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From: boonthailand@hotmail.com (Boon)
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Subject: {ASSM} Gentleman's Club by John Argus (Part 1)
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Date: Thu, 26 Aug 2004 04:10:03 -0400
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THE GENTLEMAN'S CLUB by John AngusCopyright John Angus   
         Sir Edward Rawlins stared eagerly out the window of
thehelicopter as the island came into view. There was little to see,
for the aircraft approach lane was designed to minimize sightseeing
from the air. All he could catch sight of was the lush tropical
greenery, the long white sanded beaches, and the red tiled roof of the
large and beautiful main residence building.
         His chest was gripped by an anxious tightness as the
helicopter came into land, and he still found it hard to believe the
fanciful tales which had been told him about the Viceroy Club, the
gentleman'sassociation of which he was now a probationary member.
        The helicopter landed perfectly and he, its only passenger,
stepped out to be greeted by a thin faced older man in a smart suit.
If the warmth bothered the man he gave no sign as he bowed, actually
bowed to Sir Edward before directing two other men in ties and tails
into the helicopter for his bags.
        "Sir Edward, my name is Anthony. On behalf of the staff let me
be the first to greet you and welcome you to the Viceroy."
        "Um, er, well, thank you," Edward said, licking his lips a
trifle nervously.
        His particular, well, preferences had been a long held secret,
and he was uncomfortable with anyone knowing about them. He was still
far from certain how the Viceroy had come to be aware of them.
       "I'm at your disposal, Sir, if you'd like a tour of the
facilities. Or I'll show you to your suite if you'd like to relax."
         "I'd, er, rather like a quick tour actually," Edward said
hesitantly.
        "Of course, sir. Your bags will be taken to your suite and
your things made ready for you. In the meantime, if you would come
this way please, sir?"
        Edward smiled as the man bowed again and swept his arm towards
a Rolls sitting a few yards away. He was happy that this place, at
least, had help which knew its place. That was something of a rarity
even in London's better shops and clubs. He walked to the Rolls, where
a Chauffeur bowed and held the door for him. Anthony got in beside him
and the chauffeur pulled away from the helicopter.
        The ride was a brief one, ending at a small garage set amongst
the trees. The chauffeur hopped out and opened the door on his side,
bowing again as Anthony got out. Edward preened at this respect, for
he seldom experienced it back home, where, despite his wealth
andundeniable physical attractiveness he was something of an outcast,
the butt of jokes amongst his peers and even in the mass media.
       Edward was in his early thirties, yet his boyish, handsome face
was far from the only thing about him which was immature. He had a
tendency to sulk when he didn't get his way, was a well-known coward
and bully, and had a cruel streak which made him such a tyrant to his
servants that it had proved almost impossible to keep any, even at
triple wages.
        Anthony led him down a winding, flower-lined path and thence
into another building, where they were met by a small, gruff man in
working clothes.
        "A carriage for two, in Sir Edward's name," Anthony said.
         "Right away, Sir Edward," the man said respectfully, bowing
and tipping his hat before hurrying away.
        Anthony and Edward followed, and Edward suddenly halted,
brought up short in astonishment as the man opened what appeared to be
cages and brought out two women.
        The women were both quite tall, and muscular, and entirely
nude. Their bodies gleamed darkly, heavily tanned, and each had a sort
of harness about her upper torso.
        The leather harness was composed of straps over their
shoulders and around their chests. Both women had their arms bound in
leather sleeves which pulled them behind their backs and then up high,
the tops of the sleeves, obviously containing their hands, bound to
collars at the back of their necks.
        Neither woman struggled or made any effort to protest as they
were led towards a small, low-slung carriage and their harnesses
attached to the front. As Edward's wide-eyed stare took in every
detail he watched the man attach lead lines to small rings in their
nipples. These lines led under their arms and back to the carriage.
        "Step aboard, Sir Edward," Anthony said, bowing and motioning
him towards the carriage.
        Edward obeyed in a daze, climbing up and taking his place on a
heavily padded seat while Anthony got aboard next to him.
        "These are their reins, of course," Anthony said.
         Edward took them, staring at them, then ahead at the tight,
firm buttocks of the two women now attached to the carriage.
        "And that's for encouragement," Anthony said, pointing at the
buggy whip protruding from a small holder next to Edward's seat.
         "How, I mean to say, how um -"
        "As you would horses or oxen," Anthony smiled.
         Edward swallowed then snapped the reins. The two women
started walking forward, then began to jog, leading them along a
paved,cobblestone path through the grounds.
        "My God," he said, shaking his head.
        "Our membership prefers a civilized mode of transportation
rather than smelly cars or unsightly golf carts," Anthony said with a
smile.
        The carriage took them to the edge of a rolling eighteen hole
golf course, where Anthony explained a few of the finer points, then
to a large, beautiful pool of water below a waterfall, then down to
the beaches before turning towards what he called the barn.
        "We're quite proud of the barn, really," Anthony said. "Our
breeding program is well underway now. Our ambition is to
beself-sustaining. That's not to say occasional new blood won't added
into the mix, but we won't need the constant recruitment we now
require to satisfy our members' needs."        "How do you er, uh, get
your new recruits?"
        "Oh we have a number of ways. We have contacts out there,
people who recruit for us, who are on the watch for just the right
kind of girl for the Viceroy. Usually these are young ladies with
little if any family who will not really cause much of a stir when
they disappear. Sometimes, of course, we recruit what we call special
girls."
         "Special?"
        "Oh, certain young ladies whom a member or members considers
especially deserving of such treatment, if you know what I mean."
        "So I could have a particular girl, er, imported then if I
wanted?"
        "Certainly, for a price."
        "I have just the one in mind," he said. He licked his lips at
the thought of Amanda...
    
       "Have you ever done any bondage?"
        The words hit her with a sudden jarring burst of excitement,
and Lisa could feel her chest tightening as butterflies took flight in
her stomach.
        "I - no," she all but whispered.
        David smiled roguishly and quirked his lip at her.
        "Would you like to be my little slave girl?" he breathed,
sliding his fingers through her hair.
        Excitement warred with caution inside her. She'd only known
David for two weeks now, and they'd only made love on two occasions.
He was a stunningly attractive man with a deeply sensuous and exciting
personality, but she had already come to realize that he had a cruel
streak.
        Yet the idea was so erotic, and though she'd had fantasies
about bondage before she'd not dared voice them to any of her former
lovers for fear of being seen as a tramp, or worse yet, pathetically
unbalanced.
        "Come on," he teased, his fingers easing down along her ribs
then up her front, cupping her breasts and lifting them upwards as his
lips brushed the top of her head.
        God, he was so sexy! She nodded her head shakily. Surely David
wouldn't do anything that would hurt her. After all, what was there to
fear? It wasn't like he could, well, rape her, not when she'd already
given herself to him.
        He smiled and she felt an instant wave of delight at having
pleased him, at the same time feeling a nagging doubt that she'd
opened herself up to something she wasn't quite ready for. Her female
friends thought David was dreamy, him with his smirk and his pretty
face and powerful body and big motorcycle. But her male friends were
deeply suspicious of him, and she wondered if they knew something
about him, if they could see something she and other women couldn't.
        She moved to unbutton her blouse but David stopped her.
        "Don't move. Don't do a thing. You're my slave now. You only
do what I tell you to do."
        His slave! She felt her stomach quiver and felt a heaviness in
her loins.
        He deftly unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off, then
quickly removed her skirt as well. He led her to the bed and pushed
her down on it, then removed her shoes and socks before slipping her
panties down her legs and off.
        Lisa blushed a bit as he spread her legs wide. Her sex life,
prior to David, had not been terribly exciting nor
particularlystimulating. She'd had a few brief couplings with boys
during high school, mostly in the backs of cars. They'd lasted minutes
and brought her little pleasure. Then, in the two years since she'd
had two sexual experiences, neither going much above her high school
fumblings.
         And then had come David, and his hours long lovemaking
sessions that had brought her her first orgasms, had made her cry out
with a lust she'd never imagined she could possess. He had been the
first outside her doctor to actually spend any time 'down there', the
first to show her how delicious a tongue could feel on her labia and
clitoris.
         He really opened an entirely new window in her life and she
was determined to keep it open. And if that meant exploring bondage,
which, while exciting was also worrying, then she'd have to have the
courage for it.        He removed her bra, then had her spread out on
her large bed. He winked at her, then left the bedroom for a few
moments. When he returned he was holding four long black straps in one
hand.
        In a businesslike fashion he began to strap her wrists and
ankles to the four corners of the bed. Even as she watched him do it
Lisa felt a strange sense of being used, of him having coldly planned
this ahead of time.        Yet that concern quickly evaporated as the
leather closed tightly about her wrists and she felt the straps go
taut against the top corners of the bed. She felt her arousal deepen,
her breath quickening as he moved to the foot of the bed and fastened
the straps to the bottom posts.
