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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Passions Playpen part 12 of 14 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
PASSION’S PLAYPEN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Twelve
During the night every man who wished to mounted Kate. She was
forced to receive him, lying atop the table smeared in cream and
leftover bits of fruit. Ben encouraged each man to fuck her so that she
might be opened more fully. When her cunt had been pillaged they turned
her over onto her belly. Her bottomcheeks were spread apart. Zelda,
recovering her dignity somewhat, assisted. Kate felt her hind cheeks
pried open and, fearful that she would be hurt, she begged to be let
up. But they all ignored her. Each man was encouraged to thrust into
her little hole and make it more receptive. Sam was one of the
roughest; in his youthfulness he was preternaturally hard, despite
losing himself earlier in the night in a crumpled napkin. His eagerness
to have her was too great for him to entertain any consideration for her
welfare. He jammed himself into her as quickly as he could. His
passage was eased somewhat by the spending of the other men, left behind
in her behind as a token of their conquest. Yet Kate found herself
screaming as Sam used her. He was young and rude, his cock was urgent.
Kate heard Ben cautioning Sam not to hurt her. She was to be
opened, not ruined, Ben warned the boy, and for the first time Kate, in
the midst of a scream, thought he seemed to be referring to her as if
she were not merely his slave, but as if she had some financial value to
him.
In the last hour of the party, when every man had given all his
balls had to offer, a woman turned Kate onto her back again. She used
Kate’s tits to make her pussy cream. She rode them, Kate knew, for her
nipples in their stiffness were all the hardness left to this party.
Morning came as a soft light in the shadowed hall. Kate heard
the footsteps of the maid and she entered the windowless dining room to
find Kate still lying on the table. She went about her business,
cleaning up the room, ignoring Kate. Slowly, feeling herself utterly
used, Kate drifted into sleep. Her last thoughts wished to be
self-pitying, but instead she found herself amazed, thinking of how the
men had worked so hard to fill her with themselves. Perhaps it was just
their lust, she told herself, yet she hoped it was something more; a
deep admiration, perhaps, of her beauty.
In her sleep Kate was a little girl, just nine-years-old, and
she was somehow to be the sexual centerpiece at a dinner party. She saw
herself sitting crosslegged on the floor. She watched T.V. in the
family room of a house as guests were ushered through the front door.
They were let in and taken down a hall to a dining room. None of them
saw her, for she was tucked away in the family room, watching cartoons,
yet soon all of them would see her, with her little body naked while
they still remained dressed, eating with proper manners at the dinner
table.
Kate was dressed in her dream in a t-shirt. But it was
sleeveless and slit up both sides right to the neck line. It billowed
out in front of her when she shifted forward, and fell open in back if
she leaned back. It was tied down at her waist. A little knot on each
side of her, riding on her hips, held the front and back of the
t-shirt’s slit sides together.
A man, perhaps wiser than most, seeking out the real treasure
of the house, wandered to the doorway of the family room and gazed in at
Kate. She pretended not to notice, yet she was secretly thrilled that
he’d found her and hoped he liked her. She leaned forward and let her
shirt fall open. He could see the side of her body, bare underneath her
shirt, and she knew he could see her budding young breasts, small peaks
of flesh that she was both embarrassed by and proud of.
He stood sipping a drink. Kate watched the T.V. She
interlaced her fingers and tried absently cracking her nuckles as she
watched characters assault each other in a cartoon house on the T.V.
She could not get her knuckles to crack. She unlaced her fingers. The
man drifted away. She heard a woman’s voice and he was escorted out to
the dining room.
Perhaps 15 minutes later, when the cartoon had finished, the
woman came into the family room, by herself, and with a smile urged Kate
to her feet. She led Kate into the kitchen. There, on a rolling cart,
Kate was to lie and be decorated for dessert. Kate looked at the big
cart and only began unbuttoning her jeans when the woman insisted. They
were small denim Calvin Klein jeans but Kate wore panties under them
anyway. The woman untied the knots in the waist of Kate’s t-shirt. She
lifted it off Kate, then brushed Kate’s hair with a brush. When she was
ready for Kate to get up on the cart she told Kate to take off her
panties. She might have simply bent down and taken them off herself,
for Kate was only a child, barely past the age of eight o’clock
bathtimes. But she preferred for Kate to do it, and waited while Kate
hesitated, her small fingers tugging uncertainly at the waistband.
Finally with a small gulp Kate skimmed down her panties. She stepped
out of them and was conscious of the cool kitchen air on her bottom, and
on the lips of her cunny. As she walked up to the cart where she was to
lie, barefoot and with her blonde hair sweeping across her nude back,
she clenched and released her bottom cheeks apprehensively. The woman
very politely set a small step down on the floor so that Kate could
mount it. Otherwise she would never have been able to get up on the
cart, unless someone lifted her up like a baby.
Kate brushed back her hair from her face and sleeked her hands
down over her tummy. Briefly she looked down at her tits. They were
beautiful white cones of flesh, still mostly just consisting of her
nipples. Yet they were not just swollen nipples. They were more than
that, and she felt a certain pride that she was already ahead of some
other girls at her school who were just now noticing a swelling of their
teats, while she herself had grown beyond that.
As Kate stepped up onto the step she felt her bottomcheeks roll
with the lifting and placing of her foot and then the rise of her other
foot. She had a full warm bottom, the kind a girl could slip into a
pair of jeans and feel wiggle behind her as she walked. The cheeks of
her ass were a lovely pink-white. Kate felt the woman place a hand upon
them, the same hand Kate knew would spank her when the night was over.
She was lifted up by a pressure of the woman’s hand on her bottom. She
lifted her leg like a dog about to pee and got it up on the side of the
cart. She pulled herself up onto it with the woman cupping her bottom
cheeks.
“Lie down, on your back,” the woman said to Kate, admiring her
as she knelt on all fours uncertainly on the cart. Relieved to get her
bottom under her, Kate flipped onto her back and stretched out. She
wished to keep her feet together but the woman made her spread them
apart. Kate looked down along the length of her body and wished she had
at least a little pubic hair to cover her nudity between her legs, but
she had none. The woman grasped Kate’s wrists and gently drew them up
over Kate’s head. Reminding Kate to keep her legs apart, the woman tied
Kate’s hands to the bar at the end of the cart with ribbons.
Kate felt herself shiver. She was completely bare, as if for
her bath, and it was her bathtime, but instead she was to be decorated
and served for dessert at dinner. The woman went to her feet and spread
them even farther apart. Then, with Kate watching, the woman bound
Kate’s feet to the push-bar at the end of the cart. Kate was completely
captive now; and she knew that when she’d been eaten for dessert, the
woman would bend Kate over her knee, right at the dinner table, and
spank Kate’s bottom until she cried.
For many years they had had orgies in this house. Kate had
been only dimly aware of them at first. But as she grew older she’d
become more conscious of them, until she yearned to be as big as the
adults were so she could participate too. When she whispered her
fantasy to the woman, the woman had shocked Kate by saying she could
participate.
“But not as an adult, dear. You’re too young for that. Yet I
won’t deny your wish to play with us grown-ups. It is too late for
that, if you’ve been spying on us instead of going to bed like you’re
supposed to. I’ll present you at dinner at the next party, but on one
condition. To keep you at least a little pure, I insist on spanking you
afterward. And it must be in front of the others, so they can see that
you’re getting at least a little punishment for being naughty and
wanting to show your body to them, and for spying on us.”
Kate had reluctantly agreed to the spanking, for she very much
wanted to play downstairs instead of being sent upstairs to bed. She’d
spied on them for two whole years. She was ready for more.
