by Ray Gordon
"This is all I have," the young man said as he entered the room clutching a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. "I'm Gary, by the way."
"Kirsty," I smiled, standing up and taking the clothes.
"So what happened, exactly?"
"I thought I was going to stay with an uncle," I began, veiling the inflamed crack of my vagina with the shorts. "It turned out that the man wasn't my uncle. He'd enticed me to the island, to his villa. Dozens of men had sex with me. And two girls."
"What made you think that he was your uncle? I mean, you must have know whether he was a relation or not."
"He wrote to me. I had no reason not to believe him. My father..." Sitting on the sofa, I sighed. "My father died when I was young. I have relations scattered all over the world. An Uncle Jack writing to me from Greece didn't seem odd. He said that he was my father's brother and he wanted to get to know me."
"Didn't you ask your family about him?"
"My mother, yes. She'd not heard of him but, like me, she didn't find it surprising that my father had a brother."
"What is surprising is that this man, whoever he is, got away with it."
"I'm not surprised. It was simplicity itself. He met me at Athens Airport and took me to the island. It wasn't as if he had to drag me or anything. I went willingly so no one would have thought I was being abducted. I wasn't being abducted. He was friendly, kind... Or so I thought. When you think how many Greek islands there are... No one would have known where I was."
"From what you've told me it would appear to be incredibly easy to carry out."
"As I said, it's simplicity itself."
"But, when people realize that you're missing and the police are called in, surely someone who saw you at the airport or the ferry terminal will come forward and..."
"There must be hundreds of blondes at the airport and ferry terminal every day of the week. Why would someone recall me in particular?"
I told Gary the whole story. Leaving out the sordid details, I told him everything that had happened from the day I'd arrived at the island. It was good to have to someone to talk to, someone who listened and sympathised. Although he'd been one of the gang, he seemed nice. Perhaps it had just been the others egging him on and the effect of alcohol, I reflected. Or was I trying to make excuses for him?
"You say he wrote to you?" Gary asked.
"Yes, he did. He asked me to spend a couple of weeks with him. He even sent me a plane ticket."
"He must have someone working for him in England," he mused. "Someone must have followed you, discovered where you lived."
"I hadn't thought of that," I murmured. "Yes, you're right. He'd obviously got my name and address from somewhere. And he must have known that I had relations all over the world."
"I suppose it wouldn't take much to discover a few things about a girl such as you. Once you've got her name and address, it would be pretty easy to learn a little about her. I wonder whether you're the first? He might have lured other girls to his villa."
"I told you about Donna. God only knows what she's going through."
"So, no one has a clue as to where you are?"
"As I said, David came to the island looking for me. But he doesn't know where I am."
"You've had no contact with anyone outside the island?"
"No, none whatsoever. I made out that one of the men had felt sorry for me and was going to send help. I also said the police had followed me from England. I was looking for a way to escape. I was trying to frighten them, I suppose. I thought they might let me go if they... I'm just so relieved to be away from that island."
Pacing the floor, Gary rubbed his chin. I thought that he was thinking about reporting Reece and the others to the police until he turned and faced me. He frowned, and then looked me up and down. I wasn't sure whether he was suspicious or worried about something as I crossed my legs and flashed him a smile. Perhaps both, I mused as he stared hard at me. I wouldn't have told the police about the rape, if that's what was worrying him. I suddenly felt awkward, uneasy as he stood before me.
"You'll stay here with me," he said. His tone was stern, threatening.
"And in the morning we'll..."
"No one knows where you are and I need a young lady to keep me company."
My heart sank. "I'll stay tonight," I said. "In the morning..."
"You'll stay for good," he returned.
"I can't," I breathed shakily, looking up at him as he towered above me. "I can't stay here for good."
"You can't go back to England. With all you know about this man, you'd be whisked away and never seen again. You'll stay here with me."
"How long for? I mean..."
"As I said, you'll stay for good."
"No, I wont," I said firmly. "I'm not going to be a slave to..."
"You have two choices, Kirsty," he grinned. "You either stay here with me, or I take you back to the island." He walked to the kitchen door and turned to face me. "Want another beer?"
