at first. Then they all beg me for mercy. But you better not beg me to take it easy, if you know what’s good for ya. I want ya to beg me to hurt ya more with this here cock of mine!” He slapped her face hard. “Beg me, bitch! Tell me you want me to make you suffer! Tell me what a whore you are! Thank me for fuckin’ ya raw! Do it!”
And Doreen, knowing that she had no choice, said the things he demanded to hear. “Uhhhhhhh….!! Please hurt me, Sir. Make me suffer. Fuck me hard and make me suffer! I deserve it! I’m just a cheap whore. Fuck me hard…….!!”
“Yeah! Yeahhhhhh!” Her words drove him on to even a harder, deeper fuck-punishment of her cunt. “Buck those hips, whore! Push that pussy up to take everything I give ya! Yeahhhhhhhh…..Mmmmmm..!
The two Post women’s had spent three long and torturous hours being ravaged by Conselor Bain and his giant man-meat, the longest three hours of their lives so far. Their holes were all raw and sore and that indeed made the invasions of his cock torture to them. But to Doreen and Kerry, there was no other choice; it was either withstanding his horrific assaults on their bodies or the almost certainty of them being forever separated and no seeing each other ever again.
But both of them wondered how much more of Conselor Bains’ attention they could stand. The answer came as a shock….
Conselor Bains pulled his shit-flecked cock, still pulsing out another wad of semen, from Doreen’s suffering asshole and pulled Kerry’s head downward.
“You better not let a drop of this cum go to waste, whore,” he grunted at Kerry. “Be quick! Suck it clean, milk all the juice out of it! Uh-huh, that’s a good little bitch….Mmmmmmm. Like the taste of a cock that’s been up your mom’s ass? I bet you do, you nasty cunt. Ohhhhhhh…. such a good little mouth you got on ya….. And don’t you worry, you and your mom are gonna stay together. I’ve decided that I’m gonna keep ya both. Gonna make ya both my private pieces of pussy. I’m gonna be fuckin’ the both of you every night, just like I’ve been doin’! And my wife’s gonna love ya, too! She’s a fat, ugly old bitch but she sure likes puttin’ whores like you through their paces. Maybe we’ll take you to some parties and make ya do a mother-daughter act!”
Sometimes a Conselor’s decision on the best placement for a slave turns out to be just right. Conselor Jones had considered the background, temperament and looks of 20 year-old Prisoner Bernice and had concluded that she would be best suited to begin her service as personal ‘comfort whore’ in one of the Right Sister barracks. The Conselor had noted in Bernice’s dossier that she had spent her high school years at a convent school. How fitting that this prisoner would now have an opportunity to atone for her sins against the Church and State by dedicating herself to providing sexual and other personal services to overworked (and horny ) servants of God. A ‘Comfort Girl’ was always a useful addition to any Sister who didn’t wish to venture into the crowded Prisoner Dens to make a sometimes uninformed choice of female flesh or to cause the inevitable hard feelings that often resulted when a Sister used her higher position to pluck an appealing slave away from the clutches of her respective prostitute or guard overseer.
Bernice’s introduction to the Right Sisters at Barracks No. 3 was an immediate success and it was enough to bring tears to the Conselor’s eyes. Of course there were real tears in Bernice’s eyes at the moment – but that was easily understood. After all, Right Sister Ivanna was a rather intimidating woman to behold -especially when she was so up close and personal. At a towering 6 feet, three inches and with her heavy tattooing and piercings, some even called her frightening. Bernice was indeed frightened as Sister Ivanna and her trusty strapon were giving her a most enthusiastic welcome.
“Just relax, baby, and let your sweet Sister Ivanna teach you how she likes to fuck with her hard rubber cock,” moaned the tall Right Sister as she held a crying Bernice in place and the long artificial dick repeatedly plunged deep inside her with every forward thrust of the Sister’s lean but strong hips.
“All the other Sisters here are going to be loving you, loving you in so many ways – but I promise you that I’m going to love you more and love you harder…”
It was said that nothing ever happened at the Institution without the old woman known as the Reverend Mother Estelle being aware of it. And although very few people had ever personally seen the ultimate power of the Church known as the Holy Mother, it was well known that Reverend Mother Estelle was one of the Holy Mother’s first-cousins and a favorite, talking to her almost daily. In her heavily guarded upper suites that topped the Institute’s huge Central Administration building, the Reverend Mother’s daily routines were a mystery to all except the tight-knit and fiercely loyal inner circle of advisors and personal assistants. Of the Church’s four Reverend Mothers, Estelle was also the most feared, for it was said that only the Holy Mother herself was so ruthless and quick to anger if she was not pleased. It was also rumored that she kept a personal harem of at least a dozen of the more beautiful slavegirls especially culled for her from the many female political prisoners arrested by the Regime. The rumors were true.
The Reverend Mother was a woman with great responsibilities and as such, she needed the constant sootings that only the tongues and pussies of the eager-to-please slavegirls could provide. Her energy was more than that of a woman in her 20s and her body, though wrinkled at over 80 years old, glowed with health. The two or so orgasms that she experienced during her every waking hour served to keep her thoroughly robust and fit for her official tasks. Of course, all of this meant that her slaves worked hard at keeping her satisfied. Those who failed to give the Reverend Mother the cummings that she demanded soon were destined to end up as food for the large dogs that the Reverend Mother kept as pets down in the depths of the huge caverns that ran beneath the Central Administration building. The dogs were quite fat.
It was time for the Reverend Mother to examine and judge the latest addition to her harem. The new girl was a very attractive blonde named Fiona. The Reverend Mother needed to fill a vacancy in her harem, a vacancy that had just opened up within the past three hours.
“Your name is Fiona and you were the personal secretary to the recently-departed traitor, Senator Seinsworth, I am told. Is that true, girl? Answer me, there’s no need for you to be afraid.”
“Yes, Reverend Mother.”
“Well, girl, I am one who values personal attention, as you can see. You will be given the honor of helping to keep my clit erect and satisfied. And you will also be allowed to savor the varied tastes of my asshole. Now, I don’t expect you to be accomplished right away – after all, pleasuring one so esteemed as myself takes practice. But my patience is not open-ended, girl, so I advise you to devote your every thought as to how you might better your talents and serve me in the manner that I demand.
“Do not fail at your duties, as that little bitch behind me did. As you can see, I am not the type who is very forgiving. Now come here and take this girl’s place between my legs and show me what your lips and tongue can do. That way I can judge your shortcomings and decide what you need to improve on…”
For those prisoners designated to serve the Regime as ‘whoregirls’, the initial first step was being assigned to a Prostitutes’ Barrack in order to be more fully trained in the art of sexual service and servitude. Here, each new whoregirl was put under tutelage to her own Whore Mistress, who would teach her the proper attitude needed to survive in her new lifestyle.
The Whore Mistresses were all professionals; they were an important element in the Regime’s sex industry. Almost all were drug addicts and thus were never paid in actual monies for their service.
Instead they were supplied with a steady and reliable source of drugs supplied by the Regime; and in this, they were content with their lot and also thoroughly devoted to those who provided them with what they needed.
Given free lodgings in their barracks, these hardened and jaded hookers had a comparably stress-free and enjoyable existence. Furthermore, being given control over a whoregirl was another added benefit; not only for the pleasures that the slave was obligated to provide her, but also for the fact that a whoregirl could be destined to service the Whore Mistress’s customers in her place. In other words, each Mistress had the option to put a whoregirl to work in her place – with the Mistress getting full credit for the whoregirl’s chores as a fuckpig.
Each Whore Mistress, in essence, could be a ‘pimp’, with her assigned whoregirl doing the actual work. So it was not surprising that a incoming group of frightened and cowed whoregirls was a very popular occasion at a Prostitutes’ Barrack.
The new slaves were fought over, traded and bargained for by the Mistresses. Some individual Mistresses owned as many as a half-dozen or more whoregirls; other Mistresses sometimes for their own cartels and controlled whoregirl harems – consisting of fifty or more slaves who worked for them.
The main consideration was the amount of drug-credits each whoregirl could earn for her Mistress. The secondary factor was, of course, the sexual services that these whoregirls were obligated to provide to their Mistress or Mistresses; with the exception of food, lodgings and drugs, the only other consideration for the Whore Mistresses was sex. And here in these dank and crowed Prostitute Barracks, the air reeked of sex and was constantly filled with the sounds of throaty grunts of the Mistresses’ orgasms, the wet smackings of split-ladened kisses and the anguished groans of slaves as their pussies and anuses were stretched and pummeled by fists and forearms.
It was here in the Prostitutes’ Barracks that a new slavegirl learned her true place in life; it was here that she was truely taught the proper attitude needed so survive as a whoregirl for the Regime. While her body healed for the rigors of her initial pain sessions with the guards when first arrested and imprisioned, her mind and spirit was now being shaped here by her Whore Mistress. Here there was no priority other than keeping her Mistress happy and satisfied – given the level of jadedness of the experienced Mistresses, that was not always easy or pleasant. But there was no other choice outside the option of an tortured death, so there was no other choice than acceding to whatever demands made upon her by her Mistress.
Janice, a new whoregirl, had been assigned to Barracks No. 321. Whore Mistress 45897, young and somewhat lower-ranking in the Barrack’s hierarchy, had traded a full two drug-credits for ownership rights to Janice and was now guiding her new whoregirl through the ends and outs of showing the expected homage and respect demanded by a Whore Mistress.
“Wonderful. That’s the way, just concentrate of licking that shoe clean, every inch of it,” young Mistress 45897 instructed of Janice, keenly aware of the interested attention on the both of them by the older Mistresses. “Take your time, sweetie. I’m in no hurry. I want you to work your way all the way up to my cunt, but I want you to do it slowly and appreciate every inch of my feet and legs before I let you taste my wonderful pussy and ass, understand?”
The other Whore Mistresses nooded with approval as they watched No. 45897’s interaction with her new whoregirl. Yes, that was the way to do it. A whoregirl must learn that learn that being able to service a Prostitute’s cunt and asshole and to provide her with her deserved orgasms was a privilege that had to be earned; that to be allowed to give her Whore Mistress pleasure was an honor….
Of course, not all new slaves could be not expected to be as accomplished in the art of pleasuring their Whore Mistress in the efficient and timely manner that was sometimes demanded of them. Those whoregirls who were deemed as ‘deficient’ in this field were assigned to Pleasuring Classes in order to hone their skills. It was not that the Whore Mistresses were always in a hurry, but sometimes one needed her whoregirl to be able to quickly service her to an orgasm so that she could get on with an essential chore – like sleeping, eating or getting dressed. A Whore Mistress usually was addicted to her orgasms as much as her particular drugs. After all, outside of drugs, there was nothing else than sex.
A typical Prostitute, once she owned a whoregirl (or whoregirls), now only fucked a customer (male or female) if she wanted to, not if she had to. Therefore the immersion of a Prostitute into sex was almost total and the need for pleasure was strong and consuming. Some Whore Mistresses needed as many as three orgasms every waking hour to remain content; others, though only required cumming once every other hour – but those were usually the younger ones; the need increased with experience. As a result of this sexual addiction, outside of their sometimes heavy tattooings, most Prostitutes were also characterized by their perpetually and oversized clits.