In her dream Kate knew where she was. She had an aunt who was
very vivacious. She’d always dreamed of staying with her aunt instead
of her parents. And now, her dream engulfing her, she was her aunt’s
child, not her child actually but her live-in companion child, and her
parents were nowhere to be seen.
Kate’s aunt, a young woman, used a knife to spread icing over
Kate’s budding breasts. She slathered the icing over the top portion of
each of Kate’s titties, but left the underside bare, so that the guests
could immediately see that Kate was not just a nipple-girl, but had
actual little peaks that she could show off to them. Kate’s aunt kissed
Kate’s belly but put nothing on it. She did, however, squirt whipped
cream into Kate’s pussy, so that she was covered a little bit down
there. But then she put a marachino cherry into the whipped cream, and
Kate felt very embarrassed. She was indeed a virgin, yet she did not
want it so blatantly advertised. She arched her hips, hoping to
displace the cherry, but her aunt told her to be still or else. Then
she parted Kate’s lips and put an apple in Kate’s mouth. After
considering the effect for a moment, she plucked it out again. She said
she preferred to see Kate’s innocent smile. Then she drew apart Kate’s
hair into twin pigtails, as a final statement of Kate’s artless
sexiness, a bare girl who should be in bed spread out on a serving cart
instead.
Kate had had her bath early tonight. She could still smell the
Winnie-the-Pooh bubble bath on her skin and pigtailed hair, a light
childish scent that clung to her even after she’d rinsed. She hoped the
guests liked her. She did not wish to be rejected because she was too
young. She wished for the man in the doorway to see her again, without
her kid jeans and her t-shirt, all naked and spread out for his eyes and
his mouth.
She was wheeled into the dining room by her aunt. To Kate’s
embarrassed delight her arrival was greeted by ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Ahhs,’ both
female and male. They gazed upon her, all dressed in tuxes and evening
gowns. Lying in a silver tray on the cart, she was lifted and
transferred to the table by two men. One of them was the man who’d seen
her in the family room. Slyly he took the bottom of the tray, the end
where her feet were, so he could peer unrestricted up between her legs
at her pussy. Kate was glad for the whipped cream her aunt had squirted
there and hoped it covered all of her slit.
Kate was placed in the center of the table, between two elegant
gold candlelabra. Her hands, freed from the push-rail at the end of the
cart, were re-tied to the candlelabra, so that they remained stretched
out above her head. Her bare feet were pulled wide apart and tied with
ribbons that ran to the edges of the table, where they were tied by the
long ribbons to hooks under the table. Kate did not resist as the men
tied her. She was too excited. Her little nipples stood up straight,
the icing not covering them, though it did cover the top halves of her
breasts. Her pussy buzzed for attention under the layer of whipped
cream that was melting in it, with the cherry announcing her innocence,
like a small fake penis standing boldy up from a froth of baby-like
cream.
A small discussion ensued among the guest over Kate’s beauty
and charm. No one suggested she might be too young to join them.
Instead the females present talked of their first sexual experience.
The men listened raptly. They might have been jealous, but a female in
complete innocence lay right before them, offering herself, with her
legs apart and her tits adorned and stiffly ready. Then, with all
aroused, the women were encouraged to kneel up on the table, leaving
their seats. Kate squealed as she felt herself licked by female
tongues. They were quiet admirers of her beauty, these women, softly
licking her like obedient cats having a treat. But Kate could barely
restrain herself. She squirmed and laughed and gritted her teeth and
then exploded out her breath in a squealing laugh.
She was so happy! The woman worked at her body appreciatively,
as if she were as big as they were, and worthy. Yet she wondered if the
men, upping the women’s skirts from behind, were looking at her or at
the newly revealed bottoms of their paramours. As Kate felt the
kitten-like tongues of the women lick off the icing from her breasts,
and then stay to suckle the little mounds, while other female tongues
ate her cherry and invaded her slit, small sounds of pleasure erupted
from those that were eating her. The women were being fucked! Kate
turned her head this way and that, when the tongues did not make her
giggle, and watched in amazement, close to the action at last, not
spying from a distance, as the women were plowed by their lovers.
When the lovers turned to copulation, Kate was left to lie
alone on the table. She was licked clean but her pussy burned for
attention. She bucked her hips. She hoped someone would give her
something for it. The man she’d seen in the doorway came to her,
ignoring the women, or finished with them. He got on the table and
dipped his stubbled face between her legs and began to lick.
Kate howled with pleasure. All around her she could hear the
women being fucked, screaming out their delight, as she herself was
chastely fucked in her slit by the tongue of this stranger. He invaded
her and teased her hymen and tried pressing past it with his tongue. He
made her thrash in her bonds on the table as he found her spot and
attacked it with his mouth as if she were a full-grown woman.
At last Kate’s aunt came and pulled him away. Over an hour had
gone by, with him paying attention to just her bare licked-clean pussy.
Now the couples had been satisfied, losing at least the edge of their
passion to each other, and it was time to entertain them with Kate’s
spanking.
Kate was amazed to see her aunt completely nude. Her bare
breasts swung over Kate’s face, just inches from her mouth and her
wide-eyes, as her aunt, kneeling up on the table, worked to untie Kate.
She got an up-close view of her aunt’s bottom as the woman turned and
freed Kate’s feet, still on her knees on the table as if she were a dog.
With her aunt properly seated in a cushioned dining chair, Kate
was put over her aunt’s knees. She gazed at the man who’d licked her.
He had an awesome penis, though it was somewhat reduced in size due to
some expenditure he’d recently made, it still impressed her. Kate
wished he would spank her, to give her some dignity, but instead her
aunt began paddling her. At first Kate tried sucking her thumb to
ignore the pain and to keep from crying out, but she couldn’t hold
herself back for long.
When it was over Kate was sent upstairs. She had to go
herself. Her aunt would not take her. Kate was forced to leave the
dining room, her aunt glaring after her, frightening her with a sudden
change of mood. Kate’s bottom was all burny and red and she felt
humiliated. Yet she knew that somewhere behind her the man who’d licked
her was even now watching with a deep and perverted appreciation,
perhaps awe, as Kate danced from the room, her eyes crying and her
asscheeks jiggling like they’d just jumped up from a hot stove.
Kate awoke and realized it had all been a dream. She was 19,
not 9. The maid was tugging at her and she was forced to rise, still
handcuffed. The maid helped her down from the table.
Kate spent the day sleeping. At the Point it was none to
difficult to get one’s sleep cycle reversed. The nights were a long
festival of fucking, the days were a quiet time, with barely a footstep
to be heard. At noontime Gilda came to Kate’s bedroom and woke her to
inspect her bottom. Finding its condition acceptable, Gilda introduced
a new, large dildo up Kate’s ass. She secured it with a strap around
Kate’s waist and, after locking it, so that Kate couldn’t remove it, a
kind of chastity belt in reverse, she let Kate go back to sleep.
That afternoon as Kate slept she dreamed of Ben. She realized
in her dream how deeply she loved him. She reminded him of her father,
who had died when she was a little girl, except he was more demanding of
her than her father had been. She had always felt guilty about her
father’s death. He had been killed in an accident but she felt she was
somehow responsible. So it was an easy thing, later in the day when she
awoke to a crashing of furniture, and found Ben bleeding in the hall,
and his visitors standing over him, mobsters, for her to accept that she
must be sold to save him. She was taken to the airport by him and he
flew on the long flight with her to Arabia, where the Sultan waited to
purchase her. She was relieved of her anal plug before travelling. She
would have to be sold as she was, still unsure of herself, still
untested and untrained in many ways.
