Author Topic: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington  (Read 21378 times)

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #25 on: June 06, 2011, 09:33:51 PM »

Offline Jokester

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Day Twenty-Eight: Victoria Finally Departs To Meet Her New Master

 

I had spent the morning getting ready to depart.  I was scared, but felt a sense of excitement that surprised me.  I was young and I was facing the unknown, yet at the same time I knew exactly what my new life held for me---this had been made VERY clear to me---and I was ready to face it with as much poise and confidence as I could.

 

Except for the anal sex, yesterday’s time with Jorge had left me feeling as good as I had felt in a long time.  It seemed like a huge weight had been taken off of my chest.  The new reality the movies had brought, the physical release that Jorge had given me, the relief that I’d felt after I’d decided to no longer fight my fate, moving on to my new master; it all seemed to come together at once.

 

The boat was still about three hours from docking when Jorge allowed me to go into my cabin and begin getting ready for tonight’s meeting.  He was solicitous as he served me several cups of coffee to help me relax as I packed to leave.  I was able to pack everything that I’d been wearing into two large suitcases.  Depending upon how he wanted to use me, while my new Master may soon need to buy me some new dresses, he wouldn’t need to buy me lingerie for years.  I thought with regret back to Bossman, and how we’d finally been able to get along at the end just before he’d left the boat.  I was certain; if I had to have a Master, I wished it were him.  But that was not to be.

 

I felt that this was a golden opportunity so I took a lot of care that afternoon, trying to make myself look as good as possible for my new Master.  I was glad that Jorge had decided to let me leave without having to wear that damnable plug inside me.  I may be someone’s newly purchased pleasure slave, but arriving without that monstrosity would simplify a lot of things and perhaps allow my beauty and grace to impress onlookers.  If he kept other women for pleasure besides me, I would do my best to become his favorite toy since I felt that this would simplify my life with him.

 

After carefully putting on my makeup and brushing out my hair, I walked over to the clothes hangers in the corner and took down a simple navy blue pleated skirt that came to within two inches above my knees and an almost transparent white silk blouse with a deep V neck.  I matched these with sheer navy hose, a silk navy garter belt and dark blue pumps with four inch stiletto heels.  Looking at myself in the mirror, I knew that I would be able to make a simple yet classy, perhaps even sexy entrance.

 

Oddly, The Evil One had handed me a second navy garter belt and informed that I would wear this one too.  This garter belt was much wider than normal as it encircled my waist, it rested higher on my hips than I had become familiar with and had only one slightly longer garter strap hanging down in front.  I noticed that this garter strap was also much stronger than the other garters that I normally wore.  After inspecting it closely, I could see that if this single garter were stretched tightly, it could be fastened firmly to the back of the wide garter belt that I was to wear.  While it didn’t make sense to wear two garter belts, especially one that had a strap hanging down in front, I did as I was commanded. 

 

The Evil One came in and I submitted to him, assuming my customary position.  Without ceremony, he walked in back of me, lifted my skirt and pushed my thighs apart.  I blushed at this, but he didn’t seem to notice as he then reached between my legs and grabbed the end of the single unattached garter that hung down in front between my legs, pulled it up between my thighs and hooked it to the wide belt in back.  It was tightly stretched now from front to back and split the lips of my pussy as well snuggling deeply in the crack of my buttocks.  He then left without a word.  It was as if this strap was the crotch of a weirdly designed thong; the second garter was rather uncomfortable and it took me a while to get used to wearing it. 

 

I was dressed in less than an hour and now waited impatiently for this part of my journey to end.  I felt like I’d lived a lifetime in the last three or four weeks.  Coincidentally, at this point the small bathroom in my cabin had backed up and I was forced to wait until I got onshore before I could go to the bathroom.  It was at times like this that I sometimes wished that I were a man.  Of course, if I were a man, I wouldn’t have been here in the first place.

 

Eventually the boat approached a large marina dock at dusk and I was escorted by the men off of the boat in disguise.  Just before we had arrived, Jorge had handcuffed my wrists behind my back to ensure that I didn’t try to runaway---as if I’d try to escape by running on a dock made of wooden planks while wearing four inch stilettos.  Although the weather was mild, he’d thrown a long, yet light cotton cape over my shoulders to hide the wrist cuffs.  In addition, he’d also forced a two inch diameter rubber ball into my mouth and then covered my lips with a wide piece of flesh colored tape to gag me.  Finally, he’d somehow come up with a floppy brimmed hat that covered my face most of the time.  From fifty feet away in the gathering dark, no one would ever notice that fact that I was bound and gagged. 

 

I don’t know why, but I tried to act normal as normal as possible as I walked along that dock.  Acting not as a young kidnapped girl that was handcuffed and gagged, one that had been raped and tortured and who had been sold into sexual slavery, but instead, as an innocent young girl being escorted somewhere by her older brothers.

 

As I was being escorted to my transportation, I thought about my last four or five years at school and of what I had dreamed my future to be.  The places I would visit, the men that I would meet and with whom I would go on exotic vacations.  We’d have chilled drinks on beautiful patios overlooking the Mediterranean; spend time in the fantastic cities of Eastern Europe and the Middle East.  It would all be wonderful!  Eventually, I’d meet the man of my dreams and he would fall in love with me, and ask me to marry him. 

 

Funny, the things you think about when you’re a newly trained sex slave and you’re being unexpectedly transferred from one location to another; you’re being taken some place you’ve never been because you belong to a man you’ve never met, and he’ll use you for things you’ve never dreamed you be forced to do.  Oddly, I was somehow at peace with the fact that I belonged to a man and that he would force me to have sex with him at his pleasure until he tired of me.  It would have been impossible for me to have dreamed of this happening to another woman a month ago, let alone me actually living through it.

 

Along with my luggage, I was escorted down the dock and into a parking lot where a large SUV was waiting for me.  My floppy hat was removed and I was silently given over to the three men waiting there.  Jorge, Manuel and Enrique turned and walked away from me without another word.  I watched them for a minute and none of them ever looked back at me.  My eyes teared slightly; the hellboat was a known evil and as bad as it had been, for some reason I felt like a small child that had just lost my parents. 

 

Still gagged and cuffed, the men helped me into the front seat and then we pulled out along the coast road.  Conversation was stiff; all of the men were programmed to say little and seemed thoroughly incapable of small talk.  Or maybe, as the new Master’s whore I was below their station in life.  I watched the road signs carefully.  I’d like to know where I was, not so much because I thought I could escape, for I had already been told that I would be put on the leash by my new Master for at least a month, but rather out of sheer curiosity.  Still not a word from the front or back seats.

 

We drove for ten minutes along the well lit road and I was surprised to see a lot of heavy truck traffic going in both directions.  We soon slowed down and pulled around to the back of a closed gas station---even if this was not the Hilton, I hoped that I would be allowed to go to the bathroom here.  While the driver walked around to the back of their vehicle, the other two men helped me down from my seat and held me with a firm grip on each arm.  I looked at the men in a little fear for this did not make sense.

 

The driver then walked around and stood next to Victoria where he took a stiff rubber rod out of a paper bag that he was now carrying.  The rod had a set of beads on it arranged by size and he proceeded to lubricate them lightly with what turned out to be Bengay.  These plastic anal beads grew progressively larger as one went from the tip towards the base of the rod.  The big end of the rod had a wide, flat flange on it to prevent its penetrating too deeply into its female victim and it had a leather loop on the end with which to pull it out when the man was done humiliating his woman. 

