Beautiful teenage girls-trapped in a nightmare world of sadistic adult lusts!
Here are strange and shocking stories of innocent young beauties who bring out the lustful beasts in adult males and females.
These cruel adult masters use bondage, discipline, and humiliation to force young girls into complete sexual slavery.
Here are young lovelies caught in a web of evil and carnal cruelty!
"VIRGIN CAPTIVE FOR THE CULT"-a minister's virgin daughter is kidnapped by a devil-cult. She suffers at the center of a sex-crazed black magic orgy!
"INQUISITOR'S RAPE ORGY"-a cruel and evil monk condemns the fairest beauties to the horrors of his castle dungeon. They must serve and obey him in every perverted way or scream in agony!
"PUNISHED PRISONERS OF LUST"-A sadistic she-devil needs four new whores to please her masters. Her captives: four innocent American beauties. She transforms them into sluts and sex slaves!
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VIRGIN CAPTIVE FOR THE CULT
CHAPTER ONE
In his basement laboratory in a house of the damned, mad Dr. Munsey performed bizarre sexual experiments on his latest female captive.
From the outside, the house looked like any other.
It was lonely and isolated. Curtains covered every window, so the few local villagers, inquisitive neighbors, and curious passersby couldn't see what was going on inside.
One thing which the curtains hid were the iron bars on the windows.
These bars were not so much to keep outsiders out, as to keep the female slaves locked inside, so they couldn't escape.
One of these helpless captives was Betty Lane.
She was young, in her early teens. She was a pretty, clean-cut girl who came from a decent family and loving parents.
Nothing in Betty's young life had ever prepared her for this.
She was in the basement. She was naked and strapped down to a table.
She had been naked for days, ever since they first brought her into the house. The first thing they did was take her clothes off her.
Her captors tied her down with her legs spread.
Betty cried. She told them that she was a good girl.
They laughed. When they stopped laughing, they took her.
Betty was raped by the men and the women.
They used all of her body-her pussy, her mouth, even her virgin ass.
They pumped her full of drugs and took turns sexually abusing her.
And when they were done with her-they gave her to Dr. Munsey.
Now, it was shortly past midnight.
Betty was strapped down on the table, while the doctor and his beautiful but cruel leather nurse hovered over her.
The table was in the center of the floor. It was covered with a rubber sheet.
Betty lay on her back. Canvas restraining straps, the kind used in hospitals to hold down violent patients, kept her immobile on the table.
Betty was a pretty blonde. Her straw colored hair was in braids, two of them which hung down on either side of her terrified face.
Her round face showed her youth, and retained traces of baby fat.
Her eyes were deep blue. The black pupils were unnaturally enlarged from the senses-deranging drugs which had been given to her during her ordeal.
Her eyes bulged as she fearfully watched the doctor and his assistant.
A scattering of freckles was sprinkled across her face. She had a sassy, upturned little nose and rounded cheeks.
Her pink lips were stretched by the red rubber ball gag which filled her mouth.
Saliva drooled from the corners of her lips, wetting her chin.
Her flesh was deathly pale. She had not seen the sun since she was first taken prisoner. It had all happened like a bolt of lightning.
Betty had been standing on the corner, waiting for a bus.
She had just finished working a shift at her after-school job.
She got off work at eight o'clock. She stood on the corner, near a clump of dark trees and a wooden bench which needed painting.
She lived in a small town, a quiet and peaceful suburban town.
It was night and dark, but she wasn't worried about standing there alone. Sure, there was lots of crime in the big cities, but not in her town.
A panel van, dark green, rolled to a stop on the corner.
Two men sat inside. The man on the passenger side rolled down the window.
Betty hugged her school books to her chest and turned away. She was young, but older guys, and even grown up men, had tried to pick her up before.
As if she were that kind of a girl!
The man called to her. Betty saw him for the first time.
He reminded her of some kind of ape. No, not a gorilla, a baboon.
He had a low forehead, bushy eyebrows, tiny little red eyes, a wide nose, and a large jaw. His shoulders were very large.
His appearance in the night, in the dark, frightened her.
He stuck his head out of the window and looked up and down the street.
There weren't any cars in sight. Betty was alone-with them.
His thin lips drew back, showing a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth.
He opened the door. That's when Betty tried to run.
He was amazingly quick. He leaped like a lunging beast, and caught her before she had moved a half-dozen paces.
Betty's scream was shrill and thin.
He clapped his hairy hand over her mouth, muffling her.
Holding her from behind, he lifted her and carried her to the van.
He laughed at her futile struggles. She kicked and punched him. He laughed at her small fists and the desperate way she beat at him.
He dragged her into the van, into the back of the vehicle.
The van drove away.
The nightmare was just beginning.
The ape-like man was called Mandrill. That's what the driver called him.
The driver was more normal looking. He was in his late twenties, with dark hair and a bony, hard-featured face. He was called Clinton.
Mandrill threw Betty in the back. She fell on her hands and knees on the black rubber floor of the van.
She wore a long-sleeved pink blouse, a plaid skirt, knee socks, and loafers.
She fell awkwardly. Her dress was pulled up, showing her white cotton panties.
Mandrill grinned, licking his lips.
Betty screamed. He grabbed her and rocked her with vicious open-handed slaps which left her face raw and red.
"Shut up," he grunted at last.
He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a pair of handcuffs.
They were bright and shining. He held them by one cuff. The other cuff dangled at part of its small length of chain.
Betty whimpered, "No-No!"
He wrestled her down to the floor, then pushed her on her back and straddled her. He held her hands over her head and cuffed them together.
Then he grabbed her breasts.
They were small and pert and firm. She wasn't wearing a bra.
He tore open her shirt. Buttons popped off and rolled on the floor.
Her breasts were small budding mounds with tiny pink nipples.
She stared in horror as Mandrill's paw-like hands roughly fondled her.
He squatted on her, his buttocks resting on her flat tummy, his muscular thighs pressing against her flanks.
He got off her and lifted her skirt.
Betty screamed again.
He covered her mouth with his hand. He grabbed a fistful of her white panties and savagely tore them off her body.
His beady eyes, red and glittering, stared hungrily at her body.
Her hips were narrow, with prominent hipbones. Her lightly haired bush was a soft, silken shade of brown, covering the thin pink slit of her pussy.
Mandrill's stubby fingers, with their cracked nails, poked and prodded her pussy.
He chuckled wetly as she writhed on the floor.
He balled up her torn panties and stuffed them in her mouth. He tied and gagged her, then rode in the back of the van with her for the rest of the trip.
After he tied her, he lifted her skirt and bunched it up around her waist so that he could enjoy the sight of her nudity.
He pulled her tattered blouse open so he could see her naked breasts.
Throughout the ride, which took over an hour, he amused himself with little cruelties probing, pinching, and pulling her flesh.
Finally the van came to a stop.
Clinton, the driver, got out of the front and walked around to the back and opened the double doors at the rear of the van.
He and Mandrill picked Betty up and carried her outside.
It was night in a lonely place. She caught a glimpse of rolling farmland, meadows overgrown with rank grasses, thick patches of woods.
An old Victorian house sat on top of the hill. This was the house of the damned. It was three stories tall, with gables and a peaked slate roof.
Mandrill and Clinton brought her around to the back of the house.
They set her down on her feet. She was so terrified that she could hardly stand. Mandrill held her from behind, supporting her.
He cupped her breasts and kneaded and fondled them.
His groin pressed against her backside. Her skirt had fallen down, covering her, but she could feel the hardness of his stiff cock.
Mandrill rubbed his hard penis against her.
Clinton rang the buzzer. After a moment, a panel opened in the door.
Someone looked outside. Clinton told her to hurry up and open the fucking door.
Bolts were thrown and locks were opened. Betty was dragged inside.
The door was immediately relocked and bolted.
"What have you got for us this time, Clinton?"
The speaker was a big-breasted, black-haired bitch. Her name was Echo, Betty later learned.
Echo was tall and strong, with a wide hard face, thin lips, and cold eyes.
She was in her middle thirties. She had wide shoulders, heavy breasts, a small waist, wide hips, rounded thighs, and long legs.
Her black hair was cut short and spikey. Her face was tough but attractive.
She wore a red blouse, a black leather micro-skirt, and black boots.
"Take her to Room 5," Echo said. "Take her to Room 5."
Room 5 was on the first floor of the old house. It was a small room, one of a series of small rooms on either side of a narrow, dimly lit corridor.
The room was hardly bigger than a closet. There was a metal-framed cot, a cabinet, and a few kitchen chairs.
With Betty, Mandrill, Clinton, and Echo in the room, there was hardly any space at all.
Looking at Betty, Echo commanded, "Strip her."
"A pleasure," Mandrill grinned.
Cloth tore as hard hands shredded what remained of her garments.
Betty was stripped naked. She tried to use her hands, which were cuffed in front of her, to cover her pussy.
Echo took the gag out of the girl's mouth. The wadded panties were soaked through and through with saliva. Betty couldn't speak.
At last she whispered, "Who-who are you? What are you going to do to me?"
"Do as you're told, and you won't get hurt," Echo snapped. "That's the most important rule for you to learn here."
"Are you kidnapping me?" Betty asked.
"She wants to know if we're kidnapping her," Mandrill mocked. "Get that."
"My folks don't have much money," Betty said. "Honest, I swear it!"
"We don't want your money, dear," Echo said.
"Then-what do you want?!"
"This!" Echo thrust her hand between Betty's legs.
The girl shrieked. Her three adult captors laughed.
Clinton asked, "Well, is everything okay?"
"I suppose so," she said. "Then we can get started on her?"
"Go ahead."
Mandrill said, "I get to go first!"
"Like hell!" Clinton laughed.
"It was me who saw her!"
"Yeah ... but I'm the brains of this partnership," Clinton said.
"The blind leading the blind," Echo sneered.
"I know you're a busy gal. Echo," Clinton said. "We wouldn't want to keep you from your work. You can run along now-we know what to do."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Echo laughed.
"Unless you're planning on sticking around and having a piece of this little bitch yourself. I know you like those young girls, Echo."
"Have your fun, boys," she said. "Try not to do any permanent damage."
Echo turned to leave. Betty cried, "Wait, please don't go!"
"You see?" Clinton said. "She likes you. Echo. All the girls like Echo--until they find out what she likes to do in bed."
"Shut your fucking mouth, you bastard!" Echo hissed.
"Oooh, I think you hit a sore spot, Clinton," Mandrill laughed.
Echo said to Clinton, "One of these days, somebody's going to take a knife to you, you scumbag!"
"His mother already tried," Mandrill chuckled.
Clinton glared at his partner. His face whitened with fury. Without warning, he struck Mandrill in the face, knocking him down.
Mandrill crashed into the wall, knocking paint chips loose. They fell in a rain on him when he sat down hard and rubbed his swollen chin.
"You bastard! What'd you hit me for?!"
"I told you I don't like people talking about my mother," Clinton said.
"Talk about her?! What about you? You did more than talk, you fucked-"
"Shut up!"
Mandrill fell silent. He stuck his stubby finger in his mouth and felt a tooth. "I think you knocked a filling loose, you prick."
Echo's laughter was harsh. "What a pair! What a pair!"
"Go on," Mandrill scowled, "go on and get out of here."
"What a pair! Are you sure you know what to do with the girl, or should I stick around and draw you a diagram?"
Echo's shoulders shook with laughter as she exited the room, shaking her head, chuckling, saying, "What a pair! What a pair!"
"Bitch," Clinton spat at her when she was gone.
He helped Mandrill to his feet. Mandrill said, "You shouldn't have ought to hit me like that, man. You shouldn't ought to have done that."
"Sorry," Clinton said. "It's just that I go a little crazy when anyone mentions Ma. Sorry." He brushed the paint chips off Mandrill's broad shoulders.
During this time, Betty had stood in the corner, horrified.
"What are you doing over there, honey?" Clinton leered. "Hiding? Hey, that's not very sociable. Come on over to bed and let's get .acquainted."
He and Mandrill dragged the girl to the cot.
The mattress was covered with a white plastic waterproof covering. The men pushed Betty down on her back, and held her down when she tried to rise.
Clinton sat on the bed's edge. He rested his palms on Betty's small breasts, pressing them flat, rubbing and kneading them.
"Spread her legs and tie them down," he told Mandrill.
Mandrill gripped the girl's thin ankles in his thick hands. Even though she fought to keep her legs closed, he easily pried them open and apart.
Chains were attached to the cot. Cuffs were attached to the chains.
The padded cuffs were fastened around Betty's ankles. They kept her legs spread open so she couldn't close them.
Mandrill said, "She's a pretty little piece, ain't she?"
"Yeah." Clinton laid his hand on Mandrill's shoulder. "Tell you what I'll do. Just to show you that I'm sorry for clipping you before, I'll let you have first crack at this little cunt."
"Gee-no kidding?"
"No kidding."
Mandrill stood up and took off his shirt. His shoulders were unnaturally developed, with thick slabs of muscle rippling and rolling as he breathed.
His barrel chest was covered with a tangled thicket of black hair. He was furred like a bear, or a gorilla. Hair seemed to sprout from every pore of his flesh.
While his upper body was overdeveloped, his lower body seemed stunted, with bowlegged, spindly limbs. The only area below the waist where he was not lacking was in the groin. His groin bulged in his tight trousers.
Clinton stretched Betty's arms over her head. He unlocked the handcuffs, set them aside, and manacled her wrists with the chains at the bed's head.
"She's all yours. Mandrill."
Mandrill squeezed his cock through his trousers. His cock was hard. It looked like a piece of pipe or a length of cable tucked in the crotch of his pants.
Betty tried to speak. At first, she was so frightened, and her mouth was so dry, that nothing came out of it but a wordless croak.
Finally she said, "Please-please don't do this to me!"
"Sorry, honey," Clinton said.
"But why me?!" she shrieked. "I don't know you! I never did anything to you!"
"Nothing personal, darling, you understand. This is strictly business."
Clinton paused and stared at Betty's naked body, all pink and white and shining in the harsh light of Room 5. He rubbed his chin.
"Well, maybe it's not all business," he admitted. "You're a damned good-looking little piece."
Mandrill's stubby fingers unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper.
Betty groaned with horror and looked away when he dropped his pants.
Mandrill stepped out of them. He wore no undergarments, so he was naked.
His erection, freed from his confining pants, now jutted out from his hips. It was a thick rod of flesh with a swollen head as large as a mushroom cap.
His bush was a tangled jungle of hair. His balls were lumpy and swollen, with the left testicle significantly larger than its partner on the right.
Mandrill closed his fist on his cock. Inches of the shaft, and its knobbed head, protruded from the top of his fist.
Betty screamed.
Ginton and Mandrill let her shriek until her voice was raw and ragged.
When she paused for breath, Clinton said, "That noise won't do you no good. All these rooms are soundproofed. Besides, there ain't nobody around to hear you."
"I'll give her something to scream about," Mandrill said.
He did.
He sat down on the mattress. Betty shrank away from him, but the chains which held her spread-eagled didn't give her much room to move in.
Mandrill gripped his fat cock and slapped it down on her smooth inner thigh. It was hard and hot. Betty nearly fainted.
He played with her breasts. He took hold of the tiny pink nipples and pulled them until they were stretched out of shape.
Then he twisted them until she was screaming for mercy.
When he stopped, her nipples were stiff, red, and swollen to twice their normal size. Purple bruises covered her trembling white breasts.
Betty sobbed hysterically. Tears rolled down her shaking face and spattered on her breasts and on the plastic mattress cover.
Mandrill knelt between her spread legs. His dangling erection was a stiff red arrow pointed at the tender target of her pink slit.
Betty shuddered with revulsion as he stretched out on top of her.
His breath was foul, and he hadn't bathed for a long, long time. There was a pungent smell hanging around him which summoned up memories of the zoo.
His matted chest hair was thick and bristling, and scraped her raw, sensitive nipples. His stiff hot cock brushed her thighs and pussy.
He reached under his belly and gripped his cock and guided the head to her pussy.
Betty squirmed and screamed as the fleshy cock head bumped her softest, tenderest, most intimate body part.
Mandrill stuffed the cock head inside her. Its broad head was a wedge of flesh which stretched her thin pussy lips, splitting and spreading them.
She was tight and dry. Mandrill grunted and cursed as he struggled to force his long, thick rod of flesh deep into her.
Without lubrication, he couldn't gain much headway. Disgusted, he pulled out of the weeping teenager, smeared saliva on his palm, and covered his cock head with it.
The saliva made it easier for him to penetrate her. But it wasn't easier for her to take him inside her. She was no virgin, but she had only been with a boy once or twice. He had been her own age, and tender and gentle.
Mandrill pinned her hips down to the mattress, impaling her on the shaft of his cock. Inch by inch, he forced his member inside her.
Finally, her membranes began to ooze secretions, welcome juices which greased her inside and made it somewhat easier on her.
That lessened the pain of penetration. But it couldn't lessen the horror of having Mandrill on top of her, inside her, humping away at her.
He raped her brutally, slamming his member in and out of her. His face was red and swollen, his mouth was a black hole wheezing for breath.
Betty was in shock, numb, stunned.
She was only dimly aware when Mandrill halted his mechanical thrusting in and out of her pussy.
He thrust deep, deeper than he had forced her to take it, as deep as he could go. Betty screamed when his cock head bumped the mouth of her womb.
He came inside her. He shook and swore and shivered on top of her, while his stiff cock spurted thick quantities of semen into her pussy.
Mandrill blinked his beady red eyes. He rubbed the stinging sweat from them with the backs of his hands. His crooked smile was loose, relaxed.
His cock glided over her membranes, which were now lubricated with his semen. Her pussy ached as his knobbed cock head stretched her irritated labia as he pulled out of her. His cock was still thick and semi-erect.
After a moment, semen oozed from her swollen labia and trickled on the bed.
As Mandrill rose up from the girl, Clinton was pulling his own pants down.
His cock was longer and thinner than Mandrill's. He knelt on the mattress near Betty's head and punished her until she took his cock in her mouth and sucked it.
He made her swallow it down when he came inside her throat.
CHAPTER TWO
That was only the beginning of Betty's nightmare ordeal.
All through the night. Mandrill and Clinton took turns raping her.
Sometime during the proceedings, Clinton left Room 5 and got a bottle of liquor from somewhere. He and Mandrill passed it back and forth, swigging it.
Pain, terror, and sheer physical exhaustion left Betty semi-conscious.
As the night wore on, she hardly screamed at all. She was used to the demands made on her body. She did what her captors told her to do.
By the time that Mandrill made her lick his balls, and then take his cock in her mouth and suck it, she did it like she was sleepwalking.
Dr. Munsey came to see her the next morning.
Clearly he was a cut above her brutal rapists. The doctor was a tall thin man in his early fifties, with a high forehead a pencil-thin silver mustache.
He wore a white lab coat and a white shirt and a black tie and black slacks.
Betty was sore and aching. Her thin pussy lips were chafed and swollen, highly irritated from the repeated violations of her pussy.
Her membranes ached, too, with a deep, dull, throbbing pain.
Scratches and bite marks covered her soft white flesh. Her lips were swollen and the skin around her mouth was puffy.
Betty was reassured by the doctor's calm manner. He shone a flashlight in her eyes, stuck a tongue depressor in her mouth, listened to her heart with a stethoscope, pounded and thumped her chest, and generally examined her.
Her voice breaking with choking sobs, Betty begged the doctor to take her out of this horrible place, before she went out of her mind.
The doctor smiled reassuringly and smoothed her hair back from her forehead.
He took a syringe out of his black bag and filled it with a clear colorless fluid from a vial. Betty asked him what it was.
Something to relax her, he said.
He rubbed her arm with a cotton ball coated with alcohol. Her flesh was cool and tingling where he swabbed the liquid on the inside of her elbow.
He injected her with the drug.
She felt it right away. It made her sleepy and lightheaded. She didn't pass out, but she felt her will to resist draining away.
The doctor closed up his bag and left the room.
A short time later, Echo came in the room. She wore a high-collared tan blouse, a brown skirt, and brown shoes.
She closed the door. She set down a basin of water and some cloths on top of a cabinet by the bed. She pulled down the sheet, uncovering Betty's naked body.
Echo unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. Betty's drugged mind wondered why she was doing that. Echo wore a lacy black bra.