At the airport in Arabia Ben kissed her and told promised her
he’d buy her back from the Sultan as soon as he got the money. Then he
left, and she was with a man representing the Sultan, all by herself in
a foreign country. She wore a short black dress and black stockings and
had her hair pinned up to show off her lovely face. The man, unmoved,
or not showing any appreciation for her if he felt it, ordered her to
his car. She was put by herself in the back seat of his car and he
cuffed her hands behind her before going to the front of the car and
getting behind the wheel. He drove her through the darkness. There was
no moon, just a brilliant splattering of stars across the night sky that
grew as brilliant as diamonds as they left the International Airport
behind and passed quickly into the wasteland of an Arabian desert.
Carefully watered bushes and trees gave way instantly, at the airport’s
exit, to an unwatered sea of dark rolling sand dunes.
Kate sat quietly in the back of the car. She tested her
handcuffs and found them securely locked. She was not gagged, at least,
and it relieved her that she was allowed at least that liberty. She
tried sitting back and crossing her legs. It was awkward, doing it in
handcuffs, but she managed. She felt a certain sense of welcome privacy
with her thighs crossed. But her skirt was short and the starlight from
the stars bathed her black-stockinged legs in a soft white glow.
Kate was surprised she hadn’t been blindfolded but, in thinking
on it, realized there would be little need of it. The desert was
faceless. As the car wound on a road that quickly turned to bare dirt,
Kate found her sense of direction getting away from her. What she’d
hoped to be an intuitive sense within herself of ‘that way from the
airport’ became a hopeless jumble as the road twisted among the dunes,
crossed other small roads, and passed between a ridge of high cliffs.
The car arrived at the Sultan’s palace perhaps an hour after
they’d left the airport. Kate had worn a watch but the Sultan’s pick-up
man had taken it from her at the airport. Now, glancing at her legs and
sitting neatly cuffed in the back seat, Kate felt the walls of the
palace enclose her as the driver entered into the palace’s courtyard. A
servant in a red tunic ran to the door of the car and opened it as soon
as the car had stopped. He let out the driver and then, going to the
back of the car, he opened Kate’s door and helped her out. Standing on
a surface of smooth-beaten sand in her black pumps, She awkwardly
smoothed her dress down over her bottom with her cuffed hands.
Kate was led into the palace. She wanted to stare at the walls
and the carved statues and the paintings and the hanging plants, but she
was escorted like a late visitor directly to a bedroom within the
palace.
The driver who’d met her at the airport disappeared. Instead
she was turned over to a middle-aged woman. Kate tried to smile at the
woman to gain her favor but the woman barely looked at her. She was
past her prime in looks, once beautiful but now a little plump, but with
large breasts. Her hips matched her bosoms in size. She had dark skin,
like an Arab woman, but when she spoke to Kate there was a trace of a
British accent in her voice.
“Undress completely,” the woman said to Kate, standing with her
in the bedroom. She unlocked the handcuffs so Kate could comply. As
Kate undressed, the woman watched her. When Kate was bare, forced even
to remove her panties and her stockings, the woman seized Kate’s face
and opened Kate’s mouth and inspected her teeth. Then, just as
unsympathetically, she gave Kate’s breasts a quick exam. Then she had
Kate lie down on the bed and she opened Kate’s legs and did a pap
smear. She got Kate up off the bed and went to a dresser against the
wall and opened it.
“Bathe yourself in the bathroom. Then put this on,” the woman
told Kate. She dropped a tiny black panty onto the bed. Kate waited
for more clothes to be offered but, standing with her arms wrapped
around her middle, she realized the panty was the only item of clothing
she would wear. “After your bath someone will come to do your nails and
your hair,” the darkskinned woman said to Kate. “And you will be given
new shoes. Don’t delay in the bath. The Sultan will be eager to meet
his new guest. I trust you know how to be pleasing for a man?”
“Y-Yes,” Kate stammered.
The woman turned away without saying anything more. She left
the room and locked the door. Kate went to the bedroom’s adjoining
bathroom. She had to pee and she was glad she hadn’t been forced to ask
permission. As she sat relieving herself she wondered what would become
of her. Was she doing this for Ben? Or to fill some unearthly sexual
need within herself? Or, perhaps, to punish herself for her father’s
untimely death? As she listened to her pee hit the water in the toilet
she tried not to think of where she was or what might happen to her.
She prayed the Sultan would be a wise, forgiving man. The alternative
could leave her little more than a walking cunt.
Kate was taken to meet the Sultan. She wore only new heels
that were given to her by a servant, and the panties laid out for her.
Yet her nails were gleaming and highly polished and her hair was
breathtaking. It had been transformed from a long but ordinary mane
into a sensual cascase of loose curls that hung round her face and down
her bare back.
At dinner she sat alone with the Sultan, except for servants in
chador-like robes who served them. All the servants were male. Their
features and their physiques were completely hidden by their robes.
Only the Sultan was dressed normally, as a man might be in such an area,
wearing a small turban on his head and a glittering tunic bound round
his waist with a red sash Unfortunately, he was a fat and physically
repulsive man. But he was gracious to her. As he ate and watched her
eat, sitting topless across from him, he encouraged Kate to tell of her
classes at college and what she’d learned in them. He appeared to
listen attentivley as she described the intracicies of British literary
theory compared to American theory. She explained the declining of
nouns in French to him. She gave him her opinions about American
politics. Yet, all the while, she couldn’t escape the thought that he
had a sinister gleam in his eyes, and he looked entirely too much of the
time at the swaying of her naked young breasts.
Kate was famished from her long flight and the inedible
airplane food which she hadn’t been able to eat, yet she nibbled at her
food as she ate with the Sultan, for she felt a growing sense of fear
about her situation. He was certainly not a man who had anything to
offer her, except his servants and the wealth of his palace. But so far
she’d been given little sense that she’d have any say in how either was
used.
The Sultan encouraged her to eat. He told her she needed the
food, because she’d want lots of energy.
The meal drew to a close and Kate was offered dessert. She
thought of declining, to keep her weight proper, but remembered the
Sultan’s warning about energy and decided to indulge. As she ate a big
slice of chocolate cream-covered pie the Sultan asked, “And in the arts
of Love, my dear, are you as skilled in those as you are in your french
declensions?”
Kate nodded uneasily with a faceful of cake in her mouth. “So
good. It is so good,” the Sultan said. He ate his dessert with relish,
though he looked as if he would only add it to his waistline, for his
every movement was flaccid, as if he feared exerting himself might bring
an end to his kingdom.
When Kate had been fed the Sultan rose up from his chair and
beckoned Kate into another room. There, in a kind of sitting room,
stood his Arabian mistress, the one who had given Kate her panties.
Kate had learned to call her Mistress. Nothing else, no name after it,
just ‘Mistress.’ Beside Mistress stood a small quiet blonde. She
looked to be Kate’s age and she wore only panties also, but white ones,
in contrast to the black ones Kate had been given. As Kate walked up to
her, accompanied by the Sultan, she realized she was the same height as
the girl. They might have been twin sisters, for the girl’s hair was
curled like Kate’s, though a bit fluffier, and she had bosoms as big as
Kate’s, with a matching wasp waistline and trim hips. Kate’s bottom had
healed from her master’s punishment and, blushingly looking her new
acquaintance over, at the Sultan’s insistance, she found that the girl
had a bottom as round and pretty and white as her own was.
“You’ll both share a horsey ride tonight,” the Sultan said in
his broken English. The blonde looked down at her feet. Kate wondered
if she shoudn’t ask for more clothes. She did not like the idea of
having to ride a horse in just her panties.