 

Looking at me with an evil smile, he said, “Consider this a parting gift from Roberto.”

 

While I had never seen one of these things before and didn’t know what they planned to do with it, I also knew that without a doubt that it didn’t mean anything good for me and I tried to turn and run.  The two men standing next to me casually grabbed me before I could even really make a move and lifted me up and threw me face down over the fender of the SUV.  I was still handcuffed, and although I struggled, kicking my legs and throwing myself from side to side, the two men each grabbed an arm and an ankle and easily pinned me down on the fender while they pulled my legs wide apart.  The driver then proceeded to unhook the single garter that ran between my legs, spread my butt cheeks and in a totally disinterested, business-like manner, he inserted the rod end and the two smallest beads into my anus.  Because of the rubber butt plugs that I’d been wearing for the last month, my body easily accepted these smaller beads.  But while I gave a muffled scream of indignation and fought this as hard as I could, I was again helpless in the face of the experienced slavers. 

 

The driver then grabbed the front garter strap, ran it through the looped handle and positioned it carefully over the end of the rubber rod before re-connecting it to the rear of the wide garter belt around my waist.  The strong, tightly stretched garter strap now split the lips of my pussy again; while I was still lying on the fender and before I could even think about trying to clamp my sphincter shut the third bead had been driven inside my rectum under the pressure from the tightly stretched garter.

 

The men watched without interest as Vicki began a muffled begging as soon as the Bengay started to take effect.  She knew that without a doubt this had to be the beginning of her punishment for trying to resist the men on the boat.  Taking her arms, her two escorts dragged her back down off the fender and began walking her back to the open door of the SUV.  She walked with difficulty due to unfamiliar presence in her ass.  The Bengay was already stoking a furnace and as they walked, the strong garter strap kept up its pressure on the rod that now pushed more deeply into her asshole with almost every step.  Three more times on the short trip to the vehicle door, almost once with each step, each move of her hips resulted in a new and larger bead forcing its way past her sphincter and injecting a whole new load of Bengay in her already burning asshole.  Even as Victoria involuntarily accepted the final and largest anal bead inside her body, the smaller beads that were at the tip of the rod continued to lead the way into her body, thus ensuring that their message of pain was carried profoundly deeper into her rectum.  Little did she know that the last and largest bead had Tobasco sauce mixed with the Bengay.  Just as they reached the car door, the last bead popped in.

 

I somehow climbed into the SUV with their help and was belted into the front passenger seat which forced the beads even more deeply inside me.  The rod was now firmly seated inside my lower body up to the flange.  Designed well, that wide piece was the only thing preventing an even deeper penetration of my rectum by the beads.  The seat had also been reclined by the driver, forcing me to lie back on my bound hands.  I was now in continuous pain from the burning inside my rectum and my hips were in constant motion, trying to achieve some kind of relief in an impossible quest for sanctuary.  Even worse, I still had to go to the bathroom.  While this pain was not as great as that from my rectum, the feeling of urgency continued to grow.

 

I had lost all interest in fighting them; the men now easily tied my ankles together using a strip of Velcro and a rope was run from my hands, between the seat back and seat bottom and then back to my ankles.  The driver pulled the rope tight; his actions pulled my ankles snugly against the front of the seat; this in turn forced me to arch my back in an attempt to relieve the pressure on knees and ankles.  In my reclined position, this in effect raised my knees above my hips.  Because of the brutal physical intrusion of the rod and anal balls, the only way I could achieve any kind of relief from the rectal invasion was to spread my knees as widely as was humanly possible.  At the same time, I was forced to continue grinding my hips into the seat in an unsuccessful attempt to bring some kind of relief from the burning fire in my rear.  After pulling my skirt back up around my thighs without saying a word, the driver now started the car, pulled back out on the coastal road and the trip to my new Master’s home began again. 

 

A natural result of gravity is that things always want to go from higher areas to lower—nature rules and everything inexorably else obeys, sometimes sooner, sometimes later.  It was this function that caused her pleated skirt to now want to slide down her slick, nylon clad thighs to her hips.  Between the normal vibrations of the road and Victoria's squirming from the unbelievable pain in her rectal canal, the pleated blue skirt started its inevitable slide towards her waist.  The driver turned to her and smiled without sympathy, “I understand your Master has some interesting plans for you upon arrival---a nice steaming enema, a good, long ass fucking and God only knows what else.”  She ignored him as she had much more serious concerns with which to contend. 

 

First to become visible were the darker tops of her stockings.  If the outside observer could ignore her obvious pain, with her knees spread wide on the reclined passenger seat she presented a provocative and sexy view of a beautiful woman.  Victoria was crying at this point and through her haze of pain, she wondered faintly if the truckers driving by could see into the interior of the vehicle well enough to notice her.  She hoped not, but from the sound of the air horns when they passed the trucks, she assumed they could. 

 

Because of her spread knees and the writhing of her hips on the reclined seat, her skirt had next slid to the point that her garters could be seen and, in a humiliating finale, her exposed and mostly naked pussy was fully revealed to each passing truck driver.  She wasn’t sure, but they might have caused a wreck or two as they passed various trucks.  Obviously, the word had gone out as every truck they passed had its driver hanging out the window to see the beautiful blonde exhibitionist.  The fact that she was constantly grinding her pelvis into the seat for them just made it an even hotter scene for them.  This was something that they would be talking about for a long time. 

 

All they had seen were the knees spread wide, the stocking clad thighs and the moving hips.  Not one of them had noticed the bound wrists or the shocked look in the pleading eyes, the tears running down the now haggard face or the gagged mouth that kept in the cries of pain.

 

I had lost all interest in reading the traffic signs for I no longer cared where we were.  This trip to meet my new Master was awful; it was hell---so much for my grand entrance.  Through the acid-like burning in my anus around which my whole world now centered, I knew that this trip had started badly and that when they got me to new Master’s home, things would only get worse.

 

Eventually they pulled up in front of a large stucco’d building built in the manner of the colonial past.  The SUV was parked in a large circular drive in front of a grand and well manicured entrance.  The mansion was designed with two wings and looked to be quite large, as though it might contain up to 7,000 or even 8,000 square feet under one roof.  But Victoria could be excused for this estimate, since in total it encompassed over 16,000 square feet, much of it being underground.

 

This was the day that I had dreaded for over three weeks---meeting my new Master.  But frankly, I could care less at the moment what my new owner or the home of my new owner looked like or even how he acted towards me.  I was in agony, with the mix of Bengay and Tobasco exceeding anything The Demon might have done to me in person.  When we arrived I was dragged from the SUV by two men and forced around to a side entrance where deliveries were made. 

 

I could barely walk, but was mostly dragged into a sizable, well appointed kitchen where I was met by a large Hispanic man.  He looked with disapproval at my disheveled appearance and constantly moving hips, my tear-filled eyes and rather mussed hair, but finally introduced himself as ‘Georges’.  He turned without another word and led the small parade through the kitchen to a heavy locked door set into a whitewashed stone wall.  Opening the door with a key that he carried on a ring with a bunch of other keys, we descended a series of steps that led to a subterranean level.

 

Still handcuffed, full of fear and dread and in real pain, I was finally, reluctantly ushered by Georges into a large, rather dark room with what seemed a low ceiling; I walked stiffly to the center where I did my best to assume a submissive position.  I furtively looked around me in shock as I subtly shifted my weight from one foot to the other and back again.  My eyes had still not adjusted from being outside at night and it took several moments for me to be able to see everything clearly.  There were at least seven or eight men apparently waiting for my arrival. 

