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 Cut-Price Black Beauty: (c) Hamilton Joyce.  Mf nc.

   I decrypted the email and it was from Colonel Jasper Robertson, though
he just signed it "Johnny" as he counted me among his friends, satisfied
with my efficiency and honesty over the two years we had been doing
business, and probably also because he was confident I shared his pedo
tastes.

   One of his "guests" had become too ill to be useful it seems, so he had
a vacancy.  His specification was simple: female: black: between eleven and
fifteen, thirteen preferred.  Fit, religious, virginal, newly addicted to
heroin or cocaine, preferably H.

   I wondered if the last "guest" I had supplied him with already had been
"used up" or whether it was the blonde Russian boy presumably from my
former employers, Satisfaction Inc, but really that was no concern of mine.

   I replied to his 'Dark Web' address that I had identified potential
merchandise, and attached a clip from a local Wessex paper.  Jolene was
featured as the sort of girl others should use as a model, someone to
aspire to match in her achievements, The colour photo showed a tall black
girl, willowy and with very pretty European features despite her ebony skin
tone, high cheek bones and a lovely oval face.  She was in running shorts
and an over-tight white t with a big yellow high-viz over the top with a
runner's id number on it.....  56.  You could see there would be nice tits
under all that clobber, and her long, shapely legs and cute little-girl bum
left nothing more to be desired.  Her hair was braided into a tight pattern
close to the scalp, so much nicer I think than the wiry, straightened hair
some black girls favour.  Sex on legs: and religious too.  The article made
a big point of her membership of some happy-clappy Christian church or
other, singing in the choir.

   I added that Jolene was a prospect only, but I would develop the project
if Johnny thought she might suit him.  I was thinking of about £100k if she
proved to be virgin, hymen intact, £80k if not intact.  £40k down now and
the balance on delivery to him.  We would be looking at delivery in maximum
six weeks: one week for research and capture and at that point I could
report on her virginity.  Then I might need five weeks to get her properly
hooked, and injected heroin would be my choice too.  I would not fuck her
in the pussy or in the arse, and not even in her mouth but I would
humiliate her sexually and make her submissive with repeated beatings.  But
not severe enough to mark her skin, which seemed to have the silkiness of
teenage beauty and would be a crime to spoil before he and Macken enjoyed
it.  Her three virginities would be for him and his companion to dispose
of. My training in obedience would include some spanking, whipping and
bondage and perhaps masturbation over her.  I would deliver her properly
cowed and submissive as I always did, as well as desperate for the next
fix. She would not be a willing sex-slave except in so far as her addiction
drove her to agree to the games proposed.

   I would reinforce her religiosity while beginning to make her feel guilt
about sex.

   I encrypted the message and sent it off.  The reply was same day: "go
for it.  40k transferred to the account you used last."

   The money was not particularly important as this was just a pot-boiler
to keep my hand in: I had made enough on the sale of Heather to give myself
the luxury of just enjoying humiliating a proud little lady without any
need to plan, plot or groom or look for a major auction, export sale.  It
could be very tiring concentrating on producing an eager and willing
teenage sex-toy using "horse whisperer" persuasion rather than masculine
brutality.  After months of kindness I would enjoy asserting my will, enjoy
some tears and shrieks of pain, and especially the final degradation of
having to submit, to beg for it driven by the changes in her body wrought
by regular injections of heroin.

   Main thing was not to be bored!

   And, although I would deny myself full sexual satisfaction in her vagina
and certainly did not expect to see her climax, Jolene was a cracking
little teenage beauty.....  A rest from mainstream sexual activity would be
good for me.

   ......................................

   At first I thought lifting her would be difficult.  She was home-loving,
and home was her mother and an aunt.  She was always driven to school by
one or other of the ladies, and always driven home, with no staying late
after school.  She trained most evenings at a local sports centre, but that
was a busy place and she would never be alone, in locker-room, gymnasium,
or out on the running track.  Her mother or her aunt chaperoned her in any
case.

