by Paul Blades
From time to time, pure, unadulterated rage flowed through her. She hated Big Al and Ray for what they had done to her, hated the Mexican for callously stuffing her in this tiny space like she was a piece of meat, cargo. They had no right to do this to her! She had seen some pretty mean things in her day, but she had never seen anyone sold into slavery. It was a horrible nightmare she just couldn’t wake from.
Three times before they hit the border, Jesse pulled the camper over to the side of the road and opened her closet. She felt a wave of cool air come in. He pulled the gag out of her mouth and let her drink from a bottle. The water was cool and wonderful. He then pulled out one of her earplugs and told her, “I’m going to put something under your twat so you can pee. You better do it, because if I find that you’ve peed on my floor, you’re going to be a very, very sorry crica when we get where we’re going.”
It was difficult to pee under these circumstances. But she believed his threat. She strained and strained until finally a stream of water passed out of her.
She hadn’t tried to talk when he pulled out the gag. When she was done peeing and sensed he was going to reinstall her gag, she went, “Ple…” and the gag was shoved right back in. The panel went on, shoved up against her breasts and it started to get hot again right away.
She slept some. Thank god. The vibrations of the road under the wheels of the camper was about the only sensation outside herself that she could experience. It lulled her into drowsiness and then a light sleep. Then, all of a sudden, she would get the sensation of falling and she would be wide awake again.
Oh, and she did a lot of crying too. And from time to time, she screamed at the top of her lungs out of anger, frustration and disbelief that this could really be happening to her. Even she could hardly hear it. Then she would break down into uncontrollable sobs.
She had an idea when they crossed the border. The camper had made some stops here and there. The driver was probably pissing or getting something to eat, she thought. But the stop and go at the border told her that that was something different. It was her last realistic hope of rescue. She yelled and screamed and tried to bang her head against the padded wall of her little cell to get someone to hear her. She became virtually apoplectic, straining at her bonds like she was on fire. When she felt the camper start into motion again without any of the stops, she knew that they were no longer in the United States and she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was dark when they pulled into Chihuahua. Deirdre, of course, didn’t know that that was where they were, nor what time it was. She only knew that the camper had come to a halt and that she was left waiting there for what seemed like a long, long time.
Finally, the panel was opened. Her ears were still plugged and her eyes blinded, so she could no tell how many men were there, if there were more than one, or if one of them was her captor, Like Jessie had done before, hands took hold of her nipples and shook her breasts. She imagined the man laughing, amused by his power over her.
She was unstrapped from the wall and dragged out. She sensed that there were at least two men in the camper with her. She couldn’t stand by herself so they took hold of her arms and guided her out and down the steps to the ground. They took her a few feet from the van and she was pressed to her knees. Her gag was pulled out and she was, mercifully, given something to drink.
When the bottle was removed, she felt something fleshy and hard presented to her mouth. She was too afraid not to receive it. The cock pumped over her lips and across her tongue. When it pressed against the back of her mouth, she gagged and choked. It didn’t take long until her mouth was flooded with hot jism. She thought of Big Al’s taunt that Jessie might give her a breakfast consisting of his cum. It was the only thing she had had to eat all day.
The first cock was followed by a second and then a third. Afraid of the alternative, she dutifully serviced them all.
When the men were done amusing themselves with her, she felt hands pressing her thighs open and then the little tickle that Jessie had been using to tell her when it was time to pee. A little pan, like before, was shoved under her pussy. She peed obediently. “They’ve trained me already,” she thought to herself miserably.
She was pulled to her feet, a man on each side took hold of her bound arms, and she was dragged some distance. They went down some stairs and then a long hallway. There was a pause like someone was unlocking a door. Then she was pulled ahead again, stopped and made to crouch. A hand bent her neck down and she was given a shove. She tumbled forward onto a mat of some kind. The hands left her. And then she was alone.