 

Georges looked at me impassively and without pity, turned without saying another word and along with the two escorts left me alone with the men.  In great pain, I numbly waited for instructions.  Intellectually, I knew the fate that awaited me, but emotionally, in my heart I was still trying to make the leap from being a college student on one day to being prostituted a month later to any man that my new Master might want to let use me, let alone a whole roomful of men. 

 

All of the men had apparently been sitting at a long table playing cards, killing time.  Most had been drinking, but none appeared drunk.  A beautiful pool table took up the center of the room.  There were also a series of couches up against the walls around the room and what looked like nice Persian rugs in front of each couch.  A door in front of me led off to what appeared to be a bathroom.

 

Still standing in the center of the room, it was obvious to all that my face was drawn and white with pain.  I was still continually moving my hips and clenching my butt cheeks together in an attempt to not cry out.  Whatever it was, the mixture that the driver had painted on the balls now buried so deeply inside me burned like acid, incinerating the vulnerable flesh of my rectum that now sported small rips and tears due to the previous weeks of anal training.  This pain was all that I cared about right now—it consumed my world and me with it.

 

At the same time, I slowly swayed back and forth as I tried to keep from urinating in front of these men.  If only I hadn’t drank so much coffee this afternoon.  If only the toilet hadn’t stopped working.  If only I hadn’t been kidnapped…….

 

I’d been a nice girl before these men had gotten their hands on me---they’d degraded and humiliated me the whole time I’d been in their possession.  I remembered all the care I’d taken this afternoon in putting on my makeup and in choosing what to wear to meet my new Master tonight.  I thought about my stupid vow to unseat any other female slaves from their positions.  Fat chance of that now!  I knew I looked like hell right now; and I certainly didn’t feel very special right now, but rather betrayed, abused and brutalized.

 

One man stepped forward and snapped his fingers.  Two men grabbed me and dragged me in front of the leader.  He looked at me for minute without saying a word and then he grabbed my chin.  I still had the large rubber ball in mouth and the tape over my lips; holding my jaw painfully hard, he first turned my head to the left and then to the right as he looked at my face. 

 

Then he said, “So this is the one.  This is the one that has caused so much trouble over the last couple of weeks.”

 

He hesitated for a moment before he continued, “Pretty little thing.  Although she’s not so little, is she?”  At this comment, there were a couple of appreciative chuckles.

 

“You’re due some pain; we’ve been told that we’re allowed to punish you.  I’m not sure exactly what you’ve done, but you’ve seriously pissed some people off.  You seem to be in a little, shall we say ‘discomfort’ from Roberto’s gift to you.  I like him and I don’t know you---that alone should trouble you a little.”

 

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at Victoria, “I’ve been given some suggestions about how to treat you and what to do with you, but we’ll see.”

 

“You need to be ‘pumped and flushed’, but I’m not sure that we’re gonna’ give you what you need tonight.  We’d planned on giving you an enema and then corking your ass and letting you stew in your own juices for awhile.  I know that you’ve got to piss too; you think the coffee and other stuff was an accident?  We were also going to catheterize you and let your bladder work a little while longer too.  By the way, you piss on the floor and I’ll beat you bloody fucking senseless---do you understand me?”

 

As he said this, he’d grabbed hair at the back of her head and forced her to nod her understanding of his order.  He continued in a low voice, “What I do know is that we’re going to give you everything that we want you to have and that you’ll take everything that we want you take, but you may not get what YOU need tonight.  We’ll see; it all depends upon how appreciative you are and on how well you behave.”

 

***

 

The Master of the new whore had gathered these men from his plantation and given them permission to use the bitch hard on her first night in.  She was to be punished for some infraction that occurred during her training and he wanted to see how submissive she actually was.  Some of these men were second-generation employees.  While extremely loyal, except for their leader these men were also all very low level employees like gardeners, drivers and all-around handy men---they were the lowest of the low.  These men had no real education, no real prospects and no certain hope.  They were all unwashed, ignorant and at deadends in their lives.  Perhaps the worst part was that they knew this about themselves. 

 

The men knew that this was a lying bitch and they planned on giving her one hell of a lot more than an enema tonight.  But first, they’d make sure that she knew that she was no better than them.  If they lived a life of ultimate hopelessness, they’d make sure that this cunt was going to be right down there with them in the gutter.  They were looking at tonight as an opportunity to humiliate a beautiful young woman and as a way to have great fun at the expense of this stupid slave bitch. 

 

***

 

“Put her up against the pool table.”

 

I was still handcuffed; laughing, the men grabbed my arms and dragged me unresisting to the pool table where they forced me to bend over.  They then pushed my face onto the surface.  I now laid there draped over the edge of the pool table with the right side of my face pressed firmly into the felt surface.

 

The leader then told them to free my wrists and after a moment of fumbling, another man off to the side stepped up and took the handcuffs off of me.  My wrists now freed, one of the men put me my left arm in a wrist lock and as he lifted up on my hand and wrist, all I could do was try to push my face into the table even further in an attempt to reduce the pain he was causing me.  I was barely aware that they had lifted my skirt up around my waist and now looked at my nylon clad legs and my naked butt as it was aimed into air—at this point the room went silent and one of the men gave out a soft whistle. 

 

The leader laughed and said, “Little one, you may only be nineteen, but you are definitely a woman.

 

Although in agony from both the balls and rod so deeply entombed inside me and from the burning crème that they carried, I was still embarrassed that they could see me naked from the waist down.  I tried to resist them a little once again but they held me firm.  My other hand had now also been put in a wrist lock and with both arms twisted into the air, I was helpless.  But I still had to urinate, and the more they pushed my abdomen against the table and the more that the men used their pressure holds on me, the more I was afraid that my distended bladder would fail and that I would undergo this ultimate humiliation in front of these men.

 

The men were clustered around the table looking at the beautiful American teenager.  One of the men moved aside the wide garter that had kept everything pushed inside her and from the side, all that could be seen between the crack of her ass was the loop on the handle at the very base of the shaft.  The rubber stick was now buried completely inside her so deeply that when viewed directly from her rear, the wide flange at the base was only visible as it made a nice wide dimple that covered her asshole.  The men looked at each other with surprise and some shook their heads.  They’d been told what the driver had planned for her and they knew that most women couldn’t eat the whole stick like that without serious discomfort or even injury; and she hadn’t seemed in THAT much discomfort.  Although a little young, this was a woman they knew in which a MAN could lose himself; a woman capable of taking inside and holding in everything a man had to offer.

 

I felt one of them fumble between my legs and finally unhook the pressure garter from the end of the rubber stick.  Then slowly, oh-so-slowly, one of them began to pull on the loop that I knew must still be sticking out of me and leisurely start to withdraw the rod from inside my rectum.  I was further humiliated as I could hear my anus making either a hungry slurping noise or a farting sound as the rod was slowly removed and each ball popped out of me and back into sight again.  Soon, these disconcerting sounds were drowned out by the laughter of the men. 

 

Finally, it was done and I felt like a huge, but necessary presence in my colon had been removed and the void left behind somehow felt like it still needed to be, somehow ached to be filled again to return me to normalcy.  But my rectum still burned with what the rod had carried inside of me and I had no way to stop that.

