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 Rape's Progress Part 14

   by Sebastian X

   Miss Theodora Throsbie, the sweet little blue-eyed blonde who had once
taught accounting at the night school I attended, made an excellent sex
slave.  She invariably begged me not to do whatever I had set my mind on
and, despite loud and tearful protests while I was pleasuring myself with
her, she nearly always reached a noisy juddering climax.

   I had planned to keep the petite twenty-something year old in my
boat-shed studio for only a short time before surrendering her to my
sister-in-law Kim.  Kim was going to train Theodora for her new role as
concubine and financial adviser to a minor Middle Eastern sheik.  Events in
that part of the world put the plan on hold and Kim was happy for the
former lecturer in accountancy to live at my place for a short time. 
Security wasn't a problem.  Either I, or my occasional girl friend,
Charity, was with her most of the time.  At first, when Theodora wasn't
being used, she was locked in the secure room cut from the native rock at
the back of the boat-shed.  Later, when she became resigned to her fate,
she became part of my little 'family'.

   Theodora Throsbie had been a member of the Purity League and one of the
flock of a fundamentalist church which preached no sex before marriage and
nothing too exciting after.  So you could say that being pack raped and
then subjected to a period of sexual servitude to a lusty teen aged master
and his libidinous girl friend was a liberating experience for which the
little teacher should be forever grateful.  In time she may possibly agree.

   Miss Throsbie had been engaged to be married to Gregory Goodman, a
missionary saving souls in the Congo.  The day after I changed her
life-motif from pedagoguery to pederasty, the world heard via CNN of yet
another inter-tribal war in Africa, during which the Bongolo Mission, where
Gregory labored, was reduced to ashes.  The men had been made to watch as
the womenfolk were raped before all were impaled on sharpened stakes for
the amusement of the raiders.  We had saved Theodora from a nasty (if not
pointless) death.  Judging by the fuss she made when Charity first used a
strap-on to sodomize her, Ms Throsbie would have been a very noisy martyr.

   Charity had once been in the same predicament as her catamite.  She too
had been chained naked to my bed waiting for me to decide how long and with
what instrument she was to be beaten before being fucked.  Despite her
rough handling, or perhaps because of it, Charity had developed a taste for
submissive sex.  She would squirm and wriggle her tight little tail
whenever I picked up a crop or a paddle.  Her eyes would go big and misty
and her juices would start to flow.  When her older sister, Hope, had
joined us, Charity derived almost as much pleasure watching me mount her
sibling as when she was the sole recipient of my teenage lust.  She
eventually joined in and became an enthusiastic collaborator in whatever
sexual activity was afoot.

   Charity showed that she was eager to join me in educating Theodora in
the ways of rough sex on the very first night we three spent together. 
First she bathed our captive, dried her with a big soft bath towel, and
rubbed soothing oil into her sore backside and swollen pudenda.  I saw
Theodora tremble as Charity's nimble fingers caressed and probed her
erogenous zones.  I guess our victim had never had another woman touch her
like that before.  When the little teacher was clean and relatively
comfortable, Charity allowed her to put on black, lace-topped stockings and
red highheeled shoes before she marched her into the bedroom and sat my
latest fuck toy on the big solid bed.  Charity was wearing a few strips of
black leather and stainless steel rings under her wrap.  Theodora regarded
her with alarm.

   Charity popped velcro-fastened leather-cuffs on Ms Throsbie's wrists and
attached a steel spreader to her ankles.  Charity tied Theodora's wrists to
the bed head using stout cord.  The woman's protests began to become
strident but she went quiet after Charity threatened to gag her.  Charity
next bound the spreader to the bed head close to the prisoner's wrists.  In
this position Ms Throsbie could be easily entered both vaginally and
anally, a fact she quickly realized as I stripped off and knelt before her,
laying my engorged prick between her widespread thighs.

   She had experienced my larger than average erection before but began to
blubber and plead for me not to rape her again.  Her eyes grew even rounder
and her protests louder as Charity took hold of my cock and began to rub
its head up and down the length of the proffered cunt, gently parting the
outer lips of Theodora's vagina and allowing lubricating juices to make her
slick.