She took that off, too. Her heavy breasts tumbled free from the bra. The mounds of flesh were soft and white, with fat brown nipples.
She took off her skirt, too. A pair of black satin panties stretched across her wide white hips. The panties fit her tightly, outlining her arched pubic mound, revealing the fleshy folds of her pussy.
The panties were low-cut, and the fringed top of Echo's thick black bush could be seen curling over the elastic waistband.
Echo wet the cloths and gave Betty a sponge bath.
She paid special attention to the girl's pussy. She cleaned the soft labia, wiping up the sticky semen which had dried on them. , She even cleaned out the inside of Betty's pussy.
As she leaned over the chained girl. Echo's dangling breasts rubbed Betty's face, the fat brown nipples stiffening as they grazed the girl's flesh.
Echo put aside the wash cloth and the sponges and towels.
She leaned over Betty again. Her breasts nuzzled the girl's face.
When Betty opened her mouth to speak, Echo fed her nipple into it.
Betty was startled as the rigid nipple and the soft flesh surrounding it filled her mouth. Echo held her head down so she couldn't pull it away.
"Be a nice girl," Echo said. "Don't make me hurt you."
Betty's puffy pink lips puckered and sucked the nipple.
After a while, Echo disengaged her breast from the girl's mouth. The nipple glistened with saliva.
Echo hooked her thumbs in her panties and pulled them down.
She was a full bodied, full grown woman. Her bush was a thick black triangle, and her pussy lips were thick and fleshy.
She climbed on the bed. She mounted it so that she straddled Betty's upturned head, and faced the girl's feet.
Echo's knees dimpled the mattress on either side of Betty's face. Her legs were folded under her, and the soft smooth thighs pressed the girl's head.
Echo's pussy hovered over Betty's face.
"Eat me. bitch." Echo lowered her pussy down on Betty's mouth.
The soft pussy lips touched the girl's mouth. The labia split and spread, exposing dark sleek pink membranes.
A thick, musky aroma of female sex filled Betty's nostrils.
The girl's pleas for mercy were muffled by Echo's pussy. Echo was excited. Washing the girl's private parts, feeling and fondling her, had turned her on.
She leaned forward, causing her pussy to press even harder on Betty's mouth.
Echo rested her palms on Betty's soft smooth thighs. She lowered her head to the girl's pussy and licked the labia with her tongue.
Betty's pussy tingled from the gliding oral stimulation.
Echo rocked her pussy on Betty's mouth, urging her to action. She thrust her own tongue deep into the girl's pussy, and licked the walls.
Betty, not. really knowing what she was doing, timidly stuck her tongue into Echo. The older woman's pussy was wet and dripping with juices.
Even with her ears covered by Echo's thighs, Betty could hear the older woman sigh with deep satisfaction as the girl began tonguing her in return.
Echo's tongue moved upward along the girl's slit and pressed against her clitoris.
The sudden stimulation made Betty writhe on the bed.
The teenager's clitoris was a tiny pearl of flesh. Echo's pointed tongue tip rubbed and polished that fleshy pearl until it was rolling in natural oils.
Betty followed the lead of the older woman, and duplicated what she was doing. Echo's clitoris was much bigger than Betty's, a marble to the younger girl's pearl.
Echo, excited, rubbed her pussy against Betty's mouth, grinding it.
She stopped tonguing the younger girl, and concentrated on her own pleasure.
She sat up straight, and rode Betty's lips and tongue to her orgasm.
Echo gripped her own breasts, clutching them so tightly that the soft flesh oozed through her fingers. She roughly pinched her nipples.
Betty's tongue was sore and throbbing, but she kept it working. Echo climaxed.
She squeezed her thighs tightly against Betty's head. For an instant, her hot wet membranes filled the girl's nostrils and mouth, smothering her.
Echo shook and rocked like she was being electrocuted.
After her shuddering climax passed, she gasped and leaned forward, resting her palms on the bed, lifting her pussy off Betty's face.
Betty gasped great gulping breaths of air.
Echo climbed off the girl's face like she was dismounting a horse after a good hard ride. She pushed aside the strands of her hair which sweat had plastered down on her face.
Betty's face was covered with juices from her hairline to her chin. Groaning, she shivered with revulsion and closed her eyes.
Echo was pleased by the captive teen's performance. She unlocked the chains and let Betty walk around the room for a while.
Betty was weak and shaky. Echo slipped her arm around the girl's slim waist and held her upright. Their soft flesh touched and rubbed together.
Betty was weak, and unable to walk around for long.
Betty drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Later, Randi Hopkins brought her some food.
Randi was Dr. Munsey's assistant. She was a redhead in a white nurse's cap and uniform. Black rubber stockings sheathed her long legs.
Her eyes were green. Her wide, cruelly sensual lips were red. She smirked down at Betty as the girl sat up in bed and leaned back against the wall.
Randi's breasts were conical and pointed. They thrust against the front of her white uniform. Her ass was exceptionally ripe and rounded.
She had a tray with some food on it. There was some thin soup, some pieces of bread, a glass of milk. Betty wolfed them down.
There must have been some drug in the food, because Betty felt tired and sleepy even before she finished eating, slurred, faded, and then stopped as she passed out.
That afternoon, a man came to her.
Betty expected him, since Echo had popped in to tell her that she would have a visitor. The man arrived shortly after.
Echo called him Jim. Jim was a big man with a head of black hair, a nose which had once been broken and never properly re-set, and thin, liver colored lips.
Echo stripped to the waist. Jim slipped his thin leather belt out of the loops of his pants, and doubled it in his hand.
Betty gasped and backed up until she backed into a wall.
Echo and Jim closed in on her.
Whimperingly Betty begged them not to hurt her. They didn't have to use pain to make her obey. She would do what they wanted.
"What we want," Echo smiled grimly, "is to make you suffer!"
They grabbed Betty, lifted her off the floor, and carried her kicking and screaming to the bed.
Jim sat on the edge of the mattress, his feet on the floor. He pulled Betty face down across his lap. Echo helped hold her down.
Jim moved her around on his lap. Her naked pussy and small tufted bush rubbed his groin. Echo gripped the girl's wrists and held her arms out in front of her.
Jim slashed the leather belt across the girl's naked bottom.
There was the dull, sickening crack of leather against bare flesh.
An ugly red mark cut across Betty's rounded cupcake buttocks where the belt struck her. Betty shrieked and cried.
Jim held her down tightly while he whipped her ass red and raw. He hooked his leg around her ankles to hold her kicking legs down.
Echo leaned over the girl, her eyes excited and hot, her heavy breasts slapping against Betty's gasping, moaning, tear-stained face.
As Betty thrashed around on Jim's lap, her naked pussy rubbed his groin until she felt his member thrusting against her, thickly erect.
Jim tossed aside his belt and pushed her off his lap.
Betty knelt on the floor, her sobbing face buried in her hands.
Tears glistened on her trembling breasts as she sobbed hysterically.
Jim opened his pants and pulled them and his shorts down to his feet.
He grabbed Betty's braids and twisted them, pulling them by the roots.
Her head jerked up. She saw his stiff cock looming in her face.
Holding her braids with one hand, he gripped the base of his cock with the other.
"Suck it," he commanded.
Timidly she opened her mouth. He leaned into her, his fleshy cock head bumping her lips. He stuffed his cock head into her mouth.
It stretched her lips. He pushed deeper. His cock snaked in deep.
Betty's eyes widened with alarm. The cock head bumped the back of her throat.
She nearly gagged. Jim used the braids as reins to control her head movements.
He pushed her back. Her puckered lips glided over his shaft.
His stiff penis was red with blue veins on the shaft. It was glistening with saliva and semen as it emerged from inside her mouth.
He pushed her head away from him until only his knobbed cock head remained in her mouth. Then he pulled her head back to him.
His cock pushed back inside her mouth.
Back and forth, in and out, he repeated the movements, speeding them up as his excitement increased. His chest rose and fell with heavy breathing.
Each time his pumping cock emerged into view, the shaft blazed redder than ever.
Finally he pushed his cock in deep, and kept it there.
The stiff penis twitched and jerked on her tongue.
Jim groaned as semen spurted from his cock head.
Sick with disgust, Betty almost pulled her head away. Jim yanked at her braids, pulling her head even closer, his cock filling her throat.
His voice rasped as he commanded her to swallow his come.
Betty's throat and jaw muscles flexed as she obeyed.
She gulped down the spurting semen like it was a dose of nasty medicine. She tried to swallow it without tasting it on her quivering tongue.
Jim sighed with satisfaction.
He kept his cock in her mouth long after he stopped coming.
At last, he pulled his member out of her mouth.
Semen spilled from her lips and clung to her trembling chin.
Jim didn't bother to pull up his pants. He left them hanging around his ankles as he shuffled across the room and sat down on the bed.
His cock was red, rubbery, semi-erect. He gripped it and squeezed it like he was playing with a fat lump of red, wet putty.
Betty knelt on the floor, sobbing.
Echo moved in front of her. She turned, presenting her backside to the youngster.
She pulled up her skirt, and pulled down her panties.
She had a rounded, heart-shaped ass, a pair of white shining globes split down the center by a deep crack.
Something jagged and unsightly marred the smooth loveliness of Echo's bottom.
Betty's confused eyes focused and narrowed as she tried to see what it was.
She gasped with horror when she realized that the letter "B" had been branded into the flesh of Echo's hip.
"Like it?" Echo chuckled. She patted the girl's head. "Maybe you'll have one of your own some day, if you're lucky."
"In the meantime," Echo added, "you can kiss my ass!"
Reaching behind her, she pulled Betty's red, tear-stained face into her bottom.
She forced Betty to cover the soft, smooth white ass cheeks with kisses.
Jim sat on the bed, watching, playing with his cock.
"Lick it," Echo commanded.
Betty's pink pointed tongue glided out of her puffy parted lips. She tilted her head and laid the flat of her tongue on the rounded curve of Echo's ass.
Echo spread her feet shoulder-width apart. Betty could see the older woman's fleshy pussy lips beneath the white globes of her buttocks.
Betty licked the buttocks until they were covered with her saliva from the small of Echo's back to the tops of her thighs.
Echo put her hands on her wet, gleaming buttocks, and pried the cheeks apart.
Sheltered deep inside her crack was the puckered brown rosebud of her anus.
"Lick it inside, too," Echo said. She pulled Betty's face into the crack of her ass. Her buttocks pressed against the girl's cheeks. Betty stuck out her tongue.
The anus quivered when she licked it. Echo, holding the girl's braids, pulled the hair and shook Betty vigorously and told her to thrust her tongue in deep.
Fighting back her revulsion, Betty pushed her tongue beyond the tight anal ring, planting it deep in the rectum.
Echo shivered with pleasure. She moved one hand around to her front, and pressed it against her pussy. She sighed heavily.
She fondled her pussy while Betty tongued her bottom.
Echo's fingers, caressing her pussy, were soon covered with juices.
Her stiff-nippled breasts dangled as she leaned forward.
Her fingertips probed beneath her labia, pressed her throbbing clitoris, and massaged it in synchronization with the rhythms of Betty's thrusting tongue.
Echo rubbed faster and faster, until her hand was a blur of motion on her pussy.
She cried out as she climaxed.
She closed her thighs and squeezed them against her wet hand.
She pushed Betty away from her bottom. Echo leaned forward and hugged herself, her arm pressing against her heavy, sweat covered breasts.
Echo rested, savoring the blissful afterglow of her heavy orgasm.
But there would be no rest for Betty.
Jim summoned her. He had fondled his cock while he watched Echo and the younger girl. Now, his member was once more stiff and erect.
Betty brushed her tears away as she listlessly went to him.
Jim reached out, his broad hands covering her hips. He pulled her down to him.
He made her sit facing him. He spread her long thin legs, pulling them on either side of his waist. Her pussy hovered over his cock.
Gripping his cock, he held it vertically upright.
He forced Betty to sit on it. For an instant, she thought he was going to stick it in her virgin ass, and the idea nearly made her faint.
But Jim's target was her pussy. The knobbed head of his cock parted her delicate pussy lips, splitting them and spreading them.
His cock fit tightly in her pussy. He pulled her down, like he was screwing her on to his cock.
The force of gravity, the weight of her own body, forced her to take his cock as deep as it could go inside her.
Jim gasped with pleasure. He held her by the upper arms and tilted her upper body backward, away from him.
This pressed her thin pussy lips even tighter against the base of his shaft.
He told her to lock her legs around his back, so she wouldn't fall off.
She crossed her ankles around his back, and rested her hands on his shoulders.
Jim rocked her back and forth, like a hobbyhorse, fucking her.
He moved his head down, and took little glancing bites at her breasts.
When he was about to come, he fastened his teeth down on a pink nipple and sharply bit into it. Betty's shriek triggered his ejaculation.
After he had recovered, he eased the girl off his lap. He and Echo got dressed and exited the room, locking Betty inside.
When she was sure that they were gone, she got up and checked the door to see if there was any way for her to escape this windowless room.
There wasn't.
Later, when Randi returned, she brought a basin of warm water along with the food on the tray. She made Betty clean herself out.
Betty was glad to wash the semen out of her pussy. She pushed the wet cloth inside her and scrubbed the membranes until they were sore and tingling.
Randi remained in the room until Betty had finished her meal.
Randi was gathering up the empty plastic dishes and utensils when Betty was forced to make an embarrassing request.
Where could she go to the bathroom?
Randi answered her by bending over, reaching under the cot, and pulling out a galvanized tin bucket. "There," she said, pointing at the bucket.
It took Betty a long moment to realize that this bucket was the only sanitary facility available to her.
"No," she blushed, "no, I couldn't!"
"You can use that, or you can hold it in until you burst, for all I care," Randi said. "See you later, sweetie!"
She left Betty alone in the room.
Betty sat on her bed, staring at the bucket. She fidgeted anxiously, and squeezed her thighs tightly together.
At last, groaning with shame, she picked herself up and squatted over the bucket.
Her face reddened to a scarlet, shamed color as fluid splashed in the pan.
She was just getting up when the door opened. She froze.
Two men stood in the open door. One of them was the urbane Dr. Munsey.
The second man was a commanding, dynamic presence. He stood nearly a head taller than the doctor. His massive skull was clean shaven.
His eyes glittered like a snake's. He thoughtfully stroked his mustache as he studied Betty with a direct, unblinking gaze.
She remembered her modesty. She covered her nipples with her arm, and dropped her hand in front of her pussy.
The bald man laughed cynically. His laugh was blood chilling.
"Well?" Dr. Munsey asked eagerly. "What is your answer, Master?"
"Take her," the bald man said.
The door was closed and locked, leaving Betty completely in the dark as far as that mysterious interlude was concerned.
Her questions were answered all too soon.
Randi came for the girl at night. In this windowless room, there was no way to measure the passage of time, and Betty wouldn't have known what time it was if Randi hadn't told her that it was roughly nine in the evening.
Randi filled a hypodermic needle. Betty didn't want the injection, but Randi slapped her around until she saw reason.
The drug was injected into her veins. She felt distant, removed.
Betty was tired. Her bones felt like they were made of wax. She slumped down on the bed, her eyes glazing fast.
She stared up at the bare light bulb hanging on the ceiling.
She was still staring when the door opened. There was a squeaking sound as Dr. Munsey wheeled a stretcher into the room.
A vague sense of alarm rose up inside her, but it was muffled by the drug.
Echo, Randi, and Dr. Munsey lifted the girl and loaded her on the stretcher. Canvas restraints were buckled across her chest, pinning her arms to her sides.
Betty was wheeled out of the room and down the hall to a door.
Dr. Munsey and Randi leered down at her. They loaded her into the elevator. The doors shut, the car descended, then halted with a bump.
The doors opened. They wheeled the stretcher into the doctor's basement laboratory.
Betty was released from the stretcher, lifted on to the examining table, and put in bondage as she was prepared for her next intimate invasion.
CHAPTER THREE
There was something unusual about the outfit which Randi wore in the lab.
It took Betty a minute to realize what it was. Slowly the effects of the drug were starting to fade, but it would take time.
Randi's red hair was hidden by a green surgical cap. This accented the sharp bones and hard lines of her thin, pointed face.
Her front was covered by a black latex apron which reached from her shoulders to her knees. Black rubber stockings sheathed her long legs.
Dr. Munsey was similarly attired in medical garb.
He wore a surgeon's cap, a pale green rubber robe, and white shoes. From behind the thick lenses of his spectacles peered his wide, watery eyes.
Betty was aware of sounds. There was the steady hiss of an oxygen tank, the low regular chugging of pumps, and the gurgling of liquid in tubes.
Dr. Munsey pulled on a pair of pink rubber gloves.
He took them from a cellophane wrapped pack, and fit them on his sensitive surgeon's hands. The gloves, reaching to his wrists, were skin-tight.
The sight of them stirred up confused and unpleasant memories in Betty's mind. She knew that those were the sort of gloves her gynecologist put on prior to giving her a detailed and intimate personal examination.
Betty lay naked on the examining table. She lay partially on her side, with her legs pressed together. Her eyes were glazed and dull.
Randi stood over her, her face cold and unsympathetic.
Randi wore rubber gloves, too. She gripped Betty's smooth shoulders and turned the girl so that she lay on her back.
She moved down to the end of the table, took hold of Betty's ankles, and pulled them open wide, spreading them.
She moved Betty's arms to her sides. Canvas restraining straps dangled from the table's edges. Randi buckled one in place across Betty's chest.
She fastened the strap so that it ran over the tops of Betty's breasts.
Then she buckled a second strap, one which ran just under her breasts.
The straps held Betty to the table, and pinned her arms so she couldn't move them.
Randi straightened up when her task was done, a smirk on her face.
The black latex apron pressed tightly against her body.
Her firm, sharply pointed breasts thrust against the shimmering latex.
Betty's eyes, glazed and shining, tried to focus. A strange detail caught the attention of her beclouded mind.
The latex apron was held in place by a pair of shoulder straps. Yet those shoulder straps pressed against Randi's naked flesh, not a uniform.
Randi turned her back to Betty to make some adjustments on a console.
Betty stifled a gasp. From the waist up, Randi's back was naked. Her torso was long and lean and elegant, with flesh as smooth as marble.
Around her narrow waist was pinned a black rubber garter belt.
Its garters were fastened to the tops of the black rubber stockings.
Between the garter belt and the stocking tops, Randi was naked.
Her rounded buttocks were firm, smooth, unblemished, shining.
Dr. Munsey thought so, too.
He moved behind Randi and rested his rubber gloved hand on her bottom.
Automatically she spread her feet farther apart, opening herself to the doctor.
His hand fondled her backside, tracing out the curves of her buttocks.
He reached between her legs, his hand brushing the soft white flesh of her inner thighs which rose from the black stocking tops.
His fingers caressed her pussy lips. Randi placed her palms on top of the instrument board, licked her lips, tilted her head back, and savored the erotic thrills which the medical man's probing fingers were putting into her pussy.
After a moment, Dr. Munsey removed his hand from between her legs.
Juices gleamed wetly on the fingers of his rubber gloves.
He lifted his hand, held his fingers under his nose, and smiled as he inhaled the aroma of her sex. "A marvellous perfume, Nurse."
"Why, thank you, Doctor. But shouldn't we attend to the patient?"
"Indeed we should. Would you prepare her, please?"
"Certainly." There was a squeaking of rubber wheels on the tiled floor as she pushed the instrument tray closer to the table.
Light glinted on the shining, stainless steel equipment on the tray.
Betty's eyes narrowed. She recognized scalpels, forceps, scissors. There were other instruments with wickedly sharp points and razor edges.
"What ... what are you doing?" Residual effects from the drug made her speech slurred. She struggled against the straps. "Let me go!"
"It seems as though our little patient is awake, Doctor."
"Yes," Dr. Munseyagreed, "and she seems a bit disturbed, upset."
Betty screamed for help at the top of her lungs.
Dr. Munsey's broad, smooth forehead was creased by three horizontal wrinkles when he frowned. "Really, I can't concentrate with that kind of noise!"
Randi took a red rubber ball gag from the tray, and held it over Betty.
Betty immediately stopped screaming and clamped her jaws tightly shut.
