by S. J. Lewis
“You have embarrassed me for the last time, Joanna,” he said, still sounding bored. “Your little tantrums have become too loud and too public for me to endure any more. I reminded you more than once that you could be replaced, but you still would not listen.” He let go of the girl’s wrist. She sat awkwardly on the floor, blinking up at him, too stunned or too disbelieving to understand.
“Very well,” the man said. “I wash my hands of you. If our gracious host will accept you as my gift in apology for the unpleasant little scene you just made, I will freely offer you to him. Perhaps he will be able to teach you to behave.”
“You…you can’t do that!” the girl wailed. “Please, Claude, don’t do that! I’ll behave! I will!”
“It is too late,” Claude shook his head. “Perhaps I will look in on you in a year or two to see how you are coming along. But until then, I do not wish to see you again.” He brushed away Joanna’s hand as she reached out to him and he left the room. Joanna simply sat there, visibly shocked, until two burly Asian men came into the room and made straight for her.
“No!” Joanna screamed as she scrabbled away from them. “No! He can’t mean it!”
She made it into a corner and then there was no place left for her to go. The two men seized her by her wrists. They didn’t even try to get her to her feet. They just dragged her along behind them as they went back out of the room. Joanna was kicking and screaming now. As she was dragged past Krissy their eyes met for a moment and Krissy gave her an evil little smile. Some of the guests followed along after Joanna, eager to see what would happen to her. The others remained in the room with Krissy, and soon she felt those hands roaming at will over her body again. Her breasts came in for special attention now as some of those hands tested them for weight and firmness. The brief glow of satisfaction she’d felt as that bitch Joanna got what was coming to her faded away and all the twinges, pains and aches Krissy’s body felt took up her attention again. She in such severe discomfort now that if they would just let her down from this frame she would happily agree to let anyone who wanted to fuck her fuck her in whatever part of her body they wanted. But no relief was forthcoming and gradually the last of the men, his curiosity satisfied for now, wandered out of the room, leaving Krissy by herself. She was not worried that she would be forgotten. No, at least one of them would return soon enough to use her. And then, another one would follow him, and yet another would follow that one. Would she have to endure it all while she was strung up to this torture device?
She heard a woman scream, a wordless cry that was abruptly cut off. It was probably Joanna, she thought. The notion comforted her briefly, and then the first of the men who would rape her entered the room and shut the door behind him.
Chapter Fifteen
Krissy knelt on the small cushion in the corner of the room as she had been told to, patiently waiting. She had become resigned to her status here, though she still didn’t like any part of it.
She was naked, as always, freshly bathed and coiffed and powdered. They had put some faint musky perfume on her body and in her hair. It was a scent she never would have worn herself, but as with everything else here she had no say in the matter. They had also put jewelry on her: Sparkling earrings dangled from her ears. Similar ornaments dangled from her nipples, and the tiny clamps pinched almost enough to actually hurt. She had learned not to complain about such things. If you did, they simply adjusted the clamps so that they really did hurt.
There was a wide and heavy iron collar around her neck. There was soft padding all around the inside of it, so it didn’t chafe her skin, but it was still uncomfortable. Her wrists were held in matching shackles, each one connected to her collar by a heavy iron chain. They kept her hands just above her ass.
Three other women, naked and chained and bejeweled just as Krissy was occupied the other three corners of the room. To Krissy’s right knelt a young woman with ebony skin and short, curly black hair. Her body had been oiled. To the left was another young woman, dusky-skinned, with solid hips and thighs. Her long, straight black hair had been braided. In the opposite corner knelt a tiny Japanese girl, slender and shy and small-breasted, with pink, prominent nipples. Krissy had seen her earlier, but could not see her now because six men were sitting around a heavy wooden table in the middle of the room, enjoying a hearty meal and spirited conversation. Krissy had no idea what they were talking about. She couldn’t even guess at which languages they were speaking in, though she thought that there were at least three different ones being used. One of the men was the one she had previously thought of as simply ‘the robed man’. Now, she called him ‘Great Lord’. Any other man here she must address as ‘Master’. They let her speak in English. The other women spoke in their own languages.