 

The leader said something to another one of the men and soon someone was standing behind me, spreading my cheeks.  Suddenly, there was the blessed relief of a cold, wet washcloth, first cleaning me around my anus and then deeper as the man roughly probed and rubbed and swabbed.  He kept pushing deeper and deeper, and although he did not go as deeply as I desired it still helped me immensely. 

 

I felt the leader step behind me and then he told the men to take off the tape that covered my mouth.  When this had been done, without waiting for his permission, I opened my jaw as best I could and the wet rubber ball slowly fell out of my mouth and onto the felt of the pool table.  As it rolled away from my face, a thin wet line was left on the felt from the saliva wet ball.  After I did this, to emphasize my training about doing nothing without waiting for permission from my current Master, one of the men put even more pressure on my wrist and lifted my arm, almost tearing it out of my shoulder socket.  All I could do was groan and cry out in pain.

 

The leader stood behind Victoria and just looked at her lower body.  She was wearing navy stockings and shoes with nice high stiletto heels.  Her buttocks were bare and the tops of her hose ended only a few inches below her firm ass.  The tops of her stockings were of a heavier dark blue lace and about three inches wide; the wide lace band at the front of her thighs was pressed firmly against the side of the pool table as she was forced to lean into it.  Damn, he thought to himself.  While the bitch really did have great legs, her high heels emphasized her calves and turned her legs from merely great to fucking magnificent. 

 

To his men he said, “Move her legs apart.”  The two men holding her wrists immediately stepped towards each other and hooked their ankles inside of Victoria’s  Once they’d done this, they dragged their feet back and forced her legs further apart until finally her feet were between three and four feet apart.

 

Slowly, he stepped next to her as he said, “I hope that you appreciate my sensitivity in trying to help you in your moment of need---in taking away some of the burning that those baaaaad men put inside you.”  In reality, he was getting ready to fuck her in the ass and since he planned on taking her bareback, he didn’t want this crap on him too.

 

“You’ve definitely got a great pair of legs and all of us here appreciate how beautiful they are.  One always needs to appreciate the finer things in life.  But you see, the thing is---word has come down,” he continued as he ran his hands up and down the outsides of her thighs before he cupped her buttocks in his hands, “of your inability to appreciate the pleasure that a man can bring you in a certain way.  It seems that you have learned to endure when you should be enjoying, you’re groaning and grunting when you should be singing your Master’s praises to heaven.”

 

“It’s not right,” he said, “that a beautiful woman like you should refuse to participate fully in what can be so gratifying an experience.  You need to learn to enjoy this with no reservations; to take part with joy and thanksgiving in your heart.  We’ll help you.”  Along with chuckles of agreement from the men, Victoria heard the zzzzzppp as their leader undid his pants and dropped them down around his ankles. 

 

Picture the slow majestic movement of a massive ship as it is berthed at a pier or the irresistible force represented by a locomotive gaining speed as it pulls a long line of fully laden cars.

 

He spread Victoria’s cheeks and opened her up with his hands.  Then he guided himself into her ass and stood for a second with only the first inch of his cock inside her.  With this move, he forced a small groan from her as she exhaled into the felt of the table top.  Then he put his hands lightly on her hips to maintain his balance and slowly leaned forward on his toes.  The men watched as his lubricated cock overpowered her body’s defenses, slowly and majestically disappearing from sight inside of her.

 

This is how he took Victoria.  Not quickly as a knife might pierce her vitals, but slowly, irresistibly and implacably, as if with a blunt, dull massive club.  Although to her it took forever for him to finish, in reality his entrance was soon completed and she was totally his.  His reward was her softly drawn out groaning cry which let him know that he had successfully filled her.  As his groin nestled up against her ass, he felt the lace at the top of her stockings rubbing against the front of his thighs.  He was now nestled up against her rear and he leaned forward onto her back to first lick her left ear before he whispered into it, “Give me what I want or tonight we’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” 

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #26 on: June 06, 2011, 09:34:43 PM »

Offline Jokester

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“Give me your brown sugar now, bitch.  I want it now!”  Then he leaned back and looked at the left side of her face as her head was pushed into the table top.  Her left eye was sparkling with unshed tears; he couldn’t see the other side of her face but knew that there too she would be fighting tears.  He knew that he’d take this picture and this set of physical sensations with him to his grave.

 

He’d forced himself into me and then he wanted me to make him feel good too.  Everything about me hurt.  The pain was mainly centered around the new messages radiating out from my rear.  But my bladder hurt and my feet hurt, everything hurt.  But I tried, God help me I tried to please him.  I pushed my hips back into him and rotated them a little.  But it wasn’t enough I guess.  Because he raised himself up on his tiptoes to change the angle of his penetration and suddenly his presence inside me felt like a knife tearing and ripping at my flesh.  With this one move, he tried to rend me in half as he tore my rectum.  I tried to raise myself too to relieve the pressure on my anus, but his weight on my hips and back kept me pinned.  I cried out again and again as he did this to me, but all he did was laugh. 

 

He was buried inside Victoria and she was tight around his erection.  Everything about her was exquisite.  Her hole was warm and everything was perfectly lubricated as he took his time slowly attaining full penetration time and time again.  Every time he went up on his toes, the muscles of her asshole would grab at him, trying to immobilize his cock.  God, it felt wonderful as he drilled her.  His wife never let him do this to her and he resented it; he enjoyed taking out his frustrations with his wife on a hot little whore like this teenaged American bitch.

 

Finally, he noticed that his cock had begun to feel a little warm and he realized that his man hadn’t gotten all of the crème out of her rectum, so he sped up a little and soon he came inside her.  He stood there for a minute after he’d cum and just concentrated on memorizing how good it felt to have a beautiful woman like this take it in the ass from him.  Finally, he grew so small that he slid out of her no matter what he tried to do and he knew that it was time to pass her on to the others.

 

At his nod, the two men that had been holding me pulled me upright, escorted me over to a man sitting on one of the couches and then forced me to my knees on a rug in front of him.  He unzipped his pants and pulled his flaccid penis out, telling me to start sucking, “and if I bit him, he'd knock my teeth out and then face fuck me anyway!”  The two men pushed me forward and the man in front of me ground his soft, flabby cock against my face and lips. 

 

Still hidden in that small distant place in my mind and not yet having fully recovered mentally from being anally raped, I didn’t understand at first what he was saying.  When I tentatively opened my mouth to him, he began to get harder without me doing any sucking.  I shook my head a little, but eventually was able to get my hands up and grasp his penis.  Assuming a position that I had by now memorized, I leaned into him and fully took him into my mouth.  He immediately began to get hard as I began working him, but suddenly someone grabbed my hair from in back and forced my face forward completely into the man’s groin.  This other person wouldn’t let my head come back and I found that I couldn’t breathe with his cock filling my mouth and my nose smashed into his belly.

 

Pushing back with my hands on the man’s knees, I was finally able to get enough room between my face and his groin to enable me to breathe again.  But with the seated man using two full handfuls of my hair to pull my head back down on him and another man pushing my head from the back, I found myself being shoved onto and pulled off of his rod until my lipstick left a thin glaze of color on his erection from tip to root.  I was still too stunned to be doing much sucking on him.  But that seemed to okay to him, because I guess that all he wanted was somewhere to put himself inside me and he’d do the rest.

 

I knew that these men could do anything they wanted to me and that I wouldn’t be able to stop them.  I’d finally wanted to cooperate, but like the driver and the two men with him, that didn’t matter to these men.  I think that it was my karma that these things were happening to me only after I’d realized that I couldn’t win. 