Randi said, "First you won't shut your mouth, and now you won't open it! Really, dear, I wish that you would make up your mind!"
She pinched Betty's nostrils shut with her fingers.
Betty held her breath until her face turned purple. When she finally gasped for air, Randi jammed the gag in her mouth and buckled it on the girl.
The red rubber ball of the gag filled her mouth, stretching her pink lips. Her frantic pleading was reduced to muffled moans.
"Much, much better," Dr. Munsey said. "Now I can do some serious work!"
Randi tied Betty's ankles to the ends of the table, leaving the girl's legs spread and her pussy nakedly exposed and vulnerable.
With practiced efficiency, the rubber nurse moved around the table, fastening the sensors of life system monitors to the girl's flesh.
Using small strips of white adhesive tape, Randi fastened little monitoring devices to the nipples. These devices, which measured perspiration 'rate, heart beat, skin sensitivity, and other funtions, were small teardrop shaped plastic nodes with wires attached to the ends of them.
All the wires trailed into the major monitoring console, a square shaped instrument panel which stood to the side of the table.
Randi fastened the monitors on Betty's skull, neck, chest, and the insides of her elbows. As more of the wired monitors were taped down on the girl, Betty began to look like a helpless victim trapped in a spider web.
Dr. Munsey activated the main power on the console.
There was a low electronic hum. On the video display terminal, fluctuating green lines charted Betty's heartbeat and breathing rate.
Dr. Munsey stood over the terrified girl.
"I'm sure that you would like to know what we are up to," he said. "Let me congratulate you on taking part in a really important scientific experiment!"
"I have been engaged in investigating the sexual response rates of young females such as yourself, for some time now."
"As you have no doubt noticed, we are quite involved with young girls. At this place, spoiled, willful teenagers are transformed into willing and obedient slaves-slaves to the Master whom we all serve."
He and Randi reverently bowed their heads at the mention of the Master.
Dr. Munsey reached up. Mounted on an adjustable metal arm over the table was a strange device. He lowered it closer.
Mounted at the end of the metal arm, glistening with a fresh coat of grease, was a long, thick dildo.
This dildo looked amazingly life-like. It had a streamlined shape, a bullet head, and a shaft whose length and thickness were carefully designed.
Dr. Munsey was as enthusiastic as a child with a new toy.
"It can't have escaped the attention of even a youngster like you that this is an artificial phallus-a mechanical penis."
"But this is no mere dildo! Oh, no! This is the product of years of reasearch."
He explained in some detail how the flesh-like covering which sheathed the dildo was constructed to be as close in shape and texture to real flesh as possible.
This was only the beginning. Although the exterior of the dildo was smooth and clear, below its outer shell it was hollow.
The interior of the shaft was loaded with a variety of acutely sensitive monitoring devices. Information from those devices would be fed directly into the console, and permanently recorded.
As the Doctor spoke, Randi opened a jar filled with a dull white paste.
She dipped her fingers into the paste, then smeared the stuff on Betty's pussy lips. Betty squirmed and moaned as the nurse's fingers massaged the paste into her.
When the teen's labia shone with the paste, Randi spread the thin lips and smeared some of the paste on the internal membranes.
Dr. Munsey concluded, "So-as this mechanical penis makes love to you, all the information about your vital signs will go directly into the console!"
His eyes glinted. "Some day, this information will enable me to develop a new theory of sexuality and human response!"
He flicked the switch on the metal arm which held the dildo.
The dildo began to vibrate. Munsey moved the arm so that it was positioned over Betty's legs, with the dildo pointing at her pussy.
Canvas restraining straps, and the bindings which kept her feet spread, prevented her from squirming away when the dildo head touched her pussy.
Its tingling vibrations made her labia quiver. Betty's eyes widened so that whites surrounded the blue irises.
She was alarmed at the incredible sensations of arousal which seethed through her pussy. The vibrating dildo was affecting her like nothing ever had.
Dr. Munsey guided the mechanical arm between her leg, then locked it into position. A second switch activated the dildo itself.
Springs mounted in the mechanical arm caused the dildo to slowly push forward.
Betty's pussy lips were split and spread by the thick shaft.
The sensing devices mounted inside the dildo controlled its rate of entry.
Since they could measure the rate of lubrication of her pussy membranes, and the degree of arousal in her flesh, they custom-tailored the motion of the dildo to produce the maximum arousal in the girl.
Betty had thought that the many drugs forced on her since her captivity began were powerful. But no drug could come close to the excitement that this mechanized system of erotic arousal was giving her.
Sweat broke out on her face as the dildo pushed deeper.
It entered her, filling her to the point where another fraction of an inch more of the shaft would have hurt her-and stopped short of it.
The dildo began to thrust back and forth, in and out.
The flesh-like membrane of the dildo was warm and sleek, and felt like velvet as it rubbed the lubricated membranes of her pussy with sensual friction.
Betty's heartbeat and breathing rate speeded up.
On the video screen, the green lines which showed her vital signs depicted the increase in her arousal.
The steady pings which counted out her heartbeat came faster and faster.
Betty felt sensitized in every part of her body, as though her flesh was one large erogenous zone.
Since her captivity, she had been penetrated many times, raped, and forced to serve. Although she had gotten somewhat used to the abuses-deadened was a more accurate description-she had never felt erotic pleasure.
This was different. Never in her young life had she been as sexually aroused and excited as she was now.
Not only did the constant, non-stop thrusting of the dildo thrill her, but the steady vibration which came from the shaft sent pulsing waves of pleasure rippling through her pussy.
Secretions of arousal oozed from the pores of her membranes, mingling with the lubricating paste which Randi had massaged into her pussy.
Betty's nipples were stiffly erect now. The tiny pink points throbbed steadily.
The surging dildo sent waves of pleasure through her.
Heat rose from her membranes. It fanned out, spreading through her pussy until the inside of it felt as steamy and humid as a tropical jungle.
Betty felt the outlines of her pussy blurring in a mass of pleasure.
Unconsciously at first, she moved her hips in response to the thrusting dildo. Sensing this, the dildo altered its thrust rate to match hers.
The pings which sounded out her heart rate came faster and faster.
Betty moaned. Her eyes rolled in her head. She squeezed them closed, arid concentrated on rocking her hips back and forth in response to the dildo.
"Feels real good, eh?" Randi grinned wickedly. "I've never met a girl yet who hasn't gone out of her mind for Lover Boy here."
Lover Boy was her pet name for the mechanical dildo.
Randi said, "Sure, sometimes when I'm horny and need a thrill, I climb up on the table and let Lover Boy take me for a wild ride!"
The gag muffled Betty's ecstatic groans as she orgasmed.
The dildo did not stop. It kept up its steady rhythms of pleasure.
Betty didn't know how much more of this she could stand.
It was too much pleasure-too intense!
The pings sounded in an almost non-stop succession.
Randi said, "That's the one drawback with Lover Boy-he's too good! There's been more than one slave girl who rode him until her heart stopped."
Betty wasn't hearing Randi's words. If she had to die, then she might as well die now die from sheer, heart-bursting ecstasy.
Her mind closed down and she was just a naked female animal, writhing on the table, grunting, straining against the restraint straps.
Randi murmured, "Our little patient's body is showing clear signs of stress and danger, Doctor. I don't know how much more of this she can take."
Dr. Munsey shrugged. "Well, we can always get another experimental subject-this house is full of them. Continue the program."
He chuckled. "Just like any other religion, the religion of science must have its martyrs, too. And slave girls are a dime a dozen."
Betty was out of this world.
Her entire being was concentrated in her pussy. The dildo was a pleasure dynamo, generating currents of pleasure which ripped through her.
She was dimly aware of Randi holding her head still and taking out the gag.
She gasped for breath. No matter how hard she breathed, she couldn't get enough air. The edges of her vision blurred.
Just when she thought it was the finish, the overpowering pleasure waves in her pussy suddenly halted.
The dildo glided across her membranes as it retracted.
Its bullet shaped head pushed out her pussy lips as it popped free of them.
Betty continued to twitch and, jerk spasmodically on the table, like she was having some kind of convulsive fit.
Why had the dildo stopped?
When her breath-and her sanity-were somewhat recovered, she heard the answer to that question.
Dr. Munsey was arguing with someone. "I don't understand! The Master himself specifically gave me this girl to experiment on!"
"That's been changed, Doctor." It was Echo who spoke. "It's been changed."
"But why?!"
"Because the Master just discovered who the girl is."
"Who is she, then?" Dr. Munsey was waspish, upset.
Echo wore a black leather gown with a plunging V-neckline. The spiked stiletto heels of her black boots added inches to her height.
Looped around her right wrist was the leather thong from the knobbed handle of the cat-o'-nine-tails she carried.
She handed the doctor a daily newspaper. "Look!"
On the front page, near the bottom, was a blurry black and white photo of Betty, a picture which had been taken a while ago.
Next to the picture was the headline: "HUNT FOR MISSING MINISTER'S DAUGHTER".
Dr. Munsey scowled. "So she's a minister's daughter-so what?"
Echo said, "It amuses the Master to have as his slave the daughter of a man of God. He wishes to keep her for his pleasure, and add her to his harem."
"But the experiment-surely that's more important than-"
"You have heard the Master's command," Echo said sharply. "Do you dare to defy him?" Her eyes narrowed. "Do you dare?"
"As always, I bow to the Master's wishes," Dr. Munsey said stiffly.
"I thought you would. When the girl has recovered, clean her up-and out. Then bring her to the Black Chapel."
Echo added, "You and your nurse will be required to attend. That is all."
Her boot heels clicked sharply on the tiled floor as she exited the room.
When she was gone, Randi spat, "That fucking bitch! I'd like to fix her wagon!"
Dr. Munsey absently patted her bottom. "Don't be too upset, Nurse. Echo serves the Master, as we all do. She is only doing her job."
Randi shrugged. "Anyway, the ceremony in the Black Chapel should be amusing."
She landed a few sharp stinging slaps on Betty's face, to bring her around.
Betty groaned dully. She was drained, totally exhausted.
She felt like a shipwrecked sailor who had been tossed around by the sea for hours before finally being cast up on the shore of some island.
Her pussy continued to throb and pulse.
"Why did you stop the machine?" she whimpered. "Put it back on!"
"Yeah, a lot of us girls feel the same way about Lover Boy," Randi said. "If you're a good little slave girl, maybe they'll reward you by letting you have a session with Lover Boy soon. Would you like that, Betty?"
"God, yes!"
Randi moved across the room. "You relax, Doctor. I'll clean the girl out."
Betty slipped off into a kind of trance. Her body still tingled and glowed electrically with the blissful billowing feeling her multiple orgasms created.
She heard the sound of running water. She closed her eyes.
Time passed. Betty was aware of forms moving around her, and things being arranged, but she paid no attention to them.
There were metallic clicking sounds as the restraining straps were unbuckled. The bindings holding her legs spread apart were opened.
Rubber gloved hands pushed her shoulder. "Turn on your tummy, Betty."
Betty opened her blurred, glazed eyes and peered upward at Randi. "Huh?"
Randi repeated her command that Betty turn over. Betty asked why.
"So I can give you an enema," Randi said.
Betty now saw the red rubber bag which hung from a portable metal tree.
Randi helped roll her over. Betty's young body dripped with sweat. Thick smears of her moisture were beaded up on the rubber sheet.
Betty was forced to get on her knees. She felt like her body had turned to molten jelly.
Her upper body pressed the table, and her head was turned to the side.
She wondered why she was being given an enema at this time, but was too tired to inquire. Nobody ever answered her questions here, anyway.
Her pussy continued to throb. She shivered with delight.
Randi greased up the girl's bottom and the enema nozzle. She pried apart the girl's rounded ass cheeks and pressed the tip of the nozzle against the anus.
The nozzle was fat and long and thick. Betty made soft gasping sounds as its length pushed past her rosebud and lodged deep in her rectum.
Randi opened the valve. Warm soapy solution gurgled into the girl.
Within a half hour, Betty was bound to the altar of the Black Chapel.
Since her dad was a minister, Betty had been inside many churches and houses of worship-but never one as eerily bizarre as this.
This sinister room, on the top floor of the house, was dimly lit. The walls were hung with black velvet drapes.
The altar was a massive platform made of beams of ebony wood covered with padded black leather. Betty lay stretched across it, her hands tied, her mouth gagged.
After she had been cleaned out by the enema, Randi had given her another injection. Betty felt weak and will-less, a sleepwalker in a waking dream.
Somewhere organ music was playing. But it didn't play the old familiar hymns she knew from childhood. It played weird, gloomy, spooky music.
She was not alone. Also present in the Black Chapel were Echo, Clinton, Dr. Munsey, and Randi. The doctor and nurse had changed from their surgical garb.
The doctor still pouted at the loss of his latest experimental subject.
Echo, carrying a poker shaped metal rod, stirred up the hot coals in the bottom of an iron brazier, which was mounted on a metal tripod.
She buried the tip of the iron in the red-hot coals.
A side door opened, and the Master entered the chapel.
It was the bald man with the mustache. He wore a black robe.
All the others rose from their seats, got down on their knees, and pressed their foreheads to the floor as a sign of submission.
The Master permitted them to rise. His voice was like rumbling thunder.
"Tonight, we welcome a new disciple to our ranks," he began.
The other four in the room stood with their hands folded and their heads respectfully bowed. They hung on his every word.
The Master continued, "This girl is the daughter of a man of the cloth-a man of God. Thus, it is particularly appropriate that she should be my slave."
"This is a ritual, a sign of our devotion to our Lord below, who reigns in Hell. And what ritual is complete without a sacrifice?"
"In this case, we need not sacrifice a life. But something must be given to Satan, all-powerful emir of the Outer Darkness."
"Our Satanic king, unlike his weak, priggish opponent, delights in the corruption of innocence, and the celebration of lust."
"Happily, there is something which we may offer up to him".
"Apparently the girl was not a virgin prior to her capture," the Master said.
An evil smile played across his thin lips. "That merely demonstrates the power of our Satanic lord, since the girl knew sin even before she knew us."
"Had an examination shown her maidenhead to be intact, we would sacrifice it to our lord in Hell. However, this was not the case."
The Master continued. "Still, in these times. it is difficult to find a girl past the age of puberty whose hymen is still intact."
"There are other kinds of virginity."
"Our distinguished medical expert-" here the Master nodded in acknowledgement of Dr. Munsey "-our distinguished medical man, I say, has examined the girl. He assures me that our young miss is at least a partial virgin."
Dr. Munsey nodded gravely, agreeing that these were indeed the facts.
"There is a second maidenhead," the Master continued, "a second virginity which a female possesses. I refer, of course, to her ass."
"Dr. Munsey's examination indicates that this girl has never been penetrated anally-a gap in her experience which I, Adrian Baranco, will now remedy."
Baranco!
The name knifed through the mists of Betty's drug-clouded mind.
She remembered the case well. It had been a sensational story.
Adrian Baranco was a psychopathic genius whose bizarre sexual crimes had caused him to be confined in a state hospital for the criminally insane.
A year ago, Baranco had broken free, unleashing an orgy of rape and sexual abuse on his innocent female victims.
At one point, he trapped a trio of teenage girls in a boarding school which was deserted for the holidays.
He had made them suffer an orgy of rape, sexual abuse, strict bondage, painful discipline, enforced lesbianism, and other bizarre practices which were too lurid to be described in the daily newspapers.
This shocking case was documented in the illustrated case history entitled. "HOUSE OF SCREAMING VIRGINS".
The activities detailed in that book were not for the squeamish. In fact, the book could only be sold in better adult bookstores everywhere.
Eventually the girls escaped to tell their tale of rape and bondage horror to the authorities.
But Baranco escaped, too.
This, then, was what he had done since.
He had built himself up as a Satanic cult leader, and surrounded himself with a collection of similarly minded sexual perverts and criminals.
Baranco motioned to the others, summoning them to him. They clustered around the altar. Baranco stood on a platform which raised him higher than the rest.
"O mighty maharajah of unholy darkness," he intoned dramatically, "accept this offering of innocence on your altar of pain!"
The others chanted something in a foreign language which Betty didn't understand.
Baranco leaned over Betty. His eyes glittered like those of a snake.
"You understand, girl?" he said. "You belong to the Devil. Since I am his representative on earth, you therefore belong to me."
Betty nodded to show that she understood his words.
The gag in her mouth prevented her from verbally answering.
"Let us begin," Baranco said. "First--the scourging of the flesh!"
Echo took down some rods from the hooks on which they hung. The rods were close to three feet long, and were thin, whippy, and flexible.
She handed one to Baranco. The rod's handle was shaped like a dildo, and was covered with black leather. Baranco slashed it through the air.
Echo clutched another rod herself, holding it across her leather covered thighs.
At Baranco's command, Clinton, Dr. Munsey, and Randi stripped naked.
The white bodies stood out starkly against the black walls of the dimly lit chapel. The smell of incense drifted through the air.
Randi stretched herself face down across the altar.
She lay at right angles to Betty's body. Her upper body lay across Betty.
Dr. Munsey took a rod which Echo handed him. He looked odd, his state of nudity contrasting with the spectacles which he continued to wear.
His body was smooth and soft. His pubic bush was thin and straggly, but his limp penis was thick and startlingly long and his balls were massive.
The doctor's sexual experiments had paid off. He had used his knowledge to increase not only his sexual performance, but also his penis size.
Clinton approached from the other side of the altar. His normally sullen face was more sour than ever. He didn't relish the fact that he was to be whipped by Echo, especially not after the sharp words he had had with her some nights ago.
But Echo was closer to Baranco than he was, and had arranged this.
Clinton submissively stretched across Betty's lower body. Betty lay on the altar, and Randi and Clinton lay across her.
Randi and Clinton stood with their feet firmly planted on the floor as they bent forward from the waist.
As she lay there, Randi couldn't resist nuzzling Betty's small, naked breasts. Her sharp white teeth closed on a pink nipple and nibbled it.
Clinton's head was positioned directly over Betty's pussy. His hot breath rustled the soft silken hairs of her bush, and made her pussy lips quiver.
Baranco said, 'Begin."
A smile of wicked pleasure crossed Echo's face as she took up a stance behind Clinton. She spread her booted feet wide apart for stability.
Her black leather gown was slit up the sides to the tops of her thighs. Beneath the gown, she wore no panties or undergarments.
The gown was so low-cut that her breasts seemed in danger of flopping free of the black leather cups which lifted and supported them.
Clinton tensed himself for the punishing blows.
The rod whooshed through the air. There was a cutting sound as it lashed the flesh of Clinton's ass. He grunted as the blow fell.
Simultaneously, Dr. Munsey whipped Randi.
Clinton and Randi jerked, twitched, and trembled as the punishing strokes scourged their flesh. Soon they cried aloud from the pain.
Dr. Munsey was most excited. With each slash of his rod against Randi's curved buttocks, his penis twitched and spasmed in response.
After the first few strokes, his member stiffened and jerked upward in bobbing spasms, to become a rigid erection jutting from his hips.
Echo, too, was enjoying herself immensely.
Her heavy breasts lifted and arched whenever she raised her arm to deliver another punishing blow of the rod.
Clinton's twitching buttocks were criss-crossed with bright red lines.
Echo slipped her free hand into the side slit of her dress, and groped for her pussy. It was dripping wet. She buried her fingers in her sex.
As she whipped Clinton, she fingered and fondled herself.
She whipped him so roughly that ruby droplets of blood flew into the air when the rod landed on Clinton's scourged backside.
Randi and Clinton groaned, moaned, cried aloud.
"Enough," Baranco said at last.
The sound of heavy breathing, accompanied by gasping sobs, filled the chapel.
Eyes dulled with pain, Randi and Clinton climbed off the altar.
Clinton's cock was hard, a fact which embarrassed him. Echo contemptuously touched the end of his swollen shaft with the tip of her rod.
Her fingers still burrowed and writhed on her pussy. One of her breasts had popped free from the leather cup. The nipple was stiffly erect.
Baranco went to one end of the altar.-His powerful hands encircled Betty's slender ankles, which were not tied.
He pulled her. Her naked flesh glided caressingly over black leather as he dragged her closer to him.
The altar platform was at waist height, some three feet from the floor.
Baranco positioned Betty so that her bare feet touched down on the floor. For an instant they faced each other, the girl standing close to him.