She was, at first, too afraid to move. Then a minute went by, maybe more. She tried to raise herself up but felt something hit her head. She tried to turn and her shoulders rubbed against something made of steel. She tried the other way and felt the same sensation. Then she realized that the men had put her in some kind of cage. She slumped down, spreading her body out as far as her confinement permitted and cried. In a little while, she was fast asleep.
She woke up some time later. Everything was dark and silent as before, but she felt just a little more ready to handle the challenges she knew would soon be facing her. Sooner or later, she reasoned, there would be a chance to escape. They had to let her out of her hood and her cage sometime. Didn’t they?
Her feet still ached but not as bad as they had while in the camper closet. She still had her shoes on and she took the opportunity to kick them off. She was glad that she hadn’t been wearing one of her strap ons. To have her toes free of their confinement was wonderful. She wanted desperately to massage them.
Her belly growled. She was so hungry she could have eaten one of her high heels. And thirsty too. She hoped that someone would come and feed her soon and that they would let her out of her hood. Her jaw was sore from being distended so long. Every time her gag came into her consciousness, and that was often, she felt like she was going to throw up. She desperately wanted to move her hands. And she desperately wanted to stretch out her body. If she sat up, her head hit the bars above her. She had to keep her knees bent because the cage was so small. She felt the panic building up in her again, fear about what was going to happen to her. She took a deep breath, as deep as she could through her nose, and then let it out. “You’ve got to be calm, Deirdre,” she told herself. “You’re a valuable commodity to them. As long as you do what you’re told, you’ll be all right.”
She tried to lie still and wait for whatever would happen next.
Out of the blue, she felt a sharp object poke her in the ribs. It hurt. She let out a moan and tried to scramble away from it. It poked her again, harder this time. Was someone trying to torture her? Drive her mad?
The she felt a vibration in her cage. Someone had opened the door. A hand reached in and took hold of her arm, drawing her towards it. She shuffled in the direction indicated. A hand forced her head down as if to get clearance through the cage’s door and then she was out.
Two sets of hands took hold of her arms and lifted her to her feet. They were small hands, women’s hands. She smelt a faint odor of cheap perfume. The hands guided her through a door, down the hallway she had come and out into the open air. It was daytime, she could feel the sun on her skin. “I’ve been a slave for 24 hours,” she thought miserably.
She was quickly shuffled a distance and then brought to a stop. There was a rough surface, concrete, beneath her feet. She was forced into a crouch and she felt that familiar tickling of her sex. She peed obediently. She was lifted up again, taken another short distance and then they stopped.
Hands fiddled with her hood. She felt it being unlocked. Suddenly, marvelously, it was off. They took out her ear plugs.
She was in the courtyard of a large, sandstone building. The sun was very bright. There were cars parked inside it and men walking across it. A balcony ran around the upper floor of the building and there were a series of doors along it. At some of the doors she could see women
standing and talking to each other. She looked at the two women who had escorted her from her cage. They were dressed in loose, flowing skirts of bright, gaudy colors. Their blouses were both white and had low, round necklines that showed off most of their breasts. The taller one of the two had long, black hair gathered in a ponytail behind her head. The other one’s hair was brown and fixed up behind her head in a bun. They were both somewhat older than her, maybe in their early thirties. To Deirdre, they looked tough and hard. There was something about how they handled themselves, the way they stood, the coldness of their eyes.
They were standing on the side of the courtyard. There was a pipe going up from the ground about seven feet high with a shower head on it. The brown haired woman unlocked the ring that held her handcuffs pinned to her waist while the other one unbuckled the belt from behind. Deirdre swung her hands free. Without a word to her, one of the women turned the shower on. Cold water came pouring down on her head. She jumped out of the way.
A sharp, burning pain arose on her back. “Ohhhhhhhhh!” she cried out. There was a shout of some imperative sounding words in Spanish. She saw a leather strap in the taller woman’s hand. It was clear that she was supposed to get back under the water. The woman raised the whip again but before she could strike, Deirdre stepped back to her former position.