   The breakthrough came the first weekend after five days of stalking her
when she left early wearing her running gear, took a bus a few miles out to
a sports field, and started on what proved to be an eight mile training run
through the countryside.  I was disguised in jogging gear, too, and kept
always a quarter of a mile or so behind her: it was difficult to keep up
even though I am very fit myself.

   The interesting bit and obvious opportunity was when she used an old
railway-line, now called "The Badger Trail." She did two miles of this
level, easy running until she branched off on a bridle-way by a former
railway station, now ruined and derelict, its yard used to park coaches and
buses not used for the school run on Saturdays or Sundays judging by the
notices in windows.

   I checked, and she did the same on Sunday morning.  I hoped that was her
weekend routine, as indeed it proved to be.

   The track on the opposite side of the old line to the abandoned road to
the former station was still passable, though the verges were overgrown and
there was a strip of rabbit-cropped grass up the centre.  There was no sign
of dogging or the often associated daytime gay rendezvous activity so
common on disused roadways especially through woods like these: no used
condoms, foil or tissues....  real litter-louts those guys!

   The parked buses must have approached from the other end of the station:
they could not have accessed the parking from here.  It looked as if the
road to nowhere was now no longer used even by local farmers.  I managed to
turn my van in what must have been an old lay-bye or passing space without
leaving any tyre impressions for police forensic to study, park it up, and
push my way through some scrubby bushes till I was on the "Badger Trail"
itself.  This early morning there was no-one else on it so I decided I
would lift her next Saturday, or failing that Sunday, and this was the spot
I would do it.

   .......................................

   I saw her start from her house Saturday about seven, just after dawn, on
a misty and dank morning: not walkers' or even joggers' weather.  That had
not put young Jolene off, and she looked really spectacularly fit,
beautiful and if it were not for the air of innocent virtue surrounding
her....or perhaps because of that ....  sexy.  I would have to control
myself if I was to preserve her valuable three cherries for the old
colonel! Worth a few score thousands in the bank......

   I drove off immediately as I wanted to be in position well before the
girl, and after I had turned and parked the van I calculated she would be
along in about thirty or forty minutes.  I changed into jogging clothes and
hid atop the ruined railway bridge that had formerly carried the road over
the line.  From that vantage point I would see her yellow high-viz top from
at least half a mile away and she would not see me.

   And finally there she was!  I timed it so I appeared, jogging
apparently, and running towards her on the wide path so we crossed exactly
beside the bushes hiding my Transit Van.  I gave her a gruff 'Good morning'
and got a charming smile and 'Hi' back.  The solidarity of joggers!  I
turned immediately she had passed and was close behind her: I grabbed her
with my ether rag over her mouth and nostrils, my other arm over her chest
pulling her backwards onto me.  Tits felt firm and springy....  A moment's
struggle and she went limp.  Over my shoulder she went, no great weight,
hands grasping her bare thighs, her body and arms hanging down my back.  A
quick look around to see no-one else on the path.  Captured unseen as
usual. Carefully now through the bushes.  No footprints, no jags of
clothing, and no broken twigs for forensic.  Door of the van slid open
noiselessly, and the inert girl propped against the metal side sitting on
the mattress kept there.

   She would be out for perhaps ten minutes more, so no hurry as I used
heavy duty black Duct Tape to strap her ankles together and her wrists
similarly behind her back.  Tape across her mouth, making sure she was
breathing easily through her nostrils.  Yes!  OK.

   And so away, back the sixty or so miles to the safe-house.  It really is
too easy, I thought.  Money for old rope: unless you took into account the
careful research and preparation, the understanding of secure
communications and the control of complex financial transactions hiding the
origin and destination of funds.  And I would be at a loss were it not for
the network of rich pedos I had accessed while working as an agent of
Satisfaction Inc.  and had developed further in the past two years of
independent operation.