        Then, when she was laid out helplessly he slowly unbuckled his
belt, smirking at her as she lay there before him.
        She strained against the straps, feeling her sense
ofhelplessness growing along with the heat between her thighs. At the
same time she felt an odd delight at being so bold, at taking part in
something that was, at least to her, so wicked, so far from the old
boring, mousy Lisa.
        When he was down to his underwear he paused and walked out of
the room again, returning with something in his hand. His expression
was, she thought, odd. He almost looked bored, and certainly far too
casual for what was, to her, an incredibly exciting and novel
experience.
        He knelt on the edge of the bed and reached behind her.
        "Tilt your head back, slut," he said casually.
        She felt indignation war with excitement at his crude words,
but obeyed.
        "Open your mouth wide. Wider. Wider!" he snapped.
         She opened her mouth wide, startled, and he brought the thing
he'd carried to her face, then jammed it against her mouth before she
could protest. It was a thick rubber ball of sorts, and he shoved it
into her mouth with brutal and painful strength, forcing her jaws wide
apart and filling her mouth.
        She rolled her eyes, trying to talk, trying to demand he take
it out, but her tongue was jammed down by the thing, and he was
pulling straps around her head and buckling the rubber thing in place.
        He stepped back, letting her head fall, and again she tried to
complain, tried to tell him she didn't like the thing, but she could
barely make a sound as he casually stripped off his underwear and
knelt between her legs.
        He sneered at her, then his open hand lashed out and cracked
across the side of her face, stunning her and bringing tears to her
eyes.
        "Stupid whore," he said in disgust.
        He gripped himself, pumping his fist up and down his erection
as he watched her writhe helplessly, then he pushed the head of his
cock against her and thrust into her.
        She cried out in pain, staring up at him in shock and fear.
Again she cried out as he dropped his heavy weight atop her and drove
the last inch of his manhood into her opening.
        He began to thrust into her wildly then, grunting as he
pounded himself up into her belly. This was not the gentle lovemaking
she'd become used to. This was not the considerate lover who's hands
did marvellous things to her body.
        He was not making love, he was fucking her, she thought, for
the first time really understanding the distinction between the terms.
His hips ground against her as he slammed himself into her again and
again, making no effort to give her pleasure, using her like the cheap
whore he had just called her.
        He finished quickly, as he must at the pace he'd set, and
heaved a sigh of relief as he pulled back onto his knees.
        "What? Too rough for you?" he said with a smirk. "Come on,
baby. You know a slut like you loves cock any way she can get it."
        Why was he talking to her like that? Was this all a game?
Well, of course it must be, she thought. It was a rough kind of game,
a role playing game, and she wasn't at all sure she liked it.
        He ran his hands over her body, fingering her nipples and
pinching them, then moved a hand between her legs, slipping two
fingers up inside her.
        "Think I can make you come on my fingers, baby?" he taunted.  
      And he could. She knew he could, for even as her anger grew at
his treatment she felt her heat reawakening as his expert fingers
probed within her and his thumb worked away at her clitoris.
        It was just a game, after all, and she could talk with him
later about making it more gentle. But in the meantime, she felt the
sexual heat rising within her, and gave herself over to a fantasy of
being the helpless prisoner of an evil madman who was intent on
molesting her for his own evil purposes.
        The fantasy added to her pleasure, and she strained against
the straps holding her, gasping and moaning as he continued to finger
her in a careless, almost contemptuous manner.
        "Maybe I should bring in a ruddy football team to use you," he
said. "I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you, you tramp! You'd love to
get yourself done by a dozen men at once, to get yourself gang
banged!"
         Lisa whimpered into the gag, her head jerking back in tight
little movements as she sought to drive herself up against his
fingers. A sexual haze was surrounding her, growing more dense with
each second, catching her up in a world where nothing mattered but her
own pleasure, her own lust.
        Her movements became more and more energetic as she ground
herself up at him, groaning and gasping as she pulled at the straps
binding her. Her body throbbed with sexual need and the intensity
continued to grow.
        He pulled his hand away and stood up, then moved out of the
bedroom again. She moaned and rolled her eyes towards the door,
mentally begging him to return, to give her the relief she so
desperately needed.
          She heard his voice, and strained to hear what he was
saying, but in a moment she felt a dagger of shock hit her as she
realized he was not talking to her. He returned and with him were two
more men, neither of whom she knew.
        "Very nice," one of them said as he moved to the bed and
limbed into it.
        "Aye, nice piece of meat that," the second said, nodding his
head. "Good body, nice face, nice hair."
        She stared at them both in shock, unable to understand this
betrayal, feeling her face go scarlet as they eyed her exposed body.
         She jerked her eyes to the men who'd climbed into the bed and
her eyes widened as he dropped his pants and produced a large
erection.
         He shuffled forward, and she watched with a mixture of
embarrassment, astonishment and, much to her bewilderment, excitement
as he pushed himself against her moist, reddened labia, then thrust
himself into her.
        He chuckled as he met her wide eyes, his fingers sinking into
the softness of her breasts, squeezing them together as he humped into
her with a deep, steady stroke.
        She turned her head towards David, but he was talking with the
other man, ignoring her as this man raped her.
        She felt a deep indignation, and furiously tried to push down
her growing sense of delight as the man using her stroked his cock
back and forth against her buzzing, burning clitoris.
        Bastards, she thought. Rotten dirty bastards!
        Yet her groin was alive with heat, and it surged upwards into
her belly and up through her chest as he drove himself into her again
and again. She became desperate in her attempt to resist it, but as it
caught hold of her mind she resigned herself to it, no longer having
the will to fight against the bliss engulfing her.
        She laid her head back, grunting in time to his hard thrusts,
moaning as his hands crudely mauled her breasts and moved
withoutrageous familiarity over her nude body.
        She felt herself rising towards an orgasm, her mind fluttering
wildly in the stormy winds of intense sexual pleasure.
        Her head jerked back once, twice, then she cried out, the
sound barely audible through the gag, arching her back, her body
stiffening then shaking violently as the climax rippled up and down
her spine.
         And as the howling sexual maelstrom collapsed the last
vestiges of her resistance she felt nothing but the hard, steady
pounding of his tool into her seeping cleft, and the crackling sexual
electricity that was setting her muscles to spasm in helpless delight.
        She went limp, groaning, eyes closed even as he continued to
pump into her. She felt him stop, but didn't even open her eyes to
acknowledge it as he moved away from her and got off the bed. She
opened them only when she felt the bed shake again, opened them to see
the second man leering at her as he moved into position.
        Gripped by a deep, languorous afterglow she could only watch
with dull eyes as he entered her and began a high-speed rutting that
set her and the bed shaking.
        She noted David and the other man placing her open suitcases
on the nearby dresser, and saw them taking items from her closet and
dressers.        Then she gasped, her attention diverted by the man
atop her as he gripped her long blonde hair, yanked her head up and
back and began to chew painfully on her exposed throat.
        Fortunately he spent himself quickly. Then he joined the other
two, ignoring her there on the bed as they loaded up several suitcases
with her clothes and toiletries and removed them from the room.
        She pulled again at the straps, but they were immoveable, and
despite a growing fury she could do nothing but lay there.
        Finally David moved to the bed and unstrapped her ankles. She
glared at him balefully, just waiting for him to remove the gag. Then
he was out! She'd toss him and his filthy friends out of her flat and
out of her life!
        One of the men joined him as they unstrapped her wrists from
the bedpost, but her sudden furious attempt to pull away was met by a
slap across the face that sent her head whipping backwards.
        They took her by the arms and dragged her out of the bed,
pulling over to the table and sitting her roughly in the chair next to
it. David slapped a piece of paper down in front of her and then
placed her hand on it, sticking a pen into her fingers.
        "You're going to write a letter to your girlfriend Susan," he
said. "I'll dictate. You write."
        She rolled her eyes at him and struggled but the other man
forced her left arm up behind her back painfully and she screamed,
tears filling her eyes.
        "Just do as you're told or else," David snarled, gripping her
hair and twisting it violently.
        "Start the letter. 'Dear Susan'," he said. 
       She moaned and turned her eyes away, then screamed as his open
handed blow sent her head flying back.
        "I gave you an order, you slut! Now do it!" he snarled.
         He gave her the pen again and she wrote as he dictated,
telling Susan she was going on a sudden holiday to Africa with David
and wasn't sure when she'd be back. After she signed it David and the
man behind her stood her up, then quickly strapped her wrists together
behind her back.
        The two men moved ahead of them, and she and David followed
behind, David keeping a firm grip on her arm as he led her to the
front door. She tried to draw back as she realized his intent but a
slap to the head dissuaded her as he led her outside into the cool
night.