There were many other women here in this terrible place. Krissy had seen them, heard them, occasionally been kept in a cage with some of them. There were black ones, brown ones, tan ones, white ones, all young, all lovely and all of them desperate and frightened. Some were eager to please their masters. Others might resist at first, but, as Krissy had learned for herself, they had innumerable ways to break a woman’s will here, and the privacy, time, skill, ruthlessness and patience to do so. She had been made to watch, along with several other captive women, as Joanna was broken. They clearly intended it as an object lesson, and as much as Krissy despised the girl, it had been very, very hard to watch what she was put through and not feel some sympathy for her. Every time she’d begun to do so, though, Krissy brought up the memory of how Joanna had sat there with the other dinner guests, enjoying every minute of Krissy’s torture and rape. That always put things in perspective. In the end, Joanna lay sobbing on the cold stone floor, shivering uncontrollably, her head and body shaved hairless, marked all over with angry red welts. They might have broken her a little too thoroughly, because Krissy hadn’t seen the girl since. Well, whatever had happened to Joanna was Joanna’s concern alone. Krissy had her own problems to deal with.
The men at the table all appeared to be middle-aged, rich and powerful. Three of them, who looked southern European, wore expensive suits. An obscenely fat black man was clad in bright-colored robes in vivid patterns. Her ‘Great Lord’ sat at the head of the table, wearing the Chinese robes he always did. The sixth man, sitting at the foot of the table, was swarthy, hook-nosed, and wearing Arab dress. From where he was sitting he could look at any of the four women, but his gaze kept straying back to Krissy, and the look in his eyes made her uneasy. There was no doubt in her mind that once the dinner was over she and the other three girls would be passed out to the guests as sexual party favors. Since there were five men and only four girls, she didn’t know how that was going to work out, but that wasn’t her problem to solve. All she had to do was obey and do what she was told. She hated it, but by now she feared punishment far more. For now, at least, all she was required to do was remain still and be decorative.
Servants bustled in and out of the room from time to time, bringing food or wine and bearing away used dishes or glasses. Krissy waited. Slaves did a lot of waiting, and while free women might find that boring and demeaning, a slave, especially a sex slave, welcomed the opportunity to be left alone in peace for a while. Krissy didn’t feel especially at peace, though. The Arab kept staring at her, his dark eyes aglow with lust. He seemed to be a big man, but his robes fit him so loosely that she couldn’t tell how much of his apparent bulk was fat. She loathed being taken by any man, but being taken by a fat one was a special kind of hell for her. All her life she had admired people who kept themselves in shape and done her best to keep herself in shape. Her body had an unfortunate tendency to get a little chubby if she didn’t keep after it. That was not so much of a problem now. Her diet and exercise were strictly overseen by her slavemasters. She had become particularly adept at the yoga exercises they made her do, and was more flexible than she had ever been before. She could actually put her legs behind her head, which she was sometimes called upon to do to please
a man. On occasion she was ordered to do that in front of an audience. It never failed to make her feel ashamed.
It was clear to Krissy that women were enslaved, trained, bought and sold here. She kept seeing new faces – uncomprehending, horror-stricken and tearful faces. Some that she had become accustomed to seeing were simply not there one day, or ever again. They were always young women, eighteen or nineteen or twenty. Krissy was some years older than that, and sometimes as she lay on her cot at night she would think about that and wonder about her status and what would eventually become of her. Was she considered too old to be auctioned off? Or was she too valuable here as a trained sex slave to be sold? And what would happen to her in a few more years? She had not seen any women here older than about thirty. Where had the older women gone? She always found herself wondering how many years she had left herself. She never slept well on the nights when she thought about that.
The dinner came to an end, and the men all departed after coffee. As the Arab left the room, he gave Krissy one last lustful glance. She knew what was probably coming and resigned herself to it. She really had no choice. Neither did any of the other women here.