“May we be permitted blouses then?” Kate asked, summoning up
all her courage, for the Sultan was taller than her and intimidated her
with his eyes and his girth.
The Sultan laughed.
“You must take your panties off!” the Sultan said finally,
after his laughter subsided.
“Oh,” Kate replied.
“But first you must have a tour of my castle,” the Sultan
said. “Keep your panties on for now. I do not wish for my servants to
see all your charms, as I will.”
The Sultan’s servants entered, big burly men who nonetheless
wore chador-like robes to hide their physiques from the girls. They
were bigger servants than Kate had seen before. She wondered if they
were going to be used to make her submit. Instead, they presented a
pallet for the Sultan to sit in, covered with cushions. When he had
seated himself they hoisted him up on their shoulders. It took four
large men to carry him.
Lightly the Sultan raised a finger. “Come, my dears,” he
beckoned Kate and the blonde girl beside her. “You have seen my palace,
Debbi, but it is always good for you to see it again, so you can admire
the place of your ‘captivity,’ as you call it. Come, both of you. Try
to keep your panties out of your asses if you can. I’d like to preserve
a little of your modesty in front of my servants.”
Kate reached back behind herself as she began to walk. She dug
within her bottomcrack with her nails and did her best to obey. The
panties were very small and covered just a little more than half her
ass, then dipped into her her cheeks at the first opportunity, because
they consisted of such a small bit of fabric. She had long since given
them up as a lost cause but now, walking quickly behind the Sultan, she
plucked at them and tried to get them to sit neatly on her cheeks
without disappearing within them. Debbi did the same. Mistress
followed, with a riding crop in her hand, which Kate hoped was solely
for application to the rumps of the horses the Sultan had said she and
Debbi would ride.
The servants walked with a quick stride. The Sultan showed off
the massive walls of his palace and the flowering gardens that were
permitted to bloom within them, with the harsh arid desert just outside,
forever threatening to intrude should the palace lose access to its
trucked-in supply of water. The girls admired the Sultan’s caste as
best they could, Debbi remaining quite subdued, however, as if she
feared their ride that they would take together later in the evening.
Kate tried to remain upbeat. Being imprisoned in a beautiful manly
castle was not the worst of fates.
The tour ended in a small room. When Mistress flicked on its
lights, Kate found herself gasping as loudly as she had at Marie’s, when
she first began experimenting with unusual sex. Within the room was
every possible implement and machine of torture.
“Do Do you interrogate prisoners here?” Kate asked hopefully,
and turned as if to leave.
“No, I give girls horsey rides here,” the Sultan said. His
four servants lowered him to the floor. “Frieda, show the girls their
horse and have them remove their panties and mount it,” the Sultan said
from his cushioned seat upon his pallet on the floor.
The girls were taken by Mistress across the room. As they
walked with quick anxious steps, their bare limbs flashing, the Sultan
was helped to his feet by his servants. It took him much effort to
rise, nonetheless, and he grunted as he finally balanced himself on his
feet, swaying like a big air balloon that was too heavy to take off.
Kate found herself staring at a ‘horse’ that consisted of a
inverted vee of wood. It stood as high as her breasts. As she gazed at
it she was still trying to straighten her panties behind herself, for
the umpteenth time, when Mistress premptorily told her to remove them.
Anxiously and with trembling hands, Kate slipped her panties
down her legs. Debbi was required to do likewise. Bending forward and
showing a fine display of twin dangling tits, the girls carefully
removed their panties from their tangling stiletto heels and gave them
to Mistress. She took each pair and, as the girls watched, mortified,
she tore them. She ripped out the little pouch that had formed the
crotch of each girl’s panties so that they could never usefully be worn
again. Then she tossed them on the floor.
“Get on the horse,” she snarled. She kicked a stepstool
forward. Kate was required to bend and place it next to the ‘horse.’
“But there’s nothing to SIT on,” Kate objected.
“Do as she says,” the Sultan ordered. His servants stood
around him with crossed arms.
Fearfully Kate stepped up onto the stepstool. Debbie gave her
bottom a helpful push from behind, as if worried that they’d both be
punished if they didn’t quickly mount up. Kate swung her leg over the
horse and looked down at the inverted vee of wood below her. Some
helpful person had a least covered it with a strip of soft fuzzy fur.
Gingerly Kate sat herself down and immediately felt her cuntlips splurge
upon and actually engulf the inverted vee of the horse, it was so
narrow. Debbie stepped up behind her as she tried vainly to accomodate
herself to such a narrow seat. It cut maliciously into her lips, as if
some punishment made for her by a vengeful mother, wishing her daughter
would remain virginal but contenting herself at last to see her
daughter’s lips spread apart and left without anything to drive up them,
just an everlasting pressure.
Debbi, looking resigned, sat herself down on the saddle-less
horse. She let out a small cry of dismay as she felt the wedge of the
horse drive itself between her nether lips. Kate looked at the girl’s
sighing mouth and, strangely, told herself the girl had very pretty
lips. Her well-formed breasts wiggled like loose beach balls on her
chest. Beneath them her ribs stood out in skinny splendor, count-able,
though Kate was in no mood to count them for her own ribs were just as
visible. Her belly hollowed itself between her ribs and her hips. She
placed her hands on the wedge of wood between herself and Debbi for
support but immediately Mistress scolded her.
“Give me your wrists!” Mistress told Kate. She grabbed both
Kate’s hands and expertly swept them back. Even as she did this, one of
the Sultan’s faceless servants strode forward and grabbed hold of Debbi
and did the same to her.
Kate’s arms were drawn back so that they stuck out behind her
like a high-placed tail. They were roped to a post just beyond the end
of the horse. There was a post behind Debbi’s end of the horse and she
was similarly fastened. Both girls found themselves forced to lean
slightly forward, showing their breasts to each other. Indeed, their
bosoms touched and they found their nipples, sticking out starkly,
rubbing against each other. A small jolt ran through both girls as they
felt the nippled teats touch.
Debbi tossed her head back and then allowed herself a small
smile. Lustily she began rubbing her stiff titties against Kate’s. At
the same time she bucked a little on the uncomfortable vee that cut into
her cunt. The motion made her sigh a quivering sigh and she repeated
it.
“Don’t just sit there. Put some energy into your horsey ride!”
Mistress declared to Kate. Promptly she sent her riding crop snapping
down against Kate’s pushed-back, offered bottom. The rod hit her bare
flesh and she bounced her rump upon the vee. The wedge cut into her
more insistently and more deeply.
Debbi licked her lips. She looked as if she were trying to
ignore the painful pressure of the wooden vee in her cunt. Boldly,
obediently, she bounced herself upon the insidious horse. Kate tried
copying her and found the vee and the rubbing of her tits against
Debbi’s to be a strange mixture. Pain within her private, a guilty
pleasure at the tips of her tits. She found herself licking her lips.
She tried her best to be pleasing to the Sultan. Mistress gave her rump
another slap of encouragement and told her to put her heart and soul
into it. Kate had no doubt her soul was into the ride--it was
practically impaled on it!
Kate’s only consolation was that her ordeal was being watched
by the two massive guards. They were deeply tanned, or darkskinned, she
couldn’t tell which. Their hair might have betrayed their race but it
was bound up in a large turban. As if sensing that Kate and her fellow
rider found satisfaction in the presence of the guards, the Sultan told
them to leave.
“These two aren’t thinking of me, they’re thinking of you!
Begone, swine! Send two slave girls who know how to admire and obey me
to replace you. Althea, and Susie! They’ll better handle these girls
than you two laggards. I’ll not have my guards and my prisoners sharing
glances and smiles.