   .......................................

   I did not want her to see the outside of my house, or the scenery around
it, in case the old Colonel carelessly let her escape and she brought the
police into the affair.  So I ignored her pleading, tearful eyes and
applied the ether again before carrying her from the van to her cell.

   I took my time undressing her, enjoying for a minute or two the sight of
her black skin tone contrasting starkly with the brilliant white of her
brassiere and panties.  I took a couple of photos for The Colonel and then
removed her lingerie.  Her breasts were perfect, matchless: small still,
yes.  After all she was only thirteen although fit and well developed for
that age.  Pretty little cones about the size of oranges, a lighter shade
than her torso, but tipped with small ebony aureoles and one centimetre
nipples, black and erectile when I kissed them, indulging myself.  Licking
and kissing was within the limits I had set myself for handling this
merchandise, and her breasts were completely irresistible.

   She had quite a lot of very tight curls on her pubic mound, and I would
enjoy removing her muff soon: one of my favourite pastimes, depillating
girlie cunts and potentially painful and humiliating for the unwilling
victim.  Ideal!  I teased myself by prising open her tight-closed outer
lips with thumb and forefinger to reveal the always surprising red inside.
Her cleft was dry so I sucked my index finger and inserted it in her
vagina. Glory be....  a hymen, and a strong one at that.  I would not be
penetrating there as far as the hymen again, not with finger and certainly
not with cock.  I was lucky: you just never know with active, sporty girls,
So many accidents can break that flimsy proof of innocence, destroying a
lot of a girl's monetary value.  That thin membrane was worth £20k to me,
not to mention my growing reputation as a reliable procurer of young girls
for rich pedos.  I expected I would be invited to see the monstrous Macken
rupture it.  And soon after The Colonel would let me enjoy her too, as he
had last time.  Something to look forward to!

   Before she came round I clipped on the stainless steel collar that I had
used for several weeks on Heather, locked it and fixed the light strong
chain.  so there she was, the virgin Jolene propped naked on the bed and
just opening her eyes to take in the abject horror of her situation.

   Her eyes focussed on the big strong guy standing by the bed, presumably
her kidnapper, and then the cell itself.  Brightly lit by ceiling lights
behind steel grills, a steel toilet bowl, a matching sink, a shower, the
bed, an iron table and chair fixed by bolts to the concrete floor.  Stark.
A prison cell.

   Her hand went to her neck and found the slave collar and chain and the
sheer terror of her situation made her collapse sobbing, tears streaming
down her face, My cock had been stiff before: now it was painfully hard.

   I pulled her across the bed so she lay on her back in front of me, and
grasped one little, soft hand.  That would feel good cradling balls or
rubbing a cock, I thought.  But to business!

   I fixed the cannula into the vein at her wrist and gave her the first of
her many shots of heroin.

   "This will make you feel good, or at any rate much better.  And whatever
you do don't pull out that gadget on your wrist.  That would make me very
angry indeed.  And above all, you will soon learn not to make me angry with
you."

   I expect you're beginning to feel happier: while I leave you for a bit I
want you to shower so you are sweet and wholesome."



   ........................................

   I left that threat with her and went off to get my lunch: a bottle of
Guinness and as coupler of salami sandwiches.  I made the girl cheese
sandwiches as I watched her showering, the chain continually getting in her
way as she soaped her tits and arse.  My cock told me I would be having
some amusement with her when she had done.

   I watched her sit on the toilet, wincing at the cold stainless steel on
her shower-warmed cut bottom, and heard her piss.  then it was back to the
bed, kneeling beside it praying.....  my guess praying for release, that
the people she knew would be looking for her would find her.

   Then a dozen press-ups (impressive that!), and about twenty squats. 
Clearly she intended to keep fit while in captivity, which was good.  I did
not want her to get flabby while I was getting her addicted and submissive
ready for sale.  Her young body flexed and moved sexily, sharp tits and
smooth, athletic bum: my cock stiffened to full erection.