He was at least a head and a half taller than she was. Never had Betty felt so much like a helpless child.
He wrapped his big hands around her waist and turned her around.
Now, her backside was presented to him.
He bent her forward from the waist, until her upper body touched down on the leather platform. Betty's stiff nipples squeaked against the leather.
Her hands were tied in front of her. She stretched them out and buried her face in them. Baranco moved her feet far apart.
Echo stripped off her leather gown. She now was completely naked, except for the high heeled black leather boots which covered her legs from the knees down.
Her nipples were throbbingly erect, and her pussy lips glistened with her own juices.
She carried a shallow copper bowl to Baranco.
The bowl was filled with an oily white lubricant. The jelly contained a special numbing compound developed by Dr. Munsey. which would help to ease Betty's pain to come.
Dr. Munsey put his hands on Betty's ass, his fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh. He pried her bottom cheeks apart, spreading them.
He exposed Betty's virgin rosebud. Her anus was a tender button of wrinkled brown flesh.
Echo dipped her fingers in the lubricant, then smeared it in the crack of Betty's ass. She stuffed a good deal of it inside the rosebud.
Baranco undid the silver clasp whtdl held his black robe closed.
Randi removed the robe from his body.
He was naked. Although his lined face clearly showed his age, his body was as strong and vigorous as that of a man twenty years younger.
His muscular chest was padded with hair. Biceps rippled on his strong arms.
Echo grasped his penis. Holding it in both hands, she massaged it with lubricant.
The cock jerked, stiffened, and grew into a massive erection.
The member glistened and gleamed with its oily coating.
"Accept the offering of this virgin sacrifice!" Baranco cried.
He gripped his cock, the top of his fist holding the member below the bullet shaped head, which was broad, fleshy, thick.
Dr. Munsey and Echo held Betty's ass cheeks spread apart. Randi put her hands on Betty's upper back and held her down.
Baranco guided his member between the rounded cupcake buttocks.
The tiny anus quivered and contracted when his cock head poked it.
Baranco leaned into the girl. The tip of his red cock was the wedge which slowly but inevitably forced the tiny anal opening to spread wider.
Betty groaned from deep in the pit of her stomach. Randi tightened her grip as she held her down. Veins throbbed in the girl's forehead.
The numbing agent in the lubricant made Betty feel all chilled in her rectum.
Baranco sweated as he forced his cock head past the anal ring.
Betty shrieked as the cock head pushed its way past her sphincter.
Her eyes bulged. Beneath the covering of her smooth soft skin, her muscles stood out. Her nostrils widened as she gasped for breath.
After the initial struggle to push the cock head past her anal ring, and lodge it deep in her, the rest was easy going-for Baranco. that is.
Betty suffered. Not only did she feel as though the long hard cock was splitting her down the middle, but her brain whirled from the total degradation and humiliation of having her ass fucked like it was a pussy.
Baranco's blue-veined red shaft slowly disappeared from view as it sank into her rectum. He gasped from the supreme pleasure his cock experienced as it was tightly gripped by the unwilling girl's hot, creamy rectum.
He was too big in the groin for the full length of his member to fit inside the girl, but he planted most of his shaft in her.
Gripping her soft-fleshed hips so tightly that the skin bruised where his fingers touched, he began to thrust in and out, fucking Betty's ass.
Betty's shoulders shook with constant sobbing. Fat tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her face, spattering on the black leather altar.
Randi caught one of the tears on her finger and tasted it. The tears of a virgin were the sweetest tears of all. She smacked her lips.
Baranco rocked his hips back and forth, thrusting: his member.
His muscled chest expanded as he filled his lungs with air.
Suddenly, he stopped thrusting. His cock was buried deep inside her.
He groaned as thick semen gushed from his cock head.
Betty knew ultimate shame as his spurting cock filled her vitals. His cock twitched inside her like a severed nerve as it spat semen from its red head.
Baranco kept his cock inside her long after lie stopped coining.
Finally, shivering with pleasure, he pulled out of her.
Ironically, her anus clutched his member tightly, as though it was reluctant to allow the destroyer of its virginity to escape.
There was a liquid popping sound as the cock head worked free from the rectum. After a moment, semen trickled from Betty's violated bottom.
Baranco smeared some of his come on his finger, then rubbed it on Betty's forehead.
"I baptize thee-slave." he said. "Slave to Baranco!"
There was still a final ceremony to perform. Echo went to the iron tripod. Gripping the wood handle of the poker, she pulled it out of the brazier of hot coals.
It was a branding iron. At its tip was the letter. "B"-the same B which Betty had seen branded into Echo's flesh.
Betty's terror was so great that Clinton, Randi, and Dr. Munsey had to hold her down.
Baranco took the branding iron. The metal B glowed a dull orange red.
Betty felt its heat on her flesh long before it touched her.
Baranco pressed the branding iron on Betty's left hip, slightly to one side of her bottom cheek. There was a hissing sound.
When he pulled the iron back, a still-smoking B was branded into Betty's flesh.
Betty fainted dead away.
When she awoke, she would be imprisoned in Baranco's private harem, along with the other captive teen beauties who were his slaves.
She. too, would be his slave.
There was no escape.
* * *
RAPE ORGY
CHAPTER ONE
The rattling of her cell door woke Katherine.
The beautiful girl was chained naked to the slimy dungeon wall.
The cell was small. When she had lived in her family's ancestral home, Katherine had closets for her clothes which were bigger than her present prison.
But that part of her life no longer existed.
Not since her family had been denounced to the Inquisition as heretics and witches. Now, she was a prisoner of a mad monk.
Not even her ordeal could damage her beauty, however.
Her hair was a rich, ripe, chestunut brown, thick and shimmering.
Her almond shaped eyes were a darker brown. Her face was wide and handsome, with delicate bones, a thin aristocratic nose, and full, sensual lips.
But her captivity had left her bedraggled and ravished.
Her hair was tangled and matted and hung in streamers down her back. Her eyes were dull and glazed with pain and the suffering she had seen.
Her flawless complexion was greasy and oily from the grime which covered it-that dungeon dirt and filth which her captors refused to let her wash off.
A dark purple bruise on her right cheek marked the spot where the mad monk, Dominus Viris, Witchhunter of the Inquistion, had struck her.
She wished-too late-that she had never haughtily refused his sexual advances.
Now, she was in no position to refuse anything-anything.
Her life and body were no longer her own.
They belonged to the Inquisition.
Katherine was in her middle teens. She was tall and willowy, with firm, pear shaped breasts, rounded hips, a ripe bottom, and long legs.
Although most of the peasants in the province had dark, olive complexions, Katherine's aristocratic family were all very fair and pale.
Her skin was a rich cream color. Its loveliness was marred by the barely healed marks of whips, by scratches, braises, cuts, and bites.
Her nipples were dark brown. The rosettes surrounding them were as wide in diameter as a gold coin. Her pussy lips were the same shade of pinkish brown.
Katherine breathed a prayer to heaven. So far, despite the horrors inflicted on her, the hooded torturers had not touched her female sex.
She was a virgin.
It had been no easy task for her to keep her maidenhead, not in the libertine and corrupt world of courtly aristocrats she had lived in.
Her family had always been prone to the sins of her flesh.
Even her own mother was an adulteress. Many times Katherine had prayed for the Lord to forgive her family for their carnal sins.
She, herself, was immune to the taint of fleshy pleasures.
Religion filled her life, gave it meaning. She tried to live in a way which would release her Heavenly Father, by being docile, obedient, and chaste.
Her chastity, and the refusal to yield it to Dominus, had brought her to this place. If only she had given herself to him!
The stone floor of her cell was covered with rank, moldy straw.
The straw was alive with slimy, crawling things-insects, spiders, even a centipede or two. Her heart would beat in furious fright when she felt something crawling on her naked flesh.
Close to her was an old wooden bucket. This provided the only sanitary facility in the cell. Katherine counted herself lucky to have it.
It was nearly filled to the brim with waste. Her captors had not emptied it for days. Not that she knew whether it was day or night.
Here, in the dungeons of the Inquisition, day and night ceased to exist.
The hours were only measured off by sessions of torture.
So far, she had gotten off easily in that respect. She had only been forced to endure a few whippings, and similar, minor punishments.
She sat with her back pressed against the cold stones of the cell wall.
Her bottom rested in the straw, and her long legs stretched out in front of her. The straw was sharp, and pieces of it constantly poked and prodded her pussy and her ass. Sometimes things crawled out of the straw and on her.
Cold iron cuffs manacled her wrists. Her arms were raised halfway over her head. Chains, attached to the cuffs, were bolted to iron rings in the wall above her.
The chains prevented her from lowering her arms. A steady aching soreness throbbed in her shoulder joints, and her hands often went numb from lack of circulation.
The cell was dim. It had seemed pitch black when she had first been cast into it. But since that time, her eyes had accustomed to the constant dimness. The only light came from torches in the corridor outside the cell.
That unsteady flickering light leaked in through the slitted gaps where the stout cell door was set unevenly in its frame.
And now, that door was opening.
Katherine had drifted off into a pain-dulled half-sleep, but when she heard the metallic rattle of a key in the lock, she immediately awakened.
Her lush breasts trembled from the shivering which wracked her body.
Up to now, she had escaped the fierce tortures of the dungeon-the hideous devices which could rend and rip and maim the flesh of screaming victims.
Her stomach knotted into a tight ball of fear.
The door creaked on its rusty hinges as it was pushed open.
The sudden light from the corridor dazzled her eyes. Katherine squeezed them shut.
When she opened them, she saw a hulking figure outlined in the doorframe.
"Good evening, my lady," a mocking male voice said. "How be you?"
The man entered the cell. He was a big man, over six feet tall, and heavily muscled. He wore a leather vest, a pair of skin-tight black breeches, and oversized boots. He was in his late thirties, with a shovel shaped face.
This was Malachi, the trusted lieutenant of the mad monk, Dominus.
Torchlight from the corridor filled the cell with a lurid red glare.
Malachi came to her. Katherine shivered again as chills raced up and down her spine. She crossed her ankles and closed her legs.
Malachi said, "Quiet, my lady? I daresay that you'll sing for us most sweetly before this night is over, my little songbird."
He wrapped his hand in her hair and jerked her head up.
"That's better," he chuckled. "I like for a lady to look at me when I speak."
Katherine glared at him defiantly.
"What a pretty little face," Malachi mocked. "A face made for kisses, not screams. But you shall surely scream this night."
"Why?" Katherine had not spoken for hours. Her voice sounded like a harsh croak in her ears. "What horrors have you planned for me tonight, monster?"
"It is not I who makes the plans, but the Witch-hunter."
"You know that I be no more witch than you, Malachi!"
"I know only what my lord and master Dominus tells me. If he in his wisdom calls you witch, I would surely be unwise to disagree."
"What will you do with me, then?"
"Dominus summons you."
"Why?" Her voice quavered with fear.
"So that you might be put to the Question."
Katherine groaned with mortal terror.
The Question was the series of body and mindbreaking tortures which suspected witches were forced to suffer.
The witches would either confess, and be burned at the stake, or die screaming in the torture chamber. Either way, the Question would be answered.
Malachi laughed. "Ah, that took you clown a peg or two from your high horse, he, my lady? Not even your power and position can protect you now."
Then he added, "But perhaps I can."
"What do you mean?" Hope rose inside her for an instant.
Malachi said dreamily, "You are wise to fear the Question. If you had seen the poor wretches, male and female, screaming their lives away as their bodies are broken, you would fear it even more."
"But there is an end to pain. For a certain consideration, I could administer a potion to you, one which would cause you to die a painless death."
"You mean-poison?!" she gasped.
"What else? Surely a wise young lady like you knows that there is no escape from these dungeons. The only escape is a quick and easy death to cheat the torturers of their sport. But a quick death is the greatest mercy here."
"To kill oneself is a mortal sin," Katherine said seriously.
"Ah, there you have the better of me, my lady. I am a simple fellow, and know little of such matters."
He grinned wolfishly. His thick oily fingers with their broken nails traced the outline of her face, caressed her swan-like neck, fondled her shoulder.
He said, "It would be sin indeed for this lovely body to be broken on the rack, the boot, the board, or, worst of all, the Iron Virgin."
"Not the Iron Virgin!"
"Didn't you know? Dominus has installed such a device in the dungeon. It is only one of a variety of devices designed to break body and soul."
"But I can spare you all that, my pretty," he added slyly.
"You spoke of supplying the poison for a certain ... consideration," Katherine said. "What consideration do you refer to, sir?"
Malachi knelt down in the straw next to her. "You are very beautiful, my lady."
He put his hand on her bosom.
Katherine shuddered with revulsion, but she could afford to risk the wrath of Malachi. From what she knew of the tortures of the Inquisition, death by poison was to be preferred to them.
Malachi's broad peasant face was swollen and leering.
He patted Katherine's naked breasts, squeezing and fondling them.
He cupped her breasts in his palms. The soft mounds of white flesh were softer than satin, and smooth as silk.
He touched her, exploring the contours of her breasts.
Firelight from the corridor threw red highlights on the curves of Katherine's body. The scene was so hellish that she could well imagine that she had died and been condemned to the eternal tires below.
Malachi gripped her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, studying it. He rolled the point of brown flesh between his oily fingers.
Katherine was shocked and shamed when her nipple stiffened.
"You surprise me, my lady," Malachi said.
"You forget one thing," she said. "Dominus knows that I am a virgin. He himself examined me to ascertain whether my maidenhead was intact."
"What of it?"
Katherine, flustered, blushed. "How, then, can I provide that special ... consideration which you require as your price for the poison? If I give myself to you, Dominus will surely know-then, both of us will die a horrible death."
Malachi grinned. "There's ways of doing it to keep him from knowing-and keep you a virgin-technically, at least."
"Now you leave me totally bewildered, Malachi."
His hand drifted down her torso. It rested on her soft inner thigh like some huge spider. His fingers drummed softly on her flesh.
"I would not expect a lady of your celebrated modesty to know whereof I speak, Katherine." He caressed her thighs, the back of his hand touching her pussy.
Leaning close, he brushed back her hair and whispered into her ear what he wanted her to do to and for him.
As she heard the details of his infamous proposition, Katherine's dark eyes widened until they bulged and stated in shock.
"Never!" she gasped. "Malachi, I couldn't!"
Malachi shrugged. "Twill seem a small matter indeed, when that pretty body is pulled apart on the rack-or burned alive at the stake."
Katherine wept. Once she had seen a witch burning. The accused witch had screamed for a long time as fire seared the flesh of her body.
Katherine realized that that poor soul had been no more guilty of witchcraft than she was-and she was innocent.
The knowledge that she would be given a quick and painless death would supply her with the strength she needed.
She whispered, "What proof have I that you will hold to your bargain?"
"In all honesty, lady, none," Malachi confessed. "You must trust me, and rely on the hope that I will feel tenderly toward you and spare you from agony."
"Well," he demanded, "time passes swiftly, and delay is fatal. What is your decision, my dear lady Katherine?"
"Beast!" she sobbed bitterly. "You know I must accept your terms!"
"Such was my hope. Then you do accept?"
Unable to speak the words, Katherine nodded her head, signifying yes.
Malachi rose and hurried to the cell door, which was flung wide open.
The dungeon cell darkened as he eased the door shut until it was only open a crack. He trod the straw underfoot as he returned to her.
Standing over her, he inserted a key in the locks of her cuffs. .
They clicked open. Katherine's freed arms dropped heavily to her sides.
Her muscles were sore, aching. They throbbed with renewed fury from the motion. She couldn't help but groan and gasp from the shooting pains.
"Beast that you are, I thank you. Malachi," she said at last.
"I would have freed you from those chains in any case, my lady, since my lord and master Dominus has summoned you. Besides, I'll have your thanks in another way."
"I have never done anything like this," Katherine said.
"Your modesty is as celebrated as your beauty." Malachi bowed mockingly. "However, you will find the act to be the soul of simplicity. Even the lowliest peasant girl can do it with the greatest of ease."
Malachi gripped the waist of his breeches.
Even in the dimness of the cell, Katherine could see his bulging groin.
Malachi's breeches were so tight that he virtually had to peel them from his hips. He pulled them down to his knees, where they formed a roll of fabric.
His genitals tumbled free. Katherine gasped and looked away.
Malachi fondled himself. He was most well equipped and abundantly endowed.
His penis, long and thick, hung down from his hips like a fat-headed white serpent. His balls were swollen in the sac, hard and firm.
"Your modesty will do you no good now, my lady."
Katherine slumped against the wall, the slimy stones wet and slippery against her.
Malachi leaned over, hooked his hands under her arms, and forced her into a kneeling position. Her head was on a level with his groin.
He gripped the strands of her hair, hair so long that it fell past the middle of her back, and wrapped it around his hand.
He tugged her hair by the roots. Katherine, startled, opened her eyes.
She saw his long thick cock, now fully erect, jutting in her face.
Grinning hugely, Malachi gripped his member and rubbed it against her face.
The cock head was broad and fleshy. It throbbed as it glided over her soft, down-covered cheeks and moved toward her mouth.
"Kiss it," Malachi said.
Shivering with shame and fear, Katherine puckered her red lips.
"I want no half-hearted job," Malachi warned. "A bargain is a bargain. If you want the poison which brings the sleep of death, then please me you must."
"You'll find that my member is considerably more pleasant to take than poison," he added, pulling her head closer to his groin.
The cock head rubbed her lips. Katherine planted a kiss on it. There was a wet smacking sound. Her face heated from shame-filled blushes.
"Kiss it all over," he whispered. "Kiss it and lick it."
He moved his cock so she could plant wet kisses on the underside of the shaft.
Fat throbbing veins wound around the stiff rod of his shaft.
Malachi groaned with delight as the beauty kissed his swollen balls.
"Take it in your mouth," he said. "Suck it."
Katherine opened her red lips wide to accept his member.
Malachi guided his cock head into her mouth. It was broad, hot, fleshy.
The knobbed head lay on her tongue. Malachi moved it so that it rubbed the sleek, slippery roof of her mouth.
He put his broad hands with their rough palms on her cheeks, holding her head in place. He pushed his hips forward, plunging his member deeper.
Katherine was shocked and shamed. She knew that such depraved sexual practices as the one she now performed in were thought of as a standard trick of seduction by the corrupt and wanton beauties of the aristocracy.
Despite her chaste ways, she was not totally naive, and had heard the temptresses of the court in their private conversations endorse taking their adulterous male lovers by mouth, as a sure-fire guarantee of pleasure without the Fear of pregnancy.
But she had no fear of pregnancy. In opposition to her decadent family, she had believed that sexual love was only to be performed for the purpose of creating new life in the world, for creating new souls to sing the glories of God.
Jealously she had guarded her virginity, steadfastly resisting the multiple temptations of the court, saving herself for her future husband, whoever he might be. Now, all that saving had brought her only to a squalid dungeon cell, where she sucked the stiff penis of a brute that she would not have condescended to notice before she was made a captive.
In a hoarse, rasping voice, Malachi instructed her how to suck him.
He went into obscene detail. He told her how to rub her tongue against the underside of his cock, exciting him.
He demanded that she rub her tongue tip into the tiny head at the tip of his cock. Then he would push his stiff penis deep into the back of her throat.
As his excitement grew, his voice grew more rasping and breathless.
Katherine's cheeks hollowed as she sucked him.
Sometimes, in his arousal, he would forget himself and push his cock so deep into her that its head blocked the back of her throat.
She would nearly gag before he pulled back a few inches.
His naked buttocks were tightly clenched as he thrust back and forth, in and out of her mouth, fucking it like it was a pussy.
Saliva drooled from the corners of her stretched mouth, wetting her chin.
After a while, all she had to do was keep her mouth open. Malachi rocked back and forth, thrusting in and out, doing all the rest.
Each time his shaft glided over her wet puckered lips, the member seemed harder and more rigid. Finally, it felt like a bar of hot iron.
Through clenched teeth, his face screwed up into an ecstatic expression, Malachi commanded Katherine not to pull away when he came inside her throat.
She was too frightened to disobey him. He was like some kind of wild animal in rut, and she feared what he might do if she cheated him at the last by pulling away.
Fat drops of sweat rolled off his chest and spattered on her face.
Suddenly he stopped, gripped her head tightly, and thrust deep.