The guards shuffled themselves from the room, completely
obedient to the Sultan. Kate, disappointed, slowed her rubbing and
bucking on the wedge-topped horse.
“Faster! Faster! Now you’ll perform for the Sultan, instead
of for his guards!” Mistress cried. Her crop sang into Kate’s soft
bulbing bottom with a hard smack. Kate threw back her head at the
sharpness of the pain. All her life she had covered her pussy with soft
cotton. Now it was bare and being rudely cut into by a malicious thin
wedge of wood. And her bottom, always cupped and held by sheathing
cotton, was bare and split by the wood. Its twin pumpkin-halves showed
themselves salaciously to Mistress. They seemed to taunt her with their
high aspect and their satiny-white surface. Vengefully she gave them
every biting cut of the crop that her heart desired. She’d served the
Sultan well for many years, yet month after month new girls were brought
to his palace. He preferred their slim pony-like legs to hers, he liked
their small, still-growing breasts, he craved their young bodies and
their innocent faces. So she got her revenge on the Sultan the only way
she could, by punishing the naughty young things who’d somehow permitted
themselves to fall into his clutches.
“Ride, Debbi, ride!” Mistress exhorted the English girl. She
moved behind Debbi’s hindquarters. Kate gave a sigh of relief but,
staring into Debbi’s eyes, she saw the girl’s breath catch with fear. A
moment later Debbi’s pain was magnified tenfold. In addition to the
cutting of the wedge, she now had a hungry crop to contend with. It bit
into her bottom as lustily as a nest of hornets. Her pretty fanny, so
white a moment before, now bore the visitations of the crop across it.
At least if Mistress could not be young and beautiful, she could ruin
those who were, or so it seemed, Kate thought, watching Debbi’s
responses. Tears welled into Debbi’s eyes and she fought hard to
maintain herself in the face of all her torments. Her hair was still
lovely and her makeup was waterproof. Her breasts were untouched save
for the careless, agonized brushing of her teats against Kate’s. Her
tummy was soft and childlike, yet withdrawn into a hollow beneath her
ribs, she was so beautifully thin. And her hips, while flaring slightly
to show her readiness for sex, were schoolgirlishly appealing. Her legs
hung down from the vee like a newborn horse’s, slim and barely fatted,
with just enough weight to them to make men’s mouths water at the
prospect of getting them open.
And now she was open, mounted on an infuriating horse that had
no seat. She could only squirm atop the wedge, her legs dangling down.
Haplessly she pressed her knees into the sloping sides of the wooden
wedge. She lifted her cunt slightly off the wedge, giving it a moment’s
relief. But then her knees lost their purchase on the sides of the
horse and she fell back down again, shoving the wedge into her cunt.
“No! Oh, please!” Debbi begged Mistress. But her pleadings
for relief only inspired Mistress to hit her harder. With nobody in the
room but Mistress and the fat Sultan, all Debbi’s sexual contortions
went unadmired, as far as she was concerned. She was being hurt and
ruined to no end, with only a short fat little man watching, standing in
a corner masturbating. She’d dreamed of stripping in London bars,
showing herself salaciously to men, teasing them with her young, untried
body. Yet no sooner had she taken down her panties for the first time
in London than she’d found herself aboard a plane, bound for Arabia with
a smooth businessman who’d assured her that he’d care for her for the
rest of her life. Instead he sold her at the airport. And now she was
here, performing privately for an ogre of a man who was so unmanly, so
short and fat and effeminate, that she might as well have been
performing for nobody.
“Ohhhh, I can’t bear it!” Debbi whined. With relish Mistress
gave her saucy bottom yet another smack.
“You must exercise every day, Debbi,” Mistress chided her.
“Except here at the Sutan’s it is sexual exercise. And you’re most
likely to do it at night, not in the morning.”
Mistress stepped back and fetched a bottle of baby oil from a
nearby table. “Are you feeling your cunt lips spread apart by the
wedge?” she asked the girls.
“Yes it burns!” Debbi cried.
“Such soft fur,” Mistress commented. She placed a fingertip on
the surface of the wooden wedge. It had a strip of fur lining its top.
“But I guess if you’re a hussey and you rub yourself against it a lot it
might burn after awhile,” Mistress smiled at Debbi. With a glance to
her right she saw that Kate was as indisposed as her friend. “Let me
oil it down a bit for you girls,” Mistress said. “Since you still have
far to ride.” She urged them to lift their cunts and, pressing their
knees valiantly to the sides of the horse both girls managed to lift up
their cunnies and hold them aloft. Liberally Mistress soaked the fur
strip beneath them with baby oil. Then, collapsing back down upon the
fur, the girls were forced to rub themselves upon it.
“Show some spunk, girls!” Kate heard from over her shoulder.
She glanced back behind herself to see two young women stalk into the
room. They were each perhaps 21-years-old, a year or two older than
Kate and Debbi. They were dressed as if for a night of club hopping,
though Kate doubted they ever ventured out past the Sultan’s palace
walls. Each wore a tube-like dress that sheathed her body. It was
riotously short, barely covering her bottom. It molded the curves of
each girl’s body, clinging to her skin, showing everything it pretended
to hide. The girls had large breasts that bounced freely. Below their
ample bosoms their waists were slender as wasp’s. The hips of each girl
offered themselves like toys; doll hips to be held wiggling in a man’s
grasp and uncovered. The two females each wore long black boots that
hugged their legs right up to their knees. The boots covered their
knees in front but dipped down in back to allow them movement. Each
boot was laced behind the knee with black strings.
Like dancers preparing for a performance, the two newcomers,
one a brunette and the other a redhead, fluffed back their hair and
approached the horsed girls. Althea, the brunette, claimed Kate. Susie
claimed Debbi.
Althea bent forward and kissed Kate’s cheek. This caused her
dress to slip up in back, showing her bottom to the Sultan. She did not
try to pull it back down after she’d kissed Kate. Instead she put her
hands to work cupping Kate’s breasts and squeezing them.
“You must give your all in performing for the Sultan,” Althea
whispered to Kate, bending and kissing her again. “Don’t hold back.
Give him everything. You’ll find freedom in it if you do. Despite
being a captive.” Like a young girl plucking at fruit with her lips,
Althea bent and wiggled her tongue between Kate’s stiff nippled breasts
and Debbi’s. She licked at both girl’s teats. They were close enough
to touch and she delighted in licking both a teat of Kate’s and a teat
of Debbi’s at the same time. Then, turning her head to Kate, she
mouthed Kate’s nearest breast like a child trying to gorge itself.
“Mmmm! Mmmmm! So sweet!” Althea gasped. She suckled hard on
Kate’s breast. Kate wondered, gasping under the assault, if Althea had
missed having milk at dinner. Even as she found herself enlisted to
nourish Althea, despite her inability to do so, having never been
pregnant, Susie went round behind the horse and attacked from the other
side.
“Oh, Godddd!” Debbi whined as her closest breast to Susie
became an impromptu feast. Both riders found themselves taunted to new
heights. Even as Mistress kept up the biting patter of the crop on
their bottoms, their bosoms were bitten and sucked. Every curve the
girls had ever flaunted was now being eaten alive. As the crop scorched
their fannies Susie and Althea fed at their nipples. And still they
were urged to rub themselves hard on the deep-cutting wood, the wedge
that split their virginal pussies. Each stroke of the crop reminded
them to lift themselves with their knees, pressing hard into the sides
of the sloping horse, and buck up and forward. Each forward thrust was
yanked back in turn by the position of their arms, bound behind them,
looking straight as arrows plunged right into their backs.