Whore Mistress 76489’s swollen clit was now beginning it’s familar throbbing as she drew Janice’s face down towards it. No. 76489 had wangled and maneuvered for some time to get an Instructor’s position in one of the daily Pleasuring Classes. She enjoyed the wonderful sense of accomplishment that came from being able to teach new whoregirls the technical skills that they needed to satisfy their Mistresses. In her classes, she deftly instructed them in just how to get their Mistresses pussies to explore their juices within a few minutes. She also provided in-depth training in the art of the more involved and complete forms of sexual servicing of a Mistress’s holes when it was appropriate; there were times when Mistresses needed to be slowly serviced so as to experience one of those hip-arching, pussy-grinding, body-spasm orgasms that left them limp and trembling. Mistress 76489 had demonstrated that she possessed the relative patience and aptitude needed to be considered as one of the best Instructors at the Institute.
“Now pay close attention, bitches,” commanded Mistress 76489. “I want you to observe how my knob responds as my little student here follows my instructions. If she does it exactly like I tell her to, there is no reason why she won’t be able to bring me off within three to four minutes. I don’t expect her to get the hang of it the first couple of times – after all, using a tongue properly takes a few practices in order to get it right. But she’s gonna be able to give me a nice “O” in just a few tries. After you’ve seen her do it a few times, you’ll try it with the assistant who’s sitting behind you. She’ll help you to correct what you might be dong wrong and tell you if you’re doing it right. Now don’t hesitate to ask questions; you want to do well here, I’m sure you don’t want to a whip or paddle to punish you for being a bad student, do we? Remember, at the end of class each of you will have to take your turn eating me to a good cum before I mark you as having passed this class.”
In the three weeks that she had been assigned as a whoregirl, Janice – or ‘ whorejanice’ – had been traded between Whore Mistresses four times; a testament to her attractiveness looks and attitude. Now she was the property of Whore Mistress 65555, a mid-ranking Prostitute who was determined to make whore Janice a long-range development project; one who would whored with care and forethought and eventually traded up in return for three or four whoregirls.
There was already an undercurrent of interest in the girl that made her a valuable asset for any Mistress who owned her. Better to obtain rights to her now before she became that hot commodity that Mistress 65555 sensed that she was destined to be.
Already 65555 had been approached by one of the older, higher-echelon Prostitutes who had expressed an interest in the whoregirl for purposes of marriage. That in itself was testimony to whore Janice’s value; a Prostitute who wished to take a slavegirl as a wife was usually willing to depart with a generous dowry of drug-credits and whoregirls in exchange for a girl she wanted to serve her as a lifeslave.
Most of the ranking Prostitutes kept a couple of the most attractive and desirable whoregirls as slavewives; slaves who were generally taken away from regular duties in the various Sex Houses operated by the Regime and reserved for the exclusive of their particular Whore Mistress.
In a way, being a slavewife could be just as demanding as being whored in a Sex House; a ranking Prostitute Mistress was invariably jaded from her sexual profession, it was not always easy to satisfy her cravings.
The more experienced the Prostitute, the more perverted the forms of sex needed to keep her content and fulfilled. Most often this meant a good deal of the kind of sex rumored to be favored by the Holy Sisters; the kind that featured complete degradation and the more unimaginable perversions. But that was for the possible future; here in the present, Mistress 65555 was readying her whoregirl, whore janice, for her first bit of real customer service……
“Don’t you be afraid, honey.” Mistress 65555 was feeling so good; the girl’s tongue rimmed the inside of her asshole after having had licked and sucked her clitoris to the most wonderful orgasm. “Your first couple of days won’t have to be spent being fucked by dozens of cocks inside a Sex House. I’ve arranged for you to be a kind of ‘advertising gal’. You’re gonna be making the rounds, putting on displays outside the Houses so that it gets the customers’ attention and gets ’em excited and ready to spend their hard-earned credits on the pussy inside. There’s gonna be a good-lookin’ and very hung stud named Carlos partnered with you, so you and him will be puttin’ on a good fuck-show at each stop. Don’t you dare fail me girl, okay? Don’t make me look bad. Now I had to convince Maria here to let you take her girl’s place doing these exhibitions. Maria’s the House Matron and she’s been watchin’ you for a while and says always wanted the chance to see how you would take her strap-on up your ass if she had the chance to use it on you. So I want you to be real nice to Maria and thankful for the opportunity that she’s gonna give you today….”
“Si, I’m gonna love you real nice with my rubber cock, whore.” Maria’s fingers stroked the contours of the huge dildo attached to her strap-on. “Stay right where you are, my lovely piece of tail. Keep that position. It’s perfect for us.” She began to attach and fastened her trusty strap-on. This slave was so cute, Maria had wondered how the slave’s face would look as the huge artificial cock was slowly pressed into her asshole, the expressions on her face as the pain raced to her brain. She had to see it for herself.
“On second thought, let’s go into the other room. There’s a big mirror behind the couch and I want her looking into it while I’m fuckin’ her….”
After enduring the repeated anal assaults from Matron Maria’s giant strap-on, taking Carlos’ thick cock up her ass was not so much a torture for whore Janice. But it still hurt; Carlos was muscular and strong and he was determined to attract the crowds by showing them the kind of hard fucking he was capable of. The deep, brutal pounding of her rectum caused whore Janice to moan in distress and that lured more onlookers forward to watch the scene that was happening in front of the entrance to Sex House 127H; more potential customers who, after being excited by the fervid sex show put on by Carlos and whore Janice, would decide to step inside the House in relieve their frustrations.
Whore Kanice’s Mistress had outfitted her in appropriate ‘ fuck-slut ‘ attire in order that she would look the part, but it was clear by her chained collar and the way Carlos roughly slammed her holes and the way she obediently accepted and gyrated her hips against his thrusts that she was a slavewhore.
“Uh, uh, uh, uhhhhhhh….” Whorejanice couldn’t help but react vocally to Carlos’s continued punishment-fucking. Bent over and braced against the wall, she gasped as he pulled his dick from her ass and jammed it in her pussy and began pounding again.
“Oooooo….Uhhhhhh…Ahhhhhhiiieeee….” More jolting, deep ramming. Her cunt aching, sore….
From the near distance, the smirking, sneering comments and cheering on by the growing sidewalk crowd. Whore Janice’s shame was so complete….
“Mmmmm, you bitch….you no-good little bitch….,” Carlos grunted hoarsely as his thick piece of lard continued it’s hard probing of her sore bottom. Whore Janice couldn’t help but cry out in agony as she felt the man’s cock digging deep into her colon with maximum force. The pain in her asshole was excruciating and she wanted it to stop, but she knew Carlos would not stop until his lust was fully satisfied.
The on looking crowd was really into it now, cheering them on.
“Give it to her, man! Tear that ass up! Show the bitch who’s the boss!”
Finally, after over a half-hour of non-stop fucking of whore Janice’s obliging pussy and anus, a sweating Carlos could hold himself back no longer. “Aaarrrgggh…….” His hips slammed forward, his balls firmly against her buttocks as he emptied his warm load of semen up her asshole.
The crowd erupted with glee. Quite a few of them had open their pants and had been jacking off at the sight. “Damn, the buy sure knows how to fuck,” someone commented.
“Look at her, look at her face. She loved it! Yeah, she’s a real whore, alright.”
The day’s fifth and last stop on Carlos and whore Janice’s outside exhibition tour was at Sex House 1274B. By this time, the girl’s pussy and asshole were raw from all the hard fucking from her virile partner. But Carlos was ready for more of what his slave partner had to offer and once again, in front of another crowd of greedy-eyed spectators, he was jolting her body with his cruel assaults. Each Sex House had it’s own personality, so for this location, whore Janice was exhibited naked and natural. But the fucking was the same, and so were anguished moans that came from her.
“That’s fine, whore. That’s fine. Just keep bent over like this so you can take my dick deep every time.” Carlos, very aware of the pain that he was inflicting on the slave, was intent on putting just a bit of extra power behind each thrust. His own moans were moans of primitive pleasure and wanton arousal that grew ever louder as he plunged into her captive rectum again and again.
The whoreslave named Janice whimpered now with each slam of Carlos’ cock, but from her day’s experience with his fucking style, she could sense that he was getting close to the point where he could not resist from shooting his load. She tried her best, given the difficult bent-over position that he commanded her to maintain, to move more in rhythm with the cock thrusting into her from behind, hoping to spur him on to a quicker orgasm. She tried to relax her sphincter muscles, but nothing seemed to help relieve her of the pain being inflicted upon her raw-sore ass.
The crowd, mistaking whore Janice’s struggles and squirmings as acts of passion, roared with shouts of encouragements. “Oh yeahhhhh, baby! Move that ass! Show us how hot you are!”
One of the Sex House’s big female guards smiled as she observed the exhibition being put on by Carlos and the slavewhore. Yes, the crowd was excited and growing more and more restive watching the stud power-fucking the slave. And after the show was over, the House would get many of them coming inside…..
Given the nature of the Institution and it’s varied Sex Houses, it was not surprising that relationships amongst the myriads of restive and scheming Whore Mistresses created an atmosphere in which few things were stable or permanent regarding ownership of whoregirls. This was especially true for whore Janice. Just within a few days of her being traded for by Mistress 65555, she now found herself imprisoned and bound in a strange room in a part of the Institution in which she had never ventured before. And another strange, swarthy-complexed woman who had entered, undressed, and without a word, begun to lashing whore Janice with a short whiplet.
” Just be still and take it,” the strange woman said calmly as she continued to whip the girl. ” The sooner you are still and accept your punishment, the sooner I will stop hitting you.”
The slavegirl forced herself to be still and lay immobile, sobbing quietly as the visitor kept at her whipping, each blow becoming a bit harder than the last one. ” Yes darling, yes, yes…Keep still for your Mistress. Show her what a good little girl you can be….”
After another fifty or so hard strokes from her whip, the strange woman finally relented. ” There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? You don’t have to admit that you want more of it, but I know you really do – you just don’t realize it yet.” The woman waved off the comment that whore Janice was going to make; it was clear that whatever the slave had to say was of no consequence in the scheme of things.
” I was instructed to obtain you from the Prostitute who ‘owned’ you. I am Miss Sadon and I’ve come to take charge of you. It’s been decided that you have the qualities that my bosses are looking for – whatever that is….. In fact, now now that you’ve been put in the proper frame of mind, a couple of them are waiting outside – very impatiently, I’ll bet – to meet you. Now you just relax while I invite them in…”
Miss Sadon’s two bosses were the type who wasted little time in getting right down to the business at hand.
“This her? This the bitch they told us about?” The portly one asked the questions in a harsh hurried manner, much like the manner in which he was getting out of his trousers.
“Yeah, this is the one, Senor Martinez,” Miss Sadon answered, a wry smile as she watched him begin stroking his cock.
“Good. I see that you’ve already let her know how she’s expected to act. Good, good.” Mr. Martinez stepped in close and roughly flipped the girl’s legs and hips so that she was positioned on her side. “Now let’s have at that little asshole of yours, girl.” He brusquely begin forcing his dick up her anus, hurting her unnecessarily.