My hands trembling as he went into the kitchen, I couldn't believe that I was in yet another disastrous situation. To be captured and enslaved by another man on another island was the last thing I'd expected. At least Reece and his associates couldn't get their hands on me, I tried to console myself. But I was now in a worse situation. No one other than Gary knew where I was. A couple of dozen people had known that I was staying with Reece in his villa. There'd been a chance that someone might have let slip that I was being held prisoner. The doctor might have made an anonymous call to the police and... Now I'd disappeared without a trace. Fear gripped me as it had when I'd arrived at the villa and taken a shower. My clothes had gone, I'd nothing to wear. Reece had made light of my predicament, and then turned on me and...
I knew what Gary expected of me as he returned as passed me a can of cold beer. There was evil mirrored in his dark eyes. I'd seen it before; the cold eyes, the strange expression. Was Gary another Reece? Did all men think and behave like Reece? After the way David had behaved when he'd visited the villa, I could only think the worst. I was to be Gary's housekeeper, his cook, his maid-servant, his... his sex slave.
"I'll take you back to the island in the morning if you're unhappy with the arrangement," he said mockingly, swigging from his can. He meant it, I knew. I felt that I was worse off than I'd ever been. Not even his gang bang friends knew that he'd abducted me. I'd disappeared from Reece's island in the dark of the night. Without a trace, without leaving a clue as to where I'd gone, I'd vanished into thin air. Never to be seen again?
For the time being, all I could do was agree to the arrangement. With only one man as my jailer, I stood a pretty good chance of escaping. He'd have to leave the island to get supplies and... He'd said that he was on holiday. He'd have to leave at some stage. He'd have to go home, go back to work. What would he do with me when he returned to Italy? Take me with him?
"You'd best familiarize yourself with the kitchen," he said, flopping into an armchair.
"Gary, I'm not staying here," I stated firmly. "How can you do this to me after all I've been through? After all I've said, you..."
"I don't believe a word of it," he smiled. "A fantastic plan to lure you to a Greek island? A plan devised to imprison and sexually abuse you? None of it's true, is it?"
"It is!" I cried, throwing my beer can across the room. I hated anger. "Everything I told you is true."
"I reckon that you saw us on the beach and thought you'd have some fun. Be honest, Kirsty. You're just a tart who likes to get fucked."
"Gary, every word of it is true," I said, scowling at him. "I've been..."
"Your story seemed feasible until you said your boyfriend turned up and fucked you."
"He didn't know it was me. There was a blanket over my head so..."
"Huh. Some boyfriend. You said that the police arrived and not only saw your naked body in chains in the basement but spoke to you. And you're asking me to believe that they left you like that and went away? Admit it, you made the whole thi
ng up."
"I can see that I'm not going to convince you," I sighed. "But, whatever you believe, you can't keep me here as your slave."
"Why not? If your story is true, then no one knows where you are."
"And if I'm lying? As you seem to think I am."
"If you're lying, then it serves you right. I reckon that you're on holiday. Perhaps you really are staying with your uncle. I reckon that you were taking a walk along the beach. You saw us having a barbeque and a few beers and stripped off to..."
"So why was I still on the beach when you came back? I was naked and it was pitch dark, Gary. And why did I try to steal your boat? If I'd wanted sex, as you're suggesting, why did I try to steal your bloody boat?"
"There could be several reasons. The way your mind works, it's anyone's guess. Think about it, Kirsty. The police not only saw you in chains but spoke to you. Your boyfriend fucked you and didn't know who you were. A doctor saw you, a girl turned up in a boat and was abducted, you wrecked the power cables..." He laughed and shook his head disbelievingly. "And you say that you escaped in a boat and were led back to the island by a man in another boat. You go on holiday and your boyfriend doesn't hear from you so he flies out to Greece to look for you? It's not as if you've been missing for several months, is it? And out of the hundreds of islands he just happens to get the right one. Not only was he lucky enough to get the right island, he was taken to the villa where he was invited to fuck you. And then leaves and goes on his merry way. It's fiction, Kirsty. Pure bloody fantasy."
"It's not," I said softly. "It's all true."
