by S. J. Lewis
“Yes, mistress,” Sigrid sobbed out. She felt utterly broken and empty, devoid of hope.
“Wait here,” the woman said. She walked off into the darkness. She returned a moment later carrying a small folding chair. She placed it on the floor in front of Sigrid.
“I feel so good about your change of heart, Sigrid,” she said. Sigrid looked up at her through teary eyes. The woman was unbuttoning her dress, starting at the high collar.
“In fact,” the woman went on, still unbuttoning, “I feel like celebrating, just you and I.” In a very short while, the dress was unbuttoned from neck to hip. She flung it open. Under it, she was as naked as Sigrid. Her breasts were small, with prominent brown nipples. Her hips were fuller than her slender build would suggest. Her glossy black pubic hair had been trimmed to a strip no more than an inch and a half wide. She sat down on the folding chair, her legs apart.
“Come, Sigrid,” she cooed. “Help me celebrate.”
There was no point in playing dumb. Sigrid knew exactly what this woman was expecting. She crawled forward, crying silently now. When she was close enough, the woman put her heels on Sigrid’s back. Up close, Sigrid could smell that her mistress was already aroused. The woman reached down with both hands and spread her pussy lips with her fingers. Sigrid leaned closer and licked tentatively at the exposed pinkness. Mistress made a purring noise. Sigrid closed her eyes and continued licking. She was no stranger to this. It had always been a good way to bring Amanda around whenever she became too nervous about one of their scams. But Mistress smelled different, and she tasted different. Sigrid began licking more vigorously, and was rewarded with a tiny moan from Mistress. She sought out the spot that always gave Amanda the most intense pleasure and closed her lips around it, sucking and licking. Mistress shivered violently and clamped her thighs around Sigrid’s head, squealing and moaning with delight. Her heels dug into Sigrid’s back. Sigrid tasted saltiness mixed with sweetness. Some of the saltiness was from her tears.
***
“That was wonderful!” Mistress smiled as she buttoned up her dress. “Do you prefer women, Sigrid?”
“No, Mistress,” Sigrid answered, her head hanging low. Her lips and chin felt sticky, and her nostrils were still full of Mistress’ scent.
“Well, it wouldn’t make much difference if you did,” Mistress went on. “We get very few women buyers, and after one look at you men would bid almost anything to get their hands on you. You did very, very well, Sigrid. I’ll be sure you’re rewarded for your efforts.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Chapter Eight
Sigrid sank into the deep tub. The water was almost, but not quite, hot enough to be uncomfortable. It felt wonderful. She let herself slide completely under for a moment and came up again with a sigh. There was soap and shampoo at hand, brushes and washcloths and a loofa available. Thick, fluffy towels were on a rack nearby. If it weren’t for the heavy length of chain padlocked around her neck, she could almost pretend she was in a very good hotel.
She reached down with one hand to gingerly explore her newly bared loins. They had shaved her very closely down there. She had kept very still while the old woman had done the job with an old-fashioned straight razor, painfully aware of Paul and Mistress watching the procedure with avid interest. She felt her cheeks growing hot as she recalled that. At least Mistress had kept her promise of a reward. It felt very good to lie in the tub and let the warmth of the water soothe her battered body. The moment would not last. She tried not to think about what would follow it. She tried not to think about what might be happening to Amanda. She tried not to think of anything.
She was in another of those circular underground rooms. There were two other tubs set along the wall; both almost flush with the paved stone floor, as was the one she occupied. There was a large tiled area marked off from the rest of the room by a knee-high tiled wall. There were four showerheads poking out of the wall there. This room was apparently used for communal bathing. Sigrid could imagine it full of naked women trying to wash themselves clean after being used to satisfy the lusts of their captors. At the moment, she had it all to herself. There were no other women present, nor any men, ski-masked or otherwise, keeping a watch on her. There were probably hidden cameras, though. Even now, someone was probably watching her on a television monitor.