“Mmmmm, not bad. Ass is still tight.” Senor Martinez turned to the other man who was already massaging his own meat while he watched.
Senor Martinez began his own hard, rapid fucking of whorejanice’s tormented anus.
“You’re a lucky little puta ,” he said. ” We’re gonna make you a star. Our snuff films are popular all over. People just love watching sweet gringa blondes being ass-fucked by one of our giant-cocked studs before Miss Sadon here cut’s their throats…..”
In the new sex-based economy of the New Order, the role of the Sex Club was essential in that it served those who felt uncomfortable with the typical crude atmospheres that prevailed in the neighborhood Sex House establishments. The Sex Club was a bit more ‘sedate’ in its surroundings and the security for it’s clients. The level of credit/money might be a little steeper, but the advantages of a more attractive offering of slave-whores and of less crowded accommodations were often the major selling points. Also, the Sex Clubs were more diverse in that they were organized to appeal to different levels of class and specializations. Some Clubs catered to the working class, others were designated for the needs of the middle-class and others still more for the appetites of the upper class and elite customers.
There were Clubs strictly for lesbian sex; some for S&M. In the extreme, the Regime had also sanctioned the creation of a more deadly genre of Club entertainment referred to as ‘ Finality Clubs’; establishments that offered the opportunity to live out one’s fantasy of being able to actually not only enjoy the most extreme sex with the slave-whore of their choice – but also the thrill of taking her life afterwards. In spite of the fees charged, the Finality Clubs suffered no lack of customers; in fact, the main problem was keeping up with the demand for enough slave-whores to service the needs of the clients.
The Morass District Sex Club was always full. Located just adjacent to a major industrial working-class district, it operated 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The slaves sent there for service duties rarely lasted more than a few months before they were used up and then sent down to serve in the crass Sex Houses.
Former college students Regina and Susan were just into their first day of duty at the Morass Club – a place very different from the upper middle-class surroundings from which they came. Such big mouths they had when they were ranting and demonstrating against the government only a month or so ago. Now those big mouths were being put to good use. Susan’s mouth was stretching as much as it could as it struggled to fit around that wide cock that belonged to the steel worker who had saved up enough credits to afford the services of two whores at once.
“Uh-huh….. yeahhhhhh…. feels good, whore – but keep on working that mouth down and see just how much dick you can fit in it. Down worry ’bout throwin’ up – your pretty friend here will swallow your vomit for ya.”
The Morass Club’s ‘Orgy Room’ afforded a less crowded atmosphere than those offered in the Sex Houses. Limited to no more than a half-dozen couples at a time and overseen by a Matron, the room allowed more a chance for getting a more intimate fuck out of the slaves. A customer often would ask his captive partner her name and background before or during the enjoyment of her holes. After all, knowing that one was fucking a former student or secretary or businesswoman often made using an debasing her all the more enjoyable.
At the moment, Horance was cuddling up with a cute freckled-faced blond with large tits. Horance was in no hurry – he had two hours’ time reserved for the Room. The week had been hard; working the huge furnaces that helped produce the Regime’s badly needed industrial machinery served to leave a man exhausted at the end of the week. But not too exhausted to take advantage of the delights readily available at the Morass Club. And certainly not too exhausted to give this blond troublemaker the hard fucking that she deserved.
“What’s your name, bitch?” Horance grasped the sobbing slave tightly, feeling the nice contrast of her smooth, tender body rubbing against his rough, hairiness.
K – Katherine, sir. M-m-my name’s Katherine…”
“Why are you here, Katherine? What’d you do to get your pretty little ass sentenced to being a whore here? Tell me, birch and you better not lie…”
“I passed out pamphlets telling about how the leaders were not concerned with the needs of the people, sir……”
“Then you’re as stupid as you are guilty, ain’t ya? ” Horance’s cock was lengthening as it rubbed against Katherine’s thigh. He was almost ready now. ” Well, your ol’ Horance is gonna help ya atone for your sins…..now, a gal’s like you just gotta have a nice, tight little asshole. Why don’t we see how much of my dick I can ram in it the very first time, huh?”
Horance chuckled at the girl’s whimpering as he shoved his thick, wet tongue in her ear while beginning to shift her on the mattress. His shaft was already leaving a trail of pre-cum on her leg and back as he pressed her down.
“You gonna be a sweet piece of ass, Katherine. I can tell…..”
Viewed by status, the Garners District Sex Club was only a little above that of the Morass Sex Club. Its customers were mostly from the ranks of the administrative and office workers who toiled within the vast bureaucratic dens housed in the huge Administration Services office towers nearby. Whereas the Morass Club’s mostly catered to males, the Garners Club’s customers were almost evenly split between males and females.
It was no surprise that women were just as likely to patronize the club; after all, they needed to release their pent-up tensions as much as their male counterparts did. The drudge-work of overseeing the enormous amount of paperwork that helped keep the Regime’s government working and up to date was both hard and pressure-filled. Sometimes only the pleasures provided by a pretty and completely subservient slavewhore was enough to give an overworked civil servant the relief needed to endure yet another long week of relentless bosses and endless forms and mundane documentations demanded by distant, faceless superiors.
A paid session at Garners entitled a client to three hour’s access to whatever delectable pieces of slave pussy he or she wanted, assuming that slave was not being used by someone else at the moment.
This was enough time for a client to enjoy a more leisurely pace in extracting whatever pleasures he or she wish to experience; the thinking behind this being that being able to more completely savor what a slavebitch had to offer worked to keep a loyal employee much more happy and content than the brief, momentary and quick-fading glow brought on by a desperate spate of rutting sex caused by a looming time restraint.
This allowed a customer like Mr. Romer to casually take his time getting to know a captive slavewhore like Sophie. Mr. Romer might be only a nondescript sorter in the Administration Mailroom during his working hours, but here at Garners he could be sexually accommodated like royalty.
Sophie’s face and body was as exquisite as any magazine model and her hands were soft as she obediently stroked Mr. Romer’s rock-hard cock while nervously returning his spit-covered, deep-tongued kisses.
It was so hard for Sophie to keep from flinching as Mr.Romer’s insistent fingers began probing, then slowly working their way inside her pussy. She could her the muted giggles that came from a couple of Romer’s fellow office workers as they looked on this erotic scene.
“Looks like our boy Romer’s gonna be enjoying himself again,” observed the female worker. “I swear, the man must spend almost all his credits in this place.”
“How would you know?” retorted her male co-worker. “Unless you’ve been here just as much as he has.”
As in most things, the sexual and emotional tastes and demands of the male and female customers of the Garners Club tended to differ. And, also as with most astute businesses, the Club recognized those differences and incorporated it’s offerings so as to satisfy the cravings of each group.
The men, as usual, tended to have preferences that were quite simple and basic: tight and willing pussies and assholes to fuck and willing mouths to milk and swallow one’s frenzied sperm loads.
The women clients, on the other hand, often had needs that were more subtle – but at the same time, much more perverse and decadent in their nature. Nothing was more indicative of this than the Club’s rather unique Women’s’ Toilet arrangement.
The Women’s Toilet at the Garners Club was quite popular with the female patrons. And why not? It took a usually thankless and mindless chore like using the commode and transformed it into something that was a most enjoyable and unforgettable experience.
This was accomplished by the Club’s offering of the “Toilet Girls” – in essence, toilet slaves. These Toilet Girls had no other duty except providing their utterly servile mouths and throats for the reception and swallowing of the women customers’ esteemed piss and shit. Any reluctance or refusal on their part guaranteed a most horrible death tied and slowly burned at the stake or in one of the big ovens especially built for the task.
It made using the restroom an experience to be looked forward to, indeed.
This was Toilet Girl Marianne’s first night of service at the Club and it looked like Miss Colette was going to be her very first customer to service. Restroom Matron Estelle was in charge of matching the toilet slaves up with the different clients who lined up quite patiently to make use of an enjoyable restroom piss and shit session. There were two dozen slaves assigned to work the toilets and Matron Estelle made sure that everything went smoothly.
The Matron made the introductions. ” This is our new girl, Marianne. Marianne, you will have the honour of being Miss Colette’s toilet. Miss Colette is one of our best customers, so I expect you to do a great job at taking every brown and golden that she provides you, understand? Be a good toilet and make her happy, my dear – just like you’ve made me happy while training you.”
“C’mon, baby. That’s our commode right over there.” Miss Colette’s breathing was rapid as she wet the side of her toilet slave’s face with her wet tongue. She always looked forward to using the restroom at the Garners Club and her anticipation was heightened even further by being the first customer to deposit her shit and piss in the throat of this sobbing new slave. Miss Colette had had plenty to drink while having her cunt licked to orgasms by the three slavewhores who had serviced her so far this evening. And the big after-work meal that she had eaten was now ready to work it’s way out.
She would take her time and let her urine stream out slowly, enjoying to the sounds made by Marianne’s throat as she struggled to catch all the sharp-tasting yellow liquid spurted out by her superior.
After that, the sounds would be different; coarse, halting sounds of gagging and revulsion as the slave’s mouth and throat laboured to catch, chew and swallow the thick, putrid turds that Miss Colette would pulse out of her ass.
“Yeah, you’re gonna love it, girl. I know you’re gonna do a great job with that pretty mouth of yours. Such a pretty mouth. Just made for eating my shit. Now, after you’re in position, you make sure that you keep your lips tight against my snatch so you don’t spill any of my piss and then fit your mouth right against my asshole when I’m ready to shit, okay? That way, all you have to do is just work your throat and you’ll be able to swallow everything just by gulping. Then you’ll also be able to stick that tongue inside my ass and clean it so I won’t have to use up any of the Club’s toilet tissues.
“C’mon, be quick now – you don’t want to keep me waiting.”
In many ways, a slave’s service as a Toilet Girl was an excellent training regime in the ways absolute subservience. Frankly, there were very few other methods that were as effective as toilet service as a tool to assure the stripping away of almost every remaining vestige of foolish pride and self-esteem. The managers of the more extreme Sex Clubs and the producers of the government-sanctioned pornography industry were particularly fond of using ex-Toilet Girls for their operations; these slaves’ background of total humiliation served to make them perfect for those popular sex shows and videos in which they would humbled and degraded in the utmost ways. And since the concept of having ‘house slaves’ was fast becoming fashionable, many potential owners had begun to look upon a slave’s duty as a Toilet Girl as a valuable indicator of the kind of servile mentality that made a slavegirl ready for service in the home.
One such case was that of 21 year-old Michele.
Michele’s former background as a courier for the anti-Regime underground had initially marked her as someone who to be looked at as a risk when being considered for duties for anything else except as a fuck-whore in one of the lower-class Sex Houses or, worse yet, as a candidate for shipping down to finish her life being used by the crude miners and laborers in one of the many South American colonies.
Michele had been spared being dispatched to such an unpleasant fate only because of her unusually petite, girlish looks and that appealing, tight body that was accented by the most appealing perky and upturned breasts. Michele had been manhandled and rape-fucked by the biggest and roughest cocks around, but nothing seemed to completely rob her of her spirit. But it took only a week of toilet duty in the Garners Club Women’s’ Restroom to begin to strip away the last vestiges of Michele’s sense of self-worth.
