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SLAVE MARKET
01/04/2003
In a land long torn and ravaged by war and prosecution throughout it’s long history, where men ruled and women bowed before their will without question; two naive outspoken ladies from the West came to make a change. There would be changes yes; but only for them as they experienced the wrath and depraved lust of those who still practiced the flesh trade. These powerful men go unquestioned and unchallenged. The two women would disappear like the feeble morning mist into the burning sands of the great Sahara never to be heard from again…
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The two American journalists, Jonelle Taylor and Mandy Sexton, had come to the mid-east for a story about human rights violations. After their capture by the renegade slave traders, they found out first hand all they needed to know starting on the auction block and ending in the clutches of the highest bidder. “Look at these two fine white whores my friends,” shouts the slave trader, “Make all your dreams come true. Listen to their screams as they beg for your mercy. Feel the heat of their urgent desire to please the man who can bend them to his will! To know the pleasures of their soft scented flesh, you need only outbid your neighbor. Then they will be yours to use any way you desire!”
“Watch their eyes fill with tears as we squeeze their tender breasts. Watch their pale faces redden with shame when we explore their wet cunt flesh. Now who will start the bidding for two of the finest sluts who ever graced the block?” Mandy nearly fainted from shame and horror as the slave trader slipped his finger past the ropes and into her virgin pussy. Her youthfully firm tits swayed violently from side to side as she fought to free herself from the old slave trader’s grasp and groping hand. The men were out of their mind…
Amid shouts of laughter and heated bidding, gold was traded for female flesh. Jonelle and Mandy were separated and taken away by their new owners. The girls would never see each other again, but that was the least of their worries. They had each been purchased by two of the most sadistic tribes in the country. “Come along white whore,” the dark man said to Jonelle, “we’ve got plenty of uses for this soft body of yours. You’ll be a real woman after tonight, if you survive to see the morning light. You look strong and well fed. We’ll see how well you endure your first night of torture.”
Jonelle was taken to the palace of the tribal chieftain. He and his brother took turns raping the three holes Jonelle had to offer. “This bitch was born to pleasure a man with her mouth. See how my cock grows hard at the touch of her skilled tongue?” Jonelle, fearful for her life, did what was required of her. After multiple penetrations the two men were about to orgasm. They forced her to her knees and shot off in her mouth and across her face. Thick ropes of cum lay across her face and hung from her chin as she gagged on the rest. “Guard, take this slut to our sister and her dog of a husband. And don’t let her clean up, she looks good with my cum dripping off her face, ha, ha, ha!”
With her face and hair sticky with cum, Jonelle was ushered into the chambers of Achmalla and her husband Jazrit. T he poor woman was immediately set upon. Jazrit bound her arms tightly behind her back and pulled her head back by the hair while Achmalla nimbly slid two rings through the flesh of Jonelle’s prominent nipples. “GHHAAAAAAA!” she screamed as the cold metal pierced her warm tit-flesh, but the scream was cut short as Jazrit grabbed her by the throat. Achmalla slipped two fine ropes through the piercing rings and handed them to her mate. “Ride this whore,” she said, “ride her hard and make her scream. Then when you are finished, I’ll ride this bitch’s face like a camel in a sandstorm until she’s covered with my juices!”
Mandy’s fate was much the same as her companion Jonelle’s: torture, rape and submission. Upon arriving at the palace of her new owners she was placed in stocks. Azulla, a slave girl, brought an urn of scented oil to her master, who poured it across Mandy’s upturned chest. “This smells nice, sweet slave, but you will forget the smell soon enough. When the whip cuts across your white tits the spices in the oil will fill the cuts and cause the pain to increase a thousand fold.” The next thing Mandy heard was the whistle of the whip followed by the crack of leather against flesh. “AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEE, NNNNNOOOOOOMMFFFF!!!” Mandy screeched around the large pole gag that distended her jaw. Azulla was ordered to kneel and lick the white woman’s cunt as the whip landed across Mandy’s chest. The screams of the innocent tortured girl were heard throughout the castle. The men gathered round and took turns raping and whipping the girl until she passed out from the heat and the pain. “Tend this whore’s wounds then take her to the hermit. He deserves a little fun too!”
Mandy awoke to the sound of her own screams as she was lowered onto the meter high polished wooden dildo. Her weight was supported by her raised arms. Try as she might though, she was too weak to lift herself off the stake that impaled her cum soaked pussy. Her oiled flesh glistened in the firelight. Shaking violently each muscle stood out as Mandy tried to pull herself up. When she finally sank fully onto the pole, the old hermit tied her nipples to the stakes that held her legs so widely spread. He pulled brutally on the strings to keep her screaming at a maximum. He tortured her like a musician plays a fine violin. He conducted a concert of horror and anguish for the listening ears in the Palace below. He would fuck her later, but much later indeed. For now, he was content to spend the evening turning this refined western woman into a mindless wretched screaming beast. He would see that Mandy would forget her own name as she came only to know a thousand shades of relentless pain.