Servants came in and cleared the table, leaving the women kneeling quietly in their corners. A little time passed, and then two grinning Asians came in and led the black woman away, her oiled flesh glistening in the lights. Some little while later, the same two men…Krissy thought that they were the same two men, but it was hard to tell when they all wore identical loose-fitting black pajamas…came back and led away the dusky-skinned woman. Soon after that, they came back for the tiny Japanese woman, who whimpered pitifully as she went with them and gave Krissy a last, despairing look just before she disappeared through the doorway. Did she think Krissy could do anything to help her? Or that she would if she could?
Finally they came for Krissy. She let them help her to her feet and went with them out of the room, down a hallway, and into another room. She wasn’t at all sure where she was. This place was big, with so many corridors, rooms and connecting doors that it felt like a labyrinth, and she got lost easily. This room was small, with nothing in it but a small table in the corner with a wooden box sitting on top of it. The men quickly stripped Krissy of her jewelry. They were careful with the earrings, but the ornaments clamped to her nipples they simply yanked off, making her start and wince. Removing her collar and shackles took them longer as they had to go through a number of keys on a big key ring to find the one that worked. Krissy took advantage of her temporary freedom to stretch and work out some kinks from her shoulders. Then it was time for her to put her hands behind her again. They tied her wrists with what felt like silken rope, then slipped a noose of the same rope over her head and tightened it around her neck, not quite snugly enough to interfere with her breathing. Once they had done that, they led her out of the room through another door.
Krissy was past resisting them. She was past hoping for rescue or escape. She walked along behind the man who held the end of the rope around her neck and in front of the one who followed after her in the unlikely case that she would try to run. She knew better than to try. Resistance only brought punishment and pain. Reluctance brought just enough punishment and pain to make her more eager to obey. And escape was flatly impossible. Even if she could somehow find her way through this windowless maze of rooms and hallways to the surface, where could she go from there? They’d brought her up there more than once, always in the company of other naked female slaves, and she’d seen enough to know that wherever she was it was impossibly far away from any place she knew. Up above ground was a sprawling walled complex of buildings and gardens and pools full of fish. If there was a party, those gardens were decorated with naked slaves, and the fish had to share their pools with more naked slaves. The complex sat up on top of a high, wide hill. From a few places she had been able to see terraced rice paddies that covered at least one side of the hill all the way down to a bustling anthill of a village. Beyond the village lay fields and groves of trees reaching halfway up the next hill, which was crowned with trees. None of the architecture was Western. She was somewhere in the far East. She had no clothes, no money and the only language she spoke was English. There was no place to go, nowhere to run to.
They came to a flight of stairs and began climbing. The way was narrow and not entirely straight and it looked as if it had been carved out of the rocky heart of the hill. The stone steps were flat enough, but not all of the same height. They were cold on Krissy’s bare feet. She had never seen this stairway before. Usually when she was taken upstairs it was by elevator. They ascended for a long time. The stairway finally curved around to the right and kept going for another long way until they came to a long, narrow landing with a massive, iron-bound wooden door filling up the archway at the end. The man leading Krissy did something to the ornate lock and swung the door open. Cool night air wafted in, bringing the scent of flowers.
Krissy looked around as she was led through an unfamiliar garden. There were great swathes of flowers, high, dense bushes and the sound of water trickling over rocks somewhere out of sight. She had always been a city girl, but being kept for so long in windowless rooms and cells had given her an appreciation of greenery, since she now saw it so seldom. Large, round, light-colored stones marked out a path for them. They were also cold on Krissy’s bare feet, and slightly rough to the touch. As much as she wanted to see all the plants and flowers along the way she quickly discovered that she had to keep an eye on those stepping stones or stumble.
The path passed through an opening in a hedgerow and split sharply to the left and right as it ran along the edges of a wide green lawn. At the far end was a set of wide, low steps leading up to some sort of open pavilion. Krissy saw the flickering light of torches, and people moving about. Instead of following the stones, her captors proceeded to walk her straight across the grass. It felt cool and feathery. Krissy would have loved to roll in it if she could, just for the touch of something living that didn’t want anything from her.