The special depravity of hour upon hour spent gulping superior women’s’ piss and foul excrement had gradually left her without any pride, only a vacant and utterly hopeless acceptance of her inferior place in life. Her despair had been noticed; already a discreet inquiry had been tendered to her overseers and quiet talks had been held concerning possible compensation. After all, the wife of a ranking Regime senator was someone who warranted attention when she indicated an interest in something, anything. Like having a cutie like Michele as her own private household toilet….
Michele had no idea that this would be her last day of toilet service at the Club, that she would be taken at the end of her shift and transported away to start her new life as the personal Toilet Girl of the demanding wife of a powerful Regime politician. Right now, she could only tend to her duties, her particular duty at the moment being the using of her obedient tongue to lick and suck a Superior Woman’s asshole clean. Another slave had done the actual piss swallowing and dung-eating and it was Michele’s turn to function as the Superior’s human toilet paper.
“Ummmmm….Oh, yes…,” the Superior groaned. ” Such a nice, warm tongue you have…..Uhhhhhhh. Don’t stop, sweetie. I know I must be clean by now – but why don’t you slip that tongue back up my ass just to make me feel good, mmmm? I’ll see if I can work some more turd down so you can suck it out. Ohhhhhhh…..so good…….so fuckin’ good! Here’s some more shit for you, I think….yeah, I can feel it moving now……..Uhhhhhhhh……can you taste it, sweetie? Uhhhhhhhhh…..”
The rates charged at the Medows Sex Club were higher, but then it was an establishment that tended to attract it’s membership mostly from the ranks of the Regime’s police and other enforcement agencies. Medows membership also was predominately male, although there was a mild sprinkling of females – mostly wives and girlfriends – who attended the goings-on there. There had been some whispers, some vague reports of extreme sadism and other, more lethal forms of entertainment being practiced upon unfortunate slavewhores at Medows, but those rumors had been largely unconfirmed and denounced as dastardly attempts at defiling the fine reputation of the Club’s management. “We’re in the business of providing a safe and comfortable environment for those numerous antisocial females to have the opportunity to repay society for the time and expense of their incarceration and rehabilitation,” said the press release put out by the Club Office. “Any reports of harmful activities being practiced upon our prisoners are nothing but vile slanders being spread by unlawful elements who resent the all the peaceful progress that our wonderful government has brought the people.”
Of course, none of the clientele seemed to be bothered by dark rumors concerning any unhealthy behaviour at the Medows. As far as they were concerned, the only thing of note at the Medows Sex Club was sex – and the almost weekly additions of new slavewhores to provide it.
Wednesday afternoons were the usual time that new sex-prisoners were delivered to the Medows Club. Mr. Reagan, the club operations manager, made sure to be there in order to inspect the incoming cargo of fresh fuck-meat and make sure that they were all of quality and up to the standards that the Medows prided itself on. Reagan preferred to put the new pussy out for customer use on Friday evenings, so the two preceding days could be fully utilized by he and his loyal staff in the most intimate inspection and judgement of the incoming talent. Slavewhore No. 12 was one new talent who would surely pass muster in terms of physical attractiveness. But there were other considerations, of course….
“Well, Yolanda certainly seems to approve of No. 12,” observed Mr. Reagan, talking to one of his more experienced Club Matrons. “What do you think, Ms. Wilson?”
“Oh, Yolanda just has a weakness for tight, young pussies, Mr. Reagan. The girl looks good – but I think that I’ll need a few hours with her in order to give you a more accurate opinion…..”
Slavewhore Bernice definitely showed promise while being inspected and assessed by Arturo, the Club’s janitor. Arturo might be the man who cleaned and scrubbed, but at Medows, all staff was considered part of the family – and Arturo’s opinion would be considered just as much as any of the higher-placed staff members. As it was, Arturo had definitely been right when he deduced that Bernice’s long, trim body would naturally be limber and flexible. Acting on his honed instincts, he had taken Bernice down to the small alcove that had the special wall strappings especially placed for the activity that he had in mind. Bernice, as expected, had groaned with distress as Arturo fastened her protesting body in the rather contorted position that the strappings demanded. She started to emit a different kind of distressed groan as Arturo, kind and thoughtful man that he was, slowly began to push that fat dick of his into her very exposed cunt…
“Ohhhhh….Uhhhhhh….” Bernice’s moan was anguished. Her pussy was so totally exposed and vulnerable in that contorted position that she was fastened in – and Arturo’s fat cockhead was slamming against so many tender walls….hurting…..shocking….. Her back and legs muscles also spasmed in pain….
” Si, puta, si…..such a shallow little pussy you have! I’m gonna keep you just like this so you get every inch of me while I give it to you hard, eh?”
But Arturo wasn’t as cruel a man as one would think. An hour and a half of hard-fucking Bernice in that contorted position was quite enough; after all, he had emptied his gonads at least a half dozen times while enjoying digging his raging cock in the very deepest recesses of the girl’s pussy and ass. He was patient and did not complain when Bernice collapsed to the floor when he released her from her wall shackles – in fact, being the considerate person that he was, he merely climbed on top of her, spread her legs and fucked her again. Arturo included his opinion to Mr. Reagan, the Club manager, that slavewhore Bernice passed the test as far as he was concerned; that she would definitely give the Medows’ customers what they wanted.
“Hmmmmm,” replied Mr. Reagan, when informed of how the slave had endured her time shackled in the uncomfortable position against the wall. ” Do you think that she could function as well if she was given a bit more pain? You know, the kind that some of our more discreet customers like to inflict on special occasions?”
” Well, sir, she did buck her hips just like I wanted her to when I fucked her on the floor afterwards…”
” That sounds promising, Arturo. Tell you what. Why don’t you keep her for the rest of the night down in the far basement and see how she holds up under some of your more ‘forceful’ attentions? Always good to know if we have a natural painslut on our hands….”
Bernice’s body shuddered and winched under Arturo’s hard use of the small leather whiplet. Her pitiful cries and pleadings did nothing to make him relent. But she needn’t worry – before very long, the insistent urgings of Arturo’s cock would become too much and he would be forced take a brief respite in which the pain from his whip would be replaced by the pain inflicted by the cock.
The Medows treasured the patronage of it’s clientele; especially those esteemed members of law enforcement whose tireless and dedicated efforts kept the government and it’s supporters safe from all those misguided and unrealistic souls who meant harm. There was nothing more that the Club’s management liked better that hosting one of the many private receptions given to celebrate a recent promotion or the capture of a particularly important fugitive.
Sergeant Janson’s promotion had just been announced two days before and now he and the other members of the Central City Anti-Subversive Activities Squad were in the midst of a fairly raucous party that would last into the early hours of the morning. The Club supplied the booze and the slavewhores; the policemen had only to bring the money and their cocks. And being men who often were forced to use harsh and brutal methods to acquire the information that led them to the political fugitives that they sought, it was only natural that their sexual ways might often tend to be brutish. Sergeant Janson’s black cock looked particularly brutal to slavewhore Marlene as he walked her towards the small room containing the bed on which he would be fucking her throughout most of the night; as brutal as the way he had already used his belt on her just an half hour or so earlier. “We gonna have a lot of fun together tonight, bitch… I promise you won’t forget it for the rest of your fucking life!”
At the Medows Club, ‘customer convenience’ was a concept that taken very seriously. In the course of attending an orgy or perhaps just spending time with the slavewhore of one’s choice, sometimes the call of nature came quickly; sometimes too quickly for a man to manage to make it to one the the toilets in time. This was not an uncommon problem at the Medows Club, especially given that the preponderance of it’s customers tended to consume a larger portion of alcoholic drinks than at most other clubs. As with any society, those involved in law enforcement here often drank as hard as they played. No one begrudged them this; the importance of their service to the Regime was very much appreciated and any way to relieve their stress was well understood and supported.
Mr. Reagan, the Club Manager of Operations, had arranged to place one slavewhore in each of the larger rooms which accommodated a group of people. This particular slavewhore was not placed there for reason of provided sex. Instead, this slave was designated as a “Piss Whore”; put there specifically for the convenience of customers who didn’t have the time or the inclination to race to one of the toilets to urinate. The Piss Whores were easy to spot, given their trademark ring gags and their being tightly bound and chained to a wall.
Sergeant Janson was having too good a time to be forced to put on his pants just in order to walk down to the restroom located at the end of the long hall. He had just finishing ass-fucking his third bitch of the night and he was ready for more. Looking around the room and seeing captive Piss Whore Felica sitting chained by the door certainly solved his dilemma.
“Better keep that pretty head still, bitch,” the Sergeant ordered. ” Remember that you gotta lick up any of my piss that gets on the floor…”
Mr. Reagan was a man who actually lived for his work. While other staff members left for their homes at the end of their shifts, he could usually be found somewhere on the Club grounds attending to this problem or overseeing some improvement to that operation. Although he had been offered the opportunity to be promoted to one of the highly coveted regional or even national-level management positions on several occasions, he was very content to remain here at the Medows Club. Some speculated that Reagan might have some sickly or particularly need some relative in the area and that might be why he preferred to stay in the area. Others hinted that it might be a case of a lack of self confidence . But they were all wrong. Reagan preferred to stay here at the Meadows Sex Club because of the almost absolute freedom it afforded him in the indulgence of one of his more ‘unusual’ personal interests. Indeed, having some of the Regime’s better cops and enforcers as frequent customers – very satisfied customers; Mr Reagan saw to that – had resulted in a certain level of protection.
In his off-hours, Mr. Reagan liked to hear the desperate pleas and then the desperate cries of slaves as they suffered and died. Though the diligent and creative efforts of his longtime lover, the chief auditor of the Bureau of Prisons, the raven – haired Miss Marlen, there had been certain slavegirls delivered to Mr. Reagan at the Club. Slaves whose names somehow had curiously been dropped from the prisoner rolls or had been listed as being shipped down to the South American colonies ( where most slaves simply disappeared).
Miss Marlen seemed to be a frequent guest of Mr. Reagan at the Meadows Club, mostly staying there with him through the weekends. Most observers noted that they made quite a handsome pair, while others also noted that they seemed to share the same interests and have a lot in common. And they were right, even more that they could have known: Miss Marlen certainly liked the same things as her boyfriend.
Miss Marlen leaned close and whispered to Mr. Reagan. ” Which one do you want to do first? This cute blond who’s working on that cock of yours? That black-haired one over there? Which?”
” I thought it’d be nice to watch you have your fun this time, sweets,” Reagan whispered back. “Why don’t you kill all of them while I watch? I’d really enjoy seeing them scream and beg you while you make them watch you kill one after the other…”
“Mmmmm. Oh, yes. I’d like that very much. Is that butcher knife still in your desk over there?”
” Yes, but let’s wait until this pretty bitch is done sucking me off before you start. Hate to have my dick bitten off…. Heh, heh..”