Tremors rippling through his body caused his cock to quiver.
Malachi orgasmed.
Semen splashed against the soft tissues at the back of Katherine's throat.
Her stomach heaved with revulsion, as she fought the urge to vomit.
Malachi grunted and groaned. His come spurted in thick gushes.
It was thick and warm. It gushed into her mouth like blood from an open wound.
Her throat muscles flexed and rippled as she gulped down his semen. She swallowed quickly, trying to keep any of it from lingering in her mouth, on her tongue.
It did, of course. It tasted flat and oily, with a salty bitterness.
The aristocrat in her wondered absurdly if the seed of lords and dukes tasted different from that of the peasantry to which Malachi belonged.
He squeezed his eyes shut, tilted his head back, shivered.
After a moment, the convulsive twitching of his cock had died down to a slow spasmodic quivering which came infrequently.
He squeezed his cock, milking the last drops of come into her mouth.
She thought he would never take his cock out of her. Finally, his claw-like hands relaxed their numbing grip on her face, releasing her.
His cock was still stiff when he pulled it past her lips. It was oiled with semen and saliva. Strands of semen fell on her chin.
"You kept your part of the bargain." he grunted. "God, that was good!"
"Are you quite finished with me?" Her voice was faint and weak.
Malachi nodded yes. Katherine crawled on her hands and knees through the straw to the bucket. Her stomach heaved and she retched violently.
When she was done, Malachi said gruffly, "Dominus the Inquisitor awaits you, my lady."
CHAPTER TWO
Isabella was a peasant girl-a beautiful girl.
Her beauty was her undoing. In the small village of serfs from which she came, her good looks had attracted much favorable attention.
A small troupe of Dominus the Inquisitor's soldiers passed through her village. A lieutenant caught a glimpse of the raven-haired teenage beauty.
The lieutenant described her to Adolfo, assistant to Dominus.
In short order, Isabella's family was accused of heresy, treason, and witchery.
All her male relatives were put to death by the sword. A dead man can never avenge the dishonor and violation of beloved sister or daughter.
Isabella was tortured by Adolfo. After he had broken her, he turned her over to his men. The rank and file always appreciated a fresh maiden.
Isabella now hung from chains suspended from the ceiling.
She hung with her back facing the cold stone floor.
Five stout chains hung from hooks from rafters on the ceiling. Attached to each chain at one end was a leather sling.
Each of her four limbs had a sling manacled around it. Her long legs were spread wide open, the cuffs on her ankles preventing her from closing them.
Her arms were similarly spread and suspended. The widest sling was positioned under her back, so that it held her and kept her from sagging in the middle.
Kharg and Dario amused themselves with her.
They were torturers.
Both wore the hooded masks which were the symbol of their trade.
Kharg, in his late forties, was a beefy, bullish individual.
His barrel chest and powerful arms and shoulders were covered with bristling reddish brown hair, like the bristles of a boar.
His hood covered his head completely. It was made of thin black cloth with eye slits and a wide opening for his thick lipped mouth.
Good living had been his lot here at the castle dungeons, and his belly was swollen from much fine food and good wine.
His penis was swollen, now, swollen into a thick erection.
His upper body was bare-except for the hood-and his skin-tight black breeches hung down around his thick booted ankles.
Dario was younger, thinner, lighter. He wore the black hood, too. His torso was lean, with ribs showing beneath the flesh.
Both Dario and Kharg had flesh as white and pale and cool as a salamander's belly, a result of all the time they spent away from the sun in the dungeons.
Earlier today, they had worked busily at their trade, breaking bones, whipping and burning the soft flesh of their victims.
The supposed purposes of their atrocities was to extract confessions.
Generally, the confessions were meaningless, since a victim would confess any crime to escape their metal-tipped whips and red-hot irons.
Still, it had been a dissatisfying day.
They were forced to torture an old crone who had been curing the peasants of their ills with herbal potions.
She had been accused of witchcraft, and condemned to be put to the Question.
The old fool was stubborn. Had she merely made her mark on the confession--she could not write-she would have received nominal torture and a merciful strangulation before being burned at the stake.
She would have gotten off lightly, since her withered body with its pendulous breasts and dried-up sex was not the kind of body which the torturers liked to punish.
But the old fool wouldn't sign. She died screaming, but the confession wasn't signed. Kharg made his mark in her place, satisfying the formalities.
Now, Kharg and Dario were satisfying themselves.
Isabella was a strong, big-boned peasant girl. Had her life proceeded in its normal course, she would have had a few brief years of glory, and later grown fat and aged quickly as she bore children and gave a family to some peasant mate.
She was in the full flower of her beauty now.
Her breasts were over-sized, larger than the melons which grew to magnificent size in the rich soil of this province.
Her nipples were as fat as the first joint of a finger. The nipples were normally a bright shocking pink, but they now were red and raw and swollen.
Her hips were wide and full. Her pussy had once been luxuriously thick with an abundance of dark black hair.
But that pubic hair had long ago been singed off by candles. Now, her soft pussy lips were naked, unprotected, open to any assault or abuse.
Since her sessions of torture had peaked, she was now punished only for the amusement of the guards or the inquisitors.
Her spirit and will to resist were totally broken.
Soon, she would be taken from the dungeon and imprisoned in the castle slave pens. Here, she would serve as a pleasure whore, her body available to any soldier or stable hand or servant who so desired it.
This was the basic system of the dungeon:
When a beautiful captive was first imprisoned, she belonged to Dominus.
The chief Inquisitor always had his pick of fair young maidens. First they would writhe in his torture chambers.
Then, broken to submission, they would give their bodies to him..
When Dominus became bored with them, his associates and advisors would take their turn with the girl, using and abusing her as they pleased.
When they tired of the latest slave, and desired fresher flesh, the girl would be passed even lower on the chain of command, to the torturers.
Finally, the broken female would be recruited into whoredom and the slave pens. When her beauty had faded, she would be sold into slavery in a distant land.
It was a satisfactory arrangement which pleased everyone involved-except the helpless suffering victims.
They, of course, had no say in their fates. Since the Inquisition held the power of life and death over them, and since they had a taste of the hideous tortures of the dungeon, the poor captive beauties were glad to serve as whores.
Kharg and Dario had amused themselves with Isabella tonight.
Holding candles over her soft, bruised flesh, they let hot wax spatter on her breasts and belly and soft inner thighs.
They hadn't bothered to gag her. Screams in the dungeon were as commonplace as the sound of cows mooing would be on a farm.
No one here paid the slightest attention to any screaming.
Besides, they liked to listen to her shrieks they were so musical.
Red stripes, strung with beaded ruby droplets of dried blood, striped the poor girl's hips and thighs, marking where they whipped her.
These amusing bits of foreplay had put Dario and Kharg in a most aroused state.
Kharg put aside his punishing rod and pulled down his pants.
He stood between Isabella's chained legs, his stiff penis jutting in front of him.
His member was thick, uncircumcised. Fat warts with hairs sprouting from them dotted the base of his cock. His balls were thick, lumpy.
He gripped his member and slapped it down on Isabella's thigh.
The rod of red flesh made a meaty, smacking sound as it whacked her skin.
Gripping his stiff penis, he rubbed the underside against her flesh.
Dario stood at her head, behind her. She hung in the chains with her neck corded and her head tilted backward so that her face was upside down.
Down came Dario's breeches. Up sprang his stiffly erect cock.
His member was longer and thinner than Kharg's, and more attractively formed. He rubbed his cock head against Isabella's gasping face.
For her part, the girl was so glad not to be tortured, that being fucked by the pair of brutes was something in the nature of a rest for her.
Since Kharg's hood left his nose and chin uncovered, he didn't have to take the hood off in order to hawk up a gob of spit on his palm.
He smeared the spittle on Isabella's naked, hairless pussy.
He made sure to handle her roughly and abusively. His thick lips peeled back over crooked yellow teeth in a smile as he watched her squirm.
He prodded her pussy with his cock head.
Isabella moaned and thrashed in her chains. The metal links rattled softly, a jingling accompaniment to her gasps and moans.
The torturer's hands closed around her white hips, his fingers sinking into flesh.
Gripping his cock, he stuffed the swollen cock head between her labia.
Isabella cried out.
Kharg and Dario laughed.
Kharg clenched his plump spreading buttocks as he thrust into her, shoving his swollen cock deep inside her.
His wet smeared spit trickled down her pussy lips and spattered on the stones.
Her fleshy pussy lips were spread and split by his fat member as it penetrated.
Her pain-filled whimperings made his stiff cock throb excitedly.
The girl gasped through clenched teeth as the fat member forced its way into her. Veins stood out on her red, agonized face.
The rough warts on the base of his cock rubbed roughly and irritatingly against her pussy lips and her internal membranes.
Kharg's thrusting motions made the girl swing on the chains like a pendulum.
When Isabella opened her mouth wide to moan, Dario shoved his cock in.
It was most amusing to him, fucking the fir! in her open mouth as her head hung upside down. He reached across her chest.
Her breasts were lush jiggling mounds of white flesh with a pair of red swollen nipples and irritated rosettes on the summits of them.
Dario gripped her breasts, one in each hand. He squeezed them tightly, so the soft bosom flesh oozed between the spaces of his gripping fingers.
Her breasts served him as handles of flesh, to hold her tightly.
Kharg shoved in and out of the girl. His fat cock glistened with saliva and secretions whenever it emerged from the pussy.
He shoved into her with such vigorous force that drops of juices were sent flying from her pussy into the air.
Her hips rippled from the savagery of his sexual assault.
Dario came first. The torture session earlier had excited him greatly. It only took a few moments of fucking her mouth to make him climax.
Despite her sufferings, Isabella kept her puffy lips puckered against the oily shaft which thrust in and out of her mouth.
She knew that if she failed to suck him in a pleasing manner, her pains would be increased a hundredfold.
Dario thrust hard, but never pulled his fat cock head out of her mouth.
When he thrust into her mouth, his cock would glide over her rippling tongue and plunge deep into the back of her throat.
When he came, he stopped thrusting. He kept his cock planted deep.
His grip tightened brutally on her breasts as he ejaculated.
Semen pumped down her throat. Isabella sucked while his semen spurted, trying to gulp it all down. She succeeded in that task.
Behind the mask's hooded eye slits, Dario's eyes went glazed and out of focus.
Mumbling and muttering with pleasure, he gasped for breath as the last few drops of semen oozed from his cock head and spilled down her throat.
Kharg still thrust into the beauty. Sweat gleamed on his heaving chest.
He thrust deep. Isabella moaned. Since Dario's cock was deep in her mouth, her moaning vibrations rippled up his swollen shaft, giving him a thrill.
Kharg tossed his head like a wild bull and snorted as he came.
His semen gushed into her aching pussy, soaking into the irritated membranes.
Dario was just taking his cock out of the girl's mouth when the door opened.
He had locked the door, so whoever was unlocking it had a key.
The door swung open. Hearing it, Kharg lifted his weary head and turned to look over his shoulder at the newcomer, thinking it was a fellow torturer.
It was a woman.
She was beautiful, in a severe, harsh way.
She was in her middle twenties, but her self-assured, imperious bearing made her have the aura of authority of a woman much older.
She was tall and straight and slender. Her hair was darker than a squid's ink. It fell on her ivory shoulders like a mass of shadow.
A cloak with the hood tossed back covered her like a cape. Her perfect body with its high, firm, pointed breasts, wasp waist, wide hips and long legs, was sheathed in a jeweled and brocaded gown.
The gown was very low-cut. Her white breasts were plumped up, making them more abundant than they were. The bodice of the gown was cut so that it just barely covered her nipples.
The tops of her pink rosettes could be seen.
Her thick black brows were two arching black lines which rose over a pair of icily cold green eyes. Her face was picture perfect, but lacked the warmth of common humanity. A sinister smile played on her lips.
This, then, was Veronica, sister of Dominus.
She stood in the doorway, holding a ring of keys in her hands.
Veronica's tastes were even stranger and more perverse than her brother's. Her delight was to watch the torturers at work on a lovely female victim.
Before Kharg or Dario could react, Veronica spoke.
She said, "Do not trouble yourselves to bow to me, my servants. I prefer to see you right where you are, rather than on your knees."
"You are too kind, my lady," Kharg said.
He was used to Veronica's excesses. Dario, new to the ranks, was intimidated by her presence, and embarrassed to have his stiff member in the girl's mouth.
Reacting automatically, he pulled back. His stiff penis popped out of Isabella.
Surprised, Dario tried to cover his stiff, wet red member with his hands.
Veronica laughed. "Modesty is a virtue I never expected from my brother's accomplished torturers!"
"I only wish to spare your grace from the sight of my lowly self, mistress," Dario said. , His face was red where the mask didn't cover it.
"You must be new here," Veronica laughed.
"Aye, my lady, that he is," Kharg said, not in the least embarrassed to conduct a conversation while his member was planted deep in the pussy of a slave captive.
"Dario's a fine lad," Kharg said. "He's only been in your brother's service for a short time, but already he's become my main assistant."
"Indeed," Veronica said, interested. "What then is his claim to fame?"
Kharg laughed. "He's educated. Knows anatomy and the body."
"Educated, you say?"
"Aye. Dario was once a novice monk in a religious order. They failed to recognize his merit, and whipped him from the monastery."
Veronica asked, "Why did the monks expel you, Dario?"
"Sins of the flesh, my lady," Dario said.
"Ah ... some fine evening, Dario, you must come visit me and tell me all about your sins. I'm sure it would be a most interesting discussion."
Dario bowed his head. "You honor me, my lady."
"Unlike the pious monks, I am quick to recognize merit in my servants," Veronica said. She lowered her gaze and stared openly at his cock and balls.
She smiled. "Tis plain to see that you're a man of parts, Dario."
She turned to Kharg. "I did not mean to interrupt you at your leisure, Kharg. I search for Adolfo-my brother wishes to see him."
"Begging your pardon, my lady, but the lord Adolfo left this afternoon on a mission to Tuscany." It was always wise to apologize in advance of telling the aristocrats news which they might not wish to hear.
Happily, Veronica was not upset by Adolfo's absence.
"I will take my leave of you, my good fellows," Veronica said. "Try not to hurt the poor girl too much-save something of her, at least."
Veronica exited the torture chamber.
Dario, obviously pleased by his recognition by the cruel beauty, let his chest swell with pride. "Clearly my advancement is assured now!"
"Careful, lad," Kharg rumbled. "Tread with a light foot around the likes of her."
"I understand you not, Kharg."
Kharg said, "That pretty face of hers hides the soul of a viper."
"Would that she would take a bite out of me, then!"
"I've seen more than one lover of hers lose favor, and die screaming on the rack, the boot, or the scaffold."
"No," Kharg continued, "you'd be wise to take a leaf from my book, lad. Do your job and do it well, and don't get involved in the intrigues and affairs of our masters. That's the way to sure advancement."
"Ah, but Kharg, what a woman she is! So beautiful!"
"Best you stay with beauties such as these, Dario." Kharg patted Isabella's thigh, which was mottled with purple and brown bruises.
"Stay with the slave girls, and you'll never go wrong," Kharg cautioned. "A woman like Veronica could make a man lose his head literally."
In another section of the shadowed labyrinth of the dungeons, Veronica unlocked a stout wooden door, entered the room, and closed the door behind her.
Dominus rose from a wooden throne covered with purple velvet.
He embraced Veronica, kissing her on the mouth, thrusting his tongue.
"Welcome, beloved sister," he said after breaking off the embrace. "You have arrived just in time to watch a really amusing entertainment!"
CHAPTER THREE
Katherine huddled naked and in chains at the feet of the Inquisitor.
Malachi had brought her to this stone chamber where Dominus, Veronica, and Rodrigo (the Inquisitor's cousin) waited.
An iron collar was bolted around Katherine's swan-like neck. The collar fit snugly but not chokingly against her neck.
Thick iron cuffs were fastened to her slender wrists. A short length of chain held the twin cuffs together, out in front of her body.
Another length of chain connected the cuffed wrists to the iron collar.
This piece of chain was short, and so it forced Katherine to keep her folded arms pressed against her chest, her cuffed hands hanging at her naked breasts.
Additionally, her feet were hobbled.
Around her slender ankles cold iron fetters were fastened. They were joined by a fifteen inch length of heavy chain.
This chain forced her to walk in slow shuffling steps.
Dominus sat on his throne, leering down at his captive.
The stone room had a wide circular floor and circular walls. Torches with cleverly placed reflectors behind them filled the room with light.
The Inquisitor's throne was placed on a raised platform. The platform was built with steps, and completely covered with black velvet.
Veronica sat on the platform on her brother's left, while Rodrigo stood on his right. Malachi stood discreetly on the sidelines, thick arms folded over his massive chest.
Veronica idly polished a golden peach on the sleeve of her gown.
She raised the downy peach to her mouth. Her hot bedroom eyes were fixed on Katherine, staring at her with undisguised lust and cruelty.
Her lips, as naturally red and ripe as strawberries, pulled back to reveal a mouthful of white, even, polished teeth, white as ivory.
She sank those teeth into the flesh of the peach, breaking its skin, sucking the fruit juices into her mouth greedily.
Rodrigo was a weak young man in his early twenties. His unkempt brown hair fell lankly on a white, soft, bony face.
Dominus was a man of power. His black hair was cut close to the scalp.
His face was brooding, the skin stretched like a drum across his prominent bones. He had a sharp-featured hatchet face and hooded, secretive eyes.
"Good evening, my dear lady Katherine," he said. "I'm so glad that you graciously accepted my invitation to this little party."
He rose, unfolding his long lean body from the chair. He wore a brown monk's robe with a pointed hood. The robe was simple and coarse.
Beneath the robe, he wore clothes of startling sumptuousness: a brocaded velvet tunic, a jeweled golden belt, shimmering silk breeches, black leather boots.
Katherine knelt on the cold stones. Her head was bowed and her eyes stared down at the floor. She tried not to look at the bizarre machines of torture which filled the room on all sides of her.
Dominus stood over her. "These circumstances are much different from the last time we met, my lady. I'm sure you recall that incident."
Katherine recalled it all too well-it had caused the doom of her family.
It happened four years ago. Katherine had only recently flowered into puberty, and her slender curves were ripening into womanhood.
Her father, an important man in the province, had commissioned the young monk, Dominus, to tutor his daughter in Latin, mathematics, and religion.
Dominus was one of the most brilliant intellects the monastery ever produced.
The blood of the nobility flowed in his veins. But his was a family of impoverished aristocrats, whose debaucheries had depleted their holdings.
One afternoon, in a secluded grove in the gardens, Dominus attempted to seduce Katherine. They sat on a stone bench surrounded by high hedges.
She had been frightened by his brooding intensity, but respected the scope of his learning. His eyes seemed to burn when he stared at her body.
That day, Dominus had suddenly set aside his book of prayers and embraced her.
At first, Katherine was so startled-and so naive-that she thought he was expressing his sincere love for a fellow believer.
But as his hands roamed over her budding breasts, and his lips planted kisses on her frightened face, she knew he was like any other man.
Few men would have had the courage to attempt to seduce the daughter of the lord who had hired them-but Dominus was a man of the highest ambitions.
He had taken young Katherine's trembling hand and guided it between his legs.
He pushed it down on his genitals, forcing her to feel the rod of flesh which bulged in his breeches, throbbing at her touch.
Katherine, now, frightened, involuntarily shrieked for help.
Her father had been all for executing the renegade monk. Her older brother suggested that castration would be an appropriate punishment.
But the order of monks which Dominus had disgraced was a powerful one, and her family dared not risk a clash with the church.
The fact that Katherine's modesty was still intact saved Dominus' life.
As punishment, he was stripped naked and whipped out of the castle by her father's jeering soldiers.
Loutish peasants waited outside the main gates of the castle. They pelted the bleeding monk with stones, rotten fruit, and garbage.
Dominus staggered off into the mountains to hide, some thought.
They underestimated the supreme force of the monk's iron will.
He survived the whipping. When his wounds healed, he entered the service of Duke Venalo, a corrupt tyrant who also had ambitions.
Venalo's ambition was to be the supreme ruler of the province. His cruelty and tyrannical ways had even turned the elders of the church against him.