They went up the steps and through the pavilion. There were men there, all in desert robes. Every one of them stopped whatever he had been doing to watch as Krissy was led past them. She heard some low asides spoken. She didn’t have to speak their language to understand the gist of what they were saying. No matter how many times she had been naked in front of men it still made her feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. At those times she wished for a body with fewer curves, one less attractive. She felt her cheeks burning as she felt their eyes on her and knew that they were staring at her breasts, at her ass, and at her legs.
Up more stairs they went and then a bit further until they came to a door ornamented in brass. Here one of the men knocked loudly, and then they waited. After a moment the door opened barely a crack and someone peered around it. Krissy couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman because whoever it was wore a long, loose black gown that covered them from head to foot, leaving only a one-inch wide slit for the eyes. No one spoke. The man holding the end of Krissy’s leash simply handed it over, and then the two men left. Krissy saw the slender hand that accepted it and knew that the strange figure was a woman. Whoever she was, she didn’t look at Krissy at all until the men had walked off out of sight. Then she finally turned her dark-ringed eyes, full of contempt, on Krissy. She opened the door a little wider, just barely enough for Krissy to slip through, and hauled her roughly in by her leash, quickly slamming the heavy door shut.
It was much brighter inside the building than outside and it took Krissy a moment for her eyes to adjust. They were in a large room with a marble floor. Lines of columns broke up the space. There didn’t seem to be any furniture except for some sort of large couch at the far end. The Arab from the dinner was on it, reclining on his side, smoking an ornate water pipe. He gestured for Krissy to approach him. The woman dropped the end of Krissy’s leash and stepped back and made a gesture of her own. Krissy suppressed a sigh and began walking. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the wom
an trailing after her, a little behind and off to one side as if she didn’t want to get any closer than she had to. As she came closer to the couch, Krissy saw two other women, identically covered up in black, standing off to one side in the shadows. It seemed that this man wanted an audience for whatever was coming. Krissy was used to that, but it was disturbing that the audience now was so very anonymous. She reached the couch and stopped, waiting to be told what to do. The man simply eyed her hungrily up and down and smiled. Krissy did not look at him directly. Finally he made another gesture indicating that he wanted her to kneel. Krissy obeyed, trying not to show the distaste she felt on her face. The man had changed into a simple robe, and from what she could see of his fat, hairy legs she suspected that it was all he was wearing. He reached out and fondled her breasts for a moment, grinning. It was not a pleasant grin. Krissy endured his pawing. It was another thing she was used to, but she hated it as much as ever.
The man barked out an order and the woman who had met Krissy at the door quickly stepped forward, picked up the end of Krissy’s leash as if it was covered in filth, handed it to him and quickly backed away. The man smiled nastily at Krissy and pulled her closer. The marble floor was hard on her knees. She approached until her body was almost touching the couch. The man shifted his bulk and flung back his robe. Under it, he was every bit as fat and hairy as Krissy had feared. She saw that he was already half erect. He pointed at Krissy’s mouth and then at his cock and said something. Krissy obediently leaned forward, her mouth open. The man took his cock in his hand and raised it so that she could take it in. It felt flabby and it tasted unpleasant, but she had no choice. She began sucking, keeping her eyes closed so that she did not have to look at him. Most men didn’t care if you looked at them or not, so long as you kept sucking. She felt him growing longer and harder. The taste of him didn’t improve any. Did he want anything besides her mouth? Krissy wondered. Then she felt his hand on her head, urging her to go faster. No, he didn’t seem to want anything but her mouth for now. She obeyed, wondering now if he wanted her to be silent or make some noises while she sucked. She tried out a tiny nasal grunt, and then another. She heard him grunt, deeply and gutturally. He sounded pleased, so she started to add some small moans and whines into the mix. Some men wanted you to be quiet. Some liked it if you sounded as if you were enjoying it. And others preferred you to sound like you really didn’t like it at all as long as you kept going. In fact, most of them seemed to prefer that sort of reaction. She went with that, and heard him chuckle nastily before he said something, probably to his harem. Was he telling them to watch and learn? She began sucking a little faster, her head moving back and forth rhythmically, her eyes shut, waiting for the warning groans from the man that would tell her that soon he would be coming in her mouth.