 

My only hope, my only defense was to do exactly what they demanded and hope that they didn’t hurt me too badly.  Even though I had previously shut it down, that small part of my conscious mind that had acted like a third eye when I had been subtly resisting the men on the boat was critical to my safety as I tried to go along with these men tonight and give them everything they wanted.  I felt as if I stood on the edge of a mental crevasse and these men were trying to push me over the edge.  I tried to prepare myself for what they would do. 

 

Finally, the head of his penis lodged at the entrance to her throat and he felt her gag on him---with her face impaled on his cock like it was, her gagging motion actually felt kind of good to him.  Even as she retched and involuntarily tried to pull her head back, he still saw her lips inadvertently close over his erection.  The moves that she made as she hunched her shoulders and gagged on his erection felt great and when they next pulled her head back, he could see a nice heavy ring of red from her lipstick right at the base of his cock.  Eventually, they pushed her head hard enough onto him that his cock slammed past her gag reflex and down her throat in a way that didn’t allow her to breathe.  They then held her head immobile with his cock totally buried in her mouth while they had a short conversation.

 

“I love the way she stretches her lips stretch around my cock,” he purred in contentment.  “But I think you’re right though, she needs a lot of practice.”  Then grabbing a handful of hair by each of her ears, he began to fiercely fuck her in the face.  It went on and on, and everyone could hear it---the sound of her forehead slapping against his belly was mirrored by her grunts as he forced himself into her; his balls making a soft slapping sound on her chin matched by the deep gagging sounds from her throat. 

 

My nose was pressed against his belly when he finally achieved release in my mouth.  He was deep in the back of my throat and wouldn’t let me come back up for air, so I was forced to swallow it.  A month ago I would have died if someone done this to me, but now this didn’t seem to bother me as much anymore.  I hated to think that I was getting used to giving blowjobs to any man that wanted one and to then swallow his cum, but I was. 

 

He then pulled out a little and continued cumming in my mouth; it seemed like he’d never stop.  I had cum dribbling out of the side of my mouth in long white strings, it hung from my chin and spilled onto my chest and blouse.  When he finally pulled out of me, I began coughing and even brought up a little cum that had been spent deep in my throat, but which I had not yet swallowed. 

 

They were pigs, but it didn’t matter to me.  I was safe from them here deep inside my mind.  As long as I could watch from a distance, they might take my body, but they’d never have the real me.  During my time on that floating hell, I had finally found that you could do this if you tried hard enough.  You just tucked the unwanted thoughts and deeds of others deep into some backwater recess of your mind until the normal clutter of your life obscured it, and then you pretended that it wasn’t there.  I was good at this now.  I needed to be good at this because even if I was cooperating now, I still needed to somehow keep my sanity and this was the best way I’d found.

 

For the last month, I’d been using my own special places for hiding things; dark little crevasses in my soul where one might tuck an experience or even a whole relationship, so that it never saw the light of day again.  This was my life now; I now knew that there was no savior for me, no white knight, no one to deliver me from the life of being a whore that my new Master had planned for me. 

 

At nineteen, I also had finally faced myself and found that I wasn’t really a strong person; certainly not tough enough to last for long in a life like this.  I wanted to die rather than provide sexual release for untold men as I was sold from one owner to another.  I hoped that I still had too much decency in me to survive.  I felt that a life like this would soon kill any remaining spark of goodness within me; I knew that I would be dead within a year.  But somehow that was okay too, because in the end it was only family that mattered, and because I was willing to sacrifice myself, my family was safe.  I’d kept them safe.

 

Victoria was still on her knees coughing when two men grabbed her arms, pulled her to her feet and dragged her towards the pool table in the center of the room.  Oddly, as if she might be a danger to them, one of the men kept her in a wrist lock as they marched her back to the rest of the men, where willing hands picked her up and laid her on her back on the table.  There was a man holding each wrist and another man holding each shapely ankle.

 

For some reason, this snapped me out of my funk and back to my current reality.  I was scared, helpless, vulnerable and totally exposed.  I begged them to let me go, but they just looked at me and laughed.  While my arms were held tightly by my sides, my legs were pulled widely apart and my skirt then lifted up around my waist.  At the same time, my blouse was ripped open, sending buttons flying everywhere and exposing my breasts for all to view.  Suddenly, and surprising even me, after all that the men had done to me this awful night, fear metamorphosed into a blazing rage; I began screaming my anger at them and struggling in earnest, throwing myself back and forth in a final attempt to free myself.

 

The leader of the men grabbed my hair and forced me to look at him.  He’d taken what he wanted from me so no longer felt the need to pretend to any goodness.  He looked directly into my eyes for a few moments before he said, “Bitch, this is what you are.  We’re not stopping for anything.  You’re a piece of ass now and you’re going to get passed around like a cheap stock tip.  These men have been waiting for you for weeks, so why would we stop now?”  He then slapped me once, hard enough to stun me and I felt him walk away from me as I lay motionless on the table.

 

The men were now lined up to have their turns with me.  I’d already been sodomized by the leader and I guess that he’d indulged in his appetite for helpless women enough for now, so he pointed to who got to get up on the table with me.  “Snakedriver,” he said, “go ahead.  I want to see what this bitch’s got.”

 

I had finally regained some sense after being slapped so hard.  Even though it embarrassed me, I had to ask them; “Please,” I begged, “please for the sake of God, let me go to the bathroom.  Please.”

 

Laughing, the men all looked at each other and agreed that they didn’t want me pissing all over the top of the pool table, so two of them helped me down and into the bathroom.  I quickly sat down on the toilet and with my blouse hanging open, was able let loose with a gushing torrent; I had been well taught in the last month to ignore any false modesty where bodily functions were concerned.  Finished, the men allowed me wipe quickly and then dragged me back out and onto the table top.

 

In a supreme act of betrayal, all of the men had been told about Jorge’s discovery of Victoria’s sexual weakness.  Telling the others to hold her tight, the first man quickly flipped her skirt up around her waist and reached between her legs to begin single mindedly manipulating her genital area, focusing mainly on her clitoris.  She’d recovered from the blow to the head but instead of fighting against these men, she laid there unresisting with her legs spread wide for them as they masturbated her.  Another man soon brought out a small vibrator and between the two, after a couple of minutes of being manipulated, Victoria felt herself begin to respond in spite of herself.

 

She tried to ignore what they did to her, but the man worked at her tiny, hidden button of flesh, manipulating it with his fingers and the vibrator.  Finally, her clit was engorged, filled with blood and standing erect as if it was her own small penis.  At this point, another man reached over and pulled a small silver alligator clip on a thin silver chain out of his pocket.  Without a word to her, he isolated her clit with his forefinger and thumb, and then attached the strong jaws of the clip to her engorged clit and ran the chain between her knees to the foot of the table.  Not expecting this, Victoria couldn’t stop herself from screaming as he clamped it onto her.  Ignoring her, he instead looked at the man who was ready to mount her and nodded his head.  Snakedriver was definitely ready for her, his erection pointing to the room’s ceiling.  He climbed up on the table and ignored her now weaker struggles as he got on his knees between her widely stretched thighs.

 

I knew what was coming, but couldn’t do anything about it.  I was finally beginning to come out of the trance I’d been in every since I’d arrived here.  The anal burn was finally going away and the only thing really hurting right now were my hips and the insides of my thighs due to my legs being stretched apart almost to the breaking point.  I knew that I had a gaping need between my legs that needed to be filled, but I refused to allow myself the pleasure of responding to their attempts at enticing me out of my self-imposed shell of safety.