Dominus had no such scruples. Sensing a kindred soul of cruelty, the Duke appointed the monk his chief Inquisitor and Witchfinder.
Here Dominus was in his element. He and the Duke had a fine working arrangement.
When the Duke coveted the estates or castles or mistresses of one of his enemies, Dominus would accuse that enemy of witchcraft and heresy.
The Duke's soldiers would storm the castle. Its masters would die screaming in the dungeons of the Duke, who would also confiscate all their riches.
In the years since, Duke Venalo conquered the province.
The corrupt and crafty Duke rewarded Dominus well.
Now, Dominus was as rich as a lord, and lived in a castle of his own.
The monk's revenge was completed when he convinced the Duke to move against Katherine's family. The Duke kept the riches, while Dominus savored the exquisite pleasures of vengeance on his hated enemies.
Katherine's father, brothers, cousins, and nephews had all died horribly.
Now she knelt before the human monster who had destroyed her world.
"I would not wish you to think of me as a cruel man, lady Katherine."
The Inquisitor's voice was silky, mocking.
"In fact, to show you that I, Dominus, am a gentle servant of God who bears no grudges, I have arranged a little family reunion."
He commanded Malachi, "Fetch the sister!"
Malachi exited the room.
Veronica chewed the yellow fibers of the peach. Juices spilled on her chin. She blotted them with a lacy handkerchief.
Thin shrill screams sounded in the corridor outside.
They were the screams of a young girl in mortal terror.
Something familiar in the sound of them made Katherine gasp.
The brunette beauty turned deathly pale. "No! No, it can't be!"
Malachi dragged a young female into the room.
"Rosalind!" Katherine shrieked so hard that it set her chains to rattling.
"Katherine! Oh, no! Help me, in the name of God!"
Rosalind was Katherine's younger sister.
Rosalind was in her early teens, and just ripening into womanhood.
Her frightened face was heart shaped with delicate features. Pale brown hair shot through with blonde streaks tumbled down her back.
She was slender, of average height. Like her sister, she, too, was naked.
Rosalind's hands were tied behind her back by cruel ropes which cut into her wrists.
Her flesh was the color of ivory. Her terror made her face taut and strained.
She had wide blue eyes, a thin straight nose, and wide pink lips.
Her breasts were small and budding, little mounds of flesh which rose gently from her narrow torso. The nipples were bright pink and tiny.
She was gangling, with long thin legs and arms. Her hipbones were sharp and jutting, her hips narrow. Her bottom was pert with rounded cheeks.
Her pussy lips were thin, pink, delicate. A soft covering of brown hair, very light and thin, partially veiled her pussy lips.
Rosalind's legs were not tied. She squeezed her thighs closed to hide her pussy.
Katherine struggled awkwardly to her feet, her chains hampering her movements. She cried out Rosalind's name and shuffled to her as fast as her hobbled legs permitted.
Weeping and wailing-each sister had thought the other dead, up to this moment Katherine and Rosalind leaned against each other.
In her excitement at discovering that her sister was alive, Katherine hardly noted the disturbing sensations which ran through her as her lush naked breasts nuzzled the smaller bosom of her little sister.
Both girls pressed together, chest to chest, leaning forward so that each supported the other. Katherine's tears wet Rosalind's flesh, and vice versa.
Dominus grinned. "A touching scene, eh, sister of mine?"
"Quite charming." Veronica tossed the peach pit on the floor.
"Shall I take my leave, lord?" Malachi asked his master.
"Hold a minute, Malachi," Dominus said.
He descended the stairs from his throne. Katherine gasped with fear and shock when she felt his hand on her shoulder, pulling her away from Rosalind.
"I hate to intrude on such a tender moment," Dominus said. "But now, at last, we must come to some kind of terms, my lovely Katherine."
Pretending an air of friendliness, which only made his sly mockery more sinister, Dominus put his arm around each sister's shoulders.
In the emotional upheaval of the reunion, Katherine had forgotten the hideous circumstances she and her younger sister were in.
Rosalind's eyes brimmed with tears. Her lower lip trembled as she looked up at Dominus. Tear tracks glistened on her pale face.
"A lovely child," Dominus murmured. "Rosalind must be the same age which you were in that time in the garden so long ago."
"What-what are you going to do to her to us?!" Katherine quaked.
"You have the power to decide your own fate, Katherine."
"You mock me," Katherine said. "According to your charges, both I and my sister are heretics and witches, under sentence of death."
"True," Dominus admitted. "But, as Grand Inquisitor, I have a certain flexibility in these matters. You could die tonight-tomorrow or not for another thirty or forty years, depending on your decision."
"After all," he chuckled, "we all are under a sentence of death from the moment we are born. None escape that universal condemnation."
Veronica smiled at his epigram, while the nervous and giddy Rodrigo, unused to the fierce joys and terrors of the dungeon, laughed a loud flatterer's laugh. Katherine said, "I do not understand, my lord Inquisitor."
"The respectful way in which you address me shows that you understand me all too well, Katherine. But I will explain all to you."
As Katherine listened with mounting shock, Dominus stated his proposition.
Rosalind wept loudly as Dominus fondled her small breasts.
He said, "You both are too beautiful to have your bodies broken and torn in the dungeons-to have your soft flesh consumed by the fires of the stake."
"I can save you both-can, and will. But such a deed requires a price."
"What price, sir?" Katherine asked hotly.
"Are we to be your whores?"
Dominus lifted his eyebrows in amused surprise. "You astound me, my lady. Even a fortnight ago, I'd hardly dreamed that you had such a sophisticated understanding of the way things are."
"One learns fast in your dungeons, my lord Dominus."
"One does-if one lives long enough to profit by such wisdom," Dominus said. "At any rate, you have struck the target with unerring accuracy. I would not have put it so bluntly as to say you would be whores."
He continued, "Your noble blood will be respected. Never will you have to give yourselves to the peasantry-only to the finest of aristocrats."
"Aristocrats such as yourself?"
"Precisely. Myself, and those others of my family-" here he exchanged glances with lustful, leering Veronica "-my family, and my friends."
Rosalind shivered. "What infamy! I will never accept!"
Katherine hissed. "If my hands were free, I would slap your face for such stupidity, sister!"
"What?!" Rosalind was stunned. "Katherine, you can't possibly dream of agreeing to such a monstrous offer! What of our honor-our chastity-our noble name?"
"What of it?" Katherine replied bitterly. "Little good any of them have done us here! Look at you-you are frightened, and perhaps a bit bruised, but you have been lucky enough to be spared the tortures of this place!"
"I have seen them, Rosalind--enough of them to know that I would do anything, anything at all, to escape such pain!"
Katherine turned to Dominus. "I speak for my sister and myself. We accept your gracious offer of salvation, my lord Inquisitor!"
"Speak for yourself, Katherine-I do not yield!" Rosalind said.
"Don't listen to her, Dominus," Katherine said. "She's but a child, and knows nothing of life! I will convince her to obey!"
Veronica lazily uncurled her splendid body from the platform. Moving with graceful, sliding motions, she descended the stairs.
"Liar," she smilingly accused her brother. "You said that this Katherine was a silly maid, a simpleton, chaste and foolish. But she shows wisdom, brother."
"She amuses you, sister?" Dominus asked.
"The little one amuses me more," Veronica said. "Let me have her."
"We shall see," Dominus said, "we shall see."
He turned to his torturer. "You may go, Malachi. Under the circumstances, your presence will not be required here after all."
"As you wish, my lord." Malachi bowed deeply and exited the room.
"How could you, Katherine?" Tears of outrage shone in Rosalind's eyes now.
"To save both our lives-that's how!" Katherine spat.
"But what of our immortal souls?!" Rosalind cried.
Dominus cleared his throat. He said, "Katherine, a moment ago, you said that if your hands were free, you would slap some sense into your sister."
He took a tiny key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock of Katherine's manacles, and opened them. He removed her manacles.
He left the iron collar on her neck, but her hands were now free.
He knelt on the floor. "Best to open these leg irons as well ... for later convenience." He unlocked the iron cuffs binding her ankles.
The chains rattled as they fell to the floor.
Dominus put his hands between Katherine's legs. She frowned and bit her lip, but said nothing. She moved her legs open wide.
Dominus stroked her pussy. Rosalind sobbed chokingly and looked away.
Dominus caressed the silken pubic bush, then fondled the fleshy lips.
Katherine moved her feet together, squeezed her smooth rounded thighs against his hand, pressing it against her pussy for an instant, then opened her thighs.
"How agreeable you are, Katherine!" Dominus said. "Had you been so willing four years ago, things might have been quite different, eh?"
"I was a frightened young girl who knew nothing of the love of a man, my lord Inquisitor," Katherine said meekly. "I am ready to atone for my mistake now."
"Ah-a virgin seductress. You still be a maiden, my lady?"
"I am sure that you will determine that for yourself, sir," she said. "But I have never given myself to a man, as you surely must know."
Veronica stood behind Rosalind. The younger girl flinched when Veronica rested her long fingered hands on her smooth slim shoulders.
"This young one must surely be a virgin," Veronica said.
Her hand reached down to cup Rosalind's breast. Rosalind gasped and struggled. Veronica, laughing, dug her fingernails into a soft nipple.
Rosalind's shrieks of outrage turned into yowls of pain. When Veronica released her, the girl's nipple was beet-red, stiff, and swollen.
Dominus said to Katherine, "You make no move to protect your sister?"
"She must learn who her masters are, my lord Inquisitor," Katherine said evenly. "Better for her to learn that way, than on the rack or the scaffold."
"You agree that she could use a lesson in manners?"
"If it pleases you, lord Dominus."
Dominus said over his shoulder, "You may leave us, Rodrigo."
Clearly reluctant to leave, Rodrigo said. "Tis no bother for me to stay, and-"
"Get out!"
Rodrigo hastily bowed his way out of the chamber.
Dominus pointed across the room. A section of the room was closed off by a curtain. He ordered Katherine and the others to accompany him inside.
Behind the curtain was a luxurious bed chamber. A massive rack had been covered with plush mattresses and pillows, to serve as a bed.
Dominus took a rod down from the wall. It was made from a fresh-cut switch. "Put the girl on the bed."
Rosalind cried and struggled as Veronica forced her down on the mattresses. Veronica wrestled the girl face down.
Veronica muffled Rosalind's cries by pushing her face into the mattress. She straddled the girl's naked body, pressing her folded legs against Rosalind's flanks.
Spots of red, flushed excitement rose in Veronica's face when she had subdued the girl. Her gown had slipped in front, leaving her breasts bare.
The thick nipples puckered, stiffened, became erect.
"Since you hold yourself responsible for your sister's conduct," Dominus said, "it seems only fitting that you be the one to chastise her, Katherine."
Dominus held the whippy rod out to her. Silently Katherine took it.
She went to the bedside and stood over Rosalind. Veronica sat on the girl's back so that she faced her feet, and pinned Rosalind to the mattress.
Katherine raised the switch over Rosalind's squirming buttocks.
"Wait," Veronica commanded.
She gripped the hem of her gown and pulled it up to her waist. She was naked under it. Her bush was a black triangle of glossy hair.
She sat so that her naked pussy lips touched the youngster's spine. The labia split and spread, flashing a glimpse of pink inner membranes, wet and sleek.
"Now, you may begin," Veronica said haughtily.
Katherine savagely lashed the switch across Rosalind's bottom.
Veronica's dark eyes glinted approvingly at the vicious manner in which Katherine whipped her younger sister.
Rosalind was shocked beyond words that her beloved sister could treat her so cruelly. In a short time, the girl pleaded shrilly for mercy.
Katherine's naked breasts arched and lifted when she raised the switch high. The fresh-cut switch would curl almost caressingly around Rosalind's flesh.
But when Katherine lifted the rod, inevitably a thin, bleeding red line would mark where the switch had lashed the youngster's backside.
Cruelty and the love of suffering contorted the features of Veronica's face.
"Whip her!" she urged. "Cut the flesh! Draw blood, the good red blood! Make her scream! Whip the little bitch--show her that you're her master!"
Excited and aroused, Veronica rocked back and forth, rubbing her naked pussy against Rosalind's squirming, struggling back.
Oily juices shone on Rosalind's flesh where Veronica rubbed her pussy.
Katherine's face was icily expressionless. She lashed again and again.
"Enough!" The strong hand of Dominus caught her wrist as she raised her arm high to deliver another cruel and punishing blow to Rosalind's bottom.
"Enough," he repeated, taking the rod from her hand.
He smiled. "You astound me, lady Katherine. Never would I have suspected that so fair a face and form could mask such a demoness!"
"I may yet appoint you whip mistress, to keep all my slaves properly respectful," he chuckled, putting away the rod.
The room was filled with the sound of Rosalind's heartbroken sobs.
Veronica's breasts trembled as she breathed heavily.
A massive thrusting bulge in the Inquisitor's silk breeches demonstrated his aroused condition as he led Katherine to the bed.
"So fine, so accomplished a performance deserves a reward," he said.
Katherine sat on the bed. The rack on which the bed had been constructed was so large that there was more than enough room for four people.
Veronica's stiff-nippled breasts dangled as she leaned over, embraced Katherine, and kissed her on the mouth, thrusting her tongue inside.
Katherine kissed her back ardently, rubbing her tongue against Veronica's. Veronica reached for Katherine's breasts. She fondled them.
Dominus removed his monkish robe, his fine shirt, his jeweled belt.
His torso was splendidly muscled. His silken breeches rubbed Katherine's naked thighs when he sat down on the bed beside her and pulled off his boots.
Veronica climbed off Rosalind. The girl's shoulders shook with weeping.
"Help me turn your sister on her back, Katherine."
Katherine obeyed, while Dominus finished undressing.
Rosalind was tamed. She squeezed her eyes shut-tears flowed down her red cheeks. Her bare bottom was criss-crossed with a multitude of bleeding red lines.
Veronica's dangling breasts grazed the girl's bound arms as she reached for her.
Katherine said, "You'll get her blood on your fine satin sheets, my lady."
"I'm used to such things," Veronica said. "Turn her over."
"Now you will suffer."
Veronica finished untying the girl's hands. Rope strands fell away from Rosalind's chafed. red-grooved wrists.
Veronica and Katherine took hold of the girl and rolled her on her back.
Rosalind groaned in pain as her body weight pressed down on her lashed behind.
She sobbed brokenly as Veronica raised her arms, stretched them back behind her head, and re-tied Rosalind, this time binding her to the bed.
The raven-haired beauty slid down the bed. "We'll tie her legs, too-tie them wide open, so she can't close them!"
Veronica watched Katherine carefully. Katherine, shrugging, took hold of one of Rosalind's ankles and pulled it to the side.
Veronica smiled. "My dear brother is right you learn quickly, Katherine."
"Thank you, my lady Veronica."
Rosalind wept as her own sister tied her feet to the bed, spread-eagling them wide apart. But the lashing had broken her will to resist.
Veronica checked the knots to make sure they were good and tight.
"You have done well, Katherine." Veronica thoughtfully cupped her chin. "I wonder if you can take a whipping as well as you give one?"
"You will have to postpone that discovery for a time, my dear sister," Dominus said. He stepped out of his breeches, and was stark naked.
His stiff member jutted from his hips. A thick, rigid rod of lust, a massive fleshy engine, it quivered and bobbed and jerked.
Katherine, flustered, blushed and lowered her eyes.
"All! That is more like the modest Katherine I know," Dominus said.
He led her to the bed. "Lie down, Katherine."
Rosalind, unable to contain her shy curiosity, opened her eyes. Tears blurred them and hung on her long lashes. She peeked at Dominus.
She gasped when she saw his naked condition, and his stiffly erect penis. Blushing, she looked away, then took another look.
Veronica, witnessing the girl's reaction, laughed softly.
Dominus put his hands on Katherine's naked shoulders and pushed her down into the mattress. She lay on her back, her breasts trembling.
"Will you not tie me, my lord Inquisitor?"
"Should I? I will if it pleases you, my lady."
"It will not be necessary. I am yours, my lord."
"Not completely-but you soon will be," Dominus said.
He sat on the bed's edge and slowly fondled her breasts. His fingers pinched her nipples erect, then squeezed them until Katherine moaned.
His hands glided over her satin-smooth skin. "You are more beautiful than I remembered." His hands moved from her breasts to her belly.
Her breasts rose and fell with heavy, slow breathing.
Dominus touched her pussy. Katherine, sighing, opened her legs to him.
"Dare I make a request, my lord?" she whispered.
"Speak."
"When you take me-will you use something to make it easier for me?"
Dominus rose from the bed, took a jar from a cabinet, opened it. It contained a sweet-smelling lubricant which he massaged into her pussy lips.
While he massaged the greasy oil into Katherine's pussy, Veronica was giving her instructions to Rosalind.
She had to slap the girl's face and pinch her nipples to get her to listen.
"Pay attention to me, you silly little bitch!" Veronica hissed.
She told Rosalind that if the girl didn't obey her, she would have the virgin stretched on the rack until her spine pulled apart.
Veronica told her what she required of the girl. Rosalind gasped and choked, but tearful terror forced her to obey.
Smiling cruelly, Veronica mounted the bed and the girl.
She sat so that she straddled Rosalind's head, and faced her feet. Her long legs folded beneath her, Veronica pressed them against the girl's cheeks.
Rosalind quivered with fear and shame as she saw Veronica's thick-lipped, heavily-bushed pussy hanging just over her mouth.
"Remember to do as I told you," Veronica commanded.
She lowered herself down on the girl's face. At the last second, the frightened Rosalind, feeling the pubic bush touch her, cried, "No, wait-"
Her words were cut off by Veronica's pussy covering her mouth.
The pussy lips split and spread. The cruelty and erotic excitement of the evening's entertainment had made her membranes wet and dripping.
She leaned forward, resting her hands on the girl's slender thighs.
Her masses of black hair tumbled over Rosalind's thin hips. Veronica fastened her open mouth on the girl's thin-lipped pussy.
Rosalind moaned when Veronica stabbed her tongue deep into her pussy.
Impatient, Veronica pinched the girl's thighs, and rocked her pussy roughly on Rosalind's mouth, grinding the membranes against her.
A slurping, licking, sucking sound coming from between Veronica's legs indicated that Rosalind was tonguing Veronica's pussy.
At the same time, Dominus stretched out on Katherine's body.
She lay there, eyes closed, arms at her sides, while his hot wet mouth kissed and sucked and nibbled her breasts.
Dominus pushed her legs farther apart with his knees. Reaching under himself, he gripped his oiled cock and guided it to Katherine's pussy.
The fleshy cock head was a wedge pushing the labia apart. He stuffed his cock head into her, only to have it bump against the tender tissue of her maidenhead.
The sudden shock made Katherine gasp, pale, and stiffen.
"I beg you, my lord, take me quickly!" she cried.
Dominus pinned her hips down. His strong hands gripped her squirming hips. Katherine gasped, then groaned as he thrust deep into her.
His cock thrust against the maidenhead there was a sharp tearing pain inside Katherine-white light flashed in her head-she shrieked.
The erection split her maidenhead, shredding it as it plowed deep into her no-longer-virgin pussy, thrusting all the way inside her.
She sobbed and gasped as Dominus thrust in and out, raping her, taking her, destroying her maidenhead, transforming her from a haughty aristocrat to his whimpering, submissive whore.
Each time his stiff penis rubbed the last shreds of her maidenhead, she gasped with pain.
The Inquisitor pumped his cock in and out of her.
The sensation of that stiff member thrusting into her made Katherine moan and shiver. She wrapped her arms around his sweating back and hugged him.
His belly slapped hers. He moved faster and faster.
She gasped and her eyes opened wide when he plunged his full length deep into her and kept it there, pinning her hips down with a rod of flesh.
Twitching wildly, his cock spurted semen deep inside her.
Her degradation had truly begun.
It was a night of degradation and humiliation, not just for Katherine, but for her virginal sister Rosalind as well.
While the Inquisitor pleasured himself with Katherine's pussy, his sister, Veronica, forced Rosalind to mouth her to a climax.
The young girl's shame was complete when Veronica, still glowing from her orgasm, lashed her tongue against Rosalind's tiny clitoris.
The girl's body betrayed her. Despite her best efforts to resist such unnatural love, Veronica's skilled lips and tongue made Rosalind come.