   Letting myself into her cell, I put the sandwiches on their paper plate,
along with a couple of apples and a beaker of grape juice on the table, and
turned to her.

   "You did not use the douche...  I can see it is still exactly where I
left it.  why not?  Do you think I want a stinky-arsed little girl?  I'm
angry with you, Jolene."

   I kept my voice cold and calm: It's more intimidating that way, sort of
sinister.

   "I didn't know.  What is a douche?  Please, sir, I really don't
know...."

   "In that case you ought to at your age.  What are you?  Thirteen? 
Disgusting not to know the basics of personal hygiene.  I suppose it's for
me to tell you...  Fuck it!"

   She winced at my swearing: I assume she had not often heard that word
used by an adult!

   I showed her how to use the douche, humiliating her splendidly as she
bent to grease her arse, and stick the nozzle up.  Then even more as I
watched her shit the warm water out.  I reminded her to wipe her bottom and
flush the toilet, as if she were an ignorant baby.....

   "And now, a lesson to make sure you remember always to douche your arse
(but never your cunt) when you shower, and always after you shit."

   Leaving her collar and chain on her I took handcuffs from my tool-kit
box, and a short length of chain.  When I was nearly a teenager, getting
erections, masturbating but without cum yet, I came across an image that
has stayed with me all my life: I think it was from a book about the slave
trade, a cheap, poorly executed woodcut with what was to a sexually curious
pre-teen boy an amazingly sexy icon.  A young female slave was hanging by
her wrists from a sort of gallows, her tits firm and pert (just like
Jolene's in fact), her bottom jutting suggestively, a promise of sexual
pleasures, Her cunt open as her legs spread when she swung about, lips
plump and mysterious, a tiny triangular pubic fleece.  Beside her a
Plantation Overseer, a tall, beefy white man in open-neck shirt and long
trousers tucked into shiny leather boots had his whip raised and was
clearly lashing the captive girl.

   I came the first time I saw it in the library book, almost without
touching my cock.

   I tidily razor-bladed the plate out of the book and hid it, using it
frequently as fantasy material for my increasingly frequent masturbation.
Even now, my cock will stiffen when I remember that image, and it may be
the root cause of the theme of sadism that runs through my life, into my
chosen career.  Anyway, I enjoyed stretching this girl on tip-toes, her
tits so firm and proud, her arse almost boyishly hard and muscled, but
already feminine in its roundness, and whipping her with my black leather
thonged cat o' nine tails.  Hard enough to sting her up and make her
scream, but not so brutally as to break the skin or even bruise it.  White
girls' bums are temporarily spoiled by deep red marks from a good whipping,
but there was little to be seen on her ebony skin.

   She was silent at first: I could see her gritting her teeth and even
trying not to flinch as a thong found a nipple, or even when one strip of
black leather managed to slide up between her legs and find her cunt lips.
I guessed she did not want to give her captor the pleasure of seeing her in
pain, of hearing her beg for mercy: this was a girl worth breaking in.  She
would be a wonderful subject for Johnny and his man-servant to use...... 
worth the £100k outlay, and probably good enough for a repeat order when
she or one of the other two they always had became "used up".

   I knew that if I increased the weight of my blows she would give way
eventually: I would just be careful not to break the skin.  I must have
lashed her a further twenty times, mostly on her bottom, of course, but
sometimes on her belly, tits, and sometimes down to her thighs, making sure
that some of the thongs struck the tender flesh on the inside, and the even
more tender places in her crotch.  And of course she gave way eventually,
sobbing at first, then weeping, tears running down that beautiful face, and
finally screaming in pain when yet again my whip fell across her cunt.  My
god!  Whipping her satisfied my fantasies, and I would easily have fucked
her in either of her holes as she hung there helpless were it not for the
£100k and my reputation around the pedo network as a procurer who could be
trusted to deliver premium quality merchandise and on spec too, a man of
his word.