It was the policy of the Regime to be merciful – at least somewhat merciful – when it came to dealing with the more attractive female political prisoners. Therefore all those condemned ladies who qualified were given the chance to go before an Interviewer to plead her case as to why she should be spared the normal method of execution, of being slowly burned alive. It was not a case of a condemned girl avoiding being executed; it was only a matter of how she would eventually die. Needless to say, most of the prisoners wanted to avoid the hellish end of being roasted. Almost anything would be better. There, in one of the small, dank Interview rooms at the Institution, these girls pleaded to be given the chance to show their sincere appreciation to their captors; to be given the chance to somehow earn whatever mercy that might be bestowed upon them. The Interviewers were always a high-placed female official of the Regime (after all, it was the policy that only females could dispatch another females) and these women Superiors demanded to be convinced of a prisoner’s worthiness for mercy and just how that prisoner would demonstrate her thankfulness for that mercy.
Condemned prisoner Miranda wanted to demonstrate her complete remorsefulness for her past antisocial activities and her worthiness of being spared being burned alive. Her earnestness and sincerity had touched the heart of Miss Renderman, the State’s Interviewer in this case.
“So, child, you do acknowledge that your Superiors have been right all along and that the things that you did and said against them were crimes that deserved your penalty of death?” Miss Renderman needed to be sure of this girl’s repentance.
“Yes, Miss Renderman, I acknowledge all that and beg for the opportunity to show how sorry I am and for the chance to repay all of you for any mercy that I might receive.”
Miss Renderman shifted in her chair to lean back and pull up her skirt. She was wearing no panties, of course.
“Then you must be very anxious to demonstrate how much you want to get down on your knees and lick my wet pussy. To show what a good girl you will be for the remaining days of your pitiful life…?”
“Yes, Miss Renderman, I do. I want so much to show you…”.
Once a condemned prisoner had shown herself to be contrite for her past wrongs against the Regime, she was labeled a ‘Repentant’ and her remaining time on earth would be spent at providing her body to be used for pleasure by her Superiors in any way they deemed necessary. A Repentant’s services was highly sought after by the Regime’s female members; the thought of having one’s every sexual demand fulfilled by a prisoner marked for death could be highly intoxicating. A Repentant was considered to be the ultimate sex slave; to be satisfied by a Repentant was also a matter of taking a part of her life force. The Repentant would never know when or how her death would come – or if her abilities at satisfying every sexual whim of her Superior ladies would serve to prolong her life.
But there was usually one constant: The first stop for a new-declared Repentant would be with Right Sister Coleen in that large basement room downstairs at the Institution. It was practically a tradition now that Sister Coleen would start the new Repentant’s final life journey with her allotted three hours of the Sister’s experienced whip. Then, with her body aching and covered with welts, the Repentant would kneel to service Sister Coleen’s sweating pussy and asshole with her repentant tongue. Then there would be the servicing of all those Superior women who had been invited to witness and participate in starting her out in her Final Duties.
Repentant Miranda’s time had lasted over four months, quite a long time for a Repentant to stay alive. Whether this was a matter of her earnestness and abilities at giving the most intense and reliable satisfaction to the many Superiors’ demanding pussies would never be know. After all, part of the allure of the Repentant program was it’s randomness and unpredictability; of the prisoner not knowing when the end would come. Usually a Superior was granted the pleasure of dispatching a Repentant as a reward for merit or some extraordinary service. Such an honor was not one to be wasted in some mundane violent act; instead the dispatching of a Repentant called for it to be done in a memorable, ironic fashion – something that others would remember fondly and talk about.
Miranda had started to think that perhaps she might be able to live indefinitely. Her willingness to do everything asked of her and her demonstrated abilities at giving some many, many orgasms to all those who used her had given her hope that perhaps, just perhaps her fate be moderated somehow. This glimmer of hope on her part had been noticed and that been what Right Sister Vivian had been waiting for.
The Repentant prisoner Miranda’s last day was spent with Right Sister Vivian and her two close friends, Sharonda and Sylvia. Miranda’s last moments had been spent licking the big black Sharonda cunt to one hell of a quivering orgasm and then Sharonda had pulled the girl’s mouth tight against that pulsing, dark pussy and said,
“Here, baby, you done such a good job that you done made your ol’ Sharonda have to pee! Fit that pretty mouth around my cunt so you can swallow every bit of it as I let it out, okay? Ahhhhhh…. Here it comes…. Keep gulpin’, girl…..That’s the way…. So good, baby….So good…!!”
As Miranda opened her throat to accept all of black Sharonda’s gushing piss, she was unaware of Right Sister Vivian’s silent approach behind her, the big killing knife in her hand.. Sharonda saw what was about to happen and could barely contain her delight; Sylvia realized it too. The end would come so suddenly. With her throat still holding vestiges of black piss in it, it would be abruptly exposed as the Sister grabbed and jerked back her hair. And as the big knife’s cold steel sliced deep into her throat, one of last things that Miranda would remember would be the strange guttural sound made by Sister Vivian. The sound of the Sister experiencing an intense, ongoing orgasm…..
At one time, Dorthy Simmons had a lot to offer society; a talent for writing, a quick, strong mind and equally strong convictions. Unfortunately for Dorthy, the new society in which the Regime ruled supreme wasn’t one which valued any openly-expressed strong convictions or opinions that ran counter to it’s own. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before the authorities came for her. Now Dorthy Simmons, condemned for her refusal to accept the new order and her rather naive public efforts to undermine it, could only cater to the opinions of others. Others such as Right Sister Olivia and her prostitute wife, Evette, two Superiors who would be in judgment of Repentant Dorthy’s willingness and ability to please…..
“Mmmmm.. that’s a very nice tongue you have there, my little repentant girl. Nicely shaped; not too wide and with a fine taper to it. Very good for slathering a clit or fitting inside an anus. Yes, dear you show a lot of promise. What do you think of our little Repentant Dorthy here, Evette? Think that she prove that she’s worthy of our time?”
Evette examined the prisoner up and down. ” Well, the body’s alright, I guess. And I’ve had prettier gals do me real good back at the barracks when I was there – but her face’s okay, I guess. She looks like a real proud sort of bitch to me, the kind who used to look down on me…”
” Now, now, Evette! Don’t be so judgmental! Give the girl a chance! I’m sure she’s going to do everything she can to show you that you’re wrong about her, won’t you dear?”
“My friend is so skeptical of whether you deserve mercy or not, sweet girl,” said Sister Oliva as she continued to examine Dorthy’s promising tongue. “But I’m sure that you’re going to convince her as well as I, that you are the most delectable little pussy-eater. Why don’t you get to your knees now so you can start giving my clit the attention it deserves, huh? Now don’t make me regret my faith in you, sweetheart. I’d hate to have them come to take you to the ovens to roast you like some piece of beef, wouldn’t you? Then after you please me, I’ll let you please my wife Evette here. She’s harder to satisfy than I am, so it’ll be fun to watch you work at it….”
As one of the Regime’s veteran state-sponsored prostitutes, Evette was a woman who had practically seen and done it all. And as such, Evette was not an easy woman to please. Her pussy and asshole had been serviced by the tongues of a thousand women, both free and captive. Her toes had been sucked wetly, her eager nipples thrilled and her shit swallowed by the mouths of countless girls who had begged for the chance. So just how was this new Repentant named Dorthy supposed to be able to pleasure those very experienced, jaded openings and erotic locations of Evette’s body? It was not a case of Evette being non-feeling and difficult; it merely was a case of her being a very hard woman to please. Sister Olivia could do it, of course, and do it quite easily – but the Sister was one whose sexual experiences had equipped her with a knowledge of women’s bodies and how to make them scream in ecstasy and leave trembling lumps of exhausted flesh. But the Sister was the wonderful exception. This young Repentant was not.
Maybe it was plain jealousy that made Evette shift and fidget with frustration and impatience as she watched her esteemed wife put Repentant Dorthy through her paces. Perhaps it was resentment at how this pretty young captive was able to follow Sister Olivia’s most perverse instructions. Was that why she looked away when the Sister shook with her third orgasm while squatting heavily on Dorthy’s face, her head thrown back as she let out a deep, throaty moan of the most intense animalistic pleasure? Was it how the Sister remained seated with her full weight on the girl’s face, smiling, her eyes almost closed as she gently gyrated her hips over Dorthy’s mouth as Dorthy produced muted, wet, smacking sounds as she slurped the Sister’s still-flowing vaginal juices? Whatever the reason, when it was her turn with the girl, Evette’s inclinations were not some much towards getting pleasure as much as it was to inflict the most intense humiliation.
Evette was curt and abrasive with the slave when it was her turn with her. She sapped Dorthy’s face hard, knocking her back to the floor. “You little worthless bitch, I didn’t give you permission to stand up, did I? Keep your ass down there – that’s where you’ll be spending a lot of your time!” As the frazzled Dorthy complied with her harsh order, Evette positioned herself over her.
” You think you’re something, don’t you, bitch? Don’t bother to lie, I can spot it a mile away. The Sister might think you’re special, but I’m going to show you just how low a piece of garbage you really are! Open that mouth, cunt! Open it wide! The first thing I’m gonna do is piss and you better not miss a drop of it! You understand me? Yeahhhhhh, bitch here it comes….. You like my piss, don’t ya? Yeah, all the low-class whores like you like to drink my pee……… Uhhhhhh… Keep drinkin’, bitch. You know, I’m gonna make it a point to find you every day and piss down your lovely throat.
“But I’m getting ahead of myself, ain’t I? ‘Cause soon as I get through peeing, I’m gonna put those filthy lips of yours right up against my asshole and I’m gonna wank myself off while empty my turds into your mouth. And don’t worry if you can’t eat my shit as fast as I let it out – you’ll be allowed to get down on your belly and eat anything that drops to the floor….!”
All good things have to eventually come to an end. Repentant Dorthy’s tenure had last almost a month. In that time, she had become very well-known and very popular. For some reason Dorthy had gotten the reputation of being an accomplished shit-eater. Superior throughout the Institution had begun to seek her out – not for the sexual service that she could provide, but to use her as their human toilet. There had even been a couple of Institution-wide lotteries in which hundreds of people placed bets on how many Superiors could squat themselves over Dorthy’s captive mouth and feed her the shit from their bowels before she could take no more and fall to the ground retching. The winner was Sister Vandermere, who had a tie-bet of eight shit-loads and a tie-breaking time of twenty – three minutes. Dorthy had become despondent and depressed and that in itself was a signal that the time to dispose of her would be soon in coming. Perhaps that what drove Sister Olivia’s wife, the prostitute Evette to seek Dorthy out three to four times a day in order to piss and shit in that accomplished mouth instead of her once or twice-a-day visits.
The end for Dorthy came on early on a Saturday morning. As Dorthy obediently licked Sister Ida’s pussy to orgasm and then gulped down the last the Sister’s stream of warm piss, a sharp knife wielded expertly by the Institution’s head receptionist, Miss McGowen, sliced into her throat. Miss McGowen, who had silently slid in behind the Repentant Dorthy keep a firm, even pressure on the knife as she applied it from left to right in a single motion. Miss McGown had never killed anyone before – but she had always wanted to.
“Ahhhhh….,” Miss McGowen groaned wistfully as she felt the knife cut into Dorthy’s windpipe. Very much like cutting through soft butter, she thought. It felt so good.