Later, after Dominus and his sister rested, they changed partners.
Veronica was untying Rosalind. Katherine lay on her side, her thighs closed, her arm covering her face. She moaned with shame and pain.
Dominus asked his sister what she was doing. Veronica said that she planned to force Rosalind to lick her older sister's pussy clean of his semen.
Dominus said that as long as Rosalind was bound for his pleasure, it would be a shame not use her. He mounted the shrieking girl, his cock once more thick and stiff, while Veronica mounted Katherine's mouth, raping it with her pussy.
* * *
PUNISHED PRISONERS OF LUST
CHAPTER ONE
Beautiful nurse Anne Blye crawled slowly across the dirt floor.
Dr. Lydia Lawson was intelligent and seductively attractive. She was on her knees, in bondage, while Ramon raped her mouth.
Young, virginal Sister Barbara, a nun, squatted in a cage.
Kathy Rourke, American exchange student, knelt at the feet of the booted she-devil, Carmen Mondrago. She was licking Carmen's boots clean.
All four females were the prisoners of Carmen Mondrago.
Carmen, in her mid-thirties, was a full-bodied brunette bitch.
The dusky flesh of her face was stretched taut across her bones. She had deep eye sockets, high cheekbones, sunken cheeks, and wide, sensual lips.
It was hot in the hut where she was keeping the prisoners. Carmen had stripped down to her bra, skirt, and black leather ankle boots.
Her plump breasts thrust against the black lace bra cups, threatening to spill out of them every time she leaned forward or bent over.
The tops of her breasts glistened with a fine sheen of sweat.
Her nipples were hard, and jutted against the fragile, lacy bra cups. The bra was a size or two too small. Its straps cut into the smooth flesh of her shoulders.
Carmen wore a lightweight khaki skirt. Her long legs were crossed, right leg over left leg, so the skirt had ridden high up on her smooth thighs.
The tropical heat made it impractical for her to wear the thigh-high or knee-length boots of black leather which were her preferred mode of footwear.
Instead, short ankle boots covered her feet. The boots were made of soft thin leather, laced up the center, with pointed toes and high spiked heels.
The pointed toe of her right boot glistened with fresh saliva.
Kathy knelt at Carmen's feet. Kathy was a young American girl who had been visiting this Central American country when the revolution broke out.
Her hair, light brown with glints of blonde highlights, framed her strained face and tumbled down on her bare back and naked breasts.
She was of medium height. Her breasts were small and firm, with thick pink nipples and small rosettes. Her torso and hips were slender.
Her legs were folded beneath her. Her bottom was striped with the marks of a recent whipping administered her by Carmen.
Actually, Kathy had progressed quite a bit during the two weeks she, and her three friends, had been Carmen's prisoners.
Carmen hardly had to whip her at all anymore to make her obey.
In the beginning of her captivity, Kathy was shy and inhibited.
And why not? She was a normal, decent, respectable American teen.
She had hardly ever had normal sex-only a few times with her steady boyfriend. And even those fumbling attempts were performed in the missionary position.
Kathy had never taken a man's stiff penis in her mouth, sucked it to orgasm, and then swallowed the semen, gulping it down.
She had never even thought about mouthing a woman's pussy to orgasm.
The far shores of exotic and esoteric sex: bondage, flagellation, humiliation, bi-sexual orgies-had all been complete mysteries to her.
That had all changed since Carmen became her captor.
Carmen had little understanding and no patience at all with conventional morality. She knew only that her female prisoners would obey, or suffer.
First, they had suffered. Now, they still suffered, but they obeyed.
Rough, coarse ropes dug into Kathy's wrists, binding her hands in front of her. They rested between her spread thighs.
Saliva gleamed on Kathy's mouth and chin. Her pink pointed tongue was extended between her parted lips. It glided over the polished leather boot.
The boot had a sharply pointed toe. Kathy couldn't help wondering how Carmen could stand to have her feet compressed into boots which were so narrow in the toes, which had such high arches, such stilt-like heels.
Carmen nudged Kathy with her boot to stop the girl's day-dreaming.
Kathy opened her mouth wider. Carmen pushed her boot toe deep into Kathy's mouth, stretching the pink lips. She forced Kathy to suck it.
Kathy's head bobbed back and forth. She gave head to the boot like it was a real penis. She had serviced the genuine article of flesh many, many times since being taken prisoner. All of her had been raped-her pussy, mouth, and ass.
Carmen was not alone. She had her assistants.
There was sly, brutal Ramon, obese Nino, scheming Groggy. Those were her three principal assistants, although there were others who came to the hut from time to time, to enjoy the bodies of the lovely Americans.
Dr. Lydia Lawson was the oldest of the group. But that didn't mean that she was old, since the females were all quite young.
She was brilliant. Only in her early thirties, she was a fully qualified physician, a healer, a medical doctor.
She had a great love for humanity. It had brought her here, to this god-forsaken country, to treat the impoverished peasants at a free clinic.
Now, she was a treat for the peasants.
Ramon had been a peasant. He was the youngest son of a family of ten, who had come to the capital city to find his fame and fortune.
He was a stud and a brutal, amoral killer qualities which made him a natural recruit for Carmen Mondrago, his mistress and master.
Dark curls framed his broad, sullen face. There was more than a touch of Indian blood in him, shown by his high cheekbones and wide nose.
His penis was broad and wedge-shaped. It was not only long, but thick as well, and stretched the comers of Lydia's mouth as she sucked it.
Lydia was cool, slim, and elegant attributes which had been damaged by her captivity. It is hard to be elegant when one's hands are tied tightly behind one's back, when one is down on the floor sucking off a thuggish rapist.
Lydia had short, straight, fine ash-blonde hair, light brown eyes, a thin-lipped mouth. Her face was long and delicately formed, with fine bones.
She was high-bosomed and long-legged. Her body would have been the proud possession of a woman ten years younger, since it was so firm and well conditioned.
Now, it was the proud possession of Carmen Mondrago.
Having her arms tied behind her caused Lydia's breasts to thrust out. They were firm and pear shaped, with long pink nipples.
Her bottom was a perfect, heart-shaped ass, a pair of smooth, soft white buttocks which were split down the middle like the halves of a plum.
The lusciousness of her bottom had made her a prime target for sodomy.
When Carmen's men wanted to fuck a hot tight ass, Lydia was the captive whom they turned on her belly and mounted from behind.
Thick beads of sweat trickled down Ramon's bronzed forehead. His cold dead eyes were like chips of black obsidian. He chewed his thick lips.
Lydia bobbed her head back and forth. His broad hands were pressed to either side of her head, moving it the way he preferred.
Her sweating cheeks were hollow as she sucked him. Her tongue played over his knobbed cock head, and the underside of his swollen shaft.
His hairy balls were swollen in the sac. When he pushed very deep into her throat, his balls would lightly slap her face.
Anne Blye crawled across the floor. She had been a nurse at the clinic, and had been arrested along with the doctor and the nun.
Anne couldn't understand why this was happening to her. She had always tried to help the people of this country.
She had a social conscience. She could have worked in any hospital in the States, for many times the money she was paid by the charity foundation which financed the clinic here. But she had wanted to help the people of this poor land.
Now, they had helped themselves-to her.
Her long brown hair was the rich lustrous color of antique stained wood.
At the clinic, she had been forced to wear her hair pinned up in a prim bun, so it wouldn't get in the wounds of the patients she treated.
Now, her hair hung free and unbound. She, however, was bound.
Gleaming metal handcuffs circled her wrists, securing them in front of her.
A second pair of handcuffs held her ankles together.
Anne was in her middle twenties. Her heavy breasts-the largest of any of the four female captives-had fat, pinkish brown nipples and wide rosettes.
She was big-boned and full-bodied. Her breasts were large, and her soft smooth bottom was pleasingly plump-a favored target for Carmen's whips.
Her pubic bush was thick and full, tangled, overgrown. It was some shades darker than the hair on her head, and covered a pair of fleshy pussy lips.
The girls were being kept in a secluded house on the outskirts of the war-torn town. This safe house was where Carmen often kept her captives.
The house was made of adobe, plastered and painted white. It was surrounded by a high wall, a wall topped with broken glass and barbed wire.
The heat during the day was brutal. Even the lustful Carmen and her men rarely tormented or raped the prisoners during the mid-day heat.
Now, the sun had set, an orange-red globe sinking into the mass of jungle at the west. Cool breezes rustled through the palms.
It was still hot in the house. Sweat oozed from the pores of the females' bodies, covering their naked physiques with a shimmering coating of moisture.
As if that wasn't bad enough, Carmen and her assistants were making things even hotter for the captive girls.
Anne Blye had been commanded to go and pleasure Lydia with her mouth.
It wasn't likely that Lydia would find much pleasure in that, since she had been exclusively heterosexual before her captivity.
That was just one of the little inhibitions which Carmen had purged her of.
Since her hands were cuffed, and her feet were cuffed, Anne could not crawl on her hands and knees to Lydia, who was taking Ramon by mouth on the other side of the room.
Anne had to crawl on her belly, worming her way across.
The floor was made of dirt, a common custom in this country. The rich brown dirt mingled with the sweat pouring out from Anne's body.
It formed a smeared, mud-like paste which darkened the girl's heavy breasts, soft belly, pubic bush, pussy, and thighs.
Anne could only make very slow progress. It had taken her an awful lot of straining effort to crawl the fifteen or twenty feet she had to travel.
To further complicate her problems, Anne was bound by Carmen in such a way as to torment her pussy.
A thick belt of rope circled Anne's waist. It dug into the soft flesh of her belly so deeply that the rope was practically hidden by her rolls of flesh.
A second rope, a thinner, coarser one, had been tied to the rope belt, then passed down through her crotch, up the other side, and secured to the back of the rope.
This second rope was pulled tight. It was pulled snugly between Anne's fleshy labia, so the rope chafed her sensitive pussy membranes as she crawled.
The rope Was also drawn tightly up the crack of her ass. It plumped out her already wide cheeks, and irritated her sensitive anus.
Happily for Anne, she had almost reached her destination.
She lifted her face from the dirt floor. Brown dirt was smeared on her round face. The dirt was streaked by rivulets of sweat.
She was very close to Lydia's backside. Lydia's beautiful bottom rested on the backs of her heels as she knelt while sucking Ramon.
Anne slithered the rest of the way to her. The dirt floor had a wavy track stretching from wall to wall, charting her crawling progress.
The ropes pulled tightly against her pussy. She moaned and gasped as she crossed the floor. Her face bumped against Lydia's bottom.
Lydia didn't stop what she was doing. The penalties for failing to concentrate solely on the pleasure of her captives could be painful indeed.
Gasping, Anne tried to lift herself so she could mouth Lydia.
Her sweaty, dirt-smeared face brushed the soles of Lydia's bare feet. Lydia felt Anne's hot breath on the soft smooth flesh of her bottom.
Carmen frowned. She took her boot out of Kathy's mouth, pressed the sole of it against the girl's smooth shoulder, and gave her a pushing kick which sent her sprawling.
Kathy, upended, tumbled backward, falling on her back. Her long legs were spread, flashing a glimpse of her bush and pink slit.
Carmen rose and went to Lydia and Anne. Muscles flexed in Carmen's strong smooth thighs, accented by the contours put there by the high heeled boots.
Her lush breasts bobbed in the bra. They nearly tumbled out when Carmen bent over Anne, grabbed a fistful of hair, and twisted it by the roots.
Anne's round face contorted with pain-she cried out.
Carmen twisted it until tears spilled from Anne's eyes.
"Not that way, stupid!" Carmen shouted. "How many times do you idiots have to be whipped before you learn how to do things right the first time?!"
Carmen gripped Anne's shoulders and rolled the girl on her back.
She told Anne that she would never have been able to mouth Lydia, not the way she had attempted. The only way for her to do it was to lay on her back, slide beneath Lydia, and have Lydia sit on Anne's upturned face.
Carmen told Ramon to take his member out of Lydia's mouth.
He didn't want to do it, since he was close to coming. But he was more afraid of Carmen than of anyone else in the world, so he obeyed.
His penis glowed a dull, burning shade of red. Fat blue veins wound around the shaft. The cock head was swollen. A drop of come oozed from the tip.
Ramon gripped his cock in one hand. His member was oiled with Lydia's saliva.
Carmen kicked Lydia's behind, jabbing the soft white buttocks with her sharply pointed shoe. Lydia rose up up on her knees, taking her backside off her heels.
Anne wiggled and squirmed as she crawled under Lydia.
Lydia looked down, through her spread thighs. When she saw Anne's face beneath her, and felt Anne's breath rustling through her bush, she lowered herself down.
Anne's fat pink tongue lapped her lips, wetting them. She opened her mouth wide.
Lydia's bush brushed her face. Pussy lips, soft and pink, touched down on Anne's mouth. The labia split and spread, flashing slippery wet membranes.
The membranes rubbed Anne's face, mingling their secretions with the sweat and dirt already there. Anne thrust her tongue straight up.
Lydia's juices tingled on Anne's tongue.
Anne's tongue burrowed inside Lydia, lapping the juices from the pussy walls.
Carmen nodded to Ramon, signaling him to continue.
With casual, cool brutality, Ramon gripped Lydia's hair and slapped her face twice, once on each cheek. Her head rocked with the double impact.
Her mouth was open and moaning. Both cheeks bore the red imprints of his slapping hand. He gripped his cock, and stuffed it back into her moaning mouth.
Ramon sighed heavily as his stiff member was once more surrounded by her hot, wet mouth. He thrust into her, pushing his cock deep.
Lydia nearly gagged, especially since Ramon's cock head blocked the back of her throat, and he held her head in place so she couldn't pull away.
Luckily for her, he started thrusting. She was able to breathe when he pulled backward on the withdrawal stroke of the cycle.
Carmen spread her legs and rested her hands on her hips as she looked at the action. Ramon fucked Lydia's mouth, while Anne ate Lydia's pussy.
Satisfied with this arrangement, Carmen returned to Kathy.
As she crossed the room, she looked up at Sister Barbara.
Sister Barbara was the second youngest prisoner, but the most inexperienced.
Kathy was the youngest. Despite her tender years, Kathy was no longer a virgin when first she came to this hellish tropical land.
But Sister Barbara, a novitiate nun assigned by her order to help the poor and the sick at the clinic, was most certainly a virgin.
Carmen had determined that during the first hours of her captivity.
Sister Barbara was short, petite. She was a few years older than Kathy, but her tiny breasts and narrow hips and thin-lipped, lightly bushed pussy made her look younger.
Barbara's pale red hair, almost a reddish-gold color, was cut close to her scalp. Her face was exquisitely delicate.
Sister Barbara's face was bronzed to a rich copper color, as were her hands.
The rest of her slender body was a pale, milky white. This was because the chaste and demure white nun's habit she constantly wore covered all her body except for her face and hands.
The first night of her captivity, Sister Barbara was wearing that same nun's habit. Carmen's eyes lit up when she saw it.
Carmen had selected her men with care. This was a Catholic country, where priests and nuns were respected and unmolested by the population.
Even the country's large criminal element never preyed on the clergy.
Carmen and her assistants, however, respected no laws of God or man.
Ramon and Groggy and Nino couldn't have cared less that one of their prisoners was a nun-and Carmen was positively delighted by the fact.
Sister Barbara was paralyzed with shock that first night when, at Carmen's orders, Nino and Groggy dragged her to a table and lifted her on it.
Her shrieks were high and shrill as the burly thugs pinned her down on her back on the table, holding her arms and legs.
Carmen herself lifted the young nun's flowing skirts.
Early in her youth, Carmen attended a church school. The nuns were very cruel, and used to beat the children with their metal-edged rulers.
Childhood memories such as those did not make Carmen feel particularly merciful.
She lifted Sister Barbara's skirts and took down her undergarments.
Despite the heat, Sister Barbara wore old-fashioned white linen bloomers which covered her from her waist to her knees.
Carmen laughed, and Groggy and Nino leered and jested obscenely as the nun's bloomers were yanked down her slender legs.
Carmen licked her lips when she saw Sister Barbara's pussy. It was very lightly bushed, its labia as delicate as flower petals.
Carmen was virtually sure that the nun was a virgin, but she had to be positive.
Sister Barbara's screams re-doubled in energy and terror when Carmen carefully inserted her finger in the young nun's pussy.
Her finger only moved a short distance inside the nun, before bumping against the tender, fragile fold of tissue which was her maidenhead.
While Sister Barbara gasped with shock, Carmen smiled.
Virgins were a most valuable commodity in her business.
She removed her finger carefully. How stupid it would be to damage the fleshy proof that this young maiden was untouched!
She warned Groggy, Nino, and above all Ramon (whose particular pleasure it was to deflower virgins as sadistically as possible) that to touch the young nun between her legs would spell sure and painful death for the foolish offender.
Her men knew that she meant her words, too.
So, Sister Barbara had been partially exempt from the rape orgy which followed the four American females being taken prisoner.
Neither the nun's pussy nor ass had been raped, unlike those of her fellow captives. The nun's maidenhead exempted her from that.
But it did not spare her from bondage, discipline, and humiliation.
Like the others, Sister Barbara was brutalized.
Her nun's habit was taken away from her, with the exception of her white linen hood, which covered her hair and framed her face.
Carmen let the nun wear that. It amused her to have the sister wear the headgear of her nun's order, while the rest of her was stark naked.
This sister was not spared from the hours of tight and painful bondage, where her limbs were stretched and strained by tight ropes.
She was not spared the humiliation of having to take all her food and water from dog bowls, just as the other three women did.
She, too, was bound face down and forced to endure whippings on her bare buttocks with Carmen's cruel bamboo rods, and her leather whips.
And, in all things sexual which would not damage her maidenhead, Sister Barbara was forced to participate.
The nun, naked and sobbing, was forced to polish Carmen's boots with her tongue.
Barbara was tied naked to a table, while the other three females were forced to kiss and suck her bare breasts, and mouth her pussy to orgasm.
Whippings and punishments coerced the nun into participating in the lesbian orgies which Carmen arranged between the four young females.
Carmen was like the ringmaster of a circus of perverse sex.
Broken in spirit, will, and faith, Sister Barbara had submitted fully.
Carmen delighted in forcing the weeping, naked nun to lick and tongue her pussy to orgasm, servicing her by mouth for hours at a time.
It was not mercy which prevented Carmen from having the nun raped in her pussy and ass with stiff cocks and fat dildos.
It was money.
Carmen was a whore mistress, a procurer of beautiful and innocent young girls to the colonels of the junta which ruled her country.
Although she held no official title, Carmen was one of the most important persons in the land, since she inevitably supplied the prettiest and freshest female slaves.
Now that she had broken the four American girls, she was ready to collect her reward. Tonight would be the night of delivery.
Sister Barbara was being softened up with punishments, so that she would later remember to be constantly obedient and totally submissive.
Since she did not have to yield her pussy or her ass to Carmen's thugs, Sister Barbara had to take more than her share of painful torments.
That's what was happening to her right now.
An iron-barred, primitive cage with a circular wooden floor and top hung by a stout length of chain from a rafter overhead.
The cage was cleverly constructed so that the hapless captive within could neither sit nor stand, but could only squat down on her haunches.
Sister Barbara was locked in the cage. A penis-shaped gag, a delight.
CHAPTER TWO
The torments of Sister Barbara were increased by some perversely ingenious refinements devised by the cruelly clever Carmen.
The young nun was stripped naked, of course.
All four of the captives had been stripped of their clothes from the moment they arrived at the hacienda, and kept naked ever since.
The sister still wore her nun's hood, however.
Her hands were tied behind her back. The low ceiling and narrow floor and tightly spaced bars of the cage made it impossible for her to sit or stand.
She was forced to hunker down, squatting on her folded legs. This position was agonizing to maintain for more than a few moments.
To make things even worse for her. the floor of the cage bristled with long metal spikes, sharply pointed. These prevented the young nun from resting her bottom on the floor of the cage.
To add to her humiliation, a special gag was stuffed in her mouth.
This gag was a leather strip with a special dildo attachment. The dildo filled the nun's mouth, with the leather straps holding it firmly in place.
Sister Barbara had been forced to take more than an artificial penis in her mouth.
