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BUSH
SLAVE by Lia Anderssen Copyright
Lia Anderssen Downloaded
from www.silvermoonbooks.com Chapter
1 If it
hadn’t been for the air conditioner breaking down that day, Lisa might never
have fallen under Conrad Lang’s spell, and her life would have been completely
different. Possibly even normal. Certainly she could never have dreamed of
the fate that awaited her that hot June evening as she worked late over her
computer terminal at the Bellco headquarters in London. Lisa had worked for Bellco for nearly
two years now as a computer programmer, and she enjoyed her job. Bellco was
one of the largest arms manufacturers in the western world, exporting its
products to every corner of the globe, and Lisa had been heavily involved in
the design of their database, which held information about all their
customers and products. Now, however, as she worked her way through some
particularly complex program code, she was beginning to feel a little weary,
and a glance at the clock on the wall confirmed to her that it had been a
long day. Seven thirty. It really was getting too
late. She was due at her evening class in less than an hour, and she had
already missed the last two sessions due to pressure of work. But how could
she possibly get home and shower in time? She sighed, pushing the thick
computer listing away from her and sitting back. It was stiflingly hot in the
office, and she felt extremely sticky. There was no way she could go to the
class without freshening up. She rose to her feet and began packing her things
into her briefcase, but already she knew that by the time she had taken the
tube home and had a shower, the lesson would already be half over. Then she paused, a sudden idea striking
her. There was always the executuve washroom. That had a shower in it. Of
course members of staff were not supposed to use it, since it was reserved
for the exclusive use of company directors. But there was nobody about.
Surely it couldn’t do any harm? She hesitated. She hated breaking the
rules. Throughout her life she had always done as she was told. In fact she
took a genuine pleasure in obeying the orders of others. A pleasure that
sometimes went beyond what she knew to be normal behaviour. But in this case
it seemed such a simple thing. After all, who would ever know that she had
used the executive facilities? And she really did want a shower. All at once it seemed simple, and with a
decisive nod of the head she put down her briefcase and headed for the door. Somehow, using the elevator seemed a bad
idea. She had visions of the doorman in the foyer watching as the numbers
that showed on the panel above the lift doors betrayed her movements. So she
chose the stairs. As she pushed open the landing doors she found the passage
in darkness apart from the emergency lighting. She crept up the staircase,
feeling like an interloper in somewhere that she did not belong, a feeling
that increased when she set off down the corridor to where the suite of
executive offices was situated. The floor here was thickly carpeted, the
walls lined with wood panelling that stood in stark contrast to the plain
decor of the offices below. Lisa looked to right and left as she made her way
along, locating the door to the washroom with a sigh of relief and and
pushing it open. She ran her hand up the wall and found a switch which she
pressed, flooding the room with light. The room was large, with full-length
mirrors all about the walls and expensive looking fittings on the row of
sinks. Strictly speaking it was a men’s bathroom, though the urinals were
situated in a separate section, divided from the part she was in by a
swinging door so that all she was confronted with was the washing facilities.
On the other side of the room, though, was the shower, behind another of the
swing doors, and it was toward this that she headed. She found herself in a small changing
room. This was devoid of furniture except for yet another huge mirror and a
low bench set against one wall. Once again she hesitated, still slightly
intimidated by where she was. She thought of the executives, who she seldom
ever saw, yet to whom this place was dedicated. Yet what harm could it do to
simply use their shower? She took a deep breath, then gave a little shrug and
began to strip. She was dressed for summer, in a short
skirt that zipped up the back. She pulled the zip down in a single movement
and let the dress fall from her shoulders, stepping out of it and placing it
on the bench. Underneath she wore a plain white bra and panties. Reaching
behind, she undid the catch of the bra and let it slide down her arms. Then
she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulled them off. Naked, she paused to examine herself in
the mirror. Lisa was a stunningly beautiful young woman, and had been told as
much on a number of occasions, though the compliment always embarrassed her.
She was small in stature, no more than five foot four inches tall, with a
slim figure that was perfectly proportioned. Her breasts were the shape of
ripe oranges, firm and round with no hint of sagging. Her nipples were like
circular buttons that protruded enticingly when they were hard. Below, her
body tapered to a slim waist before curving out again to her hips. Her belly
was flat, her pubic hairs forming a small dark triangle beneath which thick
sex lips were visible. Her long legs were beautifully shaped, with narrow
ankles and small, neat feet. She raised her head to stare into her
own eyes. They were green and radiated a childlike innocence from beneath long
lashes. He hair was dark and wavy, hanging down to her shoulders and framing
a face with a fine bone structure and small, kissable lips. Lisa was quite
simply gorgeous and was capable of turning heads wherever she went. She turned away from the mirror and
pulled open the door of the shower cubicle. Stepping inside she switched on
the tap and a warm spray sprang from the nozzle. She moved beneath it
gratefully, closing her eyes and revelling in the freshness of the water as
it splashed onto her body. There was a piece of soap in the rack
and she began to wash herself with it, rubbing it into a lather between her
hands then massaging it into her body. The warmth of the water felt wonderful
and she raised her face to the spray, feeling her weariness wash from her
along with the suds. For a while she completely forgot who she was or where,
happy just to enjoy the refreshing sensation of the shower. When at last she had had enough she
turned off the tap and stepped out from the steamy atmosphere of the cubicle
into the changing room, feeling renewed and invigorated. It was only then
that she realised she had a problem. There was no towel. Anxiously she checked every inch of the
room, but in vain. There was nothing with which to dry herself. She cursed
her stupidity at not having checked beforehand. Her body, she knew, would
soon dry. But her hair was soaking, and it would be ages before she would be
able to dress with it in such a state. In desperation she tried wringing it
out, but without success. Then she remembered the storeroom. It
was situated at the end of the corridor on the executive floor and only the
week before she had been asked to get something from it. At the time she had
noticed that they stored the roller towels there that were used throughout
the lower floors. She would simply have to use one of those. She let herself out of the changing room
and into the area where the sinks were. As she crossed the room she was
confronted by her reflection on all sides. The sight of her wet and naked body
made her hesitate. Despite the fact that she was certain the building was
empty, it still seemed an outrageous act to walk about the corridors with
nothing on. She opened the bathroom door a crack and
peered through. Outside it was as silent and empty as when she had arrived.
With a guilty glance about her she slipped out and padded off up the
corridor. The store room was further away than she
had remembered, and she had to walk down two more passageways before she
finally found it. When she did she reached for the handle gratefully and
turned it. The door did not move. It was locked.
Once more Lisa cursed her ill fortune as she realised she was foiled again.
She pushed the door, but it was no good. There was no way in. With a sigh she
turned and began to retrace her steps. Then a light went on ahead of her. Lisa froze, her heart almost stopping
with the shock of the realisation that there was someone there, possibly just
around the next corner. At first she couldn’t believe it, but the sight of a
second light coming on confirmed her worst fears. Someone had arrived on the
floor since she had left the bathroom, and they were heading in her
direction! Lisa suddenly felt very vulnerable
indeed. She was not even supposed to be on this floor of the building. To be
discovered here naked was more than she could bear. She could hear footsteps
now, and they were coming closer every second. There was a door to her right and she
grabbed the handle and turned it. The door opened and she slipped through,
closing it behind her as quietly as she was able. Looking about her she found
herself in one of the large executive offices. It was quite dark inside, the
only light coming through the outside window. On the far side of the room was
a wide desk on which stood a computer terminal. Beside it was a large cabinet
close to the corner. There was a small gap between it and the wall, and Lisa
scurried across to this niche, squeezing herself into it. No sooner had she
done so than the door opened and the room was flooded with light. She shrank
back against the wall as she heard somebody enter the office. The footsteps crossed the room, then
there was the creak of a chair, followed by a click and the rattle of the
computer disk as the machine started up. Lisa stayed where she was, cursing
her ill-luck at choosing precisely the wrong office in which to conceal
herself. Minutes passed, during which the
familiar beeps of a personal computer booting up were the only sounds. Then
came the noise of fingers tapping on the keyboard. This went on for some
time. Every now and again a man’s voice would swear, then the tapping would
begin again. Lisa remained with her back pressed against the wall, wondering
how long she would be forced to remain where she was. At last, though, after she had listened
for what seemed ages to the obvious lack of success of the man at the
keyboard, curiosity got the better of her. She leaned forward and peered out
from her hiding place. There, sitting with his back to her and staring at the
computer screen, was a dark figure, strumming his fingers on the desk. Afterwards, when Lisa analysed the
situation in her mind, she realised that even then she might have got away
with it. It was obvious that the man was losing patience with the computer
and would surely have left soon. She could easily had remained where she was
until he had gone. But then, all of a sudden, she needed to
sneeze. She held her breath, praying that it
would pass, but the tickle in her nose increased until she could hold it back
no longer. When it erupted she slammed her hand
over her mouth, reducing the explosion to little more than a cough. But it
was enough. “Who’s there?” She shrank back further into her corner,
her heart beating fast. She heard him rise from his chair and cross to the
cabinet. He opened it, then closed it again. Then he peered round the side. At once Lisa hugged her breasts, her
other hand placed flat over her crotch as she stared back at him. “What the hell are you doing in here?” Lisa recognised him at once. His name
was Conrad Lang, and he was the company’s sales director. He was tall, with
dark hair and a strikingly handsome face, tanned by numerous visits to sunny
climes. “Answer me,” he ordered. “I.., I’m sorry, Sir,” she stammered. “I
was taking a shower.” “In my office?” “There was no towel Sir. I was looking
for one. Then I heard you, so I hid in here.” “But you’re naked.” “My clothes are in the bathroom Sir.” Which bathroom?” She lowered her eyes. “The executive
bathroom, Sir.” He frowned. “Well young lady, you’d
better come out of there.” He stood back whilst Lisa slid out of
her hiding place. Her face was bright red as she stepped into the room, her
hands still covering her nudity. The man returned to his chair, settling
into it and swivelling it around to face her as she stood trembling before
him. “Now tell me, who are you? “My name is Lisa Carling Sir.” “What are you doing in this building?” “I work in the Data Processing
department Sir. I’m a computer programmer.” “Then what on earth are you doing up
here?” “I wanted a shower. It’s so hot with the
air conditioning broken.” “But the shower is in the executive
washroom. That’s for directors only.” “I know. I’m sorry Sir. I thought there
was nobody about.” “That’s no excuse.” “I know. I’m sorry,” she repeated
lamely. “Naturally I shall have to report this.
It’s a serious offence. Who’s your supervisor?” “Miss Larkin, Sir.” “And what will she say when I tell her I
found you naked in my office?” Lisa couldn’t imagine what Miss Larkin
would say. A spinster in her early fifties, she was a strict disciplinarian
and something of a prude. Only the day before she had berated one of Lisa’s
colleagues for reading a tabloid newspaper during his lunch hour that
contained photographs of topless girls. What she would think of Lisa’s
actions was hard to imagine. It was doubtful that she would be allowed to
keep her job. “Well?” “I think she’d sack me Sir.” “Precisely and...” he broke off
suddenly, staring at her. “What did you say your job was?” “I’m a computer programmer Sir.” “Then you’ll know how to get into this
damned system.” “Which one?” she asked, confused. “The weapons design system. The one that
holds the plans for the design of our products.” “Don’t you have a password?” “No. I’m supposed to, but someone’s
screwed up.” “I’m not allowed to issue passwords
Sir.” “Nevertheless, you can get into the
system, can’t you?” “I’m not supposed...” “Listen Miss Carling,” he said. “You’re
already in enough trouble. I would remind you I’m a director of this company.
I can dismiss you myself if necessary. Now, are you going to help me?” Lisa sighed. She really had no choice,
and she knew it. Her position was impossible. Here she was, stark naked,
having just been caught in a part of the company where she knew she shouldn’t
be. The man held all the cards. “I can get you in Sir,” she said
quietly. He pushed back his chair and indicated
the screen. “Go on then.” “Couldn’t I go and get my clothes please
Sir?” “No. I want access to that system now.” Reluctantly Lisa moved round behind the
desk. She stared down at the keyboard, her hands still covering her body. “Come on.” Blushing brightly, Lisa lowered her
hands, exposing her luscious body to the man. As she did so she hung her
head. Lang had no way of knowing it, but no man had ever seen her naked
before that moment, and she was doubly embarrassed by the fact that he made
no pretence of his interest, his eyes roving over her breasts and sex. What would become of her now, she
wondered. Chapter
2 Lisa
Carling was a solitary girl, with no real close friends. She had never known
her parents, who had died when she was a child, leaving her to be brought up
in a series of children’s homes. There she had been a quiet, withdrawn girl,
and had made little impact on either those who taught her, or her companions
in the homes. But at the age of sixteen a slightly awkward child had suddenly
blossomed into an extraordinarily beautiful young woman, though at first she
had been barely aware of the fact. Something else happened to her as well.
Something that was ultimately to change her life completely. It happened soon
after she turned eighteen and went to live in a hostel for young women. Lisa was forced to discover her
sexuality. It had all taken place late one evening.
At the time Lisa was at college, studying computers, and had been up late
completing a homework assignment. She had been on her way from the bathroom
to her bedroom when she had heard a commotion coming from one of the other
girls’ rooms. She had paused outside for a second, and just at that fateful
moment, the door had opened and a girl had come out. On seeing Lisa she had
stopped short, an indignant expression on her face. “What the hell are you doing here?” she
demanded. The girl’s name was Angela. Lisa
recognised her as a worker at the local factory. She was a tall girl, with
coarse manners, and Lisa had scarcely exchanged a word with her since she had
entered the hostel. Now, as she confronted the woman, she found herself at a
loss for words. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I was just
passing.” “Spying more like.” “No. I was on my way to bed. Honestly!” Then why had you stopped?” “No reason. I just heard the voices
and...” “Come in here, you nosey bitch.” “No I...” “Come in, I said!” Lisa was given no choice. Suddenly she
was grasped roughly by the arm and pulled inside. The room was thick with
cigarette smoke, and two empty wine bottles stood on the bedside table. Both
smoking and drinking were forbidden in the hostel, and Lisa realised at once
that she had stumbled on an illegal party. Besides Angela there were two
other women in the room. Lisa knew them only by name. Trudy was a loud woman
with large breasts and a propensity for lewd jokes. The third one, known as
Dot, was rumoured to be a prostitute, though Lisa had never actually seen her
with a man. “What the hell’s going on, Angela?”
asked Trudy. “I caught this little bitch listening at
the door.” “Oh, her. Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes,”
snorted Dot. “Going to turn us in, were you darling?” “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...” “Shut up,” barked Angela. “Bitch is
probably a spy for the warden.” She grabbed Lisa by the hair. “Isn’t that
right?” “No. Please I...” “I said quiet!” Angela tugged at her
hair again. “What do you think girls?” “I think this little spy deserves
teaching a lesson,” said Trudy. Lisa looked from one to the other of the
three women. She was shaking slightly as she stared from face to face. She wished
that she had gone straight back to bed. It was clear to her now that she
would have to undergo some kind of ordeal at the women’s hands before that
would be allowed. “What about the belt?” said Angela. “Do
you reckon she’s ever had her arse tanned?” “I doubt it,” said Dot. “Let’s take a
look. Strip her.” Lisa tried to back away, but Angela was
just behind her, and grabbed her by the arms. “Get that nightie off.” All Lisa wore was a nightgown. A modest
garment that fastened up to her neck and hung down to her knees. Now Dot took
hold of it and simply pulled it over her head, tossing it to one side. Lisa blushed crimson as she stood naked
before the three women, who hooted with laughter at her discomfort. “Scared to flash your tits and cunt are
you?” said Dot. “Mind you, they’re nice ones. You ever
been fucked darling?” asked Angela. Lisa shook her head. “Little bitch is a virgin,” said Trudy. “So’s her arse by the look of it,”
replied Angela. “I think a taste of leather is what’s called for here. Get
her on the bed.” They grabbed Lisa’s arms and pulled her
up onto the bed, making her kneel and face the wall. Then a piece of rope was
produced. Lisa tried to struggle free when she saw it, but they held her down
whilst Angela tied her wrists together and secured them to the bars at the
end of the bed. Lisa was left, on her knees, naked and helpless before the
three of them. “Lift up your backside,” ordered Angela.
“Let’s get a good look at you.” Lisa hesitated. Then, seeing the look in
Angela’s eye, shuffled backwards onto all fours, raising her behind to the
watching trio as she did so. She felt a hand on the bare flesh of her behind,
giving a little start as she did so. “Spread your knees apart,” ordered
Angela. “Let’s see that little virgin cunt of yours.” Scarlet with shame, Lisa did as she was
told, presenting what she knew to be a perfect view of her sex and anus to
the onlookers. The hand on her backside stroked the tight flesh. “This’ll look better with a few stripes
across it,” said Trudy, and the others laughed their agreement. Trudy crossed to a wardrobe by the door
and took something from it. She carried it across and held it under the
hapless Lisa’s nose. It was a leather belt, no more than an inch thick. She
doubled it over and swished it through the air a couple of times. “What do you think girls?” she said.
“Six strokes?” “Make it ten,” said Angela. “I want to
see the hoity-toity little bitch squirm.” “Please...” said Lisa softly. “Quiet you,” ordered Dot. “One more word
and we up it to twenty. And don’t scream either, or we’ll have to gag you.” Lisa closed her mouth. It was obvious
that pleading with them would have no effect. They were determined to have
their fun, and they needed a victim. But did they really have to strip her
naked? And tie her in such a degrading way? She looked round at the three of
them. They were all grinning broadly, clearly enjoying what they were
watching. Lisa’s colour deepened and she turned to face the wall. Trudy raised the belt. Thwack! She brought it down across Lisa’s
backside with tremendous force, the blow stinging the tethered girl terribly
as the hard leather bit into her tender young flesh. Lisa gritted her teeth,
her eyes firmly closed. Thwack! Down came the belt again, delivering
another stripe across Lisa’s behind and sending another shock of pain through
her helpless body. Thwack! It fell for a third time, this time
wrapping about her bottom cheeks, the end delivering an excruciating blow to
her thigh. Lisa bit her lip hard, trying desperately not to cry out as the
cruel blows rained down on her. Thwack! Trudy’s accuracy was deadly, each stroke
finding a new area of virgin flesh and planting a burning weal across it. A
sweat had broken out on Lisa’s body now, and each lash with the belt raised a
small spray of wetness. Thwack! “Ah!” This time Lisa had been quite unable to
suppress a cry, since the blow had been delivered vertically, and the end had
wrapped itself round and slapped hard against the lips of her sex, making her
jab her hips forward. Her flesh stung dreadfully with the blow. But it had another effect as well. Suddenly Lisa realised that the
throbbing between her legs was not exclusively caused by the pain. The blow
had aroused something else inside her; something she wouldn’t have believed
possible. Even as she awaited the next stroke from
the belt, Lisa felt her clitoris harden as a sudden spasm of lust ran through
her, bringing an unexpected wetness to her vagina. It took her completely by
surprise. She had never experienced anything like it before, but she knew at
once what it was, and it shocked her deeply. She was becoming sexually aroused. Thwack! This time, when the blow fell, it had a
totally different effect on her. It stung, certainly. In fact the pain was
abominable, but compared to the lust that was rising within her, it seemed
paltry. Thwack! “Oh!” Lisa’s love bud was fairly throbbing now
as her juices flowed freely. All of a sudden the beating stopped. “Well I’ll be damned,” said Trudy. “What?” “Look at her cunt. The little slut’s
getting a thrill out of this.” “What?” “Here, let me check,” said Angela. She
reached forward and thrust two fingers into Lisa’s vagina. “Ahhh!” The cry that escaped Lisa’s lips this
time could not possibly be mistaken for one of pain. There was no doubting
the lust in her tone, nor the way her hips thrust downwards onto Angela’s
fingers as she attempted to pleasure herself on them, little whimpers coming
from her as she did so. “My god, you’re right,” said Angela
wonderingly. “She’s like a bitch on heat. Just look at my fingers.” She held them up, and all could see how
they glistened with moisture. Dot laughed. “Shit, I never saw a dame
get horny from a thrashing,” she chuckled. “Finish it off, Trudy, I wanna
watch this.” Thwack! The belt fell across Lisa’s backside for
the eighth time, then the woman stood back to watch Lisa’s hips pumping back
and forth against the empty air, the lips of her sex expanding and contracting,
as if wrapped round an invisible cock. Thwack! Lisa’s backside was red now, the stripes
merging together into an angry mass of pain. Yet she seemed barely to notice
the belt now, her entire body undulating back and forth whilst moans escaped
from her lips. Thwack! The final blow descended with all the
force of the first, the crack of leather against bare flesh echoing about the
room. Then there was silence, broken only by the panting of the naked girl
and the creaking of the bed springs as she continued to thrust her hips back
and forth. Angela reached beneath her and caressed
her breast. The nipple was already rock hard and Lisa’s moans doubled in
volume as the woman massaged the soft flesh. “Shit, we’ve got to bring this little
slut off,” she said. “You still got that dildo, Trudy?” “Sure. It’s in that drawer. Lisa watched with trepidation as Angela
went to the drawer and opened it. The woman withdrew something long and pink.
Something Lisa did not recognise. Angela brought it over and held it under
her nose. The young captive’s eyes widened when
she saw what it was, It was a perfect model of a man’s penis, complete in
every detail, the rough surface bulging with veins, “That’s right, little virgin,” said
Angela. “That’s what a cock looks like.” She turned a knob at the base and the
object began to hum quietly. Then she held it against Lisa’s cheek, so that
the girl could feel the vibrations that ran through it. It was an
extraordinary sensation, and when she moved it down to rub against Lisa’s
nipples, the young captive gave a sudden gasp of pleasure. Angela ran the humming phallus over
Lisa’s body, sliding it down her stomach then bringing it round to her back.
She rubbed it against the burning flesh of her behind, tracing out the cruel
stripes thereon. Then she found the crack of her backside, moving it ever
lower towards her still undulating sex lips. “Ahhh!” Once again Lisa was quite unable to
suppress a cry of pleasure as the dildo slid down her slit and found her
swollen clitoris. Never before had she been touched so intimately, and the
sensation made her begin thrusting her hips forward once more as her lust was
renewed. It was as if her cunt had become the centre of her being. Suddenly Lisa realised that she wanted
the dildo inside her desperately. It was a sensation she had never felt
before. A primeval animal lust that seemed to have taken over from all her
other instincts. Whimpering quietly, she pressed back urgently with her
behind, urging Angela to penetrate her. “Christ the slut wants it bad,”
exclaimed Dot. “She’s positively panting for it.” “Yeah,” put in Lucy. “Give it to her
Angela.” With a shudder Lisa felt the bulbous end
of the imitation cock seek out the entrance to her vagina. Then Angela began
to press, twisting it as she did so. There was a moment of resistance and a
sudden pain. Then it was in, sliding deep inside her, pressing all the way
home until she felt it come up against the deepest part of her vagina. It was the most extraordinary
sensation imaginable to Lisa, the thick object humming inside her, causing a
sudden gush of love juice into her hole as she cried out with the sheer
pleasure of it. Her hips were pumping back and forth with vigour now, so that
Angela had simply to hold onto the end of the knob whilst her own actions
forced it to slide in and out. Lisa knew she must make a sight, naked
and tethered, her striped backside high in the air as she fucked the dildo
with all the strength she could muster. Beneath her she could feel her breasts
shaking back and forth with every jab of her hips, and she knew the three
women were amused by her arousal. But she was beyond caring now, simply lost
in the exquisite sensation of penetration and, whilst she had never before
experienced orgasm, she knew instinctively that something wonderful was about
to happen. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” Her cries rang through the room as the
glorious relief of a climax swept over her. She closed her eyes tight, her
entire being consumed by the pleasure the dildo was giving her. The orgasm
went on and on, her cries gradually dying to moans as she came down from her
high. At last, though, she was spent,
collapsing forward onto the bed and burying her head in the pillow, suddenly
overcome with the shame of what the three women had witnessed. “Well,” said Angela, dragging the now
dripping dildo from inside her. “You’re a proper little dark horse, aren’t
you young lady?” Chapter
3 The
extraordinary encounter with the three women had happened two years ago, and
Lisa had left the hostel soon afterwards, unable to face the other women once
word of her exploits had got round. She had moved into a small bedsit where
she could live alone, and complete her studies, and was now a qualified
computer programmer with a good job. But she had never forgotten that evening
with the three women. She would lie in bed at night, turning it over in her
mind, trying to make sense of what had happened and the recalcitrant way in
which her body had behaved. Then would come the dreams, vivid images
in which large, broad-chested men would strip her, tie her to a tree and whip
her whilst a cheering crowd looked on. Or others where she would find herself
stark naked amongst a group of fully-clad strangers and would expose her body
shamelessly to them. Such dreams would inevitably end with her waking up
suddenly, her sex running with moisture. She would slide her hand down
between her legs and seek out her love bud, feeling it harden as the memory
of the nudity, the beating and what had followed filled her mind. But then
she would withdraw her fingers, afraid of the power of her sensuality, and of
the behaviour it might invoke. And since that day she had been careful
to steer clear of men, keeping them at arms length, refusing any contact and
earning for herself the reputation of being a prude. Until tonight, that was. Standing as she was, naked and helpless
before this powerful man, the memories of those erotic dreams suddenly
flooded back, and with a shock she realised that with the recollection was also
returning the sense of arousal. She couldn’t fully understand why it was that
being in this man’s power gave her such a thrill. All she knew was the aching
sensation in her sex as his eyes took her in. “Come on, then,” he ordered. “The
computer.” Lisa shook her head, as if awakening
from a reverie. She turned to the machine. There was no chair, so she was
forced to lean forward over the desk in order to use the keyboard. This
served to emphasise the shape of her breasts and she was aware of the way they
shook with every keystroke. She tried hard to concentrate on the visual
display unit in front of her and to blot from her mind the sight she knew she
was making to him. The weapons planning system was
protected by a sophisticated password system, but this posed no problem to
Lisa, who knew it well. In no time she had the main menu up on the screen in
front of her. Lang sat close to her, barking commands as she steered her way
through the system. Soon she had accessed some of the more complex weapons plans. “Print them,” he said. She tapped in the appropriate codes. His
closeness was having an effect on her, the smell of his expensive aftershave
filling her nostrils and increasing the desires that were welling up inside
her. When he leant forward to study the screen and casually placed his hand
on her backside a tremor ran through her whole body and she sensed her
nipples hardening despite the fact that she hadn’t even been touched there. The printer began to whirr and he
momentarily left her side, crossing to the machine and picking up the sheets
as they came off. Lisa remained where she was, not daring to move, her heart
thumping against her chest. “This isn’t the one,” he said. “Try the
next. And do hurry, girl. We don’t have all night.” Lisa turned her attention back to the
keyboard, her fingers flying over the keys. He moved close again and his hand
reached for her breast. “Oh!” The touch was so unexpected and so
intimate that she gave an exclamation, her concentration momentarily broken. “Your nipples are hard,” he remarked,
taking the knob of flesh between his fingers. “Why is that?” “I... I don’t know.” “In my experience of women, hard nipples
mean she’s either cold or turned on. It’s not cold in here, is it?” She reddened. “No Sir,” she said
quietly. “Where’s that data then?” he said,
suddenly seeming to lose interest in her body. Lisa hurriedly typed out the appropriate
code, trying to shut from her mind the exquisite sensation as he casually
fondled her breast. The required files appeared on the screen and once more
she was ordered to print them. This time he seemed more satisfied with the
output. He spread the papers out on his desk and pulled up his chair. Then he
began to study them closely. Lisa stood beside him, her hands dangling at her
side, waiting for orders. The nipple he had been caressing was positively
tingling and she longed to touch it herself, but dared not. Instead she
simply remained where she was, a thrill running through her every time he
raised his eyes from the document and let them rove over her body. Suddenly he spoke again. “There seem to be a couple of formulae
missing from these papers. Come here and see.” Lisa approached him and looked
questioningly at the sheets before her. “Look here,” he said, pointing to one of
the sheets in the centre of the desk. Lisa leaned forward, suddenly aware once
again of the way this made her breasts more prominent. Her nipples were still
erect, the hard little protrusions in stark contrast to the whiteness of her
flesh. She studied the area to which he was
pointing. “That’s an encryption code Sir,” she said. “Some parts of these
documents have a secondary protection on them, a sort of double safety
device.” “You mean I can’t see all the data?” “Not without the right security code.” “Do you have such a code?” “No Sir.” “Can you get one?” “But you’re a director Sir. Surely
you...” “Never mind that. I asked if you could
get one.” “I’m not supposed to Sir.” “Nevertheless you know this system. Can
you get hold of one?” “Not from here.” “What do you mean?” “Security is controlled from the main
terminal in the computer room. And that’s locked.” “But you can get in there during the
day?” “Yes Sir.” “Good. Lie forward over the desk.” “I beg your pardon?” “I think the order was simple enough.
Lie forward over the desk.” Lisa hesitated for a second, then
complied, leaning forward and prostrating herself over the desk’s surface.
The wood felt hard and cold against her bare skin and she shivered slightly
as she lay her cheek against it. “Open your legs.” Once again the order took her by
surprise, but this time the shiver was one of excitement as she spread her
thighs apart, aware that in doing so she was opening the pink folds of her
sex to his gaze. She gave a little start as she felt him
grasp the cheeks of her backside, forcing them apart and revealing the small
dark star of her anus. “Do you have a boyfriend, Miss Carling?”
he asked. “N-no Sir.” You have a lovely body. Do you usually
show it off so blatantly?” Lisa closed her eyes. “No Sir. I.., Ah!” A cry escaped her lips as he slid his
fingers around and ran them down her slit. “Look at this.” She craned her neck around. He was
holding up his hand for her to see. His fingers were shiny with moisture. “It’s giving you a kick, isn’t it?” Lisa didn’t answer. “It seems to me that you have two
choices, Miss Carling.” His fingers were back at her sex, and she felt her
whole body lurch as he found her clitoris. “Would you like to hear them?” “Y-yes please Sir.” She was panting
slightly now, her hips beginning to writhe as he toyed with her love bud. “Either I report your behaviour tonight
to Miss Larkin. And believe me I’d have to tell her every detail, including
how you reacted just now. Or you can co-operate with me. What do you think?” “I’ll...” Lisa broke off as a spasm of
pleasure ran through her, making her gasp. “I’ll do whatever you say, Sir.” “Good. Stand up.” He took his hand from her sex. Slowly
she rose to her feet. She looked down at the desk. Her body had left a mark
where she had been lying, the round globes of her breasts clearly outlined.
What was more embarrassing to her, though, was the pool of moisture where her
crotch had been. She dropped her eyes and realised with a shock that there
were drops of wetness on her inner thighs. He moved close to her, taking her chin
in his hand and pulling her face up to stare into his eyes. His other hand
dropped to her breast, kneading it between his fingers. “I need someone to assist me, Miss
Carling,” he said. “Someone I can trust to be discreet. Someone who can get
me the information I require. Do you understand?” “I think so Sir.” “There is information I require from the
system. Information that must be obtained covertly.” “But surely, as a director, you have
access to any information you require?” “Not necessarily. Some data is kept
secret even from me. But this is something different.” “Sir?” “We believe somebody is tampering with the
data. Someone very senior indeed. Only the Chairman and I are aware of this
sabotage. We need to be able to get the data and pass it on to some experts
without anyone else in the company knowing. That’s why we need someone who
understands the system. Do you think you could do it?” “I think so Sir.” “Good. This is very important to your
career. Co-operate with me and you will go far. Do you follow?” “Yes Sir.” Suddenly a faint smile came to his lips. “There are other duties I’ll be calling
on you for as well, Miss Carling.” He said. “Duties of a more personal
nature.” “Sir?” “This body of yours. I shall expect you
to use it to entertain some of those experts.” “Entertain them Sir?” “Exactly. These are very important men
and it’s vital that we keep them happy. And, being men, they naturally have
their desires. Do you understand me?” “But I..,” she made as if to protest,
then gazed down at her nakedness and her voice trailed away. “Yes Sir,” she
said meekly. Lisa couldn’t believe what he was asking.
What was more she couldn’t believe her own reaction. On hearing his demands a
spasm of excitement had shaken her small frame, and she felt another drop of
moisture escape onto her thigh as her sex lips convulsed momentarily. “Good. Now some of these experts will be
visiting in the next couple of weeks. There is some information I need you to
get for them. We will discuss your other duties later. Meanwhile you should
expect some instructions in the next few days. Is that clear?” “Yes Sir.” “Right. And now, Miss Carling, I intend
to fuck you.” The words were spoken casually, as if he
was suggesting something perfectly ordinary. Yet the effect they had on Lisa
was electric, and a gasp escaped her lips as his grip tightened on her
breast. She was astounded at her own reaction. She knew she should object,
show outrage even. But she was too far gone for that now. It was then that the revelation hit her.
For the first time she realised how she craved a man who would dominate her.
A man who would force her to disport herself naked before him, who would
manoeuvre her and touch her as casually as he would some domestic animal, and
who would demand her submission without a thought for her own consent. Lang
was just such a man “On the desk. On your back this time.” Lisa’s reaction was almost eager. She
turned her back to the desk, and pressing her backside against the edge,
leaned backward, prostrating her body before him, her breasts flattening
slightly and falling to the sides as she did so, leaving her gazing down at
him through a valley of soft flesh. She didn’t wait to be asked to spread her
legs, opening them wide so that the lips parted for him, allowing him to see
into the entrance to her vagina. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his
cock. Lisa stared in fascination at it. She wondered what he would say if he
knew it was her first. It was larger than she had expected, thick and
swollen, the end purple and shiny with lubrication. As she watched he took
the shaft in his fist and worked the foreskin back and forth a few times. She
wriggled her backside forward so that it projected slightly over the edge of
the desk. Then she waited, her sex lips still twitching slightly. “Ahhh!” When the end of his knob touched her
love bud she almost shouted with lust. She wanted him badly now, so badly
that she lifted her backside up and thrust her cunt at him, willing him to
penetrate her. He moved his glans up and down her slit,
coating the tip with her juices. Then he positioned it at the entrance to her
love hole and began to press. “Oh!” Suddenly her lips parted and he was
inside her. Just the tip at first, but as he pressed harder, his cock slid
deeper and deeper. She gasped at the sensation, spreading her legs still
wider in order to accommodate him. Then, just as she felt she could take no
more, she felt the hardness of his zipper pressing against her pubis. He started to fuck her, his movements
smooth and even as he worked his cock in and out. Lisa writhed and moaned
beneath him, her whole body alive with pleasure. She had had no idea it could
be like this. The dildo had been fantastic, but the feel of a real live
throbbing cock in her vagina was something else. She gazed at her ravisher.
He was standing, looking down on her, his face expressionless, his hands gripping
her thighs as he pumped his hips back and forth. It was as if she was no more
than an inflatable doll. A toy to give him relief from his needs, rather than
the hot-blooded young nymph that she was. Would it have made him feel any
different if he knew he was deflowering her? She thought not, nor did she
care. This was how she wanted to be taken, without emotion or tender words.
Simply fucked for the pleasure of it. He increased the force of his thrusts
and she whimpered softly, raising her hips and pressing back at him, her
breasts shaking back and forth with every stroke. Inside her she could feel
her orgasm building, but she wanted to hold back and wait for him, to witness
a male climax for the very first time. Her sex lips were convulsing uncontrollably
now and she could feel the juices leaking round the side of his rampant
weapon and flowing down her legs. All at once a glazed look came over his
face and she felt his body stiffen. Instinctively she knew he was about to ejaculate
and she tightened the muscles inside her sex. He came with a hoarse grunt, and
suddenly Lisa’s vagina was filling with semen. The sensation was incredible,
spurt after spurt of thick, hot fluid gushing into her and triggering her own
orgasm almost at once. Lisa’s cries echoed about the room as
her climax overcame her. Her head shook from side to side, her backside
banging down against the surface of the desk as she abandoned herself to the
passion of her lust. She had never imagined fucking could be as good as this,
and she wondered momentarily why she had avoided it for so long. Even as she
came, thought of the liaisons Lang had planned for her with his guests
flashed through her mind, taking her to new heights as they did so. Suddenly he withdrew, and she gave a cry
of disappointment, gazing pleadingly at him as he tucked his cock back into
his trousers. He gave a little frown, and then stuck two fingers crudely into
her vagina. She groaned with gratitude, her writhing hips pressing down on his
hand and wringing the last ounces of pleasure from his coarse digits. Gradually she came down, the gyrations
of her crotch decreasing as the passion ebbed from her. At last she was
still, her breasts rising and falling as she struggled to regain her breath.
He paused for a moment, then grasped her arm and pulled her into a sitting
position. Lisa felt a mess, her body shiny with
sweat, her hair hanging in lank strands, her thighs splattered with semen.
She gazed up at Lang wearily as he placed his fingers up to her face. They
were running with his spunk. “Lick them clean,” he ordered. She leant forward, taking them into her
mouth and sucking at them. The taste of his seed was alien to her, as was the
taste of her own desires, but she swallowed it down hungrily, licking the
remnants from her lips. When his hand was clean he yanked her to her feet,
then indicated the desk, where a pool of wetness had formed and was trickling
down the wood. “Clean that too.” Lisa dropped to her knees, licking from
the bottom of the desk upwards, swallowing down yet more of his come, working
feverishly until her tongue had removed every trace. Then she rose to her
feet and stood before him, hands held at her side, a picture of naked
submission. “Good,” he said. “You will be hearing
from me soon. Now get out of here, and don’t trespass on this floor again
without permission. Is that clear?” “Yes Sir.” Lisa turned and walked toward the door,
slipping through and closing it carefully behind her. She made her way back
to the washroom as if in a dream, oblivious to the sight she must make. When
she re-entered the changing room her clothes were just where she had left
them. But she ignored them. Instead she lay down on the hard wooden bench and
spread her legs. Then, for the first time in her life,
Lisa Carling began to masturbate. Chapter
4 For
the following week Lisa moved almost as if in a dream. No matter what she
did, she couldn’t rid her mind of the incident with Lang. At first her
reaction was one of disgust with herself and contempt for his behaviour. She
told herself that her response to the director had been a freak, and that
nice girls like her simply didn’t behave like that. But the longer it took
for him to contact her, the more she found herself wondering whether she
would ever hear from him again. Before long the incident was dominating her
thoughts, and every morning she would scan her doorstep for mail, as she
would her pigeon hole at work. But in vain. She tried to rationalise her emotions,
telling herself that she was being stupid, and that no normal girl would have
subjected herself to the humiliations he had heaped on her. But every time
she was alone the memories came flooding back and the wetness returned to her
crotch. Then she would be forced to slide her hand down between he legs and
bring herself relief, an action which would fill her with shame the moment
her orgasm had subsided. At the same time she knew her work was
suffering. On more than one occasion she had incurred the wrath of Miss
Larkin for being inattentive, something that had never happened before. The
thought of Conrad Lang was becoming an obsession with her, and there seemed
nothing she could do about it. It was almost two weeks later that the
note appeared on her doormat. It bore no address or stamp, and had been
delivered during the day whilst she was at work. She found herself shaking as
she picked it up and studied it. It was in a plain brown envelope that simply
bore the word ‘Carling’ on the outside. She carried it into the kitchen and
slit it open with a knife. The note was typewritten and unsigned. She read it
carefully. ‘You are to obtain the encrypted
information on the M271 and L360. You will receive further instructions on
delivery tomorrow. Destroy this note.’ She turned the paper over. That was it.
There was nothing else. She wasn’t sure whether to be excited or
disappointed. It wasn’t exactly what she had expected, but it was, at least,
a development, and it meant that Lang had been serious when he had disclosed
his intention to use her further. She lit the gas stove and burned the note.
Then, picking up her briefcase, she headed for the front door again. She had no difficulty obtaining the
information he had asked for. She had taken the trouble some days before to
obtain a key to the computer room and, with the rest of the staff having gone
home for the night, it was easy to gain access to it. Employing her computer
skills, it took only a short time to discover the passwords required to the
encryption system, and shortly afterwards the data she needed was spewing
from the printer. She studied the pages as they came off, wondering what it
was about them that was suspect. Then, realising that the formulae they
contained was beyond her understanding, she simply clipped them together.
Within half an hour of arriving back at work she was tucking the papers into
her briefcase and heading home once more. That night Lisa could hardly eat a
thing, and the following day she found it more difficult than ever to
concentrate on her work. Her stomach was churning with excitement and she
couldn’t help consulting her watch every few minutes. The day seemed endless,
the program on which she was working suddenly trivial, and she barely wrote
twenty lines of code before the hands on her watch finally crawled around to
five-thirty and she felt free to pick up her bags and hurry for the train
home. When she arrived at her flat she hardly
dared open the door for fear of an anticlimax. Gingerly she inserted the key
in the lock and turned it, almost unwilling to look down as she pushed the
door open. She need not have worried, though, for there on the mat she found
a large envelope. Like the previous one it was completely unmarked apart from
her surname printed in block capitals. She picked it up at once and tore it
open with trembling fingers. Inside was a smaller package and another typed
sheet. The message was, once again, a short one. ‘You are to wear the clothes in this package
and nothing else. A car will collect you at seven fifteen. Bring the papers.’ She read it through twice before burning
it. Then she picked up the package and headed for the bedroom. An hour later she was standing before
the mirror contemplating her reflection with dismay. The words in the note
had been quite clear. She was to wear the clothes in the package and nothing
else. Yet, as she studied the reflection that confronted her, her heart sank.
How could she possibly dare to go out like this? Her eyes travelled down her
body, an expression of anguish on her face. The parcel had contained a pair of black
hold-up stockings, an apron and a pair of impossibly high stiletto heels. And that was all. She had turned it inside out, searching
for something else, but without success. The discovery had appalled her. How
could she possibly leave the house dressed in those? It was more than could
be asked of any decent girl. She could have wept with the ignominy of her
position. Even a simple pair of panties would have been something. But that
was all there was. Reluctantly she had donned the garments.
The stockings came up to about six inches below her crotch, the high heels
making her legs look even longer and more slender than usual. The apron was
like that of a parlour maid, with a pair of strings that tied behind her neck
and two more at the waist. Its tunic was small and square and quite
inadequate to contain her breasts; brown half-moons of her aureoles showing
on either side and a valley of cleavage at the top. Its skirt too was tiny,
like a small bib that scarcely reached her crotch. When she turned sideways
the slightest movement revealed her breasts and pubic thatch, and from behind
she was, to all intents and purposes, entirely nude, the full contours of her
pert backside completely uncovered. She trembled slightly as she regarded
herself. She even felt embarrassed wearing the outfit in the privacy of her
bedroom. She could scarcely contemplate going out in this state of undress.