         She had a basement flat in the back of the building. Its
entrance was at the side, and no windows faced into the small parking
lot as he led her across it to a small gray van parked nearby. Her
mind was filled with terror as she tried to understand what was
happening, and why.
        He thrust her into the van, then he waved at her and winked.
"See you again sometime, baby," he said with a grin.
        The door slid shut and the van started forward.
        "Cheer up, love," the man in the back with her said as he
slipped his hand between her legs. "You won't have to worry about
paying the rent where you're going."
        He laughed in delight at his own wit.

        Amanda Graham fought hard to keep her eyes open as Professor
Jennings droned on and on about the merit's of charting a decade long
corporate history of any intended investment, filling the board with a
veritable blizzard of graphs and scrawled formulas.
        It was a quarter to ten in the morning. The class had begun at
eight thirty, and though she'd been up until four (her boyfriend Neil
having been particularly enthusiastic in his lovemaking the previous
night) she had faithfully dragged herself out of his warm bed to make
the early morning jaunt here for this class.
        And now she could hardly wait for it to end.
        Finally he assigned homework and she shoved her things into
her bag and stood up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She trotted down the
hall and took the stairs two at a time, knowing that if she was quick
she'd get home before Neil was even out of bed, and wouldn't that be
fun.
         She had to be quick with several young men of her
acquaintance who tried to discuss this or that with her, for she knew
that anything but brusqueness would only encourage them.
        Male attention, mostly unwanted, though not always, had been
both a pleasure and a cross to bear since her twelfth birthday. She'd
always been extraordinarily attractive, a girl adults loved to hug and
pat and fawn over, but at twelve she'd developed into something else
again.
        She retained the adorable face, though it slowly took on less
that of the wide-eyed innocent child then of the sleek, sophisticated
young woman. Her long, lush, chestnut coloured hair flowed about her
like a lion's main, and tumbled past her shoulders like a silken
waterfall.
 It framed a softly rounded face with a small nose, piercing green
eyes, full, sensuous lips and perfect glistening teeth.
        She was six feet tall, and had always been quite athletic. Her
long, exquisite legs were perfectly sculpted, her buttocks tight and
round, her waist narrow.
        Her breasts were high and on a smaller woman would have seemed
overly large, yet on her frame seemed in perfect symmetry with the
rest of her. She had grown yet another bra size just before
startinguniversity, and now wore a size thirty-eight D cup, which she
hoped would be her last for quite some time.
        Despite their generous size her breasts were astonishingly
firm, the small, neat nipples tilted slightly upwards when she stood
straight.          All in all, she presented the absolute height of
feminine beauty and desirability, and had been pursued rabidly by
boys, and then men, from before she'd even begun her teenage years.
Now, as she faced the end of them, her twentieth birthday a few months
off, she often found herself the subject of lust and flattery from
hungry males of all ages and descriptions.
        She had a whip-sharp intellect, and refused to be condescended
to or patronized by men seeking to ingratiate themselves to her by
flattery. She knew what they were after and would have none of it.
Dignified and proud, she had cut a swath through high school and was
doing so in university as well, leaving legions of male admirers in
her wake.
        "Damn," she said softly as she rounded a tree-lined curb and
saw a long van parked across the road.
        She braked sharply, bringing the Jag to a halt. She glowered
at the two men ahead of her even as he noticed another car coming up
behind her and stopping with its nose against her bumper.
        One of the men with the van walked over and bent over next to
her window.
        "Is there a problem?" she asked.
        "Just a slight one, miss. Step out of the car, would you?"
        She frowned at him in surprise. She looked behind her and saw
a tall woman in a leather jacket climb out of the Fiat behind her so
shrugged and opened the door.
        "I don't understand," she said. "What is it you want?"
         The man was large and rough looking, with long brown hair.
His chest bulged against a dirty T-shirt. She looked around warily and
was reassured to see the other woman sit back against the front side
of her own car, folding her arms across her chest as she looked on.
        The second man came over then and looked her over, folding his
arms across his chest.
        "Aren't you something!" he said.
        "Look. What is this about?" she demanded firmly, keeping the
tremor from her voice only with the greatest of effort.
        "Get your clothes off," the first man ordered.
         "I beg your pardon?"
        His open hand lashed out and cracked against the side of her
face, flinging her back against her car. She gasped as she saw stars,
clutching the side of the car to keep from falling.
        "I said get your clothes off. We haven't got all day."
         Amanda staggered to her feet only to meet the other man's
open hand. Again her head whipped back and she cried out as she fell
across the front of the Jag.
        "Clothes off," the first man said, sounding almost bored.
         "P-please," she gasped. "I - I have money and -"
         A fist slammed into her stomach with enough force to double
her over and knock the wind from her lungs. She collapsed to her
knees, gasping and choking as she clutched her aching stomach and
fought nausea.
        "Do as you're told," the man said.
        He gripped her hair, winding it around his fist and yanking
her to her feet. She screamed and clawed madly at him only to get
another slap, then another, then another. She staggered back and fell
on her back at the side of the road, gasping dazedly.
        "Strip," he ordered, his feet stepping into the dirt next to
her head.
        The other man came and stood on her other side, reached down
and yanked her up to her feet. Her face was hot and aching from the
slaps and her mind was fluttering like a butterfly. She had no
experience with violence and it had deeply shocked her.
        The man raised his hand again and she cowered back with a cry,
her hands going to her blazer.
        He halted as she jerked her blazer off and dropped it into the
dirt at the side of the road. Her trembling fingers went to her blouse
and she undid them slowly then pulled it open and off.
        "Please," she whimpered.
        Another blow sent her head snapping back and again she hit the
ground, sobbing now, whimpering. She rolled onto her stomach, covering
her face with her hands but screamed as her hair was again used to
force her back to her feet.
        The other woman was looking on, obviously a part of things.
She was older than Amanda, close to thirty. Cooly sophisticated, her
make-up perfect, her pants and top tight but stylish, she calmly
smoked a cigarette as she watched.
        There was no boredom in her eyes, but neither was there the
hint of help or sympathy. Instead she smiled and looked excited as
Amanda removed her shoes then shakily undid her trousers and slipped
them down.
          Tears trickled from Amanda's cheeks as she moved her hands
behind her and undid her bra.
        "M-my father has money... NO!"
        She cowered back as the man raised his arm again sobbing
        "Strip." 
       She was behind embarrassment now as she slipped her silky bra
over her shoulders and let it fall. The men eyed her breasts with
smirks and she cringed mentally as she undid her panties and cowered
there naked.
        "Stand up straight!" the man said sharply.
        She gasped, standing straight, chest heaving.
        "Hands behind your head! Push those fat tits out!"
         She obeyed, whimpering as he kicked her feet apart in the
dirt, and jerked her arms back harder, forcing her back to arch. The
two men ran their eyes over her but didn't touch her.
        Then the woman came forward slowly. She wore stiletto heels
and carried herself with confidence and authority. She was taller than
Amanda, and much broader at the shoulder, muscular and powerful
looking though obviously in excellent shape.
        She looked Amanda up and down, moving slowly around her, and
Amanda gasped as she felt the woman's finger slide down her spine and
between her buttocks.        She jerked aside, her hands coming down
only to be cuffed across the face and flung back into the dirt.
        "Please! Please!" she sobbed.
        "Come here, girl," the woman ordered, pointing at the dirt
next to her feet.
        Amanda moaned and pushed herself up.
        "No! Crawl here! Now! On your belly!"
        One of the men moved beside her and she cried out as his boot
pressed down against her back between her shoulder blades, forcing her
breasts into the dirt.
        "Now! We haven't all day. Sooner or later someone is going to
wonder why this road is closed."
        She crawled forward on her belly, panting for breath, eyes
blinking back tears as she pulled her nude body through the dirt and
weeds and stones until she was at the woman's feet.
        "Look at what you've done," the woman said angrily. "You've
made my shoes dirty. Clean them off. Now, girl. Before I lose my
temper with you."
        Amanda raised her head, gulping in air, confused and
flustered.
         "With your tongue, you dog!" the woman snarled.        
Amanda looked at the woman's shoes, then cried out as one of the men
stomped his foot down on her back.
        "Do I need to take a belt to you?"
        They were mad! They were all mad! Why were they doing this to
her?
        The woman growled and Amanda hurriedly lowered her lips to the
gleaming shoes. She hesitated briefly, then pushed her small pink
tongue out and licked tentatively at the side of one shoe.
        "Hurry!"
        She licked harder, her tongue darting out, lapping across the
side of the shoe as the two men watched and sniggered.
        "Yes, you learn quickly," the woman purred.