“Today will bring new tests and provide you with new experiences,” High Sister Adriana remarked to Slave Nancy. Although another slavegirl was busily slurping her pussy, the High Sister’s demeanor was calm, almost cold. “Of course, it will be likewise for all the other new girls here, but I will be personally attending to your activities – so don’t disappoint me, my sweet one. Just because I have a particular interest in you does not mean that I will tolerate anything less than total effort on your part.”
The High Sister nodded towards the other older woman who lay in the huge bed on which she sat. “This pretty lady here is Miss Claudia, a very close and long time friend who has heard so much from me concerning my dear, cute Nancy; how her tongue pleases and satisfies all a woman’s special places. I must say that I might have gone on about you a bit much, but I’m sure that you’ll do me proud and show Miss Claudia that I haven’t been exaggerating about you. I’m going to stop my little bitch her and take her into the other chamber so that she can finish up what she’s started. You two can be alone in here and just get well acquainted with each other. Don’t make me hear that you have provided my good friend with anything less than the fullest pleasures possible. I’d hate to start of the day having to punish you severely!”
For the other slavegirls also under the High Sister’s supervision, the day would entail many tasks and tests. Some would be new, others would be very familiar. The Superiors were not unreasonable when it came to what was planned and expected of their captive charges. Abuse for abuse’s sake was not at part of the training – except for the normal pain and distress inflicted for the pleasure of the Superiors. These slaves had been selected to be the providers of pleasure and satisfaction to the elite ladies of the Church’s Sisterhood. The fact that they were held in the complex that housed the Holy Mother herself was the prime indicator of the importance placed on their duties. Those who could demonstrate their aptitude for their assigned sexual tasks would be well cared-for and given the opportunity to live on there for the rest of their lives, usually as lesbian slavewives taken in marriage by one or more Sisters, High Sisters or some of the highest-placed assistants or staff. Those who would be unfortunate enough to be judged as failures in their duties would be quickly dispatched off as slavewhores in the South American colonies or given to the Prostitutes or worse, taken to the Roasting Ovens where they would suffer a most horrible, slow death.
But despite all it’s intricacies, the training of these special slavegirls was designed towards a very basic goal: the giving of sexaul satisfaction. And when all things were considered, it was mostly acquiring and perfecting the ability to lick Superior pussy and clit, to tongue – out Superior anus and to unflinchingly drink gallons of Superior piss and to eat and swallow Superior shitloads. All the other facets of submission; the spanking, canings, bondage and mental abuse, were secondary in importance.
Slave Torry was one of those beginning her day with more practice. Helping her achieve a higher level of proficiency at the art of eating pussy were Miss Patterson and Miss Ortiz, two Administration Staffers who were so kind as to volunteer their off time. Torry’s task was to be able to bring a Superior pussy to orgasm within five minutes, an absolutely essential ability when called upon to be the focus of entertainment at any large Superior social gathering, party or orgy.
So far, the slave had been able to eat Miss Ortiz to a quivering orgasm in seven minutes. Not bad, but also not good enough. Now she frantically licked away at the offered clit of Miss Patterson who sat on her chest.
“Now, don’t slather around so much, girl,” Miss Patterson muttered firmly. “Focus at using the tip of the tongue and keep the pressure up as you move it against my knob. Uhhhhhh…..that’s better. Now set a rhythm and keep it unless I tell you to change it
Yes…..Yessss….better. Much better….”
Although she had been repeatedly raped anally when first arrested and imprisoned, slave Dorthy still had some difficulty accommodating a large cock up her ass. Right now, she was suffering under the rude assault of Judge McKeason’s long and rather wide cock as he gleefully went about enjoying himself to the fullest. The High Sister regularly arranged small orgies attended by ranking Regime officials. Such intimate gatherings were considered to be essential in maintaining good relations between the mostly secular government and it’s allies in the official Church. The almost weekly fuck-fests were eagerly attended by all those officials eligible to be invited. Conducted in the utmost privacy, these parties/orgies usually lasted throughout the night and those Superiors taking part always make full use of those compliant slavegirls provided to them.
This was slave Dorthy’s first orgy duty and as a new face, she attracted quite a bit of attention from the guests. The attention that the Judge was giving Dorthy’s tight asshole was just in line with his temperament; his dick crassly pushed it’s way into her rectal in one
merciless shove and began immediately to pound back and forth. He cared not one bit about the slavegirl’s distress; he enjoyed what he was doing and that was that. His ruthless jack hammering against Dorthy’s behind was done with the same lack of compassion that he exhibited in his courtroom when sentencing the many helpless political defendants brought before him. And like all those defendants, poor Dorthy had no choice but to stand and take whatever he was giving her.
High Sister Adriana chuckled as she watched Dorthy struggling to maintain herself as the lusty Judge continued to slam his cock up her ass. Yes, the Sister thought to herself, the girl just might make the grade; become an accomplished slavewhore.
“Now, girl, don’t just stand there bracing yourself, that won’t make it easier on you,” the Sister advised. “Give in to it, girl. Let that big shaft of his do it’s thing. Move your ass, rotate back against his cock. Oh, yes, Dorthy, that’s better. That’s going to make him cum in no time….”
For those slavegirls who were judged not quite worthy of service to the Sisterhood’s elite, but who had clearly impressed the Sisters with their efforts, there was some measure of relief from the more dire fates of other unsuccessful candidates. After all, a slave who had shown that she was sincere in trying to be what was expected of her and had the mentality of a submissive who would do her best to please was too good a commodity to suffer an inglorious sentencing to a Latin whorehouse, servicing a hundred crude miners or laborers a day or ending her life screaming in agony as the gas-fueled fires of the ovens burned away her flesh. There were quite a few forms of service easily filled by those in-betweeners who just couldn’t make the grade.
Slave Beatrice had failed at becoming one of the relatively pampered Sisterhood slavegirls; no matter how hard or how often she tried, Beatrice’s tongue just couldn’t quite manage to bring a Superior to orgasm in short time. While others had dutifully satisfied at least three Superiors’ pussies, Beatrice would be just bringing pleasure to her first. ” That girl has an incredibly slow tongue,” one judge wrote in her report. ” Slave Beatrice is by no means lazy or uncooperative – it’s just that, no matter what, she just can’t move that tongue any faster. But her heart’s definitely in the right place in that she’s sincere in realizing her past antisocial behavior and wishes to rectify it by service to the State.”
And now slave Beatrice would be allowed the chance to service the Regime. Miss Linda was in if the ranking female guards who were entrusted with the protection of the Institute’s Administrative complex. A big, unattractive and hulking woman, Miss Linda had grown tired of getting pleasured by frightened, forced and whipped slavegirls. Miss Linda was ready for a life-partner, someone who would be exclusively hers. Someone who would be there to worship her bloated body; to please her sloppy pussy and ass.
Beatrice, sweet and earnest Beatrice, had been offered to Miss Linda in marriage. The huge woman didn’t have to think twice about it. Having a pretty 22 year-old female who maybe took a half hour to eat her to orgasm wasn’t so bad a deal; after all, in her personal time, Miss Linda was not one to be hurried, anyway….
The marriage ceremony that united the petite slavegirl Beatrice and the supersized, fat Miss Linda in matrimony was well attended -but brief. Miss Linda had made it known that she was anxious to get down to the business of training her new slavewife in the ways of providing her with the many pleasures and enjoyments of permanent sexual servitude. The Rosewood paddle had been a nice wedding present from all the friends and co-workers. And as she steered her slavebride into her small private bedroom, Miss Linda would be immediately putting her wedding present to good use….
In ways of the Institution, every slavegirl had something to contribute to the new society, no matter what it was.
Slave Nina had originally been deemed unworthy as a sexual servant to the Sisterhood and had been sentenced to die in the Roasting Ovens located in the vast bottom level beneath the Administration complex. Her physical appearance had been admired but the Sisters determined that her attitude showed reluctance to accept authority and an unwillingness to acknowledge her past sins against the Regime. In her panic at learning her fate, Nina had frantically appealed to the judging Sisters to spare her life. She had begged on her knees after crawling across the floor on her stomach; she had opened her throat to swallow down the shit of a dozen Sisters at an impromptu gathering; she had collected a half-gallon of the Sisters’ piss in a jar and had drank it all as they watched and jeered. In the end, Nina had debased herself so much that the death sentence was rescinded and she was instead assigned to be shipped off to South America to be a participant in one of the Regime’s newest schemes for repopulating the ranks of the workers who were suffering great losses of life from the heat, tropical diseases and toxic sickness from the Regime’s many uranium mines.
The Regime experts had estimated that for the economic future of the Latin colonies, an additional ten million workers had to be ready to replenish the ranks with the next twenty years. In response , the Regime had set about implementing a birthing program in which thousands of slavewhores and other female political prisoners would be forced-bred in order to bear children. Each woman would be expected to produce at least five or six children before being granted their relative freedom. It was here that Nina found herself relegated to being fucked by a dozen or so carefully-selected worker studs each day until she was judged to be pregnant.
“What’s the matter, gringa? I thought you girls were used to the best up there in the States,” sneered one of the brown-skinned attendants who were in charge of overseeing Nina’s breeding activities for the day. ” Damn, bitch, he only has half his cock up that white cunt and already you’re making a fuss! C’mon, Manuel, you might as well just push her back flat and fuck her. Put it to her as hard as you want, just don’t injure her like you did that Indian girl last week, okay? Ride this puta like you ride me and we’ll have her puttin’ out babies like one of those stupid village wives in the country!”
For those slaves who seemed totally unworthy, death in the Ovens was a likely destination. The Ovens didn’t care how beautiful a slavegirl was. They all burned the same. They all screamed and cried at the top of their lungs as the flames licked, then began to slowly destroy their flesh. The Ovens didn’t care and neither did the women oven workers who were in charge of escorting the condemned slavegirls into the oven and fastening them firmly to the thick, cast-iron posts that would hold them in place for the six flame pipes located around the base.
There were so many touching cries and calls to one’s God or even to some non-present parent as the burnings took their toll. To maximize the agony, the flame output had been designed to delay death for twenty minutes or so. Microphones were placed in order to transmit the horrible sounds or the victims throughout the vast complexes of prisoner holding – pens so that they all could hear the fate of those who didn’t meet the Institute’s standards. A devious method that worked wonders in securing the majority of the prisoners’ complete cooperation.
Sometimes a Superior would get permission to take slavegirl down to witness the Ovens’ operation for herself. Nothing worked better to guarantee a slavegirl’s complete cooperation and devotion than having her see another prisoner suffer and die from the flames.
Madame von Troiss nuzzled her slavegirl’s tearful face as they watched the attractive blonde who was bound in place in the Oven chamber start to writhe with pain from the roasting of her lower legs. The condemned girl’s amplified screams filled the room; louder , then more loud…..
” Mmmmm….,” The Madame murmured against her slave’s cheek. “Isn’t that your friend, the girl you attended college with, my dear? Claudia, I think, is her name. Am I right? Too bad. Such a pretty girl. But so stubborn and defiant. You and I will stay here and watch her suffering – and then we’ll go back to my suite, to my big bed where you’ll show me how thankful you are that I have chosen you to be my devoted bride….”