Yet, at the same time, that odd, unaccountable thrill had come back, as she
had known it would, and she couldn’t help running her finger down between her
legs and toying briefly with her clitoris. The ring of the doorbell made her jump,
and she snatched her hand away from her crotch guiltily, almost as if she had
been caught in the act of masturbating. She stood, rooted to the spot, still
staring at herself in the mirror. For a moment she almost lost her nerve.
Then she thought of Lang’s cruel features and she knew she had to obey. She
picked up the sheaf of papers that lay on the table, and with one last vain
effort to tuck her breasts into the tiny tunic, she went to the door. “Blimey!” The taxi driver was a large,
heavily-built man wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Two days of stubble grew on
his chin. He eyed his prospective passenger with undisguised interest, his
eyes wide. Lisa felt her cheeks glow red under his scrutiny. “Haven’t you got a coat or something?”
he asked with a grin. She shook her head, her eyes still downcast. “Well I guess we’d better go, then,
although I recommend you avoid any draughts,” Stepping into the road in front of the
house was yet another ordeal. Two youths lounging on the corner spotted her
immediately and their wolf whistles rang out as she tried hard to walk in the
tiny apron without exposing her breasts and sex. The cab driver walked behind
her, his perfect view of her backside bringing a broad grin to his face. It was a minicab, and Lisa was obliged
to stoop low to climb inside, so that the apron hung down away from her body,
leaving nothing to the onlookers’ imagination. Once she had settled, the
plastic of the seat feeling hard and uncomfortable against her behind, the
driver paused, peering down the front of the tunic at her protruding nipples,
the grin still fixed on his face. Then he slammed her door and climbed into
the driving seat. Lisa stared out of the window at the two
youths, who had by now approached the car and were making lewd gestures to
her through the window. For a moment she feared that they might reach inside
and grope her vulnerable body. Then, with a sigh of relief, she heard the
driver engage gear with a crunch and the car lurched forward, carrying the
hapless girl off to new ordeals, the nature of which were beyond her wildest
dreams. Or nightmares. Chapter
5 The
journey was a long one. Lisa sat in the back of the cab, saying nothing,
thankful that the cabbie kept his silence, restricting himself to the
occasional sly glance in the mirror at his scantily clad passenger. When, at
last, the car drew to a halt outside a large, important looking house in one
of the more salubrious residential areas of the city, the driver turned in
his seat. “This is the place, darling,” he said.
“Time to get out.” Lisa fumbled with the doorhandle, but by
the time she had mastered it he was out of the car and standing beside it.
Once again it was an awkward and embarrassing struggle to clamber out of the
vehicle, and by the time she had done so there was no part of her anatomy that
hadn’t come under his leering gaze. The cabbie was determined to get his
money’s worth though, and when at last she had straightened and patted the
apron into position he pointed to her papers, still lying on the seat beside
where she had been sitting. Lisa was then obliged to bend back into the car
and give him a further delightful view of her bare behind as she picked them
up. At the same time she felt him grasp the smooth flesh of her backside in
his large, rough hand. His index finger pressed against her anus. By the time
she was upright again she was very flustered indeed. He grinned at her, his hand still
caressing her behind. “Good luck in there,” he said. “Any time
you want fucking by a real man, give me a call.” Then he gave her a wink and climbed back
into his cab, before disappearing down the street in a cloud of exhaust
fumes. Lisa stood, staring after him,
forgetting for a moment her exposed position as she tried to calm her nerves.
She turned to look at the house. It was a modern two-storey building with a
wide, sweeping drive. She pushed the gate open, stepped through, and then
made her way up to the door, glancing over her shoulder as awareness of her
near-nudity returned. She pressed the doorbell. From within
she heard footsteps approaching and for a second her instincts made her want
to turn and run. But run where? She couldn’t possibly be seen in public as
she was, and even if she found another cab, how would she pay for it? There
was nothing for it but to stand where she was, her heart pounding in her
chest as she waited for the door to open. In a way that she couldn’t possibly
understand at the time, this was Lisa’s last opportunity to escape the
dreadful fate that awaited her as a result of her encounter with Lang. Had
she turned and run away at that moment, she would have faced no more than the
ignominy of an indecent exposure charge. In waiting for the door to open, she
set in motion a series of events that would end in her taking on a new role
in life as a slave, a slut and a whore. “What on earth?” The woman who opened
the door made no secret of her surprise and distaste as she surveyed the
barely clad youngster in front of her. She was a large woman in early middle
age. For a second it struck Lisa as amusing that the only similarity between
the two of them was that both were wearing aprons. Though the woman’s, she
reflected bitterly, was of a far more practical design than hers. “Are you the new waitress then?” the
woman demanded in a harsh voice. “I-I’m not sure,” stammered Lisa. “I was
told to come here.” “What, dressed like that?” She dropped her gaze. “Yes.” “Well I suppose you’d better come inside
then before somebody sees you. Though what the boys will think I’ve no idea.” She stood aside and allowed Lisa to
enter, closing the door behind her. Then she led her down a long hallway to a
room at the end. It was a kitchen, with a large table in
the centre. Laid out upon the table were cutlery and crockery. A pot was
steaming on the stove, being stirred by a young man about her own age. His
jaw dropped when he saw her, as did the spoon into the pot. “Don’t stare, young man,” snapped the
woman. “There’s work to do here, and we have to be out in five minutes.” As she spoke a second man of a similar
age to the first entered carrying a vase of flowers. He too stopped in
astonishment at the sight before him. “Come on,” said the woman impatiently,
“get those in the dining room and lay the table.” Obediently the man headed for the other
door, almost colliding with the doorpost as he stole a last look at Lisa. “Thank goodness I don’t have to put up
with your sort too often,” sniffed the woman. “Now, come with me and I’ll
show you what’s to be done.” Obediently Lisa followed her through to
the dining room. The table was large, and set for three people. “This is the dining room,” the woman
said unnecessarily. “The meal is due to start at eight precisely. The wine is
in the chiller and there are spirits and liqueurs in the cabinet there.” She showed Lisa about the house, and
slowly the girl began to understand the extent of her duties. She was to act
as waitress and maid to the men, serving a three course meal which the woman
and her helpers had already prepared. As to what was to follow, she could
only imagine what would be required of her. The woman finished her tour and began to
pack her bags, with the assistance of her two helpers. The pair of them were
unable to tear their eyes from the blushing girl, who stood in the corner of
the kitchen wishing they would leave. At last they were ready and, collecting
their bags together, they headed for the door, the woman casting a final
disdainful look at Lisa before closing it behind her. Lisa was relieved to be alone at last,
even though she knew it would not be for long. She found a mirror and checked
her appearance, patting her hair into place and straightening her stockings,
trying once again to conceal her breasts inside the inadequate top. Then all
she could do was wait. She dare not sit down, for fear of the chair leaving a
mark on her bottom. With so much of her body on display she wanted her skin
to appear flawless. So instead she wandered through the rooms, making minute
adjustments to the ornaments and pictures in an attempt to keep her mind
occupied. The ringing of the doorbell made her
jump, and at once her heart began beating hard as she realised that the main
part of the evening was about to begin. She took a final look into the
mirror, trying for the umpteenth time to cover her breasts. She then headed
for the front door. There were three of them, all much older
than her, probably in their mid-forties. Immediately facing her was a thin
and cunning looking man with dark, evil eyes that darted about him. “My name is Bulcher,” he said in a low
voice. “I believe you are expecting me and my companions. Lisa eyed the companions. One was short
and balding, with something of a paunch. The second was taller, heavily built
with a wide, muscular chest. Like Bulcher, both had tanned skin, indicating
that they came from a tropical country. When they spoke their voices held an
accent Lisa couldn’t place. All eyed their hostess appreciatively as she
opened the door for them. Lisa showed them into a drawing room,
where a tray of drinks had been prepared. She served the drinks in silence
whilst the men spoke together in a language she didn’t understand. When finished, she made to leave, but
the weasel faced man grasped her arm. “I believe you have some papers for us?” “Oh. Yes Sir. I’ll get them.” In her confusion and embarrassment Lisa
had almost forgotten the chief purpose of their visit. She hurried to the
kitchen where she had left the sheaf of papers, returning with them and handing
them to Bulcher. Once again she turned to go, and once again he stopped her. She froze, staring questioningly at him.
He said nothing. He simply placed a hand on the bare flesh of her flank, and
then ran it down over her hip and reached behind to squeeze her backside.
Lisa remained motionless all the while, not trusting herself to move or to
speak as he felt her soft skin. Her breath shortened, however, when he
brought his hand round and under her apron, his fingers sliding through her
pubic hairs, and then on to the lips of her sex itself. Lisa gasped as he found her clitoris and
ran his finger about it. It was as hard as a nut, and she knew he would
notice this, as well as the warm moistness that had invaded her crotch.
Indeed, when he removed his hand, he held it up for the others to see the
moisture, and they nodded approvingly. “You may go,” Bulcher said suddenly, and
turned his back on her, spreading the plans out on a side table. Lisa returned gratefully to the kitchen.
There she busied herself ladling the soup into bowls before loading them onto
a tray and carrying them through to the table. Once the steaming dishes were
placed, she struck a gong that stood beside the door and retired to a corner
to watch as the men came in. For the next hour Lisa was fully
occupied in serving the meal, dashing back and forth from the dining room to
the kitchen carrying trays of food and crockery. The men worked her hard,
barking orders at her and taking advantage when she had her hands full,
caressing and squeezing her breasts and backside and making her flesh tingle
with their ministrations. At last the meal was complete, and she
handed round the brandy and cigars before carrying back the last of the
plates. She sat down on a stool in the kitchen, grateful for the chance to
rest. It wasn’t long, though, before she was summoned back to the dining
room. They made her stand in the centre of the
room, then all turned their chairs around to face her. Lisa felt suddenly
very alone, and she glanced from face to face with some apprehension. “What is your name?” asked Bulcher, who
had dominated the dinner conversation and appeared to be the senior member of
the trio. “Lisa, Sir.” “Well Lisa. I presume you are aware that
we expect your duties to extend beyond simply serving our meal.” Lisa felt a sinking sensation in the pit
of her stomach. “Yes Sir,” she said quietly. “Good. Take off your apron.” Lisa hesitated. The apron wasn’t much,
but it was at least some concession to modesty. Without it her situation would
be completely unambiguous. Then she saw the impatience in Bulcher’s eyes and,
her fingers trembling slightly, she reached behind her back and grasped the
ends of the tie that circled her waist. She pulled, and the bow came undone,
the cords dropping down to her sides. She looked up at the three men, then
took hold of the apron and pulled it over her head. For a moment she held it
against her body, taking comfort from the minimal cover it gave her. Then the
thin-faced man caught her eye again and, her face red, she tossed the garment
aside and let her hands drop to her sides. Behind the men was a mirror, and Lisa
studied her reflection. She still wore the high heels and hold-up stockings,
but these, of course, hid nothing. In fact they seemed somehow to enhance her
nudity, drawing attention to her bare crotch, where even now she could detect
a hint of the wetness that coated her outer lips. Letting her eyes travel up
to her breasts she noted that her nipples too were betraying her arousal,
hardened into solid brown nuts that rose and fell with her breathing. “Come here.” Slowly Lisa moved forward, her mind
whirling. On the one hand she felt repulsed by the trio of strangers who sat
before her, forcing her to abandon her modesty in this fashion. Yet her body
was alive with arousal, the very treatment that repulsed her sending thrill
after thrill through her lovely young frame as she approached the men. She stopped just in front of Bulcher,
planting her feet about fifteen inches apart and once again allowing her
hands to fall to her sides, leaving her body open and unprotected. He
stretched out a hand and placed it on her inner thigh, making her jump as if
an electric shock had passed through her. He began to move his hand, letting
it drift up the silky flesh, his touch sending a shudder through her. Every
movement brought him closer to the centre of her desire, and she felt her
breath shorten as his fingers drifted higher. “Oh!” His hand had only brushed against her
sex, but the effect had been extraordinary. Her outer lips twitched violently
at the contact. She saw the man smile at his two companions, who returned the
look. Lisa closed her eyes, ashamed of the blatancy of her desires. The man slid a finger along the length
of her slit, bringing a new shudder of pleasure to her slight frame. She knew
her sex was swollen now, and that her clitoris was visible between the
glistening pink lips. She knew too that she should stop what he was doing and
hide her nakedness. But she couldn’t. Her body simply wouldn’t allow her to,
and instead she found herself thrusting her hips forward at him, bending her
knees slightly and offering him her open cunt in a lewd gesture of desire. “Ahhh!” Suddenly the man slipped two fingers
into her and she felt her knees go weak, until she thought she might collapse
onto the floor. It was only with the utmost willpower that she steadied
herself. His fingers probed her deeply, making odd slurping sounds as her
juices flowed over them. Lisa found herself breathing hard, suddenly more
turned on than she dared admit. It was all she could do not to come then and
there, such was her arousal. “You like that, don’t you Lisa?” he said
softly. She was too embarrassed to speak. “Ah!” She gave a cry, half of pain, half
of lust as he suddenly rammed his fingers hard into her. “Don’t you?” he asked, his voice
insistent. “Y-yes, Sir.” “Now you must give us pleasure. Do you
understand?” “Yes Sir.” “My colleague has need of your services.
Look, Lisa.” Lisa realised that her eyes were tightly
shut. She opened them now, and saw with a shock that the stocky, balding man
was on his feet. He had taken his cock out of his trousers and was
masturbating as he watched her. She looked questioningly at her tormentor,
and he nodded. Lisa turned, giving a slight cry of
disappointment as she felt Bulcher’s fingers slip from within her. She stood
hesitantly in front of the masturbating man, her eyes looking questioningly
into his. “On your knees.” Obediently Lisa dropped to a kneeling
position just in front of him. At once he grasped hold of her hair and, still
working his foreskin back and forth, guided his cock toward her mouth. Lisa
resisted for a moment. She had never had a penis in her mouth before, and the
idea had always disgusted her. Somehow, though, in her current state of
arousal, she found herself strangely attracted to the notion. All at once she
had the urge to taste his rampant rod, and as he pulled her head forward she
opened her mouth for it. She took him inside, and closed her lips
about his thick shaft. The smell and taste of his organ were like nothing she
had previously experienced. They had an oddly primeval effect on the wanton
young girl, actually increasing her excitement. She brushed his hand away and
wrapped her own about his erection, dragging the foreskin back and forth in
the same way he had been doing. She was rewarded by a sudden twitch and a
gasp from the man. She began to suck greedily on his penis,
her other hand reaching up and cupping his balls, which seemed to have a life
of their own, the sac expanding and contracting as she worked him. So intent
was she on fellating him that she momentarily forgot the presence of the
other two men in the room. Not for long, though. All at once she
felt hands wrap about her body and grasp hold of her breasts. “Get up on all fours,” someone hissed. It was the tall, muscular man. He had
hardly spoken since their arrival, being apparently content simply to watch
and listen whilst she had served them. Now, though, he evidently wanted her,
and as she obeyed his command, moving her body back and raising her behind,
she gave a gasp of pleasure at the sensation of his hand closing over her
sex. He found her clitoris, teasing it out
from between her thick nether lips and running the rough tip of his finger
over it, causing yet more convulsions inside her vagina as a delicious
sensation coursed through her body. She pressed herself back against his hand
whilst her own hands and mouth continued to pleasure the balding man in front
of her. When she felt the hard, swollen tip of
his knob press against her, she wanted to cry aloud with excitement, but the
sound was muffled by the mouthful of cock on which she was sucking so
enthusiastically. Her backside quivered as he placed his manhood at the very
portals of her pleasure hole and pushed. He slid easily into her; her wetness saw
to that. Lisa wanted to turn and watch; to catch
a glimpse of the meaty shaft that was violating her so freely. But the man in
front of her was jabbing his hips against her face now, his urgency
increasing with every stroke and she knew she must give him all the attention
she could. She did manage to glance out of the
corner of her eye at the mirror though, and what she saw added new impetus to
her desires. There she was, looking pink and exposed amidst the men in suits,
crouched like a dog on the floor, her mouth and sex filled with cock. Both
men were thrusting hard against her and her body rocked back and forth with
every stroke, her breasts swinging free beneath her. It was the most
extraordinarily erotic thing she had ever seen, and she stared at her
reflection, scarcely able to believe that the naked young wanton she was
watching was herself. Her attention was drawn back by a loud
grunt from the man whose member she was sucking. At that moment she felt his
body stiffen, then the first jet of semen suddenly unleashed itself from the
end of his cock. The ejaculation took her by surprise and
she drew back instinctively so that the next spurt caught her full in the
face. The man grabbed her hair and yanked her face forward onto him once
again and she found herself sucking hard and gulping down the hot, viscous
fluid that filled her mouth. He seemed to come and come, the semen
escaping from her lips and dribbling down her chin as she struggled to
swallow it all. The spurts were becoming less frequent now, but still every
twitch of his manhood sent a fresh helping into the back of her throat. And
all the time the man behind was pounding his hips against her, shaking her small
frame with every thrust as his motions became more frenzied. Then, all of a sudden, he was coming
too, his spunk squirting into the deepest recesses of her vagina in great
gobs. The sensation was too much for Lisa, and her entire body shook as a
violent orgasm swept through it. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washed
over her as she let herself go, allowing the cock in her mouth to slip free
again as she screamed aloud with the release of her climax. Lisa’s orgasm was long and loud. Her
body thrashed about uncontrollably whilst the man behind her continued to
pump his sperm into her love hole, each spurt sending her into new paroxysms
of lustful joy. Everything around her was forgotten in that moment, her
entire being taken up with the pleasure his cock was giving her. It was as if
she had been born for this, and shudder after shudder ran through her small
body as she came and came. At last, though, the violence of his
motions began to decrease, and she sensed his ardour was spent. She stayed as
she was, her hips still moving back and forth, her tongue licking the last
dregs from her first ravisher’s tool whilst the man behind her finally slowed
to a stop. Only then did he withdraw, his cock making a wet sound as it slid
from within her. Lisa collapsed onto the carpet, quite
exhausted. She gazed up at the three of them. The two who had had her were
looking slightly sheepish now as they tucked their cocks back into their
trousers, but the thin-faced man was still watching her with interest as she
writhed about on the floor, her face and thighs splattered with sperm. “Get the bitch up on the table,” he
barked to his companions suddenly. The other two acted at once. Grabbing
the astonished girl by the arms, they pulled her to her feet and frogmarched
her across to the dining table, scattering the crockery and cutlery as they
shoved her onto it on her back. Before she knew what was happening she found
her wrists being bound with cords and secured to the table legs on the far
side. More cords were produced and her ankles were bound in a similar manner,
leaving her spreadeagled and helpless across the cold, hard wood. It all
happened so fast that she scarcely had time to think before she realised the
vulnerability of her position, her limbs spread taut, her sex open and
unprotected. The thin faced man sauntered over to
her, gazing down at her trapped body, a faint smile on his face. “That’s better,” he said. “Now you
really are in my power. How does it feel, slut?” Lisa, staring fearfully at him, didn’t
answer. Her mind was in a whirl. What had she let herself in for? For the
first time she saw the cruelty in the man’s eyes, and she trembled under his
fearsome gaze. She tried to struggle, but the bonds held her still, biting
into her wrists and ankles. She was held fast, and entirely at Bulcher’s
mercy. He crossed to the fireplace and took a
poker from the hearth. He returned and stood between her wide open thighs,
holding the weapon in one hand and slapping it against his other palm. Lisa
shuffled uncomfortably under his gaze as his eyes seemed to bore into her
flesh. When he took the end of the poker in his hand and stretched out his
arm, a tremor of fear shook her whole body. The handle of the poker was made of heavy
brass, and depicted some kind of figurine in an elaborate carving. It was
about an inch in diameter and seven inches long, and when Lisa saw where he
was placing it she bit her lip and tensed herself. The brass felt very cold as it pressed
up against her sex lips. Lisa’s first instinct was to close her legs and keep
it out, but she was quite unable to do so due to the way her legs were tied.
Instead, all she could do was raise her head and watch in horror as the thick
metallic object invaded her most private place. “Ah!” The exclamation escaped her lips as she
felt the poker penetrate her; the cold, hard metal unwelcome after the
vibrant warmth of the cock that had been inside her only minutes before. And
yet, despite the unfriendliness of the object, she felt her sex contract
about it and a gasp escaped her lips as the man began to move it back and
forth. He smiled again, although there was no
humour in his eyes. “I see that even this cold object can
arouse your desires,” he said. “Although, how you’ll react when it’s heated
up a bit will be more amusing. First of all though, I think a whipping is in
order. A little slut like you needs whipping to bring her into line.” Lisa stared at him, realising for the
first time that his intentions went well beyond simply fucking her. This was
clearly a man whose pleasures came from cruelty. She struggled vainly in her
bonds as he began to remove his jacket, the cold smile still spread across
his features. Then, all of a sudden there was a loud
banging on the door, and a loud voice shouted: “Security Police! Open this door!” Chapter
6 At
the sound of the banging, the three men all froze and stared at each other. “What the hell...” “Where did they come from?” “Quick. We’ve got to get out.” “You fucking little slut!” Bulcher’s
expression had contorted into a snarl as he dropped the poker and moved
forward, grabbing Lisa by the hair. “You set us up!” He pulled a stiletto
knife from his pocket and held it against the soft flesh of her breast. “No! I didn’t! You must believe me!” “Then who the hell did?” There was a crash from the direction of
the front door. “Come on, Bulcher!” shouted one of the
men. “There’s no time for that! Leave the bitch!” Bulcher hesitated. A second crash
sounded, accompanied by the splintering of wood. Clearly someone was knocking
the door down. “I’ll see you suffer for this,” he
hissed at the frightened girl. “We’ll meet again, make no mistake.” He remained where he was for a second,
his eyes gleaming with malice. Then he withdrew the knife. From where the
point had been pressing against her breast a tiny bead of blood bubbled up
and trickled down her creamy white skin. Then they were gone, slipping
silently out of the room and leaving Lisa alone. Crash! The door finally gave way with a noise
that echoed about the house. Once again Lisa fought against her bonds,
desperate not to be discovered as she was. But her wrists and ankles had been
tied by experts, and there was no escape. The door to the dining room crashed open
and two men ran in. They were both dressed in dark blue uniforms, with white
crash helmets on their heads. They both carried thick truncheons. They
glanced about, scarcely registering the naked girl, then dashed out through
the door the three men had gone through a short time earlier. The next few minutes were pandemonium,
with uniformed men running in and out of the room and a good deal of shouting
taking place between them. From the garden Lisa heard voices calling out and the
sound of a car starting up. An engine was gunned, and then there was squeal
of tyres. The two security men ran back into the
room. “They had a getaway car out the back,
dammit!” shouted one of them. “Quick, get after them!” More running feet. More engines
starting. Then silence. For a few seconds Lisa thought she had
been left alone, and wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned, since
she had no way of escaping from her bonds. Then the door swung open and two
more men entered. These two were dressed in plain clothes, both wearing long
grey raincoats. Both were tall and muscular. One had the face of a pugilist,
with a heavy brow and broken nose. The other was quite pale, with a long scar
running down one cheek. They strode across to the table and stared down at
the girl. Lisa wondered at the sight she must
make, stretched out before them, naked but for her dark stockings, her sex
still penetrated by the thick poker handle. Sperm ran from her sex and over
her thighs, more was splattered on her face and hair. There could be no
doubting what she had been doing. “Miss Carling, I presume?” Lisa was shocked to discover that they
knew her name. She stared at them. “My, what a dance you’ve been leading
us,” the man went on. “Fortunately someone remembered seeing you getting into
that cab. Mind you, it’s scarcely surprising he remembered, if what he said
about the way you were dressed was true. Now, where are the papers?” “Papers..?” “Don’t play games with me, Miss Carling.
It took us a while to discover it was you that hacked into the computer
yesterday and accessed the encrypted information. Fortunately the machine has
its own monitoring software, and we soon had it down to three suspects. The
other two had alibis. From what I’ve seen this evening, I’m prepared to bet
you haven’t.” “I-I don’t know what you’re talking
about. I...” Her voice trailed off as she realised
that the second man was holding something up for her to see. It was the papers. Clearly the three men had left in such a
hurry that they had forgotten to take them. And now here they were, the most
damning evidence possible. She stared dumbly at the two men. “Right Miss Carling,” the man spoke
again. “We want to know precisely who the men were that you met tonight.” “I don’t know who they were.” The man scowled. “Don’t play
games with us, Miss Carling. Just give us the names.” “But I tell you I don’t know.” At this point they were distracted as
two of the uniformed men entered the room. Lisa recognised them as the two
who had entered the house first of all. Then they had barely glanced at her,
but now they took a good deal more interest, their eyes fixed on her open
crotch and the ugly metal tool that protruded from it. “What news?!” barked scarface. “Bastards gave our guys the slip. Seems
they were well prepared Mr Dawson.” “The mystery is that they left the
papers behind,” replied the scarfaced man, now identified to Lisa as Dawson.
“I think this little slut must have proved too much of a distraction.” “She’d distract anyone,” grinned the
guard. “Gorgeous pair of tits on her.” Lisa averted her gaze. “Do you think you
could untie me please?” she asked quietly. The exposure before the men was
getting too much for her now, and she longed to have the poker removed from
her vagina. “You’ll stay there until I’m ready to
release you,” replied Dawson. “Well could you at least cover me?” “If you start co-operating, then maybe
I’ll think about it. Now who were those men?” “I don’t know. I swear I don’t.” “Then how did you contact them?” “I didn’t. I was told to just come here
with the papers.” “What, almost naked? That cab driver’s
eyes were popping out of their sockets.” She reddened. “I was told to come like
that. I had to deliver the papers, then serve the meal.” “And then let those bastards fuck you
rigid?” Lisa said nothing. “All right then. If you were told to
come, who sent you?” “I can’t tell you.” “Because it was all your own doing.” “No.” Dawson turned to the two guards. “It seems we’ll have to be a little more
persuasive,” he said. “Turn her over and fetch my stick.” The two guards exchanged grins, then set
to work undoing Lisa’s bonds, untying the ropes that held her ankles, then
her wrists. But there was to be no respite for the unfortunate girl. The
moment she was free she found herself hoisted to the floor, the poker sliding
from her sex and clattering to the ground. Then they turned her to face the
table and bent her forward over it, so that her upper body was pressed hard
against the surface. At once they set to work with the rope again, one man
securing her ankles to the table legs whilst the other pulled her arms across
the table, tying her wrists together then yanking the end of the rope down to
secure it below the level of the table top. Once again Lisa was helpless, this time
with her backside protruding over the edge of the table and her legs trapped
wide apart. She tried not to imagine how she must look in such a position,
her sex lips spread wide, the spunk still leaking from inside her and
trickling down her leg. She watched in trepidation as one of the
guards left the room. Two minutes later he was back, bearing a
thin bamboo cane. He passed this to Dawson, who flexed it in his hands,
demonstrating how whippy it was. Then he gave it back to the guard, who
wielded it with some strength, making it whistle through the air. “Right, Miss Carling,” said Dawson
quietly. “I shall ask you once more. Who were the men you met tonight?” “I tell you I don’t know,” cried Lisa
despairingly. “Right,” he said. “We’ll see if the cane
can loosen your tongue. Three strokes.” Lisa stared at the weapon, then back at
Dawson. Surely he couldn’t mean it. Surely he was just trying to scare her.
After all, the police weren’t allowed to use corporal punishment, were they?
But then again, the uniforms the men wore weren’t police uniforms. She
watched, trembling, as the guard drew back his arm. Swish! Whack! The cane descended with devastating
force, the thin bamboo cutting cruelly into Lisa’s behind and sending a
stinging pain through her body. Tears leapt to her eyes at the agony that
seared through her backside. Swish! Whack! Before she had time to draw breath he
struck her again, the blow catching the underside of her behind and laying a
stripe across the back of her legs that quickly darkened to an angry red
colour. Swish! Whack! The third blow landed right across her
nether cheeks, bringing a cry of pain from her lips as her body was rocked
forward by the force of the stroke. The man paused, gazing down at the
writhing form of the girl. “Now, Miss Carling,” said Dawson. “I’ll
ask the question again. “Who were they?” “I don’t know. Really I don’t,” gasped
Lisa. “You must believe me.” “Six more strokes,” he said. “No! No more!” cried Lisa. But Dawson
simply ignored her. Swish! Whack! Once again the cane crashed down onto
her bare buttocks, finding yet another patch of virgin white flesh to
decorate with a slash of red. Swish! Whack! Lisa was struggling madly with her bonds
now, making vain efforts to get out of the way of the rain of blows. But she
was caught fast, and her feeble efforts made no difference whatsoever as the
cane continued to find its target. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! A sheen of sweat covered Lisa’s naked
body. Small rivulets ran down her spine and trickled down the wide open crack
of her backside. But there was another wetness that she
found less easy to explain. Deep inside her a perverse sense of
arousal was beginning to surface. If she was honest with herself, she had to
admit that having her naked body spread open before the gaze of all these men
had thrilled her from the start, though her initial fear had suppressed those
feelings. Now though, the strokes of the cane on her bare skin had awakened
the same desires as had the belt that had been used on her behind all that
time ago, and suddenly she was aware of the hardening of her nipples and the
swelling of her clitoris as her body began to respond. Swish! Whack! If her punisher was aware of the effect
that the beating was having on her, he showed no sign of it. The blows
continued with unabated force, leaving a criss-cross of welts across her
behind, each one stinging like the attack of a thousand wasps. But Lisa’s mind
was beginning to blot out the pain, as her lust began to get the better of
her other emotions. Swish! Whack! Once again the beating stopped. For a
few moments the room was silent apart from the panting of the tethered girl.
Then Dawson spoke again: “Well? You going to talk, or do you want
some more?” “I don’t know who they were,” gasped
Lisa through clenched teeth. “Listen,” said the burly man with the
broken nose. “This doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere. We’d better take
her in.” “A few more strokes should do it. Give
her another six.” “No!” But this time Lisa’s protests were
more feeble, and she clenched her fists as the man raised his arm once more. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Each cut of the vicious cane made Lisa
scream aloud. There was no part of her backside that was unmarked now, so
that every stroke fell onto a part of her behind that was already stinging.
But the pain had done its job, and it was lust that filled Lisa’s mind now.
She could scarcely believe the way her body was reacting. Her breasts felt as
if they were swollen to twice their size, the nipples intensely sensitive as
they pressed down against the wood. But the real centre of her desire was her
clitoris, which felt harder than she had ever known it, and she found herself
grinding her hips against the table top in an attempt to rub it against the
surface and obtain some kind of relief from the sexual tension that continued
to build inside her. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Lisa scarcely noticed the last three
blows. It was as if her backside had gone numb, and all the nerve ends had
been transferred to her cunt. She was barely in control now, her hips pumping
back and forth as if she was fucking the very table. “What the...” “Holy shit!” Lisa knew then that the two plain
clothes men had realised what was happening to her and she cursed the
recalcitrance of her body as she fought to control her emotions. But it was
no good. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her hips still, and the image in
her mind of how she must look - her bright red behind jerking back and forth
whilst the men watched - served only to spur her on in her desperate efforts
to gain stimulation from the table top. “My, God, she’s turned on,” said Dawson. “I think you’re right. Here, give me
that poker.” Lisa gazed behind in consternation as
she saw the guard lift the poker from where it had fallen and hand it to
Dawson’s companion. Then, without warning, he thrust the handle between her
thighs. “Ahhh!” The cry that escaped Lisa’s lips was one
of pure lust as she felt the cold roughness of the metal make contact with
her rampant love bud. Suddenly she was grinding her hips down upon it,
revelling in the sensation its gnarled surface gave her. To her delight the
man began to press it firmly against her, moving it back and forth in a
sawing motion over her dripping slit. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” Lisa’s shrill cries rang through the
room as a delicious orgasm swept through her body, finally giving her the
relief she craved so badly. Suddenly the pent-up tensions caused by the
exposure, the mistreatment and the beatings were released in a glorious gush
of pure pleasure, her hips jabbing down at the handle as she came, her body
slapping wetly against the table top. At last, though, she could come no more,
and with a final gasp, her body slumped down with exhaustion. The rise and
fall of her bare shoulders was now the only motion from her exhausted body. “My God, she’s something,” said Dawson
quietly. “I think we’d better get the bitch down to headquarters straight
away.” Chapter
7 When
Lisa awoke she had no idea where she was. She gazed up at the harsh spotlight
above her head, blinking uncertainly. She tried to lift herself into a
sitting position, but found herself strangely unable to do so. She tried to
move her legs, with equal lack of success. Alarmed, she glanced across at her
arm and saw that a chain ran around her wrist, securing it to the head of the
bed. She tugged hard at it, but it was too strong for her and held fast. She glanced down at herself and gave a
cry of dismay on discovering that she was still completely naked. What was
more, her ankles were chained in the same way as her wrists, leaving her
spreadeagled on the small bed. She raised her head, wincing slightly at the
dull pain at her temples. There was another pain too, an altogether more
acute one in her backside. It was that pain which brought back the memory of
the beating she had received at the hands of the security men, and she winced
as she recalled the wantonness of her behaviour in front of them. She glanced about her. She was in a
small, featureless room with white walls and ceiling. The only object of
furniture was the bed to which she was chained. There were no windows, just a
heavy metal door with a small hole about two thirds of the way up, which was
covered by a metal shutter. She racked her brains to try to remember
how she had arrived here, and slowly the memories began to return. They had drugged her in some way. She
recalled the hypodermic needle that had been jabbed into her arm whilst she
was still tied down over the table. From then on everything had been
dreamlike, though she had remained semi-conscious throughout. They had untied her and half walked,
half dragged her out of the house. There, in the driveway, a van had been
parked and they had bundled her inside. There had followed a long journey,
during which she had been secured by her wrists to a ring in the van’s roof,
so that her body rocked back and forth every time the van lurched round a
bend or drew up sharply. When they finally came to a halt she had
been led from the vehicle into another building. She vaguely recognised it as
the one in which she worked, but the entrance through which they took her,
set at the back of the building, was unfamiliar. They had led her downstairs
into the very bowels of the place, and she had a vague recollection of stout
doors being unlocked. Next she remembered a shower room, where
they had removed her stockings and stood her under a cold jet of water, one
guard holding her upright whilst the other ran a soapy cloth over her body,
cleaning her all over, even in the most intimate of places. Finally she had been brought into this
room and the shackles fitted to her. She had protested, but once her head had
touched the pillow she had fallen into a deep sleep. And now here she was,
awake, but totally helpless, and quite unaware into whose clutches she had
fallen and what fate would befall her. She shook her head, trying to clear her
mind and make sense of what had happened the night before. She cursed herself
for her stupidity in thinking she could access the encrypted data on the
system without being discovered. She might have known there would be software
monitoring on the main terminal. Narrowing down the search to her would have
been easy. But who on earth were they, the men in
uniform and their mysterious plain clothed superiors? They weren’t ordinary
policemen, she was sure of that, yet they clearly wielded a great deal of
power. She had heard once before of a secret police force that operated
underground for the company. After all, such a large weapons company was
certain to attract the attention of espionage agents from all kinds of
places. But wasn’t that precisely why Conrad Lang had put her up to the whole
thing? To trap anyone trying to access computer files illegally. Yet if he
was conducting such an operation, surely the security guards would have known
about it. Unless they were the ones being checked. Of course! That must be it. It was all a
test to ensure that the security men were on their toes. But if that were the
case, why had Lang not already contacted them? It was too bad of him to have
left her in their power for so long. Particularly considering the state she
was in. How long were they intending to keep her in this exposed and
vulnerable condition? And how many of them had already feasted their eyes on
her naked body? The thought sent a shiver of excitement through her as she
thought of all those men able to ogle her breasts and sex, and she began to
feel that odd arousal stir within her as she contemplated the idea. A sudden scrape of metal made her look
up. The plate over the hole in the door had been drawn back and a pair of eyes
were gazing in. A man’s eyes. Lisa shifted uncomfortably under their steely
stare. Then the plate slid shut again. “Wait!” she called. But there was no
further sound. Lisa lay back and stared at the light above her head. Clearly
her ordeal was not yet over. It was some time before the spy hole
suddenly opened again. In that period Lisa’s thoughts had run wild. A number
of scenarios filled her head, many of them extremely erotic, despite her
efforts to rid her mind of such thoughts. Now she was forced to snap back to
reality as once again she felt a man’s eyes roving over her nakedness. There was the clang of a bolt being shot
back, then the door opened. Two men stood in the doorway, both dressed in the
same blue uniform as the men who had brought her there the night before. One
of them remained standing by the door whilst the other came inside. “Shit, nobody told me she was so sexy,”
he remarked to his companion as he studied the tethered girl. “And pretty randy from what I hear,”
replied the other man. “Apparently the bastards who she tried to sell the
papers to gave her a damned good fucking before our guys arrived.” “I wouldn’t mind a bit of that myself.
Look at those tits.” “Better not touch. Besides, Dawson’s
waiting for her.” Lisa had remained silent whilst they had
been discussing her so casually. Now she spoke out: “Please, what’s going on?” she asked.
“Why am I being held like this? And who are you?” “Better keep your mouth shut darling,”
the guard replied, dropping to his knees and beginning to remove the shackles
from her arms and legs. “But can’t I just have some clothes?
Even a bathrobe or something?” “They told us you were like that when
they picked you up.” “Yes but...” “I thought I told you to be quiet!”
There was a menacing tone in the man’s voice now. “If you wanna go about
flashing your tits and cunt that’s your problem. Now get up.” Lisa sat up and swung her legs over the
side of the bed. Then she rose unsteadily to her feet. She still felt a
little groggy from the drug they had administered on the previous evening and
her limbs were stiff and sore from their prolonged immobilization. “Jeez, they sure whacked your arse for
you,” said the man, grinning. “Take a look at this, Pete.” He turned her round so that her back was
to the door, and the man outside laughed. “More stripes than a bloody sergeant
major,” he said. “I’d liked to have watched that.” Lisa was swung round again, then felt
something cold and hard close about her wrists. It was a pair of handcuffs,
and they trapped her arms behind her. “Right,” said the man. “Let’s go,” and
he shoved her out of the cell. They made their way down a corridor, the
walls plain white like the cell. There was no carpet, simply a stone floor,
which felt cold under the naked girl’s feet as she padded along. They climbed
a flight of stairs, at the top of which was an elevator. The guard pressed a
button and the doors slid open. Lisa was pushed inside and the doors closed
behind her. The walls of the lift were formed
entirely of mirrors, and to her intense embarrassment Lisa was confronted by
images of herself on all sides, with reflections of reflections within these,
so that her pale body seemed to be everywhere, the images disappearing into
infinity as if down long, brightly-lit passages. She could see herself from
in front, from behind and from the side, as well as from above and below. No
part of her body could be hidden in this small, reflecting box. She examined
the marks on her backside. The worst of the inflammation had subsided now,
leaving a series of clear red stripes that criss-crossed the tender flesh of
her behind. She ran a tentative finger along one of the stripes and winced at
the pain. The lift started to move upwards, though
Lisa had not pressed any buttons. She stood in the centre, regarding her
reflection and wishing desperately she had some way of covering herself. The
ascent seemed to last a very long time. Lisa searched for an indicator to
show what floor she was on, but there was none. Then she felt the machine begin
to slow and a cold fear gripped her as she contemplated what she might find. With a slight bump the elevator came to
a stop. Lisa watched the doors. They seemed to take an age to open, but at
last there was a click and they slid silently back. Lisa stood, staring out
uncertainly. She could see nobody. Then an unseen voice crackled from a
speaker hidden somewhere above her. “Step out and wait in the lobby.” For a moment Lisa wasn’t even sure if
the words were directed at her, but glancing about she could see nobody else,
so she obeyed, stepping uncertainly through the doors. Almost at once the
doors closed behind her and she heard the whirr of machinery as the lift
descended. Then silence. Lisa felt trapped and isolated. The room
she was in was simply a lobby, devoid of furniture. It was like the lobby to
be found in any office building. Somehow its very ordinariness made her feel
even more exposed. The clinical nature of the cell block below had made her
nudity somehow less outrageous. Here, in this normal, everyday environment it
brought back memories of her dreams, in which she found herself naked amongst
fully-clothed strangers who stared at her body as she moved amongst them. But
this was no dream. And worse, her hands were trapped behind her, leaving her
unable to cover herself or defend herself against anyone wishing to ravish
her. Suddenly, a door behind swung open. She
turned to see a young man carrying a sheaf of papers. He paused, his eyes
taking in every inch of her body. The blood rose immediately to Lisa’s cheeks
as he studied her. She lowered her eyes, waiting for him to speak, but he
said nothing. He simply grinned and moved past her, before disappearing
through another pair of doors on the far side of the room. Lisa didn’t know how long she waited
there. She estimated it was about fifteen minutes, and all the time people
were passing through as they went about their daily tasks. Most were young
men, apparently office messengers. There were one or two women as well, who
generally came in pairs and giggled at the sight of the naked girl. At last another of the uniformed men
appeared. “Come with me,” he said shortly, and
held open the door. Lisa stepped through, finding herself in
another corridor. On either side were offices in which she was able to
glimpse people working at computer screens. Once again the incongruity of her
situation struck her, walking through an apparently normal office environment
totally naked. She wondered if she should pinch herself to make sure that
this wasn’t just another strange dream. But the pain in her backside told her
that this whole experience was only too real. At the end of the corridor was a door
marked ‘Private’ and it was to this that she was led. The man rapped twice on
the door, and then paused. “Come!” He opened the door and pushed Lisa
inside, closing it behind her. The room was in darkness, and she stopped,
blinking as she tried to orient herself. Then, suddenly, a light came on. It
was a bright light, blinding almost, and it shone directly into her eyes.