 

First one man and then a second had worked on my clitoris and it responded like I knew it would, like it always did.  I knew then too that Jorge had betrayed me and told these men of his discovery.  If possible, the men holding my ankles pulled my legs even further apart and a man leaned over my belly and hips for a second, but I couldn’t see what he was doing.  I tried to raise my head to watch him when suddenly there was a crushing, mashing pain in my clit and I shrieked my surprise and my pain.  I felt like my body had fragmented and the two main parts were connected only by this white hot, steel-hard point of pain between my legs.  When the man stood up again, I saw him lead a small chain back from between my thighs to the foot of the table.  God, it hurt!

 

I struggled as best I could, begging them to let me go.  Finally, I watched the one they called Snakedriver get on his knees between my legs, grab his cock and guide it into the opening of my pussy.  Whimpering with pain, I closed my eyes and turned my head away from him; I didn’t want to see the look of satisfaction on his face as he took me.  I felt him split my lips with the blunt, shiny, dark purple head of his erection and he began his move to possess me.  Finally filled after a couple of tentative thrusts, I could soon tell that I had become wet and that he was now filling me, sliding wetly and smoothly into me up to his nutsack.  The men continued to hold me immobilized as I lay beneath the one they called Snakedriver; I still did my best to refuse to cooperate with my rapist.

 

This was a man and therefore my master, but he was not my new Master.  I couldn’t conceive of my Master wanting me defiled like this before he’d been with me first himself.  However, according the pigs on me now, this was what he wanted.  But in the end, it didn’t matter to me because it wasn’t a contest anymore.  My body would eventually react to these pigs as they desired, but it would be just another in a long line of rapes.  I would never cooperate with them.  It wouldn’t change the ‘me’ that these base, vile men could never begin to appreciate.  The ‘me’ that living a life like this would soon kill.

 

At the same time, the white hot pain that had centered between my legs seemed changed as I was filled by the man they called Snakedriver.  It seemed to expand, enveloping my whole body, but I was still contained within the bubble it caused.  My body wanted to respond to this man and the pain, both of which seemed coupled in my mind now, but I wouldn’t allow the usage of me like this.

 

The leader watched Snakedriver fuck Victoria and get no response; from this, he knew that the men on the boat had been right.  Nodding to the man with the silver chain, he started the teenager on her way to hell.  The man with the chain began to give soft tugs on the chain connected to M’s genitals.  After each tug, he would keep a gentle pressure on the chain for a second, before he released it, ensuring that she would always be feeling some sort of pulling pressure on her genitals.  And then he would start the whole process all over again.  He seemed to be timing his tugs to the thrusts of the man fucking M.  Almost immediately, they saw a change in the new whore.

 

I felt the gentle tugs that were perfectly synchronized with the pig’s thrusts into me and knew for sure that I’d been betrayed by the one man that I thought I might be able to trust on the boat.  I cried out in dread of what would happen to me if these men were successful and also tried to move in a way that would stop the pulls on my womanhood, but it was to no avail.  As the tugs continued and I felt my vagina being filled by a man plunging into me in pile driver slams, I felt too the carnal side of my nature tentatively come to the edge of the light, as if lured into a fight to the death with the tiny objective and civilized part of my mind that still remained to defend what was left of the real ‘me’.

 

The animal side of me wanted to surrender forever to the pleasure of the moment, to never again worry about what I had been taught as a child.  If it felt good and no one was hurt, then it was what I should do.  Fighting it was the other side of me that my mother and father had spent years nurturing inside me.  Delay your gratification, remember who you are, don’t embarrass yourself or your family, save yourself for your husband, eat your peas.

 

I threw my head from side to side, crying out for them to stop.  I begged them, “Oh God.  Please not this; please don’t do this to me.”

 

But I couldn’t say whether I meant the man on top or the man tugging at the foot of the table.  In any case, they were in control, not me, and both men continued what they were doing.  Within minutes of being thrown on the table, I was beginning to react to the men as they wanted.  I promised to be good and not fight them if they’d just let go of me, but no one believed me.

 

Suddenly, it seemed like the ‘I’ that I had known for nineteen years was gone and she’d been replaced by a new woman now lying on the table.  I felt so relieved to give out a loud scream on purpose, but I knew that it didn’t sound like it was of either pain or anger.  I realized that I was in fear, fear of what might happen and fear of what I might do.  The race between my animal passion and my conscious ego took an eternity to be run and a moment to complete.  I felt that tiny spark that controlled my civilized behavior move closer to the light, and closer again, and finally closer one more time; soon it was illuminated and I looked at myself in detail---and then like that, it was gone---snuffed out by the animal needs which now controlled my every move.

 

I felt the man on me slowly withdrew his rigid cock until only the engorged purple head was still inside me, then he slammed forward again in one massive thrust, sending his engorged dick back in and filling me to my depths.  God, I wanted more.  I didn’t want more, I HAD to HAVE more of him.

 

I couldn’t help myself.  I tried, but just couldn’t.  I gasped when his groin slammed into my mound and I tried to bite his ear.  The man softly tugging on my clit was driving me crazy!  He had to stop, he must stop.  He’d better never stop!  In and out the man on top of me moved, keeping a slow, careful rhythm, obviously enjoying the feel of my tight flesh grabbing his erection; enjoying my hips arching to meet his thrusts and straining against the men holding my ankles, trying to keep his meat buried inside me.

 

After what seemed like an eternity to me, he pulled back for one last push.  I didn’t want to and my mind ordered me stop, but my body did its best to thrust my hips up to meet him.  Almost pulling out of me, the man grunted and rammed forward with all his strength.  Just at that moment, the man at my feet gave a long hard steady pull on my clit.  I felt my head snap back hard against the table and I heard myself give a long muffled scream of pure pleasure.  With the insides of my upper thighs, I felt the man inside me tighten his ass and shove into to me several more times.  But all I was really paying attention to was the continuous tugging on my clit; and finally I felt a firebomb of burning hot semen injected deep inside my belly.  The man on top of me shuddered and grunted, and the scalding sperm continued to shoot into my pussy; he’d filled me with his pleasure as the men on the boat had always done.

 

He then withdrew his dick.  I knew that everyone was watching me, watching how I reacted, watching the lips of my dark red, blood engorged pussy cling to his cock as he pulled out.  They saw the alligator clamp cruelly fixed to my erect button of flesh.  But that didn’t matter to them, for another man quickly jumped on the table when the first man got off of me.  With one move of his hips, he entered my wet vagina.  This time, I swore that I could feel my vagina being slowly stretched and filled with his enormously thick cock.  He was really big around and I knew that my facial expression must be one of agony; I felt like he was tearing me apart with his erection. 

 

At the same time, my clit kept being abused by the man below: tug, tug, tug.  The sensations there were tremendous---a brilliant crystalline point of anguish/pleasure in the distance which seemed to burn brighter and brighter the more the man pulled.  The worst part was that it truly wasn’t pain anymore, but rather it had gone from something that had caused me intense suffering to something that profoundly stimulated and excited me.  I had first desired and now finally needed that erotic touch of the cold metal clamp between my legs.

 

From a distance, I heard the man on top of me ask, “You like it darling, don’t you?”  I ignored his question, but not his driving cock.  Soon, he asked me again, “You like it, don’t you, you bitch?”

