Urban Sex Slaves [HINES]


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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.

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