Chapter Five
Blake groaned heavily, shifting like a beached whale in his thickly cushioned seat. The pony-tailed slave at his feet was busily suctioning herself, trying to bring his flagging erection back to life. He and Trevor and Lorenzo were at a table in a private room, having just enjoyed the underground club’s version of a lap dance. It had started out conventionally enough, except that when he’d been fully aroused by the big-titted blonde, she was obliged to take out his dick and sit on it. He’d ridden her for a solid five minutes, thanking his lucky stars he hadn’t jerked off in the bathroom the way he had wanted to. As it turned out there were girls in there, too, toilet slaves who were responsible for his every need. He’d run back to the table, just in time to be led back here, to the VIP room.
“Some fucking place, huh?” groaned a very satisfied Trevor beside him, his own dick in the mouth of a chocolate-skinned woman with tiny, high-tipped breasts and a totally spankable ass.
Blake put up his hand for a high five. Sated by sex and the liquor, his movements were in slow motion. Trev met his palm, nearly missing the skin to skin.
“I think I’m gonna live here,” Trev decided. A few minutes ago, he’d been shooting himself inside the ass of a little Indian girl whose only clothing had consisted of a locked steel collar and pair of nipple clamps.
“So…” gloated Lorenzo, sitting across from them, nude from the waist down, enjoying the sensation of twin tongues on his cock and balls from a pair of very alabaster-skinned, nearly white-haired blondes with a series of nasty stripes and bruises across their sexy little buttocks. “You gentlemen still think I’m full of shit?”
“What is this you say?” exclaimed Maki, the owner, a short, squat, bald-headed Buddha of a guy, whose nickname was a shortened version of Makahiro. “Have these young puppies have been doubting you—the one and only Lorenzo the Magnificent?”
Maki wore a bright blue silk shirt, high collared and a pair of purple pantaloons. He’d abstained from any of the sex but had spent his time watching the girls’ every move. The way they feared him was obvious; Blake had no doubt that behind his easily induced, uproarious laughter and great generosity as a host, there lurked a brutal heart, capable of terrorizing any female.
“My reputation,” the mild-mannered pimp sighed, “does not precede me, it seems.”
“You boys are looking at a legend,” Maki pointed at Lorenzo with a sausage-like finger. “He was importing and training slaves when the rest of the world was still marching for women’s rights. His stable is the best anywhere, and his club,” he stretched his arms. “Humbles mine entirely. All this, is but a shadow of what he has accomplished.”
“But what exactly is all this?” Trevor complained suddenly. “I mean what do we really know about how to get girls to do all this? This isn’t real. It’s probably all drugs or some kind of mind control.”
Maki looked at Lorenzo and the pair began to laugh, hard and strong, pounding the table with their hands, the vibration vigorous enough to displace the two blonde cocksuckers working on Lorenzo.
“I told you,” Trev leaned over to Blake. “They’re all on drugs—heroin probably.”
“On the contrary,” Maki beamed. “We are high on life. Bring the Russians!” he bellowed, clapping his hands over his head.
A string of five girls was led in by two of the huge, muscle bound bouncers. They were young and pretty, wearing simple print dresses, heels and inexpensive jewelry. They wore blindfolds and their wrists were handcuffed, one to the other. The guards escorted them to the middle of the tiny stage in the center of the rounded, windowless room. There were carpets on the floors walls and ceilings, all of which was bright red. According to Lorenzo it was sound proofed to absorb screams.
In this place, unlike on the main floor, there were no limits to what could be done to the girls, which was another reason they tried so hard in here.
“Yuri,” said Maki to one of the guards, a crew-cut blonde with a perfectly straight jaw-line. "Translate for me.”
“Da,” the man acknowledged.
“Ladies,” Maki said as he templed his fingers on his generous belly, composing his thoughts. “Let me begin by welcoming you to America.”
The Russian rattled off the words in the expressive, guttural tongue of his mother country.
“Can you tell me what you were led to expect here?” Maki asked now.