   I had nearly had enough, but I wanted to hear her beg me to stop.

   Sure enough the screams increased in volume, one with each well-aimed
blow, and it occurred to me it was good the old house had deep cellars! 
She begged, implored, promised to do exactly as I required....

   So I stopped, unhooked her and unlocked the hand-cuffs, leading her back
to the bed and again securing the chain.

   "Remember that the whip is always there, and I am very happy to use it.
Now, hold out your arm and I'll give you something to take away the pain
while you have your lunch."

   Another, small dose of 15% base straight into the vein via the
cannula....



   ............................................

   I fed her well three times a day and always two fixes of heroin.

   She was still praying a lot, kneeling by the bed.  Well, Johnny wanted
her "religious".I beat her daily, sometimes strung up to the ceiling,
sometimes tied to the bed, bum in the air, or better still on her back with
her legs apart so I could tickle up her tits and pussy with my whip.

   She was, I noticed on the cctv, doing less of the keep fit exercises,
tending just to lay on the bed a lot, that and praying when I was not
there. She still ate her food, but I could see the high points of her day
were the fixes....  she was nicely hooked.

   Finally it was time to test how far she was addicted.  Nothing easier
than just to miss one regular fix and see her reaction.....  It was exactly
what I wanted: nervous, pleading, sweating.  I relented just short of the
nausea and vomiting: she was was addicted and ready for delivery.

   .....................................

   The clothes had been ready for a week, mail order.  Breakfast time I
handed them to her.

   "Put these on after your shower: we're going visiting.  Be careful not
to ladder the stockings."

   This was how Johnny wanted her first time, and she did indeed look tasty
in the white lingerie, stockings and high heels contrasting with her ebony
skin.  The bra was tiny, and the thong almost as transparent as the bra,
the little front panel more than hinting at her shaven pussy lips.  At the
back a thin lacy string covered her anus but left her buttocks bare.  It
was worn over a larger satin suspender belt with two straps each side.

   "I haven't had my fix, sir..."

   "You'll get it at my friend's, if you're a good girl....."

   "Not fair.  I've been good...."

   "Who said I'm fair?  Be good and it'll be ok.  Not long to wait."

   I took the precaution of ether to immobilise her before loading her into
the van, Duct Taping her wrists behind her back, and her mouth.  I left her
ankles free (stockings!) but the van doors did not unlock from the inside
so no danger in the hour and a half to the Welsh hills, and Johnny's
ancestral pile.

   Maskel was waiting outside the house and with me trailing behind carried
the girl in, not down to the cellars where her empty cage would be waiting,
but up to a bed-room / play-room where Johnny greeted us, white silk
dressing gown over his otherwise naked body I guessed by the tenting effect
at the front.

   His greeting of me was cursory, but his first action after shaking my
hand was to feel her tits under their flimsy nylon shield, while Macken
ripped the tape from her wrists and mouth.

   Her first action when she could speak was to ask for her 'fix'.

   Johnny smiled, pleased that she was obviously addicted and so would be a
docile participant in all the extremes of the sexual act he and Macken
intended till she was "used up" to employ their rather sinister phrase.

   "Jolene isn't it?  Well if you are a good girl and do as you are told
you will get your 'happy fix': that's a promise, just as the opposite is a
promise if you do not.  Now, since she is already very, very religious,
Stephen, why not baptise her before we begin.

   I nodded.  It was certainly time to complete her training, ideal while
she was completely disorientated and terrified.  I undid my belt and let my
slacks fall to my ankles.  My cock stood near vertical and by the look on
her face, a mixture of sheer fear and amazement, the innocent girl had
never seen an erect penis before.  Mine was nothing compared to what she
would see when Macken stripped: that weapon would intimidate even a
seasoned catamite like myself.