“Enrico Gaspar was the third-oldest sibling of the Gaspar family group that was in charge of one of the Regime’s smaller breeding farms located in it’s colonial South American territories. As with a lot of other Latins, Enrico secretly resented being just another colonial servant of the North American – centered Regime’s far-flung Empire. However, in his capacity as an overseer, Enrico did have a chance to engage in some sort of revenge against all those pale-skinned Anglos who tended to look upon and treat him and his fellow Latinos as inferior and untalented. His duties entailed seeing that the imported white-skinned female slaves were fucked thoroughly and impregnated so as to provide a future supply of laborers to serve the Regime’s needs – so Enrico made sure that the first baby-making sperm that the most comely slaves received upon their arrival at his South American camp was his.
“Uhhhhhhh….you puta, ” Enrico groaned as he pumped his first heavy load of cum deep within the pretty American blond’s pussy. “You bitch….You going to have your Enrico’s baby, I’ll make sure of that….”
The Anglo girl’s tears only served to spur more convulsing of Enrico’s balls and more semen to fill her.
“Move those hips, puta, and make sure that Enrico’s sperm is all milked out….”
Raul, Enrico and Ria Gaspar were never at a loss for things to do at the Gaspar Breeding Farm’s heavily-guarded and barbed- wired compound. After all, how could things be dull with the presence of over a hundred Anglo female breeding slaves and with more new ones arriving every week? And why should those mostly black breeder studs be the ones having all the pleasure and fun? No, the Gaspar siblings, along with other members of the Gaspar clan, had the right to do whatever they wished here, as long as the monthly pregnancy reports showed that a steady supply of babies would be on the way.
Raul tended to be the most critical examiner of slave flesh. Ria, the oldest and a big, lusty dyke who never could get enough, was not as selective. She just loved pale pussies and those soft pink lips that the slavegirls learned to use so well under her tutelage.
Both were just as obsessed as Enrico with the joys that their positions entitled them to.
“What do you think of this one, Ria?” Raul’s hands slid over the slim and perky body of a frightened 19 year-old slave just imported in the last few days. “Haven’t had a chance to get at this one, eh, Enrico? Well, she looks line a fine little piece, one who’ll put out at least a half-dozen babies in a short time if we keep her busy….”
“I don’t give a shit about that,” huffed Ria as she rudely pried into the slave’s shaved pussy with her big fingers. “I just want to see what she can do for me. Got a nice mouth on her. Think I’ll put her with the other pretty thing that I’ve reserved for myself tonight.”
Ria Gaspar preferred her slavegirls to be between 18 and 20, fair-haired with trim bodies and cute faces. She loved handling them roughly and using them roughly. At one time, Ria ran her own small chain of brothels on the outskirts of Lima, but this was far more enjoyable for her. Her younger brothers might resent serving the Regime’s Anglo patrons, but Ria thought it was an ideal situation. An ideal situation and an ideal opportunity to be able to fulfill every need and experience even her most extreme, secret fantasies. Not that Ria’s fantasies were all that extreme; Ria might be somewhat large in stature and perhaps a bit rough around the edges, but her needs were mostly basic. She loved the feeling of power that came from having a beautiful girl obligated to follow every order that Ria would give and dedicated to satisfying her every sexual whim.
Ria, ever addicted to the heady feeling of power, had a particular fondness for using her harnessed, hard-rubber strap-on. These Yankee slave-bitches were all a bunch of promiscuous sluts, were they not? And being the lowly, nasty little whores that they were, what was more natural than Ria making sure that their pussies got all the attention they could take? Men were so fragile, their cocks tended to so soft after cumming. These poor slave-whores were so deprived! Ria Gaspar’s strap-on didn’t go soft; it stayed rock-hard and it’s slamming was limited only by Ria’s endurance – and Ria, despite her hefty size and advanced age, still had a lot of endurance. In fact, there was nothing she enjoyed more than a sweaty, intense forty minutes of fucking a slave’s cunt and ass.
These poor slave-whores were so deprived! Ria Gaspar’s strap-on didn’t go soft; it stayed rock-hard and it’s slamming was limited only by Ria’s endurance – and Ria, despite her hefty size and advanced age, still had a lot of endurance. In fact, there was nothing she enjoyed more than a sweaty, intense forty minutes of fucking a slave’s cunt and ass. The Anglo cunt named Fiona was about to find that out firsthand.
“C’mon, bonita, don’t be afraid,” Ria cooed to Fiona, firmly steering her to the edge of the mattress. ” Your Senora Ria is going to take care of you tonight. I promise you will scream my name as I give you the loving that you deserve….”
The Gaspars were simple and straightforward people; they ran a human breeding farm for profit and pleasure. The Americanas that were shipped down from the North were simply pretty wombs ready and available for fucking and impregnating. The Masters weren’t concerned about the treatment of these slave-whores. As long as they were kept healthy enough to bear children, these captive females could be used by whatever Gaspar that wanted them and in any manner that they deemed fit.
Nan, only two days at the Farm, attracted Raul Gaspar’s attention. ” Damnmit all,” Raul exclaimed. ” How could I have missed this one? Take her off the waiting line. Who was scheduled to stud her? Oh, Miguel? Shit, that big dick of his can use some other cunt instead of this one. Unhook her and bring her to my cabin…”
Of all the Gaspars, it was Aunt Rosa who had the most unpleasant personality traits. Aunt Rosa’s needs and preferences tended to tilt towards the more painful aspects of sexuality. Humiliation of a cute Anglo slave-whore was somewhat enjoyable, of course – but Rosa needed more; in fact, she couldn’t quite seem to fathom up one of her body-shuddering orgasms without the shrill and desperate screams of her chosen slave-whore ringing in her ears. She had first been introduced to the sadistic arts while employed by her nephew Raul’s drug-running operation. Sometimes one of Raul’s business
partners would get a bit greedy and hold back or cut back on the quality or quantity of the cocaine or heroin that was purchased or sold. Aunt Rosa soon demonstrated her knack for extracting every last vestige of information from whatever dishonest scum who had been foolish enough to try and cheat the Gaspars. She had developed the routine of first making the crook watch as she went about applying her torturous techniques on a favorite member of his family. Especially a pretty daughter. Even the toughest men soon cracked and ended their silence and duplicities after being faced with the sights and sounds of a daughter’s loud agonies at the hands of Rosa Gaspar.
Now it was this breeding farm’s offerings of sweet, pale flesh that allowed Aunt Rosa to continue her adventurous ways of Sade. This was her second trip here this week and along with her long-time girlfriend, Aletta, Rosa finally found a girl that appealed to her. Rosa loved girls with large, full breasts and prominent nipples – especially nipples…..
“Pretty girl, did you enjoy me sucking and biting on those nice pink nipple-buds of yours? I hope you did, because I sure did. Love your nipples, honey. Love ’em so much that I’m going to snip them off and take them home to add to my collection.”
So many things for a new Anglo slavegirl to do if relocated to South America. Music and history, for instance. A slave might not appreciate it at first, but sometimes she might have the opportunity to explore the arts.
Slave-whore Jean was given the chance to escape the unpleasant life of a perpetually pregnant brod-whore confined at a breeding farm by a chance visit by Right Sister Jour. Sister Jour was taken by the yellow-haired American girl’s innocent looks, tight body and her clear, lilting voice. “I am invoking my right to take this winsome young cutie away from this dreary place,” the Sister had intoned. And even the Gaspars knew better than to defy one of the Right Sisters.
At Sister Jour’s quarters, Jean soon learned the history of her new surroundings. Indeed, this new place had served as a 17-century Spanish fortress and their old furniture and martial equipment was still displayed there. The Sister had a fondness of the antique “iron maiden” chamber and loved how it never failed to inspire a new captive to aspire to be the best that she could be. At the moment, Jean was certainly inspired to sing that songs that Sister Jour had insisted that she learn from the old, antique songbooks supplied to her.
“Now sing me another song,” Right Sister Jour ordered. “Sing it for the ears of me and my friend here. Better not miss a note, girl; you know how much these old songs mean to me. Sing loudly and sing well, my dear. Don’t disappoint me and force me to have my friend push the door on you…..”
“Life in the Regime’s South American colonies was hard, frantic and brutal. The system there was in constant need new female slavewhores to service the vast (and underpaid) ranks of skilled and unskilled workers and laborers who toiled in the mines and fields. The Regime had established a system of officially – sanctioned sex houses throughout the territories so that the system of supplying sex could be done in an orderly and controlled manner. Sanctioned sexhouse operators were usually given wide freedom in how they ran their establishments, as long as they managed to give the workers what they demanded. That meant that almost each sexhouse had it’s own way of doing things. Some treated their slavewhores relatively well; others treated theirs as disposable slabs of human meat.
“El Pedro House” intentionally established itself as a sexhouse that catered to the rougher type of customer. Their slavewhores didn’t last as long, but their business was booming as it catered to workers who liked to mix a little bit of ‘mistreatment’ in with the hard fucking of those captive pussies. And to further indicate to potential customers just what kind of sex was being offered inside, the “El Pedro” owners had the novel idea of using a slavewhore as an outside ‘living advertisement’.
“You’ll get only the finest cunt to fuck and have fun with. You can do what you like with our whores. Nobody will ever complain!”
‘El Pedro’ House’s live-in Madam was an ex-prostitute by the name of Cortina, a woman who took her job very seriously – mainly because she enjoyed it so much. Her pay wasn’t all that much but with free lodging and ample food and drink, Cortina was quite content. Part of that contentment was from the fact that she could freely practice her overwhelming lesbian desires to the fullest and practically without limits as long as her compelled slavewhores were not injured or otherwise prevented from their sexual duties. A new arrival at El Pedro Sex House, in Senora Cortina’s thinking, would function much better after being subjected to a few days and nights of proper ‘reorientation’ . The owners knew that this was merely an excuse for Cortina to indulge herself, but they went along with it since she was so good at managing the day-to-day operations of the whorehouse.
Senora Cortina, with her ever-present short riding crop in hand and her pussy practically overflowing it’s juices, always made sure that her newest victim would immediately learn to both fear and serve her.
This new slavewhore from the States, Ariel, had been shipped in just a day before – but already she had felt the wrath Cortina’s trusty crop and tasted the muskiness of Cortina’s offered cunt. Now the Senora was ready to for more….
“Si, sweet bonita, you’re showing that you’re a fast learner. That’s the way, my little puta, kiss my little whip – show your Senora the proper respect that she deserves from you. Kiss it slowly, lick well it with that soft tongue and maybe I will grant you the honor of being allowed to using it on my esteemed pussy again. Hmmmmm…that’s the way……..
“Now I want you to beg me to let you eat my cunt – and I want you to ask me to whip you afterwards. You must beg me to whip you so hard and so long that you pass out. Do your begging very well, dearest, or your Senora Cortina will be forced to hurt you far worse than you can ever imagine…..”
The El Pedro Sex House’s reputation of tolerance for a coarser brand of service not only attracted like-minded males, but also aroused the interest of certain females who were quick to take advantage of the rare opportunity to indulge. The women who came to El Pedro hailed from all sectors of the local society; some arrived with their husbands or boyfriends; others came discreetly, ushered in through the back entrance so thoughtfully provided by the House’s management. Most came not for sex, but to be able to gratify themselves from the infliction of pain and abuse on an especially selected Yankee slavewhore. The unfortunate girl chosen by one of these sadistic women tended to end up longing for the basic cruel fuckings meted out by the sweating, grunting male customers rather than the frequently unbearable agonies at the hands of their feminine visitors.
