by S. J. Lewis
“Are you trained, slave?” he asked.
“Yes, lord,” Felicia responded promptly.
“We shall see,” he said. Abruptly, he dropped the end of the chain and moved away. He went back to the couch and sat down on the edge of it. Felicia waited for a command.
“Come here, slut,” Abou ordered. Felicia got to her feet. She had had to do that with her hands bound behind her so often that she could do it gracefully now. She walked towards the man, being very, very careful not to accidentally step on her chain. She got back on her knees when she was close to him and waited, head bowed.
“Look at me, slut,” Abou ordered. She looked up at him, trying to keep her face expressionless. He peered into her eyes intently.
“I can see it in your eyes, slave,” he said after a moment. “You hate this. Don’t you?”
“Yes, lord,” Felicia answered.
“Good.” He smiled. He unbelted his robe and threw it open. The two women to either side of his couch immediately rose and came over to him. They both knelt down. One reached out with a slender hand and began to stroke his cock lightly.
“You will suck, slut,” Abou said to Felicia. “You will suck, and you will swallow, and you will keep your eyes on mine the whole time. I want to see the shame and disgust in your eyes. Do you understand?”
Felicia swallowed. “Yes, lord,” she said.
He held up a small key that hung from a gold chain around his thick neck. “If you please me, I will unlock your pussy. Would you like that, slave?”
“Yes, lord,” Felicia answered. What else could she say? He would unlock her pussy anyway when he wanted to fuck her, unless… She suddenly thought of another way he could use her body and felt sick. She was trained for anal sex now – or at least conditioned for it – but she loathed it more each time she was subjected to it. “I will do my best to please you, lord,” she added.
“I am sure,” he said smugly. His cock was still flaccid, but not quite as much. It looked almost impossibly thick as it was. Felicia wondered how long it was when fully erect.
“Get to work, slut,” Abou ordered. Felicia bent forward and down. The woman stroking Abou’s cock held it up for her. Felicia took it in her mouth, her lips curling back from the taste and the feel of it. Then she remembered his orders and looked up at him over his cock.
“Ahhhh,” he smiled warmly. “You blonde sluts always look so beautiful with your mouths full like that. Do your job well, slave.”
All Felicia could do was look up at him and make a muffled noise of assent. Her mouth was so full of his cock now that she hoped he was fully erect. If the damned thing got any bigger she feared that she’d dislocate her jaw.
“Faster, slut,” Abou commanded. “And deeper.”
Felicia whined plaintively, but obeyed as best she could. He was thick and heavy and she dreaded what might happen when he came in her mouth. Then she felt someone jiggling her chain from somewhere behind her. Abou saw her eyes widen.
“Ah, it is very uncomfortable for you?” he laughed. “My little handmaids love to play with shiny things. Keep sucking my cock, slave, or it will go very badly for you.”
Felicia wanted to bite. She wouldn’t. She didn’t dare, but she wanted to very much. Giving this man a blowjob would have been hard enough without her having to keep her eyes on his or having someone playing with the chain padlocked to her labia. She became sloppy, drooling copiously around the thick slab of man-meat stuffed between her lips, and noisy, whining and grunting with each stroke of her head and each twitch of the chain. So she sucked, and sucked, as her jaws began to ache.
When he came, it was every bit as bad as she had expected it to be. Abou groaned and groaned, sending thick, salty, nasty-tasting gouts of cum into her mouth and down her throat. At the ultimate moment, one of his gray-clad slave girls put her hand on the back of Felicia’s head to keep her from pulling back. It was unnecessary. Felicia stared up at her tormentor, gagging and grunting as he emptied himself. And then it was over. Abou pulled his cock out of her mouth and leaned back as one of his slaves lovingly washed it with a soft cloth and a basin of perfumed water.
“It was quite appealing the way that your face turned red when I came, slut,” he said. “Have you swallowed it all?”
Felicia obediently opened her mouth wide so he could see that she had.
“Very good,” he grunted and nodded. “Not every slave can manage to do that. Even my lovely Anulka, as strenuously trained as she is, cannot always do it. I will tell your master how pleased I am when I see him.”
“Thank you, lord,” Felicia puffed.
“I am exceptionally large, am I not?” he asked with a nasty smile.
“Yes, lord,” Felicia readily admitted. “You are the largest that I have ever seen.”
“Hm.” Abou grunted. “Well, then, you will have something to look forward to while you await my pleasure.” He turned to his slave women. “Take this slut over to the bed and secure her there. I will want to use her later. Until then, you may play with her as you like.”
One of them led Felicia over to the bed by the chain. Felicia followed, taking quick little steps on her toes, because the woman was holding the chain up too high. She stood alongside the bed, still on her toes, as the slave women argued about something. She wasn’t sure what it was, except that it somehow involved her.
She had learned to fear women here. Men could be very cruel. Women could be utterly vicious, and they knew all the most sensitive places to hurt. Still, she didn’t put up a fight when they made her lie down on her back on the bed. Nor did she struggle when they tied her down on it, spread-eagled. But when all three began crawling over her helpless body, fondling and caressing wherever they wanted, she couldn’t help squirming. If she did too much of that, she discovered, one of them would pull up on the chain until she squealed in pain and begged for mercy. That always seemed to amuse them enormously.