   I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her across the bed so she lay
with her face looking up at my ball sack and that threatening male organ
sprouting from pink and shiny, shaven nest of balls.  I stroked it letting
pre-cum drip into her crispy, plaited hair.  Then, as I felt the orgasm
rising from my anus to my cock directed the knob straight at her and
intoned in my best "religious voice".....

   "In Satan's name, in the name of Lucifer, of Beelzebub I baptise this
maiden Jolene.  With this semen I commit her to Satan's service for as long
as she lives.  So help me my diabolic lord."

   And with that my cum spurted out over her tits and belly, a second great
streamer over her forehead, across her wide-open eyes nose, over her closed
lips and chin.  Another weaker spurt just reaching her neck and shoulders,
and then the last oozings as I pulled at my cock dripping into her hair
again.

   "Say Amen, Jolene."

   "I can't."

   "You bloody can, girl.  You belong to the Devil, my master and yours
now, and there is fuck all you can do about it.  You're baptised and that's
that.  Amen.  say it!"

   "I won't.  I belong to Jesus."

   "We'll see about that....  Macken."

   I pointed to the whips displayed tastefully on hooks and brackets on the
ornate wallpaper.

   He selected a flexible leather riding crop.  Back to the bed where she
was laying with her baptismal semen dripping down her face, and white
streaks on her upright ebony tits.  He slashed at her tits the whip, hard
enough to hurt, but not so as to break the skin.  Now that would spoil our
fun.

   "Amen.  Say it.  and remember no 'fix' to stop the pain unless you do."

   Silence.  That's better I thought as he slashed again at her unprotected
belly since she now had her arms over her tits.  More screams.

   "No-one can hear you in here, Jolene.  'Amen' before Macken loses his
temper and really hurts you.  He knows how, believe me.  'Amwn'.  Say it."

   He slashed again, this time aiming at the crisp black curls of her pubic
fleece.  Another wonderful scream.

   "No, please.  I beg you.  Amen.  Amen.  Amen."

   "Now, repeat after me....  Thank you Lord Lucifer."

   A timid little whisper, voice shakyy.

   "Louder.  Thank you Lord Lucifer for accepting your Jolene into your
service.  Louder, girl.....  though my Lord Satan can hear even your
unspoken thoughts.  I want you to shout it as loud as you scream when
Macken whips you.  Louder.  Thank you Lord Lucifer for accepting your
Jolene into your service."

   This time she shouted it.

   "Thank you Lord Lucifer for accepting your Jolene into your service."

   "And Amen...."

   "Amen."

   "There.  That's done.  Forget your Jesus.  he can't help you here.  We
will worship Lucifer in the manner he likes....  you will find what that
is. But first a little reward for being a good little servant....  You
think we should give this young disciple of Satan the reward for becoming
His Novice?"

   He laughed, but pumped the heroin into her convenient cannula: her
relief was immediate and obvious in her face and above all her eyes.  The
sobbing stopped as the euphoria, now so habitual, buried anxiety and pain.
The sobbing stopped.

   "Now, rub that baptism cum into your tits for me, and lick up the bits
your tongue can reach on your face.  Yes!  You'll get to like the taste,
believe me.  The more you swallow, the more you will want.  But first, your
master Satan abhors virgins, and Stephen assures me you still are, and can
prove it with your unbroken hymen.  You are a virgin I hope."

   There was a sort of sob but also a murmured "Yes".  I guessed the little
hesitation, that little sob had been because after weeks of expecting me to
rape her she now knew she was not to be virginal much longer.  And, indeed
Macken had pulled his khaki t off to show that barrel chest, masses of
black hair, and when he dropped his shorts a huge erect penis.  I don't
know how big, but think coca cola can plus a bit for length and breadth.

   "Oh, please no.  It's too, too big...."

   "They all say that, Jolene, but they all manage it.  you'll see."

   I had seen Macken fuck before....  and always teenage or pre-teen girls
and boys, so I knew I was in for a voyeur's treat.....