Despite all their sexy movements the girls were denied what
they needed most. A cock. A long thick hard cock driven straight up
inside them. Instead, rubbing themselves on the wedge, they could only
dream of the guards, long gone, replaced by females like themselves.
Neither girl looked in the direction of the Sultan. From his effeminate
groans it was obvious he had himself unzippered and was pleasuring
himself. But they knew his organ was as short as he was, and as
unfulfilling almost as the barren wedge itself.
“Come down, girls! Come down!” the Sultan urged from the
corner of the room. Kate glanced at him and saw that he’d relieved
himself in his hand. Althea went running over to the Sultan and knelt
before him and took his hand and licked it clean.
Mistress helped Kate get down from the horse. Susie
dismounted Debbi. Kate found herself barely able to stand. Her cunt
was aflame, red from too much rubbing. Her thighs felt chafed. She
prayed that Mistress would bend down and take off her heels to let her
stand barefoot on the floor, but instead Mistress offered her only a
hard slap on her bottom.
“Stand up straight, girl!” Mistress barked. Kate wept openly.
Through her tears she looked down at her breasts. They heaved with her
every shivering sob. She could see hickeys on them where Althea had
been too enthusiastic in her suckling. Her belly was untouched but she
wondered for how long. A single emission of seed would swell her with
some man’s child; a guard’s perhaps, or a visitor’s, or the Sultan’s.
She hadn’t been given a Pill since she’d arrived. She doubted she would
be. She was a doll, to be played with and used and then filled. She
would bear children for the House of Saud. She was a vessel. They
would fill her with their seed. She would give them young. She would
nourish their young with her breasts.
Stumbling, crying like children, yet feeling somehow womanly in
her suffering, Kate was brought along with Debbi over to the Sultan. He
inspected them with his eyes. He seemed to savor the condition of their
breasts. He eyed their soft indrawn tummies avariciously. He smiled
with amusment at how both girls stood before him sobbing, clutching back
behind themselves at their swollen wounded bottoms.
“You girls look like you want to poop!” the Sultan laughed.
“Very well. You’ve had your dinner and now it’s time for you to poop.
You’ll both ‘make a salad,’ as we say, in this little room. Fetch the
castor oil, Mistress!” He spoke to her as a man does to a wife who is a
mother, Kate thought, calling her Mom.
Mistress produced a large bottle of castor oil out. Kate
noticed that she’d fetched it from a table where condoms and oils and
perfumes lay, as if it were just another part of sex, not some awful
nasty drink that made you go to the bathroom. Mistress poured the oil
into two shot glasses. Then she turned the former riders to face each
other and gave each a glass.
“Serve your friend, not yourself. We’re intimate here,”
Mistress told Kate and Debbi. Reluctantly Kate held out her glass to
Debbi’s lips even as Debbi reciprocated.
Debbi extended her tongue and licked the rim of the Kate’s
glass. “Drink,” was all Kate could think to say, and she put the glass
to Debbi’s lips and forced it’s contents into her mouth.
“Glub, glub, glub,” Kate heard Debbi swallow, sounding like a
little child in preschool, even as Kate was made to swallow Debbi’s
drink herself.
“Oooooh! It’s awful!” Debbi cried just as soon as she could.
She tore her mouth from Kate’s empty glass. She twisted her face from
side to side, flinging her lovely curled hair all about her. Kate found
herself compelled to do the same. The Castor Oil had a vile taste and
she’d just managed to get it down, fearing the crop still in Mistress’s
hand. Both girls coughed and wheezed and tensed their bottoms, fearing
already what must result.
It was at that moment that the door to the punishment cell
opened and a man entered. He had a woman with him, and another man
entered behind him, also with a woman on his arm. Both men were
gallantly dressed in tuxedos and their females looked smashing, wearing
long dresses patterned with sequins.
Kate felt mortified. She had just resigned herself, mentally,
to the worst; pooping in front of the perverted little Sultan. Now,
when she least wanted to be observed by any men she might like, they
appeared, looking elegant as could be, with women in attendance whom she
knew wouldn’t be undressing.
“Oh, this is awful!” Debbi blurted. She was standing with her
striped well-punished bottomcheeks huddled together. Nervously she
shifted from foot to foot. She knew at any moment she’d feel a sudden
need to have a B/M. There was no toilet in sight, just the floor,
polished wood, and her bare bottom. Men in tuxedoes, men she might have
loved if she’d had the chance, stood gazing at her with questing eyes,
with beautifully dressed women beside them.
“You wanted to strip,” the Sultan teased Debbi. The man who’d
sold her had told him about her. “Despite the wishes of your parents,
or perhaps to spite their wishes, you decided to strip in a London bar.
All that money your dear parents spent to send you uniformed every day
to an all-girl’s high school, and what do you do? You get up naked on a
stage and take off everything, even your panties! Well now you’re truly
stripped, and striped! And next, to see that you continue your physical
education at least, we are going to have you do squats.”
To Debbi and Kate’s horror they were turned so that their bare
asses faced the newly arrived guests. Althea, her own bottom showing,
due to the lifting of her dress, grabbed at Kate’s hands. Althea at
least got to face the guests with her face, but Kate, facing Althea, had
to stand with her bottom to them. It was the same for Debbi. Susie
grabbed her hands. Then, at a command from the Sultan, both Kate and
Debbi were required to bend their knees and squat down.
“Oh! It hurrrts!” Debbi cried as her skin tautened. Her
wounded bottomflesh hardly wished to be streched further by bending.
“Down, then up. Down, then up!” Susie commanded Debbi. The
poor little blonde was forced to stoop, showing her cuntlips between
splayed thighs, then loft her ass up again, straightening her legs.
Then it was down again, Kate beside her doing the same.
“Oh please it hurts and I’m going to POOP!” Kate begged. She
felt like a small child being potty trained, except she was being
trained in reverse, with the floor as her potty now.
“They are so young. Would the king aprove?” a woman asked the
Sultan. She seemed jealous, or offended at the sexuality of such young
female slaves.
“It matters not what the king thinks when it is happening in my
palace!” the Sultan answered. In deference to his guests he’d zipped
himself up again. He strode back behind Kate and Debbi and inspected
their bottoms with lurid interest. “One girl will give us her American
shit, the other girl her nice English shit,” he laughed. “But really, I
expect them both to exercise bottom-control. They should not shit on
the floor, should they, mistress?”
“Bathroom time will be at the end of exercise, not in the
middle of it,” mistress said with a glowering, knowing smile.
“Oh, I can feel it coming!!” Debbi shouted.
“What, you’re yelling something about your bowels?” mistress
asked with fake indignity.
“Oh, I can too! I can’t stop ittt!” Kate yelped.
Suddenly, as if giving birth to twin little babies, both Kate
and Debbi began oozing big turds from their backside.
“My, they’re through digesting their dinner already,” the
Sultan said.
SPLAT! SPLAT!
“Two turds for Judge Bork,” the Sultan crowed. He bent and
sniffed at them, and Kate and Debbi, urged to stand and then to squat
again, gave him two more. A sudden gush of fluid followed.
“Such a mess. They’ll have to clean it,” the Sultan said.
“Get a bucket and brushes for them, mistress. I’ll not have poop on my
floor!”
Althea let go of one of Kate’s hands when Kate had stood up
again. She passed it through the long, still lovely locks of Kate’s
golden-blonde hair.
“Are you finished?” Althea asked Kate.