Beyond it she could just discern three shadowy figures who sat behind a desk
facing her. “Come here.” The voice was Dawson’s, and she guessed
the man beside him was his companion of the night before. She had no idea who
the third man was. Lisa moved forward, stepping carefully
in her blindness. She stopped just infront of the desk. “I trust you slept well?” asked Dawson. Lisa didn’t reply. Bang! The man crashed something down onto the
desk in front of him, making Lisa jump with the suddenness of the noise. “Answer me when I ask a question!” he
barked. “What do you want?” Bang! Again the object descended. It appeared
to Lisa to be a heavy stick, and the noise it made was quite frighteningly
loud. “Answer!” “I-I can’t remember the question.” “Never mind. Tell me what you were doing
at that house last night.” “I was delivering those papers.” “Naked?” “I.., I had something on...” The man snorted. “If that’s your idea of
what to wear for a night out.” “I was told to wear it.” Dawson sat up. “By whom?” “I-I can’t tell you.” Bang! The sound of the stick on the desk top
was unnerving Lisa, as was Dawson’s questioning. She wished they would turn the
light out too. But most of all she wished they would give her something to
wear. The enforced nudity was becoming too much for her and she longed to
cover herself. She struggled to concentrate on what the man was saying. “Who told you?” he demanded. “I was told not to say. It’s for
security.” Dawson rose to his feet, the sound of
his chair scraping back sounding unnaturally loud in the silent room, He
skirted the desk and approached Lisa. “Listen, bitch,” he snarled. “I’m
security around here. Now tell me who told you!” “I’m afraid to.” Whack! This time the stick contacted Lisa’s
bare behind, making her cry out with pain. “I’m the one you should be afraid of,”
he said. “Tell me the name.” “It.., it was Conrad Lang.” For a few seconds there was silence.
Then: Whack! Dawson brought the stick down on her
behind again, making her almost dance with the intense pain. “Get real, slut,” he said. “Who was it?” “It’s true,” she gasped. “He told me it
was a test of security.” “And the whoring?” Lisa dropped her eyes. “That was his
idea too,” she said quietly. Dawson sniffed. “All right then,” he
said. “Tell us the whole story.” Chapter
8 Lisa
was asleep when they came for her. It was the crash of the cell door swinging
open that woke her, and she blinked up into the bright lights above her as
the guard entered the room. This time there was no discussion. He
simply released her arms, which had been chained together to the head of the
bed, and dragged her to her feet. There was a moment’s delay while he snapped
the cuffs onto her wrists, then the still naked girl was hustled off down the
corridor. Lisa was barely awake as she stumbled
along, her mind trying to grasp what was happening to her. She wondered how
long she had been allowed to sleep. Down here, in this windowless basement,
it was impossible to tell what time of day or night it was, since the lights
seemed to be kept on all the time. She had no idea where they were taking
her, but she suspected that she was about to encounter Dawson once more, and
the idea did not fill her with enthusiasm. On the previous occasion, under
the bright lights, he had interrogated her for more than two hours,
extracting every detail of what had occurred between herself and Conrad Lang.
She had told him of her visit to the shower, and how she had ended up naked
in Lang’s office. She even had to relate how he’d fucked her across his desk.
Then she had been forced to go step by step through her encounter with the
three men at the house. And all the time Dawson had barked questions at her
whilst the other two had sat silently taking notes. At last, though, they had heard enough,
and Lisa had been led back down the office corridor, watched by the
sniggering staff, and taken below once more. There she was given a meal,
standing in the corner of a canteen full of guards and plain clothes security
men, before being taken back to her cell, chained to the bed, and left there
alone. Until now. And as they led her down the
sterile, white corridors, she felt her apprehension growing with every step. This time they took her, not to the
elevator, but to another part of the basement. It was a large room, decorated
in the same plain white as the rest on that floor. On one side was a row of high
backed chairs, and in the centre a set of gleaming chains hung from the
ceiling. It was to these that she was led. On the ends of the chains were
manacles of equally shiny metal and these were affixed to her wrists, after
which the chains were tightened, dragging her arms up above her head. Her
ankles were then secured to shackles attached to rings set in the stone
floor, spreading her legs wide apart. Finally the guards tightened the chains
above her head still further, so that she was forced to stand on tiptoe, her
body stretched taut, facing the chairs. On the wall behind was a mirror, clearly
placed there deliberately to allow the captive to see herself. Lisa gazed at
her body, once again wishing they would give her some clothes. Even a pair of
panties would make a difference, she thought bitterly. As it was, the way her
legs were forced open gave anyone seeing her a perfect and unrestricted view
of her gaping sex, the lips pulled apart to expose the pink petals of her
labia within. She glanced at her breasts. They were stretched slightly oval
by the tension in her arms and body, but still jutted forward, inviting the
caresses she was powerless to prevent. She realised that the guards were
watching her and her face reddened. One of them moved close to her so that
his face was only inches from hers. “Is it true what they say about you?” he
asked. “That you enjoy flaunting that gorgeous little body of yours? That’s
why you were looking in the mirror, wasn’t it? To make sure we had a good
view of your cunt.” Lisa dropped her eyes. It was true, her
enforced nudity did arouse her, though she was at a loss to understand why.
Even here, confused and apprehensive as she was, she could feel the warm
wetness inside her sex which she knew must soon be visible to her captors. The man raised a hand and placed it over
her breast, taking the nipple between finger and thumb and rolling it back
and forth. Lisa gave a little moan as he did so and the man grinned. “Look at that,” he said to his
companion. “She just can’t resist a bit of rough. Let’s cop a feel of her
cunt.” “No!” said Lisa, shaking her head. But
of course there was nothing she could do but watch herself in the mirror as
the man’s hand slid down her rib cage, over her belly, and down to the dark
triangle beneath. She gave a gasp as his strong fingers
came into contact with the hard little nut of her clitoris. She tried to pull
away from him, but she was held fast and was forced to endure his crude
probing, her gasp turning to a low moan as he slid a finger into her gaping
vagina. The guard began to move his hand back
and forth, winking to his friend as they watched Lisa’s reaction. She closed
her eyes with shame at the way her body responded; her hips pressing forward
against his hand; her striped backside gyrating as his ministrations stirred
the lust of the wanton young girl. Lisa both hated and loved what the guard
was doing to her. Hated it because of the humiliation of her helplessness,
and of the treachery of her young body, and loved it because of the delicious
sensation of his hard fingers which penetrated her so deeply, bringing her
the most exquisite pleasure imaginable. And somehow the bondage added to her
pleasure, the pain of the shackles and the way they rendered her helpless
bringing her a perverse kick that she was unable to explain. The man inserted a second digit into her
throbbing sex, bringing a fresh cry from her as he began to frig her hard.
His companion had moved round behind her meanwhile and was mauling her
breasts, and pinching her nipples until they ached. This simply served to
spur the young girl on, causing her to thrust her hips forward with renewed
vigour. Once again she glanced up at her
reflection in the mirror, and was shocked at what she saw. Was that really
her? That naked, slut whose face was a picture of undisguised passion as the
two heavies groped her young body? She could scarcely believe what she was
seeing, yet the spectacle simply served to spur her on as she ground her hips
down on the guard’s hand. She came with a cry. A shout of lust
that rang around the room, her body thrashing back and forth in her chains,
her unrestrained breasts bouncing up and down as the wonderful climax
overcame her. The man kept his fingers embedded in her, extracting every
ounce of pleasure from the girl, keeping her at her peak for what seemed ages
before slowing his movements and allowing her to come down again. When he slid his fingers out of her
vagina, Lisa slumped in her chains, her breasts rising and falling as she
fought for breath. The two men stood back to watch as the exhausted girl
struggled to regain her composure. It was fully five minutes before her
breathing slowed and she raised her scarlet face to look at her captors. “Enjoy that, did you, slut?” said the
guard who had brought her off. “They said you were randy, but I had no idea.” Lisa said nothing, cursing herself for
her wantonness. The two guards, having had their fun,
wandered off to stand either side of the door as sentries, and the room fell
quiet. Lisa was left to her own thoughts, and to contemplate what would
happen next. Her musings were interrupted by the
sound of a door being opened. She glanced across to see that Dawson had just
entered the room. He seemed scarcely to notice her, though, walking across
and taking one of the seats. Lisa wanted to ask him what was going on, but
she dared not. She stood in silence, waiting to see what would happen. The door opened again and more people
entered. With a gasp she recognised the chairman of the corporation and two
other board members. They were soon joined by more people, some of whom Lisa
recognised from the photographs of board members that stood in the lobby
where she worked. But the final person to enter gave her
the biggest shock of all. It was Conrad Lang! They all took their seats. There were
about a dozen of them, two of them women. All were expensively dressed, and
they chatted quietly together. Lisa felt very uncomfortable indeed, trussed
and naked as she was, and her eyes couldn’t help wandering to the reflection
in the mirror behind the small audience. Suddenly Dawson rose to his feet and the
assembly fell silent. He walked across to stand by Lisa, then began to talk. “Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for
coming here at such short notice. I appreciate that many of you have come
quite long distances to attend this meeting. Let me assure you that it was
absolutely necessary. As head of security for Bellco I have to tell you this
is the most potentially dangerous case of espionage I have encountered since
you gave me the job.” There was a general nodding of heads
about the room. “The basic facts are undisputed. The
young woman you see before you, Miss Lisa Carling, used her position as a
member of the Data Processing department to obtain top secret information on
two of our most important weapons. These she took to a neutral house, where
she handed them to three military attaches from an extreme right wing
government based in southern Africa. At the same time she prostituted
herself, allowing the men sexual favours. When we found her she bore all the
evidence of having given oral and vaginal sex to at least two of the men.” A murmur went round the room, and Lisa
hung her head, unable to meet the eyes of any of those present. “Next,” went on Dawson, “she proceeded
to give us the most extraordinary statement. She claimed that a member of
this board had put her up to the whole thing, on the pretext of a security
check. I shall read you her statement.” Dawson then read out a full account of what
had happened between Lisa and Lang in precisely the way she had described it.
When he had finished, a silence descended on the room as the rest of the
board turned to look at Lang. Lisa looked at him too, and was surprised by
his relaxed demeanour. Then the chairman spoke for the first time. “These charges are very grave, Conrad,”
he said. “What have you to say?” Conrad Lang rose to his feet, a slight
smile on his face. “I say they are completely ridiculous Mr
Chairman,” he said. “A total fabrication from beginning to end.” “But why should this girl have made up
such a tale?” “I believe she has an obsession with
me,” he said. “When I said the charges were a total fabrication that wasn’t
quite true. I did find her in my office one night. She was as naked as she is
now, and she threw herself at me. It was all I could do to stop her advances.
Naturally I sent her packing and since then she’s had a grudge against me.” Lisa gasped. “That’s not true!” she
shouted. “He’s lying, can’t you see that?!” Whack! Dawson’s stick found its mark as it
always did, delivering a stinging blow to her backside. “Quiet!” he thundered. Lisa glared at him, but said nothing. If this is the case,” said the chairman
to Lang, “why did you not report it at once?” “To be honest, I didn’t want to get the
girl into trouble. I assumed it was just a harmless phase she was going
through.” “But you had been placed in a very
compromising position. What if she had accused you of rape?” “I took the precaution of recording
everything that happened that night in my desk diary. I’ll show you if you
want.” “That won’t be necessary,” said the
chairman. “But surely you’re not going to believe
him?” gasped Lisa. “Why shouldn’t we?” “Because he’s lying.” “Do you deny you were in Mr Lang’s
office?” asked Dawson. “No, but...” “And you were naked?” “Yes, but I told you why that was. And
it was him that seduced me. Not the other way round.” Lang shook his head. “The girl’s
disturbed,” he said. “What about the note you sent me?”
demanded Lisa. “And the outfit? Then there was the cab, and the house, and
the caterers and...” “That’s enough,” snapped Dawson. “Mr
Chairman, we have investigated all these.” “And?” “And all were booked anonymously by
telephone. By a woman.” “That doesn’t mean it was me,” said
Lisa. “He could have got anyone to do it.” “Nevertheless, it was a woman’s voice,”
said Dawson. “So what are you saying?” asked the
chairman. “That this girl is indeed obsessed with Mr
Lang. And that when he spurned her advances, she planned this whole thing as
revenge against him and the company.” “But I didn’t!” Whack! Once again Lisa was quieted with a blow
to her backside. The chairman turned to his fellow board
members. “I’m inclined to believe Dawson,” he
said. “After all, the girl’s behaviour has been unreasonable from the start.
Just look at her now, the brazen hussy.” The other board members nodded their
assent. “No need for a vote then,” said the
chairman. “Sorry you had to go through all this, Conrad, but it was necessary
to hear your side. Right, this meeting is ended.” The board members rose to leave. Lisa
stared at them in disbelief. Was that it? Was that all the hearing she was to
get? She, who had been stripped, fucked, beaten and humiliated and now forced
to appear before this kangaroo court? She opened her mouth to protest, then
caught Dawson’s eye and closed it again. She watched in silence as the board
filed from the room, leaving her on her own to contemplate her fate. Chapter
9 If
Lisa had been privy to the conversation that followed, she would no doubt
have been even more apprehensive about her fate. As they filed out of the
room, Dawson and the chairman took their leave of the other members of the
board, then took the lift up to Dawson’s office. Dawson closed the door
behind them, turning the key in the lock. Then he gestured to the chairman to
sit down. He took his own seat and glanced across at his companion. The
chairman spoke first. “What do you think about Lang, then?” he
asked. “Difficult to say. He has an alibi, and
we’ve got no reason to believe he’d pass on secrets.” “It’s just that the girl sounded so
convincing. It’s difficult to imagine she’s lying.” “If she isn’t we’ve got a bigger problem
on our hands than we thought. Lang’s been with the company a long time. Do
you really think he’d betray us?” “Until today my answer to that would
have been an emphatic no. Nevertheless I’d like you to keep an eye on him for
the time being.” “How do you mean?” “Check his movements. See when he uses
the computer. Find out who he’s telephoning, both from home and the office.” “Okay. That should be easy enough.” “And find out how he spends his spare
time. Make sure he’s not open to compromise.” “You mean like running up gambling
debts, or making use of ladies of ill repute? Certainly.” “Now, what about the girl?” “She’ll be dismissed, naturally.” “Of course. But that’s not enough, is
it?” “How do you mean?” asked Dawson. “Those plans she stole. They were
absolutely vital to the success of the most important products the company
produces. And the most controversial. Those things are designed to kill and
maim indiscriminately. They’re completely contra to the Geneva Convention. If
those plans fell into the wrong hands it would mean total disaster for
Bellco, both politically and financially.” “So you don’t think she chose them at
random?” “Definitely not. She knew exactly what
she was doing. And that means we can’t afford just to dismiss her. She needs
silencing completely.” “I see.” “Do you? Do you really see what I’m
getting at?” “You want her killed?” “I don’t want it. This is a dirty enough
business as it is, without murdering our own employees.” “I think I know another way.” “What other way? “A means of ensuring that Miss Lisa
Carling doesn’t bother us, or anybody else, again.” “I don’t understand.” “Are you sure you want to?” The chairman stared at him for a moment,
then shook his head. “No. No I don’t think I do. Just see to
it that she ceases to be a problem to me. I don’t want to see or hear of the
little slut again. Do you understand?” “Perfectly.” “Good.” The chairman rose to his feet.
“I’ll leave it in your capable hands then.” Dawson unlocked the door and let the
chairman out, closing it behind him. Then he returned to his desk and slumped
down behind it deep in thought. After a while he unlocked the bottom drawer
of his desk and pulled out a small black book. He rifled through the pages
until his finger came to rest on an entry. He picked up his phone and began
to tap out a number. “Yes?” The voice on the other end
sounded crackly and distant. “Get me Mr Hameer,” he said quietly. Chapter
10 They came for Lisa in the middle of the
night. One minute she had been sleeping peacefully, her graceful young body
spread-eagled across her bunk, the next she was blinking into the rays of the
spotlight above her as her cell door crashed back against the wall. “W-what is it?” she mumbled, trying to
force her eyes open. “Time to go,” said the guard. He undid her shackles swiftly and hauled
her to her feet. Then the cuffs were snapped onto her wrists and she was
being half led, half dragged down the corridor. “Where are we going?” she asked in
alarm. “Never you mind,” snapped the guard.
“Just keep your mouth shut or I’ll gag you.” They took her up a short staircase and
into another part of the basement. This appeared to be some kind of
warehouse, with boxes and crates stacked on all sides. At the end was a huge
pair of doors, like those found on an aircraft hangar. They were open about
ten feet, and outside Lisa could see the night sky. In the gap was parked a
van, its rear doors open. It was toward this that she was being taken. Lisa tried to hang back, suddenly afraid
of what was about to happen to her, but her guards simply took hold of her
arms and frogmarched her forward. As they came closer she could discern a man
standing beside the van. He was tall and dark skinned, with black hair and a
foreign appearance. For the umpteenth time Lisa wished she had something to
wear as she saw his eyes travel over her naked body. As they reached the van , Lisa realised
that there was another man inside, sitting watching their approach. As the
guards brought her to a halt the man climbed out. Like his companion he was
tall and foreign looking, with a dark droopy moustache and glittering black
eyes. “This the merchandise?” he said. “This is it,” replied one of the guards. “Very nice.” He cast his eyes over Lisa’s
body. “Very nice indeed. Even better than I expected. And is it true she’s a
randy little bitch?” “Loves it. She’s probably horny already.
She gets a real kick out of flaunting her tits and cunt.” Lisa opened her mouth to protest, but
suddenly her eyes detected a movement to her left and, turning her head, she
saw a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Dawson. The two guards
stiffened to attention when they saw him, but still kept their grip on her
arms. “Mr Hameer,” said Dawson. “It’s a
pleasure to meet you again.” The man who had emerged from the van
gave a slight bow. “Mr Dawson,” he said. “This is something of a departure
from the usual products I buy from you.” “I trust the guns have proved reliable?”
said Dawson. “Perfectly. But this young lady. I’m
intrigued.” “Don’t be,” said Dawson. “It’s just a
business deal, like any other.” “But such a fine piece of merchandise.”
The man moved close to the captive, his eyes drinking in her beauty. “Turn round!” he ordered. Lisa glanced at Dawson, who nodded. The
guards let go of her hands and she slowly revolved until her back was to
Hameer. “Stop.” Lisa stood stock-still, aware that she
would incur Dawson’s wrath if she disobeyed. She shivered slightly as she
felt the man’s hands close about the soft globes of her behind. He pulled
them apart and she imagined him studying her anus. “I see they have beaten you,” he mused.
“That is good. A woman needs beating on a regular basis. It increases her
sensuality.” “I don’t think you’ll find that a problem
with this one,” said Dawson. “I believe her to be a true masochist.” “And I’m told she enjoys being fucked?” “A real nymphomaniac. I never saw a
woman so quickly turned on, or so free with her favours. That’s why she
should be kept naked. It turns her on like nothing else.” Lisa listened to the conversation in
silence. It was as if she wasn’t there. As if they were discussing a piece of
livestock at a cattle auction. She thought about the words Dawson had used to
describe her. A masochist and a nymphomaniac. Perhaps it was true. That at
least would explain the true sexual pleasure she derived from the beatings
she had been subjected to, as well as the arousal she felt at the rough
treatment she had received at the hands of her captors. “Turn again.” Obediently she turned to face the man
once more. He reached out for her breasts, closing a hand about each, and she
blushed as she felt her large brown teats pucker to hardness. “Hmm, very nice,” he said. “Very nice
indeed. So firm, yet soft. Spread your legs.” For a second Lisa wasn’t sure if she had
heard correctly. She stared at him. “Spread your legs I said!” he barked. “I
can see some training in obedience will be necessary.” Reluctantly Lisa widened her stance. The man stretched out his hand, his arm
angled down, his palm upwards. “Push your cunt forward. Offer it to me.” “Why are you doing this?” she asked. Whack! Dawson’s
ubiquitous stick was put to use once more, delivering a stinging blow to
Lisa’s backside. “Just do as you’re told.” Lisa hesitated for a second. Then, her
face crimson, she pressed her hips forward, bending her knees slightly as she
deliberately thrust her sex toward the man’s open hand. “Pleasure yourself on my fingers.” Lisa looked to Dawson, an expression of
pleading in her eyes, but he was stony faced. Averting her gaze from the
man’s she pressed forward further until her open sex came in contact with his
fingers. A shudder ran through her body as she
felt his fingertips brush against her most private place and the desire began
to burn within her. Why was it that she was so sensitive? What was it made
her want to rub all the harder against his hand, despite the fact they were
being watched by others? Lisa couldn’t say. All she knew was that, ever since
being deprived of her clothes and her modesty she was like a hair trigger,
the slightest touch being enough to start the juices flowing within her. The man withdrew his hand, smiling at
the gasp of disappointment this brought from the girl, and at the way her sex
lips twitched closed as an involuntary convulsion shook her. “Hmm,” he said. “You are right Mr
Dawson. She does seem eminently suitable. In need of a little training
perhaps, but otherwise quite a find.” “What’s going on?” said Lisa. “Why am I
here? And who are these men?” Dawson shook his head. “All in good
time, young lady,” he said. “Now Mr Hameer. Do we have a deal?” Hameer smiled. “We certainly do, Mr
Dawson.” He turned to the man standing by the van door. “Prepare her.” Before Lisa knew what was happening her
arms were seized by her guards and they dragged her over to the doors of the
vehicle. There was a clink of chains, and something cold and hard snapped
round her arm just above the elbow. Then another on the other side, pinning
her arms back and rendering them completely useless. Then a pair of shackles
were placed round her ankles, the chain between them no more than nine inches
long. As soon as this was in place she felt herself lifted bodily and placed
face down in the back of the van. At once her ankles were pulled up behind
her and the chain between the shackles was snapped onto the one between her
elbows. In seconds Lisa had been totally
incapacitated, so that now she was quite incapable of using her limbs. She
lay helpless on the hard floor of the van, her breasts thrust forward, her
eyes wide with consternation. But they hadn’t finished yet. The dark skinned
man produced something from his pocket and offered it up to her face. “Open your mouth.” Lisa stared at the thing. It was a large
rubber ball with straps dangling from it. “Open your mouth!” The man grabbed her by the chin and
forced her jaws apart, jamming the ball between her teeth and fastening the
strap behind her head. If Lisa had intended to protest, her chance had now
gone. With the ball gag in her mouth she could manage no more than a muffled
mumbling sound. Then she saw that the man had a strip of black cloth in his
hand and, before she knew what was happening, he placed it over her eyes,
plunging her into total darkness. Lisa had never felt so helpless.
Previously they had only prevented her from using her limbs. Now she was
totally in their power, deprived of movement, speech and sight. For a second
she was engulfed by panic, and she tugged at her bonds. But there was no
escape and she knew it. Once again powerful arms were gathering
her up, taking her further inside the van. The guard placed her down on her
side, on what felt like a piece of carpet. Then she heard another rattle of
chains and a tug at her wrists and realised that she was being chained to the
floor of the van. Thus her bondage was complete, and she knew at last what it
was to be totally in another’s power. And with that knowledge she felt another
sudden surge of arousal. The doors of the van slammed. She
wondered if she was alone in there, or whether the man was riding with her.
She thought of his eyes on her body and felt a tingle of excitement. Her legs
were slightly apart, but she made no attempt to close them, suddenly wanting
the man to see her sex, and perhaps detect the wetness therein. There was the chatter of a starter
motor, followed by the roar of the van’s engine coming to life. She heard a
few words shouted, then the vehicle lurched forward and they were moving. The journey was a long one. More than an
hour, Lisa calculated. And all the time she was left in darkness with her
thoughts. Thoughts that became hard to control, given her sensory
deprivation. She found her mind filled with the most
erotic imaginings. She saw herself thrown from the van by the dark skinned
men and left by the wayside, where a passing gang of youths found her,
dragging her off into the bushes and taking it in turns to fuck her. She
imagined the men taking her naked through he streets, where the people
pointed at her and laughed at her nakedness. And she imagined being trussed
up and whipped until her body was a mass of angry red stripes. And all the
time she longed to be able to touch her sex and to bring herself the relief
that she suddenly desired so much. She was jerked back to reality by the
sound of the vehicle slowing down. All at once she felt it pull to the left
onto an unmetalled surface, the wheels bumping along what was clearly quite a
rough track. This went on for a further five minutes,
then suddenly, a new sound reached Lisa’s ears. It was a kind of whistling,
though she couldn’t place exactly what it was. It grew louder, and she
guessed the van was taking them closer to its source They seemed to be on
smoother ground now, though they still bumped and rocked more than it had on
the main road. By the time they stopped the whistle had
swelled to a low roar, which increased still further as the doors were
opened. It was then that Lisa realised what it was. It was the sound of jet engines. Lisa’s heart jumped. An aeroplane! And
clearly it was to that she was being taken. But what could they possibly want
with an aeroplane? She knew, though, that the question was a pointless one.
The answer was simple. They were taking her somewhere. Somewhere a long
distance away. At that moment she felt the presence of
someone close to her, and a hand grasped her wrist. Then came the
unmistakable click of a lock being unfastened, and she was scooped up in the
person’s arms and carried from the aircraft. Outside the air was cold,
chilling her bare skin and making her shiver. The noise was considerably
louder here, and she could hear men shouting above it, though she couldn’t
discern the words. Then they were ascending some steps and the noise level
dropped once more. The man dropped her onto the floor of
the aircraft which, like the van, was carpeted. Then she heard a door close
and suddenly the note of the engines rose. The machine must have been waiting
at the end of the runway, for it started its takeoff run immediately, the
force of the acceleration almost rolling the girl over as they bumped along
the runway. All of a sudden, their ride was smooth
and Lisa knew they were airborne, though where they were going she had no
idea. Chapter
11 Lisa
didn’t know how long she had slept. She was woken by the sensation of hands
fiddling with the chains that held her. She opened her eyes, but could see
nothing, since she was still blindfold. She lay where she was, without
moving, whilst the chains were removed one by one. First her legs were
detached from her wrists, then the shackles that held her arms and hands
together were undone. She sat up, and the gag was taken from her mouth. Then
the blindfold was pulled off, and she blinked into the light, her focus
temporarily impaired by the pressure that the blindfold had applied. “Get up.” She rose to her feet, using a seat
beside her for support. Her limbs ached terribly with their prolonged
immobilisation and her jaw too was extremely painful. She raised her arms
above her head, stretching her lovely young body, her breasts standing out
proudly as she arched her back. Then she remembered her nudity and went to
cover herself with her hands, only to have them brushed aside. “Your modesty does you credit.” Lisa squeezed her eyes shut and opened
them again, and gradually the features of Hameer took shape. Unwilling to meet his eyes she looked
about her, seeing the inside of the aircraft for the first time. It was not a
large one, the cylindrical fuselage having two sets of four seats facing one
another on one side. At the rear was a small galley, where the Hameer’s
companion was standing over a stove. At the front end a pair of curtains had
been pulled across and she guessed that was where the cockpit was. The smell from the stove reached her
nostrils, and all of a sudden she realised that she was ravenously hungry.
She stared back at the galley, and Hameer read her thoughts. “The meal will be ready in a moment,” he
said. “Go forward and sit down.” Lisa took a step and nearly fell
headlong, grasping at the seat for support. She had forgotten the shackles
that were still attached to her ankles. Steadying herself she shuffled
forward to the seat Hameer had indicated. She sat down at the table. Suddenly it seemed
very strange to be as she was, preparing to eat with her bare breasts jutting
forward over the table top. She considered covering them with her hands, but
thought better of it. She looked up as the man approached with a plate piled
high with steaming stew, a glass of beer in his other hand. He placed them
down in front of her and nodded. “Eat.” Lisa didn’t need to be asked twice. She
positively fell on the food, devouring it in great forkfuls and swigging at
the beer, which the man kept topped up for her. By the time she had finished,
both plate and glass were empty and she was feeling a good deal better. The man cleared the plates and she moved
across and gazed out the window. It was dawn, the orange rays of the sun just
poking through the great snowfield of cloud below them. There was no possible
way of knowing where they were. She turned back to see Hameer standing over
her. “Where are we?” she asked. “Where am I
being taken?” He frowned. “You will soon learn not to ask
questions,” he said. “You are not to speak at all except when spoken to. That
is the first rule. Do you understand?” “Yes but...” Bang! He hammered his fist down on the
table. “Do you understand?” Lisa lowered her eyes. “Yes.” “There are many rules you must learn,
little English bitch,” he said. “But most important is total obedience. Any
misdemeanours and you will be thrashed like you have never been before. What
am I telling you?” “That I must be totally obedient Sir,”
mumbled Lisa quietly. “Good. All will be revealed to you in
due course. Meanwhile you take your orders from me and Karam here. Just
understand that you are no longer an individual. Your life is now controlled
by others, and you must do exactly as they say. Understand?” “Yes Sir.” Lisa’s mind was confused. What could he
mean? What could lie in store for her at the end of this journey? One thing
was for certain, her life was about to undergo a fundamental change. She
stared at Hameer, then at Karam. Both were strong and handsome men, with
undeniable appeal. And for the time being she knew she had to obey them. Then
she glanced down at her own body, and the vulnerability of her position sent
a shiver through her. “Right,” said Hameer. “Have you ever
heard of the Mile High Club?” She shook her head. “No Sir.” “Then I’ll tell you. In order to join
this club you need only do one thing. You need to fuck more than one mile
above the earth’s surface.” Lisa felt a strange lurching feeling in
her stomach as he spoke the words. “Sir?” “The pilots inform me that we are at
precisely such a height. Therefore it is time for you to perform your first
duty for me.” She stared at him, her heart beating
hard. The words were spoken so casually. As if he was suggesting she perform
some menial task. Yet what he proposed was the most intimate thing that could
take place between a man and a woman. And she knew she had no choice but to
comply. She felt her nipples stiffen to hardness at the thought. As they did
so his eyes dropped to her breasts and she knew he had seen it happen. “Go to the back of the aircraft and lie
down,” he ordered. Lisa hesitated, and his brow furrowed. “We can do this two ways,” he said.
“Either you can comply and show me your talents at giving pleasure to a man,
or I can have you tied down and gagged, and fuck you against your will. I
have no special preference. Either way will do.” Lisa listened to the words in silence,
but inside her they set in motion a storm of conflicting emotions. On the one
hand there was indignation at the way in which he addressed her, as if she
were simply a chattel for his own pleasure. On the other a huge surge of
excitement swept through her body as she realised the inevitability of the
fucking she was to receive. She rose to her feet and shuffled unsteadily to
the rear of the aircraft. At the back was a wide expanse of
carpet, and she lowered herself onto it, prostrating herself on her back.
Then she spread her legs as wide as the shackles would allow and reached her
arms up above her head, mimicking the spread-eagled position in which they
had tied her to her bunk in her cell. Hameer strolled down the fuselage and
smiled when he saw her. “Hmm. Perhaps I will have you tied
anyway,” he said. “From what Dawson tells me, a slut like you isn’t going to
object to that. You might get even more pleasure from it that way,.” Lisa did not reply, but the surge of
wetness inside her that the remark triggered must have transmitted itself to
the expression on her face, because Hameer turned and shouted something to
Karam. The man moved up to Hameer’s side, his
eyes taking in the position of surrender into which Lisa had arranged her
limbs. A few words passed between the two men, then he picked up Lisa’s
chains, which had been lying on one of the seats. She offered no resistance as he chained
her, holding out her wrists to be secured to the bulkhead of the aircraft
above her head about three feet apart. Once this was done, he undid the
shackles on her ankles and spread her legs still wider, attaching them to the
opposite wall. Then he straightened up and stared down at his captive. Lisa was completely helpless once again,
and the thought sent a spasm of excitement through her. Somehow it was easier
this way. Like this she had abrogated all responsibility for what was about
to occur, and had surrendered control totally to her captors. Whatever they
did now was beyond her control. She raised her head and stared down between
her swelling breasts, imagining the sight her pink nether lips must make,
forced apart so that the men were able to feast their eyes on the dampness
within. She could barely suppress a moan as Hameer stepped between her thighs
and began undoing his trousers. His cock was long and thick, hanging
down before a large, pendulous scrotum. As he kicked his pants aside and
stood before her clad only in his shirt, she licked her lips in anticipation.
He saw this and stepped forward, straddling her body, then dropped to his
knees. Lisa opened her mouth, understanding at
once that he wanted her to take him inside, and aware that she had no choice
in the matter. As she looked at his penis hanging in front of her face she
found herself almost wishing that her hands were free too allow her to stroke
his beautiful organ, but she knew she had to perform for him with her mouth
alone. He pressed his hips forward and she took him between her lips and
began to suck. At the same time she wormed her tongue under his foreskin,
running it over the smooth skin of his glans and seeking out the tiny eye in
the centre. At once she was rewarded by the sensation of him thickening
inside her mouth. She sucked harder, beginning to move her
head back and forth as she did so, the smell and taste of his arousal
spurring her on. And with every second he became more and more erect, his
tool beginning to completely fill her mouth. She continued moving her head back and
forth. It wasn’t easy, given her restricted position, and almost at once her
neck began to ache, but she had ceased to care. All of a sudden the most
important thing to her was Hameer’s cock, and the fact that she was being
taken against her will only seemed to enhance the wanton pleasure she was
taking in fellating him. But Hameer wanted more than her mouth,
and when he pulled his now engorged penis from her lips she knew her honour
was lost. Yet her only reaction was to press her pubis forward, lifting her
backside from the floor in an unambiguous gesture of surrender. He slid his cock straight into her,
bringing a strangled moan from her lips as he filled her with his meaty
truncheon. He lay over her, his face close to hers, staring into her eyes,
his weight bearing down on her. Then he started to move. “Ahhh!” Lisa cried aloud as Hameer’s cock began
to pump back and forth. He moved slowly at first, as if he was savouring the
sensation of taking the gorgeous young girl so easily. And Lisa was something
to savour, her exquisite body spread open for the taking, her nipples like
hard brown buds standing proud from the soft globes of her breasts, her hot,
wet sex enveloping his penis, the muscles tightening suddenly as if to
embrace and welcome it inside. Lisa too found it a moment to savour.
Ever since she had been taken into captivity she had become like a hungry
animal, except that it was not food in her stomach she craved, but a man’s
thick rod sliding into her cunt. The nudity, bondage and ill-treatment simply
seemed to exacerbate this desire, and for the first time it occurred to her
that one of the functions of the chains in which she had been held was to prevent
her from masturbating. Such a prohibition made the fucking she was getting
from Hameer seem almost like a reward, and the skill of her captors in
playing on her desires began to dawn on her. Hameer’s motions were increasing now,
the gentle movement of his hips turning to thrusts as his own passion
increased. Lisa too was thrusting, pressing her pubis up against him and
urging him ever deeper inside. Her body was rocked back and forth by his
actions, making her breasts shake in a delightful way, and the thought of the
effect this was having on her seducer seemed to redouble her own pleasure. All at once, something made Lisa tear
her eyes from Hameer’s and look across to one side. It was then that she
realised that Karam was standing, watching her debauchment, his long brown
cock projecting from his fly as he wanked himself slowly. The sight of him so
close gave her a shock. Suddenly it occurred to her that, no sooner had
Hameer finished with her, than Karam intended to ravish her too. From that
moment her desires had a new impetus. Her sex muscles tightened and brought a
gasp from the man who was already enjoying her. Hameer’s cock was pumping in and out of
her like a piston now, each stroke bringing a grunt of pleasure from her
lips. Lisa knew she couldn’t withhold her orgasm much longer, but she wanted
to feel his spunk inside her before she abandoned herself to it. The sudden tensioning of his muscles
told her that the moment had come, and seconds later she was rewarded by the
sensation of a gush of hot semen escaping from his rampant tool. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ahhh!” Lisa came with a scream, her body
jerking like a marionette on elastic strings as the pleasure engulfed her. It
was a glorious orgasm, the sensation of Hameer’s cock pumping spurt after spurt
of his seed deep inside her vagina bringing waves of indescribable pleasure
to her hot little body. Her entire being was concentrated in her cunt at that
moment, and the shrieks and moans that escaped her lips were more like the
cries of an animal than of the decorous young girl that she had so recently
been. Hameer pulled out suddenly, his cock
still dribbling spunk from the tip, which trickled down the length of his
shaft and ran down his balls. He moved forward until his glistening pole was
right in front of her face. She didn’t need asking. She raised her head from
the carpet and protruded her tongue, catching the drip of sperm that was
forming under his scrotum and swallowing it. She worked her way over his
balls and up the length of his penis, licking greedily and devouring all
traces of his spunk and her juices. Only when he was completely clean did she
lower her head to the floor once more. Hameer rose to his feet and turned away,
saying nothing. Somehow Lisa didn’t care. Soft words and sweet nothings were
for lovers. What had just happened had nothing to do with love. It was simply
a man relieving his sexual tensions and using her as the instrument of that
relief. Lisa was no more than a living cunt to him, an object to satisfy his
desires. And if, at the same time, hers were satisfied as well, then so be
it. Her musings were interrupted by the
sudden invasion of a second penis into her open sex, and all at once her
arousal was renewed. Her vagina enclosed Karam’s cock with the same
enthusiasm as it had Hameer’s. Karam’s love making was less refined
than was Hameer’s. From the start he was thrusting hard, his face screwed
into a mask of concentration as he rammed his cock into her. His raw desire
was infectious and Lisa responded in like manner, her backside banging up and
down on the floor of the aircraft as she matched his rhythm. His orgasm came quickly, yet still Lisa
responded with her own, her cries of pleasure no less urgent as her lust
overcame her. By the time Karam withdrew she was panting with exertion, and
her sex was brimming with come, which leaked from her and ran down the crack
of her backside, where it formed a pool on the floor between her legs. Her body ached now, and the stiffness
was beginning to creep into her limbs once more. She looked up to see where
Hameer had got to, hoping for relief. All she saw was a man in a blue uniform
staring down at her and beginning to undo his trousers. She had forgotten the pilots. Chapter
12 Lisa
gazed out of the window as the aircraft banked steeply over the rough
terrain. They were flying alongside a range of hills which, to the girl,
seemed dangerously close to their wing-tips. She searched the landscape
below, looking for any sign of life, but without success. The earth was an
unusually red colour with a meandering brown river running through it. The
vegetation was sparse, with a few copses beside the water and one or two
patches of green. All the rest was barren. They had been at this low altitude for
nearly fifteen minutes, having descended soon after the cloud below them had
dispersed. Now they sped on down the valleys at what seemed a very precarious
height. Lisa was sitting in the seat at which
she had eaten earlier. The handcuffs that held her arms behind her and the
shackles on her legs seeming almost comfortable after the discomfort of her
earlier bondage. At the other end of the aircraft sat Hameer and Karam, deep
in conversation. Since her ravishment, which had included both the pilots,
followed by second helpings for her two guards, she had been released and
allowed to sleep once more. She had woken to discover it was daylight, and
soon afterwards the engine note had dropped and they had begun to descend.
Now, as she sat alone, staring from the window, the apprehension was beginning
to return. She thought back over what had happened
earlier in the flight, and of her disgraceful behaviour. She could scarcely
believe the way she had reacted. It was as if the modest young girl of just a
few weeks before had been replaced by a completely different person. Even
now, as she glanced down at her nakedness, she couldn’t suppress the thrill
that she felt, knowing that the two men could see her. She wondered what would happen when they
landed. She had already been given an inkling. Since she had heard them,
Hameer’s words about obedience had been ringing round in her head. It was
clear that her life was about to change totally, but what would her new one
be like? For how long would she be kept like this, bound and denied the
simple modesty of clothes? And how many more men would take her in the way
these four had done, without thought for consent? Suddenly the aircraft’s engine note
dropped and it banked again. Then a gleam of reflected sunlight caught Lisa’s
eye. She squinted. There, some way below, she could discern a long grey strip
with white markings on it. The flash of light had come from the centre and,
as the aircraft dropped lower, she realised that there was a vehicle parked
beside the strip. It was a landing ground, and as the nose of the plane came
round she realised that that was where they were headed. The clunk and rumble
of the lowering undercarriage confirmed this. Lower and lower they dropped, The
patches of green turning to trees as they came closer. The aircraft was
descending fast now, and Lisa pressed her cheek to the window, searching
ahead for the runway. So near the ground were they that she
was certain they would miss the strip altogether. But the pilot was clearly
an expert and, the moment the white stripes at the end of the runway passed
beneath the wings, they were down and bumping along the ground. The engines
roared briefly, slowing them almost to a walking pace. Then they swung round
and taxied back up the length of the strip. Lisa could see the vehicle clearly now.
It was a Land Rover. It appeared to be an old one, and was covered in the red
dust that seemed to be everywhere. There were figures standing beside it and
she shrank down in her seat for fear of being seen. As they came closer the
figures revealed themselves to be four men. One was a Negro, small and wiry
and aged about forty. Next to him was a huge man with olive coloured skin
similar to Hameer’s. He was well over six foot tall, with a girth to match. His
head was completely shaven and he wore a large gold ring in one ear. He was
naked from the waist up, his chest broad but hairless. From his belt hung a
long, thin horse whip. His two other companions were also of Arabic
appearance, both dressed identically to him, but lacking his size and
presence. Lisa looked round to see Hameer standing
beside her. “This is as far as you go,” he said.
“Time to get off.” Lisa rose uncertainly to her feet.
Hameer must have seen the apprehension in her face, for he smiled, not
unkindly. “Don’t be afraid, little English rose,”
he said. “Remember, always to be obedient. That man is called Pakat. He is
well versed in the training of young slaves like yourself.” Slave? Lisa opened her mouth to exclaim,
but stopped herself just in time. She stared at Hameer in disbelief. “Surely you have guessed the nature of
your new existence?” he said. “You are to be trained in total obedience, then
sold in the slave market to a wealthy man. Your duties will be to keep him
happy in any way he demands. It’s as simple as that.” Lisa shook her head. Despite the fact
that she had already begun to suspect that some kind of servitude lay before
her, the knowledge still came as a shock. Now, as she looked across to where
Karam was unlocking the door of the aircraft, a strange sense of finality
settled upon her. It was as if the fuselage of the aircraft was a final link
with the life and civilisation she had known thus far. Beyond it lay the
unknown. She turned her eyes back to Hameer. “You wish to ask me something?” he
asked. “Yes Sir.” “Go ahead.” “Where am I Sir? And where am I going?” “Suffice to say you are in Africa. The
name of the country is unimportant. It is a convenient entry point for girls
such as you who come from the West.” Africa! Of course! The colour of the
soil, the barrenness of the earth. It all tied in with what she had seen and
heard of the Dark Continent. Lisa felt suddenly very alone. “As to where you are going,” he went on.
“From here you will be transported by road to a training camp. It will take a
number of days, and you will pass through some dangerous country on the way.” “Dangerous?” Lisa had not meant to
speak, but the word had escaped her lips before she had time to stop it.
Hameer ignored the slip, however. “There are dangers, certainly,” he said.