   He arranged her on the bed.....  on her back, legs stretched wide apart,
knees bent.  Her pussy lips looked so appetising: asking to be kissed,
tight closed.  Johnny handed him a tub of lubricant and Macken opened those
lips with finger and thumb of one hand, smearing lots of the jelly onto the
inner scarlet cleft with the other.  I watched him work some right into her
vagina with his thumb....  I noticed he was careful not to penetrate as far
as her hymen.

   He handed the tub to me.  The girl lay motionless, seemingly frozen into
the position he had chosen for her.  An onlooker who did not know would
have assumed she was "being brave" by not reacting: but no!  It was the
heroin.

   There was no need to hold the girl down in any case as Macken's huge
weight crushed her into the mattress, and she had to turn her face sideways
not to be smothered.  He rested up on one elbow so Johnny and I could see
the moment of penetration I supposed.  With the skill of many deflowerings,
he placed that great, flaming red knob against her still tiny vaginal
opening and pushed, winning perhaps an inch as his knob disappeared
amazingly into her.

   Not a scream, but a gasp and a protest, again that it was too big.  He
supported himself on both elbows now and I saw his broad, hairy buttocks
clench, muscles moving as he thrust again and this time her hymen broke. 
Johnny and I watched as the scarlet skin of her inner lips was pulled in
along with his cock.

   Despite the drug, that rupture hurt her and his effort was rewarded with
a hair-raising (and prick hardening for me and Johnny) scream of anguish.
His cock was now sliding into her until we could see only an inch or so of
the shaft.  I assume his knob had struck her cervix at the end of her tight
sheath....

   He pulled out as far as the rim of his cock and the skin of those
stretched lips was now pulled outwards.

   He had shown us what we wanted to see so now he made her take his full
weight, crushing her perky ebony tits, stretching and filling her cunt as
he fucked.  Slowly at first, but powerfully as his gluteal muscles and hips
drove his cock into her, but with increasing speed as the minutes passed. I
could hear the slap of his balls against her perineum, probably her
arse-hole too, and the scent of sex filled the room with its heady perfume.

   The initial scream had been replaced by little screams as his knob
crashed into her cervix, and these continued for several minutes while she
protested that he was splitting her, he was too big, and please stop or
finish.

   He ploughed on regardless, sweat now dripping from his face.  and I
assume from his body crushing her.

   Then there was a subtle change: those screams became more like gasps,
"ohs and ahs".  Johnny looked at me and winked.  we both knew that the pain
had passed, and was being replaced by a pleasure, all the more satisfying
to us as we knew that for a girl so recently a Christian virgin this
pleasure would be guilty, a shameful weakness, hurtful to Jesus and Mary,
but a token of her servitude to Lucifer.

   She believed in The Devil of course: we three certainly did not!

   No pleas to stop now!

   Macken had certainly cum as there was a crust of white scum forming at
her cunt-lips, but as I knew from seeing him in action before, he could
fuck on and cum a second or even a third time without abandoning a hot cunt
even for a moment.  So he fucked, and fucked, and I saw the girl now with
her arms around his broad back, finger nails digging into him as she held
onto this heaving monster.  The squeals of pleasure started again as she
came, her ankles locked around his bum and her pussy sometimes visible to
Johnny and myself as his thrusts pushed her up the bed.

   And now as her orgasm died away and still he pile-drove into her I heard
her pleas for mercy: she had enough!

   But Macken had not and it was another few minutes before he allowed
himself to cum a third time, and pulled out immediately he had finished, a
stream of bloody cum flowedfrom her empty, gaping vagina.

   No rest for her, though, as Macken turned her on her belly and pulled
her legs so her upper body was pressed onto the mattress, her bum at the
edge of the bed.

   Johnny stood between her legs and groped her hard little bum a moment or
two before leaning over her to lick sweat from her gleaming ebony back and
then spreading her buttocks to reveal her anus.  Her second cherry was to
be his, but not before he bent to rim her anus, savouring the tight hole
and the cum and blood, mixed with her own juices, that had dripped over it.