        A knee slammed into the small of her back and Amanda grunted
as her arms were yanked up and back behind her. She continued to lick
as she felt her hands placed together and a thick strap slipped around
her wrists snap tight. Another strap went around her arms just below
her elbows and she let out a cry of pain as her arms were forced
painfully back until her elbows touched.        The woman gripped her
hair then and yanked her to her feet. She smiled and then crushed her
lips against Amanda's mouth, her tongue plunging deep as her hand came
up and cupped one of her dusty breasts, squeezing hard.
        Then she shoved her back into the arms of the two men and
Amanda screamed as her hair was pulled back savagely. With her mouth
wide a spongy rubber ball was jammed into it, keeping her jaws wide.
The ball was attached to a strap which went around her head and
buckled behind her.
        Moments later the woman marched her to the van and flung her
inside, smiling as she stood back and let one of the men get in.
         "I'm sure we'll meet again, my dear," she said with a cool
smile.
        The door closed and she was in darkness for a few moments. A
light was turned on and the man leered down at her, his eyes moving
over her body.
        "Now you just hold still, love," he said, removing a syringe
from his pocket.
        He rolled her onto her side, then plunged the needle into her
upper arm. Almost at once she began to feel light-headed, then the
world faded slowly around her.
 
       No matter what awaited her, Lisa moaned in pathetic gratitude
at the sudden touch of a hand on her bare breast. She had been held
utterly immobile, blinded and deaf, for what seemed ages. Her throat
and mouth ached with dryness and her limbs were cramped from lack of
movement. Anything, even rape, was better than that!
        She felt the straps unbuckled, then hands lifted her up from
whatever box she'd been in and set her down on a hard surface. Her
arms were numb, but her legs groaned in pleasure at the sensuous
delight of being able to bend just a little, even if for a moment.
        She felt the sheath unrolled, pulled down her legs and off,
and spread her legs slowly, utterly heedless of who might be there,
who might be looking down at her nude body.
        It felt glorious, and the pleasure rolled up and down her
body. She slowly bent her legs up, keeping them well apart, and even
when a hand slipped between her sweating thighs and began to squeeze
her pussy it did not detract from the sensations.
        In fact, as the fingers began to rub against her clitoris she
felt a rapid buildup of sexual heat. she drew her knees up even
further, back even more, groaning into the gag as she spread them and
opened them, bent them and opened them. And as the finger rubbed
insistently at her clitoris a small orgasm rolled over her dazed mind.
        Her legs dropped back, her back arching, her head turning from
side to side. She cared nothing for pride, only for the pleasure that
was rippling through her body. Her heels drummed against the surface
below as she shook violently.
        Then she lay still, gasping desperately for breath.
        It had taken much less than a minute for her orgasm.
        Hands rolled her onto her stomach and the sheathe was
unstrapped and rolled down her arms and off, then her hands were
unstrapped, and finally, the hood was unbuckled and slid free over her
head.
        She squinted and blinked as bright lights assaulted her eyes,
tears starting to fill them as her ball-gag was removed.
        She was in a long, low stone room sitting on a high, wide work
table of sorts. The walls were lined with cabinets closets, and
strange looking devices whose purpose she couldn't even guess at. Two
men were in the room, both clad in dark coveralls, both grinning at
her even while treating her with a casualness that was both reassuring
and frightening.
        She tried to speak but her throat was too dry and she coughed
instead. One of the men pulled her head back and held the plastic tube
of a drinking cup against her lips. She sucked greedily, swallowing
the cool liquid with a relish she never thought she would accord mere
water.
          She tried to reach for the cup herself but her arms would
hardly function. They had been pinned back for so long - how long she
didn't know, that they were only now beginning to throb painfully
withreawakened feeling.
        And even as she sat there drinking one of the men was placing
a thick padded leather restraint around each wrist, locking them in
place calmly and efficiently.
        There was a rail running along the ceiling just overhead, long
meat hooks hanging from it on rollers. As the drinking cup was pulled
away her wrists were fastened together in front of her by means of a
small round metal link, then she was lifted up by the two men and the
link slipped over one of the hooks overhead.
        She gasped and groaned as her full weight dropped on her
wrists and aching arms and shoulders, but the men seemed unconcerned
with her discomfort. One gave a hard shove to her back and the hook
glided briskly along the rail, carrying her towards an opening in the
far wall.
          She saw the box she had obviously been inside of pushed
aside and another come forward, rolling through a small opening in the
other wall on a treadmill. The two men lifted the box off and onto the
table, opened it, then took another woman from the box, laying her out
on the table as Lisa herself had been.
        That girl was also hooded and bound, and Lisa had no
opportunity to see the face as one of the men came over and gave her
another casual shove, sending her gliding through the narrow opening
in the wall and into the next room.
        Another man waited her there, wearing a heavy leather apron
and gloves. He gripped her hip and slid her further into the room then
picked up a hose and pointed it at her. Water poured over her as she
gasped and sputtered and twisted on the end of the hook.
        Still, in a way she was grateful for it. The tight leather had
made her sweat, as had her desperate predicament, and she felt filthy
and bedraggled.
        She had barely had enough time to get over her
patheticgratitude at being freed of her bondage. Yet she wondered at
her lack of embarrassment around these men. Perhaps it was her
confusion and weariness, perhaps the strange kind of hospital
mentality which people got after repeated exposures to indifferent
strangers.
        Still it felt odd, like she were a piece of meat, or some kind
of product. The men paid little attention to her displayed body,
moving around her as he soaked her with the warm water from the hose,
eyes calm and indifferent.
        He set down the hose and picked up a large sponge then began
to scrub her down, starting at her chest. The sponge was soapy, and he
quickly raised a lather across her body, moving quickly and
efficiently from top to bottom.
        He put the soap down and moved behind her, then pulled her
head back and poured something liquid into her hair. His rubbery
fingers scrubbed and another layer of soap rose as he shampooed her
hair. A radio was playing in a distant room, the music soft and
dreamy.
        He moved around in front of her and lifted her left leg up and
apart, slipping a strap around it to hold it in position. Her right
leg was likewise lifted up and apart, baring her loins and buttocks in
a quite lewd manner.
        He hummed to himself as he picked up a narrow tube and slowly
pushed it up into her cleft. Lisa grunted and felt a new
embarrassment, yet again, the man was so casual that it was obvious he
was merely doing his job.
        The cone pushed deep and she felt warm soapy water pumping out
and then spilling out between her pussy lips. The cone moved around
inside her a little, then pulled back. He pushed another narrow
cylinder into her body, this one made of a soft spongy substance. Like
the cone it slipped up high into her pussy, and he began to pump it
slowly in and out, twisting it from side to side as he cleaned her
out.
        She never spoke, did not try to ask any questions. Her mind
was still trying to come to terms with what had happened to her, what
was happening to her, and she knew that demanding she be freed was
utterly pointless.
        The cone was re-inserted and more water washed her out,
pouring down onto the floor below to disappear into a drain obviously
made for this purpose.
      He picked up another tube and she gasped as he pushed it against
her rectum, then thrust it slowly inside and drove it deep. More water
pumped into her, yet this time it didn't dribble out, for the pump had
a rounded plug which had been slipped into her as well, blocking her
neatly.
        She whimpered softly as she felt the water filling her, felt
her bowels getting heavy with it and her stomach starting to ache. She
imagined she saw her lower belly actually begin to swell outward as
the water continued to pump into her gut.
        "P-please" she whimpered.
        The man ignored her. It was as if she hadn't spoken. He looked
at the machine attached to the hose, then to her rectum, then to the
machine again. Finally, when she thought she would absolutely explode,
he turned a switch on the machine and it stopped.
        He moved away as another girl, the one she'd seen unloaded,
came sliding through the opening on the end of another hook. Like Lisa
she was a brunette, her hair a tangled, sweating mess, her face red,
body flushed and sweaty. She blinked her eyes in confusion and
groaned, her chin falling to her chest as the hook came to rest.
        The man ignored her, moving to a table and making notes on a
clipboard there.
        Lisa felt her insides throbbing and aching, the water
stretching her bowels to the utmost. The man went to the phone and
talked briefly in a low voice. She could not make out the words. Then
he came back to her and flipped a switch on the machine. The hose
began to suck the water out of her and she felt the ache receding as
she was emptied out.
         After all the water was gone she could feel the vacuuming
pressure of tip of the hose inside her as he moved it around. She
gasped and yelped several times as it sucked at the sensitive flesh
deep inside her. Then it was withdrawn and water poured over her once
again, rising off her hair and body.
        Her legs were unstrapped and allowed to fall back into place
below her, then he gripped her arm and slid her along on the rail,
through his small room and into through another narrow opening that
led into the next.        Another man was there, and another naked
girl hanging from a hook. This one was a blonde, and the two got only
a few second to exchange frightened glances before the man gave the
blonde a push and sent her sliding out of the room into whatever
awaited her next.