Marisol pushed yet another long pin slowly, ever so slowly, into the blond-haired Americana slavewhore’s perfect tit. She let a hint of a grin show on her face as the slave’s high-pitched scream filled the small room.
“Ah, you have such a pretty voice,” Marisol said in a soft purr. ” So pretty. And I like your breasts, too. I really love how their flesh yields and accepts my trusty pins when I push-h-h-h them in like this……. Ohhhh, there’s that lovely voice again….”
She stepped back a bit to watch as the captive’s suspended body thrashed and writhed yet another time. For Marisol, this was so much better than any sex. ” And you dance so well, too. I think that I’m really going to enjoy this evening. Maybe you’ll learn to enjoy it, also. After all, I have two hundred pins in the kit that I brought along….”
Sometimes the sex houses recruited regular prostitutes from the area to participate in sex shows requested by a certain guest or put on as a special mid-week attraction to bring in customers. Usually these hard-working street whores were indeed glad to earning some easy money and also having a particularly attractive white slavewhore working hard to satisfy their every demand. The pairing of hard-bitten, experienced and nasty street whores with their compliant, frightened slave counterparts always made for a good show for the rowdy and boisterous crowds of men who watched. Under the loud prompting from the crowd, the prostitutes were frequently urged on to subject their Yankee partners to the most extreme sexual acts; most shows usually ended with finales in which the slavewhores were compelled to swallow the prostitute’s piss; and there was always one or two slaves who pleased the fans as they were forced to open their mouths to accept the turds from the asses of squatting prostitutes.
But not all the interaction between the slaves and their prostitute guests took place onstage. Often, in the few hours before the crowds arrived for the scheduled performances, the visiting prostitutes would arrange to spend time with the slavewhores that had been chosen to service them in the show. For the hardened streetwalkers, this was an opportunity to find out more about their show partners. To find out about the softness of their lips, the elasticity of their pussies and the suppleness of their tongues.
Presently, slave Tammy’s tongue was passing the test; it was indeed supple and amenable as it obediently explored the funky recesses of prostitute Elenia asshole….. “Yeah… stick you pretty white face in my ass, gringa, and lick me deep…. Gonna fart on your face and shit on it too. You’ll get the full treatment!”
Being the owner of a Sex House was not always an easy position. Besides all the paperwork and auditing that was regularly demanded by his Regime superiors, there was also the often exhausting trials and tribulations caused by the presence of so many delectable pieces of slave flesh. It was unfair, having to put up with all that. Some of the owners made a point to avoid the temptations of sexual overindulgence by spending as little time as possible in the establishments that they controlled – but even with the help of a reliable madam on the premises, that was not always a feasible option. Furthermore, a good sex house owner would be remiss in his duties if he neglected to confirm for himself just what a newly-attained slavewhore had to offer to his operation. After all, a smart business owner is obliged to acquire at least some knowledge of the strengths and weaknesses of a new employee…
Senor Bernard and his wife were in the process of personally assessing one of the latest additions to their sexhouse. This slavewhore was named Maxine and she was outwardly easy on the eyes; a real looker. But the Senor and Senora needed to see for themselves just what talents Maxine had that would benefit the whorehouse and it’s many customers. Well, no need to worry, it seemed. Slavewhore Maxine’s pussy was still pretty tight and it hugged the girth of Senor Bernard’s impressive cock as he started fucking her for the third time that night. The Senor grunted in approval as he noted how the slave’s lithe body molded with his as he began to assault her hole in the rough, slamming style that he was so good at.
“Uhhhh….That’s it, puta, cry. I like my girls to cry. It shows that they really appreciate the loving that their Senor is giving them…..”
So another day and night would pass down in the Regime’s colonial sexhouses and the hard-working men who enabled the Regime to survive and thrive would descend upon one of the few forms of entertainment and pleasure available to them. To some, the fates of the political slavewhores might seem especially cruel and hopeless; but others would see them as essential contributors to the welfare of the New Order. Rather than spending their time in ill-advised and antisocial activities against their government, they were now redeeming themselves with their captive pussies, asses and mouths; bringing pleasure to those with an urgent need for it…….
“My friends, we have just had a new shipment of girls come in a few days ago, ” the sexhouse’s female huckster called out as she went about her job of attracting customers off the street. “All are pretty Anglo college bitches, straight from El Norte! Bitches who will do everything you want and empty your balls and make you happy! These are real student troublemakers who have always been pampered and privileged and this will be your chance to show them how strong your brown cocks are! Come and line up……”
Ma Stower got a little worried and checked to see how it was coming along with the new niece who had just arrived a few hours ago.
No need to worry, though; she could see right away that her family was getting ready to take of things in the proper way. It was just a matter of introducing her sister’s girl to the long – held traditions of sharing everything with one’s blood relations. Yes, the gal would a bit difficult at first, but within a few days and nights of hard lovin’ would bring her into the fold…
Down the mountain, ol’ Uncle Ray was get acquainted with his niece, Sonya.
“Now look here, girl, you done been eatin’ our food and sleepin’ on our floor. So me and the missus can’t understand why you bein’ so rude as not to let us have some fun usin’ that sweet little pussy of yours. I guess we’re gonna hafta keep you out here and have our fun floggin’ on ya until you come to see things our way.”
Big Maybelle and her sister Anna just loved playin’ around with their young nieces…
“Hey you, why so shy, huh? don’t you like the smell of it? Yeah… I agree, this’ why auntie’s pussy needs some tongue washin’!”
“C’mon, Pa, it’s time for you and your niece to really get to know each other. I done talked and reasoned with her and she’s real sorry that she put up a fuss against gettin’ fucked by her dear ol’ uncle. She done promised me that she is gonna absolutely enjoy anything that you want. She wants to be a good little whore, just like her sister over there.”
“That’s nice, girl. You sure you ain’t had that mouth of yours on a pussy before? Well, if you really haven’t done this before, you have got real natural talent. You keep on with that sweet little tongue and your Aunt Sally won’t have to be whippin’ you. Mmmmmm…..No, your dear Auntie will teach you all kinds of things and if you keep on doin’ what you’re told, your Auntie will treat you right.”
Uncle Bubba and Uncle Billy Ray didn’t have any children of their own. So when their pretty little 18-year old niece was orphaned, her two uncles saw a chance to not only have a reliable piece of fuck-meat around the cabin, but also an opportunity to finally produce some offspring of their own.
As expected, the niece tried to resist this fate, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice.
Posted April 28th 2004
Betty Ann had no choice, really, other than swallowing Cousin Chuck’s semen as it flowed down her throat.
And she also had come to realize what would happen – again – if she failed to provide him with the pleasure that he demanded from her. It had been just a bit over a week since she had come to visit her uncle’s family; now it seemed like she had been there for years. Her body ached from the hard whippings and floggings that had been put to her for her initial resistance to the sexual advances of the menfolk; her mouth still carried the foul, salty taste of their cumloads; her pussy and asshole were raw and tender from constant attack.
Kept out in the barn, Betty Ann was just what her uncle and his sons wanted in a woman – always available and subservient to their needs. A good little piece of ‘country pussy’.
“Don’t spill a drop, cousin. Country cum is all you’ll get to eat to day!”
Betty Ann was eventually brought up into the man house, of course; she now had company, as another niece had been sent to join the homestead. Jenny was just too willful, too much of a handful for her aging parents. Now she would be another welcome addition to her new “family”.
Uncle Ray was a man who believed in sharing with his extended family, so soon an invited crowd of blood relatives were invited to come over and spend some time getting real acquainted with these two newest inductees to the family lifestyle….
“Say hello to aunty Eloisa, dear… And start moistening your lips! You and I will share a relaxed siesta after lunch… Yes… a very relaxing siesta for aunty Eloisa!
Over in the next valley, the Gumer clan had taken in a fetchin’ young niece named Kate. Kate had left these parts to spend some time in the Big City, but had run into trouble with bad boyfriends and a couple of bad jobs.
Kate had desperately sought her Aunt Betra’s help – could she please stay at Aunt Betra’s place for a little bit of time while she got back on her feet?
Well, sure, her aunt had said; just as long as you contribute to keepin’ the house clean and helpin’ around here and there. But Kate soon discovered that Aunt Betra’s idea of a good niece was one who did as she was told and one who worked at household chores from dawn to dusk – often corrected and urged on by the steady application of Aunt Betra’s favored ‘whippin’ stick’…
“Oh c’mon, Betra, leave the poor girl alone… what Kate needs is a break. Bring her over here on her knees, she’s gonna empty her uncle’s balls again… they filled up again!””
When night came, Niece Kate’s duties changed to keepin’ her host family happy, real happy….. Uncle Jake, Aunt Betra, Grandpa Al and Aunt Becca all required Kate’s nimble body and her young, vigorous tongue for makin’ those long, humid nights more bearable. Uncle Jake was so hard to please; he not only insisted on those long, hard fucking sessions, he also liked using his belt on Kate.
It was almost a relief now when Kate’s elderly Aunt Becca would slowly amble into the bedroom for her turn at Kate.
“You love your Aunt Becca, don’t you, girl?”
“Yes, oh so much. I love you, Auntie.”
“Ummm..that’s so nice to hear, my cutie-pie! Give Auntie some more of those kisses with that sweet tongue of yours before you start payin’ attention to my pussy.” Becca’s breath stank and her tongue was slimy with thick saliva as it licked Kate’s lips and then probed the insides of Kate’s mouth.
“Mmmm…Goddamighty, girl, you sure do know what to do with that mouth of yours. Let’s take our time together so’s I’m real wet and ready for you. Your Uncle Jake can get his rocks off watchin’ we two girls together. Let’s give him somethin’ different tonight – after you pleasure my old cunt, why don’t I have you tongue-out my asshole and make it all clean for me? Ever done that, sweetie? No? Well, when I was in my prime, I had a couple of cute gals who did that for me all the time. Sure did love that, I did. I’m sure that you’ll start acquirin’ a taste for it if you practice it enough…”
Kate’s spirit and morale had plunged. She had done everything demanded of her at Aunt Betra’s house. She had been the exceptionally obedient slave niece that they had wanted her to be.
So it came as such as shock to Kate when, one day, without warning, she had been caged up and driven over to an isolated, run-down homestead owned by a distant uncle and aunt that she had not even met before.
Uncle Joe and Aunt Nellie needed a another strong body to help them work their disolate farm – but they lacked the funds to hire on the needed help. Kate had been ‘loaned’ to them to fill their needs.
Kate’s dispirited attitude just wouldn’t do. But Uncle Joe knew just how to get her up and movin’. After a session of spankin’ and other measures, a couple of applications of his burning cigarette to Kate’s rear pucker really got her attention. The girl would thereafter be real hard-workin’, both in the field and in their bed…
In this part of the country, a niece was one who could bring a good bit of joy and comfort to her kin. No need for outsiders to come in to help; a blood relative was always much better at providing the various wants and needs in those remote households.
Cleaning, working, giving love and attention – no one was better suited to for those things than a tender, impressionable niece….