 

To my horror I heard myself agree with him softly, “Yesssss.”  At the same time, I knew that I had to make one last feeble try to not give in to the animal pleasure.  “Please,” I begged softly, “don’t do this to me.”

 

He looked at her lying beneath him, first agreeing that she liked getting fucked by him and in the next breathe she was begging him to stop.  He was immediately contemptuous of her and he let the little cock teaser know this.  His belly and hips and ass shook as he slammed his cock into her again and again as hard as he could.  At the same time, he shouted, “The only fucking thing you get to beg for is more cock buried inside you, you bitch.  You come in here dressed like a fucking whore, a cheap looking cock-sucking cunt and you want us to stop?  Fuck you, you slut!  Who do you think you’re kidding?  You’ll fuck and suck every man here until none of us get it up anymore.  You’re a slut and you’ll prove it to every one of us tonight."

 

Victoria started to say something in protest and he interrupted, “Shut up, you cock-sucking, ass-fucked bitch.  There’re a lot of men that are going to fuck you tonight, so shut up.”  With that, he started pumping her for real.  The man below kept tugging on her clit and finally Victoria exploded.

 

I groaned in sheer pleasure and with my eyes closed and head moving from side to side, I begged, “Don’t….please.  Deeper.”  Tug.  “Please.”  Tug.  “Deeper.”  Tug.  The man on me looked down in amazement and almost stopped driving into me.  Tug.

 

Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I moaned, “Yes.  Fuck me.  You bastard, you wanted to fuck me----so fuck me now.  You ugly bastard, I need your cock bad.”  Tug. “Oh yes, right there---deeper---deeper, now fuck me hard, please.  Hard, HARD!!!”  Tug.

 

He smiled down at me and replied, “You are such a slut, you bitch.  You know you’re a cunt, right?”  He nodded at the men holding my arms and ankles and they let go of me.

 

Tug.  Tug.  I couldn’t help myself.  “Stick that beautiful cock in my pussy.  Fuck me.  Oh God, oh God.  FUCK MEEE HEREEEEE!”  Tug.

 

They stood around the table and watched my first truly uncontrolled climax with a man that night as my ass clenched, my stomach muscles tightened and my legs stiffened.  I slammed my hands on the table repeatedly and whipped my head back and forth like a woman possessed, while my body spasmed and jerked about and my legs intertwined uncontrollably with his.  Finally, I drew long gouges of flesh out of his back with my nails as my vagina clenched around his cock and seemed to draw more of him inside me.  He howled in pain, but never stopped what he was doing.  My ankles were crossed over his lower back now as we struggled in our age-old embrace, and then he was done; but there were more men waiting.

 

Men came in me and got off and other men got on me.  They’d long ago let go of me because I was cooperating fully with them now.  They knew that I was now willing to take care of ALL their needs.  I had one man inside me, my face was turned to the side as I sucked off a second and I was jerking off a third with my hands.  I heard them ask me questions as if from a distance.  I didn’t care what I did or said right now, it was almost like I was on drugs.  I would hear them and I’d take the dick out of my mouth long enough to answer them and then put it back in.

 

The next man to take me had a giant cock and I didn’t even remember if he’d fucked me yet or not.  Tug, tug.  I grabbed his erection and said, “Oh, don’t stop.  Don’t ever stop.  Please fill me with that glorious piece of meat.”  I looked at the man who now had his penis buried in my mouth.  I took him out of my mouth long enough to smile at him and murmur, “I’m a little cocksucker,” and then resumed working on him.

 

“GIVE ME MORE!!!” I demanded of the man between my legs.  Tug.  Lying between my thighs, he hunched his hips and then drove into me.  My head snapped back and I knew that my mouth gaped wide open with his first move; one of the men standing to the side took advantage of me at that moment and filled my mouth again as it opened, but I didn’t care.  The pleasure was so intense that my eyes gave a quick flicker as they attempted to roll back in my sockets.

 

“Squeeze me with your pussy, it’ll feel even better for you; it’ll feel real good for you,” he demanded of me.

 

Tug.  I babbled in ecstasy, “You’re HUGE!  I can do it.  I can squeeze my pussy.  My cunt, it squeezes….good.  It squeezes, oh….so….good.”

 

“That’s right.  Oh, you fucking slut.  Squeeze me you bitch,” he demanded.  “That’s right, squeeze.  Now you fucking whore, if you want more, call yourself a whore.  NOW!”

 

Tug.  “I’m a whore.”  Tug, tug.  “Fuck me, I’m a whore.”  Tug.  “Don’t stop.  I’m a whore.  I need to be fucked…..”  Tug.  “…..by you.”

 

The men standing around laughed.  Someone else said, “You’re a cock-sucking slut bitch and you’ll fuck any man here just to empty him, won’t you.  You’ll fuck anything as long as its got a piece of meat to stick inside you.   Right?”

 

I didn’t care what I said, words had no meaning to me at this point.

 

Tug.  “I’m a fucking slut and a whore.  Yes, I’m a slut.  Fuck me you bastards.”  Tug.  “You’re too slow.  Fuck me and cum in me, cum in my pussy.  Just fuck me!  I’m a cock-sucking slut that loves to be fucked.  Somebody DO ME!!!”

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #27 on: June 06, 2011, 09:36:55 PM »

Offline Jokester

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Somebody else grabbed my face and made me look at them as they asked me, “Deep down inside, you’ve always known you’re a slut—haven’t you?  This excites you---you don’t get to make any choices here, so you’re not responsible either---you get all of the pleasure and none of the guilt; you like having guys fuck you in the pussy and cum in your ass and all over your face, don’t you?”

 

He shook my face and said, “Answer, you whore.”

 

“Yes,” I replied.  “I’m a whore and a slut.  I’m everything you said.  I love having cocks inside me.  I can’t help it, I love it.”  Tug.  “Fuck me.”  Tug.  “Fuck my cunt.  Fuck me in the ass.  Fuck my mouth.  Just fuck me.”  Tug.  Tug.

 

When the man now riding me was finally ready to blow his first load, he pulled out of me, spread his knees on either side of my chest and jerked off, eventually shooting his sperm all over my face and my tits; then he used my long blonde hair to wipe off his slippery wet cock.

 

The remaining men all took their turns and did much the same.  Some came in me and others on me.  One man rolled me over and took me in the ass again.  I pleaded for more and cursed them for not having enough to satisfy me.  At the end, when the alligator clamp was accidentally pulled off once, I begged them to put it back on me.  The sense of anticipation was wonderful and the sharp crushing pain between my legs as it was re-applied had finally turned into a keenly intense, achingly beautiful feeling which drove my sexual need more than anything I had ever experienced.

 

I’d tried to fight it in the beginning, but that had lasted for just the slightest time.  I now finally was experiencing what my recruiters had been telling me all along---that my road to freedom lay in willingly giving control to someone else; in not only accepting the pain that others brought me, but in taking it into me; in understanding the ‘rightness’ of them doing this to me, in somehow making it a necessary part of me.

 

When everyone had taken me at least once, it started over and became more inventive.  I loved it and finally, for the first time in my life, never felt the least inhibited.  Most of the evening was a blur, a blur of pain enjoyed and animal sex; I had no real idea about much of what I had done with these men.