         Then he pulled Lisa further into the room. As in the previous
room her legs were lifted up and well apart to expose her groin, then
strapped into that position. The man picked up an electrical barbers
razor and ran it carefully down her abdomen and between her legs,
sheering off her pubic hair in seconds. Then he pulled a machine over
and sat down with his face directly between her legs. He turned on the
machine and picked up a narrow instrument with a sharp little edge and
stabbed it into the soft flesh between her legs.
        She yelped, then yelped again, then again, as sharp little
pains made her jerk and shake. She quickly realized that what she
wasundergoing was electrolyses, that the man was ensuring her pubic
hair would never regrow!
        "Please," she whimpered. "Why am I here? Where am I? Why are
you doing this?"
        He sighed and put down the hose, then walked to a nearby shelf
and lifted up one of several ball-gags sitting there, bringing it back
to her.
        "No! Please! I'll be quiet!" she promised.
        He jammed it into her mouth regardless, and buckled it behind
her head, then sat to continue his work.
        The second brunette slid through the wall behind her and was
allowed to hang there watching and waiting her turn as the man worked
quickly but carefully over her soft flesh, then did the same to her
underarms.
        When that was done he sprayed her down again then sent her
sliding on to the next room. There, mercifully, she was lifted down.
The gag was pulled free, and tossed away, and she was put into a
barber's chair, her arms strapped down as another man in an apron did
her hair with considerable care. He cut it, combed and brushed it and
styled it in a way she'd never imagined.
        When he was done her previously plainly hanging hair glowed
with life and appeared to have the texture of feathery silk. It was
parted in the middle, with thick, shimmering waves spilling down just
to the sides of her narrow face, half covering her cheeks.
        He nodded his satisfaction, then unstrapped her and locked her
arms behind her back before walking her to the next room.
        This room was an odd one indeed. There were a number of men
there, some in flowing Arabic robes, some in business suits, some in
shorts and polo shirts. There were also about a dozen other girls,
all, like Lisa herself, nude.
        A series of thick metal poles protruded from the ground at
regular intervals along the walls, and she was led to one and placed
over it. Then she was held in place as a man pushed down repeatedly on
a pedal set into the floor. The metal pole rose and pushed against her
bare pubic lips, then forced them aside and slipped up inside her,
going higher and higher, until she gasped and rose onto her toes.
        Then the man slipped a chain over her head and dropped it so
that a narrow brass tag hung just below her neck, a tag with a number
on it.        All the other girl were similarly tagged, and all
standing atop poles as the men moved around, chatting casually and
inspecting them. There were several men in dark black uniforms of some
sort who appeared to be in charge of the girls.
       When one of the girls, a petite blonde, cursed a man who
pinched her nipple one of the men moved forward and sternly spoke to
the girl, then his hand went to a small black device at his hip and a
moment later the girl began to tremble and shake frenziedly.
        Lisa was at a loss to understand what was being done to her.
It was only some minutes later when she tried to ask one of the black
clad men what was happening that she learned.
        "You do not speak unless spoken to," he snapped. "Not ever!"
        With that something in her belly burned like fire and Lisa
felt the hair stand up on her head as pain tore into her in waves. It
stopped a few seconds later but left her gasping and shaking with its
memory.
        Then she knew - the poles were electrified!
        She whimpered softly but made no further attempts at speaking
as men moved around and before her, speaking, often in foreign
languages, reaching out and caressing her skin or hair, squeezing her
breasts and running fingers along her straining pubic lips.
         Lisa stood among a row of a half dozen other women, all nude,
all staring in fear. They were the women she had seen in what she
thought of as the exhibition room, and like her, they seemed new to
whatever place this was.
        All seemed to be in their late teens or very early twenties.
All were beautiful, with lush, firm, curvaceous bodies and large, firm
breasts. All had their wrists locked behind their backs by leather
restraints. And all had varying looks of fear on their beautiful
faces. None seemed embarrassed, however, even though several strange
men stood across from them.
        There was little modesty left about nudity, not after having
been leered at and fondled for almost a full day.
        They'd been given little time to sleep, and all were
exhausted, both mentally and physically as the men walked up and down
their rank, slapping riding crops against booted legs.
        An older man came into the room, dressed, as the others were,
in a blue shirt and pants, a kind of uniform she supposed. He looked
them over, then gazed at a clipboard he held for a long moment.
        "Very well," he said, looking up at them. "I'll say this once,
and only once. You are slaves. I realize this might be an astonishing
concept to some of you, but there you have it. You are on an island
protected from intrusion both by us and by a very nicely paid foreign
government. No one is searching for you, for all of you are thought
dead or gone willingly. Even if anyone were to search for you
they'dcertainly have no reason to be looking in this empty little
corner of the third world. So you can leave off fantasies about being
rescued because it won't happen.
        "Now then, you all know what a slave is. You are property, to
be disposed of as your masters choose. If you don't behave
satisfactorily you will be punished. Severely punished. You are here
for sexual purposes, as you may have already suspected. You will do
your level best to please the members of this organization. You will
never, under any circumstances refuse any order of any kind, and will
always comply with a happy, delighted look on your face, eager to
please your master."
         "This can't be happening," she heard a quavering voice say
from the side.
        The man smiled. "It is indeed happening. I should add that
speaking without being spoken to is one of the things which bring
punishment, and now that I have shut up or else. Also, any time you
are addressed you will respond with yes master or no master. Am I
understood?"
        He glared at the women a moment.
        "Am I understood?" he snarled.
        A ragged chorus of women said yes, or yes master and he
slapped his crop against his boot. "Am I understood?" he demanded
again, even louder.
        School memories kicked in and Lisa, along with the other young
women shouted "Yes, master!"
        He nodded and began walking back and forth along their line
again.
        "Don't like the thought of fucking anyone who wants you?
Tough. That's what you're here for. That's the only reason you now
exist. So get used to it. Abandon any thought you have that your body
has any worth, or that you should be choosy about who does anything to
it. Your body belongs to us now. Some of you, of course, are not yet
fit to entertain our members, so you will all be trained. The faster
you learn, the less painful that training will be."        Another of
the men moved forward at his gesture, his face stern, his voice loud
and harsh.
        "Stand up straight, you whores!" he shouted.
        The women all straightened their shoulders fearfully.
        "I am one of your masters," he said. "You will treat me like a
God! My wish is your command! You will leap eagerly to obey my
slightest desire!"
        He walked forward to one end of the line, glaring down at a
trembling red-headed girl.
        "We expect our sluts to stand straight and push their breasts
out. At any time if you are seen to be slouching or not standing
straight you will be rebuked for it!"
        He moved behind the redhead, and his riding crop suddenly
slashed out, cutting through the air and then slashing across her
round buttocks. The girl screamed in pain, leaping forward, twisting
and trying to cup her wounded buttocks.
        "Get back in line!" he screamed at her.
        Sobbing, she hurriedly got back in line and tried to
straighten her shoulders, arching her back so her breasts would push
out.
       He moved along the back of the line, then around in front,
right in front of Lisa.
        "Good morning, Lisa," he said calmly.
        "Good morning, master!" she said, trying to sound eager.
        He passed on and she felt a deep thanks.
        "Good morning, Susan," he said to the blonde girl next to her.
         "G-good m-m-m-orning, master!" the girl whimpered.
         His arm snapped out, the riding crop lashing her breast.
Susan screamed, and Lisa almost did to, staring in horror at the
bright red line of pain that appeared across the girl's round breast
as she staggered back, twisted, and fell to her knees, sobbing.
        "Get back in line!"
        Another of the men gripped her by the hair, yanking her up
brutally, savagely forcing her head so far back it was upside down,
ignoring her scream of pain as he forced her back into position. Only
then did he ease up on his grip and let the sobbing, whimpering girl
stand in place.
        "I did not find your greeting enthusiastic enough," the first
master said. "Now you will apologise, greet me properly, and thank me
for the corrective action I have taken."
        She continued to sob and whimper.
        "Good morning, Susan," he said.
        "Good morning, master!" she exclaimed desperately.
        He waited, then his eyes narrowed.
        "I'm s-sorry, master!" she cried.
        "What else, you filthy, vile little whore?"
        "Th-thank you for correcting me, master!" she gasped.
        "Better. Good morning, Susan," he said.
        "Good morning, master!" she cried again.
        He passed on to the next girl and greeted her by name. Her
reply was quite enthusiastic.
        After going down the line he returned to the first girl, Lisa.
         "Step forward, Lisa," he ordered.
        She quickly moved forward but he halted her, gripping her hair
and yanked it back hard. She cried out in pain as her scalp burned.
         "You will answer when a master gives you an order!" he
shouted into her ear.
        "Yes, master!" she cried.