“Many of these lands are ruled by despots, and in the bush are bands of armed
rebels. But don’t worry. The men who will transport you are experienced, and
nobody has yet been lost to the rebels.” The door to the aircraft was open now,
and Karam beckoned to her. Lisa shuffled forward toward the opening, then
turned for a last time to Hameer. She had known him only a few hours, and in
that time he had bound her and fucked her. But he had also showed some
compassion, and somehow his presence seemed almost benign compared to the men
who awaited her outside. He moved across to her, taking her by
the shoulders and pinning her to the wall of the aircraft. One hand went to
her breast, caressing it gently whilst the other slid down between her legs. “Oh!” She gave a start as he slipped two
fingers into her vagina, pressing them deep inside her and bringing a gasp of
surprise to her lips. He worked his hand back and forth a few times, and at
once she felt the familiar lust rise within her. He slid his fingers out again and stood
back. Lisa was already starting to pant, and her hips were moving slightly. “You will make a good slave,” he said.
“You are so sensuous, any man who sees you will want to fuck you. And I know
you will want it too. Now go.” Lisa dropped her eyes, trying to quell
the lustful thoughts that were rising within her. Then she turned and stepped
through the door. The sun was blinding. In normal circumstances
Lisa would have welcomed its warm rays caressing her bare skin. This was
different, though. Today her nakedness was enforced, and the men who looked
upon her were strangers with unfamiliar foreign faces. If her hands had been
free she would have used them to cover her breasts and sex. But they weren’t,
and she was forced to endure the frank stares of the four men as she made her
way awkwardly down the steps of the aircraft to where they were standing. Her feet touched the earth. It was hot
and stony, but she remained erect, determined not to show discomfort or fear
before her new captors. Still hobbled by the shackles on her legs she made
her way across to where the men were standing and stopped in front of them. For a few seconds they faced one
another. Then the big man, who Hameer had called Pakat, barked an order. His
two similarly dressed companions stepped forward, each grasping one of Lisa’s
arms. They bent down, and placing a hand behind her thigh, lifted her into a
sitting position, at the same time spreading her thighs apart to reveal the
pink petals of her sex to the other two. They carried her to the vehicle. It was
a fairly battered machine that had clearly seen better days. The back end was
open, with a metal frame over the top that was clearly designed to support a
canvas roof. The tailgate was down, and the two men lifted her over this and
onto the floor. Then they vaulted up beside her. One of them reached for the
cuffs at her wrists and undid one of them. Then they pulled her arms above
her head, so that her hands closed about the bar that ran down the centre of
the vehicle. At once the cuff was snapped back into place, leaving her
standing, facing backwards. The Negro pushed up the tailgate and
fastened it on both sides, then he turned to Pakat and gave a kind of salute.
The big man nodded. The two guards settled down on padded seats on either
side of their captive. Then Pakat and the black man went around to the front,
the larger man climbing into the passenger seat. The doors slammed and the
engine started, a plume of black smoke emitting from the exhaust. Then there
was a grinding of gears and the vehicle moved forward with a lurch that threw
Lisa off balance. She staggered sideways, clutching onto the bar above her
head for dear life as they bumped and rocked along the track before swinging
right onto a narrow dirt road and heading off through the bush. A sudden roar reached Lisa’s ears and
she turned to see the aircraft accelerating along the runway. She watched it
as it rose into the air. To her it seemed to represent the freedom she was
leaving behind. Ahead lay the prospect of slavery, submission and punishment.
She kept her eyes on the speeding aircraft until it disappeared over the
hills. Then she turned her gaze toward the road ahead as the Land Rover
carried her away to a new life. Chapter
13 The
Land Rover sped on through the afternoon, the sun continuing to beat down on
its occupants. Lisa soon realised that she was in danger of sunstroke in the
searing heat of the African sun. Even despite the wind that blew over her
naked body she was beginning to sweat, and she knew her skin would burn
unless they found some shade. She needn’t have worried, however.
Before they had been travelling for half an hour, one of the men pulled a bag
from under his seat and reached inside. He pulled out a bottle. It was
unmarked, and contained a viscous white fluid. He uncorked the top and poured
a quantity onto his hand, then rose to his feet, grasping onto the bars above
him. He held out a hand and Lisa shrank back momentarily. Then he began
wiping streaks of the fluid onto her skin, beginning with her forehead, then
a dab each on her breasts and another on her shoulders. Once most of the fluid had been
deposited, he returned to her face, working the lotion into her skin with
circular motions. He covered the whole of her visage, caressing her cheeks,
chin and neck. The substance had a scent like coconut, which Lisa found not
unpleasant, and the motion of his fingers felt good to her. Then his hands dropped to her shoulders,
again massaging her gently as he worked the fluid into her pores, covering
her upper back and working down to the base of her spine. He turned her round to face him and her
eyes dropped to her full breasts, both of which bore a blob of the lotion
which had, in the heat of the sun, trickled downwards, so that both her
nipples had a shiny stripe running over them. She tensed herself as he
reached for her, his hands closing over her jutting mammaries, and began to rub
the warm liquid into her soft, pliable flesh. “Mmmm” Lisa was quite unable to suppress the
moan of pleasure as his hands began to stroke and squeeze her breasts. At
once her nipples swelled into hard little points under his touch and she
threw back her head, her eyes closed, her body tingling with the delicious
feel of his hands. He moved lower, his fingers sliding over
the undulations of her rib cage, then her belly, all the time massaging the
fluid into her pores with a gentleness and sensuality that belied the man’s
stern appearance. He worked all the way down to her pubic hair, his fingers
brushing it lightly and sending new waves of desire through her as he touched
her so close to her most private place. Then he removed his fingers,
eliciting a sigh from the tethered girl. He picked up the bottle, applying more
to his palm. This time he deposited it on the swelling globes of her
backside, down her thighs and on her lower legs. Then the massage began
again. He started with her bottom, his hands
showing the same gentleness as they had on her breasts as he kneaded the
pliant flesh. He was very thorough, sliding his fingers down right into the
crack of her behind, the sensation of his touch on her anus bringing another
gasp of pleasure to her lips. Next he dropped to his knees, taking her
right foot in his hand and spreading the lotion over it. He moved to her
ankle, then her calf, and finally up to her knee, taking care that every inch
was covered. He did the same with her left leg, working with meticulous care
until the only place left untouched was the area between her knees and her
crotch. When he started working up the inside of
her thighs, one hand on each, Lisa was suddenly afraid she might lose
control. His hands had such a gentle touch that every caress sent a new surge
of desire through her. She looked down at him. His face was level with her
pubis, his eyes able to drink in the soft petals of her nether lips as his
hands moved higher and higher up her thighs. She made to close her legs, but he
wouldn’t let her, slapping the sensitive flesh on the inside of her leg and
barking an order at her. Lisa closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as his
hand came closer to her sex. The first time his hand brushed her
there, she gave a little gasp. His fingers felt wonderful to her as they
glided over her skin, each stroke ending with the back of his hand running
along her slit and sending delicious sensations through her body. When he
finally closed his hand about her sex, his index finger tracing the length of
her nether lips and lingering on the hard, wet little nodule at the top, she
very nearly came. Then his hands left her, and she gave a
little moan of disappointment. She opened her eyes and saw the grin on his
face, then looked down at her body. She was shocked to see that her hips were
gyrating in the lewdest possible manner and she fought to bring her
recalcitrant body under control as the two men sat back to watch her. The vehicle rumbled on over the hot,
dusty track, every now and again striking a pothole that made it lurch
sideways, throwing its reluctant passenger off balance as she clung grimly to
the bar above her head. The terrain remained unchanged; mile after mile of
scrubland punctuated by the occasional tree. Every now and again she would
spot small herds of gazelle or an occasional brightly coloured bird. There
were a few humans too, their houses like small brown mounds, only
identifiable by the plumes of blue smoke that rose from holes in the top. The
people were the darkest black, tall and haughty looking. They would hear the
vehicle approaching from afar, jumping to their feet and lining the road to
stare at the passing Land Rover. When they caught sight of the naked white
girl who stood in the back they would point at her and laugh aloud at the
sight she made. The two guards chatted to one another as
they went along. Lisa could understand nothing of what was said, but it was
clear to her that it was her that they were talking about. Every now and
again they would raise their whips, running them down her flank or up her
inner thigh, watching her body react as the rough leather sought out her sex
and slid along it, bringing fresh moans from their captive. Soon the flesh
about her sex was covered in shiny streaks where they had rubbed her wetness
from the end of their whips. After about three hours Lisa spotted a
village ahead. It was larger than any they had seen all day, with a few
brick-built buildings as well as the traditional huts. Lisa hoped desperately
that they would bypass this small outpost of civilisation, but to her dismay
she saw they were heading toward the centre. Her dismay increased when she
saw the filling station and realised they were about to stop. The Land Rover drew up in front of the
single petrol pump and sounded its horn. A man emerged from a small shed. He
was of Arabic appearance, like her captors, and his face creased into a grin
when he spotted the girl. He pulled a lever on the ancient petrol pump and it
whirred into life. Then he removed the petrol cap from the vehicle and began
to fill it up, his eyes remaining fixed on Lisa’s breasts and sex. At the
same time a crowd of locals was forming, all gazing in fascination at the
lovely young captive so delightfully displayed to them. Lisa’s face glowed
scarlet as they chatted and laughed, and she longed for the Rover to be on
its way again. Suddenly she heard a voice, and looked
down to see Pakat standing beside the vehicle. It was the first time he had shown
his face since the airfield. As he spoke the two guards climbed to their
feet, and to Lisa’s surprise, began to undo her cuffs. The guards lowered the tailgate and the
crowd parted as the red-faced girl was taken to the edge and lifted down. At
once they fastened her wrists behind her back, then Pakat took her arm and
led her through the chattering mob toward a building opposite. He pushed open
the door and shoved her inside, allowing it to close behind them, much to
Lisa’s relief. Inside, the building was cool after the heat of the African
sun, the only light coming through a barred window at the side. Lisa stared about her. It appeared to be
some kind of shop, the shelves stacked with all kinds of diverse goods from
tinned food to pots and pans. The walls were covered with advertisements and
the place had a spicy smell which was by no means unpleasant. The
establishment seemed deserted, but no sooner had the door closed than there
was a noise from the back and a man emerged. He too had the lighter skin that
distinguished him from the locals and his small eyes gleamed as they alighted
on Lisa’s naked body. A conversation began between him and
Pakat, and once again Lisa felt sure she was the subject. She stood by
quietly, her eyes cast down, while the pair laughed and joked together like
old friends. When Pakat finally addressed her she was, at first, unaware that
it was to her he was speaking. “The gentleman wishes to measure your
neck.” The words startled the girl. Pakat’s
English was perfect, the accent reminding her of old wartime newsreels in
which the vowels were exaggerated to the extent of sounding false. Somehow
the voice didn’t seem to fit the gruff looking foreigner from whose mouth
they came. It was almost like seeing a film badly dubbed into English. “I-I beg your pardon Sir?” “I said, the gentleman wishes to measure
your neck. And kindly refer to me as Master.” “Master?” His hands went to the whip at his belt.
“I am not accustomed to having to repeat myself.” “I’m sorry... Master,” she muttered,
eyeing the weapon with trepidation. She turned to the shopkeeper, who had
produced a tape measure and was holding it up. She stepped forward, wishing
her hands were free. He placed the measure about her neck,
pulling it snugly around her throat and checking the reading. He nodded and
let go, allowing his hand to drop to her breast, which he fondled gently.
Lisa closed her eyes, embarrassed by the way her nipples hardened under his
touch. The two men exchanged a few more words,
then the shopkeeper turned away and opened a drawer behind him. He rummaged
inside for a short time, then pulled out something and laid it on the
counter. Lisa stared down at it. It resembled a
dog’s collar, being a strip of brown leather set with pointed studs. In the
centre was a ring made of the same material as the studs. The collar itself
was about two inches thick, and at each end was a strap, about half that
width, one end of which sported a buckle. The man placed his hand under Lisa’s
chin, raising her head. Then he picked up the collar and placed it about her
neck. It was lined on the inside with a sort of velvet, which felt soft
against her skin. He pulled the strap through the buckle and fastened it. The collar was a snug fit. Very snug. It
hugged her neck closely, almost, but not quite, restricting her breathing.
Pakat ran his finger round it, nodding his approval while the man again
fondled Lisa’s breasts. “This is your collar,” said Pakat. “It
is a symbol of your slavery. When you are bought by your new owner it will
display his name. It is an honour to wear such a thing.” Lisa said nothing. There was nothing to
say. Every step of this journey seemed to be taking her further and further
from the girl she had been previously, and the fitting of the collar was yet
another indication of how her free will was being taken from her. “It is made of the most expensive
leather,” went on Pakat. “This gentleman is a master craftsman at such
things. For a male slave he would ask a good deal of money. However, he wishes
for you to pay in a different way.” Lisa turned to him. Her heart beating
hard as she digested his words. Meanwhile the man continued to fondle her
breasts. “You are to use your mouth to give him
relief.” The words rang in Lisa’s ears. There was
no emotion in Pakat’s voice. He might as well have been asking her to make
the man a cup of tea. She stared at him, then at the man, who was smiling as
he kneaded the soft flesh of her mammaries. Suddenly Pakat grasped her wrists, and
there was a snapping sound as he removed her cuffs. Lisa’s immediate instinct
was to cover herself, but she resisted the temptation, knowing it would anger
her captor. Instead she let her arms drop to her sides while the shopkeeper
continued to caress her. “On your knees,” ordered Pakat. Lisa obeyed at once, dropping down into
a submissive position before the shopkeeper. She stared at the bulge in his
trousers, a strange feeling at the pit of her stomach as she contemplated
what she was about to do. “Now,” said Pakat. “Show us how you
service your Masters.” Lisa hesitated, unable for a second to
believe what was being asked of her. She looked about her at the dingy shop,
then up at the man in front of her. Her eye was caught by a mirror on the
wall beside the counter and she contemplated her reflection, kneeling pale
and naked before the shop owner, her breasts jutting forward so that the long
brown nipples brushed against his trousers. Could this really be happening to
her? Was that brazen slut in the mirror really her, baring her all to some
squalid shopkeeper and paying for his goods with her body like a common
prostitute? A shudder ran through her small frame, but it wasn’t fear or cold
that caused it. To Lisa’s chagrin she realised it was a shudder of pure
lustful desire. She reached up and ran her hand over the
swelling at the man’s crotch. It felt very hard indeed and as she squeezed
she felt it move slightly. She took hold of his belt, undoing it and then
fumbling with the waistband of his trousers. Next she slid down the zipper,
and the garment dropped away. His cock was straining so hard against the thin
material of his briefs she felt sure they must soon split. She reached inside
the gap at his waistband and her hand closed about a hot, thick rod of flesh.
The pants snapped downwards and all of a sudden his cock sprang to attention. To Lisa it was a beautiful sight, long
and thick with a great vein up the centre, the purple head bobbing up and
down as his tight scrotum contracted rhythmically beneath. She ran her fingers
up and down the solid flesh, sliding his foreskin back to uncover yet more of
his shining glans. She looked up into his eyes, and he nodded to her. Lisa licked her lips. She opened her
mouth and took him inside. His cock was even bigger than she had
thought. The glans alone seemed to fill her mouth completely. Yet even after
she had closed her lips about it he continued to press forward. More and more
of his shaft rammed into her face until she feared she might gag. His balls
were almost brushing her chin now and she could feel the throbbing power of
his knob as he began to thrust it against her. Lisa sucked for all she was worth, one
hand gently caressing the man’s testicles while the other worked up and down
his shaft. Now that she had him inside her mouth, all thoughts of shame
deserted her as she concentrated on giving him pleasure. She began to bob her
head up and down. Loud slurping noises came from her lips as she devoured him
hungrily, her breasts bouncing with every jab of his hips. Suddenly there was a loud bang as the
shop door was flung open. Lisa’s eyes darted sideways, though she dare not
stop what she was doing for fear of incurring Pakat’s wrath. A man stood in
the doorway, staring at the scene before him. He was black, dressed in shabby
trousers and an old white shirt. He stared contemptuously at the naked white
girl, then looked up at the shopkeeper and shouted something. The man replied
with a shake of his head, waving the newcomer away. Once again the man shouted, pointing to
something behind the counter, and Lisa realised he was asking to buy a pack
of cigarettes. The shopkeeper was too preoccupied with the wanton girl who
was fellating him, though, and simply turned away. All of a sudden Lisa felt her hair
grasped from behind and yanked backwards, so that the shopkeeper’s shaft
slipped from her lips. Her head was dragged round and she found herself
staring into the eyes of the newcomer. They were cold eyes, filled with
hatred. His lip curled back in a snarl, and she tried to cower back, suddenly
afraid. The man was speaking to her. She couldn’t understand a word he was
saying, but she knew he was berating her. On his cheek was a mark. A long
serpent that had been literally cut into the flesh of his face. It seemed
almost alive as he spat out the insults, writhing back and forth with every
word he spoke. Whack! Pakat’s whip flashed down, cutting
across the man’s wrist and making him suddenly scream with pain. He dropped
Lisa’s hair at once and she cowered back against the counter. Whack! The whip descended again, this time
across the man’s face, the thin stripe that it left seeming to slice the
dreadful serpent in two. Whack! By now the man was backing toward the
door, still shouting abuse as the whip slashed across his chest. Pakat raised
his arm again, but the man had had enough and fled through the door, slamming
it behind him. The incident had lasted no more than a
few seconds, yet Lisa found her heart was thumping like a hammer. She looked
up at Pakat, who was sliding the whip back into his belt. “Damned upstart,” he said. “These people
need a lesson in manners.” He looked down at the girl. “They hate us you
know, because they see us as having all the wealth. But not half as much as
they hate your people. They see the white man as the thief of their lands.
That’s why some of them rebel. Damned savages.” Lisa stared at the door. She couldn’t
get the man’s eyes out of her mind, nor the image of that dreadful serpent on
his cheek. Suddenly she felt her head being pulled
round, and she was confronted by the shopkeeper’s erection once more, now wet
and shiny with her saliva. She grasped it in her fist and lowered her head
over it, sucking hard. It didn’t take much longer. She knew it
wouldn’t. His cock was already twitching violently and the grunts that
emitted from his throat as he thrust his hips against her face were becoming
louder by the second. He came suddenly, his thick semen
pumping into the back of her throat, threatening to drown her so copious was
the flow. She choked and gagged, trying hard to swallow every drop as spurt
after spurt flew from the end of his penis into her open mouth. Despite her
best efforts, though, the viscous fluid began leaking from the corners of her
mouth and dribbling down her chin, dripping onto the white swellings of her
breasts. The man continued to pump his hips back
and forth until every last drop of his semen had either disappeared down
Lisa’s throat or onto her body. Only then did he release his grip on her head
and ease his still twitching member from between her lips. Lisa remained
where she was, kneeling before him as the spunk ran down her, turning colder
as it did so. She watched as he pulled up his pants and trousers, then turned
and nodded his approval to Pakat. The large man tapped Lisa on the cheek with
his whip. “Come along, little one,” he said. “Time
to move on.” Chapter
14 The
next morning they were on the road early, before the sun was fully up. The
air felt cool against Lisa’s naked flesh as the vehicle began to gather speed
along the track, but she didn’t mind, aware that the day would soon be hot
enough. The night had been spent at a small
oasis at the side of the road. The two guards had erected a bivouac whilst
the driver had prepared a meal, leaving Lisa still tied to her spot in the
back of the Land Rover. Once everything was prepared Pakat had allowed her
down, shackling her by one leg to a nearby tree. Then she had been allowed to
bathe in the small pool and to wash the grime and the mens’ dried discharge from
her body. She had been given a bowl of stew and a
bottle of beer for her supper, after which the guards hammered stakes into
the earth and spread-eagled her on top of an old blanket. She had half
expected to be ravished by the four of them, but they paid her scant
attention, the three lighter skinned men sitting round the fire and chatting
animatedly together whilst the Negro sat alone, his back against the tree,
contemplating the naked beauty. Lisa had lain for some time gazing up at the
night sky before finally falling into a troubled sleep, in which evil men
with snakes in their hair chased her across endless miles of wasteland. She awoke feeling stiff and cold, to
find Pakat undoing her bonds. A bowl of oatmeal followed, after which she was
ordered to assist the guards in striking camp. She complied willingly, glad
to have something to do to pass the time. When everything was finally packed
away she was manacled in position once more and they were on their way again. The road seemed endless, with very
little to take the girl’s attention as the sun rose higher into the sky. The
state of the surface did not improve, and the prolonged standing, accompanied
by the constant buffeting, soon made her weary. The guards too seemed to be
feeling the effects, lapsing into silence, their heads nodding down onto
their chests. In fact, when the ambush came, nobody
was in the least prepared for it. It started with a single shot. At first
Lisa thought the vehicle had backfired, but then was alarmed by the way they
suddenly slid sideways across the road. A second crack rang out and they
swung back the other way. It was then that she realised that both front tyres
had been punctured. The vehicle’s momentum continued to
carry it forward as it slewed crazily from side to side, the driver wrestling
desperately with the wheel. Lisa hung on as tightly as she was able, her
knuckles white whilst the guards threw themselves onto the floor. In the end, the crash was quite gentle,
the Rover sliding towards the edge of a ditch and almost stopping before the
wheels slipped into it and it dropped down onto its side, depositing Lisa and
the two guards into the dust. At the same time a second volley of shots rang
out, the bullets clanging against the underside of the vehicle. Lisa lay where she had fallen. She was
completely unhurt, not even a graze on her bare flesh. But she was still
manacled to the vehicle and quite unable to do anything than flatten her body
against the earth as the bullets whistled overhead. There was a crash as Pakat kicked out
the windscreen. Then, showing a surprising agility for one so bulky, he
scrambled through the gap, closely followed by the driver, both throwing
themselves down behind the vehicle. The guards, meanwhile, were scrabbling in
the luggage. They came up with a pair of ancient looking rifles that, even to
Lisa’s inexperienced eye, looked to be little use against the automatic fire
that was striking the vehicle. One of the guards cocked his rifle, then
peered cautiously round the side of the overturned Rover. At once a volley of
shots rang out and he darted back. Lisa looked at the mens’ faces, and saw
nothing but fear. Pakat barked an urgent command to the
other three, but the two men with rifles simply shook their heads. It was
clear that the small party was outgunned by their ambushers, and neither of
the men was willing to risk his neck by trying anything silly. The gunfire stopped, and an uneasy
silence fell over the scene. Lisa raised herself to her knees, hugging her
body against the bar to which she was still manacled. The three men remained
where they were, huddled behind the overturned vehicle. A conversation ensued between Pakat and
the two guards. Voices were raised and arms waved, and there was much shaking
of heads. The driver was called in, and he too argued with some gusto. It
became clear to Lisa that Pakat was making a lone stand against the other
three, and that he was losing the argument. At last he simply turned away
from the others, shaking his head, clearly defeated. A brief conversation
followed between the other three, then one of the men reached into his pocket
and pulled out a large white handkerchief, which he tied to the barrel of his
gun, The other four watched with trepidation
as he slowly raised the flag above the side of the vehicle. Lisa tensed
herself for a barrage of shots, but none came. Then a shout rang out from
their attackers. The man with the flag shouted a reply,
and a dialogue began. Lisa was frustrated by her inability to understand a
word that was being said. She turned to Pakat, but he remained stony faced,
like a child in a sulk. More shouting, then the man with the
white flag slowly rose to his feet, so that he could see over the vehicle.
Once again Lisa tensed, but there was no shooting. With slow, deliberate
steps the man walked out of the shelter of the crashed Rover and disappeared
in the direction from which the gunfire had come. Another silence fell. The tension
amongst the three men was palpable and Lisa found that she too was trembling
as the minutes passed. At last she could bear the suspense no
longer. Slowly, cautiously, she raised her body into a crouching position,
then peered over the side of the vehicle. The guard was standing about a
hundred yards away in the middle of an open space. He was face to face with a
black man, standing about ten feet from him. The two were conferring, though
not a sound of their conversation was audible from where Lisa was. Beyond
them was a small rocky outcrop, and as she watched she saw a glint of metal
catch the sun, indicating where the rest of the ambushers were concealed. At
that moment the guard turned away from the other man, and the two of them
made their way back to their respective positions. When the guard stepped round the side of
the vehicle and lowered himself beside his friends his face was grim. They
began to talk in earnest, occasionally casting a glance toward their naked
captive, who watched them silently. Pakat soon joined in again, but this time
he seemed less inclined to argue, and at last gave a shrug and a nod and
reverted to silence once more. The guard who had done the parleying
crawled across to where Lisa crouched in the dust. He reached into his pocket
and pulled out a key. Then he undid her manacles and the shackles on her
legs. It was the first time she had been completely without bondage for some
time, and she felt suddenly very nervous. It was almost as if the chains had
been a sign of the men’s protection of her. Now they were gone she felt very
alone and isolated. The guard looked at Pakat, who scowled,
then turned to Lisa. “Go to them,” he said shortly. Lisa stared at him. “What..?” “Go. It’s you they want. This scum has
just traded our lives for you. Now get out there. You’re theirs now.” “But I can’t...” “Do not speak without permission,” he
thundered. “Now go!” Lisa looked at the faces of the four
men, but each dropped his eyes when they caught hers, and she sensed that
none was happy with what was happening. She hesitated, then a shot rang out
from the other side. “Go now!” ordered Pakat. “Before they
start firing again.” “Couldn’t I have some clothes?” “What’s the point? They’d strip you
naked in the first minute. Now get a move on.” Slowly Lisa rose to her feet. Now that her
manacles had been removed she was able to raise her head completely clear of
the side of the vehicle, giving her an unrestricted view across to where she
knew their ambushers to be concealed. The idea of handing herself over to
these strangers filled her with foreboding, the thought of doing it naked
doubling that fear. She turned to give a last despairing look at the four
men. Then, hugging her arm across her breasts and placing her palm flat
across her pubis, she stepped out from behind the Rover. She started to walk across to the
outcrop where she had seen the gleam of sunlight earlier. At first she could
see nobody, but as she drew closer she could discern faces peering between
the rocks, watching her as she approached. She wished desperately that she
was clothed, feeling pink and vulnerable in this open, exposed place, with
eyes on her from both in front and behind. She was very apprehensive indeed,
her footsteps faltering the closer she came to the men in whose power she was
about to fall. Suddenly she heard a shout. One of the
ambushers was waving his gun, beckoning her to approach him. He was over to
the right of the mound behind which the attackers were concealed and she
turned reluctantly toward him. As she came up to him she was able to
see his face for the first time. Like so many of the locals his skin was a
very dark black, his features Negroid, with flaring nostrils and a wide
mouth. He was wearing a tattered combat jacket, a sub machine gun cradled in
his arms. He said something to her and pointed behind him, indicating that
she should go round behind the rocks. She did so, glancing behind her as the
crashed vehicle disappeared from her view. Once behind them she could see the
ambush party for the first time. There were five of them, all dressed in a
motley assortment of combat gear, and each carrying one of the deadly looking
automatic weapons. Lisa stopped, staring uncertainly at them, her hands still
trying desperately to preserve her modesty as their eyes took her in. And
what a sight she knew she must make, her small, shapely body devoid of
clothes, only her hands covering her most private places as she tried
desperately to hide her swelling breasts and dark pubic thatch from their
eyes. One of the rebels rose to his feet and
walked towards her, and Lisa’s jaw dropped as she saw his face for the first
time. On his right cheek was carved a
depiction of a snake, with a cruel looking whip mark across the centre of its
body. Chapter
15 Lisa
couldn’t believe her eyes as she stared at the cruel-eyed man who Pakat had
driven off so brutally in the shop the day before. Then he had seemed
intimidating enough, but to be confronted by him alone like this was another
matter altogether, and she found herself cowering away as he walked toward her.
Her rearward progress was stopped, however, by a pair of hands which grasped
her arms from behind and she swung her head round to see one of the rebels
standing behind her. The man with the snake mark moved
closer, an evil grin on his face as he surveyed his captive. He barked an
order to the one that was holding her and he yanked her arms back, exposing
her charms to all. Lisa cast her eyes down as the man moved to no more than a
foot in front of her, but he grasped her chin and pulled her face up to stare
into his. He spoke a few words and Lisa shook her
head, indicating that she did not understand. “You make slave of my people,” he said
in a low voice. “Now white woman is my slave. Obey me, Okama, the general of
the rebels. What your name?” “Lisa.” “Ha!” he laughed, but there was
no humour in his eyes. “Lisa! Lisa who walks about shamelessly naked amongst
men. Lisa who gives pleasure to mere shopkeepers with her mouth in front of
others. Lisa not your name. Now your name Slut. That good name eh? Tell me
your name.” “Slut.” Smack! He brought the flat of his hand down
onto the soft swelling of her breast, making her cry out with pain and
leaving a red mark in the shape of his hand across her skin. “You call me Master!” he roared. “Too
long my people have to call yours master. Now things changed. On your knees,
Slut.” The man behind her released her arms and
Lisa dropped to her knees at once. She allowed her hands to dangle by her
side, afraid to cover her nakedness and incur his wrath still further. It was
rapidly becoming clear to her that Okama had a pathological hatred of her
kind, and she did not wish to upset him further. She wondered what it was
that left him hating her so much. She had read of the exploits of the
colonials in Africa, and some of the cruelty of their ways, as well as of the
lawlessness that prevailed in some of their countries. Now she felt a pang of
fear as she contemplated her situation. Obviously Okama saw her as some kind
of scapegoat. Someone who personified those settlers who had subdued his
people in the past. And she suspected he wasn’t about to treat her lightly, a
suspicion that was confirmed by his next words. “Tell me why I should not have you
whipped,” he said. “M-Master?” “You are my slave now. Tell me why I should
not whip you, Slut.” “I have done nothing wrong, Master.” “Your people took my land. They took my
cattle. They took my dignity.” “That was not me, Master.” “Hmm,” he cocked his head on one side. “You
are right of course. It was not you. I cannot beat you for your kinsmen’s
crimes.” “Thank you Master.” “So I shall beat you as an example to
your friends cowering behind the vehicle.” “Master?” “They shall see what happens when they
practice their trading in my country. And how we treat their merchandise.” He
took hold of her hair and pulled her head back. “And you will see what it is
to be maltreated simply because of the colour of your skin, Slut.” He shouted a few words, and the man
behind her dragged her to her feet. Another man joined him, and together they
began dragging her up the mound behind which they had been hiding. Lisa
struggled with them, entreating them to spare her, but her words fell on deaf
ears, and they were more than a match for her feeble efforts at escape. At
the top of the slope was a tree, weathered and twisted with age, and it was
to this that she found herself being dragged. As they came over the brow she could see
the Land Rover once more, and could discern the mens’ eyes as they peered
across at the scene before them. She wondered that the rebels had the
audacity to show themselves to their foe so openly, but she guessed that
Pakat’s men wouldn’t risk taking a shot at the rebels as long as they had
her. Besides, these men held all the cards. They were on home territory, and
could stay where they were for days, whilst the men behind the vehicle were
exposed on three flanks and an easy target should the rebels decide to attack
once more. The men took her up to the tree and
pushed her against it. The bark was dry and rough, and chafed against her
bare skin as they made her hug it close. The trunk was about fifteen inches
in diameter, and was an odd shape, rising vertically for about three feet,
then bending over at an angle. A branch had long ago snapped off at the point
where it bent, leaving a knobbly protrusion, and it was against this that she
found her crotch resting as the men pulled her ankles apart and began to wrap
rope about them. They tied her fast, her arms wrapped
about the trunk, fastened at the wrist and then pulled upward, the end of the
rope secured to a branch above her on the opposite side. Stakes were banged
into the ground about a yard apart at the foot of the tree and her ankles
roped to them. Finally a length of rope was wrapped twice round the trunk and
her waist, then pulled tight, holding her body fast against the tree’s
surface. Lisa craned her neck round to stare at
her captors. They were standing back and admiring her body, trapped as it
was, slightly bent over, her backside pressed back by the lump in the surface
so that its naked curves were beautifully presented to them. She wondered at
the sight she must make from behind, her legs spread so wide that she knew
her sex would be visible to them, and that she was helpless to prevent them
caressing her in that most intimate place should the mood take them. And it was that thought that began the
first stirrings within her. It was an odd sensation. She was afraid,
certainly. Terrified almost. After all she was completely nude, brutally tied
and in the control of Okama, and it was he who had decreed she was to be
bound like this. But it was the very presence of the bonds that gave the
spark to her arousal and started her too fertile imagination speculating on
what might happen to her. She tried to shift her position, and succeeded only
in rubbing her nipples against the bark, sending a sudden sensation of
pleasure through her body and causing them to pucker into brown protruding
knobs that were at once twice as sensitive. Then she became aware of the hard lump
that was in direct contact with her clitoris. The spread of her thighs forced
her already hard bud out from the folds of her sex lips and caused it to rub
against the protrusion. It was almost as if the tree had been designed to
give pleasure to one such as herself, and she bit her lip to suppress a moan
as ripples of pleasure began to emanate from this centre of her desire and
spread through her naked body. Then she saw the whip. The handle was thick, so that it fitted
snugly into the man’s hand. It was made of some kind of horn, probably cut
from one of the antelopes she had seen on the plains. From it sprouted a
number of thin leather cords, starting about the thickness of a pencil and
tapering off along its twenty or twenty-five inches of length to a knotted
end, each knot about the size of a pea. The man draped the whip over her
shoulder, and she discovered that the ends were weighted, hanging down almost
vertically despite the thickness of each strand. She shivered as the smooth
leather travelled down her spine and over her backside. One of the weights
brushed against her anus, then slipped down the crack and rested against her
sex lips, causing the muscles to contract and trapping it momentarily in the
entrance to her vagina. She glanced across at Okama, who was watching, and
her face reddened as she realised he had seen this evidence of her arousal. Then he barked out an order, and the man
drew back his arm. Crack! The leather came down high on her back,
the strands cutting into her flesh whilst the ends struck her flank with
amazing force, like a dozen sudden beestings in her tender skin. The pain was
excruciating, and she clenched her teeth in an effort to suppress the cry of
pain that had sprung to her lips. Crack! This time the man had moved back
slightly, so that the fierce little knobs beat a tattoo of agony across the
centre of her back. The whip had been cunningly designed so that no strand
was of precisely the same length as any of the others, meaning that the ends
spread in a pattern across her flesh, each one a separate source of pain. Crack! Once again he had shifted his position
and had found another patch of virgin skin on which to inflict a criss-cross
of stripes. His aim was clearly deliberate, the blows striking just below her
shoulders so that her upper body began to be infused with a flush of redness. Crack! Crack! Crack! He worked with a steady rhythm, each
stroke falling on white flesh that immediately reddened under the searing
impact. The pain was agonising. Tears flowed down Lisa’s cheeks as she hugged
the tree. She pressed her body harder and harder against it as if she wanted
it to open and swallow her up, protecting her from her cruel tormentors. Crack! Crack! Crack! He had moved down to the small of her
back now, the ends of the whip catching her just above the swell of her
behind. Her whole back felt as if it was on fire, as if a million sharp
points were being pressed into her flesh, their ends glowing red hot. Crack! He had moved on yet again, this time
targeting the tops of her legs, the shorter strands whipping round and
burning into her upper thighs. The man was clearly an expert at what he was
doing, the anticipation of where the next blow would fall almost as agonising
as the dreadful pain when it did. Crack! Crack! Crack! Even her calves and ankles did not
escape the lash as he laid down the stripes with meticulous care. Lisa knew
that only her backside was untouched now, and she imagined how it must look,
the whiteness of her rear globes in stark contrast to the bright red of her
upper and lower body. Then he touched her behind with the strands. Crack! This time the blow fell squarely across
the cheeks of her arse, the ends wrapping round and peppering her thigh. Crack! He had moved no more than an inch
further over, so that the marks overlapped, doubling the pain that coursed
through the agonised girl. The force of these blows was tremendous, much more
than those on her back and legs, thrusting her body forward against the tree. And that was when Lisa was reminded of
the knobbly protrusion against which her crotch was pressed. Until now she had almost forgotten the
stirrings in her body. But now that the punishment was suddenly concentrated
on her bare behind, she was again reminded of her lack of modesty, and of the
eyes that were on her naked flesh. Crack! Suddenly her mind became concentrated on
the small, pink bud of flesh between her legs as it rubbed against the rough
wood, and at once she felt her juices flow anew at the delicious stimulation
this contact brought. A soft moan escaped her lips, the first sound she had
made since the beating had begun. Crack! Crack! Crack! Each blow brought a new charge of lust
as her crotch ground down against the protrusion. Her breasts too were being
wonderfully stimulated by the bark against which they were pressed. And
somehow the stinging of her raw backside seemed to redouble the pleasure that
the contact was giving, so that every lash of the whip heightened her arousal
still further. Crack! Crack! Crack! The relentless rain of blows continued,
as did Lisa’s perverse pleasure. Her clitoris felt twice its size, and she
knew that the wetness that welled inside her was leaking onto the tree so
that her slit was able to slide back and forth more easily. Crack! Crack! Crack! “Stop!” Lisa barely heard the order, or realised
that her punishment was at an end. She was too taken with her own stimulation,
her hips pumping back and forth as she pressed her love bud hard down against
the unyielding wood. She glanced sideways at Okama, who stood watching her, a
grin splitting his features as the full extent of her arousal became
apparent. She wanted to stop then. She wanted to deny them the opportunity of
seeing the effect their treatment was having on her. But she couldn’t. Her
orgasm was too close. She came with a scream, her red backside
jabbing hard against the tree, as if she was impaled upon a thick cock and
matching her seducer’s strokes with her own. She clung hard to the trunk as
her wanton passions took over and she allowed the full passion of her climax
to erupt. The whole tree shook back and forth with the force of her
gyrations. It was fully two minutes before she was
finally still, hanging panting by her wrists, suddenly completely drained,
her face scarlet as she contemplated the exhibition she had made of herself.
She barely noticed as the men began to untie her ankles, but when her wrists
were freed she found herself staggering as she tried to steady herself on her
shaky legs. The pain was returning too, the back of her body stinging
agonisingly from neck to ankle, with barely an inch of her naked flesh
untouched by the whip. As she found her balance she glanced
down at the tree. There, at the point where it bent forward, was a wide stain
of damp; a silver trickle running down almost to the ground. She glanced
sideways to see that Okama too was examining the spot. He turned to her and
ran his eyes up and down her body. “I think Slut is a very good name, don’t
you?” he said Chapter
16 The
rebel party and their lovely young captive slipped away from their vantage
point just as dusk was beginning to envelop the countryside. Lisa’s hands
were secured behind her back with a piece of rope, and another tied to a ring
in her collar. One of her captors took hold of the other end, and she was
forced to follow as they marched away in single file. At first they moved from cover to cover,
clearly not wishing their adversaries to know that they had quit their
vantage point. But, as darkness fell and the distance between them and the
crashed vehicle increased, they allowed themselves greater freedom of
movement until at last they were following a well worn path through the bush. They walked in silence, two men in front
of the naked girl, two more behind, those behind carrying thin, whippy sticks
that they employed freely on Lisa’s bare behind whenever she showed any signs
of lagging. Meanwhile Okama roved about them, sometimes in the lead,
sometimes taking up the rear. Now and again he would give an order in a low
voice and some subtle change of course would follow. All about them were the
sounds of the African night, the chirping of crickets, the trill of bullfrogs
and the occasional distant roar of some much larger animal. Lisa walked in silence. The pain
inflicted by the beating was no more than a dull ache now, though the
slightest flick from the sticks carried by the men behind her was enough to
remind her of the sting of the lash. Her mind was filled by thoughts of her
behaviour that afternoon, and of the exhibition she had made of herself. She
thought of Pakat and his band. They must have witnessed the whole thing. What
must they think of her now? It was as if her body and her mind were too
separate entities, the one retaining the modest decorum of Lisa Carling
whilst the other was the naked, wanton young woman that Okama called Slut.
And somehow, in this alien environment, kept bound and forcibly naked, it was
Slut’s character that seemed to be coming to the fore. Even now she knew that
her nipples were erect and her sex lubricated by the sheer eroticism of her
situation. They walked for more than two hours
before they saw the lights ahead. From a distance they looked no brighter
than the stars above, but as they drew nearer, Lisa realised that it was a
village they were approaching, not unlike the one in which they had filled-up
with fuel the day before. At the sight of it, she tried to hang back, but a
couple of hefty whacks across her backside forced her to maintain the same
pace as the others. All of a sudden the path they were on
widened and crossed a much larger track. This was rutted with wheel marks and
clearly led straight to the village. The group turned left onto the new track
and headed directly toward the lights. The paths along which they had been
walking up to now had been worn smooth by countless walkers and had been
relatively easy on Lisa’s bare feet. This new track was much rougher,
however, the vehicles having worn the surface down to the rock beneath, so
that Lisa found it much harder going. Her captors were unsympathetic, though,
simply tugging harder at her lead every time she stumbled or lost her footing
whilst the sticks of the men behind once again found their mark. They were in sight of the habitation
now, and Lisa could discern the buildings. They were almost identical to
those she had encountered with Pakat’s band the day before; featureless two
storey piles with flat roofs surrounded by the huts of the local people. Once
again she was filled with trepidation as she drew closer, only too aware of
her nudity, and of the marks of her punishment all over her rear. Suddenly Okama gave an order and the men
stopped. He spoke a few more words, and then turned to Lisa. “Many Arabics in this place,” he said.
“Not safe to go in by this road. They see you, they tell those bastards back
there. We go round side. Understand?” “Yes Master.” He grinned, his teeth gleaming in the
moonlight. “You learn quick who is boss,” he said.
“You make good slave I think, Slut.” They turned off the track and plunged
into the bush, dragging Lisa with them. She had to be all the more careful as
they weaved their way through the undergrowth. With her hands trapped behind
her she was obliged to duck and weave to avoid scratching her bare flesh on
the branches that overhung their route. They picked their way through the
undergrowth for about ten minutes before joining a narrow path. This wound around
the village before taking a turn to the right. A light appeared up ahead and
the sound of music reached Lisa’s ears. African music, all twanging guitars
and male voices in harmony. The more they walked the louder the music became,
until they turned a corner in the track and were confronted by a building. Like all the other buildings she had
seen, this one was quite small, only two storeys high. The ground floor was
ablaze with lights that shone through the barred windows against which moths
were hurling themselves in a suicidal manner. Outside was a small neon sign
depicting a bottle of beer and the words ‘Ndwenga’s Bar’ underneath. As they
approached a door opened, momentarily increasing the volume of the sound. A
man staggered out, clearly drunk, and wove off down the path towards them. At
the sight of the naked girl he stopped, staring in amazement before
staggering to one side and allowing them through. Lisa eyed the bar fearfully. Surely they
weren’t intending to take her in there? Not nude? It was unthinkable. Even
from here she could hear the loud, raucous laughter and the tuneless singing
from the patrons. It was the sort of place she wouldn’t have dreamt of
visiting any time, let alone as the naked captive of these men. She tried to hold back, shaking her
head, but a couple of hefty whacks drove her forward. “What is the matter, Slut?” Okama asked. “That place. I can’t go in there. Not
like this.” “Why not?” “I’m completely naked.” He laughed. “Of course. You are a slave.