"There's a simple way to determine whether or not you're lying." He flashed me a grin and then smirked at me. "I'll take you back to the island first thing in the morning."
"No!" I cried, clenching my fists.
"It's either that... Or you stay here as my sex slave."
"I'll stay with you," I said eagerly.
"In that case, take your clothes off."
"Gary, I..."
"The choice is yours, Kirsty."
I had no choice, I knew as I pulled the T-shirt over my head and revealed my breasts. I looked down as my nipples stood proud in the cool of the night air. Tugging the shorts down my thighs, exposing the lips of my vagina, I kicked them aside. Standing naked before my captor, I realized how stupid I'd been. It hadn't occurred to me that all he'd wanted was more sex. He'd planned it all. A naked girl alone on the beach of a deserted island was easy prey for someone like Gary - easy prey to be whisked away. I was ever the fool.
But there was nothing Gary could do to me that I'd not already been subjected to, I reflected. Less, if anything. He had no whips or handcuffs, no suction device or wooden frame to tie me to.
"Pull your cunt lips open and show me your dirty little cock-hole," he said, swigging beer from the can. I did as I was told and peeled my vagina open. He locked his eyes to my clitoris, the pink wings of my inner sex folds. My cunt in all its intricacy was exhibited to a young man yet again. My naked body was solely for a man's pleasure. He was going to fuck me, I knew as his penis bulged in his shorts. It didn't matter any more. Men used my naked body when it took their fancy as if it was perfectly normal. Did Sharon want to spread my legs and lick my sex? What did David want?
"Stand with your feet wide apart and bend over," Gary said. Complying, I parted my feet and touched my toes. The gaping crack of my cunt blatantly displayed, the pink entrance to my juiced sex duct crudely bared, I anticipated the solid shaft of his cock driving into my hot pussy. Where was Sharon? I wondered for the umpteenth time. Was David fucking her? Perhaps she'd found another girl to hold and love and lick. Was a female tongue seeking the creamy walls of her pussy?
"Push a finger up your arse," Gary ordered me in his crudity. I'd expected nothing less of him. No words shocked me any more. No sexual acts traumatized me. Reaching behind my back, I push my finger past the tight portal to my bowels and drove it deep into the dank shaft of my hot rectum. The crude sight obviously arousing Gary's base desires, he knelt behind me and ordered me to push a second finger into my bum. My bum, my arsehole... That once sacrosanct place that even David hadn't dared to venture into. Did Sharon want to tongue fuck my arsehole?
The gentle and graceful curves of the naked female form obviously didn't concern men. Their only interest was watching women commit vulgar sexual acts such as fingering their bottom-holes and masturbating with dildos and vibrators. Cum-sluts and tarts who got fucked by three or four rock-hard cocks at once were the only thing that turned men on. Slags who sucked off two men at once, whores who took one cock up the arse and one up the cunt while sucking spunk out of another huge knob was...
Why did women bother with nice clothes and makeup when all men wanted was to watch them finger fuck their arseholes? Bras designed to accentuate the cleavage, panties that bulged alluringly with the fleshy sex lips of girls' pussies, stockinged legs and suspender belts... Men wanted none of the refinements of femininity. They wanted crude sex.
"Use this," Gary said, grabbing a screwdriver from a nearby table and passing it to me. "Shove the handle right up your arse." I was right. All men wanted was vulgar and illicit sex. Slags who cock sucked and loved facials, whores who fucked their arseholes with cucumbers, piss-sluts who peed over each other... My sentiments didn't matter any more. I was nothing, I had no emotions, no love... I was a lump of female flesh to be fucked and spunked. I was a cum-slut.
Slipping my fingers out of my hot anal sheath as Gary slapped the tensed orbs of my firm buttocks, I pushed the plastic handle of the screwdriver against the brown tissue of my inflamed anal ring. The handle slipping into my tight rectal duct witch ease, I knew that I'd have to commit one vile act after another. The vulgar sex would take me deep into the night, continue until the sun rose above the Mediterranean. The session of debauchery would inevitably terminate in a crude arse fucking. Later, I'd be fucked again. Tomorrow, I'd be fucked again and again and the next day I'd...