        He let go and pushed her forward so she was in the middle, in
front of the other girls.
        "On your knees, slut," he ordered.
        "Yes, master," she gasped, thinking, as the other woman had
said, that this surely could not be happening.
        She watched him unzip his trousers and bring out his flaccid
cock and felt a wave of horror and fear.
        "You will perform oral sex on me in front of these other
women. We will see how good you are at it and how much you have yet to
be taught," he said.
        "Y-yes, master!" she gasped, trying to appear eager.
         "Begin."
        As three men and five women watched, Lisa leaned in, fighting
the humiliation she felt, and after only a brief hesitation, slipped
her lips over his cock and began to lick and suck. She took it deep
into her mouth as everyone watched, licking and sucking awkwardly as
he stared down, arms folded across his chest.
        "Lick my balls, you stupid dog!" he snapped. "Take them into
your mouth and work on them! Don't you know anything!?"
        Lisa let his soft cock slip free of her lips, desperately
licking up along his balls, sucking them into her mouth one by one
until he forced her head back by the hair, then flung her back across
the floor. She landed awkwardly, gasping in fear.
        "Useless sow!" he snarled. "We ought to just kill you and not
waste our time!"
       He looked at another of the women. "You, Karen, come here and
take over!" he ordered.
        "Y-yes, master!" she squeaked, hurrying forward and dropping
onto her knees in front of him.
        Lisa started to rise but a hand on her shoulder kept her on
her knees. She watched as Karen licked his balls eagerly, pushing her
face in against his crotch, her tongue whipping out again and again
until his cock started to harden. Then she began to bob up and down on
it, sucking as his hand stroked the hair back from her forehead.
        Suddenly, though, he seized her head in both hands.
        "Of course all of you must learn how to take a man into your
throat," he said. "Every true whore learns it, and every one of you is
a true
whore!" 
       With that he thrust his thick, glistening cock forward, and
Lisa and the others stared in horror as the woman struggled weakly,
watched as her throat bulged and her eyes got wide.
        The man's cock disappeared between her lips and he held her
head in a tight grip, her face crushed against his groin as he stared
at the rest of them with a cruel smile.
        "All of you will learn to take any size cock down your pretty
throats without hesitation," he said as the girl wriggled and twisted
beneath him.
        Finally he eased his cock back, sliding it out of her throat
and mouth, and as it popped free she gasped and coughed, gulping in
air as he held her hair in one hand and used the other to rub his
spit-wet cock all over her red face.
        He flung her back then, as he had Lisa, and pointed at her. 
        "You. Whore! Come here."
        "Yes, master!" Lisa gasped.
        "No! Crawl here! On your belly, you miserable slut!"
         She bent over, grunting as she fell to the floor, wriggling
forward awkwardly, her breasts grinding and rolling beneath her as she
made her way up in front of him.
        "Keep your face on the floor where it belongs, but raise your
behind high and spread your legs," he ordered.
        "Yes, master," she gasped, drawing her knees in under her and
raising her backside high.        Another of the masters walked over
beside him and the two watched her as she made her way up to them.
        "Now I want you to clean this master's boots," he ordered,
"With your tongue. You will continue to clean them until I tell you to
stop. If you stop for any reason you will be severely punished,
instead of being given only a gentle rebuke!"
        "Yes, master," she gulped, staring at the other master's
gleaming boots for a moment.
        In one sense she was appalled, for licking the man's boots was
an intensely degrading act. Yet, oddly, in another way she
wasdelighted, for it was a simple task.
        She began to lick at it, her pink tongue sliding over his
gleaming boot. The first man then moved behind her and she sensed him
dropping to his knees.
        "All of your holes will be used, of course," he said,
"Including this one."
        She felt his cock, wet with pre-cum and Karen's spit, pressing
against her nether hole and her mind blanked momentarily, then she
sagged weakly, almost forgetting to lick as the master forced his cock
slowly down into her rectum.
        How long had it been, that she had been lying on the sofa
watching the television? And now she knelt bound on a floor, licking a
man's boots as another sodomized her, all while others watched.
        His cock pushed deep, and she moaned weakly, her tongue still
licking out, sliding over the man's ankle, then around against his
heel, moving from one boot to the other as the master behind her began
to pump, all the others watching her being sodomized  there on the
floor.
         He pumped for long minutes, often talking, telling them what
whores they were, and how every one of them should be delighted any
man would deign to pay them the slightest attention. Every one of them
was a worthless slut, a piece of woman flesh made for men to enjoy,
and their bodies were the only excuse for their existence.
        After he had finished she was dragged to her feet and pushed
back in line.
        Then they were put through their paces, running around the
room, then unbound so they could crawl around in a line, following one
another, then crawling to the masters, bunched up around their feet
like packs of dogs to lick at their shoes. Any girl unable to push in
close enough quickly felt the bite of the crop against her back or
buttocks.
         Leashes were attached to their collars then and, crawling,
they were led out of the room and down a narrow hall to what the
masters called the feeding room. Their plates and bowls were on the
floor, and they crawled to them and began to eat their morning
breakfast. It was nourishing and tasty, for the masters wanted them to
be healthy looking.
          After breakfast came classes in obedience. Each of these
classes was generally spent impaled on a shorter version of the metal
pole she'd first been introduced to. The poles generated a soft, low
level hum, a buzzing which was disturbingly comforting and made Lisa's
pussy hum with helpless pleasure. But a wrong answer or incorrect
response would quickly shoot a hot blast of agony into her.
        In addition to the electrical shock, each wrong answer brought
a demerit. Ten demerits would require punishment, and none of the
girls wanted to know what the men considered punishment since they
obviously did not mean the frequent blows with riding crops, slaps,
kicks, or the shocks from the electrical probes.
        As luck would have it Lisa was the first to feel
realpunishment. She was led into a small cold room, and two of the
masters pressed her forward against a kind of table. The table seemed
to have the middle part missing at first, and her breasts were allowed
to dangle down as she was strapped in place.
        Then the narrow empty spot began to get narrower, and she felt
the two sides of the table pulling together, sliding in against her
breasts. She gasped, trying to pull up, but couldn't.
        The hole narrowed, and then she began to scream in earnest as
her breasts were crushed, only an inch separating the two leaves of
the table when its movement was halted.
        That was only the beginning, however. One of the masters
pulled her legs far apart and strapped them down, while another moved
beneath the table.
        A metal rod had been behind her, but now one of the men gave
it a touch and it angled sideways, pointing directly at her gaping
sex. The top foot was a studded rubber dildo, and then just below this
was a heavy metal plate with a thin leather coating.
        The thing hissed and eased up slowly, until the dildo lined up
perfectly with her opening, then it slid up into her, slowly, so she
hardly noticed. The pain in her nipples and breasts obscuring any
other sensations.
        It was thick, and her soft pussy walls were spread wide as it
drove higher and deeper. When it was almost fully inside her she felt
the ache inside her as it hit the bottom of her sheath, yet still it
pushed, and the ache grew.
        It drew back, then pushed forward, drew back, then pushed
forward. Again she began to ignore it, even though she knew all the
other women were watching. She was trying to catch her breath, trying
desperately to apologise and beg their forgiveness.
        The thing moved faster, and faster, then deeper still. Finally
it was so deep each time the nose thrust into her it jammed painfully
against her cervix. That was when the master moved to it and adjusted
the plate, sliding it slightly up.
        Again it thrust in hard and she felt a terrible blow, for as
the thick rubber penis buried itself within her body the plate,
slightly curved to match her anatomy, slapped brutally hard into her
groin, crushing her pubic mound.
        Her eyes bulged and she felt a deep nausea and dizziness along
with a horrible pain. She screamed, in shock and agony, but moments
later it thrust back in and again she felt the twin agonies as the
rubber penis slammed into her cervix and the plate slapped brutally up
into her soft, bare mound.
        "We will leave her here for a time," she heard one of the
master's say "Perhaps she'll learn faster after this little
demonstration."        Lisa wanted to beg him not to, wanted to say
anything, but all she could do was scream and howl as each new blow
landed. Pain burned through every fibre of her being as the plate
slapped up into her sex and the dildo pounded into her cervix.
        Again and again the blows came, threatening to drive her
insane as the other girls filed out and the door was shut behind.
        She sobbed hopelessly, wanting to die, screaming now and then,
howling at the top of her lungs. The pain was maddening, and that she
could do not the slightest thing to hinder it was infuriating.
        She screamed in rage, then broke, sobbing, whimpering, gasping
with each new blast of pain, knowing she would surely go insane if it
continued.
        And perhaps, after a time, she did. Somehow her body adjusted
to the brutal raping dildo that was thrusting up into it, and it no
longer seemed to strike her cervix with quite so much energy.
        Or perhaps, she thought dazedly, it had simply driven right
through into her womb.