She banished the thought and turned to the bar of soap. It was unused and unmarked, plain white. It smelled faintly of flowers. She took it into the tub with her and began working up a lather. She washed herself with care, wincing whenever she struck a spot that was especially sore to the touch. There were an awful lot of those spots. She was very thorough in washing her cunt, even though it was the sorest part of her body. Mistress had promised that she would be spared any further beating or rape for the time being, but the thought of what she would have to do until she had healed and her bruises had faded made her shudder. It also made her feel sick to her stomach, and for a moment she had the dry heaves again as she leaned over the rim of the tub. When they stopped, she felt weak, shaky and lightheaded. They had not fed her much, and while the tasteless gruel she’d shared with Lara and Glory had been filling, that feeling did not last. She took a moment to recover, and then set about cleaning herself thoroughly, even when it hurt.
***
As she dried herself off with the towels, it occurred to Sigrid that she had never bathed so meticulously before, and yet she didn’t feel clean. It would take her a long, long time to feel clean again, assuming that she could somehow escape from this place. She hoped that she would, but she realized that she didn’t know enough about this strange and terrible place to even begin to make plans. If she played the part of a cowed and submissive woman she might find an opening. It was a faint but just plausible hope.
The only entrance to this chamber was another pair of heavy wooden double doors. They flew open just as Sigrid finished drying herself off.
“Sigrid!” Mistress called out cheerfully as she entered. She was dressed all in khaki now: Khaki shirt, khaki shorts and desert boots. If she’d been wearing a pith helmet as well she would have looked like she was going on safari. Two large, muscular and hooded men entered with her. Sigrid barely noticed them. Her attention was drawn to the big dog that Mistress had on a leash. It was one of the two she had encountered earlier. Another leash dangled from Mistress’ left hand. Sigrid knew what it was for. She shuddered.
“Come here, Sigrid,” Mistress ordered. Sigrid got on her hands and knees and slowly crawled over, keeping her head down. She stopped just short of Mistress’ booted feet.
“My, you do seem to be learning quickly,” Mistress observed. Sigrid flinched as the two men began buckling leather cuffs around her wrists. That done, they put matching cuffs on her ankles.
“One would almost think that you’re a natural,” Mistress went on. “But we know better, don’t we? You hate this, don’t you, Sigrid?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Sigrid answered. Denying it seemed foolish and risky. She already knew that Mistress liked to hurt.
“But you’re putting on an act, all the same. Here, bitch, put this on.” A thick and wide black leather collar landed on the floor right in front of Sigrid. She hesitated, and heard the dog growl. It was a low, rumbling noise, deep and threatening. Sigrid knelt and picked up the collar. It had four shiny metal D-rings equally spaced around it. She put the collar around her neck, moving her hair out of the way. She buckled it into place and got back on her hands and knees.
“Very good, Sigrid,” Mistress sounded pleased. She was probably putting on her own act, Sigrid thought. Mistress looked small and fragile, but something about the woman scared Sigrid badly. She waited patiently as Mistress clipped the leash to her collar. Then the woman fondled Sigrid’s breasts, slowly, gently and lovingly, as if she couldn’t get enough of them. Sigrid tried not to shudder.
“Come, now.” Mistress stood up and pulled on Sigrid’s leash. Sigrid crawled along behind her. The hard stone floor
hurt her knees if she wasn’t careful. The dog fell in alongside of her, close enough for her to feel the warmth of its body.
They went down the hallway slowly. Mistress seemed content with the pace Sigrid was making, though the dog seemed to be mildly annoyed. It whined once. Mistress did not even turn around. All she did was say: “Hush”, and the dog fell silent.
They came to a four-way intersection in the hallway. Mistress turned left, and Sigrid was compelled to follow. She could hear the sounds of women crying, wailing and protesting hopelessly coming from somewhere up ahead. She could also feel the eyes of Mistress’ two bodyguards crawling all over her ass as they trailed behind. She bit her lower lip. There wasn’t anything she could do about it. She felt shamed, degraded, debased, and treated like an animal, useful only for fucking. She bit her lip harder, almost hard enough to draw blood. She could see the cell doors on either side of the hallway. They would take her into one of them, she knew, and she would be made to suck cock. She would have balked right then and there, but for the dog still close to her side. It was a furry reminder of the implied threat that Mistress had made, and Sigrid had no doubt that Mistress would carry out that threat… or worse. So, she crawled along meekly. Inside, she was becoming consumed by rage and shame. Her stomach was a tight knot, and she could taste bile at the back of her throat.
“Stop,” Mistress ordered. Both Sigrid and the dog stopped immediately. They were opposite one of the cell doors. Sigrid thought at first that this was the cage where she would be ‘trained’.