"Don't go away," Gary said, leaving the room. I wanted a girl, the soft gentle curves of a female to lick and suck and love. I wanted Sharon. My heart aching for Sharon's vaginal folds, my mind aching for freedom, my body aching for rest, I stood upright. The screwdriver emerging between the rise of my naked buttocks, I stretched my legs. I pondered on attacking Gary, trying to fight him and steal his boat. But no. Donna had been right. After so many failed escape attempts, I'd eventually give up trying. That had been Reece's idea. Let me go and recapture again and again and I'd eventually give up. His psychological strategy had worked. I had given up trying to escape. I was resigned to the fact that my fate was sealed.
I'd undergone a series of mental changes. When Reece had first imprisoned me, I'd experienced cold fear and dread. That fear had turned into frustration and annoyance at my defencelessness. I felt helpless now, but anger was welling, bubbling deep within my very being. I'd been vulnerable and naïve for too long. I'd trusted, only to have that trust betrayed. Fury was building now; and threatening to erupt in an explosion of uncontrollable wrath.
Gary returned with a length of rope and bound my wrists behind my back. Bondage led to spanking. Spanking led to fucking.
Gary looked puzzled as I stared at him. Although my hands were tied, this was a one to one situation. He and I alone. I sat on the sofa and looked up at him. He rubbed his chin, obviously wondering what I was thinking, wondering what to do. Now he had a choice.
"Get on the floor," he ordered me angrily.
"No," I returned. "You'll let me leave, Gary. You'll untie my hands and..."
"Let you leave?" he laughed.
"You're right, I was lying. I'm staying on the island with my uncle, and my father and three brothers. Once they realize that..."
"That's a lie, and you know it," he returned. "I'm going to keep you here as my sex slave. You'll learn to do as you're told, eventually."
"I've heard it all before. The threats... I've been there, Gary, and I'm not going there again. You dare touch me and
I'll..."
"You'll what? I believe in fate, Kirsty. You happened to be on the beach, naked. You came over to us, obviously wanting sex. I returned to the island and there you were. It's as if you were waiting for me."
"I thought you were rescuing me, not..."
"This is fate, your fate. Now get on the floor and take it up your arse, you whore."
"I'm not going to..."
"Perhaps you'd rather my friends came over and joined in?"
Leaving the sofa, I dropped to my knees and rested my head on the carpet. The screwdriver protruding from my tight bottom-hole, the entrance to my wet vaginal sheath crudely bared, I knew that there was nothing I could do to prevent the violation of my naked body. He was right; this was my fate. Anger had given way to submission. Submission was the offer of my naked body to a virtual stranger to do with as he wished. I was a fuck-tart, a cum-slut.
As he pulled the screwdriver out of my rectal sheath, I closed my eyes. I felt the bulbous glans of his knob running up and down the sensitive valley of my pussy, my juices of sex lubricating his weapon-head in readiness for the crude penetration of my arse. Trying to relax my anal sphincter muscles as he pressed the swollen plum of his cock hard against my rectal inlet, I took a deep breath and thought of Sharon. I wanted to push the tip of my tongue against her brown iris and taste her there.
The delicate tissue of my anus yielding, opening as he pushed his solid knob into my rectum, I wondered whether he had bondage equipment and whips, I mused as his shaft forced its way deep into the inflamed shaft of my anal cylinder. His heavy balls coming to rest against the lips of my cunt, my ring hugging the broad root of his organ, I imagined a church candle forced deep into my arsehole as he gripped my hips. Was that what I wanted?
"I'll give you an arse fucking you'll never forget," he breathed, withdrawing his huge cock. Driving his swollen knob deep into my defenceless body, his stomach meeting my naked buttocks with loud slaps as he repeatedly withdrew his cock and rammed his bulbous knob into my tight arse, I felt my pelvic cavity inflating and deflating. The sensations were different, unlike the ones I'd had when I'd been arse fucked in the past. Perhaps my anal channel was enlarging, I mused. Continually fucked and spunked, the sheath of my rectum was no longer tight and restricting. There again, perhaps he was just big.