        Still, there seemed less pain from there. The nausea had
faded, even though the plate continued slap quite hard up into her
sex, jamming her forward each time. Every blow felt almost like a kick
between the legs, and yet she had to take them again and again and
again.
        Her mons felt afire, and terribly sensitive. Yet through the
pain, somehow she felt a strange stirring there, a strange little
thread of sexual heat running through the fabric of pain hammering
against her. It grew, and she seized on it, encouraging it, hoping
desperately it could help hold back the blasts of pain assaulting her.
        She pretended it was a handsome man behind her, a
well-endowed, handsome man rutting into her, his hips slapping against
her.
        The sexual heat grew, small embers igniting something within
her, growing hotter with each passing second. And slowly, ever so
slowly, the burning pain was absorbed into the heat of pleasure, and
without even being aware of it at first the gasps and grunts of pain
became those of sexual arousal.
        As her sex moistened her breasts burned and the pleasure
spread throughout her body. Coated with sweat, gasping, near
senseless, she felt a wall of pleasure rise up around her, then
collapse inwards.
         She shook to the tune of a powerful orgasm, the repeated
blows from the pad merely flinging her higher and higher as the orgasm
burned through her mind and body. For long seconds nothing mattered
but the pleasure, then she tumbled free of the climax and back to
reality, groaning as the plate continued to pound her, the tube
continued to skewer her.
        Yet the pleasure rose again, greater than before, and another
orgasm shook her body, then another, then another, her mind swamped by
contrary sensations of wildfire pleasure and terrible agony.
        Battered and tormented, her thinking processes began to shut
down, and she became little more than an animal, a slab of living meat
there on the table, grunting in tune to whatever sensations moved
through her system.        She slept...
        She wakened in her cell, lying on the cold stone floor, arms
and legs chained wide. Her sex felt raw and swollen and hot, and every
movement made her ache.
        After a time one of the masters came in and looked down at
her. He gazed at her sex, then took his crop and pressed it against
her. She whimpered in pain, but as he began to rub the narrow leather
up and down against her clitoris she felt the sudden explosion of
sexual heat within her, and within seconds she climaxed.
         She resumed her training, desperately eager to please the
masters, to ingratiate herself with them any way possible.
        Often she found herself left alone, though, stranding upright
usually, arms overhead, impaled on a pole with wires clamped to her
breasts and clitoris, blindfolded and unmoving, long hours would pass
in a strange but oddly enticing rhythm.
        First would come pain, usually a cane or crop applied to her
back or buttocks. Several blows would strike her, and almost
immediately thereafter the soft hum would begin, the pole and wires
sendingelectricity into her body in such a way that she vibrated in
response.
         Her clitoris would began to twitch, her pussy to lubricate
and her breasts to swell.
        Modesty had disappeared after the first day, misery after the
second, hate after the third. By the fourth day all she wanted was to
please the masters in order to avoid pain.
        Real pain, that was, the kind that made her howl and shriek
her voice ragged, the kind she had got on the table, the kind she
could get at any time were she to displease the masters.
        By comparison the blows from crops and canes were like soft
stings and hardly important.
        Besides, they were always followed by the most delicious waves
of pleasure, pleasure that grew and grew until she squirmed and moaned
and tried to slide her aching, sopping sex up and down on the metal
pole she was impaled upon.

         Edward gazed at the girl in delight. She was a luscious
morsel indeed. Her naked body gleamed with health, her silky brown
hair soft and shining. She had an hourglass body, with heavy, but firm
breasts and an adorable behind.
        He reached out and squeezed it, and she whimpered, but arched
her back, pushing her buttocks back against his hand. She turned her
head, staring at him anxiously as he slipped his fingers down under
her buttocks and palmed her shaven mound.
        He licked his lips and sighed, then moved back, inspecting the
rack on the wall then taking down a particularly nasty crop.
        He swung it several times and it hissed as it cut through the
air. He shuddered briefly, then turned and looked at the girl again.
She stood straight, arms up and apart, manacled to chains hanging from
the ceiling. Her legs were tightly closed, her back arched, her
buttocks pushed out for him.
        He moved around in front of her and touched the tip of the
crop to her bare little cleft, stroking it back and forth before
letting it slide slowly up her body. He nudged her right breast,
lifting it then letting it fall again. He saw her staring anxiously at
the tip of the crop as it rasped against her nipple.
        "What is your name, slut?" he asked, forcing her chin up with
the crop.
        "Lisa," she stuttered.
        "L-L-Lisa?" he said mockingly. "You've been a very bad little
girl, haven't you, Lisa."
        She stared at him beseechingly, and opened her mouth as if to
deny it, then lowered her eyes submissively. "Yes, master," she
whispered.
        "And how have you been a bad girl?"
        "By - by being a filthy slut, master," she moaned.
         He reached out and cupped one of her deliciously full
breasts, squeezing it, spreading his fingers so the malleable flesh
would ooze out between them.
        "A filthy, cock-hungry little trollop, aren't you?"
         "Yes, master," she gulped. "I'm sorry, master! I'm so sorry!
Please, master I -"
        "Silence!" he snapped, his hand tightening in the flesh of her
breast, squeezing and twisting painfully so she cried out, then shook
with suppressed tears.
        He slid his hand up into her hair, then wound it around his
fist and forced her head back.
        "You've been a filthy, vile little slut," he said. "And I hear
you've been well-raped for your temerity. Now you'll start being
punished."
        "Please," she gasped. "I - I'll do anything!"
        "You certainly will," he said.
        He released her and moved into position behind her. He slid
the crop between her trembling thighs, sawing it edgewise along her
tight cleft, against her pouty lips, then pulled back, drew back his
arm, then lashed out and down. The crop struck directly across her
buttocks with a crack! that echoed off the mahogany walls and was
absorbed by the thick, plush carpeting.
        The girl screamed in pain, but after the initial shock she
pushed her behind back, arching even further. He saw her rise onto the
balls of her feet, thrusting her behind out even more vulnerably as a
red line of pain appeared across her buttocks. He paused a moment to
admire whomever had trained her.
        He slashed the crop down again, harder this time, and she
jerked violently, giving a choked cry of pain. Another blow landed,
and then another, as the Crack! Crack! Crack! of the crop filled the
air with its enticing melody.
        The more he struck the more aroused the girl seemed to become.
As for Edward himself, his erection was almost painful as it thrust
out against his trousers. He landed a dozen blows on her lusciously
soft behind, then tossed the crop aside and hurried back to the rack.
He took down a cat-o-nine-tails and returned, drawing back his arm and
then lashing the whip down across the young woman's back. Her scream
was one of shocked agony as she lost her balance, thrown forward and
off her feet briefly by the impact of the thongs against her soft
skin.
        Streaks of red marred the perfection of her back, then more,
then more again as the cat clawed at her skin again and again.
        He stopped, panting, then bent and raised the cat again,
moving around in front of her. She was perspiring heavily now, her
skin glistening hotly, her hair matted against her forehead.
        Her soft, lovely face was flushed, her eyes filled with pain,
but also a strange need. Tears trickled down her cheeks as he looked
her up and down, then she gasped, swallowed, and arched her back
again, thrusting out her breasts.
         Lisa's mind lay in twisted turmoil, the pain blinding in its
horror, clawing away at her ability to think, burning her alive even
as she trembled in the grip of a pleasure more consuming than any she
had ever felt before in her life.
        It had been hard, those first days and weeks here, but her
thinking processes had been radically altered, her concept of self
blurred, her desires, appetites and emotions violently rearranged.
         She had spent long days of torment as the 'masters' had shown
her her place in life as a slave, then many long hours, days even,
though she had no way of knowing how much time had passed, tightly
bound, blindfolded, voices washing over her as pain and pleasure were
forced upon her again and again. And somehow they had
becomeintertwined, somehow she had become addicted to the pain,
dreading it even as she craved it. For the pain led to a pleasure so
great she would sacrifice her soul for it.
        And as she stood there and saw him through tear-filled,
slitted eyes, she hated him, she loathed and despised him with every
fibre of her being, and she knew without being told what he wanted.
She whimpered within herself, filled with terror of the pain she knew
was yet to come.
          Yet she needed it. She tried to catch her breath against the
agony, then closed her eyes and slowly, weakly, arched her back,
thrusting her proud young breasts up and out at him.
         Edward reached out and ran his hand over one of her breasts,
squeezing it, letting his fingers crush the malleable flesh. Then he
drew back and raised the crop, lashing it directly over one of her
breasts.
        Her head whipped back and she shuddered and gurgled as the
intensity of the pain took the breath from her. Another blow landed,
this time on her other breast, then a third, setting it jiggling and
shaking.
        She gave a choked sob of pain, then her thighs ground together
furiously as an obvious orgasm took hold of her.