“Look, Sigrid,” Mistress jerked roughly on the leash. Fearful of what she would see, Sigrid raised her head and looked.
It was a typical cell for this place: Unpainted cinderblock walls, bare cement floor, unshielded lights dangling from overhead. There was the usual thin pad. Ayesha was kneeling on it. The collar she wore was a twin of Sigrid’s. Her arms were bound tightly behind her at the wrists and elbows. White rope had been used to bind her. It contrasted starkly with her dark skin. A hooded man stood in front of Ayesha. She was slowly and lovingly sucking his cock, turning her head from one side to the other between strokes. The man had his hand on her head. As she sucked, he would grunt with pleasure. All Sigrid could see of the man’s skin were his bare arms. They were thickly covered with coarse, curly hair. Sigrid shuddered as she thought she recognized Bogo.
“This is just a little refresher course for you, Sigrid,” Mistress said cheerfully. She patted Sigrid’s head. “Watch and learn.” She jerked on Sigrid’s leash for emphasis.
“Yes, Mistress,” Sigrid said. In her cage, Ayesha opened her eyes and glared at her. There was cold hatred behind those dark eyes. Ayesha’s rhythm broke, and Bogo slapped her hard. He got what grip he could on Ayesha’s short, short hair and used it to force her down onto his cock. Ayesha choked and coughed, but she did not fight. When Bogo released his grip, she resumed sucking his cock, faster and deeper now. Bogo grunted deeply and patted her head. Ayesha whimpered. As she sucked, she made wet little noises. Bogo edged closer to her, forcing her to lean back or gag on his thick member. Sigrid wanted to close her eyes or look away, but that would not block out those sounds, and in any case, Mistress would notice and disapprove. The last thing Sigrid wanted to incur was the disapproval of Mistress. She told herself that she did not like Ayesha anyway, and continued watching.
Bogo grew more excited, and his grunts came faster. When he put his hand on the back of Ayesha’s head, she whined plaintively through her nose, as if begging for a mercy she knew she would never get. Bogo grunted loudly, holding Ayesha in place as he thrust his cock a little deeper into her mouth. Ayesha squalled, and her face darkened.
Grunt. Thrust. Squeal. Grunt. Thrust. Squeal. Grunt. Thrust. Squeal. Sigrid watched as Bogo emptied himself into Ayesha’s mouth. He let go of the woman at last, pulled his cock out of her mouth, and took it in his hand to slap her with it. Ayesha flinched, her eyes shut tight. She bowed her head. Sigrid saw a trickle of Bogo’s cum escape from the corner of Ayesha’s mouth. Then Ayesha raised her head, tilting it back, her face contorted as if she tasted something incredibly bitter. She swallowed audibly before she opened her mouth to gasp for breath. She opened her eyes and looked up at Bogo. She gasped once more.
“Thank you, master,” Ayesha huffed. “May I clean your cock now?”
Bogo only grunted. Ayesha leaned forward and began to lick his cock. Sigrid could not suppress a shudder.
“Come, Sigrid,” Mistress pulled on the leash. Sigrid’s head dropped as she crawled along obediently. She felt trapped, desperate. When they reached the next cell door, Mistress opened it.
“Inside, bitch,” Mistress ordered. Sigrid sobbed. She could see the pad she would kneel on. She did not see Paul. He was not in the cell. She crawled into the cell and onto the pad.
“Kneel,” Mistress commanded, tugging upwards on the leash. Sigrid obeyed. All she could do now was not let anyone see her cry. The two bodyguards entered the cell. One pulled Sigrid’s arms behind her. She heard the click of a padlock and realized that her wrist cuffs were now locked together. A moment later, her fettered hands were seized and pulled up to just below her shoulder blades. Something tugged at her collar, and she heard another click. When they let go of her, Sigrid realized that her wrists were locked in that uncomfortable position. Struggling to pull them back down only pulled her collar against her throat, threatening to choke her.
One of the bodyguards grabbed her by the back of her neck, forcing her head down until her nose was almost touching the worn and faded pad on which she was kneeling.
“You must keep very still now, Sigrid,” Mistress told her. “You need a lot of training, I’m afraid.”