The girls reply meekly, indicating everything from acting to modeling to marrying a genuine American millionaire.
“Impressive,” said Maki, pausing a moment for effect. “And I suppose I could help you with that, in exchange, perhaps for some small services?”
The girls nodded vigorously as soon as the translation came through. They may have been naïve on the other side of the world, but they were seeing the score now. Without some kind of patron, they could wind up in serious trouble or dead.
A few moments of pleasantries passed, and then Maki settled down to business. “Very well. Here is what I expect. All of you, each of five, will take off your clothes and kneel, with your heads to the floor. After that, you will be raped and then we will talk about your new lives in America.”
There was a time delay as Yuri conveyed the meaning.
The five girls gasped in horror and began to beg in Russian.
“Please, no hurt,” one of them cried in English. “No us hurt.”
“Off with the blindfolds!”
What the girls saw when the blinders were removed were the kneeling slaves, serving at the table, and the pair of girls in the back, hanging spread eagle on X crosses, the whips to beat them clenched conveniently between their teeth.
Two of the Russian girls tried to run, quite irrationally, since the room was escape-proof, while the remaining three fell to their knees in supplication. At a nod from Maki one of the guards restored order with a few judicious slashes of a riding crop through their clothes. Quite quickly, he had them on their knees and quiet.
“This is your life now,” Maki began his lecture, laying out the stark reality of their new slavery. “You have no rights, no passports, no valuables, and in a moment, no clothes. You are strangers in a strange land and you will henceforth be valued for only one thing—your ability to please men with your bodies. You will learn to fuck and suck and crawl on command, you will call every free man master and at the merest snap of his fingers, you will lay for him, offering yourself totally. You will be subject to beatings if you do not obey and even if you do, just because it may please a man to see you writhe and cry under the whip like the helpless little animals that you are. I say animals and I mean that, my soon-to-be-slaves, for as of this moment, you are no longer considered people. If and when you eat it will be from a master’s hand or from a dish or simply from the floor. You will learn to appreciate small kindnesses, begging for scraps, whimpering in pleasure at the prospect of a mattress to sleep on instead of a cage. I will see to your training personally. You will be taught to respond on command, to react with split-second precision. It is called conditioning and it is exactly what is used to train animals.”
The girls grew ashen as the words took form in their language. They were breathing harder, too.
“Pain and pleasure,” Maki persisted, enjoying their distress, “bestowed by the hands of your masters. They say that the female grows to enjoy it, that she craves it in her heart; perhaps she is designed that way, and that is why she is smaller and more sensuous, emotionally needy, made to be penetrated and taken; such a temptation to the male, wouldn’t you say? Do you ever fantasize of such things? In the towns and cities you come from? I’ll wager you have and that at some level you knew it would come to this, the moment you agreed to put your lives in the hands of strange men, to be shipped halfway round the world on the flimsiest of promises.”
Several shook their heads no as these last words filtered through. Tears streamed down their faces. Blake felt so sorry for them, but he was also itching to see them nude, and maybe to try them out. He h
ad to push the thought back, though; to have sex with girls like these under these conditions would be rape, just as Maki had said.
Or would it?
“That one,” Maki pointed to the curvy little brunette on the end, barely five foot high in stocking feet. “Bring her to me.”
The pleading girl was detached from her chain sisters and dragged by the wrist to Maki.
“Have pity, sir,” the girl pleaded through the translator.
At a signal from Maki the woman was slapped hard across the face.
“You do not speak unless spoken to. That is rule number one. Do you understand?”
“Da,” she said softly a moment later.
“Rule number two is obedience. You do what you are told by the men who own you. Do you understand?”
“Da,” she nodded, her eyes wide and wary.
“Good. You will now remove your clothes, crawl to me and kiss the head of my prick.” Maki’s hand massaged the swell beneath his silk pantaloons in anticipation
Horror flooded her eyes as Yuri gave her the command in Russian. Gone was her easy acquiescence. She was trying to appeal directly to Yuri now, trying in vain to sway the man.