After a few seconds, her body began to get used to the cold water. It actually started to feel good. She tipped her head back and let it wash over her face, run through her greasy, tangled hair. She drank in some, trying to assuage her terrible thirst. The tall woman had been carrying a straw bag. From inside it she took out a plastic bottle and a large, rough sponge. She placed the sponge under the water and got it wet and then squeezed what Deirdre assumed to be soap from the bottle onto it. She handed it to Deirdre.
She was supposed to bathe. The water now felt wonderful everywhere it touched her. She looked up and saw that some men were standing about twenty feet away and watching, amused smiles on their faces. She ignored them and began to soap herself up.
The rough sponge was like a caress on her skin. To have the use of her hands, even though they were still cuffed to each other, was a wonderful thing. And to be clean, that too was wonderful. She tried not to think why they were allowing her to shower. What did it matter? Whatever they were going to do to her, they were going to do anyway.
The women were watching her while engaged in an animated conversation with each other. Deirdre couldn’t understand a word they were saying. She was becoming self conscious of their gaze. She turned her back to them so that she could run the sponge over her naked coosh in a modicum of privacy. She felt another sharp sting on her flesh, this time her hip. She gave out a howl and turned back. The taller woman indicated with her finger that she should stay the way she was so that they could watch her.
When Deirdre had finished washing herself, her breasts, her pussy, the brunette woman, seeing that she could not reach it, merrily washed the crack of her ass. She then took the sponge from her and held out a tube of shampoo. Deirdre placed her bound hands out and the woman placed a large dollop of shampoo on them. Obediently, Deirdre soaped up her hair, kneading her scalp with her fingers. When she had washed out the soap, the woman gave her some cream rinse and Deirdre repeated the procedure.
The shower was turned off and the women made her kneel. She was dripping wet but neither of the women offered her a towel. One of them ran a brush through her hair while the other one grasped her face with her hand to hold her still. The conversation continued uninterrupted. It seemed to Deirdre that washing and grooming newly enslaved young women was a routine for them. Not only that, they were totally oblivious to her humanity. She was not a real person to them. More like some kind of exotic animal.
When her hair was brushed, she was held in position by the tall woman while the brunette went back to the straw bag. She was behind Deirdre and she was unable to see what she was doing because the tall woman kept a grip on her face. She heard the brunette return and then felt something being affixed around her neck. It was a leather collar. The brunette woman pulled it tight and Deirdre heard a lock closing off on it.
They made her stand and they reattached the belt around her middle. To Deirdre’s dismay, they refastened her hand cuffs to the ring. A 6 foot long leash was produced and clipped to a ring in the front of her collar. The tall woman gave it a tug and they were back on the move.
The women walked quickly and Deirdre had to scurry on her bare feet to keep up. They were still talking as if she weren’t there. The hood had been placed in the straw bag and Deirdre prayed that it was the last she had seen of it.
They entered a room on the lower level of the building. It was dark inside and it took Deirdre a moment to adjust her eyes. There were several long, scarred tables with benches on either side of them. A lamp hung down from the middle of the ceiling with a fan turning leisurely around. Towards the back were several old, grey haired women standing in front of a stove. Along the tables were six or seven younger women, all dressed like Deirdre’s companions as if it were some type of uniform. They ranged from around he same age as the women who had brought her in and younger. One girl looked like she wasn’t much over eighteen.
When they saw Deirdre, a couple of the women rose to their feet. They spoke to Deirdre’s minders excitedly and the women presented Deirdre for their inspection. Rapid-fire Spanish flew around the room. One of the women took hold of Deirdre’s breast and squeezed it. Deirdre gave out a squeal to all the women’s amusement. They made her turn around so that they could see her ass. One of the women pinched her harshly and Deirdre tried to pull away. The tall woman yanked the leash on her collar and slapped Deirdre across the face.
“Owwwww!” Deirdre screeched. The tall one grabbed her hair and brought their faces close together.