It was a little difficult to breathe, bent over like this. Then Sigrid felt rough hands pulling her ass cheeks wide. She yelped, protesting, and began to struggle. It earned her a hard, open-handed swat on her ass. She yelped again, and quit struggling. She felt thick fingers probing, spreading her wider, and then something cool and slippery was applied directly to her anus. She shrieked at the contact, her muscles clenching involuntarily. She shuddered and whimpered as the cool-and-slippery something was spread around generously.
“Be very still,” Mistress ordered. Sigrid tried to obey, but she could not help trembling. When she felt something hard being thrust into her anus, she wailed despairingly. It did not feel like a finger, or a cock, but whatever it was stretched her wider and wider as it was thrust home. Just as she thought it would tear her, it suddenly narrowed, slipping easily in the rest of the way. Now she was trembling violently. She could feel the invader inside of her, and it was a sensation she’d never experienced before. She felt oddly stuffed. Her muscles kept clenching against the thing, trying to expel it, but it would not move.
“Your first training plug,” Mistress said, standing over her. “You’ve never been penetrated that way before, have you, Sigrid?”
“No, Mistress,” Sigrid admitted with a shudder. She thought she had felt debased before. Now she realized that her debasement was going to plumb depths she had never even thought of. Rape was not the end of it. Using her mouth would not be the end of it. It was as Ayesha had said: They would fuck her up her ass as well. The only question was when. She felt something inside of her break.
“Let her up, now,” Mistress ordered. “Give her a moment to compose herself. Paul will be here soon.”
The hand on the back of her neck was removed. Sigrid slowly knelt upright, wincing at the unfamiliar feeling of the plug. She heard the cell door being unbolted. She was sure of who had done it, but she just had to look.
“Hello, Sigrid,” Paul Marengo smiled down at her. “You look especially lovely like that.” He was wearing a suit, of all things.
Sigrid felt her face grow hot. She looked down and away. “Thank you, Master,” she said weakly. Paul stepped directly in front of her, placing his feet well apart. Sigrid heard the sound of a zipper.
“Suck, Sigrid,” Mistress ordered.
&nbs
p; Sigrid turned her head back to Paul. He was smiling down at her, obviously enjoying himself. His big, thick, black cock was out, already half-erect in anticipation. Sigrid hesitated for as long as she dared. Had Paul been suitably generous with gifts, she might have done this for him as a small reward before more conventional lovemaking. Now, she was forced to do it, and all he would give her for her efforts was a mouthful of cum. She leaned forward, her mouth open, and took the head of his cock between her lips. She leaned forward a little further, taking more of him into her mouth. She heard him exhale loudly, a long, deep ‘ahhhh’ as she did so. She closed her eyes and felt him take her head between his hands. She took him in a little deeper, trying to work up the saliva she would need. She could feel his cock throbbing, swelling, growing harder in her mouth, and she whimpered. She leaned forward as far as she dared, and discovered that Paul did not shave all of his body. The head of his cock bumped against the back of her throat. She coughed and gasped around the heavy shaft, pulling back until the head was just behind her lips. She leaned forward slowly. Her saliva was flowing freely now.
It helped to keep her eyes closed and treat cock sucking as a purely mechanical act. With her eyes closed, Sigrid could ignore the small crowd clustered around her in the cell: Mistress, the two bodyguards, and the dog. She knew they were watching, but if she couldn’t see them she could pretend that they weren’t there. Then she felt someone pressing up against her from behind. Slim-fingered hands, she recognized them as Mistress’, reached up to cup and squeeze her breasts. Sigrid’s eyes flew open. She did not dare to stop sucking, even when Mistress pinched her nipples lightly and then not so lightly. Sigrid grunted in pain around the slab of meat in her mouth. She heard Paul groan. It sounded as if he did it through clenched teeth. He groaned again, more loudly. Sigrid shuddered. Mistress was hugging her closely now. Evan as she was fondling Sigrid’s breasts, Sigrid’s pinioned hands were pressed against hers through the material of Mistress’ dress. It was too much. There were too many distractions now: Mistress, the watching eyes of the guards, the heavy panting of the dog, the plug… it was impossible to pretend now, impossible to let her mouth and lips and tongue do their work without paying more than the minimum amount of attention. And then Paul grabbed her head in both hands, thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth, groaning loudly as he came.