Three times in rapid succession, Yuri struck her across the face. His hand was primed for another blow when she relented. Blake had to push off the girl sucking him or he’d have wasted it, so hot was the sight of the Russian girl, under obvious duress, surrendering her pathetic garments, item by item. She was shy and tearful but there was an excitement in her, too, perhaps for being made to do something so demeaning and outrageous.
“Leave the shoes,” Maki commanded once she’d unhooked the bra and slid down her pink panties. “Now turn for me, slowly. Hands over your head. I will enjoy owning you,” he said simply as she revealed her small, lean body, her tits surprisingly large and bulging, the ass cheeks undulating just slightly, the neatly trimmed pussy just showing itself between her creamy thighs.
“Enough, little one. Crawl to me now.”
The Russian looked down at the floor. It was obvious she was not used to such treatment. Even more obvious was the fact that she would obey so as not to be hurt again, but also because she was curious. Was it a turn on, Blake wondered, to be naked in a roomful of the opposite sex, knowing you are being evaluated for one thing only?
Yuri barked something in Russian and slapped her ass, encouraging her not to dawdle. The pretty young woman blushed at the remark and promptly began to lower herself. It was sexier with the shoes on, watching her hanker down in anticipation of the humiliation to come. Blake’s heart pounded with each little movement as the wide-eyed, amazed little Russian crawled to the feet of her new master.
At first she could not look up at his prick, could not even raise her head. Maki and Yuri let her linger like this for a few moments, her head down, his crotch so very close, her hair hanging forward in defeat. Blake sensed instinctively what they were doing. They wanted her to submit on her own, to subjugate herself before having to be disciplined again. The tension in her body was obvious. Blake was even willing to bet she was wet.
The next part was like sweet slow motion. The dark head of hair coming up, the eyes closed, the millimeters of distance closed as the old girl dies and a new one is born. Her sister slaves gasped in shock as she completed the act, kissing the silken crotch of the man who just moments ago had blithely announced that he was going to chain and beat and prostitute them, treating them like filthy animals for the rest of their lives.
The Russian was breathing heavily. The kiss was expanding and now it was clear the girl wanted sexual attention. Longingly she looked into his eyes conveying that she was his for the taking.
Maki was unimpressed. “This one is too frigid. Chain her in the basement till she’s ready to be raped.” he snapped his fingers. “And bring me the next.”
“Please,” she exclaimed. “Rape me now! Please, now!”
After the brunette was dragged away to her fate crying and wailing, Yuri presented Maki with a willowy blonde, her long curly yellow hair hanging down to the middle of her back. This one had the advantage of seeing what had happened to the other one; without a word being said, she reached for the hem of her short low cut dress. Her eyes were wild, conveying a steamy mix of fear, lust and weak-kneed desire as she pulled it over her head.
“These could be your girlfriends doing this,” Lorenzo reminded the boys now, encouraging them to survey the panorama of captive beauty around them.
Blake was at the brink, watching the blonde strip to bra and panties. He couldn’t wait on a piece of Russian pussy any longer. But where would he put his penis to ejaculate?
“Stop.” Maki raised his hand, just as the girl was unfastening her bra strap. “Rule number three. Don’t think for yourself. Did I tell you to undress—did I tell you anything at all?”
The girl’s mouth gaped. She knew she’d been tricked. “Forgive me,” she begged too late.
“Rule number four,” he held out his palm to receive the whip. “Expect punishment.”
“Across the master’s lap,” Yuri told her, pinioning back her arm to thrust her forward. “Now.”
The Russian girl blubbered as she assumed the position. At first she squirmed, but as soon as Maki pulled down her panties bearing her snow-white globes she became suddenly still.
“For a first offense,” he tapped her with the riding crop. “Five blows.”
Blake jolted at the sound of the whistling followed by the smooth crack of leather on flesh.