You have no right to wear clothes.” “Please. Couldn’t I have something to
cover me?” He shook his head. “Your ancestors
allowed my people to go about naked whilst they wore fine clothes,” he said.
“Now it is our turn. Besides, you will be an interesting thing for the men in
there. Many of them have never seen a naked European woman. Your white
breasts and black hair below will be new to them.” He shoved Lisa forward. They were right
outside the building now and the light from the window illuminated her body,
causing a few figures to emerge from the gloom to stare at her. “In!” One of the men held open the door whilst
Okama pushed her forward. She staggered in and found herself in a small
entrance hall, a bright light shining on her from above. On the wall opposite
was a mirror. In better days this had clearly been designed for those
arriving to adjust their dress after their journey, though now it was cracked
and badly in need of a clean. Lisa stared at her reflection. She looked very
small and pale beside the tall black men who escorted her, a fact that simply
served to draw attention to her. She glanced down at her full, firm breasts
and the hard upturned nipples which, with her hands tied behind her, seemed
to invite the caress of any passing man. Her eyes dropped to her crotch,
where the lips of her sex showed prominently, and an odd sinking feeling
suddenly filled her stomach as she thought of the men in the bar who were
about to see her like this. Then the door was opened, and taking a deep
breath, she stepped inside. The atmosphere in the bar was thick with
smoke, the smell strangely sweet to Lisa’s nostrils. The noise of the music
was almost overpowering, made more so by the necessity of the customers to
shout above it. At first the patrons continued their chatter, then one by one
they spotted the party that had just entered and the conversation died. Lisa stared about her. The bar’s decor,
if that was the right word, could only be described as functional. The floor
was bare and felt hard and smooth against her feet. The tables were simple
metal affairs with Formica tops, and all were laden with beer bottles. The
light in the room was provided by a series of strip lights in the ceiling,
some of which were flickering where the strip needed replacing. The walls had
once been white, but were stained brown by the effects of years of cigarette
smoke. They were hung with old advertisements for beer and cigarettes,
equally stained and tatty from neglect. The bar itself was at the far end, a
spartan affair with a mirror behind and beer crates stacked on the floor. The
music came from a pair of speakers set above the bar. As Lisa gazed about her
the sound was shut off, leaving the place suddenly silent. All eyes were upon Lisa and her gun
toting companions. Okama stepped forward to a table and gave a gesture. At
once the men who had been sitting round it rose to their feet and moved to
the other side of the room. Clearly Okama was a man to be reckoned with
around here, a fact that gave Lisa a little comfort as she thought of her own
total vulnerability. Okama sat down, along with his cohorts,
leaving Lisa standing beside the table. There was an air of tension in the
room, and Lisa sensed the others were trying to gauge the rebels’ mood. Then
Okama pointed a finger at the naked girl and made a remark. At once the room
was filled with laughter, the men winking at one another and making lewd
gestures that needed no translation. The music came on again, and the men
began to chatter once more. Okama raised a finger in the air, and the barman
hurried to him. Okama spoke to the man, whose eyes were fixed on Lisa’s
crotch as he listened. An astonished look came to his face, then he grinned
and nodded vigorously. Okama beckoned to the girl. “Mr Ndwenga is short of help today,” he
said. “So you must be waiter.” “Me?” “Turn and I will take off your ropes.
You cannot serve like that.” Lisa stood, momentarily unable to move
as she took in what he was suggesting. “Turn!” This time there was no mistaking the
authority in Okama’s voice, and Lisa obeyed at once, turning her back on the
crowd and revealing to them the stripes that covered her back and behind,
bringing a murmur of interest from those watching. Okama freed her hands quickly. She
stood, rubbing her wrists as he detached the lead from her collar. Then he
turned back to Ndwenga and nodded. The man took her arm and led her red-faced
to the bar. He gave her a tray, and at once sent her
back to where Okama and his men were awaiting her. Lisa made her way across
the room to where the men were sitting, trying hard to avoid the hands that
reached out on all sides to grope her behind. She stopped at their table. “Yes Master?” she said quietly. “Beers,” he said shortly. “And be
quick.” She turned and ran the gauntlet back to
the bar once more, twisting and turning to stay out of reach of the other
drinkers. By the time she arrived the barman already had the bottles and
glasses on the bar. Lisa placed her tray on the surface and loaded the drinks
onto it. Then she lifted it up and turned back into the room. It was only then that she realised how
vulnerable carrying the tray made her. It was as bad as having her hands
tied, as it took all her concentration to keep the tray level. This fact was
not lost on the others in the room. Almost at once she felt a hand caress her
backside, squeezing the firm flesh. Another ran up the inside of her thigh,
brushing against the very lips of her sex and making her gasp as the man’s
fingers traced the length of her slit. She squeezed her way between two tables,
trying hard to concentrate on not dropping her burden as a large black hand
closed over her breast, squeezing it crudely. Another hand was at her crotch
now, the fingers trying to force themselves inside her. She broke free with an
effort, finally arriving at Okama’s table, her face flushed with the ordeal. She placed the tray on the table top and
began to unload the drinks. As she bent forward she felt strong fingers slide
down the crack of her behind and seek out her sex. She gave a sharp intake of
breath as a single digit pressed its way into her vagina. Lisa’s mind was in confusion. To be
naked here in this bar full of dark-skinned strangers was bad enough, but to
be forced to parade back and forth at their beck and call was something else.
And yet despite her shame she could feel the familiar stirrings within her
that always seemed to accompany this public humiliation, and the sensation of
the finger sliding into her most intimate place, clearly visible to all,
brought a gasp from her as she struggled to keep her backside from pressing
down against the intruding digit. With shaking hands she laid out the last
of the drinks, then straightened up, giving a little sigh as the man’s hand left
her already burning crotch. Then an arm went up on the other side of the room
and her ordeal began anew as she pushed her way between the tables. Lisa worked on for more than two hours
in the bar, serving the drinks and enduring the constant attention of the men
she was attending. At every table she visited, hands would reach for her
naked, unprotected flesh, squeezing her breasts and rubbing her swollen
clitoris. And the more she worked, the more aroused she became, her body
fairly alive with excitement at the treatment she was receiving. It was at
once the most humiliating and the most exciting experience of her life, to be
running about in this scruffy little bar, showing all and allowing the
patrons to touch her as and when they liked. Soon her sex was positively
awash with love juice, her clitoris protruding from the folds of her sex and
glistening in the bright light, proof to all of how turned on she was. There were women in the bar as well. At
first she hadn’t noticed, but as she visited each table in turn she started
to notice them. They would glare at her as their men toyed with her charms,
clearly unimpressed with the way the young white girl flaunted her body
before their men. Some would pinch her viciously when they could get close
enough, while on more than one occasion she was spat upon, much to the
amusement of the men. At Okama’s table the men were clearly
beginning to show the effects of the beer they had drunk, though Okama
himself drank a lot less and continued to appear alert. A pack of cards had
been produced from somewhere and a noisy game commenced, bottle tops being
used as chips. Lisa continued to serve them at regular intervals as the
hilarity at the table grew. All of a sudden there was a shout and a
bang as a hand of cards was slapped down on the table. Heads turned
throughout the room to see that one of the rebels was smiling triumphantly
down at a large pile of bottle tops, whilst his friends looked on with envy.
At that point, Okama’s voice rang out. “Slut! Come here.” Lisa laid down the last of the bottles
on the table she was serving and made her way across to the table. She
stopped in front of Okama, expecting an order for more drinks. Instead he sat
back and examined her. His face was level with her crotch, and
she knew he could clearly see the pinkness of her sex lips and the sheen of
moisture that covered them; small droplets gleaming in the dark thatch of her
pubic bush. His eyes travelled up to her breasts, the nipples rock hard and
projecting upwards. He grinned at her. “You make good waiter,” he said. “Thank you Master.” “You think you make good whore as well?” Lisa wasn’t sure if she had heard
correctly. “Master?” “That man,” he indicated the one who had
won the card game. “He has all the chips as you see. Now he wishes to claim
his prize. Do you know what the prize is?” “No Master.” Lisa was genuinely puzzled. “It is you of course, Slut. He has won
your body. It is time for you to earn your keep in a new way, but one to
which you are suited.” Lisa’s jaw dropped, and she stared at
Okama, then across at the man, whose grin was unabated. She couldn’t believe
what she was hearing. She was to prostitute herself for a mere game of cards.
Give herself to this strange black man like a common whore. No, not like a
common whore, she reflected bitterly. Whores were paid for what they did. She
was no more than a slave, and would give herself for nothing. Give herself for nothing! The very words
sent a shudder of excitement through her as she gazed at the man seated opposite
her, his eyes fixed on the swell of her firm young breasts. He raised a
finger and crooked it. Lisa hesitated for a second. Then, her heart hammering
against her chest, she made her way round the table towards him. By now everyone in the room was aware of
what was happening. The music had been turned off once more, leaving a
strange silence, and all eyes followed the naked girl as she approached the
man to whom she was being given. Lisa kept her eyes cast down, unable to meet
those of the grinning men who nudged one another as they watched her. Her
face was scarlet as she stopped in front of him, planting her legs slightly
apart and allowing her arms to dangle at her sides. He raised a hand and ran it up the
smooth, silky skin of her inner thigh, sending a tremor through her slim
frame as it travelled higher toward the very centre of her lust. “Ah!” She had meant to remain silent, but when
his fingers found her slit and ran over her hard, wet little love bud the
reaction was automatic, and she knew that everyone in the room had heard her
exclamation and seen the way her hips had thrust forward at his touch. Her
entire body seemed to be tingling with anticipation now, and she suddenly
realised how badly she wanted to be fucked. Somehow it didn’t seem to matter
that her ravisher would be this scruffy, dark-skinned man who she barely knew
and who simply desired to pleasure himself inside her. All she wanted was to
be taken and fucked, though she hoped they at least would be allowed some
privacy. The man rose from his chair and grasped
her arm, nodding towards the door. She walked quietly beside him as he took
her across the room, still unable to face the people at the tables who nudged
and winked at one another, shouting lewd remarks at him which he acknowledged
with a grin. Lisa allowed herself to be led out of
the front door of the bar. Outside it was warm and muggy, but it felt good to
escape the smoky atmosphere, and she breathed in the air gratefully. As she
stepped onto the hard ground she turned to him, her eyebrows raised
questioningly, and he pointed to a pile of beer crates that were stacked
beside the building. He led her across to them. They were
plastic crates full of empty bottles and they were stacked to a height of
about three feet. He took her by the shoulders and turned her round, so that
she was facing him. Over her shoulder, Lisa could see the faces that peered
from the windows of the bar, and the others who had followed them out and
were standing by the door. So she was to be publicly fucked after all. She
had hoped that he at least might take her into the bush before ravishing her,
but it clearly was not to be. He pressed her back and she felt the
cold hard plastic of the crates against the back of her legs and the cheeks
of her backside. He continued to press and she allowed herself to fall
backwards so that she was lying across the crates, the cold bottle tops
digging into her back. Then he took hold of her knees and dragged them wide
apart. Lisa gazed down between her breasts. She
was open to him now, her sex gaping, the pinkness inside visible to him and
all the onlookers. She eyed the man. He was tall and strong, with brawny arms
and a broad chest. As she watched, his hands dropped to his fly and he began
to undo it. The prostrate girl could barely suppress
a gasp as she caught sight of his long, black tool. It seemed huge to her,
standing stiffly from his trousers. When he saw her expression the man
grinned, grasping it at the base and slapping the insides of her thighs with
its heavy end, much to the amusement of the onlookers. Lisa licked her lips
as she contemplated what was about to happen to her, a public rogering by
this great black stranger, with nobody raising so much as a finger to help
her. She caught sight of one of the women amongst the sea of faces, her face
twisted in a look of disdain as she watched the scene unfold. “Oh!” Lisa’s body jumped as the thick bulbous
glans slid over her sex, the tip shining with her moisture. He ran his hands
up the inside of her thighs, their dark colour contrasting with the milky
whiteness of her skin. She groaned as his thumbs found her sex,
forcing the lips apart as they delved inside. Then she felt the end of his
tool pressing against the entrance to her vagina. “Ahhh!” She cried aloud as he slipped inside
her, his massive erection ramming deep within, burying itself to the hilt.
Lisa had never felt so filled. He seemed to be stretching her to the very
limit, and the sensation was delicious. Then he began to thrust, his backside
jabbing forward as he took her. His thrusts were hard, each one shaking her
body and rattling the bottles in the crates beneath her. She came on the fourth stroke. She
couldn’t help it. All of a sudden the exposure, maltreatment and humiliation
that had kept her so completely turned on for the last few hours seemed to
combine to force the most exquisite climax as she lay there, spread wide and
naked, impaled on the cock of this indifferent stranger, whose name she
didn’t even know. Screams of pleasure rent the air as she was engulfed by
lust, her head shaking from side to side, her breasts bouncing back and forth
as he continued to fuck her. The large dark man’s hips worked back
and forth with considerable power, each stroke sending a new wave of pleasure
through the wanton girl. The intensity of her orgasm had abated now, but she
could feel another building, and she pressed her pubis up against his,
willing him to climax, no longer caring about her lasciviousness or the sight
she must make sprawled across the beer crates. All of a sudden his rhythm changed. His
grip on her thighs stiffened. She glanced at his face. His eyes were closed,
his lips drawn back over his teeth, and a hoarse grunting sound came from his
throat. Then he was coming, his cock twitching
violently within her as he unleashed his semen deep inside. The sensation was
too much for Lisa. Another violent orgasm shook her small frame as she
thrashed about beneath him, a long, drawn out wail escaping from her lips. The climax went on and on. The man’s
thighs crashed against her own as he emptied his seed into her. She
reciprocated every stroke with a jab of her own hips, determined to milk
every drop from him. Then, when at last there seemed to be no more, she
gradually allowed herself to relax, lowering her backside onto the crates,
her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she regained her breath. He took a step back, his cock slipping
from her, and began to tuck himself into his pants. Lisa raised her head and
watched as he turned and made his way back into the bar. Painfully she eased herself off the hard
crates and stood up, shivering slightly as she felt a trickle of semen leak
from her sex. For a moment she was alone and untethered, and she turned to
gaze at the track that led away from the awful bar and into the blackness of
the African night. Did she dare take her chance and make a run for it? Then
she looked up at the windows and caught Okama’s eye, and she knew he was
aware of her thoughts. She gave a sigh, and turned back toward
the bar. In front of her, the crowd of grinning men parted, and the red-faced
girl made her way up the steps behind her erstwhile lover, back into the
custody of her captors. Chapter
17 Lisa
spent that night in a room above the bar, on a small metal bed, her wrists
bound together and tied to the bedhead, her ankles secured to the two bottom
corners. Okama himself saw to her bonds, checking them carefully, and running
a hand over her breasts, smiling as he saw the nipples harden. Then he left her,
closing the door and locking it. Lisa was left alone with her thoughts.
The bed was uncomfortable, the old springs making lumps in the thin, dank
smelling mattress. She lay for some time, staring at the bars in the window,
contemplating her position. Everything seemed to have happened so quickly.
Only a few days before she had been a simple programmer, living a day-to-day
existence in London. Now here she was, the naked slave of a group of
dark-skinned strangers in a country completely foreign to her. She thought of
the way she had been forced to behave, and the shameful acts she had been
made to perform. She gazed down at her body, her skin glowing white in the
pale moonlight, and she thought of the big man’s cock violating her. Why was
it that her body reacted as it did? Why was she unable to control her desires
like other women could? She gave a sigh and lowered her head again, closing
her eyes. She must have dozed off, though she had
no idea for how long. All she knew was that a sound had wakened her, and her
eyes opened. For a moment she could see nothing. Then
she discerned the figure standing at the foot of the bed. It was a man, tall
and dark, clad in a sort of dressing gown. As he came closer she recognised
Ndwenga, the bar owner. He was staring down at her, and as he did so his gown
fell apart and she saw his massive erection projecting from his groin. Lisa’s mind was a whirl. What was he
doing? Did Okama know he was here? She feared punishment if he was to find
out she had been allowing this man to touch her without his knowledge. Yet if
she cried out or made a fuss she equally risked incurring his wrath. She lay
still and quiet as the man settled down on the bed beside her and placed a
hand on her stomach. He ran his fingers up over her ribs and
found her breasts, his hands kneading them roughly and pinching the nipples
painfully. His other hand went to her crotch, his middle finger worming its
way into her vagina, making her moan aloud as he twisted it back and forth. He stood again and shrugged off the
gown. Lisa stared at his silhouette, his rampant tool even more prominent
now. He spoke to her, his voice low, but she couldn’t understand him. She
understood his intentions though as he straddled her waist and began moving
up her body, his hand holding his cock as he approached her face. He grabbed Lisa by the hair, pulling her
head up from the mattress. At the same time he guided his erection towards
her mouth. For a second she resisted as he pressed it against her pursed
lips. Then he tightened his grip on her hair and she surrendered to him,
opening her mouth and allowing him to shove his manhood inside. He pressed it all the way in, until the
glans was against the back of her throat, making her choke momentarily. She
drew back slightly, and knowing she had no choice, closed her lips about his
shaft and began to suck. The man began to fuck her face with vigour, his
thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth while the helpless girl sucked
hard at it. Then, unexpectedly, Lisa found herself
aroused once more, the presence of the man’s erection inside her mouth and
the banging of his heavy balls against her chin igniting those desires that
never seemed far from the surface since her capture. The taste and smell of
him so close seemed to spur her on and she began to lick at him as he pressed
ever harder against her. She gave a little groan, her hips starting to gyrate
as he thrust himself in and out. She found herself imagining that it was her
vagina he was penetrating, not her mouth, and she pressed her pubis forward,
the lips of her sex convulsing as if about an actual cock. But she wasn’t to receive the release
she required. All at once Ndwenga gave a grunt and his cock pulsated, sending
a gush of semen into Lisa’s mouth. He came quickly, his spunk squirting from
him in short, sharp spurts that she gulped down, barely able to swallow, so
full was her mouth. When he had shot his load he withdrew at once, leaving
Lisa writhing frustrated on the bed, her hips thrusting up at him. She was of
no interest to him any more though, and she saw that his member was already
detumescing as he wrapped the gown about him once more. She gave another faint, plaintive moan,
but already he was heading for the door, and it was an intensely frustrated
Lisa who watched it close behind him and heard the key turn in the lock,
leaving her alone with her fantasies. It took Lisa some time before she
finally managed to drop off again, her head filled with erotic images, but
eventually she drifted into a troubled sleep. It was still dark when she was woken by
the sound of the door opening and one of Okama’s men coming in. He undid her
bonds without a word and pulled her to her feet. She was barely allowed time
to stretch her delicious young body and massage the feeling back into her
limbs before he had hold of her arm and was leading her back down to the bar
again. When she entered the room Okama was
seated at one of the tables with his men about him. Lisa was shown to a
chair, then Ndwenga emerged from a door at the back with a bowl of steaming
gruel in his hands which he put down in front of her. He did not catch her
eye, and she glanced across at Okama, who was talking earnestly with the man
beside him. She wondered again if he knew of Ndwenga’s nocturnal visit. She decided
he probably didn’t because of the way the man had chosen to fuck her mouth.
Had he come in her vagina, the evidence would have been there for all to see. She turned her attention to the gruel.
There was no cutlery and she was forced to drink it straight from the bowl.
It was thin and watery, with a salty taste, but it was warm and she drank it
down hungrily, chewing and swallowing the small pieces of meat and vegetable
she found at the bottom. “Your fun last night made you hungry,
Slut,” said Okama with amusement. She did not reply, staring down at her
bowl and wishing there was some way to cover her breasts, which jutted over
the table top in what seemed to her a very conspicuous way. The men talked on for about another ten
minutes, then Okama rose to his feet. This was a signal for the others to
follow suit, and Lisa did the same. The man beside her grasped her arms and
pressed her forward over the table. For a moment she thought she was about to
be fucked, and spread her legs apart in anticipation. Then she felt the
familiar sensation of the rope being wrapped about her wrists, and her face
reddened as she caught Okama’s eye, knowing he had read her thoughts. “No more now, Slut,” he said. “Later, if
you are good, you will feel a cock inside you, as I see you desire. Now we
must be moving.” Once her wrists were secure, a second
length of rope was used to bind her elbows together, thrusting her breasts
forward in a way that made her blush. Then Okama reached into a bag and
pulled something out. “There is much walking to do today,” he
said. “Take these.” He threw the objects down at Lisa’s feet
and she stared at them. It was a pair of open leather sandals. She slipped
them on, gratefully. The previous day’s trek had been hard on her feet, and
that had mainly been over soft sand. She knew she would have been in trouble
had they encountered a harder surface for any distance. She wished he would
offer her something more, though. The simplest of loincloths would have been
preferable to being forced to walk about with her breasts, sex and behind in
full view of anyone she encountered. Okama went to the door and pushed it
open. The first rays of the dawn were beginning to filter through the trees
outside, and the air felt chill against Lisa’s naked skin. She shivered
slightly as she stepped through the door. Outside the place was deserted. Okama
led the way down the path away from the bar, past the pile of beer crates on
which Lisa had been so publicly rogered the evening before, and on into the
bush. By the time it was fully light they were
some distance from the village, following a dusty track through the trees.
They walked at a fast pace, for which Lisa was grateful since it soon began
to warm her up. Once clear of the trees they headed in single file out across
a broad plain towards a low range of hills in the distance. For the next two hours they progressed
in silence as the sun climbed slowly into the sky. They encountered nobody,
for which Lisa was grateful. She maintained a good pace, all thoughts of
escape or rebellion having faded from her mind for the time being. She
followed her captors obediently, rendering the whips unnecessary, much to her
relief. By midday the group was nearly at the
foot of the hills which rose up steeply before them. They were very high,
mountains almost, with rocky outcrops. It was from one of these that Lisa’s
eye was suddenly caught by something glinting in the sunlight. She squinted upwards. There was somebody
up there. A figure standing, partially concealed by the rocks. She glanced
across at Okama, but he seemed unworried, leading them forward to a gap
between two particularly high pinnacles. It wasn’t until they were almost on top
of the rebel camp that Lisa saw it. It consisted of a motley set of low, mud
structures surrounding a wide open area. The rebels themselves were seated at
the entrances to the huts, or deployed about the area with large rifles slung
over their shoulders. At the sight of Okama’s band a shout went up and they
moved forward, crowding around the small group. The sight of Lisa brought many of them
up short in amazement. They gathered around the naked girl, chattering and
pointing, their faces split by broad grins. Lisa stood still, her eyes cast
down, wishing she had at least the use of her hands to cover herself from the
many eyes that now stared at her body. They made their way to the edge of the
open area where some logs had been set in a square. There Okama and his men
sat down with some of the other rebels, whilst Lisa was made to stand behind
her master, still very much the centre of attention from the rest of the men.
She wondered if they had ever seen a white woman naked before. Certainly they
were fascinated by the sight, pointing at her breasts and crouching for a
better view of her sex, A lively discussion began, the group on
the logs talking earnestly together. Someone appeared from one of the huts
with a crate of beer. He went around the group, handing a bottle to each.
When he reached Okama, Lisa saw him pause and speak a few words, all the time
looking in her direction. Okama listened, then shrugged and nodded his head.
Then he turned to Lisa. “Why did you surrender yourself to
Ndwenga so easily last night?” he asked. “I-I thought you had sent him, Master,”
she stammered, completely caught off guard by the question. “I had not. Yet you took him into your
mouth like a common whore, sucking his seed from him. Then this morning you
were ready to give yourself again.” “This morning Master?” “When that man pushed you over the table.
You offered him your cunt like some monkey on heat.” Lisa hung her head, unable to find an
answer. “I am your Master now,” he went on. “You
will only give yourself when I order it. Do you understand, Slut?” “Yes Master.” “The men wish to witness a punishment,
and because of your behaviour I have agreed. Do you understand?” Lisa’s heart sank. “Yes Master.” Suddenly she felt hands grasping her
arms and pressing her forward. She resisted for a second, then allowed
herself to be led across to where a lone tree stood at the edge of the open
area. It was typical of the trees she had seen from the Rover the day before,
with wide branches and a strangely flat top, as if it had been cut short
halfway up. As she came closer she noted something else unusual about the
tree. All about its trunk were dangerous looking thorns, some as much as six
inches long, tapering to a needle sharp tip. The thorns covered the trunk
completely, making it impossible to place anything thicker than a single
finger between them. As they reached the tree, Lisa was
brought to a halt by the men and she felt hands fumbling with the ropes at
her wrists and elbows. Once these were freed she was made to stand with her
back to the tree, the thorns almost touching her bare flesh. They used the
rope to secure her wrists at her front. Then they dragged her arms up and she
noticed for the first time a metal ring set into the tree about a foot above
her head. It was to this that they tied her arms, forcing them up over her
head and obliging her to arch her back to avoid the sharp prongs of the
thorns which brushed against her bare skin. More ropes were brought and tied around
her ankles. These were then attached to stakes driven into the ground on
either side of the tree. It was only once these were in place that the men
stood back to admire their captive. Lisa was in a most extraordinary
position. The way in which her hands and feet were positioned meant that she
was forced to thrust her chest and pubis forward in order to avoid the cruel
spikes at her back. Standing thus, with her legs spread apart, she gave the
impression of one offering herself to the men, pressing herself to them and
inviting them to touch her. And touch her they did, crowding about
and mauling her breasts and sex. They slid their hands down her pubic hair
and pressed their fingers into her vagina. Lisa’s automatic reaction was to draw
back from their groping hands, but the moment she tried to do so she felt the
sharp spikes touch her naked flesh and was forced to press herself forward
again. Her ordeal continued for more than an
hour, by the end of which her pale skin was streaked with dirt and mud where
their probing hands had been, and a silvery trail of moisture ran down both
her thighs as evidence of the effect the caresses were having on her. Lisa’s
body ached terribly with the continuing strain of keeping herself from
impaling her body on the spikes. At the same time her sex was burning with
desire, the muscles making the lips contract regularly as her body responded
to the treatment she was receiving. On at least three occasions she had come
close to orgasm, moaning with passion as the men took it in turns to frig
her. But they would sense the onset of her climax and cease for a few minutes,
watching as she gasped for breath, fighting with all her might to keep her
hips still. At last, though, they seemed to tire of
their sport, and a heated discussion commenced amongst the rebels. It went on
for some five minutes, with much nodding and grinning. Then a man was
despatched to where Okama sat, and Lisa watched with trepidation as further
talk ensued. When Okama nodded, a roar of approval went up from the crowd. The man ran into one of the huts,
emerging a short time later with something in his hand. He gave this to
Okama, who rose to his feet and strolled over to where the girl was on
display. As he came closer Lisa recognised the object he was holding. It was a horse whip. He moved close to her, eyeing her up and
down. “The men are amused by my little toy,”
he said. “You are the first white woman they have ever touched, and they seem
to enjoy it. I think this is true of you as well.” Lisa hung her head, saying nothing. “Still,” he went on. “They also desire
to see you punished to atone for your behaviour. So they will have their
wish.” Lisa stared apprehensively at the whip.
It was made of leather, and was extremely thin, tapering from the thickness
of a pencil to no more than that of a length of string. As she watched, Okama
swished it through the air a couple of times, making it bend as he did so. “The men find your breasts very good,”
he went on. “Very soft. They think that you push them forward like that
because you want them touched. They think they should be whipped.” Lisa’s eyes widened. “My breasts..?” “Silence! I have not given permission
for you to speak!” Okama’s voice was filled with anger and
Lisa was reminded once more that, despite his calm words, he nursed a deep
hatred for her. She pursed her lips, hoping her outburst would not make the
punishment worse. Okama waved the whip in the air and
shouted something. At once a sea of hands went up, the men all shouting at
once. He hesitated for a second, then pointed at a small, wiry man who stood
near the back. The man pushed his way through, a broad grin on his face. Okama said a few words to him, then
handed him the whip. He turned to face Lisa, whose instincts made her wish to
shrink back from him, something she was quite unable to do. Lisa couldn’t believe what was happening
to her. To be tied and violated in this way was bad enough. But to have her
breasts whipped! Even in her wildest thoughts she had never dreamed they
would do that to her! She dropped her eyes to her swelling orbs. There could
be no doubt that they were in a perfect position for the punishment; pressed
forward, the long brown nipples still slightly hard from the recent
attentions. She raised her eyes again and watched as the man took a position
beside her. “Six strokes I think,” said Okama. Then
he nodded to the man. Lisa stared fearfully as he tapped the
whip on her firm, creamy swellings. Then he drew back his arm. Whack! The cruel weapon came down with
considerable force across Lisa’s breasts, laying a stripe across them that
rapidly darkened to an angry red. The pain was excruciating. The mark stung
dreadfully and immediately brought tears to her eyes. The blow had another effect though. The
moment the whip descended, the young captive’s nipples began to pucker into
hard brown knobs that stood out prominently from her breasts. Her punisher
spotted the effect at once, holding out the whip and teasing the dark flesh,
eliciting a faint moan of pleasure from the girl. He raised the whip again. Whack! Lisa gasped as a second stripe was laid across
her succulent mammaries, making a scarlet X over their surface, the thin end
of the whip curling round and catching her a stinging blow beneath her left
breast. She bit her lip as the pain coursed through her. Once again her
instinct was to draw back as he lifted his arm for the third time, but the
pricking of the thorns in her back reminded her that she did not have the
option. Whack! This time he brought the whip up from
underneath, catching the underside of both breasts and making them bounce upwards,
much to the delight of those watching. And still her nipples remained stiff,
projecting invitingly for all to see. Whack! The forth stripe was directed
horizontally and caught her just below her teats, momentarily flattening her
swellings and leaving a thin line just beneath the edges of both aureole. By
now the pain was almost unbearable, and it was all Lisa could do not to
scream aloud as the whip fell yet again. Whack! This was the twin of the previous
stroke, only this time above her nipples, the blow falling with deadly
accuracy so that only the white skin was marked. Lisa clenched her fists and
closed her eyes as she prepared for the final cut. Whack! This, like the first two, fell across
the top of her stinging breasts, making yet another thin red line across her
otherwise faultless skin. Then the man stood back to admire his
handiwork. Lisa’s breasts were on fire, the pain
from the beating almost unbearable. Yet, as she looked down at her jutting
breasts, now criss-crossed with the evidence of her punishment, she felt a
great surge of arousal. Her mind was suddenly obsessed with what a sight she
must make. She gazed down at her body, knowing that the marks of her beating
drew attention to the fact of her nudity. She moaned softly, but not with
pain. Okama approached. He reached out a hand
and traced the stripes with his finger, making his captive wince as he did
so. Then he took her nipple between finger and thumb, smiling as she moaned
once more. “Good,” he said. “I think you will be a
good source of amusement for my men.” Chapter
18 They
left Lisa tied to the tree, her punished breasts red and throbbing, while the
men gathered by the fallen trees for a meeting. The day went on, and the heat
of the African afternoon became more and more intense. Thankfully the tree’s
branches protected her from the full force of the sun’s rays, but the hot
dustbowl in which the tree stood seemed to concentrate the heat and she found
herself sweating. The perspiration ran from her face and trickled between her
breasts, forming a white streak that ran all the way down her dirt-spattered
body to her pubic hair. Lisa was extremely uncomfortable. Though
the pain in her breasts had subsided to a dull ache, the pain in her limbs
seemed to be getting worse. her legs and arms screamed out for relief from
the strain of keeping her body taut and clear of the thorns. Then there was
the thirst. Lisa had not been allowed a drink since entering the camp, and
her throat was now parched. She watched with envy as the men swigged from
their beer bottles and chatted animatedly. She would have given anything for
a bottle herself. She reflected on the irony of the
expression. After all, what had she to give? She had been stripped of
everything, even the modesty of clothes. All she had to give was her body,
and she knew they would take that without asking, if they wanted it. She had
become no more than a chattel. Something to be stared at, touched, whipped or
fucked by them at will. She was truly their slave, and her body was theirs
for the taking. It was already late afternoon before the
meeting broke up. When it did so the men wandered back across to their
captive. Okama stood in front of her, eyeing her up and down. “The men have been discussing what to do
with you,” he said. “Some wanted to kill you, but I don’t think that is wise.
For now you will stay with us then and earn your keep as you can.” He barked an order and two men stepped
forward and began undoing her bonds. Once her hands were free she collapsed
forward onto the ground, gasping with relief at being freed from the dreadful
tension of the bondage. When at last her ankles were untied she curled
herself up, flexing and unflexing her limbs as the feeling agonisingly began
to return. They left her on the ground for fully
five minutes, then she felt the hard metal of a gun barrel poking her in the
ribs. “Get up,” said Okama. She rose unsteadily to her feet and
stood facing him, her arms by her sides. “You are thirsty, I think, Slut?” She nodded. “Yes Master.” “You would like a beer?” “Yes please Master.” “You would be prepared to earn it?” She looked at him quizzically. “It is the idea of the men. They note
that, once the beer has been finished, a woman can make another use of the
bottle.” Lisa stared at him uncomprehendingly for
a moment. Then his eyes dropped to her crotch and her mouth fell open as she
realised what he was suggesting. Okama laughed heartily. “I see you understand,” he said. “But
why are you so surprised? Surely such an act will give you pleasure?” Lisa did not reply. Okama barked an order to the men, and
two of them closed in behind Lisa, taking her by the arms. Before she knew
what was happening the hapless girl found herself being marched to the logs
where the men had held their meeting, whilst the rest followed on behind. When they reached the logs, the men took
her to the largest, which was about six feet in diameter, and lifted her
bodily onto it. For a second she had to crouch down until she found her
balance. Then she straightened to a standing position and gazed down at the
crowd that had gathered about her. She wondered at the sight she must make,
her breasts covered with stripes, her hair tangled, her fair skin streaked
with dirt, white trails showing where the sweat had run down her body, as
well as the trails made by the moisture from her sex. Yet the men pushed and
jostled one another for a sight of her, and standing above them as she was,
she knew that they had a perfect view of her sex. There was a commotion, and somebody
pressed through the throng. It was a young man, carrying a large bottle of
beer. Lisa shuddered when she saw it, but an odd warmth seemed to fill her
crotch as he held it out to her. She reached down and took the bottle. It
felt surprisingly cool, and she guessed that there must be some kind of
stream running down from the hills in which it had been standing. She looked
about, then raised the bottle to her lips. The lager tasted delicious, and she
gulped it down, suddenly aware of just how thirsty she had been. The liquid
felt wonderful as it flowed down her dry throat. She tipped the bottle
higher, and a dribble escaped from the corner of her mouth, running down her
chin and onto her breasts. She lowered the beer, taking a deep
breath. The liquid was more than half gone now, and the crowd gave a murmur
of approval. “Finish it.” The words came from Okama,
who stood at the front of the throng. Lisa lifted the bottle to her lips and
tipped it, taking a long swig, once more relishing the taste of the beverage.
In a few gulps the bottle was empty and she lowered it to her side, running
the back of her arm over her mouth to remove any vestiges that remained.
Again the men nodded to one another. “Was that good?” asked Okama. “Yes Master.” “Then put the bottle to further use.” Lisa’s heart was thumping in her chest
as she lifted the bottle and examined it. It was made of brown glass, the
neck tapering evenly down half its length, then running parallel along the
rest, a little over two inches in diameter. She ran her fingers along it,
feeling the hardness and thickness of it, then looked up at the men, all of
whom were watching her earnestly. She swallowed hard, unable for the moment
to move as she contemplated the outrageous act that was being demanded of
her. “Do it!” said Okama in a low voice. Lisa let the fingers of her right hand
slip from the bottle onto her breast. She moved her fingers over it, wincing
at the pain as she touched the red stripes from her beating. She took her
nipple between finger and thumb and rolled it back and forth, the sensation
sending a delicious tingle through her body. She glanced at the men once more. They
were silent now, every eye fixed upon her. She dropped her eyes, watching
almost detachedly as her hand left her breast and slid down her rib cage,
over her trim stomach and on toward her dark pubic triangle. “Mmmm.” She groaned quietly as she found
her clitoris. It was hard and wet, as she had known it would be. This was the
first opportunity she had had to masturbate since her capture and it felt
good to be touching herself so intimately once more, though she would have
preferred some privacy to perform so intimate an act. There was, however,
something undeniably exciting in being watched, and as she ran her finger back
and forth over the hard bud of flesh, her body shuddered with desire and she
began to rekindle the fire of lust that seemed to be forever smouldering
inside her. Her eye caught that of one of the men in
the crowd, and for a second held his stare. At that moment the full enormity
of what she was doing struck her. Here she was, Lisa Carling, the modest
little computer programmer who kept herself to herself and never normally
wore so much as a low-cut dress. And now she was standing naked and brazen
before this group of strange black men, her breasts and behind striped with
the marks of the whip, her nipples erect and hard, masturbating herself
openly. “Ahhh!” The image was almost too much for
her and for a second she thought she might come then and there. She tore her
eyes away from the man’s and glanced down at her body once more. “The bottle,” said Okama quietly. Lisa knew she could delay no longer.
Slowly she raised the neck to her lips. She opened her mouth and took it
inside, not tipping it this time, but sucking it, like she would a man’s
cock. As she did so she raised her eyes, gazing out provocatively at the
watching men. She slid the bottle out from between her
lips and began to move it down her body, keeping the neck in contact with her
skin, leaving a silvery trail of saliva down over her breast and across her
stomach. She slid it lower still, over the short, coarse hairs of her nether
thatch until she felt the cool, moist glass come into contact with her love
bud, sending a ripple of pleasure deep into her burning sex. For a moment her legs seemed frozen to
the spot. She knew she had to widen her thighs in order to contain the
thickness of the bottle, yet to do so, standing as she was above the sea of
faces, seemed such a totally wanton act as to be unthinkable. Then she saw
Okama’s face watching her and she thought of the breast lashing she had
received that afternoon and knew that she had no choice. She was his slave,
and she had to obey. Slowly she shuffled her feet apart,
until her thighs were stretched wide and her sex was open for all to see,
it’s pinkness glistening with love juices. Then, her face scarlet, she
manoeuvred the neck of the bottle to the portal of her love hole and began to
press. She pushed gently, twisting the bottle.
At first the flesh resisted. Then, with a gasp, she felt it penetrate her.
She pressed harder, bending her legs as she did so, and the bottle slid
inside, the hard, cool glass feeling delicious as it forced apart the walls
of her sex and slid ever deeper into her. All of the neck was inside now, yet
still she pressed, her vagina feeling stretched almost to breaking point as
she forced the rest of the improvised dildo inside her until only the base
was visible, distending her love hole in an almost grotesque way. Lisa paused, allowing the muscles in her
sex to contract about the object. She was extremely aroused now, every fibre
of her being alive with the sensation of her penetration. She cast her eyes
over her rapt audience. Then, taking the base of the bottle between her
fingers she began to work it back and forth. “Ahhh!” The moan of pleasure echoed about the
clearing as the thick bottle moved in and out of her. It was the most
extraordinarily stimulating sensation, made the more so by the fact that she
was being watched whilst she pleasured herself. It was almost as if the men’s
eyes were touching her physically, caressing her naked flesh, urging her on
in her masturbation. All of a sudden she felt more aroused than she had
imagined possible, and a new urgency crept in, making her work the bottle
back and forth with increased vigour. She widened her legs still further,
bending her knees and thrusting her sex forward, wanting the men to get the
best possible view of what she was doing, no longer caring about the
shamefulness of her behaviour, simply lost in the pleasure that her actions
were giving her. Suddenly, on an impulse, she changed her
motions, holding the base of the bottle with both hands and thrusting her
hips forward against it, working her backside back and forth in a lewd dance.
She was groaning aloud now, her head thrown back, her breasts pressed
forward, wanting to be watched. Wanting the men to feast their eyes on her
nakedness and to see the desire in her as she gave herself up to her lust,
her supple young body gyrating sensuously. All of a sudden the urgency came upon
her once more, and she knew her climax was close. She began to move faster
and faster, ramming her hips forward onto the cold, hard bottle, her breasts
bouncing up and down as she did so. She was lost in herself now. Oblivious to
everything except her desires, the juices from her sex dripping from her
fingers and forming a damp, dark circle on the wood between her legs. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” She came suddenly and noisily, a shout
escaping from her lips as her body shook with spasm after spasm of pleasure.
She stood, her backside jabbing forward against the bottle, her eyes tight
closed, her head shaking back and forth. The orgasm seemed endless, the
bottle stabbing in and out of her, her body jerking like a puppet on a string
as she let herself go. Then, just when she thought she would
die with the joy of it, her passion began to ebb, her motions slowing as she
started down the long slide back to normality. As she came down she sank to
her knees, still moving the bottle back and forth, but more gently now, her
cries turning to moans, then to gasps as she began to regain her breath. When, at last, her body was still, she
realised her head to stare out at the faces of the men, whose eyes were fixed
on the bottle that still projected from her sex. For a moment there was
silence, then a slow round of applause rose from the watchers. Chapter
19 “What
is it?” The words were half spoken, half mumbled
by the sleepy girl as she felt a hand shaking her shoulder. Who could be
waking her at this time, when all she wanted was to sleep? She reached down
for her bedclothes, but found none, fumbling about her on the hard, dry earth.