“I-I think so,” Kate replied. “Although I’m not really in
control anymore.” Swiftly, to keep from splattering her thighs, she
suddenly sqatted down again, without any encouragement from Althea. She
gritted her teeth at the pain of the stretched crop marks on her
bottom. Then she passed out yet another turd. After waiting a moment,
she rose again. Althea bent forward and kissed her lips.
“You did very well,” Althea said. “Don’t worry. I’ll train
you and protect you as best I can. And,” she added, lifting an erect
finger. “When we have a private moment together I’ll give you what you
crave. I can’t offer you a penis, of course, but Susie tells me I’m
pretty handy with my finger. I’ll shove it up you and do my best to
pleasure you.”
“You mean--?” Kate gasped.
“You’ll get no pleasure from the Sultan,” Althea said. “Just
torment. But I’ll bring you off when he’s not around. Unless you’ve
been chosen to be a mother, you’ll find cocks are few and far between at
the castle. He doesn’t just castrate his eunuchs. He removes their
dicks.”
“You mean--?!” Kate gasped anew. Her mind flew to the two
dismissed guards.
“Useless as girls,” Althea replied.
“I can’t believe it!” Kate shouted. Then she clapped a hand to
her mouth lest the Sultan overhear.
“What’s with this whispering? Are you done, Kate? Then down
on your knees! I’ll cut your nipples off if I find you planning any
disobedience!” The voice was that of Mistress but the Sultan, hearing
her, turned his attention from the poop the girls had made to their
faces. Behind him one of the newly arrived women was complaining again
about how young the girls were.
“They are fine young things, and both nineteen!” the Sultan
declared to the woman.
“And too young to drink, yet look what you have them doing!”
the woman retorted.
“Ever since the Americans came to ‘liberate’ Kuwait you women
have got bad new ideas in your heads,” the Sultan growled. “Next thing
you know you’ll be driving automobiles.”
“Within the walls a woman may speak freely,” the woman
answered.
“Not if they’re MY walls!” the Sultan screamed. “Begone,
woman! I’d have more peace with Hillary than with you. She at least
doesn’t let her feminist theories intrude on her husband’s pleasures.”
“My apologies, Sultan,” one of the finely dressed men in
tuxedoes said. He bowed slightly to show deference.
“You need better advice on picking a wife,” the Sultan told
him.
“I shall remove her impure mind from your presence,” the man
said.
“Have her read the Koran. She must learn to keep her nose out
of a man’s affairs,” the Sultan replied.
As one wife was taken from the room the other, perhaps more
obedient to Allah, stepped forward and bent down and sniffed at the
turds the girls had made.
“I always wanted to smell English turds,” she mused. “They
smell just like an Arabians’.”
“Lovely training session you’ve got going here,” the remaining
guest, whose name was Faisal, said to the Sultan.
“They cost me a pretty penny,” the Sultan answered. “But as
long as Allah provides, I shall spend his wealth wisely, importing white
girls and teaching them Arab ways.”
“Indeed. With enough oil, we could bring all of them to heel,”
Faisal agreed.
“But only if we are united,” the Sultan answered. “We must
unite under one flag! All the Arabs!”
“But whose?” Faisal asked.
“Well, mine’s handy,” the Sultan grinned. He unzipped himself
again and produced a small but sturdy erection.
“Oh, Sultan! Are you ready to go again! So soon?” Althea
gushed. Kate could not tell whether her interest was real or feigned.
“I am always ready to celebrate your beauty, my lovely
captive,” the Sultan said to Althea. She rushed over to him and knelt
before him and began sucking upon him with her mouth.
“She craves to put it in her cunt, but I won’t allow it. They
stay friskier that way,” the Sultan smiled at Faisal. Then the Sultan
grimaced as he felt his seed rise. Simultaneously, Faisal was
approached by Susie. She walked politely up to him and placed her hand
on his trousers. Delicately she undid his zipper. Then, finding no
protest from him, or his wife, she knelt and liberated his cock and
began sucking it. The man’s wife clapped her hand to the back of
Susie’s head and forced her to take more of him than she’d intended.
Kate, meanwhile, was turned about by mistress and handcuffed.
She felt surprised, looking down at her poop and wondering how she could
clean it up with her hands bound behind her. When mistress had cuffed
Kate she did the same to Debbi. Neither girl had the heart to resist.
Both felt utterly dominated, their hair hanging down around their face,
their bosoms free and wobbling and marked by hickeys, their bottoms
woefully sore and their cunts raw and dripping.
“Open your mouth,” mistress told Debbi. The girl parted her
lips and then, at a prodding from mistress, she showed her teeth. To
her great surprise mistress presented her with a scrub brush. She
wedged it between Debbi’s teeth. There were leads attached to it and
mistress bound these behind Debbi’s head, in the soft mane of her long
blonde hair.
Debbi was a human scrub brush! Kate looked at her and opened
her own mouth and screamed. On her third scream mistress plugged her
open mouth with a brush. Mistress tied the brush behind Kate’s head as
Kate stared at Debbi.
“Down, girls!” Mistress commanded. She pressed a hand to each
girl’s bare shoulder. Unable to resist the pressure, the girls dropped
to their knees. “Put your brushes in the bucket to wet them and then
scrub up your poop!” Mistress commanded. She had a bucket ready and she
plopped it down between the girls. Kate and Debbi looked at the pail.
It was full of cold water. Gingerly, at mistress’s insistence, they
dipped their heads into the bucket and wet their mouth-brushes.
Neither girl seemed able to bend and put her face to the
floor. Mistress scooped up the ends of their blonde manes and held them
like reins. “Now bend down, girls,” Mistress said. Held by their hair,
both Kate and Debbi offered their faces to the poop. To her dismay,
Kate found she was down in Debbi’s pile, while Debbi was tasked with
cleaning up hers.
“Oh, yes!” Faisal shouted. Susie sucked on his cock as he
watched Kate and Debbi face up to the task of scrubbing their poop.
“Don’t cum ‘til they’re finished,” the Sultan urged his
companion.
“It’s so--” Faisal stammered.
“So fine to see an English girl down on the floor in an
American’s shit?” the Sultan asked.
“An Arab’s shit would be better,” Faisal answered.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” the Sultan replied. “I’m feeling a
bit of a need to have a bowel movement myself.”
“Me too!” Faisal answered. His wife laughed. She clutched at
Susie’s breasts and squeezed them hard. Susie gasped but kept Faisal’s
penis clutched within her sucking mouth. She didn’t dare let go of it
or try to control it with Faisal’s wife present. Althea kept at the
Sultan’s cock, sucking it greedily despite its small size.
Kate worked frantically to scrub away Debbi’s shit. She
couldn’t bear the thought of having to clean up after the Sultan. She
rubbed her scrub brush in the pile Debbi had left and then soaked it in
the bucket to get it clean. She and Debbi shared the same pail. When
the water in it became soiled mistress poured the water into a small
vent in a corner and then refilled it at a faucet next to the vent. The
girls were forced to wait while this happened, sitting on their knees,
their heels pressed rudely into their bottoms, their hands cuffed behind
them and their mouths gagged by scrub brushes. Their hair, falling
around them as they worked, showed traces of each other’s shit.
With a new bucket, the girls were back at work again. Their
nipples, hung from bosoms generously large, dragged along the floor when
they bent over to clean it. Kate thanked the Sultan for at least
keeping the floor polished. A bare floor of raw wood, or a stone floor,
would have ripped her poor nipples to shreds.