“Silencia!” she yelled.
Deirdre’s eyes welled up with tears. She had been hoping for some sympathy from the women but that was obviously not happening. If these women were whores, and Deirdre suspected that they were, she was clearly even lower on the totem pole than them.
She docilely allowed the women to complete their inspection. The tall woman made her bend over and spread her legs so the women could see her pussy. A soft hand intruded there. A finger slid along her labial divide, once, twice. Then it landed on the hood that guarded her clit and began to massage it. She heard a woman call something out and a number of voices yelled their agreement amongst feminine laughter.
Her puss began to be stroked in earnest. Deirdre moaned with unhappiness. They were going to make her come, she knew it. Her face was pressed against the table top. The tall woman was sitting on the bench next to her, holding her down by her leash. Deirdre tried to bring her legs together. The hand withdrew from her pussy and gave her three mighty slaps on her ass in quick succession. Deirdre moaned from the pain and quickly brought her legs apart again. Hands went around her thighs to ensure she would remain open.
The hand worked her pussy diligently. It was soft and adept. When her moisture began to flow, two fingers slipped inside her. A woman’s voice cried out something celebratory and all the other women laughed and made catcalls.
Deirdre had her eyes jammed shut in shame. She cursed herself as she felt her lusts rising. The woman behind her moved her hand away for a moment and got down on her knees between her legs. Hands spread her legs wider as the other women laughed and yelled. A tongue stroked down the length of her slit. It wriggled deeply into her cunt and then licked and tickled her stiffened clit. Other hands now took hold of her breasts and began to tease them, pulling and pinching on her nipples. A mouth subsumed one of them.
When Deirdre let out a long, intense moan of lust, the women all clapped and yelled encouragement. A finger probed at her rear entrance and then slid inside, then two. They started to abrade her sensitive tissue there.
As her breath grew short, as her hips began to squirm and rotate, as her thighs began to quiver, the women began to chant and clap t
heir hands in rhythm. What they were saying, Deirdre did not know. Her brain ignored it, concentrated only now on the tongue that tormented her, the fingers and mouths that were driving her lust. The woman whose tongue was lapping at her quim thrust three fingers in and out of her dilated, soggy canal while her lips suckled on her rigid pleasure button. Deirdre felt herself going over the top. She gave out a great groan as her pussy started to convulse. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she called out. “Ohhhhhhhhh!” The women all gave a loud cheer.
It seemed like her orgasm would go on forever. The women laughed and joked with each other as her body shook. Finally, the mouth left her puss, the fingers withdrew from her rear and her breasts were released. One of the women gave her a fierce slap on her behind that made Deirdre call out. Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over.
The women resumed their places at the table, a couple of them giving her body a final pinch or poke. The tall woman pulled on her leash, lifting her from the table. The woman who had been supping at her cunt, a black haired, young, voluptuous woman, took Deirdre’s head in her hands and gave her a big kiss, slipping her tongue in her mouth. Deirdre could smell her own cum on the woman’s face.
The excitement over, her escorts got down to business. The brunette went to the cooking area and came back with a tray on which sat three steaming bowls. She placed two on the table and one on the dirty, wooden floor. The tall woman pushed Deirdre to her knees and signaled her to eat. She and the brunette picked up worn metal spoons, dug into their meals and resumed their conversation.
Deirdre looked down at the bowl. It was some kind of stew. It had large chunks of meat in a dark brown sauce. There were potatoes and peas mixed in with it. She was still trying to recover from her abasement by the women. She found herself crying again. She tried to shake it off. Staring down at the bowl, her stomach growled. She was hungrier than she could ever remember being. Some of the women were watching her, obviously anticipating the enjoyment of watching her eat like a dog. Deirdre’s eyes blurred. She didn’t know what to do. She dreaded the further humiliation of burying her face in the bowl like some animal, but she didn’t know when she would have the opportunity to eat again. If only she had the use of her hands!