Her hand went to her body, finding only naked flesh, and she winced as she
touched her punished, tender breasts. Then she opened her eyes and remembered,
and her heart sank. Following her display, Lisa had been
taken to a stream, where she was allowed to wash the grime of the day from
her whilst her guards watched. The water had been extremely cold, but she
hadn’t minded, being glad to immerse her body. Her breasts, in particular,
were extremely tender after the lashing they had received and the water
soothed the pain. Afterwards they had taken her to one of
the huts where, her collar lashed to a stout pole, she was allowed to lie
down on the floor and rest. She had fallen at once into a deep sleep in which
she dreamt of freedom. In her dream she saw herself back in London at a
sumptuous party where she wore a long and elegant gown and was being chatted
up by a handsome young man. She was about to take his hand and accompany him
to the dance floor when she felt the hand on her shoulder. It was one of her guards, and he was
shaking her awake. Lisa gave a little cry of dismay as the
elegance of the party, and of her clothes, dissolved about her and she found
herself naked in the dingy hut, staring into the face of one of her captors. He
said nothing, simply taking her by the collar and pulling her to her feet. He detached the other end of her lead
and took her out into the warm night air. In the sky above were a million
stars and there was barely any wind at all. On any other occasion, Lisa would
have paused to savour the beauty of the evening, but in the circumstances
that prevailed she had no time for that. The men were gathered around a fire, on
which they were roasting a slab of meat. Lisa saw the light from the fire and
heard the laughter of the men, and for a second she hung back, fearful of
what awaited her amongst the crowd of lusty rebels. But her guard would have
none of it, dragging her along as he made his way down towards the noise and
laughter below. A small cheer went up as Lisa was led
into the centre of the camp. She lowered her eyes, mindful of her shameless
behaviour that afternoon and unwilling to look any of them in the face as she
was paraded once more in front of them. At one side, sitting facing the fire,
was a group apart, in the centre of which sat Okama, and it was to these that
she was led. The man brought her to a halt before them and she stood
silently, her hands hanging at her side, awaiting what orders he might have
for her. For a few minutes he ignored her,
continuing his conversation with his companions. For some strange reason this
annoyed Lisa slightly. It wasn’t as if she wanted to be placed on show, her
breasts and cunt bared to the men, but to be ignored seemed somehow
insulting. There was something else that Lisa didn’t like about having to
stand and wait, though. It gave her the opportunity to reflect on what was in
store for her that evening. Being the lone female, and a naked slave to boot,
she had few illusions as to what the men might have in mind for her, and she
stared about at them, wondering what was to follow. And the contemplation was beginning to
make her horny once more. She wondered at the perversity of her nature. Here
she was, enslaved by a group of savage strangers, some of whom would be happy
to see her dead, and had revelled in watching her being whipped and
humiliated that very afternoon. Yet when she thought of their thick, black
cocks plunging into her vagina, the wetness came back at once, and her
nipples hardened without even a single caress. At last Okama raised his head to look at
her. “Well, Slut,” he said. “Are you hungry?” Suddenly Lisa realised that she was
ravenous. It seemed ages since she had last eaten and the sight of the
platter of meat in front of the men made her mouth water. Okama picked up a
bone from the plate and tossed it to her. She caught it. The meat was tough
and greasy, and of an indeterminate source, but she didn’t care. She bit
greedily into it, the grease coating her fingers and lips as she devoured it. She gnawed all the flesh from the bone,
throwing the remains into the fire. Then Okama made a sign and a bottle of
beer was brought to her. When he saw the embarrassed expression on her face
the rebel leader smiled. “Do not worry, Slut,” he said. “Tonight
it is merely for drinking.” Lisa swigged down the beer, and as she
did so she was struck by the contrast with the dream she had been enjoying
just before. There she had been elegantly dressed, sipping cocktails from a
glass and nibbling at canapes in the company of a handsome young man. Here
she was totally nude, swigging beer from a bottle whilst surrounded by a band
of hostile rebels, all of whom lusted after her body. And yet she made no
protest, simply accepting her fate. She finished the beer and placed the
bottle on the ground. Then she stood and waited to see what would happen
next. She didn’t have to wait long. Okama rose to his feet, and the crowd
went suddenly quiet. He began to speak, his words drawing laughter from the
men. Suddenly a cheer went up, and the men began fiddling with the guns that
they seemed to carry at all times. Lisa watched, mystified as the men each
extracted a bullet from his magazine and began to scratch something into the
lead. Then Okama beckoned her forward. “Take this bag,” he said, holding out a
tatty cloth sack. “Collect a bullet from each man, then return to me.” Lisa gave him a puzzled look, but knew
better than to ask why. She took the bag from him and, turning to his
companions, began to collect the bullets. Then she headed out into the main
crowd. It wasn’t easy going. Wherever she
turned she seemed to encounter hands reaching out for her. Her breasts were
caressed, her nipples grabbed and pinched, and hands slid up her thighs,
coarse fingers worming their way into her sex and making her gasp with the
sensation as her body began to respond to their touches. For every hand that
dropped a bullet into her bag, there seemed to be three more taking liberties
with her lovely young form, and she found herself twisting and turning in a
vain attempt to avoid them. At last, though, she had collected a
round from every man, the bag now feeling considerably heavier. She pushed
her way back between them, finally breaking out in front of Okama, red-faced
and panting, her body tingling with arousal. Okama allowed his eyes to travel down
her body, and she knew he was taking in the hard knobs of her nipples, the
wet sheen on her sex lips, and her clitoris peeping from between the pink
folds. He smiled and took the bag from her. Lisa watched in silence as he checked
the bag’s contents, then screwed the neck shut in his fist and began to shake
it. Then he opened it again and held it out to her. The crowd went silent. “Take two bullets,” he said. Lisa hesitated, staring at him. He shook the bag impatiently. “Come on.” Gingerly Lisa reached into the bag. She
picked two of the bullets, then withdrew her hand. She stared down at them.
They were heavy and evil-looking, and each one had something lightly
scratched onto its surface. Close inspection revealed it to be a pair of
initials. “Give them to me.” Okama reached out his
hand. He studied the two bullets, then read
out the two inscriptions. From the crowd came a whoop and, after a certain
degree of jostling two men pushed their way to the front. Okama called them
forward, then handed each one of the bullets. The two men turned to her,
their faces split by wide grins. All at once Lisa realised what had been
happening. It was a raffle. Each man had marked a bullet with his own
initials, and had dropped it into the bag. Then she had chosen two, and in
doing so, had chosen her partners for the evening. She gazed at the two men
in amazement, suddenly realising she was about to be fucked. They were a motley pair, one short and paunchy
with a balding head, the other much slimmer. Each wore a dirty white shirt
and torn jeans, and each had a rifle slung over his shoulder. They closed in on the girl, grasping her
arms. She tried to twist out of their grip, but it was hopeless. They reached
for her breasts, making her wince as they squeezed them hard, reminding her
of the painful stripes that covered them. They began to march her away, the men
behind cheering as they did so. Lisa tried to protest, but they simply dug their
fingers into her arms as they dragged her away. She threw a glance over her
shoulder at Okama, who sat expressionless, as he watched her being taken off
to be ravished. Then they were out of the firelight and heading up towards
the huts. They walked without speaking, each
holding firmly to an arm as she stumbled along between them, her pale, slim
body making a stark contrast to their own dark skins. They took her to one of
the huts closest to the campfire, then shoved her inside. It was gloomy and rather smelly in the
rude hut, but Lisa was given no time to contemplate her surroundings. The
paunchy man threw himself on the floor, sitting with his legs spread apart,
then indicated his fly and nodded to her. Slowly Lisa dropped to her knees, her
eyes fixed on the man’s jeans. All her instincts told her to refuse, to try
to escape from this ugly, overweight stranger, but she knew she dare not. The
pain in her breasts told her that these men were not to be refused. She
reached out a shaking hand and began fumbling with his waistband, undoing the
button and then sliding down the zip. She reached inside. His cock, like the
man himself, was short and fat, a great brown sausage that was as yet only
semi-erect. She pulled it clear of his pants, feeling it harden under her
fingers as she did so. His balls were large and heavy, and she cupped them in
one hand, squeezing them gently whilst her other worked his foreskin slowly
back and forth, his weapon becoming harder with every stroke. He took hold of the back of her head,
forcing it down towards his ever stiffening member. Lisa could smell him now,
and the scent of his arousal sent a wave of excitement through her as she
closed her lips about his cock. She sucked at him, feeling him swell still
more as she did so, and all at once she was hungry for him. The sensation of
his thick pole in her mouth brought her own desires to the fore. She grasped
hold of his shaft, working her hand back and forth as her head bobbed up and
down, sucking greedily at his hard, black manhood. Suddenly she felt a hand on her behind,
and she was reminded of his companion. The man was rubbing his hand over the
soft flesh of her backside, grasping hold of her cheeks and pulling them
apart. Then something else touched her. Something hard and hot that probed
down into the crack of her bottom, making her gasp with the pleasure of its
touch. She pressed her behind back, spreading her legs and presenting him
with what she knew to be a perfect view of her open sex. Suddenly Lisa knew she wanted to be
fucked. The fact that the man behind her was a stranger who spoke in a tongue
that was incomprehensible to her was somehow irrelevant, as was her wanton
behaviour with the man in whose lap her head was buried. The sensation of
double penetration was one that she craved, and she shuddered as she felt the
man behind her move closer. But she wasn’t prepared for what
happened next, and she gave a cry of surprise as, instead of sliding his cock
into her pulsating sex, he began pressing it against the tight little hole of
her anus. Lisa couldn’t believe what he intended.
She had resigned herself to being fucked, but to have him in her rear seemed
unthinkable. Surely she couldn’t accommodate his thick member there? And yet
he continued to press against her, twisting his cock in his hand to try to
worm his way inside. “Mmmf!” Her cry of surprise and pain was muffled
by the fat cock that filled her mouth as she felt him penetrate her.
Instinctively the muscles of her sphincter tightened about him as he continued
to press into her. She tried desperately to relax her backside and allow him
the access he was demanding, though the pain was dreadful. At the same time
she was forced to concentrate on the man in front of her, whose grunts
indicated that the work of her hands and mouth were having the desired
effect. With a sudden heave, the man behind her
thrust his cock all the way in, penetrating her to the hilt. For Lisa the
sensation was extraordinary, her rectum filled with his rigid flesh whilst
the lips of her sex tightened about empty air. He began to move, ramming his hips
against her soft behind, gasps of pleasure escaping his lips as the tightness
of her anus stimulated him. His cock seemed to swell even larger as he did
so, bringing more faint cries from the young slave girl. For her part, Lisa
was totally frustrated, her body penetrated by two men simultaneously, yet
her rigid little clitoris receiving no attention whatsoever as the juices
leaked from her sex and trickled down her thighs. But still she persevered
with fellating the man in front of whom she was prostrated, knowing that her
duty was to bring the men pleasure and that any she should gain herself from
the encounter was of no consequence to her ravishers. The first man was becoming more animated
now, his hips thrusting hard against her face, and she sensed that he was
approaching his peak. She sucked harder at him, her hand flying up and down
his shaft, bracing herself to receive his semen down her throat. Two more violent thrusts, then a hoarse
cry and he was coming, his spunk squirting into her mouth and splattering
against the back of her throat. For a second Lisa almost choked. Then she was
gulping down his seed, relishing the strong male taste of his semen and
determined not to lose a drop, despite the way her body was being shaken back
and forth by the urgent movements of the man buggering her. Even while she was still receiving great
mouthfuls of the man’s seed, she felt her other violator let himself go, and
was rewarded by the sensation of a dollop of hot spunk spurting into her
rectum, followed by another and another. Lisa’s frustration was now complete;
two men coming inside her, two shattering climaxes filling her with sperm,
yet her own desires completely unsatisfied. Even a simple finger ramming its
way into the dripping cavern of her cunt would have brought her off just
then, but it was not to be. Instead she was merely the instrument of these
two panting strangers’ desires, like a sex toy that can be used and then
discarded. The two men withdrew from her
simultaneously, shoving her over so that she sprawled on her back, gazing up
at their dark faces. One of them picked up his jeans from the floor of the
hut and took out a packet of cigarettes, offering one to his companion. He lit
them with a match, the sudden flare of light illuminating the two mens’
faces. Then they settled themselves against the wall, drawing hard on their
cigarettes and contemplating the pale naked figure before them. Neither made
any attempt to put his trousers back on. They simply chatted quietly. Lisa lay on her back, aware of the sperm
that was beginning to ooze from her anus, and aware too that they had not yet
finished with her. She only hoped that one of them at least would fuck her
vagina before the night as out and ease the burning frustration within her. And with that hope came the final
realisation that she, Lisa Carling, had completed the journey she had begun
in Conrad Lang’s office such a short time before. A journey that had
transported her from chaste young girl to wanton, lascivious whore. Chapter
20 Time
passed, and Lisa’s life began to develop something of a routine, though it
was like no routine she had ever encountered before, or even imagined she
would ever encounter. By day she was largely left to herself, tethered by a
lead to a tree in the compound and performing minor duties such as repairing
the men’s clothing or washing. Sometimes Okama would order her tied to the
thorn tree, where she would become once more the object of the men’s
attention, their hands groping her lovely young body as she hung helpless
before them. Sometimes it would be too much for her and an orgasm would shake
her frame, the cries that escaped her lips echoing back from the hillside as
if to taunt her and remind her of her lasciviousness. In the evenings she would be paraded
before the men, as she had been on that first night, and would be forced to
draw lots for those who would have her that night. Then she would be led away
to some corner of the camp where she would give them what they demanded,
bringing them off with her hands, mouth, backside and vagina, and sometimes
even between her breasts, before finally being allowed to curl up in one of
the huts for the night. Okama maintained strict control of her whoring,
ensuring that the nightly ballot was a fair one and that only the winners
were allowed access to her, though the men took every opportunity to feel her
up whenever they encountered her during the day, sometimes triggering
unexpected orgasms in the wanton young girl as they slid their hard, thick
fingers between her thighs. Once a day Lisa was taken by one of her
captors to the nearby water hole in order to be allowed to bathe. It was a
part of the day she looked forward to; the opportunity to cleanse the sperm,
sweat and grime of the hot day from her body being a welcome one. It was on
one of these visits, however, that the trouble started. The walk to the water hole took about ten
minutes, down a winding path through trees which grew thicker as they
approached the water. Generally she was accompanied by a single guard, a
rifle slung over his shoulder, the lead to her collar gripped in his hand.
One evening, about two months after her arrival at the camp, they were
progressing as normal, Lisa walking ahead of him, when she was surprised by a
sudden movement in the bushes to the side of the track. At first she thought it must be some
kind of animal, and she shrank back, causing her guard to bump into her. Then
two men emerged from the bushes. Lisa recognised them both as members of the
rebel gang. In fact one of them had fucked her only two nights earlier and
had impressed her with his prowess, managing to come twice in her mouth and
twice in her vagina before finally releasing her in the small hours. The pair addressed Lisa’s guard, and a
short argument ensued. They were both much bigger than him and, Lisa
suspected, superior to him in rank. The discussion lasted no more than two minutes,
after which the guard gave a shrug and a nod. The pair then moved quickly,
grabbing Lisa and pulling her into the bushes. They laid her out on a small patch of
grass and took it in turns to fuck her, one holding her down, a hand across
her mouth to silence her cries whilst the other thrust his cock into her. It
took no more than five minutes before Lisa, still slightly dazed and with her
thighs spattered with semen was returned to her guard who then led her down
to the water without a word. Two days later they struck again,
dragging her from her escort and taking their pleasure quickly and silently.
The following day three other men were on the track and Lisa was forced to
submit once more. Over the next two weeks it became a
regular feature of her bath that she would be ravaged beforehand, and she
found herself heading off down the track each day dreading the attack and
violation she knew was inevitable. What was inevitable too, though, was
that Okama would find out. With so many men now taking this extra helping of
her body he was bound to know sooner or later, and she awaited with
trepidation the time that it would happen. When the incidents finally came to his
attention she was never certain whether it was by chance, or whether he had
been acting on a tip-off from one of the guards. All she knew was that, when
he burst upon the scene that afternoon, there was no more compromising a
position she could have been in. Lisa was stretched across a large fallen
tree, the trunk of which was more than three feet in diameter, her back
arched, her breasts thrust upwards, her thighs spread wide. Between her legs
stood one of the rebels, his jeans about his ankles, his long black cock
ramming into her open vagina. The girl’s head hung back over the back of the
tree, her hair trailing on the ground, her mouth filled by another rebel’s
erection, which she was sucking hard. As the two men came, she came too, her
cries of pleasure muffled by the thick weapon that filled her mouth. It was
only when the two withdrew and she was allowed to sit up that she saw Okama. The sight of him sent a shiver of fear
through her. His brow was creased with anger, and he stood, his hands folded,
glaring at the trio. By this time the men had seen him too and were pulling
up their trousers, sheepish looks on their faces as their cocks shrivelled
back to normal size. Lisa couldn’t understand a word he said
to them, but she understood his mood well enough and watched in silence as he
berated the two men before calling two guards who escorted them away. Then he
barked an order to Lisa’s escort, who quickly grabbed her lead and began
dragging her off up the path toward the camp. Lisa knew where she would be taken. As
soon as they reached the camp they made straight for the thorn tree, and Lisa
was made to stand silently before it whilst the man bound her wrists. This
time she was secured facing the tree, her hands held high above her head, her
ankles pulled apart and fixed in position. She stood, straining to hold her
pale young body clear of the cruel spikes that hovered less than a quarter of
an inch from her jutting breasts, threatening to puncture her flesh at any
moment. Okama did not stand on ceremony. He
simply barked: “Twenty strokes,” then stood back as more of the men gathered
about the tethered girl. A few weeks before Lisa would have been
appalled at this injustice. After all, it wasn’t as if she had encouraged the
men to ravish her as they had. But by now she knew better than to protest.
For her, life was cruel, and her simple compliance with the mens’ desires, as
well as the obvious pleasure she had taken for herself, were enough to single
her out for punishment. The beating was administered with a
long, thin bamboo cane, the strokes falling across her backside. After the
first ten her skin was glowing bright red and the tears were coursing down
her cheeks. Every time the stick landed on her flesh it had the effect of
rocking her body forward, bringing her dangerously close to the dreadful
spikes, and on more than one occasion her breasts and belly were grazed by
their savage points. The man paused, then began the second
ten strokes. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! The blows fell with a steady regularity,
each one bringing a new spasm of pain to the girl, and each one increasing
the perverse arousal that always now accompanied the pain. Her body was
coated in a sheen of sweat, the cane raising a small spray every time it
landed. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! With two more strokes to go, the
man paused, panting with the exertion. Then he raised the cane again. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! And then it was over. The man dropped
the cane to his side as the crowd looked on at the panting girl, her backside
a mass of criss-crossed stripes, her breasts rising and falling quickly as
she fought to regain her composure. Her ordeal was not over yet though, as,
to a gasp from the crowd, the man suddenly dropped his jeans, revealing a
penis as stiff as a ramrod standing out from his groin. Lisa braced herself as he moved close,
closing her eyes as she awaited the sensation of his thick tool entering her
vagina, which she was forced to press back so temptingly. But it was worse
than she imagined, for it wasn’t her vagina he wanted. The man wasted no time on ceremony. He
simply grabbed the cheeks of Lisa’s behind and rammed his cock into her anus,
oblivious to her cries of pain. At once he began fucking her hard whilst she
struggled desperately to keep her body clear of the cruel thorns. For Lisa this was the ultimate
humiliation; having to undergo the shame of a flogging, followed at once by a
public buggering. She kept her eyes tight shut, trying not to think of the
sight she must make, naked and helpless, the man’s thighs thrusting forward
against her as he slid his weapon back and forth inside her rectum. Mercifully for Lisa he came quickly,
spurting the contents of his balls into her backside with a triumphant shout
that brought a cheer from the onlookers. He stayed inside her until every
drop of his spunk had been deposited inside her rectum. Then he simply pulled
himself out and yanked up his jeans once more. The crowd was strangely subdued as it
dispersed, leaving Lisa still bound to the tree, her backside on fire, her
sex pulsating with the frustration of desires aroused but unfulfilled. It was
more than two hours before she was finally released, by which time she was
exhausted, the constant strain of holding her body clear of the thorns having
taken it all out of her. Indeed, when she looked down at herself, her breasts
and belly were covered in tiny scratches where she had come into contact with
the tree. Here and there tiny beads of blood revealed where her skin had been
punctured. They took her to the circle of logs
where Okama held his parliament. He was alone now though, seated on one of
the logs. He watched as the exhausted girl was led across to him. “So, Slut,” he said, eyeing her. “Did
you think the punishment unfair?” Lisa said nothing, her eyes downcast. “You understand that it was necessary
then, for the men’s discipline. Those you were giving pleasure to will also
be punished. The loss of wages will hurt them just as much as the flogging
did you.” Again Lisa did not answer. “But this incident has told me something,”
Okama went on. “Having a woman in the camp is not good for discipline,
especially a naked young white woman with such a hunger for sex. Therefore
you must go.” Lisa looked up at him. Go? Did this mean
he was releasing her? She could scarcely believe it could be true. But his
next words dashed any hopes she might have had. “I am selling you,” he said. “There is a
wealthy tribe near here who can supply me with guns and ammunition. I will
trade you there. You will fetch a good price.” Lisa stared at him in dismay. She was to
be sold! But to whom? What sort of fate awaited her at the hands of yet
another master? She had no wish to remain where she was, satisfying the
desires of Okama’s men, but the prospect of moving on to a new owner was no
more attractive to her. She looked questioningly at the man who had held
power over her for so long. “You are to leave tomorrow,” he said.
“At dawn. Meanwhile you must sleep. It is a long journey.” And with that he dismissed her, and she
was led away to one of the huts. Chapter
21 There
was barely a glow in the eastern sky when Lisa was woken from her slumbers
the following morning. A fire was burning outside and she was made to squat
down beside it, a bowl of gruel placed in her hand. She ate the food hungrily,
aware that it might be some time before she was given any more. She had hoped
that they might clothe her for the journey. It had been bad enough being
naked about the camp. The thought of having to walk back into the world
outside with her breasts and sex uncovered was one that filled her with
trepidation. But all they brought her was a pair of sandals, which she
slipped onto her feet and then stood quietly whilst her wrists and elbows
were bound. Once this was done a rope was attached to her collar and they
were off. She looked about for Okama as she was led from the camp, but he was
nowhere to be seen. In fact there was nobody about but her and her three
escorts. By the time it was fully light, the hill
that towered over the rebels’ camp was far behind them. They trekked on at a
steady pace, one man ahead of Lisa, two more behind. She was thankful that
they met nobody as they made their way across the plain. The sun rose higher and the day became
hot. The ground shimmered with mirages and Lisa began to feel thirsty. She
was grateful when they found a waterhole in the late morning and settled down
beside it. Lisa was given a drink, though her hands
were not released. Then they laid her out on the grass and fucked her, each
man taking it in turns to ram his cock into her. All three made her come,
crying out with passion as she felt herself filled by their semen. Then, once
they had had their pleasure, they dragged her to her feet and moved on. As she walked, Lisa could feel their
semen leaking from her sex and dribbling down her legs. She looked round at
her three captors, who were obviously highly delighted at having her to
themselves. It was clear to her that Okama would not have permitted them to
use her so freely to satisfy their carnal desires, but it was equally clear
that they felt safe being so far from the rebel camp, and that it was their
intention to use her in any way they pleased during the journey. Towards the end of the afternoon Lisa
spied a village ahead. The track they were taking became more worn the
further they walked, and shortly they encountered the first humans they had
seen since leaving the camp. They were two men, both in their thirties and
scruffily dressed in torn vests and shorts. Lisa averted her eyes as they
came closer and the men whistled in appreciation at the sight of the naked
white girl, her thighs striped with dried semen. Lisa’s captors stopped and a good deal
of chatter went on whilst she stood, her eyes cast down, waiting to move on,
her cheeks glowing as the men studied her lovely breasts, which were thrust
forward by the bonds at her elbows. The rebels were clearly questioning the
pair, and there was much talking and pointing. Eventually they seemed to be
content with what they had heard, and they made as if to depart. As they did
so, however, one of the men blocked their way. He pointed at Lisa and asked a
question. Lisa watched in silence as a further
discussion commenced. It went on for about two minutes, then the rebels
nodded in agreement. One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a
handful of copper coins, counting them out into the open palm of one of
Lisa’s escorts. The rebel counted them again for himself, then nodded his
head and slipped them into his pocket. The man turned to Lisa and grabbed her
by the arm, indicating a patch of bushes nearby. It was then that Lisa realised what was
happening. Her body was being sold to this scruffy stranger for what looked
like no more than a few pence. She made to protest, but one of her captors
caught her eye and she thought the better of it. Instead she allowed herself
to be led off by the man towards the bushes. No sooner had they reached the meagre
shelter that the bushes offered from the eyes of the others than the man took
her by the shoulders. He turned her round and pressed her down onto the rough
earth. Lisa lay back on the hard ground, watching him as he unbuttoned his
shorts. The way her arms were tethered behind her made lying down awkward,
and she found herself thrusting her breasts and backside up at him as she
tried to find comfort. The man dropped his shorts. He wore no underpants, and
was already hard, his long black cock curving upwards from above his tight
scrotum. Its length twitched as he contemplated her lovely young body. There was no foreplay, no ceremony. The
man simply wanted relief and the chance to use the young girl’s body. He
dropped to his knee, then flopped forward onto her and Lisa gave a gasp of
passion as she felt him slide his length into her. Then he was screwing her,
his backside working back and forth with a sense of urgency that at once
unleashed a surge of passion in the wanton girl. Even here, stretched out on
a hot dusty track, being fucked by this scruffy stranger, she still had no
control over her desires. As he came in her she cried aloud with the onset of
her own orgasm. It was only when he withdrew that she
saw his friend standing behind him already stripped for action, and in no
time yet another thick manhood was filling her cunt with sperm whilst she
gasped and writhed beneath him. In less than ten minutes from when they
had first stopped, they were on the move once more, leaving Lisa’s two
satisfied customers staring after them as they headed off down the track. As
Lisa felt new rivulets of spunk leaking onto her thighs she realised that yet
another step into the depths of her depravity had been taken. She had allowed
herself to be sold for mere cash. Her escorts had become her pimps, and she
their whore. The town was a small one, not unlike the
one in which she had spent her first night on the Dark Continent, though this
time the men had the confidence to parade her along the main street, clearly
unworried about being detected by her original captors. This village was much
deeper in the bush, and there was little sign of any vehicles having visited
it for some time. As Lisa was led down the track that ran
through the middle of the squat houses, the people began to emerge, staring
in wonder at the naked girl, her skin so pale in contrast to their own, her
long, flowing locks so unlike the tight black curls that adorned their own
heads. They looked too at her swelling breasts and her bare crotch, the
evidence of her recent behaviour clear for all to see. There was much chatter
from the crowd, the men grinning and pointing whilst the women frowned their
disapproval of the naked newcomer, some shouting abuse or spitting in Lisa’s
direction. Lisa hoped they would pass through the
village quickly and continue their journey, but to her dismay the men halted
beside a two-storey building and one of them knocked on the door. They waited a short time, then the door
swung open. A woman stood in the entrance. She was a large woman, in her
forties Lisa estimated, and she cast a look of disdain over the small party,
a look that turned to disgust as she eyed Lisa. A conversation followed, with much
argumentation. The crowd gathered round to listen as the men talked
animatedly with the woman, constantly gesticulating towards Lisa. At one
point one of the rebels grabbed hold of her, turning her to face the crowd.
He cupped her breasts, holding them up for the people to see and
demonstrating the hardness of her nipples. Then he forced her to open her
legs and ran his finger over her slit. He held his finger up to show her
wetness mingled with the sperm of the men who had had her earlier. He placed
his glistening fingers to her lips, and a murmur of approval came from the
onlookers as Lisa licked them clean. Lisa felt like an animal at a cattle
auction, her body on show for all to see, forced to display her charms to
this scruffy crowd with no concession whatsoever for her modesty. Here she
was, stark naked, in the middle of a crowded street, her hands bound behind
her whilst her breasts, backside and cunt were caressed and probed in the
most overtly sexual manner for the benefit of the onlookers, and there was
nothing she could do about it. At last, though, the rebels turned back
to the woman at the door, who appeared to be wavering. She argued for a little
longer, then she nodded her head and stood back from the entrance. The first of the rebels entered,
followed by the other two, but when Lisa made to do so the woman barred her
way, shouting something to her captors. There followed another brief conversation,
and then the sound of laughter. One of the three men stepped back outside and
Lisa watched as he picked up a hose pipe that lay on the ground beside the
building. He indicated for her to stand in front of a tree, then moved behind
her and undid her bonds. Once her arms were free he went to the tap to which
the hose was attached and turned it on. Lisa braced herself as he aimed the jet
of water in her direction. Even despite the warmth of the day the water was
freezing cold and it took her breath away as it caught her body, splashing
onto her breasts and causing the nipples to harden at once. Despite the fact that she was being
forced to make her toilet in front of half the village, Lisa was glad of the
opportunity to wash herself, rubbing her arms and upper body with her hands
to dislodge the dirt. Once this was done he aimed the hose at her crotch and
she was forced to wash out the sperm that was still within her and which was
streaked down her legs. Her face glowed red as she spread her thighs and
delved deep inside her vagina in an effort to remove all vestiges of the
men’s seed. When at last she was clean, the rebel
switched off the water and called into the house. The woman emerged shortly
and walked round Lisa, sniffing disdainfully as she inspected her. Only once
she was completely satisfied did she nod her head and Lisa entered the house,
relieved to be away from the gaze of the townspeople.. Inside, the place was no more
prepossessing than it had appeared from outside. It had a musty smell about
it and what little furniture there was was worn and stained. The curtains at
the windows were no more than rags, and the stone floors were bare. Lisa was led down a corridor and into a
large room. There were tables set about with an odd assortment of unmatching
chairs drawn up to them. The atmosphere was heavy with sweet-smelling smoke
and the men seated at the tables were quiet, eyeing her with no more than a
drowsy interest. Her escort took her to the centre of the room and made her
stand, staring about at the occupants. The room reminded Lisa somewhat of the
bar that Okama had taken her to on that first night, though it was more dimly
lit and the occupants seemed considerably more subdued. The two rebels who
had gone into the house before her were lounging at a table with beer bottles
in front of them, and their companion joined them. Lisa stood beside the
table, eyeing the beer enviously. One of the rebels reached out to her,
stroking her inner thigh. A shiver ran through her body as he did so and he
grinned to his companions. He had an odd-shaped cigarette hanging from the
corner of his mouth and he took it out and offered it to her. Lisa shook her
head, but he made an insistent noise and offered it to her again. This time
she recognised it as an order and took it from him. She placed it in her mouth and drew upon
it, then breathed in the smoke. For a second she almost choked as it burned
the back of her throat and the men laughed as they saw the tears come into
her eyes. She blew out the smoke and held the cigarette out to the man, but
he shook his head, indicating that she should smoke some more. By the time Lisa had taken two more
drags from the roll-up she knew that it was not tobacco that she was smoking.
A strange euphoria seemed to be overtaking her and the smoke ceased to burn
her throat. She drew on it twice more, then realised that the man at the
table was speaking to her, holding out his hand. She passed the cigarette
back to him. All of a sudden Lisa realised that the
man still had his hand on her inner thigh, stroking it gently, his fingers
brushing against her sex as he did so. She watched him, fascinated by the
movement of his hand, momentarily forgetting the eyes that were upon her as
she felt her body respond to his touch. “Mmmm.” She closed her eyes, pressing her pubis
forward and opening her legs, encouraging him to become more bold as the drug
began to dull her senses. His caresses felt wonderful. Her body was suddenly
responsive to him. She gazed dreamily across the table to where coins were
changing hands between one of the rebels and a man who had just entered the
room. She knew the transaction had some relevance to herself, but momentarily
she could not think what, and when the man took her arm and led her toward an
alcove at the side of the room she went willingly. The alcove was screened from the room by
an old blanket, and the man pushed it aside, beckoning Lisa to go through.
Inside there was a mattress on the floor and little room for anything else.
The man motioned Lisa to lay on it, and she did so, stretching out on her
back and spreading her legs. She watched as he lowered his trousers. The man knelt between her legs, his
rampant cock rising from his groin. She felt as if she was in a dream, and a
mere spectator to what was about to take place, though when she felt the
thick end of his erection pressing against her sex the sensation was real
enough. She groaned as he penetrated her. She was suddenly extremely aroused,
the drug they had given her taking on an aphrodisiac effect as she felt all
her senses heightened. He fucked her quickly and without
passion, his hips pounding against hers, shaking her body back and forth and
bringing small cries of pleasure from her lips that she knew must be audible
to those in the room. He came, jets of semen spurting into her
and triggering an instant orgasm, her cries even louder as the waves of
pleasure rolled over her. She felt completely detached from what was
happening to her now, and scarcely noticed when the man withdrew and was at
once replaced by another, who dragged her up onto all fours and immediately
penetrated her from behind, his rough hands kneading her dangling breasts and
kindling her passions anew. And outside the jingling of coins
continued. Chapter
22 Lisa woke
next morning with a dull headache, blinking wearily at the shaft of light
that penetrated the dirty windows of the house and fell directly on her face.
She sat up, wincing slightly at the way her body ached. She gazed about her surroundings. She
was still on the mattress in the alcove, though the blanket that had afforded
her some privacy had long since been torn down. She looked at her body. Her
breasts and belly were spattered with semen, which was matted in her pubic
hair and coated her thighs. She tried to remember how many men had slipped
into the alcove the night before and taken her, but she couldn’t. The whole
evening seemed merged into a mad, unceasing bout of copulation in which every
orifice of her body had been filled by an unending queue of partners. She rose unsteadily to her feet. As she
did so the door opened and the woman entered. She eyed Lisa with the same
distaste as she had the previous day, then beckoned to her. Lisa padded down
the corridor behind the woman, who unlocked the front door and motioned for
her to go outside. It was cool in the morning air, the sky turned red by the
light of the dawn, but the air was fresh after the musty smell of the house
and the stuffiness of the alcove, and Lisa breathed it in gratefully. The woman nodded at the hose, and Lisa
picked it up, turning on the tap and spraying the water onto her bare skin.
It was cold, but intensely refreshing, and she was anxious to cleanse her
body of the evidence of the previous night. The woman offered her a bar of soap
and she accepted it gratefully, glad for the opportunity of a proper wash. The woman watched her throughout her
ablutions and, when Lisa was finally clean, allowed her back inside. She took
the girl to a small kitchen, where a pot was boiling on the stove. She
spooned something into a bowl and offered it to her. It was a kind of porridge, with a
slightly salty taste, but it was food, and that was what Lisa wanted. She
devoured it hungrily, accepting a second bowl and washing it down with a
glass of milky tea. By the time she had finished there were
sounds of stirring in the rest of the house, and soon her three escorts
emerged, grinning sheepishly at one another when they saw their naked captive
once more. Lisa wondered if the three of them had had her the night before,
and suspected that they probably had. One of the three pulled a handful of
coins from his pocket and began to divide them between his colleagues and
their hostess, each taking a large pile. Lisa watched as they pocketed the
cash she had earned for them. She wondered if Okama would have approved of
what they had made her do. She suspected not. Perhaps one day he would find
out and the men would be punished. After all, it couldn’t be that often that
the village was visited by a naked white woman who prostituted herself for so
little cash. It was bound to be talked about for some time to come. The men bound her wrists and elbows once
more, and she was led from the house. Half an hour later the village was no
more than a speck on the horizon as they trekked on through the bush. They walked for most of the day,
stopping only briefly for lunch, which consisted of a loaf of bread and some
water from a nearby stream. Then, in the late afternoon, they stopped again
by a small oasis. Lisa fully expected that the three would ravage her once
more, but instead they made her bathe in the stream, then stood her by the
side whilst they combed her hair and checked that she was presentable. Only
then did they bind her arms once more and continue their trek. It was less than twenty minutes later
that Lisa smelt the woodsmoke. Soon afterwards she saw it, a plume of blue
rising up into the evening sky from a copse of trees ahead of them. Five
minutes later they encountered a lone figure, who silently emerged from the
bushes. The man was dressed completely unlike
her captors. He wore a brightly coloured cloth about his waist and his chest
was bare. Around his neck were beads that seemed to be made of animal teeth
and on his head he wore a headdress fabricated from some kind of hide. In his
hand he carried a long, dangerous looking spear. This he pointed at Lisa’s
party as he barked out some kind of challenge. One of the rebels stepped forward, his
arms outstretched, and said a few words. The man turned his eyes on Lisa, his
gaze travelling up and down her body. Then he nodded and turned, leading them
along the path. As they came closer to the place from
where the smoke was issuing, more and more people emerged. The men were all
dressed in a similar manner to the one they had first encountered, whilst the
women wore smocks apparently made from the same material as the mens’ cloths.
All stared at Lisa as she was led past them, many of the women giggling at
the sight she made. They followed the path round a bend, and
suddenly the village was in front of them. It was like nothing Lisa had ever
seen before. The dwellings were circular huts made of mud, with thatched
roofs. There was no sign of any brick building, nor of any vehicular roads.
As they made their way past the huts the path opened out into a circular
arena, in the centre of which was a platform with a sort of totem rising from
it. On the far side of this was an area surrounded by a stout fence made of
vertical staves. Through the gaps in these Lisa could make out a much larger
house than the others, though of a similar construction. Even as they stepped
into the open area, people were emerging from all sides, stopping at the edge
to watch the small band as it made its way to the centre. The men stopped beside the stage, one in
front and one on either side of their naked captive. Lisa looked about her at
the many faces that now surrounded them. The crowd jabbered and pointed at
the lovely young white girl. They waited about five minutes, during
which time nothing seemed to be happening. Then, all of a sudden, a hush fell
upon the crowd and Lisa looked up to see the people parting in front of her.
As they stood aside, a broad gate opened in the fence and a man stepped
through. He was about fifty years old, broad
chested and big bellied. He wore a lion skin about his shoulders and on his
head was an elaborate crown made of birds’ feathers. Like the warrior who had
led them into the village he too carried a spear, but his was made of a metal
that gleamed brightly in the sunlight. The jewels about his neck were equally
glittering and his hands were bedecked with rings. Behind him came an
entourage of five women, all similarly grandly adorned. Clearly this was the
village Chief. The man made his way at a stately pace
across to where the rebels and Lisa were standing. As he approached them the
three men dropped to their knees and Lisa followed suit. The Chief nodded and
they rose to their feet again, Lisa somewhat unsteadily due to the ropes that
tied her hands. The leader of her escort began to speak.
He and the Chief exchanged a few words, then he beckoned to Lisa. The girl
stepped forward nervously, her eyes lowered. The man took her by the
shoulders and shoved her forward until she stood just in front of the Chief.
For the first time she realised how tall he was, her eyes reaching only the
level of his chest. The rebel began to speak again,
apparently outlining her charms to the large man. He cupped her breasts,
bouncing them in his palms and demonstrating how sensitive Lisa’s nipples
were, making them pucker to hard points as he toyed with them. He slapped her
belly to show its firmness and ran his fingers through her pubic hair. Then
he made her turn, pressing on her shoulders and bending her forward. At the
same time he kicked apart her ankles and took hold of the cheeks of her
behind, stretching them open and running a finger over her anus, making the
muscles contract as he did so. When his fingers found her sex
Lisa gave a little gasp, her body shuddering as he teased her clitoris out
from between her nether lips and prised the portals open to reveal the pink,
wet interior. Then he pulled her body straight again, turned her around and
forced her down onto her knees in front of the Chief. The conversation between the two men
continued for some time, and Lisa could tell they were haggling. Men were
despatched into the compound behind the fence and returned with armfuls of
weapons which the rebels inspected. The light grew dimmer as the sun slowly
sank to the horizon, yet still they talked whilst the crowd looked silently
on. It was almost dark when the deal was
finally struck, by which time fires had been lit about the compound, their
flickering orange flames illuminating the mens’ faces as they talked. An exclamation
rose from the crowd as the Chief held out his hand and the rebel slapped it
with his own. Then a solemn clapping rang round the square, like that which
might be heard following a political speech or a lecture. The Chief turned to the entourage of
women, who had stood behind him throughout the proceedings, saying nothing,
but occasionally giggling and nudging one another during the intimate
inspection of Lisa’s body. He spoke to the leading woman, and once again the
group collapsed into laughter. Then she stepped forward and took hold of the
lead that dangled from Lisa’s collar. The woman gave it a tug, yanking the
hapless girl to her feet. She eyed the youngster’s body up and down, then set
off for the fenced compound, dragging Lisa behind her and followed by the
rest of the women. As they approached the gate a man opened
it for them and they passed through. They took Lisa straight to the large
building she had seen on arrival in the village, and shoved her through the
door. Inside was a large, dark room that
smelled of wood smoke. All about the walls were flaming torches that flooded
the room with an eerie flickering light that made their shadows dance on the
walls and ceiling. Once inside they gathered round Lisa, poking and pinching
her skin. They felt her breasts and backside and tugged at her pubic hair, as
if they had never seen a naked European girl before, which was probably the
case. One of the women was taller than the
others, aged about thirty - Lisa estimated - and rather more smartly dressed.
This was the one who had led Lisa into the compound and it was she who now
took charge, barking orders at her giggling companions. At once they dragged
Lisa across to the centre of the room, where a log lay on the floor about a
foot in diameter. They turned the girl round and began to undo her bonds,
releasing first her wrists, then her elbows. It was a relief to Lisa to be
able to relax her arms once more, but a relief that was short lived as they
forced her down onto her back, making her lie at right angles across the log
whilst they tied her wrists to rings set wide apart in the floor. Other hands
grasped her ankles, pulling her body taut and securing them to more points on
the floor, leaving her thighs open wide. Lisa was in an extraordinarily
vulnerable position, her body stretched wide, the log positioned under her
backside so that her pubis was thrust upwards in the most provocative manner,
and her sex wide open to their gaze. But the women had not finished yet. One
of them produced a bag, and dipping into it, pulled out three shiny metal
clips to which were attached long, fine chains. They held the clips under
Lisa’s nose so that she could investigate them. They were wide, like the jaws
of a shark in miniature, and each had a row of needle-sharp teeth that locked
together as the springs forced them closed. Lisa couldn’t think what they
could possibly be for, but when the women began to toy with her breasts she
began to get an idea. Two of the women positioned themselves
on either side of her and started to caress her creamy mammaries, kneading
them in their palms and laughing as Lisa’s face reddened, small gasps of
pleasure escaping from her lips. In no time her teats were hard and
protruding upwards toward the ceiling like long brown points. Only then did
the women bring the clamps forward, squeezing the jaws open, then closing
them over their captive’s nipples. Lisa gave a cry of surprise and pain as
the teeth bit into her tender flesh, bringing delighted smiles from her
tormentors. The two women who had placed the clamps
on her then took hold of the chains that hung from them, pulling them
upwards. It was then that Lisa realised that their companions had not been
idle whilst they had been preparing her for this torture. Two narrow cords
had been slung over a rafter above her head and, as she watched, the chains
were attached to these. Then the cords were pulled tight, bringing tears to
the girl’s eyes as her flesh was stretched by the tension until she felt sure
that it must tear. They fastened the cords about the rafter, laughing and
clapping as they saw the obvious discomfort this caused their prisoner. But the worst was to come, and Lisa
reacted with shock as the senior woman knelt between her legs and reached for
her clitoris. “Ahhh!” The exclamation escaped Lisa’s lips as
the woman began to toy with her love bud, teasing it with her fingers and
watching as it hardened. Only once it was erect, its tip peeping out between
her sex lips, did she produce the clamp. “Oh!” This time the cry was one of pain as the
teeth of the clamp closed over Lisa’s most sensitive place, sending pangs of
agony through her body as this too was attached to the roof above and pulled
taut. Only once this third chain was secure did the women stand back and look
down at their captive. Lisa knew she must make an
extraordinarily erotic sight, her naked body open, her pink slit thrust
upwards as if inviting penetration. The silver coloured clamp stretched her
clitoris to twice its normal length, the pink flesh turning deep red as the
teeth bit deeper. Her breasts, the nipples squeezed tight by the clamps, were
pulled almost conical, the pale skin tight. At that moment another, larger shadow
fell across Lisa’s face. She looked up to see that the Chief had entered and
was staring down at her with obvious approval. The women had moved back,
whispering and nudging one another as they watched the Chief. He walked all
the way around Lisa, testing her bonds and feeling the tightness of the
chains that were torturing her breasts and sex, bringing cries of pain from
her as he pulled them still tighter. Then he gave an order and the leader of
the women ran to the corner of the room and retrieved a long canvas bag. She
undid the cord that tied the neck, then offered it up to the Chief. He reached inside and withdrew something
long and thin. Lisa stared at the object with some trepidation. It was a
cane, about two and a half feet long and extremely thin. The Chief was able
to bend it almost completely double as he tested it in his hands. He flexed
it once or twice, then nodded his approval and handed it back to the woman.