“It’s as much psychological as physical,” remarked Lorenzo for the young men’s benefits. “At this point they are just wrapping their little minds around the idea that someone would dare beat them like a horse or a dog. Once it sinks in, they’ll fight a bit and then surrender for real. Trust me, a freshly whipped girl is very, very hot to trot. It’s like nature’s aphrodisiac.”
The Russian was sobbing, trying unsuccessfully to protect herself with her hands. For her trouble, she earned two more penalty blows. Seeing the sexy stripes, bright and red on her ass was more than he could handle.
Noting his dilemma, Maki ordered a nearby slave to crouch in front of him. Happily, he spilled himself on her tits and face and neck.
“You sold us,” Trevor conceded officially. “Just tell us what to do and we’ll do it.”
“Show up here tomorrow night, boys. And have your girls with you. It’s that simple.”
Blake stared at his spunk all over the face of the crouching girl. She’d sit there forever if she were told to do so. He could feel the renewed surging in his loins yet again. The power. The total pleasure of ownership. And why shouldn’t he want that? Why shouldn’t he want the sexy Mandy like this? Naked and available to himself or whoever he might give her to? Sure, he was dominant over her now to a certain extent, but she was still uncomfortably free. Free to date other guys, to have sex with them, even to refuse him, perish the thought. Yea, he needed to do this, just as much as Trevor did with Erica.
“We’ll be here,” Blake spoke for the two of them. “Count on it.”
***
Pamela’s heart was pounding as they turned onto her street. It was already quarter after ten, which meant she was fifteen minutes late for her trick, her first trick back on the job with Lorenzo. The one he’d said she better not screw up. Tom had been good about cutting short their time, accepting her excuse of a headache and agreeing to take her home relatively early. The truth was she’d had a marvelous time. After their candid talk in the diner, he’d taken her to a nearby park to finish their discussion.
However, not a lot of talking had taken place. Instead, they’d necked like teenagers. Pamela had been randy and ready, more than willing to give herself once more to the sexy principal. But, Tom had been a gentleman, and had insisted on nothing more than passionate kissing. If he’d noticed her lack of underwear, he hadn’t said so. Her lips still burned from his kisses. She could almost feel in her chest where her heart had touched his; and his hands on
her back, so gentle, not demanding, not lusty, but almost reverent.
“You’re so beautiful,” he’d looked into her misty blue eyes. He’d said it like as if it wasn’t only her external beauty he was referring to, but what was underneath as well. All that emotion frightened her a little bit. The sex would have made it easier—if he had given some ultimatum, told her what to do or how to please him.
And yet he seemed happy just to be with her.
“It’s all right,” he’d taken her hand when she’d blubbered her apology about needing to go home. “I’m not going anywhere. We have time.”
Time. The one thing she needed more than anything. A time machine, maybe, to roll back the clock. Teeth on edge, she braced herself as the driveway came into view.
Empty.
Thank God. The man was a no-show. It would have been a disaster otherwise—trying to explain a strange car to the ever-valiant Tom, who would no doubt want to go in and beat up the intruder. Not to mention what she’d face from Lorenzo if this VIP john had gone complaining to him about a no-show whore.
“I had a wonderful time,” she beamed. “Thank you, Tom. Thank you for everything.”
Tom accepted the kiss on his cheek with amusement. “Hey,” he laughed, “when I said we’d take our time, I didn’t mean quite that slow.”
He gave her a soul kiss now, molding her lips and heartbeat to his. The depth of his passion caught her by surprise. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before in her life. Not just physical desire, but something else, too. A yearning, a need that she didn’t even have words for much less a physical act to correspond.
“I—I need to go.” Pamela was practically panting, trying desperately to pull herself back out of those deep brown eyes of his.
The slanted smile on his face indicated that he was at least partially aware of his effect on her. “You look like the proverbial deer,” he smoothed her cheek with his finger, “caught in the headlights.”
Pamela laughed in spite of herself. “It’s cause you’re my boss, and I don’t want to be insubordinate” she teased, amazed at how comfortable she was beginning to feel with this man.
Punishing Pamela Page 10