She tried to lie still and retreat into her mind, but it was impossible. They wouldn’t let her. After they had handled every other part of her body they began playing with her pussy. They seemed uncommonly interested in the rings through her labia and the little padlock that connected them. Their fingers were both nimble and insinuating, and after a bit of this attention Felicia felt herself growing wet.
She raised her head to look at what they were doing. It wasn’t easy. She was tied down very tightly and securely, and they had put a pillow under her so that her body, in addition to being stretched taut, was arched. All she managed to see was their gray, concealing robes. One of them chose that moment to finger her clit. Felicia jumped and squealed. She heard one of the women giggle.
She tried to look past her anonymous tormentors to see what Abou was doing, but there was no sign of him. Fingers stroked her inner thighs, her belly, combed through her neatly trimmed pubic thatch to tickle the sensitive flesh underneath. Felicia gave up trying not to respond. Soon they had her writhing and squirming and moaning, more in anger, shame and irritation than in pleasure. It became clear to her that this torture would almost certainly go on until Abou felt like fucking her. She didn’t like the idea of him sticking that big, fat cock up her ass, so she was at least a little grateful that she was staked out on her back. Then a more terrifying notion struck her. What if he wanted to fuck her before he unlocked her rings? Could he even do that? If he tried, she knew it would hurt like all hell, even if it didn’t tear her. But maybe he wanted it to hurt. She didn’t know much about him. Maybe he did. She felt a cold knot of fear at the base of her spine.
By the time Abou came over, the enforced foreplay had gone on for so long that each new manipulation only brought a low, throbbing pain. The three female slaves scurried away at a gesture from him, leaving him alone with Felicia. He stood at the foot of the bed, gazing down at her naked body. His gaze shifted to her eyes as he shed his robe.
“Please, lord,” Felicia whimpered. “Please…”
“’Please’ what, slave?” he smirked.
“Please, lord,” Felicia repeated. “Please unlock my rings.”
“Ah,” Abou’s smirk grew nastier. “Why would you want me to do that? Is it because you want me to fuck you, you slut? Is that why?”
Felicia gulped. She was sure that he knew why she was asking, but it suited him to play this cruel game with her. He wanted her to debase herself in front of him. And if she wouldn’t do it? He might just go ahead and screw her without unlocking the rings. And that would hurt.
“Yes, lord!” she answered, trying to sound eager. “Yes, please! That is it! I can’t wait to feel your big, hard, heavy cock inside of me. Please! Your slaves have left me in such a state that I cannot wait any longer!”
“Beg me, slut,” he said.
“I beg of you, lord!” Felicia’s voice rose as her heart sank. “I beg you, unlock my rings and take me! I am yours!”
“You are any man’s, you whore,” Abou shook his head. “You would say the same to anything with a cock.”
“No, lord!” Felicia protested. “Truly! You are the largest man I have ever seen! I want you inside of me! Please, lord!” She writhed on the bed, trying very hard to appear overcome with lust. She could see in his eyes how he desired her body. But Abou chose to play with her for a little while longer.
“Perhaps you have fucked so many men that your cunt is no longer tight,” he said. “But if I leave the rings as they are…”
“No, lord!" Felicia cried out. “My cunt is tight! It will be especially tight to a man as blessed as you! Please unlock my rings and see for yourself! Or ask one of your slaves. They will tell you.”
Abou looked back over his shoulder as if contemplating asking one of his females, then seemed to decide against it. He looked down at Felicia and slowly took the chain, with its key, from around his neck.
“You had better not be lying, slave,” he warned as he bent to unlock Felicia’s rings.
“I am not, lord!” Felicia panted. “I will please you, I swear!”
“You had better,” he said as he unlocked the rings.
“Yes, yes, I will!” Felicia said, tears streaming from her eyes. All she could think of was how shamefully she had just abased herself before this man, and how much it would hurt when he thrust his cock up into her swollen, sore, dripping pussy. As he mounted her, she shut her eyes and prayed that he would not want her ass on top of everything else.
Chapter Fourteen
She was back in the same room where she had first seen her owner and master, the sheik. After her night with Abou, which had hurt her more than a little, she had been moved into the harem, and was finally able to sleep on a comfortable bed in a room that was adequately heated and lit. And yet, Felicia felt uneasy. None of the other harem inmates had made any effort to speak to her, not even Neha. And now this, whatever this was going to be.
The sheik was entertaining a new set of guests, six men and two women, all European from the way they looked and dressed. They all seemed to speak English, though with varying types and degrees of accent, they all seemed to be wealthy, and they all were perfectly at ease here, which worried Felicia.