She smiled and passed the bag to one of her companions. Then she took up a
position between Lisa’s legs, staring down at her naked body. Lisa watched fearfully as the woman
swished the vicious little cane through the air. There was little doubt that
it was to be used upon her, but how? There was no way it could be her
backside, pinned down on her back as she was. She shivered as she gazed into
the woman’s eyes. But it wasn’t just fear that made her
body shake. Along with the sense of foreboding that she felt, her vulnerable
position and the searing pain in her nipples and clitoris suddenly induced an
intense sensation of sexual arousal that flooded through her body, bringing a
gush of wetness to her sex that she knew must soon be visible to those
watching. The woman tapped the cane against Lisa’s
inner thigh, about two inches from her sex. Lisa’s body reacted
automatically, the muscles of her vagina giving a sudden spasm that forced a
drop of moisture out onto her thick pink lips. The woman shook her head on
seeing this, moving the cane up and collecting the drop on the tip, then
holding it up for all to see. Then she wiped it in Lisa’s pubic hair and
tapped her thigh once more. Swish! Crack! Lisa gave a yelp of pain and surprise as
the cane came down hard on the tender flesh of her inner thigh, leaving a
thin white line across her skin that immediately began to darken to red. The
woman with the cane grinned at her reaction and pulled back her arm again. Swish! Crack! The second blow fell in the mirror
position to the first, the dreadful stinging pain making Lisa writhe in her
bonds, the movements simply serving to tighten the tension in the chains and
stretching her breasts and love bud still further. Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! Two more stripes were laid across her
smooth flesh by the woman, the whippy cane wrapping itself about her leg so
that the weals ran all the way around to the back. Swish! Crack! This time the end of the cane caught the
top of Lisa’s sex lips, making contact just below the clamp that held her
clitoris, much to the delight of those watching. Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! So close to Lisa’s sex did the next
strokes fall that they dislodged a drop of moisture from inside and she felt
a cold sensation as the wetness trickled down over the marks already made by
the cane. Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! Each blow found its target perfectly,
leaving the flesh at the top of the hapless girl’s legs criss-crossed with
thin, angry marks, the pain from which was almost unbearable. Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! And yet still the heat in the naked
girl’s sex increased as each stroke was laid across her pale skin. Her
muscles were working uncontrollably now, the lips of her sex twitching
violently and forcing yet more of her shining love juice into the open so
that it ran down to her backside and dripped onto the earth below. Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! Swish! Crack! The woman paused, the sweat running from
her face as she gazed down at the writhing girl. Then she drew back her arm
once more. Swish! Crack! The final blow fell with deadly accuracy
along the length of Lisa’s gaping slit, the tip cracking down on her love bud
and splashing moisture out on both sides, making Lisa cry aloud with a
mixture of pain and passion. The woman lowered the cane and the
others gathered round, standing over the panting white girl whose hips pumped
back and forth, her sex thrusting up at them in an almost uncontrollable
display of lust, each movement causing her clitoris to stretch and contract.
Lisa’s arousal was almost total now, the pain from her thighs and from the dreadful
clamps suddenly as nothing to the sheer desire that gripped her as she lay
before them, her sex positively on fire. The Chief moved forward and said
something to the woman with the whip, who cackled with laughter. She
stretched out her arm and teased the fleshy lips of Lisa’s sex with the end
of the whip. The effect on the girl was electric. A moan escaped her lips as
she pressed her thighs upward against the wood. The woman withdrew the weapon, evincing
a groan of disappointment from the writhing beauty. She turned to the Chief
and raised an eyebrow. He nodded. She brought the cane down between Lisa’s
legs again, this time rubbing it back and forth with a sawing motion. The
roughness of the bamboo scraped over that part of Lisa’s tender love bud that
was not concealed by the clamp. It was a crude gesture, but to the horny
youngster it was enough, and she almost cried with relief as she felt her
orgasm building. Ah! Ah! Ah! The screams of passionate joy rang about
the room as Lisa’s climax overwhelmed her. Unable to control herself she
began undulating her whole body as she pressed up against the object that had
transformed so rapidly from tormentor to relief bringer. The chains flexed
and pulled at her punished nipples and clitoris, the teeth biting ever deeper
into her, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the glorious orgasm that
shook her body with spasm after spasm whilst she continued to shout aloud
with the pleasure of her relief. Chapter
23 Lisa
woke the next morning to find herself hanging by her wrists from a stout
tree. Her limbs ached dreadfully, and she couldn’t believe that she had
actually slept in such an awkward position. Her arms were roped together and
tied above her head. She gazed bleary-eyed about her. She was outside the
large building in which the Chief lived, though still within the boundary of
the fence. She was in a cage made entirely from bamboo poles set at right
angles to one another, leaving squares about six inches by six inches through
which to gaze out at the world. The cage was built around the tree, the bars
above her embedded deep into holes in the trunk. It was about ten feet
square, no more than a tiny cell, with a door secured by a stout chain and
lock. The ceiling was about two feet above her head, so that her arms were
actually reaching through the bars above her. She gazed down at herself. Her nipples
were red and swollen, the tiny marks of the teeth forming regular patterns
above and below each. Her thighs were covered in the thin stripes that the cane
had made on the soft flesh, and she still felt extremely sore down there,
especially where the clamp had bitten into the tender flesh of her clitoris.
She wondered at this introduction to her new life. Clearly these people, like
the rebels, had not been treated well by their colonial masters, and saw her
as a scapegoat for all their mistreatment. She wondered what was to come for
her in this savage place, as a naked and submissive slave to these proud
people. The village began to wake up about her. Her
cage was set some way back from the stockade that separated the Chief’s house
from the rest of the dwellings, but she could see the people clearly enough,
and that meant that they could see her, many of them stopping to gaze through
at the Chief’s new acquisition. It was about an hour before she saw any
movement in the compound, however. It was a lone man, carrying a tray with a
bowl and a jug on it, and he was approaching the cage. At his belt was a bunch of keys and he
used one of these to unlock the door, swinging it open. He placed the tray on
the floor of the cage, then turned to the suspended girl, his eyes travelling
down her body and taking in her luscious charms that were so openly on
display. He moved to her and, taking her by the
shoulders, turned her round so that she faced the tree. Lisa expected her
hands to be released, but when she turned to see what the man was doing she
gave a small gasp of dismay. He had drawn a long cane from his belt and was
flexing it in his hands. Then he drew back his arm. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Six strokes, delivered dispassionately
and accurately across Lisa’s behind. As they fell she danced about like a
puppet on a string, trying desperately to avoid the blows but simply
succeeding in offering the man new, virgin flesh on which to lay another
stripe. The beating was swift and hard, and at the end Lisa’s backside was on
fire as tears coursed down her cheeks. The man, still stony-faced, took her by
the shoulders once more and turned her round to face him. He reached for her
breast, pinching the already sore nipple between finger and thumb and
watching the expression of pain that passed across Lisa’s face. Then he felt
for her crotch, sliding a finger into her vagina as Lisa groaned quietly with
the sensation. He removed his finger and examined the sheen of wetness that
now covered it. Then he nodded with satisfaction and wiped it on her pubic
hair. He moved even closer, so that Lisa could
smell his body, his closeness bringing a tingle of anticipation to the
lustful youngster. But he simply reached above her head, releasing her hands
from the rope above, though leaving them still tied together. He indicated
the tray he had carried in. Lisa dropped to her knees and picked up
the bowl. It was filled with a white maize meal with the consistency of
mashed potato, and she scooped a handful into her mouth. It was tasteless,
but filling and she consumed it all, washing it down with the water in the
jug. Once she was done he took the tray and left her, locking the door of her
cage behind him. For
the next three days Lisa’s life was relatively uneventful. She was not
allowed out of the cage at all. To satisfy her bodily needs they supplied her
with two buckets, one of which was full of water, in order to allow her to
keep clean. Three times a day she would be fed, the meal often accompanied by
a brief but painful beating. She would be suspended by her wrists for this,
and a different part of her anatomy would be chosen each time. Sometimes it
would be her breasts. Sometimes her belly. Sometimes her thighs, her back,
her legs or her backside. Soon her body bore stripes in almost every area,
and it became difficult to find a part on which she could lie at night
without discomfort. She worked out that the area in which
she was being kept was a kind of royal compound, entered only by the Chief
and his entourage. The women appeared to be his wives, and at night Lisa
could hear much shrieking and merriment coming from inside the large hut.
Sometimes they would visit her, usually to beat her, their punishments harder
and more painful than those administered by the guards. Afterwards they would
inevitably check the state of her arousal, laughing aloud when they saw how
wet she had become, though she was not permitted an orgasm as she had been on
her first night. Apart from the Chief’s wives and their
guards, the only other living creatures in the compound was a small flock of
goats. These wandered freely about, nibbling at the grass and bushes. Each
animal was kept beautifully groomed, and each bore a small brass ring, about
an inch in diameter, through its nose. On their rumps was a brand depicting a
leaping lion, just over an inch long. There were other goats outside the
compound, but none was so well-kept and none was marked in this distinctive
manner. It was on the third day that Lisa saw
her first hunting party. There were about twenty of them, all men, and all
dressed like the one she and the rebels had encountered on entering the
village, though, in addition to their loincloths, these men had their bodies
painted in bright colours. They paraded in the open area in front
of the Chief, banging their spears against their shields and chanting whilst
he looked on. Lisa watched too, her face pressed against the bars of her cage
as they performed their antics. Suddenly another figure appeared, It was
the woman who had beaten Lisa on that first night, and who appeared to be the
Chief’s senior wife. She was leading one of the goats on a piece of chain
that was attached to the ring in its nose. The goat clearly had some
significance, as a murmur of approval arose from the men on seeing it. The animal was paraded in front of the
men, then the lead was detached. At first the animal simply stood, gazing
about itself in a bemused manner. Then the woman clapped her hands and
shouted at it, making it run from her. At this a group of the villagers took
up the initiative, chasing the animal down the track and out of the village, shouting
and hurling stones after the frightened beast until it was well out of sight. The parading went on for a further half
hour. Then one of the men shouted an order and they were off, yelling and
screaming as they disappeared down the track. It was nearly dusk when they returned,
and the village gathered in the square as they marched up the track, chanting
rhythmically. As they came into the centre, Lisa could see that they had the
goat on a pole, strung up by its legs, and there was much cheering as it was
laid down before the Chief. That evening the smell of roasting meat
wafted across to Lisa’s cage, and the celebration went on long into the
night. For
the next four days the beatings ceased. Lisa was still kept caged and naked,
her wrists tied together, but her meal times passed without punishment and
even the wives restricted themselves to taunts through the bars and
occasionally spitting on her. For the confused girl, this respite was
something of a relief, though the strain of being constantly caged and, worst
of all, forcibly naked, still told on her. Then, on the fifth day, things changed. She knew something was afoot when she
saw the fire being built in the centre of the square beside the platform. All
morning wood was dragged in from outside and thrown onto the blaze, which
rose high into the sky, crackling noisily. At any moment Lisa expected some
kind of ceremony to commence but, apart from those attending to the blaze,
the square remained quiet. As the day wore on, the flames died down, and the
men tended to the embers, from which a shimmering heat haze began to rise.
Then, late in the afternoon, the villagers began to gather about the square. When the guards came for Lisa, it was completely
unexpected. One minute she had been sitting in the corner of her cage gazing
out, and the next the door was open and two men were pulling her to her feet. They each took her by the arm and
frogmarched her out of her cell and toward the compound gates, which were
swung open as they approached. Lisa was surprised at the size of the crowd
that had gathered. She hadn’t seen this many people in the square since her
arrival, and there was a definite air of expectation as she was led out into
the centre. They took her to the edge of the
platform, which was about three feet high, and indicated that she was to sit
on it. It was made of stone, like some kind of primitive altar, and it felt
hard against her backside as she hoisted herself onto it. They took her arms
and pulled them up over her head, securing them to the post that projected
from the centre of the slab. Then they grabbed her ankles and dragged her
legs apart, tying them to rings set into the side of the platform. Lisa was trapped and helpless before
them. She raised her head and stared down between her breasts at the watching
crowd. What could they have in mind? Was she to be publicly fucked? Or
flogged? At once her mind was filled with erotic images of what they might do
to her, images that sent a spasm through her body making her nipples harden
at once. But there was no sign of a rampant cock
about to penetrate her, or of a whip or cane. Instead the crowd parted and a
small, wizened old man made his way to the centre. He was decorated in the
most extraordinary manner, with a bone necklace and bone earrings, his skin
painted bright colours and his head adorned with brightly coloured feathers.
At his waist hung a large bag and in his hand he held yet another bone. This
looked suspiciously like a human femur, and Lisa watched him warily as he
waved it over her prone form. He began chanting, moving the bone back
and forth over her as he did so. For a horrible moment Lisa wondered if this
could be some kind of human sacrifice, but she could see no weapons. The chanting went on for about ten
minutes, then the man placed his bone down on the slab beside her and pulled
the bag from his waist, opening the top and placing it on the platform. He reached inside and Lisa squinted to
see what he held in his hand. Her heart leapt when she saw. It was a
cut-throat razor that gleamed brightly in the sunlight. Once again thoughts
of human sacrifice crossed her mind, but when he approached her it wasn’t her
neck that he reached for. It was her pubis. He began to run the razor down her
mound, each stroke carrying away a swathe of the short, dark hairs that
adorned it. He worked quickly, denuding her mons in no time and then starting
on her sex lips, scraping away every wisp of hair until she was as clean as when
she had been born. Lisa watched the whole exercise, her
head raised, wincing as the razor was brought so close to the centre of her
desires. She wondered what she must look like, her sex so ruthlessly
displayed. The lack of hair felt strange to her, the air oddly cool against
her flesh, and she felt a heightening of her arousal as she contemplated the
sight she must offer. The man reached into his bag again and
withdrew something else. It was a long spike, needle sharp at the tip and
widening to a few millimetres diameter at the base. He held it up and
examined it, then picked something else from the bag and showed it to the
crowd, who gave a murmur of approval. He carried the two objects over to
where Lisa lay and showed them to her. An odd, cold sensation suddenly invaded
Lisa’s stomach. The second object was a brass ring, of the sort worn by the
goats through their noses. It was nearly an inch in diameter, the brass being
at least an eighth of an inch thick. The ring was not a complete circle, a
gap of about a quarter of an inch having been opened in its circumference. Lisa drew in her breath. The ring was
for her. There could be no doubt about it. But where would they put it? The
goats wore theirs through their noses. Surely they wouldn’t disfigure her
face in the same way? But where else was there? Her ears? She didn’t have to wait long to find
out, and when she did she could barely believe it. The man began running his
fingers up her newly shaven slit, holding the lips between finger and thumb
and sliding up towards her clitoris. He fumbled around for a few seconds,
testing the thickness of the flesh, then grasped the skin just beside her
love bud and picked up the spike. “No!” The word barely escaped Lisa’s lips
before a hand was clamped over her mouth from behind. She watched wide-eyed
as the man brought the sharp point of the spike against her flesh. It must have been even sharper than she
had expected, because it penetrated her flesh quickly and cleanly, giving her
no more than a pinprick as he slid it through the fold of pink flesh, wiping
away the drop of blood that began to well from it. He worked quickly and expertly, picking
up the ring and forcing it through the hole he had made. Then he pulled a
hammer from the bag and, positioning the ring on the stone, gave it a single
sharp knock, closing the ring so well that the join was virtually invisible.
He reached into his bag once more, withdrawing a small jar. He dipped into it
with one finger and smeared a small amount of paste onto the wound. The paste
stemmed what little bleeding there was instantly. It had all taken no more than ten
seconds, and there had been hardly any pain at all. Lisa couldn’t believe
what had been done to her. She shook away the hand that covered her mouth and
stared down at herself. The ring gleamed brightly against her bare thighs, an
extraordinarily erotic adornment that she knew would draw attention to her
crotch and would excite any man that saw it. But Lisa’s ordeal was not over yet. No
sooner had the man finished than she felt hands at her wrists and ankles
again. They turned her over to lie on her stomach, her breasts pressed flat
against the stone. Then they tied her legs to the platform once more so that
she was bent forward over the slab, her arms pulled out in front of her, her
backside raised for all to see. It was then that she remembered the
other distinguishing mark on the Chief’s goats. The brand! Every one of the animals bore
the mark of the leaping lion on its rump! With a sense of deep foreboding Lisa
turned to the fire, just in time to see the old man withdraw the brand from
the embers. Suddenly something was being held close
to her face. She blinked at it. It was a thick piece of leather. The hand
pressed it against her mouth, then she understood. She opened her mouth and
took it between her jaws, biting down hard. Then she clenched her teeth and,
taking one last look at the man approaching her with the glowing rod, closed
her eyes. “Mmfff!” Her cry was muffled by the leather as
the searing pain of the brand swept through her body. It had been thrust onto
her right buttock, and she could hear the sizzle as it burnt into the soft
flesh there. The man held it in place for about three seconds, although to
Lisa it seemed forever, the pain of the red-hot metal more dreadful than
anything else that had been inflicted on her since her enslavement. She
clenched the leather between her teeth, biting so hard she felt as if she
would actually take a chunk out of it, the tears running down her face as the
agony continued. When, at last, the man removed the brand, she was sobbing
uncontrollably and she barely heard the low cheer that went up from the
onlooking crowd. Something was slapped over the burnt
flesh. Some kind of ointment that smelt oddly sweet, and almost at once the
pain subsided. Lisa turned her head to see the man smoothing a white fluid
where he had branded her. She had no idea what the potion was, but it felt
deliciously cool after the heat of the iron. At the same time hands were
undoing the bonds that held her arms and legs and in no time she was rising
somewhat unsteadily to her feet. The man held out a cup to her, which she
took in both hands, her wrists being still fastened. She raised it gingerly
to her lips and took a sip. It tasted slightly bitter, but not unpleasant.
The man gestured for her to drink more, and she lifted it again, this time
draining it. The liquid flowed down to her stomach, where it had an odd,
warming effect on her. She handed back the cup, then looked out at the crowd
again and was surprised to discover that she could not focus properly. She
shook her head, and it felt heavy, as if she was wearing an iron helmet. She
opened her mouth, but suddenly none of her muscles seemed to work properly.
She tried to take a step, but her legs failed to respond to her brain and she
found herself toppling forward into the arms of two guards. Then a sudden
blackness enveloped her and she fell into a deep stupor. Chapter
24 Lisa had
no idea how long they kept her in her drugged state. She had vague
recollections of food being spooned up to her mouth, and of hands dressing
the wounds made to her body on that fateful afternoon, but otherwise the
whole thing was a blank. She knew she was kept in a hut, because she could
remember the smoky smell and the softness of the blanket on which she lay,
and the lingering bitterness in her mouth told her that they had continued to
administer the drug that had knocked her out originally. Of the rest of the
time, however, she remembered nothing. She awoke to find herself lying on the
floor of her cage in the Chief’s compound. She opened her eyes and blinked up
into the sunlight that flooded her small cell. She felt no ill effects. It
was as if she had simply been asleep. As if the days and possibly weeks that
had passed were but a single night. She looked down at herself. Her wrists
were bound behind her, but the rope used previously had been replaced by iron
manacles joined by a short chain. These must have been made for her whilst
she was drugged. They fitted snugly about her wrists, with no way that she
could see of removing them, though the chain between had a catch in its
centre. The manacles were attached to the bars of her cage by about six feet
of stout chain. Something else had changed too. Her
collar had been removed, and for the first time in a long while she was able
to move her head without it chafing. Then Lisa’s eyes fell on her sex and she
gave a gasp of surprise. Her mound was still quite devoid of hair. Not even
any stubble showed. Clearly some kind of permanent depilation method had been
used on her whilst she was unconscious. But it was the ring that really caught
her attention. There it was, large and shining, piercing her in her most
intimate place, its presence drawing attention to her sex and accentuating
her nakedness and vulnerability. It was the most extraordinary body ornament
she had ever seen. Then she remembered the brand. She
rolled over and struggled to her feet. This took more effort than she
expected and she was obliged to lean against the side of the cage for a few
seconds to regain her breath. She soon felt better though, and twisted her
body round, squinting down at her backside. There it was. The rampant lion. The
Chief’s mark indelibly printed on her pale flesh. She had expected an ugly
disfigurement, but it was more like a birthmark, not more than an inch long,
etched into her behind, high on the right cheek. To Lisa there was something
oddly erotic about its presence, especially combined with the ring. They were
marks of the Chief’s ownership of her. Signs that she belonged to another.
Signs that would only be seen when she was naked, confirming once and for all
that that was how she would remain for as long as she was his. Naked and
branded for all to see. She walked across the few feet the cage
allowed to gaze through the bars into the village, and at once another
feature of the ring in her sex became clear to her. It had been positioned
most artfully, so that, whenever she walked, it would rub against her
clitoris. The effect was instant, her sensitive little bud hardening at once,
making the friction even more pronounced. Lisa’s face reddened as she
realised how aroused the sensation was making her, and she stood still,
waiting for the feeling to subside. The guard visited her about an hour
later, bringing her food, releasing her wrists and standing silently by
whilst she ate. Then he secured her arms once more and was gone, leaving her
alone with her thoughts. For the next three days Lisa was
undisturbed, her only visitor being the guard who came with her food and to
replace the buckets supplied for her ablutions. She spent much of the time
staring out into the village, afraid to move about too much because of the
effect that the ring had on her. Then, on the fourth day, she saw the young
warriors being paraded and she knew another of their tracking exercises was
about to begin. She watched the young men marching back
and forth, shouting their war cries. Then the gate to the compound was opened
and she waited to see which of the unfortunate goats was to be the subject of
their hunt. But this time it was different. This
time the senior wife headed, not for the small herd of goats, but for Lisa’s
cage. The young captive watched in puzzlement as the woman unlocked the door
and stepped inside. She gestured for Lisa to turn round, releasing the chain
that held her to the bars. Then she turned her round again, kicking her
ankles so that she was obliged to stand with her legs apart. The woman knelt
down before her and, from her belt, produced a shiny chain, like a dog’s
lead. She reached for Lisa’s sex, taking hold of the ring, her fingers
sliding surreptitiously into the girl’s vagina as she did so, eliciting a small
gasp from her. There was a click, and Lisa realised
with a shock that the chain had been fastened to her ring. No wonder they had
dispensed with her collar, she thought. Once the woman had made certain that
it was secure, she rose to her feet and gave a little tug, pulling Lisa’s
hips forward in a most provocative way. Then, apparently satisfied, she
beckoned to her, turning and walking out into the compound. Lisa followed, her face glowing as she
walked into the arena, the chain attached to her sex gleaming in the
sunshine. The warriors were all watching, their eyes fixed on her body. With
each step she felt the wetness inside her increase as the ring rubbed against
her love bud, so that by the time she was brought to a halt beside the
platform she was panting slightly. A crowd had gathered around the arena,
talking excitedly and pointing at her. All of a sudden they went quiet, and
Lisa turned to see the Chief emerging from his hut. He strode out into the centre, stopping
to examine his young slave. His wife gave him the lead and he tugged at it,
grinning with delight as he saw how it forced Lisa’s hips forward. The girl
remained silent, her eyes cast downward. The Chief made his way to the
platform and stood before it, surveying the group of warriors in front of
him. There were about fifteen of them, banging their spears against their
shields and stamping their feet. The Chief held his hand up for silence,
and the men ceased their banging at once. Then he beckoned and Lisa was led
forward to stand in front of him. He began to speak, and Lisa could tell
from his gestures and the way the men leered at her that she was the subject
of his talk. He indicated the ring through her sex, then made her turn and
bend over to show off the brand on her behind. There was much laughter and
clapping as this went on, and Lisa kept her eyes on the ground, unable to
face those of the crowd. Suddenly the Chief barked an order, and
one of Lisa’s guards sprang out from the crowd. He dropped to his knees in
front of her and unhitched her lead, pausing to stroke her sex as he did so.
Then he produced a long stick from his belt, and the crowd hurriedly cleared
on one side of the square. Only then did Lisa realise what was
required of her. The men were going on one of their hunts all right, but this
time it wasn’t a goat that they were after. It was her. She was to be their
quarry. Naked and alone, her hands manacled at her back, she was to be
pursued through the wild bush by a group of excited hunters. And what would
they do when they caught her? Lisa shuddered at the thought. No man had had
her since the night of whoring for Okama’s men. Now she was faced by fifteen
lusty warriors, all of whom were clearly chafing at the bit to get their
hands on her. Of course she should have guessed the
Chief’s plan earlier. For hadn’t they decorated her in the same way as they
did the goats, with a brass ring and a brand on her backside? These were both
clearly intended to show her status as no more than a kind of domestic animal
to them. Whack! The time to contemplate her fate was
suddenly past as the guard brought his cane down across her rump with a hefty
swipe, stinging her flesh dreadfully. At once she began to run, making for
the gap in the crowd, her guard in hot pursuit. Whack! She jumped forward as the stick caught
her on the behind once more, making her increase her pace. The crowd were
cheering now as she raced across the square, her breasts bouncing with every
pace, the ring in her sex glinting in the sunlight. Whack! She reached the edge of the square and
the people surged forward, grabbing at her breasts and sex, pinching her
flesh and laughing aloud at her discomfort. And still her pursuer urged her
on. Whack! Another stinging blow bit into her
behind as she broke through the cordon and headed off down the open track,
running blindly now, intent only on getting away from the guard and his awful
weapon. Whack! Yet again the cane fell across her
burning buttocks. Then the man was falling behind and Lisa raced on alone for
the cover of the bush, trying to put as much distance as possible between
herself and the village before the warriors set off on her trail. She ran on for some time, until her
breath was rasping in her throat. Then she slowed to a walking pace, occasionally
glancing over her shoulder to assure herself that she was not yet being
pursued. All of a sudden she realised with dismay
that her bare feet were leaving a trail of footprints in the dust. She cursed
her stupidity. The men following her were experienced bushmen. At this rate
they would find her easily. She looked about. Off to her left was an outcrop
of rock. Surely not even the Chief’s warriors could track her there. She
turned from the path and headed for it as fast as she was able. Lisa climbed up onto the rocks with the
agility of a young gazelle, despite her inability to use her hands. Once at
the highest point, she paused for a second, glancing about her to ascertain
the best route. Then she set off, jumping from rock to rock, content that she
was leaving no clue as to where she had gone. She followed the rocky spur for some
distance, until ahead she espied a patch of vegetation amid the parched
African landscape. Such greenery meant there must be water nearby, and a new
plan to outwit her trackers hatched in her mind. She headed towards the spot,
still trying her best to keep her feet out of the dust of the plain. As she
came closer, she had to push her way through the bushes, dodging from side to
side to avoid scratching her naked flesh on the thorns. At last she found
herself on the edge of a river. It was then that she put her plan into
action. She knew that walking through the stream would mean that she would
leave no discernible footprints, and she was determined to do her very best
to avoid capture. She stepped forward and felt the temperature of the river
with her toe. It was surprisingly cool and she shivered as she moved out
toward the centre of the stream. The water rose about her legs, coming higher
until she felt its cold touch against her bare sex. Then she turned and began
to stride upstream, her movements lumbering as she took on the current. She walked in this way for more than
fifteen minutes. She might have gone further, but she met a high waterfall,
and found herself quite unable to climb the steep banks beside it. She turned inland again, making her way
up the side of a large hill that rose up from the plain. She skirted its
side, trying to conceal herself behind the bushes as she did so, aware of how
conspicuous her pale flesh was. Eventually she found a rocky outcrop high on
the side of the hill and paused there in the gap between the boulders to
rest. She stared out across the plain. They
were out there somewhere, she knew it, that band of randy young warriors
intent on finding the naked slave and carrying her back to their camp. She
squinted into the sunlight, trying to pick out a figure in the shimmering
heat haze, but could see none. She sat down on the hot stone, resting
her back against it and making herself as comfortable as she was able,
despite the awkward way her hands were trapped behind her. She gazed down at
her body. Lisa had never felt so vulnerable, totally unprotected against
anyone who should chance upon her, even her pubic hair removed so that her sex
was on view to anyone who saw her. The thought sent a perverse little thrill
through her. The chafing of the ring against her love bud had been a constant
distraction ever since she had left the village, and she had struggled to
keep her mind off the delicious sensation it gave her as she walked along.
Now she was at rest the sensation had ceased, but still she could not help
feeling horny. It had been weeks since she had had an orgasm. Weeks in which
she had been exposed to all manner of humiliation, punishment and titillation
without any actual contact with the strong men who were all around her. She
thought of her night whoring in the village, and the number of men who had
taken her with no consent asked or given, of the way she had capitulated to
their every desire, sucking and fucking them with abandon. Suddenly Lisa was feeling very turned on
indeed. The deprivation of the past weeks, combined with her exposed position
and the ring that rubbed so tantalisingly against her clitoris making her
sexual appetite increase with every moment. All at once she knew she must get
relief. But how? Her hands were trapped behind her, unable to reach the
centre of her desires, and there was nothing she could see around that could
satisfy her. Then she remembered the tree she had
passed a short time before. It had been old and dead, its branches bare and
cleaned completely of bark. One of the branches spread out horizontally less
than three feet from the ground, and jutting up from it had been the remains
of another branch, about eight inches long, projecting vertically from it.
Just like a cock, she remembered saying to herself as she had passed. And now
she couldn’t get that idea out of her mind. Dare she go back to it? A shudder ran
through her frame as she contemplated the idea. It was outrageous and
shameful even to think about. And yet the more she did think about it the
more aroused she became, the muscles of her sex convulsing and making the
brass ring scrape against her love bud once more. She stared down at herself. Her nipples
were like bullets, her breasts shaking slightly as her hips began to gyrate.
What was it that gave her these carnal cravings? Why was it that she was so
lascivious that even the idea of fucking a tree brought a desire that she
found herself barely able to control? Surely other women didn’t respond as
she did? But she knew she was past the point of resisting the urge to bring
herself off. The cravings within her were just too great. She needed to
relieve this tension inside her, no matter how immodest her behaviour would
have to be in order to do it. She struggled to her feet and peered
over the rock. There was nobody in sight. It was as if she was completely
alone in this wilderness, though she was only too aware if the hunting party
which even now was seeking her. She stepped out from her hiding place,
glancing guiltily about as she did so. Then she began to make her way back
down the track. She continued to check all around her as
she walked. Now that she knew what she was going to do, the sensation of her
ring seemed even more intense, her love bud protruding between her bare
sex-lips, small drops of moisture threatening to escape onto her thighs at
any moment. She rounded a bend in the track, and
there was the tree in front of her, just as she had remembered it. It stood
in the centre of a clearing, the branch that so fascinated her running almost
horizontally about three feet off the ground, and about nine inches in
diameter. And there, in the centre, was the protuberance she had seen
earlier, standing almost straight upwards, the length and girth of a man’s
cock. She moved towards it slowly, suddenly
guilty about her intentions. When she reached it she turned around so that
she could place her hands on the wood. It felt rough and warm to the touch,
and, as she groped higher, her fingers closed about the broken branch. She ran her fingers up its length. It
was smoother than the main branch, but with a number of knobbly lumps down
its length. She thought of what these might feel like inside her, and a new
spasm of desire shook her body. Her mind was made up. No matter how
wanton her behaviour, she badly needed filling with something long and hard.
She was so wet now that drops were forming on the brass ring and dripping
down onto the sand. With one last guilty look about her, she turned and
straddled the tree. She settled down, enjoying the rough
feel of the wood against the tender flesh of her sex. She moved her hips back
and forth, revelling in the sensation. When she lifted her body again, she
left behind a perfect imprint of her open sex on the wood, formed by the
fluids that leaked from her. She moved forward, so that the erect branch was
pressing against the bare white mound of her pubis. Then she raised herself
up and manoeuvred her body so that the end of the branch was pressing against
the entrance to her vagina. She lowered herself slowly, gasping
aloud as she felt herself penetrated by the wooden phallus. She forced
herself down, revelling in the delicious sensation as the hard, unyielding
wood rubbed against the walls of her sex, causing her juices to run even more
copiously. She pressed and pressed until she felt her stretched sex lips come
into contact with the base of the branch and she knew the wooden object was
all the way inside her. For a second she paused, revelling in the sensation
of having her cunt filled after so long. She wondered again at what it was
that had made her so totally abandoned to the pleasures of her body. After
all it was not so long since she had been technically a virgin, and had
eschewed any thoughts of carnal behaviour. Now here she was, so desperate for
sexual relief that she was masturbating herself whilst naked in the open air
for all to see. She began to move, flexing her knees and
working her body up and down. “Ahhh!” The cry came out before she was able to
suppress it. The sensation was wonderful, the knobbly surface of the wood
stimulating her beautifully as she worked her body up and down, her breasts shaking
with every stroke. Already she could feel her orgasm building inside her and
she closed her eyes and threw back her head, intent only on her own pleasure. When the hard, metallic object pressed
against her nipple she barely noticed it at first, so absorbed was she in her
masturbation. When the second one was pushed against her other breast though,
she suddenly stopped moving and opened her eyes. Then she gave a cry of
dismay. There, grinning broadly, their spear
points pressed against her chest, were two of the Chief’s warriors. Chapter
25 Lisa’s
face blushed scarlet as she realised she had been caught in the act. She had
no idea how long the men had been watching her, but there was no doubt that
they had seen everything and she cursed herself for having left a perfectly
good hiding place for such a reason. Why had she been so weak as to have
given way to her desires so easily? And what must they think of her,
disporting herself in so shameless a fashion in front of them? Even now her
hips were moving, driving down against the phallus in the most overt manner. One of the men tossed aside his spear
and shield and moved closer to her. He was tall and black as ebony, his lips
thick and his eyes dark brown. She could smell him now, a smell of wood smoke
and sweat, and she shied away instinctively as he reached for her breast,
grabbing it and squeezing it roughly in his palm. He spoke a word to his
companion, and the man laughed, tossing aside his own weapons and grabbing
hold of Lisa’s arm. Together they lifted her bodily from
where she was perched, the wooden phallus sliding out of her, shiny with her
juices. The mens’ hands were rough, and they showed no tenderness as they
dragged her screaming away from the log and hurled her onto the ground. She tried
to get up, but one of the men grabbed her shoulders, pinning her to the hard
earth whilst the other kicked her ankles apart. Lisa continued to try to
wriggle from the warrior’s clutches, but even now the whole scene had a sense
of inevitability about it, and when the other man dropped his loincloth and
she saw his stiff, rampant organ jutting proudly from his groin like a great
black flagpole, she knew there was no escaping what was to follow. He fell on her, showing no finesse or
consideration as he reached for her sex, pulling her slit open with his
fingers. He positioned his thick glans against the hot, wet entrance to her
love-hole, then pushed hard, ramming his cock into her open vagina, eliciting
a cry of surprise from his struggling captive. Almost at once he began to
fuck her hard, whilst his friend continued to hold her down. Lisa strained hard to free herself, but
in vain. Even without her arms tied, she was no match for these two strong,
lusty warriors. All at once, she realised the futility of her resistance and,
with a sob, she stopped struggling. Sensing her surrender the man who was
holding her removed his hands from her shoulders and began mauling at her
breasts, pinching the nipples between his fingers, a delighted grin spreading
across his features as he contemplated what awaited him. It was the roughest, most dispassionate
onslaught Lisa had ever experienced. Her seducer’s hips pounded against her
own, and the rough, stony ground dug into her back in the most painful
manner. And yet, once she had stopped resisting,
she couldn’t suppress the lustful feelings that rose up inside her as he took
her. To have a cock inside her was precisely what she had desired only
minutes before. And now here she was, being shafted mercilessly by this cruel
stranger, his thick member ramming in and out of her, shaking her body with
every stroke. And all at once she too was gasping with passion, pressing her
hips up against his, suddenly revelling in the rough fucking she was getting He came suddenly, and Lisa felt herself
filled with hot, sticky fluid that pumped endlessly from him. The sensation
was too much for her and she let herself go, her shouts of pleasure ringing
through the air as an intense orgasm overtook her, her body flailing about on
the ground as she accepted his seed deep within. All at once he was gone. He rose to his
feet, his cock wet and glistening, a long streak of semen hanging from the
end. But he still hadn’t done with her. He came round to her face, grabbing a
handful of hair and forcing his still stiff member into her mouth. He held
her fast as she licked him clean. Even as she was doing so she felt her
thighs dragged roughly apart once more and another stiff penis driving into
her. Her second ravisher showed no more
consideration than had the first, his urges like those of a wild animal, a
rutting stag that takes his female for his own pleasure alone, seeing her as
no more than something to relieve his needs. He came quickly, yet still he
invoked a loud and passionate orgasm in the wanton young girl as spurt after
spurt of his semen emptied into her already brimming cunt. Like his companion he did not linger,
pulling out quickly. He too made her lick her juices from him before rising
to his feet, leaving her where she was, moaning and writhing. For a while she remained prone, her eyes
tightly shut, too ashamed to look at her ravishers. Then suddenly, from all
around, voices began to be heard. The rest of the men emerged in ones and
twos from the bush, each one gazing hungrily at the girl who lay before them,
her thighs spattered with semen. For a moment she thought they would all take
her then and there, but their reticence made it clear to her that this reward
was restricted to the pair that had first caught her. There was much chatter, and she knew
that her captors were telling the others how they had found her impaled on
the log. Indeed the protrusion was still wet with the evidence of her
lascivious behaviour. Then one of the men said something, and there was much
laughter from his companions as he produced a machete from his belt and began
hacking at the tree branch. Lisa had to roll aside as the woodchips flew from
the blade, and in no time the branch was severed. What happened next took the young
captive by surprise. The men undid the chain on her manacles, and fastened
her hands in front of her, threading the branch through her arms. Then
someone produced some rope and bound her ankles together over the top of the
wood. Once she was secure the men each placed a hand on the branch and, with
a shock, she felt herself lifted clear of the ground as the men hoisted the
makeshift pole onto their shoulders and set off through the bush, with Lisa
hanging from it like the hunting trophy that she was. The men made swift progress, their
unfortunate quarry swinging back and forth as they followed the path back to
the village. Lisa’s bonds were tight and they chafed painfully as she hung
helpless between them, so it was a relief for her when the village came into
view, though she was filled with trepidation about the welcome she would
receive. As they strode in, the people came out to greet them, laughing and
pointing at the tethered girl, who blushed deeply, aware that her thighs were
dripping with semen. They carried her right to the middle of the square, and
lowered her to the ground. They left her there, her wrists and
ankles still bound, whilst they slipped the branch out. Lisa watched puzzled
as, amid much laughter, they carried it over to the stage and began lashing
the top of it against the totem with stout rope. By the time they had finished the branch
was fast, leaning at an angle of about twenty degrees from the vertical, the
top attached high up the totem whilst the base rested on the ground in front
of the stage. It had been positioned such that the stump on which Lisa had
sought to pleasure herself earlier was pointing outwards. Once they were satisfied with this, the
men turned back to their prize, who still lay prostrate in the dust. They
undid her ankles and led her to the branch. All at once Lisa realised their
intentions, and tried to pull back. “No!” she cried, but the men paid no
attention. Instead they took hold of her thighs and lifted her up, spreading her
legs wide as they did so. Lisa tried to struggle, but there were too many of
them, and they held her firmly as they carried her towards the branch. Fingers reached for her sex, spreading
the lips apart and guiding her towards the wooden protrusion. Lisa gave a
gasp as she felt the hard, dry object come into contact with her sex. Then
the men pushed her forward and for the second time that day she found herself
being impaled on the thick, hard protrusion. She moaned quietly as she felt herself
penetrated, the sensation at once deliciously stimulating and mortifyingly
embarrassing before the eyes of her audience. The villagers crowded about,
watching intently, occasionally shouting out words of encouragement as the
men forced the wood deeper and deeper into her until it would go no further.
Her clitoris pressed hard against the branch. Then they produced more ropes,
fastening her wrists above her head and securing her ankles to rings in the
ground, leaving her legs trapped wide apart. Finally a strap was wrapped
about her waist, holding her belly tight against the wood. Lisa’s position was one of complete
helplessness, her arms and legs immobilised, her breasts forced apart on
either side of the branch, her sex at once wonderfully and viciously
penetrated, the chafing of the wood against her love bud bringing a new surge
of arousal to her naked body. She gazed back over her shoulder. The
warriors had gathered in a semi-circle, with the crowd of villagers behind
them. As she watched, two men stepped forward, and she recognised them at
once as the two who had captured her. She gave a sharp intake of breath as
she saw that both were carrying long, thin horsewhips made of leather. The crowd began to shout encouragement
as they moved toward her, wielding the frightening weapons as they did so.