   "Oh!  God!" she wailed.  "Please stop!!" But all the time she was
getting wetter and more aroused than a member of the Purity League should
get under any circumstances, let alone when tied to a bed and being raped!
Poor Theodora!  She so wanted to be a saint but her body insisted she was a
sinner.

   I reached for her left breast and took the nipple between forefinger and
thumb of my right hand.  I rolled it gently and felt my victim respond. 
Theodora whimpered and, without realizing what she was doing, began to push
against the steady but gentle pressure of my cock, which was being rubbed
up and down her cunt by Charity.

   "I think she wants you inside," said Charity after a while, as she
sensed the quickening tempo of Theodora's breath and noticed the
involuntary heave of her hips.

   "No!  No!" protested the little teacher.  "Please ...  don't ...Oh!!"

   Charity had to squeeze it into Theodora's narrow cleft.

   Theodora began to sob in time to my steady pumping.  I gradually
increased both tempo and depth of penetration.  Her protest became one
continuous "Nah...nah...nah!"

   She squealed loudly as Charity took hold of her right breast and, rather
roughly I thought, tugged and pulled the nipple erect.  Shortly after that
Theodora's protests became animal grunts of pleasure and soon she was
rising, as best she could, to meet my deepening thrusts.

   "Oh God!  Don't!  Stop!" became "Oh, God!  Don't stop!" and she
experience the first of the night's noisy orgasms.

   I continued to pound her upturned pudenda.  I felt Charity's hand let go
of the base of my cock and saw her duck her head between Theodora's raised
buttocks and my groin.  I felt the tip of Charity's tongue explore the base
of my plunging cock and her soft lips caress my bulging scrotum and my
heavy balls, before I too came, flooding the helpless teacher with thick,
warm, semen.

   She wept with shame and embarrassment as she twitched and moaned with
pleasure!

   Then it was Charity's turn with the strap on.

   * * *

   Four weeks after I acquired Theodora the "Organization" called on the
services of Kim and Co for an unusual task.  It was, we were told by the
Accountant, who was our usual link with the criminal group, "a very
sensitive matter." He was a pompous little man who usually wore grey and
who seemed to enjoy his role as messenger of the gods.

   The accountant explained that Mr Black, one of the triumvirate who ran
the criminal syndicate had recently been deserted by his lover.  Not only
had Mr Black been thrown over but his former paramour planned to marry
within the week.  Mr Black was extremely upset, said the Accountant.  He
felt he had lost face and intended to wreak his vengeance on both the
lovebirds.

   He wanted Kim to arrange the kidnaping of the pair after the wedding
ceremony but before their marriage had been consummated.  Then, said the
Accountant, licking his thin, dry, lips, they were to be brought to the
"dungeon" (a quaint name for Kim's stainless steel and ceramic-tiled
operating theater, part of the warehouse complex which housed Kim's little
empire) where the former lover was to observe as the newly wed spouse was
to be grossly humiliated, both physically and sexually!  "To be specific,"
the accountant said, "Mr Black expects his former lover to witness the
'rape and disfigurement of the vile seducer'.  His words exactly."

   "Mr Black has every confidence that you will perform this task to his
satisfaction," said the Accountant before going.  "Please, let me
emphasize, his former lover is not to be hurt, just made to watch the utter
degradation of the marriage partner.  Mr Black would like an edited video
tape or DVD of the, er, 'honeymoon from hell' as he likes to call it. 
Something he can play to his sweetheart after their enforced, if necessary,
reconciliation."

   Kim protested that it seemed unfair that the presumably innocent partner
was to be made to suffer physically while Mr Black's former paramour would
merely witness the punishment.  She was about to suggest that the bride
should also suffer a little but she was cut short by the accountant.

   "That is what Mr Black requires," he sniffed.  "Please see to it."