The sheik had turned out his entire harem to entertain his guests. Most of them were clad in the same gauzy, revealing, practically obscene outfit as Felicia had been made to wear when she was given to Abou for the night. Neha was dressed differently. More exactly, she was undressed except for narrow leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and a wider leather collar around her slender neck. The cuffs and collar had tiny bells dangling from them that chimed as she danced before the sheik and his guests to music that was being piped in from somewhere. Neha moved supplely and gracefully, apparently accustomed to being made to perform naked.
Felicia herself had to watch the barbaric spectacle from the opposite side of the room from the sheik and his guests. She had been told to kneel quietly on the cushion that had been provided, and say and do nothing unless told otherwise. She was neither naked as Neha was nor provocatively dressed as all the other harem girls were. Instead, she was covered from head to foot on a voluminous gray robe much like the ones she had seen on Abou’s slaves. Even her head and face were covered, by a separate headdress made of the same light gray cloth. A patch of lace sewn into the front of it at eye level enabled her to see, but not very well. She saw the guests eying her from time to time as she knelt quietly and knew that they were wondering about her.
Under the robe, she was naked. Even her feet were bare, though the robe concealed it. There were rings through her nipples, navel and labia. There were the familiar and hateful leather cuffs buckled around her wrists and ankles, and the equally hateful collar secured around her neck. The robe concealed those as well. And, while she had been warned not to say anything, and had every intention to obey, there was a big black ball gag stuffed into her mouth and buckled tightly in place, apparently just for insurance.
Neha’s dance was explicitly erotic, and strenuous enough that a fine sheen of her own sweat covered her body and caught glints from the lighting. She moved, she writhed, she gyrated her hips suggestively, her bare feet moved sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, but always surely, across the floor. And with every step and every move, the tiny bells rang. In spite of herself, Felicia was starting to find it fascinating, almost hypnotic. She could tell from the looks on the faces of the men and women watching that they found it the same. The women looked aroused, the men lustful. The sheik merely appeared to be amused. And every so often his gaze drifted from Neha to Felicia. That always left Felicia feeling uneasy. At first she had been happy not to be clad like the other women and made to serve the guests, but as time went by she began to worry why she had been so clearly set aside.
The music came to an end and Neha stopped dancing. She stood, feet apart, her arms at her sides, palms turned towards the audience, head down. The sheik snapped his fingers, and she dropped to her knees. Even from behind, Felicia could tell that she was breathing heavily. And now what? It was a question she had been asking herself many times since she had first been brought here.
“My friends,” the sheik said as he rose from his chair. He turned to face his guests. “I promised you all something very special tonight. Yet you have all seen my lovely little Neha dance before. Some of you have even enjoyed her company in your beds.” He waited until the brief spate of laughter had died away, then continued.
“I am quite proud of my collection of female slaves,” he said. “They are all young, all beautiful, and all well-trained and properly submissive. Would you not agree?” Again he paused while his guests all agreed, nodding.
“Yet I have long wanted to add a little variety to my stable of slaves,” he went on. “I wanted something different, something special.” Felicia saw two of the harem quietly detach themselves from the party and make their way over to her. She thought that she knew what was coming now. She was becoming accustomed to being displayed naked to complete strangers, though she would never come to like it. But the sheik seemed to like reminding her, in numerous demeaning ways, that she was his property. This would be just one more time.
“I have succeeded at last,” her master said, pointing at her. “I would like you all to see my latest acquisition. She has been trained, but she is not yet completely broken to the saddle, so to speak.” The guests all laughed politely. “Stand up, slut,” the sheik commanded.
Felicia obeyed. One of the two dark-skinned slave girls tossed aside the cushion while the other began untying the knot that was all that kept Felicia’s robe on. Felicia would have sighed wearily if the ball gag had allowed it. She felt the knot come undone and stood patiently as the two slave girls parted her robe and pulled it off of her. The hood stayed in place, still covering her head.
“Oh, my God!” one of the women guests exclaimed: “She’s absolutely stunning!”
Safe for the time being behind the anonymity of the hood, Felicia rolled her eyes.
“And very, very white, as well,” one of the men chimed in.
The men and women crowded close around her, making comments about her legs, her ass, her tits. She felt her face turning red. She recognized these people – well, the men, at least – as being from the same class she had sought out in her previous, lost life: Wealthy and amoral, intent only on satisfying their own considerable appetites and possessed of enough money to indulge themselves. Now instead of her feeding off of them, they were going to feed on her.
“Please,” the sheik said to them. “Feel free to inspect her even more closely, if you like.”
Felicia felt hands on her naked flesh. One of the women stood directly in front of her, cupping her breasts and lifting them gently. She seemed quite pleased to discover that they were real. There were other hands sliding up and down her legs, squeezing her ass, stroking her back. The woman caressing her breasts moved away and a man took her place. He squeezed them, not at all gently, and flicked at her nipple rings with his fingers, laughing at her reactions. This was the part of being put on display that disturbed her more than anything: Those hands, those nasty, groping hands, all over her. Being stared at was bad enough, especially when she could see the men devouring her with their eyes. But actually feeling their hands on her made her skin crawl. And there was nothing she could do about it. She was only property, after all, a slave, to be treated and used as her master saw fit.