Lisa pressed herself against the wood, as if trying to pull her vulnerable
body away from the pair, but it was a futile gesture. The men took up positions on either side
of their captive. Then, without further ceremony, they drew back the whips. Swish! Whack! The two whips fell as one, striking
Lisa’s pale behind at the same instant, planting parallel stripes above and
below the swelling mounds. Swish! Whack! A second double blow hit her, one on her
back, the other on her legs, each one stinging dreadfully. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Lisa could barely distinguish one blow
from the other, so perfectly were they timed, the pain from each reaching her
simultaneously. Swish! Whack! This time both struck her backside once
again, shoving her body forward against the branch and triggering the
reaction she dreaded, but that she had known was inevitable. The movement of
the wooden post buried so intimately inside her was having its desired
effect, and she groaned as a bolt of pleasure shot through her. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Still the blows cut into her bare flesh,
and still the force rammed her against the branch, causing her hips to move
and stimulating her cunt to weep new juices onto the stout wooden object that
filled it so completely. Lisa fought to control her emotions, trying
desperately to concentrate on the intense pain that seared her with every
stroke. But it was the sensation in her vagina that was taking the upper hand
and she could feel the hardness of her love bud as it chafed against the
wood. Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Now, whenever the two whips struck her
body, regardless of where they hit her, she was thrusting her hips forward
against the tree, the cheeks of her backside alternately clenching and
relaxing as she literally fucked the branch, the wood making a squelching
sound as the combination of cunt juice and semen leaked out from between her
twitching nether lips Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! Swish! Whack! “Oh! Oh! Ahhh...” Lisa’s orgasm was noisy and public, her
hips jabbing against the wood as she finally lost control and screamed out
her passion. Oblivious to the blows that continued to rain down on her
unprotected flesh, she was, at that moment, intent only on wringing every
last drop of pleasure from the unyielding wooden phallus that filled her so
completely. They went on beating her for another
five minutes, blow after blow cutting into her lovely young flesh. But each stroke
simply served to prolong her orgasm, and when they finally stopped, their
faces dripping with perspiration, Lisa was still banging her hips against the
wood, her groans now turned to hoarse grunts. One of the men moved close to her and
she felt his hand run down over her backside, his finger slipping down her
crack. “Ah!” Once again the tormented girl’s cry rang
out as he forced his finger into the tight hole of her anus, pressing her
body hard against the branch so that the protrusion penetrated still deeper.
The action sent a new orgasm through her, despite her exhaustion, and much to
the delight of the crowd. Then they were cutting her down,
releasing her wrists and ankles and locking her manacles behind her once
more. But any hopes she had that her ordeal was over were dashed as she was
lifted up onto the platform. She stood, hands trapped behind her, her
legs akimbo as the men began to remove the branch from the totem. She knew
she made quite a sight, the rear of her body striped with innumerable marks
from the whips, her nipples standing out long and hard on her prominent
breasts. Below her sex lips were puffy and swollen, love juice and sperm
streaked down her thighs, the cunt ring constantly in motion as the muscles
of her sex twitched intermittently. Once the branch was removed they forced
her down on her knees, her wrists once again released and locked, this time
behind the totem. Her ankles too were tied to the other side of the post,
then straps were produced. The first was fitted round her belly and round the
back of the totem, the thick leather cutting into her flesh as her back was
pressed hard against the wood, making the whip marks sting anew. A second was
placed just below her breasts, with a third about her neck, pulled just tight
enough so that she could breathe, but barely move her head. The bondage position was the most
restricting and uncomfortable she had experienced since her ordeals had first
begun, her gorgeous young body held rigid against the pole, her legs spread
wide and her breasts thrust forward. The dark, heavy straps made a sharp
contrast to the pale, smooth flesh they constrained so completely. The crowd went quiet, watching
expectantly as the first of the warriors, one of the pair who had captured,
fucked and whipped her, mounted the stage to stand towering over her small
figure. He reached for his loincloth, undoing it in a single movement and
letting it drop to the ground. A small cheer went up from the crowd as his
cock came into view. It was completely rigid, soaring upward from his groin,
long and thick and twitching with arousal. Lisa watched as it bobbed up and
down in front of her face. Then he moved forward and she realised what was to
come. He pressed his glans against her lips.
At first she kept her mouth shut, unwilling to accept his long, black rod
inside. But he pushed forward insistently and, mindful of the consequences if
she refused, she reluctantly parted her lips. At once he was inside, and she closed
her mouth about his shaft, tasting the salty, musty aroma of his manhood as
he pressed it deeper into her throat. Once again there was no ceremony. He
simply began to fuck her face at once, his hips slamming against her head,
shaking her body and reviving once more the stinging from the whipping she
had just received. Lisa sucked hard at him, her tongue snaking up and down
the length of his organ, suddenly intent on bringing him the pleasure he
demanded. His thrusts were insistent, his heavy balls banging against her
chin as he pleasured himself. His orgasm came suddenly, his cock
giving an extra violent twitch before Lisa’s throat was suddenly filled with
his semen, his balls contracting as he pumped his seed into her mouth. She
did her best to gulp it down, trying not to choke as spurt after spurt struck
the back of her throat. He spent his load into her, then
withdrew, leaving her gasping for breath, twin trails of semen running from
the sides of her mouth. But she had little time to recover. Almost at once
his place was taken by the second of her captors, and in no time she found
her mouth filled by his stiff cock and was sucking hard as he began to thrust
into her with all the vigour that his companion had. His member was shorter
and thicker than his predecessor, forcing her jaw open wide to accommodate
it. Shortly afterwards her mouth was filled
with spunk for the second time, the hot glutinous fluid spurting relentlessly
from his throbbing manhood as she swallowed what she could and allowed what
she couldn’t to dribble down her chin and flow between her breasts. He withdrew and, picking up his
loincloth, jumped down from the stage. Then a third cock was standing before
Lisa’s face, and she realised with horror that the entire hunting band
intended to come off inside her mouth. The ordeal went on for more than an
hour, and soon Lisa found herself unable to distinguish one cock from another
as they were rammed down her throat, each one delivering a fresh helping of
sperm for her to gulp down. Her jaw ached, her limbs were seized with cramp
and the flesh on her back and behind stung dreadfully, but still they kept
coming and still she sucked and licked at them, waiting for the gasp of
pleasure and the gush of spunk that signified that they had been satisfied. At last, though, there were no more, and
hands began undoing the straps and the ropes at her ankles, though they left
her wrists trapped behind the totem. At first her limbs refused to obey her
and she remained slumped down on the stage. But gradually she felt her energy
return and she hauled herself slowly to her feet, finally standing erect, her
back pressed against the totem, her legs placed apart. Lisa was exhausted, her face, hair,
breasts and belly spattered with the semen of fifteen men, her back and
behind striped with the marks of their whipping. She stood, gazing down at
the crowd still gathered about the foot of the stage, too tired even to feel
shame at her degrading behaviour. They left her there for another two
hours, like some hunting trophy on display. Then she was released, the lead
attached to her cunt-ring and she was taken back to her cell where, without
even pausing to wash herself, she slumped to the ground and fell into a deep
sleep. Chapter
26 Time
passed. Days turned into weeks, then into months, until Lisa completely lost
track of how long she had been the naked captive of the people of the
village. There was a kind of routine to her life now, though she could never
quite be certain what each day would bring. Much of her time was spent in her cage,
though the hunting trips became a regular feature of her life, and at least
once a week she found herself kneeling on the stage and sucking off a queue
of men. They kept the branch too, so that the crowd were regularly treated to
the sight of the young white girl pleasuring herself on the wooden knob
whilst the whips cut into her behind. Then, one day, during the hunt, she
managed to elude her captors until nightfall, not realising at the time that
in the eyes of her pursuers this meant she was deemed to have won the contest.
As soon as it was dark the hunters lit torches to summon her back to the
village. At first, though, she didn’t realise what was happening and
contemplated making a genuine effort at escape, heading off under the cover
of the darkness in the hope of finding sanctuary. The bush by night was a
very different prospect than by day, however, and the cries of the animals
together with the strange shadows that lurked in the bushes soon drove her
back to the relative safety of the village. There she discovered that, having
won the game, no beating awaited her. Instead she was seated at a table with
the warriors and allowed to eat with them. After the meal they made her stand
on the table and masturbate to orgasm, but no other demands were made of her
and before long she was back in her cage and fast asleep. Once she realised that there was
something to be gained by remaining undiscovered she began to take the
hunting games more seriously, finding new and better ways to evade her
pursuers and managing to stay at liberty on more than one occasion. She was
not always so lucky, however. Once she stumbled into the camp of a group of
nomads who chased her through the bush, catching her and dragging her back to
their camp, where they laid her out on the ground and fucked her in turn.
When the warriors found her, tied to a tree, evidence of her ravishment clear
for them to see, they took her themselves before carrying her back for an
extra long dose of punishment. For the rest of the time, Lisa’s was a lonely
existence, spent pacing her cell. She worked out a series of exercises to
perform within the confines of the cage. These became a daily ritual and some
days she worked out for hours at a time, much to the amusement of her guards
who would gather to watch. This, along with her frequent forays into the bush
as the warriors’ quarry, and the frugal diet she was fed soon toned her body
beautifully. Her skin became tighter and smoother, and her breasts became
even more firm as a result of the exercises. The guards ensured that she was
kept out of the sun most of the time, so that her skin retained its paleness,
a quality that was clearly valued by her captors. But the one thing she could not grow
accustomed to was the continuous forced nudity. The fact that everyone who
encountered her was treated to the sight of her bare breasts and sex, and
that she was allowed absolutely no concession to modesty. Even when she was
standing still she was obliged to keep her legs apart at all times, and once
a week a poultice was spread over her pubis and sex lips to ensure that not a
scrap of hair grew there. Even after all these weeks she still found her face
glowing red every time she was paraded out in front of the village in
preparation for the hunt, wishing desperately even for a simple pair of
panties to hide her shame. Then, one morning, she witnessed an
unusual ceremony taking place in the square. A group of warriors had gathered
in full warpaint, chanting loudly, and at first she thought a hunt was in the
offing. Then, as she watched, Lisa saw three youths being led into the
centre. They were much younger than the other warriors, no more than
seventeen years old, and they appeared nervous as they confronted the more
experienced men. There followed an elaborate ceremony in
which the three were made to stand on the stage and recite some kind of
chant, after which paint was daubed on their bodies. Then they were led away
to a lone hut on the far side of the square and the door was closed behind
them. For the next week the three remained
ensconced in the hut whilst older men came and went and the old man who had
branded and pierced Lisa performed elaborate rituals outside, making fires
and daubing strange shapes on the walls of the hut. Meanwhile Lisa’s life took on a new
dimension as well. On the morning after the three men had been shut away, a
guard came and led her out to the Chief’s house. It was the first time she
had been inside the building since her arrival, and she felt a sinking
feeling as she was confronted by the Chief’s wives, the superior one in the
front, her face stern as ever. They released Lisa’s wrists and led her
to the middle of the room. There were two more young women there, both
dressed in bright clothes, and they giggled at the sight of the naked white
girl. All of a sudden a man appeared carrying
a drum made from animal hide. He set it down by the wall, and began to play,
beating out a loud and insistent rhythm. At once the two girls began to
dance, planting their legs apart and shaking their bodies back and forth,
then going through a series of elaborate steps, all the time keeping to the
beat. Lisa watched in fascination, enthralled by the sensuousness of the
dance as the pair thrust their hips forward in a blatantly sexual movement. The dance went on for about five minutes
before the drummer brought it to an end with a loud crescendo and the two
women collapsed laughing to the ground. The wives nodded their approval,
clapping their hands. Then the superior wife beckoned to Lisa. She made a sign to the drummer, who
began his beat once more. The woman turned to Lisa and gestured to her and at
once she realised what was required of her. They wanted her to do the dance. Lisa began to move, spreading her legs
and trying to imitate what she had just witnessed, her movements awkward,
making the other girls collapse into a fit of giggles at her attempt. The
woman watched for a short time, then pulled a thin whip from her belt. Thwack! She brought it down hard on Lisa’s
behind, making the girl wince with pain. There followed a tirade of angry
words. Then she called to the other pair and made them demonstrate the
opening moves once more. After that it was Lisa’s turn once again, and this
time she made a slightly better job of it. The training went on for more than three
hours, the woman not sparing the whip as Lisa struggled to get to grips with
the complicated movements. By the time she returned to her cage she was
exhausted, and hungrily devoured her simple meal. The training went on every morning for
the next few days, and each day Lisa’s performance improved until the woman
found no reason to use the whip on her. Lisa couldn’t understand why she was
being asked to perform in this way, but she guessed that there was some
purpose to it, and the anticipation of what that purpose might be made her
somewhat uneasy. Then, on the sixth day after her first
summons to the Chief’s house, she was woken early in the morning by her
guard, and given some food. A lead was clipped onto her cunt-ring and she was
led out of the compound and across the square to a hut on the far side, next
to the one daubed with the old man’s markings. The guard took her inside,
fastened her chain to the wall, then left her there alone, her arms manacled
behind her back. On one side of the hut was a small,
glassless window, about four inches square, and Lisa’s chain was just long
enough to allow her to reach it. She peered out onto the square. At first
there was no sign of life, the area being completely deserted, but gradually
the villagers began to appear. Then, about an hour later, she heard a
drumbeat, a sound that she knew meant only one thing. A hunt was due that
day. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the
warriors marched out and began to parade up and down. Today, however, there
seemed even more excitement than usual, and the sound of the spears drumming
against shields was almost deafening. Lisa eyed the men as they marched back
and forth. It was an elite troop, she knew, each man an experienced warrior.
There wasn’t one out there who hadn’t on some occasion been the first to
capture her over the past few months, and she blushed as she realised that
every man on the parade had fucked her, many more than once. Suddenly the drums went silent, and from
his compound on the far side, the Chief emerged, striding to the centre and
taking his place on the stage. There was a sound from the hut next to Lisa’s,
and she watched figures emerge from the doorway. It was the three youngsters,
dressed in the garb of the warriors, their bodies painted brightly, though
without the feathered headdresses their counterparts wore. A cheer went up
from the gathered village folk as they marched out to stand before the Chief. It dawned on Lisa that this was some
kind of initiation. Clearly the young men were new recruits to the warriors.
They had spent the previous week isolated, presumably being psyched up for
this, their first hunt. They appeared extremely excited now, their eyes wide
as they positively danced out to greet their chief amid much drumming and
banging of shields. What puzzled Lisa, though, was what her
part was to be in this ceremony. Normally they would have come for her by
now, yet here she stood alone in this strange place, a mere spectator. Wasn’t
she to be their quarry that day? Her question was answered almost at
once, as a goat was led out into the arena. Lisa watched as the familiar
ceremonies were enacted, then the unfortunate creature was chased out of the
village. Not long afterwards the warriors followed, the excited youngsters at
the fore, whooping and shouting as they ran. For the next two hours Lisa was left
alone once more, still puzzled as to why she was being treated in this way.
In many ways the anticipation of what might happen to her was almost as bad
as the realisation, and she fretted as she waited helplessly to discover her
fate. Then an odd sound reached her ears. One
that at first she couldn’t recognise at all, though she knew it should be
familiar to her. It grew louder by the second and she peered out trying to
see what it was. Then it came to her. It was the sound of
a diesel engine! It had been so long since she had heard a motor vehicle in
this god-forsaken spot that she had forgotten what one sounded like. Her
heart leapt as she considered its significance. A vehicle meant civilisation.
Europeans possibly. And a possible escape from this dreadful, savage place.
No wonder she had been taken from her cage. They must want to keep her out of
sight. She craned her neck to try to catch a glimpse of the vehicle, and was
finally rewarded by the sight of a blue Land Rover that pulled up to the edge
of the square opposite her hut and stopped. The doors opened, and Lisa gave a gasp
as she watched two men get out. They were white men. The first she had seen
since leaving England, an event that seemed a lifetime ago. One was tall,
about forty years old she guessed, though it was difficult to tell from that
distance. The other was shorter, with a broad belly. Both wore bush hats, and
both carried a revolver at their belts. Lisa wanted to call out to them, and she
prayed they would come closer. But they walked away from where she was
incarcerated and towards the chief’s compound. The day wore on, and Lisa continued her
solitary vigil. A number of people came and went from the Chief’s house.
Then, after more than two hours, the men emerged again, along with the Chief
and his wives. The Chief took up his position in the centre of the square
whilst the men went to the back of the vehicle and unloaded a long wooden
crate. Lisa watched as they carried the crate
across to where the Chief stood. One of the men produced a jemmy and began
levering the lid off. When it was open he took something from inside.
Something long and metallic that glinted in the sun. It was a modern, semi-automatic rifle. Lisa’s jaw dropped. They were gun
runners! She thought back to the day Okama had sold her to the Chief, and the
weapons that had changed hands. Obviously the Chief was a source of guns for
the rebels, though how he paid for them she had no idea. She watched as he
examined the rifle, then passed it to one of his wives who did the same.
Three more crates were removed, all containing guns and ammunition. The Chief
studied the contents of each one, before nodding and solemnly shaking the
hands of the two white men. The crates were carried off, and the
Chief returned to his compound with his guests. Once again all was quiet, and
Lisa was left alone with her thoughts. It was half an hour before she heard the
hunters returning, clearly in a state of high excitement. The young novices
led the parade, carrying the dead goat on a pole between them. Their faces
and chests were smeared with blood, and they were still in a frenzy of
excitement, urged on by the shouts and laughter of their older counterparts.
They set their prize on the ground and set about dismembering it. Soon the
smell of roasting meat met Lisa’s nostrils. The women of the village began setting
out tables and logs to sit on in the square, and Lisa realised that the
celebrations that afternoon would be special. Garlands of flowers were hung
from the trees, and pots of steaming maize meal were laid out as the
villagers began to gather. The Chief emerged, taking pride of place
at the centre of the tables. On either side he was flanked by the gun
runners. Then came his wives, followed by the rest of the village. The
warriors sat on the other side of the square at their own table, where they
made a good deal of noise. A group of drummers took up their places
by the stage and began a steady beat whilst the villagers and their guests
talked and ate. Lisa watched the proceedings through her window, a sense of
foreboding beginning to overtake her as she listened to the rhythm of the
drums. Her anxiety increased when, with a
sudden increase in tempo from the band, two figures suddenly emerged from the
sidelines and made their way to the centre of the arena. It was the two young
women who had shown Lisa the dance in the Chief’s hut, and now they began
their own dance in earnest, whirling their bodies around and prancing across
the ground. So intent was Lisa in watching the dance
that she failed to hear the man enter the hut. The first inkling she had of
his presence, in fact, was a hand that stole down between her legs from
behind, the fingers sliding into her vagina. She jumped and turned to see one of her
guards grinning at her. He pressed her back against the wall, his hand
approaching from the front this time, running down over the bare whiteness of
her mons and feeling for the soft flesh of her love nest. Lisa whimpered
softly as he penetrated her with a finger, twisting it round and grinning at
the immediate reaction in the young girl. He slid the finger out again and
held it to her lips for her to lick clean. Then he undid the lead from her
cunt-ring, removed the chain from her manacles and indicated the door. Lisa
held back, a questioning look on her face, her innocent young eyes wide. The
man grinned again, then went into a ridiculous charade, wiggling his hips and
waving his arms about. Lisa didn’t need any further
explanation. It was time for her to dance. Chapter
27 The
noise of the drums seemed to grow louder as Lisa stepped from her hut. It was
late afternoon, and the sun was still bright, the air heavy with wood smoke.
The guard made her wait by the door of the hut as the other women finished
their dance. For Lisa it felt odd to be standing in the open with her hands
free. Normally they were kept trapped behind her back at all times in an
effort, she suspected, to stop her masturbating. Now, as she waited to begin
her dance, she found herself wondering where to put them. She wanted to use
them to cover her private parts, but she knew the guard would punish her if
she tried, so she simply let them hang at her side. She thought of what was about to happen.
Having to appear in front of the village naked was bad enough. She hated the
way they stared at her, and hated even more the effect that their eyes had on
her, and the way her body responded to their gaze. But today it was even
worse. She was not only going to have to perform the dance they had taught
her, but she was to do it in front of the two white men as well. Somehow her
shame seemed far greater to be exhibiting herself before those men, though
she couldn’t fully explain why. It was as if the strange and alien culture of
the Africans made it somehow acceptable to behave in the way she did. But to
do it in front of these two Europeans was something quite different. Even
worse, they might be British, and that would make her mortification complete. The drums suddenly increased their
tempo, ending in a crescendo of sound, and cheers and whoops went up from the
crowd as the two girls scuttled off. Then the beat started again and Lisa
knew it was her turn. She listened for her cue, her heart hammering in her
chest, then jumped out from behind the hut. Standing there, suddenly exposed to the
sea of eyes, she almost froze. Then the drummers found their rhythm and she
dropped into the dance. In the relative privacy of the Chief’s
hut she had been able to put the eroticism of the movements to the back of
her mind, concentrating merely on the choreography. Now, though, with all
these eyes upon her, she found herself glowing with embarrassment as she went
through the motions, spreading her legs and bending her knees, thrusting her
hips forward as if fucking with some invisible partner, her cunt-ring
slapping against her love bud, making it harden and stand out from her sex
lips. She moved about with a wonderful fluidity,
her firm breasts bouncing up and down with the rhythm of her movements. She
held her hands above her head, her elbows bent, her breasts pressed forward.
The whole dance was extremely erotic, as if she was offering her lovely young
body to those watching. She stole a glance at the two gun
runners. They had clearly been surprised at the naked white girl’s sudden
appearance amongst the villagers. Now, as they watched her disport her body
in such a wanton manner their faces were creased in grins and they were
clapping along with the rhythm. The second phase of the dance involved
Lisa moving forward. During rehearsals this had seemed innocent enough, but
now she realised it would take her right up to where the Chief and his guests
were sitting. She knew she dare not deviate from the movements decreed by the
women, however, so she began slowly making her way toward the tables, still
swinging her hips and making her breasts bounce up and down to the music. She was right at the tables now, her
body still undulating in a fashion that emulated the most experienced
stripper. And as she moved, the thought of all those eyes upon her began to
arouse her latent exhibitionism. Intense thrills ran through her as she
openly displayed her charms to the crowd. At the same time the friction of
the cunt-ring against her clitoris was almost more than she could bear, and
she knew that already the lips of her sex were coated with moisture that must
be evident to all those watching. Suddenly, to her surprise, three figures
joined her on the square, their bodies moving in synchronisation with her
own. The watchers cheered as the young novice warriors danced about the girl,
their muscular black bodies making a striking contrast with her petite, pale
form. The three appeared to be in a lather of excitement, their eyes ablaze
as they hurled themselves about the square, uttering shrill cries as they did
so, cries that were echoed by the onlookers. They took it in turns to dance close to
her, their hands held up like hers, matching the thrusts of her hips with
their own, the bulges in their loincloths obvious as they pressed their
bodies against hers. Lisa’s arousal increased with every movement, her
nipples standing out firmly from her soft mounds, the sensation when they
brushed against the young mens’ chests sending pulses of excitement coursing
through her body. She could smell the sweat on their bodies as they closed in
about her and, on top of that, the all-pervading scent of male arousal, a
scent that made the wetness inside her course anew. The dance was approaching its climax
now, the movements of the four dancers almost frenzied as they lost
themselves in the rhythm of the drums. Lisa was making little grunting noises
of arousal as the mens’ bodies came into contact with hers, each one rubbing
his crotch against her open sex, then jumping aside to let the next man do
the same. With the final crescendo from the
drummers, Lisa came to a halt, her body bathed in sweat. Her chest heaved
with the effort of the dance, making her breasts quiver as they rose and
fell. But although the dance was finished, the young men hadn’t. They closed
in about Lisa, their hands groping for her body, squeezing her breasts and
reaching up between her legs to feel the heat and wetness there. Then, before
she knew what was happening, Lisa found herself being lifted and carried
across to where the Chief was sitting. They threw her down on the table,
sending crockery flying and spilling food and drink over her body. Lisa
glanced at the Chief, expecting anger, but he was laughing aloud at the young
mens’ antics, clapping his hands with delight. The three seemed hardly to
notice him as they pinned the struggling girl down amongst the discarded remnants
of the meal. Lisa felt her hair grasped and her head
pulled round to stare at the groin of the man standing beside her. At the
same moment he ripped off his loincloth to reveal his stiff cock. It was
enormous, long and black and throbbing with life. Yanking her head forward
the youngster rammed it into Lisa’s mouth, pressing it all the way in until
it reached the back of her throat, momentarily making her choke. At the same
moment she felt her thighs wrenched apart and another thick, solid penis was
suddenly violating her sex, ramming into her vagina with a force that took
her breath away. Lisa found herself being fucked hard,
stretched out on the table amidst the debris of the meal, another cock
pumping in and out of her mouth. She had stopped struggling now, aware that
the men were too strong for her and abandoning herself to her fate. The rough
shagging suddenly rekindled the arousal of the dance, so that her own hips
began to thrust upwards against her ravisher. Suddenly Lisa felt a pair of strong arms
about her waist, pulling her from the table and snatching the cock from her
mouth. The man who’s penis was buried inside her lifted her up and, placing
one hand under her backside and his other about her middle, began to dance
about the arena as she clung to his neck, her breasts pressed flat against
his chest. Whoops of laughter went up from the
crowd as the man danced before them, his cock still deeply embedded in the
girl, who gasped with pleasure as she bounced up and down on his rampant rod.
She thought of the sight they must make, their skins making such a total
contrast, his body heavy and ebony-coloured, hers shapely and white, the
thick, black shaft of his cock disappearing between the pink folds of her
vagina and his heavy balls slapping against her backside. All at once he was carrying her back to
the table where his two companions waited, both grasping their long, hard
members in anticipation of what was to come. This time the man turned his
back to the table and prostrated himself along its length, pulling Lisa down
on top of him. Lisa was almost shouting with arousal
now, and immediately began pumping her hips up and down, the delicious
sensation of his cock moving back and forth within her lifting her to new
heights. She raised her head and found herself staring into the eyes of one
of the gun runners, and for a second a wave of shame washed over her as she
realised what an exhibition she was making of herself. But then her head was
snatched round and she found herself once again with a mouthful of rampant
cock. She sucked hard at it, suddenly hungry
for the taste of spunk, her hand reaching for his shaft and beginning to wank
him enthusiastically. Then she felt something else. Something completely
unexpected. A pair of hands were prising the cheeks of her backside apart and
something hot and hard was pressing against her anus. There was a moment of resistance, of
sharp pain as her body tried to reject this unnatural intrusion. Then, with a
gasp, she felt him enter her, his thick weapon forcing its way deep into her
rectum, burying itself until the coarse tight curls of his pubic hair rubbed
against the flesh of her backside. Then she felt a hard, stinging slap on her
behind, which she knew was the signal to begin moving. She began to pump her hips back and
forth, feeling first one, then the other cock intrude deeper into her body
whilst she continued to suck at the member that was being thrust into her
mouth. Lisa could scarcely believe what was happening to her. Three thick,
black penises were invading her body. Three men were pleasuring themselves
inside her, their sweating flesh pounding against her small, soft body. And
they were doing it publicly, giving no concession to her shame as they drove
themselves hard into her, each one intent on filling her with his spunk,
careless of her own feelings. Lisa was suddenly more powerfully
aroused than ever. The cock in her cunt was long and fat, stimulating her
wonderfully, the sensation somehow heightened by the equally large weapon
that was sliding in and out of her backside. Meanwhile the smell and taste of
her third ravisher completed her total absorption with the process of
fucking, nothing else being allowed to possibly intrude, not even the thought
of the two gun runners who were watching the spectacle of her debasement. The man beneath her was grunting loudly
now, and she could feel the tension building within him as his orgasm
approached. The other two were also becoming more urgent in their movements,
their hips jabbing forward as the naked girl bucked and heaved between them,
her own cries of lust indecipherable owing to her mouthful of manhood. Then there was hot spunk pumping into
her vagina, the man beneath her giving a shout of triumph as he released his
seed into her. An instant later more sperm was filling her wanton young body,
this time spurting into her arse, the two penises throbbing in unison as they
discharged their load into the girl. Barely had she registered this than a
third helping was filling her mouth, jetting against the back of her throat
as she struggled to swallow it all down. Lisa’s own orgasm was as intense as it
was long, her muffled screams going on and on as the muscles of her vagina
and rectum tightened around the mens’ shafts, milking still more of their seminal
fluid from them and prolonging their own orgasms still further. By the time they withdrew, Lisa was
exhausted, lying amidst the spilt food on the table, her sex and rectum red
and swollen with the rough treatment she had received from the three. But she
was given no opportunity to recover. Suddenly the young men were turning her
over, spreading her face down across the table and securing her wrists and
ankles to the corners with strong rope, shouting and laughing as they did so.
Then they produced long, thin leather belts and began to beat her, the
leather cutting into every inch of her skin as they lashed her with
enthusiasm whilst the crowd cheered them on. The beating went on and on, stroke after
stroke falling across her pale skin until the flesh on her back and behind
felt as if it was on fire. Then, just when she thought she could take no
more, they turned her onto her back and began to lash her belly and breasts
with equal enthusiasm, bringing screams of anguish from the hapless girl. As they beat her, somebody picked up a
bottle from the table and pressed it between her open legs, pushing it deep
into her vagina, changing her screams of pain to shouts of passion as the
unknown hand began to frig her. They worked it back and forth in time to the
crack of the leather on her flesh, bringing her two more shattering climaxes
in quick succession. Lisa’s body was a mass of red stripes now, her breasts
red and swollen with the punishment she had received. At last the men grew tired and tossed
the belts aside. By this time their cocks were hard again and, barely pausing
to regain their breath, they started to fuck her again, taking turns to
penetrate her cunt and bring her yet more orgasms as they came inside her one
after the other. Only then was she allowed to rest, left
tied across the table her body covered with the red stripes of the belts,
spunk trickling from her sex and rectum, her skin smeared with discarded
food. A face loomed over her as she lay there,
her breasts rising and falling as she gasped to regain her breath. It was a
white face, that of the first of the gun-runners. “That was quite a show,” he said
quietly. Chapter
28 The
next morning Lisa woke to find herself back in her cage, her wrists pinned
behind her as usual and attached to the bars by a short chain. She pulled herself painfully to her feet
and glanced down at her body. It was still criss-crossed with the thin red
stripes of the belts. Even the creamy whiteness of her young breasts was decorated
with the marks of the beating. She staggered across to her water bucket
and began trying to clean herself, but it was almost impossible without the
use of her hands, and she was grateful when her guard arrived and freed them,
allowing her to wash herself under his amused gaze. Then she squatted in the
corner and devoured the bowl of gruel he had brought her before allowing him
to pin her wrists behind her once more. But he didn’t re-attach her chain.
Instead he produced a lead, which he fitted to her cunt-ring. Then he led her
out into the compound and towards the Chief’s house. He took her inside. There, seated by the
wall, were the two white men. Lisa’s face glowed scarlet as she recalled her
behaviour in front of them the night before, and she tried to hang back, but
one tug at her lead was enough to bring her staggering forward to stand
before them, her legs placed apart as her guards always insisted. “What’s your name?” The question startled her. Apart from
the short sentence the night before, it was the first English she had heard
spoken for months. “L-Lisa Sir.” The sound of her own voice
was strange to her, since it had only been used for screams of pain or
pleasure for so long. “Lisa Carling?” She looked up, dumbfounded. “How did you..?” “Just answer the questions, bitch.” “Yes Sir.” “Good.” The tall man, obviously the
leader of the two, rose to his feet and stood over her. “A lot of people have
been wondering where you were, Miss Carling,” he said. Lisa stared at him. She had honestly
thought herself forgotten. Fated to live out her days in this scruffy little
village as the warriors’ plaything. A body to be abused and fucked purely for
the mens’ pleasure. And now here was a man who knew of her by name! “You’ve taken a bit of finding,” he went
on. “But we’ve had our spies out. We knew you weren’t with Okama any more. He
moved on with his rebels some time ago and we’d have heard if you’d been
taken along.” Lisa listened with increasing surprise
to these words. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would try to find her
again, let alone that they would succeed. “Of course,” continued the man, “we
heard about your night of whoring in the village about a day from here. From
there it was a pretty good possibility that the Chief would have you. Pay for
you with rifles did he?” Lisa nodded dumbly. “Wily old devil. Of course he’ll be
making a huge profit from us. These semi-automatic rifles are worth a sight
more than the blunderbusses he’ll have given Okama. Still we’ll make a profit
from the deal too. There’s some people quite looking forward to seeing you
again, young lady.” He must have seen the look of surprise
in Lisa’s eyes, for his face broadened into a grin. “Oh, yes. Didn’t they tell you? You’ve
just been sold again. You’re coming with us, darling.” Lisa was astounded. The guns must have
been in exchange for her! So the men had known she was here all along.
Clearly they had had some kind of go-between set up the deal beforehand. And
now she was to move on once more. Away from this dreadful place where they
spoke not a word of her language, and where she was kept like a domestic
animal, to be used at the whim of the Chief. But where was she going? And
what terrors awaited her there? She had no illusions. It was not to freedom that
these men were taking her. The man walked around her, examining her
body. He took her cunt-ring in his fingers, inspecting the way her flesh was
pierced. Then he ran his fingers over the brand on her behind, making her
shiver at his touch. “Hmm, they’ve certainly marked you
nicely,” he murmured. “And your crotch shaved too. That all adds value to a
young slut like you. And after yesterday’s little show I’ve no doubt you’ll
perform when required. You looked like you were really enjoying having that
sweet little arse of yours fucked. Like being buggered by the natives do
you?” Lisa said nothing. “Right,” he said, taking her lead from
the guard. “Time we were leaving. I trust you haven’t got any luggage,
judging from the way you go about. Christ I’ve never seen a girl flash her
parts the way you were doing last night. Give you a thrill to show off your
tits and cunt does it?” He gave a tug on her lead, and the
red-faced girl followed him out of the hut. A small crowd had gathered by the Rover
and they hooted their derision as she was led past them. The man placed his
hand on Lisa’s backside and lifted her up into the rear of the vehicle,
padlocking her lead to a ring in the floor. Then he slammed and locked the
doors and he and his companion climbed into the front. Next minute there was
a whirr and a rattle and the diesel engine came to life. Then, with a grating
of gears, the vehicle lurched forward and they were on their way. The journey seemed endless. For a long
time they drove along tracks that were barely discernible, bushes and trees
scraping along the side of the Land Rover as they lurched through deep
potholes and across river beds. Then they came to a dirt road, along which
they were able to travel somewhat faster. Finally they turned onto a fully
metalled surface, and the wheels sang as they accelerated away towards their
ultimate destination. That night they camped by the side of
the road, erecting a tent and lighting a fire. They ate in silence, Lisa’s
wrists being freed for the purpose. Then they staked her to the ground and
she fully expected to be ravished. But the men seemed uninterested, returning
to the fire to drink whisky and talk in low voices. The next day they were on the road early,
and once again continued non-stop whilst Lisa dozed in the rear. She was
finally wakened by the sound of the vehicle slowing down and she raised her
head to peer out through the windows. They were in a town. Not one of the tiny
villages she had grown accustomed to over the past months but a large,
bustling urban area, the streets filled with cars, buses and bicycles. The
moment she realised they were surrounded by people she ducked down once more,
afraid that the passers-by would realise she was naked. The Rover wound its way through the busy
streets, where horns blasted out and bicycle bells seemed to ring
incessantly. Then suddenly the vehicle swung to the left and came to a halt
at the curb side. The two men climbed out and slammed the doors. Then. To
Lisa’s chagrin, they came round and opened the tailgate. “Come on, out.” Ordered the man. Lisa hung back. The street they were on
was as busy as any she had seen since entering the town. Surely they weren’t
going to make her climb out in her condition? But a sharp tug at her lead
confirmed that that was precisely what they intended and, her face glowing
pink, Lisa was forced to step out onto the road. She felt extraordinarily conspicuous,
her firm, jutting breasts still bearing the marks of the belts, her sex
perfectly visible, the gleaming ring drawing attention to her lack of pubic
hair. She walked down the road behind the men,
her hands still pinned behind her. All about people were stopping and staring
at the naked white girl being led through the streets by the ring in her
cunt, her breasts bouncing delightfully with every step. Lisa stole a glance
at the faces turned in her direction. They were a cosmopolitan crowd; black,
brown and white skins all in evidence. Across the road a group of African
youths were pointing and laughing at her, whilst from the window of an
expensive looking car a beautifully dressed young white woman stared at her
aghast. The walk can have been for no more than
five minutes, but for Lisa it seemed to go on for ever. On all sides whistles
and shouts rang out, many of them in English, and Lisa hung her head as she
listened to the lewd suggestions they were making. At last they stopped outside a door and
the man knocked. A few seconds later it was answered by a servant, who raised
his eyebrows at the sight of Lisa. “Is the B’wana in?” “Yes Sir. Please come in.” The man stood to one side as the strange
trio entered the house and Lisa heard the door close behind her with a sigh
of relief. The man spoke a few words to the servant
and he nodded, showing them to a large reception room then heading off again.
Two minutes later he was back, and after a few words had been exchanged he
took hold of Lisa’s lead. She followed him up a flight of stairs
and down a short corridor to a door at the end, upon which he knocked. “Come.” The servant placed the end of her lead
in Lisa’s hand, then, opening the door, he pushed her inside, shutting it
behind her. The room was long, with large windows
that admitted great shafts of sunlight. At the end were two men, standing at
a table with their backs to her. As the door closed they turned and Lisa’s
jaw dropped. It was Conrad Lang. Conrad Lang! The man who had started all
this! The man who had single-handedly changed her from demure young woman to
slut, slave and whore. She could scarcely believe her eyes. In fact, so
distracted was she by his presence that it was a moment before her eyes
turned to the second man, and once again she gasped in recognition. It was
the man she knew only as Bulcher, the one to whom she had been passing the
secrets on the night she had lost her freedom. Conrad Lang eyed her, a look of contempt
on his face. Then he beckoned her closer. “So, we’ve found you at last, Miss
Carling,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long time.” Lisa did not reply, but she knew the
surprise showed in her face, and this was confirmed by Lang’s next words. “Not expecting to see me, were you? Well
thanks to you I’m now out of a job. After your own little cock-up that
bastard Dawson was on my case day and night. It was only a matter of time
‘till he found out what I was doing, then I was out on my ear. Since then Mr
Bulcher here and I have been working together more closely.” Bulcher inclined his head. “That was
when we decided to dig up a bit of dirt on Dawson ourselves,” he said. “We
knew he’d got rid of you somehow, and we were curious to find out how. So we
investigated and discovered what had become of you. Or what should have
become of you but for Mr Okama’s intervention. At the same time we discovered
what a lucrative business this is. So we bought ourselves in.” “So now we’re in the human resources
business,” said Lang. “With a little bit of armament supplies on the side.
There’s no shortage of customers around here.” “But there was one bit of merchandise we
both wanted to get our hands on,” said Bulcher. “A little unfinished business
if you like. It’s cost us a lot of money to get you here, Miss Carling, so I
do hope you’re going to be worth it.” Lang moved closer to her, and his hand
dropped to finger the brass ring that hung so prominently from her sex. “What a crude little ornament,” he said.
“But I bet it turns you on when you walk about. Let’s see.” He slid a finger into Lisa’s vagina,
bringing a faint whimper from the youngster as he delved deep into her
honeypot. “As I thought,” he said triumphantly,
holding up his finger. “Wet as hell. I’ve never known a girl so constantly
hot as this one. Here, lick my fingers clean.” Lisa obeyed, keeping her eyes cast down as
she did so. Then he ran a finger over her brand. “Another little body decoration,” he
exclaimed. “These will make you a very valuable acquisition, young lady. It’s
not often we get such authentic native decorations. Give me that lead.” Lisa had been holding her own lead
behind her back until now. She turned and offered it as best she could to
Lang, who took it and tugged experimentally, grinning as he saw her hips
thrust forward. “Very nice,” he said. “Very nice indeed.
Come over to the window.” He led her across to the window, which
looked out onto a busy square. Everywhere there were people bustling back and
forth or hawking their wares from stalls set about the street. In the centre
was a large block, about six feet high, with steps leading up to it. “Do you see that block?” he said. “Once
a week the auction is held there. Young Negro men, the occasional Arab
expelled by his or her family for some misdemeanour, and just occasionally a
little prize like yourself. You’ll cause quite a stir up there. We’ll sell
you naked of course. It would be a shame if the buyers didn’t get a good look
at those interesting adornments to your beauty. I wonder who’ll buy you? An
Arab sheikh wanting a plaything for himself and his guests, maybe. Perhaps a
whorehouse owner looking for something new and unusual. Or maybe just some
sadist who will gain his pleasure from inflicting pain on that exquisite
little body of yours.” “But that won’t be for a while yet,” put
in Bulcher. “I intend to have a little fun with you first. Down in the
basement I’ve got some wonderful toys I want to share with you. I know you
like chains and whips, and I’ve got some even more ingenious devices to use
on you. Even now the servant is down there preparing the whipping post.” Lisa stared dumbly at the pair of them,
then out into the square at the auction block. Their words had sent a chill
through her and she contemplated her time ahead with foreboding. Bulcher had
the cruelest eyes of any man she had ever encountered, and she knew she could
expect no mercy from him. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Bulcher’s words
caused a surge of lust to sweep through her and she was unable to suppress a
slight moan as her nipples hardened and a gush of wetness ran through her
sex. She closed her eyes, hoping that the two had not noticed her arousal,
but it was a forlorn hope. Lang tugged at her lead, pulling her close to him,
then felt her bullet-hard teats. You really are a sensuous little thing,”
he said. “Perhaps we’ll give you a little relief. Akran!” The last word was shouted, and moments
later the door opened and the servant entered. Lisa gasped as she saw him. He
had discarded the long white garment he had been wearing when he answered the
door and was now clad in only a black leather jockstrap and black boots. In
his hand he carried a thin whip. “The Memsa’ab is on heat,” announced
Lang coolly. Fuck her please.” The man grinned, reaching down and
undoing the cord that held his jockstrap up. As it fell away his massive
black cock sprang to attention. He took the lead from Lang’s outstretched
hand and pushed Lisa backwards until she felt the hard wood of the desk
against her behind. She fell back over it as the man forced her legs apart.
Then, with a single thrust, he was inside her. He managed no more than three strokes
before a powerful orgasm shook Lisa’s small frame, and the cries echoed about
the room as he continued to ram his cock into her sopping cunt whilst she
thrashed about beneath him, her mind filled with thoughts of the torture
chamber downstairs. Beside her a grim-faced Bulcher crouched
down and picked up the whip. |
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