   When the Accountant had gone I told Kim that I was prepared to organize
the abduction of the happy couple but felt I lacked the necessary aptitude
for what was wanted by the vengeful Mr Black.  Homosexual rape and torture
was not something I felt competent to deal with.  Of course, I assured Kim,
if Black had wanted his girlfriend fucked until she dropped I would have
been happy to oblige but, as I understood what the Accountant was saying,
she was only to watch while the poor sod who had married her was to be,
literally, screwed.  Kim said she understood my point of view but the Turk
called me a "wuss" and some other names and announced he would be delighted
to star in Black's video as the Dungeon Master.  He said he would get a
kick out of giving the new husband all sorts of what for.  I was glad that
he wanted the role.

   The abduction, which I organized, was a piece of cake.  The marriage was
conducted in the Botanic Gardens by a Wedding Celebrant.  The reception was
held in a nearby hotel which catered for that sort of thing.  No family was
present and only a few friends.  By paying twice what was required in
compensation I persuaded the limo driver, hired to take the newlyweds to
the airport, that his job had been canceled .  Then, dressed as a chauffeur
and driving one of Kim's suitable vehicles, (with white ribbons attached
from the upper corners of the windscreen to the winged victory atop the
radiator) I waited until they climbed aboard.  The mini-bar was stocked
with champagne, beer and Vichy water, all liberally spiked with the
date-rape drug.  Both bride and groom were asleep before I had driven half
way to Kim's warehouse complex.

   The bride (Mrs Smith, nee Samantha Goodbodie) was not the stereotype
"gangster's moll" I half expected.  She looked no more than twenty years
old.  Her hair was black and she was short and a tad plump.  He, Bruce
Smith, looked a bit like a young Mick Jagger - raddled - but blonde, stocky
and at least ten years older than his bride.  They were still unconscious,
his long blonde locks tastefully arranged on her bosom, when I handed them
over to Kim and the Turk.

   While the couple were still dopey I leant a hand in preparing them for
their ordeal in Kim's "dungeon".  I helped Turk undress Bruce and shackle
him to Kim's stainless steel "hitching rail".  This is a sturdy frame,
equipped with tie points and spring clips.  It is set over a sunken drain
in one corner of the tiled torture chamber.  There was no chance the poor
sod could get away once we had fastened him to the rail.  But Turk, "in the
interests of security" he said, fastened a thin cord around the
bridegroom's scrotum, led it through a block in the center of the drain and
made the end fast to a collar strapped tight around the man's neck.  I
could see that when the Turk began his treatment of the captive the wretch
would be unable to lift his head without risking castration.

   While the Turk and I had been seeing to the groom, Kim had attended to
the bride.  The young woman was strung up by her wrists a few feet from the
hitching rail.  When she came to she would have a grandstand view of her
new husband's humiliation.  Kim had dressed her in a shocking pink teddy,
with stockings to match and a floral headpiece with veil.  She's also found
some long white bridal gloves.  "Should look good in the video," she said.

   The couple were only just recovering their wits as I bade my farewells.
The Turk was debating whether to start with electric shocks or something
more personal.

   * * *

   I knew something was wrong the next morning.  I was preparing a
leisurely breakfast of bacon, eggs and mushrooms.  I was still in my
shorts. I'd just finished spearing Theodora to the mattress to the usual
accompaniment of pleas for mercy followed by great sobs of gratified desire
- over four weeks training had transformed the little teacher into a
compliant sex toy, resigned to her fate and happy to be of service - when
the phone rang.  It was Kim.  I was ordered to get to the Warehouse
straight away.

   "Forget breakfast.  Be quick!" she said.  "This is an emergency!" She
sounded worried.

   When I arrived I was met on the jetty by the Turk.  His normal swarthy
features looked pale and he was unusually polite as he took the runabout's
painter and made it fast to a cleat.  He accompanied me to the control-room
in the cell block where Kim and the Accountant were viewing the video Kim
had made for the vengeful Mr Black.  Kim looked grim and the accountant was
as grey as his suit.

   "We have a problem, Sebastian," Kim said.  "It seems that Mr Black is
gay!"

   On the video monitor she used for editing I could see the Turk in
action. The groom was screaming and weeping while his pink clad bride
watched in wide-eyed horror as the naked torturer swung a thick leather
whip that the Turk called a bull's pizzle..

   "Oh!" I said.  "So that's ..."