The Sultan admired the two tail ends of the girls as they
strove to clean up the mess they’d made. Their bottoms, once gloriously
white, now showed the marks of his training. Each girl was wealed, the
marks cutting across her bare cheeks. None of them were severe enough
to leave a permanent mark but all of them were strong enough to keep
both girls on their toes for the next few days, abjuring opportunities
to sit. He gazed with satisfaction at their wounded bottoms and
promised himself to renew their injuries just as soon as the current
marks had faded. Both girls worked eagerly to clean up their shit.
There was no hesitation, no resistence. He’d broken through their first
barriers. Debbi he’d trained a little bit before but now he was really
working her, giving her chores she’d never dreamed of performing, even
at the lewdest club. He longed to take a photo of her and send it to
her parents. “Hi, mom. Hard at work in Saudi Arabia,” it would say.
He laughed to himself. He eased Althea back a little to give himself a
moment’s relief from her tonguing. He felt her breath caress his cock,
waiting.
Kate especially pleased him. He liked having an American girl
do his bidding. Althea was from the Netherlands and Susie from Germany,
but Kate was from the Great Satan, and now here she was, unprotected and
down on her knees scrubbing floors. He would use her, he felt, to bear
children for him. She was small in stature but she had wonderful big
breasts and her waspish waist begged to be enlarged. Yes, he would
stable her. She would be fucked in the hay and made to produce young
for him. He would make her breasts fill with milk from his seed and he
would serve her milk at dinner. 100% Pure American Breast Milk, he’d
boast to his guests, serving it. That would make him king for sure,
serving such fine milk as that to his male guests. ‘And there’s the
girl who produced it,’ he might add, bringing Kate to dinner sometimes,
when she was weary from her day’s work in the stable. He’d sit her
among them in a chiffon dress and let them be teased by her half-hidden
bosoms. Then, when they’d all drunk her milk and the dinner was
finsihed, he’d rip her dress off and they’d spend the night working her,
up on the table with he legs spread wide.
When the girls had finished with the floor the Sultan, showing
remarkable self-control in lasting so long, shot himself into Althea’s
mouth. She drank down his tribute as if it were fine German beer.
Susie, who was herself from Germany, drank down a generous emission from
Faisal. Then the Sultan dismissed him, lest his cock become a source of
admiration for the cock-starved girls. His wife left with him.
Althea and Susie, released from their penile duties, returned
to their young charges. Althea unbound Kate’s mouth and Susie unbound
Debbi’s. Althea gazed down at Kate and laughed at how silly she looked,
with her hands still cuffed behind her, all clean, while her nose and
her cheeks were smeared with shit. There was even shit smeared on her
nipples. Althea wet a cloth under the faucet by the wall, and Susie did
likewise. They wiped off the girls’ faces. The water was cold but the
girls welcomed it. The cloths were rinsed and then their nipples were
attended to.
“I am through with you for this evening,” the Sultan said to
the girls. “Expect to sit with me at dinner tomorrow evening. Or
stand, as you may prefer,” he smirked. “Althea and Susie, see that the
girls are bedded down and get a good day’s sleep. I’ll expect them
fresh and ready for the evening. Put something on their bottoms to help
them heal. Brush their teeth, powder them, show them every luxury. But
keep them naked always. No clothes. They are to be bare as newborns at
all hours. Only out by the pool should they have anything on, a small
bikini to keep their bosoms and bottoms white. Otherwise they are to be
entirely naked.”
Susie and Althea nodded. Kate and Debbi could only stare up at
the Sultan, bare puppies on the floor, kneeling before him and
completely under his command. His pets. Kate felt a thrill run up her
spine as she realized the Sultan was the master she’d always craved, yet
never found. He would have her do his bidding and there was no chance,
no chance at all, that she would be able to disobey him. There was no
chance he’d sell her or let her grow bored with him, though she hated to
look at him. He was utterly indifferent to her fate and yet passionate
about her, like a little fat devil who loved goading her and teasing
her. Kate felt her nipples perk up as the Sultan looked at her. They’d
retreated into her breasts somewhat as she worked on the floor but now
they stood up all fresh and eager. Althea noticed and laughed. Susie
laughed. Debbi, perhaps as thrilled as Kate to be so utterly stripped
bare and naked before such a ruthless man, sprouted her nipples also.
“You will serve me well,” the Sultan said. And Kate knew she
would, whether she wanted to or not.
In the privacy of her bedroom Kate was uncuffed by Althea.
Immediately she clapped a hand to her pussy.
“Oh, I need something INSIDE me!” Kate groaned. Debbi, who’d
been ordered to share the room with Kate, was uncuffed by Susie. She
put a hand to her pussy with the same hopeless urgency. There were no
men present, just the four girls, with Mistress called away but certain
to return.
Althea put a hand over Kate’s. “It’s time for my finger,” she
told Kate quietly.
“Will it work?” Kate asked. “Mine doesn’t.”
“Well, it will be someone else’s finger,” Althea replied. She
nudged Kate’s hand aside and intruded into her lips with a fingernail.
“That helps, anyway.”
“Ohh, do me deep and hard,” Kate begged. “What position do you
want me in?”
“On the bed is best,” Althea answered. “But we must hurry. If
mistress catches us she’ll cut our nipples off!”
“Oh do me too please,” Debbi begged Susie.
“Get on the bed then,” Susie said. “You can sleep later.”
Kate tried sitting on the bed but immediately sprang up.
“Oooch! It hurts my bottom!” Kate said. She turned and
crawled onto the bed with her ass lofted safely up into the air. The
sheets were soft and cool but even the slightest touch sent tremors of
pain through her punished heinie. Debbi got on the bed on her hands and
knees and, kneeling beside Kate, the two girls looked apprehensively
back behind themselves and waited with widespread legs for their friends
to fuck them.
Althea and Susie undressed. To tease the waiting girls, they
did it slowly, stripping off their clothes piece by piece. Whatever the
danger of being caught mistress, they seemed to be even more enthralled
by the prospect of making Kate and Debbi wait a little bit before being
fucked.
“Ohhh! Hurry! I don’t want to be caught!” Debbi begged.
Kate’s voice joined hers.
“Please fuck us!” Kate said. “Riding that horse made me so
hot, yet it didn’t give me what I really want!”
“Well, I’ll do my best with my finger,” Althea answered. Naked
now as the waiting girls, she leapt on the bed behind Kate. She grabbed
Kate’s hair and made her press her face down into the bedsheet. Then,
insinuating a finger between Kate’s nether lips, she began reaming Kate
as best she could with it. Susie got on the bed and did the same to
Debbi.
“Ohhh, we’re being fucked!” Kate breathed to Debbi. Bent with
their faces in the sheets, they turned to look at each other.
“Kiss me. I want to be kissed,” Debbi urged Kate. Kate
brushed her nose against Debbi’s and then their lips shared a kiss.
“That’s it, kiss and love each other while we fuck you,” Althea
commanded from behind Kate’s tail. As Kate waggled her hot bottom
boldly, oblivious to all the dictates of her mother’s upbringing, Althea
attempted to plumb her clutching depths with a skillfull finger. Debbi
was no less restrained. Tormented to the point of savagery in the
Sultan’s punishment chamber, she became almost a savage herself,
thrusting her small ass back at Susie. Silently, as she kissed her
friend beside her, she begged Susie to split her wide and finger-fuck
her. Susie tossed back her red hair and set to work. Debbi, kissing
Kate, cried suddenly as Susie’s finger plunged into her tight moist
pussy. As vigorously as a man, though with large bosoms swaying just
above Debbi’s ass, Susie fucked her.
Amidst soft sighs and increasingly urgent cries the girls found
pleasure at last upon the bed, deep in the Sultan’s castle where they
were sure they were doomed to be kept forever.
30
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