The virginity of her pussy did not extend to her mouth. Just like the other three females, the young nun had been forced to suck off the stiff male members of Carmen's three assistants. Fierce whippings forced the sister to tearfully obey.
Ramon particularly liked to force her to take him by mouth.
His thrill at forcing an innocent young girl to suck him and swallow his come was multiplied by the forbidden thrill of that girl being a nun.
Now, Sister Barbara hung over the floor of the room, suspended in the air. The cage swung slightly with a pendulum motion.
She was in no position to watch what was being done to the other three.
Her attention was taken up fully by her own pain.
Carmen, before locking the nun into the cage, had pinched and pulled the sister's nipples until they were raw, red, and swollen to twice their normal size.
She slipped tiny loops of thin but tough wire over the erect nipples, pulling them tight, so that they cut into the tender flesh.
To the free ends of the wires were attached five pound weights-one for each nipple. Sister Barbara moaned and gasped behind her penis gag as her nipples were stretched and distended by the weights which hung from them.
Now, as she passed by Sister Barbara's cage, Carmen pushed the cage so that it swung heavily from side to side, the chain links rattling.
The added movement increased the sister's torment, pulling in new directions.
Laughing, Carmen returned to Kathy.
Kathy knelt on the floor. She had struggled back to her knees after Carmen kicked her into the dirt, the dirt which was smeared on her body.
Carmen sneered down at her slave.
Those silly, spoiled gringo bitches! They came down to her country for a lark, and thought they could return to the safety of the USA as soon as the going got rough. Well, Carmen had showed them differently, that's for sure.
The sun was down and the sky was dark, but it was still hot in the hacienda.
Too hot for Carmen to bother with a bra.
Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra. The shoulder strips slipped down her arms, and she shrugged out of them, freeing her breasts.
The massive mounds of soft copper colored flesh, with their stiff nipples, jiggled and bounced as they came free of the lacy bra cups.
Carmen, stimulated, cupped her breasts, lifted them, let them fall free.
Still in the need for more stimulation, of a more direct kind, she doubled her bra in her hand and used it as a lacy whip on Kathy.
The elastic bra straps with their metal hooks and fasteners slashed wickedly against Kathy's wide bottom, marking her and making her yelp in pain.
Carmen whipped the American teen over to her chair.
Tossing aside the bra, Carmen lifted her skirt and bunched it high around her waist, leaving her naked below it, except for her leather boots.
Carmen let her rounded thighs fall to the sides, spreading her legs and opening her pussy up to Kathy, who crouched expectantly at the foot of her mistress.
Carmen's bush was a thick black triangle, a matted profusion of glossy black hairs which reached halfway to her navel.
Her pussy lips, thick, wet, and fleshy, were the same shade of dark pinkish brown as her nipples and rosettes. They rippled as she fingered them.
Carmen extended one imperious finger and silently pointed it between her legs.
Kathy inched forward on her knees, and put her head between Carmen's thighs.
Carmen gripped the back of the girl's head, pressing Kathy's face against her pussy.
Carmen's pussy was thick with dripping juices. Additionally, it had been very hot and humid under her khaki skirt, which added to the pungent and musky aroma which drifted up from her wet sex, filling Kathy's nostrils.
Kathy's small, pert breasts shook as her chest rose and fell while she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the rich musk of Carmen's natural scent.
Kathy dreamily rubbed her face against Carmen's bush and labia.
Of all four captives, Kathy was the most submissive. The youngster came from a rich family of permissive parents who spoiled her totally.
Carmen had whipped the girl into shape. After Kathy had first been stripped, bound, and whipped by Carmen, she tearfully but willingly submitted.
And, of all four females, it was Kathy whose mouth was the most skilled at putting pleasure into Carmen's pussy.
Carmen suspected that Kathy had deep lesbian tendencies which the girl had never faced up to or accepted before she was taken prisoner.
Once she was forced into captivity, with the threat of Carmen's whip hanging over her if she failed to please, Kathy was free to indulge in her hidden desires for the flesh of women. Of all the captives, only Kathy seemed to genuinely enjoy the enforced lesbian orgies which Carmen conducted.
Kathy trembled like a leaf as she ran her pink pointed tongue over Carmen's labia.
Carmen relaxed, and settled in for a long session of oral sex.
Kathy was good with her mouth, and had already learned how to mouth and tongue Carmen in the manner the she-devil most preferred.
Kathy licked her slowly, taking her time.
After covering Carmen's pussy with dozens of hot wet kisses, Kathy slipped her long tongue between Carmen's full, fleshy pussy lips.
Carmen, sighing, her heavy breasts shaking, moved forward on the chair, so that her pussy would press even more tightly against Kathy's mouth.
Kathy's tongue burrowed into Carmen. Secretions, thick and oily, oozed from the membranes and sloshed around Kathy's thrusting tongue.
Kathy licked the juices, lapping them and swallowing them.
Her tongue moved upward along Carmen's dripping slit, probing for the clitoris.
Carmen gasped and grinned when Kathy's tongue caressed her clitoris.
Carmen's clitoris was unusually prominent, well developed, and fleshy. It was like a fat marble of throbbing flesh, rolling in her natural oils.
Often Carmen wondered if her dominant and powerful sexual desires-so much more fierce and overwhelming than those of other women she had known-was caused by the fact that her clitoris was so large and fully developed.
It was an interesting question, but un-likely to be answered.
Carmen settled back to enjoy what Kathy's lips and tongue were doing to that clitoris.
Liquid sucking sounds were produced by Kathy as she worked with her mouth.
Carmen kept one hand on top of the girl's head, rocking it back and forth, creating a thrusting movement to the action of the teenager's tongue.
It felt delicious. Carmen's eyes became glazed and hooded.
Her breasts throbbed. With her free hand, she pinched her own nipples, digging her nails into them until the stiff brown points were marked and swollen.
Every time she pinched them, she could feel it all the way down into her pussy.
As Kathy licked and tongued her. Carmen's thoughts drifted back to the lucky turn of events-lucky for her, that is-which had brought these four captives under her control.
Only two weeks ago, she had delivered one of her little slaves to Colonel Barca, a very important man indeed in this country.
The colonel was a florid, paunchy man whose handsome and specially tailored uniform could not disguise the spreading softness of his holly.
His home, constantly guarded by his own troops, was a magnificent structure, with high walls, gardens, fountains, marble floors, and a huge main building.
Colonel Barca had a number of perverse sexual appetites, all of which Carmen gladly catered to. The Colonel paid in gold.
Carmen had brought him a new girl late one night.
The girl was very young, in her early teens. She was a beautiful native girl, part Indian, whom her scavengers had located in a jungle village.
Carmen had no trouble getting the girl. Her parents, poor with many children, were only too happy to sell the young virgin to Carmen.
The child's name was Amalita. Her thin, delicate adolescent body had only recently ripened into womanly curves.
She had glossy black hair, full and shimmering, which tumbled down to the small of her back. Her breasts were tiny, pert, budding mounds.
She was thin. Ribs showed under her smooth brown flesh, and her hipbones were jutting and prominent. Her hips were narrow, with very thin pussy lips.
Her pussy was a small pink slit lightly covered with soft silken hairs.
Amalita's thinness made her look even younger than she really was, which was an important selling point which Carmen appreciated.
The Colonel liked them young-the younger, the better.
And he had a raging passion for virgins.
Amalita was virgin. This thrilled Carmen. In this hot country, where the girls matured at such a tender age, and where incest by fathers and brothers was at epidemic proportions, it was rare indeed to find a virgin over the age of twelve.
There had been no need for Carmen to brutalize Amalita.
The youngster was delighted by the clean surroundings and nourishing food which Carmen supplied her with. For Amalita, who came from the most grinding poverty, living with Carmen was practically heaven.
Of course, Carmen had perverse tastes, and couldn't resist the temptation of binding the naked girl, or whipping her until she sobbed, and then comforting her by mouthing her thin-lipped, fresh young pussy.
But Amalita obeyed Carmen, and would eagerly crawl between the older woman's legs and press her wide lipped mouth against Carmen's pussy.
Carmen kept the girl with her, and let her sleep in her own bed. Not that Amalita got much sleep with Carmen around-she, was too busy being used.
Carmen almost regretted selling Amalita to the Colonel. But Barca was a powerful man who had been promised delivery of one nubile female virgin,-and it would have been suicidal for Carmen not to supply what she had promised.
Amalita had not been afraid of her forthcoming defloration. She expected it. Giving her body was a small price to pay for the luxuries she enjoyed.
During the brief but exciting time she kept Amalita, Carmen instructed the girl in the many ways to please a man, particularly the Colonel.
Amalita must always obey him, no matter how bizarre his demands.
She must submit, but always with seeming reluctance and girlish modesty. This would excite the jaded Colonel much more than having a willing and wanton little whore.
When the Colonel took her maidenhead, she must sob heartbrokenly. She must weep and wail and cry out that he was too big for her, that he would split her apart.
Amalita listened, her dark eyes cool, her face expressionless.
Carmen was impressed with the girl's coolness. Amalita reminded her of herself at that age. It would be interesting to see how she developed as she matured.
Perhaps someday she would be as powerful as Carmen herself. In a country where women were regarded as less valuable than cattle, Carmen had risen high indeed.
The night of delivery, Carmen bathed Amalita, rubbing her body with soft and fragrant oils which made the girl's skin even smoother and softer.
Amalita was carefully dressed in virginal white garments-frilly panties with lacy ruffles, a white bra, crisp white petticoats, and white stockings.
Amalita was dressed like a girl making her first communion. Her white dress had a full and flaring skirt, and was decorated with little ribbons and bows.
Carmen herself delivered Amalita to the Colonel's palace.
The Colonel received his visitors in the bedroom-where else?
He wore a luxurious smoking jacket which covered his considerable girth.
He was pleased and delighted with Amalita. His eyes widened with appreciation at the nymphet's nubile beauty.
Also, he knew that if Carmen guaranteed that the girl was a virgin, then a virgin she surely would be-but not for long.
One of the Colonel's small army of uniformed servants poured Carmen a drink. She would remain in the room to make sure that Amalita performed correctly.
Barca pulled Amalita on his lap. His fat hands with their thick fingers roamed over the girl, fondling her soft perfumed hair, the ribbons on the bosom of her white dress, her stockinged legs, and the rest of her.
Carmen was pleased to see Amalita obeying her instructions. The girl acted flattered by the attention and interest of such an important man, but anxious and uncertain about what he would do to her in bed.
Barca quickly erected from the arousing pressure of Amalita's satin-pantied, cupcake buttocks squirming against his groin.
He was naked under his robe. Amalita gasped when she felt his stiff member stirring and thrusting against her behind.
Laughing at the demure young miss, the Colonel eased her off his lap. took her hand, and led her to his massive, luxurious, oversized bed.
Restrained good taste was not his strong point. His bedroom was like a fantastically plush bedroom built by some Hollywood movie queen.
His stiff penis jutted out from his robe. Amalita blushed and gasped end covered her mouth and looked away, as though shocked.
Chuckling, the Colonel's hands, shaking with excitement, undressed the silently submissive girl. Now it was his turn to gasp-at the loveliness of her body.
Amalita demurely covered her breasts and pussy.
Colonel Barca made her lay down on her back on the satin sheets.
Amalita played the part of the demure virgin to perfection. Her eyes were moist with tears as she whisperingly told Barca that this was her first time.
In a quavering, fearful voice, her moist eyes wide, she begged him to be gentle.
The Colonel patronizingly patted the top of her head. He smiled as he assured her that he was the gentlest, the tenderest of lovers where virgins were concerned.
He would even put something on her, an oily lubricant which would make his member enter her easily, and glide inside her.
He pried open her slender thighs. She covered her face with her hands, as though she were too ashamed and frightened to watch.
His thick fingers massaged greasy lubricating jelly into her pussy. Never a man to buy a pig in a poke, the Colonel carefully probed her pussy with his finger just to make absolutely sure that she was the virgin he had paid for.
He grinned with wicked delight when his finger touched her maidenhead.
His robe, shrugged off, fell to the floor. He climbed on the bed and on Amalita.
His blubbery wet lips kissed and licked her budding breasts while Amalita made tiny cries of shy arousal-as though she was ashamed by her response to him.
The Colonel made her rub the lubricant on his penis. Her thin fingers rubbed lots of the lotion into his rigid rod of flesh, making it glisten.
The small girl was all but covered up by the bulk of the Colonel when he stretched out on her. She whimpered as his cock head bumped her pussy.
The more frightened and reluctant the girl seemed, the more the Colonel liked it.
He gripped his oiled cock and pushed it into her narrow pink slit.
Carmen was pleased by the way that Amalita followed her instructions.
The girl shrieked and cried. The Colonel was too big for her-she was a good girl-she had never done this before, never-he was hurting her with the size of his thing-please, please, don't push it all the way inside her!
The Colonel, leering, gripped her slender wrists in one hand and held her arms down. The fat wedge of his cock head split and spread the girl's pussy lips.
He stuffed his cock head inside her. He snorted like an enraged bull. The girl cried continually, squirmed, and thrashed.
The Colonel shoved deep inside her with a savage thrust.
For the first time, Carmen detected real pain and fear in Amalita's cries.
The girl shrieked when the rod of flesh burst her maidenhead, shredding it, then plunging deep into her violated pussy.
Later-much later-a sexually exhausted and deliriously excited Colonel happily paid Carmen the agreed-upon sum, with a fat bonus.
He told Carmen that in a few weeks he would be giving a party for some important ministers in the government council.
He would need at least three girls-four would be better.
Carmen laughed as she told him that she could never find four virgins like Amalita in so short a time-not in this country.
Barca said that was fine, he understood the problem. The girls need not be virgins, but they must be fresh, clean, and exciting.
Carmen said she would do what she could to fill the order. At the steep price the Colonel was willing to pay, she would have sold her own mother and sisters to him.
The country was torn by guerrilla warfare and random shootings.
Dr. Lydia Lawson, nurse Anne Blye, Sister Barbara, and Kathy Rourke, Americans all, were driving to the airport to flee the country.
Their jeep was halted at a roadblock controlled by Carmen's agents.
The rest was history. Carmen could only marvel at the good fortune which had delivered four beauties such as these into her hands.
There would even be a fresh virgin for the Colonel-Sister Barbara.
Carmen would love watching the naked nun being tied to the Colonel's bed, and having her virgin pussy deflowered and raped by Barca.
Carmen opened her eyes and looked around the room.
Ramon had reached his climax. His cock was burning red as it pumped in and out of Lydia Lawson's mouth, fucking it with vigor.
Anne Blye's face was smeared with saliva and Lydia's pussy juices. Lydia's pink pussy lips were wet and quivering, and her bush was dripping with saliva.
Sister Barbara moaned from behind the penis gag, her nipples and breasts stretched by the weights tied to the pink points, her legs sore and aching from being hunkered down for so long, and her bottom pierced by the sharp needles on the cafe floor.
And, nuzzling between her legs, her pointed tongue caressing Carmen's throbbing clitoris, Kathy Rourke slavishly performed her oral duties.
It was all so exciting! The thought of the orgy to come tonight-where the four American beauties would be bound, whipped, raped, and humiliated-was the final stimulus which Carmen needed to trigger her orgasm.
Carmen cried out with ecstasy as she climaxed.
Inside the pointed tips of her leather ankle boots, Carmen's toes curled and uncurled reflexively as the tremors quaked through her body.
As she came, she held her legs straight out in front of her, the muscles rigid.
Her body shook. Her spiked stiletto heels rose off the floor as she lifted her legs and held them straight out in front of her.
She wrapped her hot sweating thighs around Kathy's head.
Carmen squeezed. She rested the backs of her knees on Kathy's slim shoulders.
Carmen crossed her booted ankles on the girl's back.
Kathy's nostrils and mouth were filled with slippery wet pussy flesh.
The girl felt Carmen's pussy quiver convulsively as she came.
Carmen squeezed her thighs tightly closed.
She had a vise-like grip, great strength in her long and powerful legs.
Kathy felt faint. She was not totally taken by surprise, since Carmen often liked to smother her oral slaves with wet pussy flesh when she climaxed.
Kathy had filled her lungs with air when she sensed that Carmen was coming.
Still, as the seconds ticked by, it was a strain for her to hold her breath so long.
Blood pounded like drums in Kathy's skull.
She felt faint-dizzy, lightheaded.
The tropical heat was nothing compared to the fever of Carmen's flesh.
Kathy would pass out soon. Lights danced in front of her eyes.
Carmen tilted her head back. Her eyes were glittering slits in a sweating face.
Her mouth was open. Great gasping moans came from it.
She bit into her lower lip with her even white teeth, and shivered.
Kathy started to crumple.
Carmen let her thighs fall open.
Kathy pulled her wet face away from the dripping pussy. Her flesh was even redder than Carmen's, the result of holding her breath.
Kathy sobbed and gasped for air.
She crumpled in a heap on the floor.
Carmen shivered once more, then sat still in her chair.
Her thighs and pussy lips twitched and jerked.
Her naked breasts lifted and bobbed as she filled her lungs with air, expanding her chest. Her sigh was deep, prolonged.
Keeping her eyes closed, she sat there for a moment, savoring the delicious feeling of electric afterglow which rushed through her.
She wiped the sweat from her stinging eyes with the backs of her hands.
Glassy-eyed, she peered around the room.
Ramon thrust in and out of Lydia's mouth.
Every time his cock emerged from between her lips, the shaft glowed as red and burning as a blacksmith's forge.
He always kept the knobbed cock head in Lydia's mouth, never pulling out completely.
Lydia moaned when he thrust deep into the back of her throat.
Earlier, he had amused himself while she sucked him, by inflicting little cruelties on her, such as pinching her breasts, twisting her nipples, scratching her.
Now, he was too excited to bother with minor amusements like that.
Lydia's chin was wet with saliva. It had spilled on her breasts.
Sweat oiled her body. It looked as though someone had just thrown a pail of water over her. The sweat formed a glistening coat on her flesh.
Her breasts bobbed and shook from the force with which Ramon fucked her mouth.
He thrust into her so hard that droplets of saliva went flying into the air with each stroke of his cock into her mouth.
Lydia's thighs quivered and flexed as she fought the arousal which Anne's hardworking mouth was putting into her pussy.
Lydia's bush was silver with Anne's saliva.
Lydia held her pussy up, so it would not press too hard against Anne's mouth.
Ramon grunted.
He stopped thrusting and held Lydia's head firmly in place.
Her eyes widened as she felt his cock throbbing on her tongue.
Looking over his shoulder, Lydia saw Carmen staring at her.
Carmen was grinning.
Lydia lowered her eyes and looked down just as Ramon came.
The Latin sounded like a snarling hound. He growled from deep in the pit of his stomach as he climaxed.
Semen spurted from his swollen cock head.
Shuddering with revulsion, Lydia swallowed it down as it spurted.
Her jaw and throat muscles flexed as she swallowed.
Ramon's buttocks were tightly clenched as the come was pumped out of his red and swollen balls and into Lydia.
He squeezed his eyes shut and whipped his head from side to side.
He kept his cock in her mouth long after it stopped coming.
Finally, he took it out of her.
He shivered from the sensation of his sensitive cock gliding over the smooth wet insides of her puckered lips.
There was a liquid sound, like a champagne bottle popping when its cork is pulled, when Ramon's fat cock head came free of her puckered lips.
A thin strand of semen clung to his cock head.
It fell back, spilling on Lydia's trembling chin.
Ramon's eyes were sleepy and dreamy. He was as relaxed as he ever permitted himself to get. His pants hung down around his ankles.
While she gave him head, Lydia fought to keep from becoming aroused by what Anne's lips and tongue were doing to her pussy.
It would be a serious and painful mistake for her-for any of the captives-to neglect their masters for the sake of their own pleasure.
Lydia had been strictly heterosexual before being captured. Since then, she had no choice in anything done to her by males or females.
She had learned through painful experience that a woman's mouth pleasuring her pussy was much to be preferred to the whippings she would receive if she failed to obey.
Now that Ramon had pulled out of her mouth, she lowered herself down on Anne's face.
Anne puckered her lips and rubbed them against Lydia's clitoris.
The clitoris was a fat pink pearl of flesh. Anne gently sucked it up between her puckered lips and held it there, driving Lydia wild.
Then she whipped her tongue tip across the clitoris.