   "Bruce," muttered the Turk.

   "Black's boyfriend," said Kim.

   "Who wasn't to have a hair on his head hurt in any way!" said the
Accountant.

   I noted that he didn't have any hair on his head and guessed that the
Turk had decided to barber his victim in addition to the other
humiliations.

   "I have played back a recording of the meeting at which Mr Gray gave us
Mr Black's instructions, Sebastian.  As you know we assumed ..." continued
Kim.

   "Everyone knows that Black is a homosexual!  Common knowledge!" snarled
the Accountant, interrupting Kim's quiet account of the disaster.

   "Not everyone," she replied calmly.  "I didn't, the Turk didn't and
Sebastian certainly was under the impression that the woman was the
runaway, as the recording of the meeting and it's aftermath demonstrates.
I'm afraid, Mr Gray, that your instructions were not clear.  The mistake is
yours."

   The Accountant shook his head.

   "Well," I said, in a cheerful voice.  "What can we do to clear up the
mess?  I can give the woman a good tanning and then fuck her witless.  Kim
can make it look horrendous on the video.  Meanwhile the Turk and our
friend the Accountant can do what they can to repair the damage to, er,
what's his name?"

   "Bruce," said Turk, "And it won't work."

   "Why not?" I asked.

   "Because Mr Gray, the Accountant, was so anxious to show his efficiency
that he delivered the first copy of the DVD to Mr Black first thing this
morning, without having the wit to preview the damn thing!" said Kim
spitefully.

   "Spoilt his breakfast, I'll bet!" I joked in a vain attempt to lift the
gloom.  No one laughed.

   There was a bleak pause.

   "So, what happens now?" I asked.

   "Mr Black, Mr White and Mr Green are at present in conference," said Mr
Gray, clearing his throat.  "They have heard my testimony and have listened
to Miss Kim's explanation.  When they have reached a decision on what
action they intend to take they will inform us."

   "The three of them run the Organization." explained Kim.  "On past
performance they'll want blood and massive compensation.  His blood, I
guess!" S he jerked her thumb at the Accountant who looked as though he was
going to weep.  "The devil knows what they'll demand from us!"

   "We'll soon know," said the Turk indicating a monitor which showed two
limos arriving at the back door of the warehouse.  Four bodyguards jumped
out of the leading vehicle and escorted two black suited gentlemen from the
second limo to the secure entrance.  Kim, who had moved quickly when she
saw the motorcade, met them as they entered the warehouse and escorted the
group of six into the elevator, then up to the control room where we
waited.

   The two suits sat at the head of the table.  Their entourage stood
behind them.  The Accountant started to say something but was silenced by a
gesture from the older of the two executives.  He was a white haired old
man who I was sure I recognized.  He was the first to speak.

   "There have been developments," he said, looking very solemn.  "It is
with regret that I tell you my friend and colleague, Mr Black, has passed
away."

   Kim hissed involuntarily.

   "Heart attack." Said the white haired old boy.  He looked around the
table.  His gaze fixed on the Accountant.

   "Dead!  His demise brought on by your incompetence," - he gestured
towards Mr Gray - "and his," - he pointed to the Turk - "sadistic treatment
of Bruce Smith."

   "I really must ..." began the Accountant.

   "Silence!" bellowed the younger executive.  "You will listen to what Mr
White has to say.  Not another word until he has finished!"

   Mr White nodded to his associate and continued.

   "In many ways Black's death removes some problems which confronted the
Organization.  It is no secret that his infatuation with Smith was regarded
by myself and Mr Green as potentially counter productive.  His instructions
to Gray, regarding the kidnap and torture of the young couple, were not
authorized by the Triumvirate, nor would we have sanctioned such a risky,
and profitless, endeavor.  Nevertheless, it is to your credit, Miss Kim,
and you, young man," - he nodded at me - "that the snatch was performed
without flaw."

   Kim visibly relaxed.  I grinned at the old boy.  I'd just remembered
where I'd seen him.  He featured in one of the tapes I had liberated from
Zac and Cyril's pad.  He's been tied to a bar and obliged to watch the
randy louts rape his mistress while threatening him with emasculation.  Kim
had returned the tape to him without comment.  No wonder he thought highly
of her and yours truly.