        Cursing her, Edward lashed the crop down again and again
across her proud breasts, his arm a blur as her head jerked feebly
back, spasms racking her body.
        He continued whipping her breasts until her shudders eased and
she sagged against the chains holding her, then he cracked the crop
down against her lower chest, then her belly, then her abdomen,
watching her jerk and shake and moan under the blows as stripes
appeared all over her pale white flesh.
       He licked his lips and stepped back, then reached down for her
right ankle. He jerked it up, lifting her leg high, then taking one of
the loose chains hanging from above and fitting the hook into the ring
set into the manacle around her ankle. He then lifted her other ankle
just as high and again fitted the manacle to a hook.
        He stepped back briefly and worked the controls on the wall,
controls that worked how high and far apart each chain was from the
other. With a simple motion he lowered her slightly, then had the two
chains holding her ankles high move further apart and back behind the
ones holding her wrists.
        This tilted her body up and back, lifting her buttocks and
crotch for his enjoyment.
        He moved forward and opened the front of his pants, drawing
forth his blood-engorged organ and staring at her gaping cleft, the
pink flesh inside so lewdly revealed. In a single motion he pushed
himself against her, then thrust in powerfully, drawing a grunt of
pain from the girl as he buried his tool deep in her warmth.
        His hands reached out and crushed her breasts, twisting them
painfully from side to side as he ground his pelvis into her wounded
buttocks. Then with a sneer of contempt he began to pump himself
inside her, building up speed rapidly, using his tool as a weapon,
stabbing it into her again and again with cruel lunging strokes.
        He could not hold out long, for he was simply too aroused.
Nevertheless, the girl climaxed again, her head thrashing wildly as
she sobbed and whined through the powerful climax. Edward felt her
insides clasping and spasming around him even as he rutted down into
her, and cursed her furiously, both proud and angry at her pleasure.
        He felt himself explode, what felt like a massive wave of
juices spewing down his shaft as he emptied himself into her womb.
        He staggered back, glaring at her furiously, then picked up
the crop and raised his arm. It hissed through the air and struck the
dazed girl directly across her bare mound, the blow shocking her and
tearing a scream from her throat.
        She shook violently, her mouth opening and closing like a fish
out of water. "Ooohh... ooohh God," she said with a choked sob.
         His teeth gleamed in satisfaction, and the crop landed again,
directly along her still moist partially open cleft, striking her pink
flesh with a wet sound that was instantly eclipsed by her shriek of
agony.
        His arm rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell, the crop
beating down on her exposed pubic mound as she howled and jerked in
her chains. Then the tenor of her screams changed, and again Edward
felt that curious mixture of pride and anger as she tumbled into
another powerful orgasm.
        He threw down the whip and stormed from the room, grabbing a
towel from a nearby rack and wiping at his face as he did up his
trousers. He made his way down the hall, then took the elevator
upstairs to his suite.
        "Welcome home, master!" his personal slave Bambi said with a
delighted smile.
        She was kneeling before the door, head up, chest thrust out,
legs spread wide to reveal her bare, shaved mound.
        "Get me a drink. I want a shower," he growled.
        "Yes, Master!"
        Bambi had once been Elizabeth, a law student at Harvard
University in America. For two years now, however, she had been Bambi,
a slave-slut, used as a personal servant and slave to whichever master
had the desire for one.        She scurried to obey as he tossed the
towel on the floor then went down the hall to the luxurious bathroom.
He stripped quickly, tossing his things on the floor, then
reconsidered and turned on the bath instead.
        Water gushed into the huge marble tube from four separate
jets, the temperature preset, and he climbed in with a sigh of relief
as Bambi hurried into the room, squatted next to him and handed him a
glass.
         He took it, sipping lightly. He looked up at her beaming
face, then reached out and fingered her lewdly bared slit.
        Her eyes closed and she moaned in pleasure, her crotch
grinding against his fingers as it began to almost instantly moisten.
        It was a wonder to him how they'd made these sluts the way
they were, but he only wished they'd expand and make all the world's
whores behave in the same fashion, especially those snotty bitches
he'd gone to school with.
        "Get me another drink," he ordered, drawing his hand back.
         "Yes, master!" the girl cried, rising and rushing out of the
room.
        He watched and snorted, then sank deeper into the water,
sipping again from his glass.
        This was undoubtedly the most expensive club he'd ever heard
of, but it was more than worth it. The food was excellent, the service
unequalled, and the women, the women behaved as women ought, and every
damned one of them was available for whatever he desired.
        Bambi hurried back and squatted next to him, holding his
glass.         "Set it there, then get in, slut."
        "Yes, master!" she squealed.
        She slipped into the water across from him and he raised his
foot, pressing it against the centre of her chest. She took it in
small hands, for she was a little thing, and pressed her breasts
around it. Then she reached out and bottle of creamy soap from next to
the tub, spraying it over her breasts and his foot.
        She used her breasts on his foot, squeezing and rubbing them
back and forth, then lifting his leg higher still, sliding her heavy
round breasts around his ankle, scrubbing from either side as she bent
over and worked her breasts up to his knee.
       The rest of him was under water and he didn't feel like moving
just yet, so he shoved her back with his foot, then lifted the other.
She repeated her cleaning actions, the smile of delight never leaving
her face.
        He wondered how many times she'd been beaten before she
remembered to keep smiling.
        He pulled his leg away and reached out for her, seizing her
arm and yanking her forward so she fell across him. He brought his
hands back behind his head as he spread his legs apart.
        "Blow me," he ordered.
        "Yes, master!" he said with a wide smile.
        She plunged her head below the water and he smiled. "Stupid
slut," he muttered.        Her lips slipped around his cock and she
sucked it into her mouth, her hands massaging his testicles as she
slurped expertly on his shaft, her tongue whipping up and down in
exceedingly clever and effective ways.
        She raised her head above the water and gulped in air, then
plunged down again, taking him into her mouth and sucking heavily,
bobbing her lips up and down.
        The way women should, he thought.
        For a moment his mind turned back a few months. He was at
Kevin Darnel's party. He hadn't been invited, but he'd come anyway.
He'd had more than a few, annoyed at the way some of the young ladies
were showing less than delight at his propositioning them.
        Then he'd seen her, an absolutely delectable brunette standing
at the stereo and inspecting some disks. She was young, like he liked
them, possibly not even out of high school. He hurried over, wanting
to reach her before she straightened.
        She was wearing a mini, short and tight, and her long legs
drew his eyes like magnets.
        As if she knew he were coming her legs shifted apart slightly.
Oh she knew, all right. The slut. His hand slipped in under her skirt,
up between her warm thighs, and he felt the crotch of her panties
against his palm as he squeezed softly.
        He had a phrase in mind, one he'd been practising in his mind,
one he thought sounded particularly suave and sophisticated. He never
had a chance to utter it, however. The girl in question turned
instantly and her elbow slammed into his belly with such force it
knocked the wind out of him.
        He grunted in stunned agony, clutching his stomach just as she
whirled fully and slammed her knee up into his crotch.
        He'd been hurled backwards, then fallen against a table,
clutching at a large bowl of punch which, as he collapsed, fell over
him. Laughter had erupted throughout the room as he'd curled up on the
floor, soaked, with bits of fruit punch over his face.
        For long minutes he hadn't been able to move until the nausea
went away and he'd got his wind back. By then she was gone, but her
image lived on his mind, and her name. She'd humiliated him in public
out of pure spite, out of vicious female treachery.
        He scowled angrily across the room, then at the top of the
blonde girl's bobbing head. He reached down and grabbed her by the
hair, forcing her down and holding her in place. After a short time he
felt her begin to struggle. Her small hands slapped at his face and
reached up for his wrist.
        He laid back with a cruel smile, holding her easily. Her
struggles grew more desperate, then faded and she went limp.
        He held her for a second longer, then pulled her up by the
hair. She hung limply in front of him as he held her by her soaking,
tangled hair. Then he flung her backwards and she splashed back on her
back, floating there for a moment before he got up and lifted her out
of the water, throwing her roughly onto the floor.
       He pressed a button and sat back in the water. Seconds later
another woman appeared, this one a redhead.
        "Yes, master?" she asked with a wide smile.
        "Have someone remove that offal," he said, "And get in here."
        "Of course, master!" she said, beaming in delight.
        She bent and pressed the button twice, then slipped into the
water, pressing her full breasts against his chest. Seconds later two
more women appeared, picked up the limp body of the blonde, and
carried it out of the room, out of his sight.
        He laid his head back, then frowned as he heard the blonde
coughing. They should have taken her further before working on her, he
thought. He would have to complain.
        He gripped the redhead by the hair and forced her head under
water. Her lips slipped around his cock and he sighed, reaching for
his drink.

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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