   As I watched Johnny, that randy old bugger, felching the girl, and as I
admired her lovely black arse with its dark red rose, the whole framed by
dazzling white suspender straps, I marvelled that I had been able to
control myself those weeks I had her at my mercy.  How had I been able to
resist the temptation of those pursed, plump pussy lips, and the virginal,
tight.  little girl anus?  Probably the twenty thousand it was worth to me
intact helped.

   But, fuck!  I envied Colonel Jasper Robertson as he anointed that secret
rose with his Anal-Silk, then oiled his own knob, placed it and with one
brutal shove was in her full length, his balls slapping against her
perineum.

   And she screamed.  Brother, how she yelled!  Good job the walls of the
old house were thick and the place was isolated.....

   She continued screaming and pleading with him, but he just ploughed her,
demanding only his own pleasure from her tight little anus and those hard,
almost boyish buttocks.  It did not take him long, this first fuck, this
deflowering of her male virginity.  If Macken had been the master of making
it last, this older guy just wanted to cum, to pump his hot sperm into her
guts.  He bent over her, reached beneath to grab a tit in each hand, and
drove his cock up her with three greats thrusts, each I assumed cumulating
in a gusher of cum.

   Then with a laugh he pulled out.

   "Sorry I was so swift, baby.  Next time I'll be longer and you'll
probably enjoy it more after your evening injection.  Meanwhile, Stephen,
she's yours.  You deserve her, my friend.  You want her pussy or her arse?"

   "Yes!"

   "Ha!"

   "I tell you what I fancy, Johnny.  Tie her hands to the bed-head and put
a couple of pillows under her belly.  I'll do her doggy-style....  By the
way have you still got Rex?"

   "You heard what he said, girl.  Kneel down and hold onto the bed-rail
while Macken secures you.  Yes, Stephen, we still have Fex.  We spoil him a
bit....  let him fuck any guests just before they are finally used up, and
of course he helps us dispose of some of the left-overs too.  There.  She's
yours.  Enjoy her!"

   "Please, not in my bum......"

   Her cunt lips looked swollen and the mix of cum, blood and probably her
own cunt-juices was still seeping out and down towards her anus as I opened
her with one hand and placed my cock with the other.  One shove and I was
up her as easy as you could ask: Macken's broad weapon had stretched her
and it would be some time before her vagina returned to its proper
little-girl tightness.  Still it was a lovely firm arse, jutting out, and
one I had lusted after for those weeks of training.  Well, it was mine now,
and I fucked her hard, arms around her and grasping her tits while I did
all the work with my hips.  I crashed against her black thighs with every
thrust and it did not take me long to feel the spunk rising .....

   She had been silent, but as I knelt upright abandoning her lovely tits,
grasped my cock and plunged it roughly into her arse-hole, then she
screamed blue murder, enough to make me cum immediately.  I spanked her
black bum one slap with each of four thrusts and squirts deep in her.

   I pulled out and Macken passed me a towel.

   "You'll stay the night with us, Stephen?  Macken has prepared one of his
very special roasts, and after the meal you might enjoy an hour or two with
Sergei: the boy is nearly a man now and worth sucking!  And if you want to
be fucked like last visit, he's good at that too."
The offer of the boy was tempting: I don't get enough boy-fun nowadays.
But the idea of Macken's roast filled me with a sudden nausea.  I had long
suspected the last service by their "guests" when they were "used up" was
to grace the dinner table with their more succulent flesh.....  I had
always known that the dog Rex was fed that way, but their depravity went

way beyond that!  All I could do was make my excuses and leave.

   "Thank you for your usual hospitality, Johnny, but I can't afford just
now to leave my place unguarded overnight, and really must leave..... 
Another time, perhaps.  I'll have to leave you to enjoy your new guest."