   "On the other hand, Gray, you should have reported Black's intentions to
us before commissioning the deed and you," - he turned his stern gaze on
the Turk - "took too much pleasure in what was, to my eyes, a disgusting
and perverse task."

   The Turk shrugged.  "I did what I was told." he muttered.

   "Which is why your miserable life will be spared." commented Mr White.

   Mr Green took this as his cue to pronounce sentence on us all.

   "Miss Kim, in order to avoid this sort of conflict of interest in
future, the Organization has decided to absorb your various enterprises. 
You will be financially compensated for the loss of this warehouse, its
contents and the various businesses you have created as cover for your
white slaving and other, related, activities.  Given the downturn in trade
during the past few months you will, I am sure, be happy to accept our
generous offer." He scribbled a figure on the back of a business card and
pushed it towards Kim.

   Kim nodded and smiled.

   "Mr Gray, when you have handed over your accounting duties to your
successor you will be, er, retired.  Until then you will be confined to the
Administration Building in the city."

   Gray went white and couldn't stop shaking.

   "Turk, you will continue to work and reside here!  You are to ensure
that Bruce Smith is treated for his injuries.  He will be your
responsibility entirely.  Your new employer will be appraised of the fact.
When Smith has recovered enough to do without your care he will be given
the opportunity to inflict on you the pain and suffering you visited on
him."

   Turk shrugged.

   "Sebastian, you come out of this unfortunate incident, smelling of roses
.The kidnaping of the Smiths was a tactical masterpiece.  So few involved.
Such economy of effort.  Such elegance."

   I smiled and nodded.

   "However your efficiency has resulted in the death, albeit
inadvertently, of a member of the ruling council of the Organization. 
Under the circumstances we can no longer employ you.  As Ms Kim's business
will now be run by the Organization you are unemployed."

   I thought, "At least I'm all in one piece" when Mr White chipped in.

   "We have decided that you deserve something for your past efforts on our
behalf," he said.

   "We will fund your attendance at university.  We suggest you read law,
you have some of the qualities of a good attorney.  In addition you may
keep the boat-house apartment."

   "Thank you," I said.

   There was more talk, mainly administrative detail.  Nothing was going to
happen overnight so I suggested that I took the new Mrs Smith under my wing
until the new arrangements were in place and asked to be excused.

   I wrapped the trembling woman in a warm blanket for our trip up the
harbor in my aluminum runabout.  As soon as we were home I introduced her
to Theodora and Charity who were whiling away the morning with a game of
Pirates and Schoolgirls ( it's a variation of Pirates and Nuns played when
they run out of good habits).  Theodora, after four weeks training with me
and Charity, had abandoned most sexual inhibitions and found the prospect
of deflowering a newly wed bride quite exciting.  They admired her pink
bridal outfit and while I was cooking myself a large late breakfast of ham
and eggs they tried to comfort her with gentle caresses and soothing
massages of a sexual nature.

   Mrs Samantha Smith was, if anything, even more tense when they brought
her to me in the bedroom.  It's not often a young lad like me gets to fuck
a bride before her husband has enjoyed the privilege and I made the most of
the opportunity.  She, having recently seen the minuscule tassel sported by
Bruce (and Turk's not so big dong), was aghast at the sight of my
post-breakfast erection.  Big at the best of times, it must have seemed
enormous by comparison.

   They spread her on the bed, each taking a pink-stockinged ankle.  I
stroked her firm white breasts and nibbled each rosy nipple.  She was
weeping and begging me to "have mercy" (honestly!) as I positioned my prick
and drove into her in one smooth, strong, movement.  The foreplay the girls
had indulged in had moistened her a little but she was still a tight
squeeze.  As I settled into a steady rhythmic in and out, Charity and
Theodora let go her ankles and joined in the fun.  Theodora kissed her neck
and lips while Charity managed to force two fingers up the bride's rectum.

   Samantha stopped screaming before I climaxed inside her.  She was
exhausted.
   End RP 14