 

At the end, I felt like the monsoon; hot and wet and sticky as the Central American jungle around me.  When the last man was finally drained of all fluids, my hair, my face and my chest were completed covered in semen.  It ran off of my swollen breasts in rivers and sticky strings onto my ribs and then the table.  It ran in globs down the sides of my face, into my ears and onto my neck.  My hair was a darker blonde now because it was matted, sticky and wet from all the cum that had been wiped on it.  My lipstick was smeared all over my mouth and my eyelashes had globs of drying sperm on them.  My eyes were almost glued shut from sticky and drying cum.  There were pools and rivers of sperm on my lower stomach, pussy and on the insides of my thighs.  My ass was sore and draining semen onto the table as I laid there.  I was sore all over.  My clitoris and labia were especially sore, as were the walls of my vagina.  I’d never gone through anything like this before.

 

On the other hand, as I listened to them talk, neither had the men.

 

Now that it was over, I laid on my back on the table with my eyes closed.  I was breathing slowly and trying to collect my thoughts.  The men were all laughing and talking about what a good time they’d had with me and how they’d like to do me again tomorrow evening.  They were laughing about what a whore I was and how lucky I was that they’d been there.  Every now and then one of the men would reach over and grope me again.  I didn’t react to this, but just let it go.  Especially since I was so nasty that none of them really wanted to touch me for long.

 

Besides, in a way I felt a little pity for them.  They had perhaps enjoyed themselves once or twice with me.  I, on the other hand, had enjoyed each and every one of them multiple times.  It just didn’t seem fair now, how limited their experiences were compared to what I had just enjoyed.

 

I laid on the table for almost twenty minutes.  My body felt warm and good and tingly all over; but I soon knew that I must be coming down from my endorphin high.  I had started to feel a little regret at my actions and within minutes after that I was feeling ever more guilt.  There was no doubt in my mind now, I knew for certain that I belonged here---I was property that was owned by a man.  I knew that I was another man’s whore, to be given to other men as my Master pleased.  I had known that I was going to be raped as soon as I’d walked into the room.  I wasn’t even sure that it had been rape since I knew in my heart that after they’d started, I had cooperated in every way with them.  God Victoria, I thought to myself, if you were going to be a whore, at least you could have been a whore with a little class.

 

I thought back to what I’d said to them once I’d been clamped; how I’d babbled and incited them, prompting them, always promising them more.  I’d always believed that a person’s true character comes through in times of emergency, and I now knew that my true character had been hidden all those years---I was nothing more than a base slut that had had a little luck in being raised by a good family.

 

Suddenly I was completely humiliated and disgusted with myself.  No, actually self-hatred was a better description for how I felt right now.  I accepted that I was my Master’s whore now.  And as his whore I knew that I had to service any man that he commanded, but I hadn’t needed to lose control in the way I did.  But at the same time, with what they’d been doing to me I knew that there had been no way that I could have avoided it either.  But that still didn’t stop the guilt.  I felt that I could never again claim to be my father’s daughter because of what I’d done with these men.  I wanted to die.

 

I’d dressed like a slut and acted like a whore without quality, and I had deserved to be treated like one.  It wasn’t the men’s fault, it was all mine.  All they’d done was take advantage of what they’d somehow known I’d been subconsciously offering; I knew that if there was any guilt here for what had happened this evening, it was all on me.  Bossman had been right, there were consequences for actions.  I knew at that moment too that Jorge, Enrique and even The Evil One had been right—they’d known things about me that I hadn’t even known about myself.

 

I lay on the table with one knee raised and I thought I would vomit.  I was the lowest of the low; these men were uneducated trash and yet I’d humiliated myself, reveling in laying in the gutter with them.  I had no right to expect anything from my new Master other than to be used as the main attraction at low-class gangbangs.  I closed my eyes and put my arm over my eyes and began softly sobbing like I was a child again.  I hated it—my head was so fucked up!

 

The leader of the men was smoking a cigar when he walked up to me as I lay on the table, “Get off the table and get cleaned up.  We’ve got a little while before we have to go back to our wives, so get off the table while we finish playing cards.  Get up whore, NOW.”

 

Finally, I stopped crying and with a few sniffles, I slowly and painfully crawled off of the table.  No one offered to help me and since I was still wearing my four inch stiletto ‘fuck-me’ heels, I wobbled precariously for a moment on shaky legs before being able to head towards the bathroom.  My lower back hurt from lying for hours on the flat table with the men’s weight on me and I found it difficult to move.  I went in and stopped just inside the door, resting for a second against the doorjamb with my eyes closed.  Then I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and didn’t like at all what I saw—I didn’t see a beautiful teenage girl with her life ahead of her; instead I saw a slutty whore that had just participated in a full-on gangbang and who had gloried in being dragged down to wallow in the most base levels a decent woman could ever pray to avoid.

 

I leaned over the sink and ran some water into my mouth and rinsed it out.  I washed my face and ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to bring back a little order.  I didn’t have any makeup with me or a hairbrush, so I did the best that I could under the circumstances.

 

My blouse was a shambles with all of the buttons gone and my stockings had runs in them.  My short navy skirt was still in one piece, but was stained a semi-transparent white all over the front from where men had cum on me.  With what little dignity I had remaining, I looked at myself in the mirror again; when I saw what I looked like after my best attempts at grooming, I burst into tears again.  I looked like a whore that had been beaten and ridden hard.  I looked like a whore that had just voluntarily pleasured eight men multiple times with every opening in her body.  I thought I would vomit.


 

I heard the men start calling on me to come out, but I ran some water onto a small washcloth and washed my chest and the insides of my thighs, and then I tenderly cleaned my rear end of the semen that was draining out of it.  Finally, I began trying to clean the semen stains from my skirt and my wreck of a blouse.  Even though I had a few small runs in my hose, after tightening my stockings and tucking my blouse into the top of my skirt to keep it closed over my breasts, I looked a little more presentable.  I slowly walked back out into the game room.

 

There was a soft Latin beat playing on a radio and the lighting was subdued except for over the table.  Without even looking at me, the leader said, “Dance.  Go ahead.  Start dancing for us, you cheap bitch.”

 

I looked at him in silence for a moment and then started to ask him what he wanted me to do, when he interrupted me with, “Shut up and dance, bitch.”  I recognized a peremptory command from my temporary Master, so even though I could barely walk, without another word I slowly began to sway around the room.  Every now and then I would raise my arms over my and close my eyes.  Within a few minutes, I was safe again, cocooned in a world of my own imagination.

 

They didn’t bother me and I ignored them as I moved, refusing to meet their knowing eyes or listen to their mocking comments; instead I imagined that I was safely back in my bedroom in my parent’s house.  My back and feet hurt, and my legs were exhausted from fucking these men, but I danced for over thirty minutes before the men finally finished their game and started leaving---at this point, I was dancing for myself and not for the pigs.  Although tired and sore, I was still swaying my way around the room as the last man left.

 

Finally, it registered that there was no one left in the room and I stopped dancing.  I looked around and then slowly walked over to a couch and sat down.  I pulled my knees up under me as I looked at the table in the center of the room and slowly, tears began to leak from my eyes.  After a moment, I raised my chin and made myself stop crying.  Then, after another moment, I wiped my tears away, laid my head down and closed my eyes in an attempt to sleep.  God, I was so tired, so awful tired of being abused and hurt and used by men.  I just wanted it all to end.  Psychologically bruised, physically and emotionally exhausted, I finally fell into a deep sleep. 


 


 

***

 

I awoke in the morning gasping in pain.  My whole body was sore but it was the insides of my thighs and my vagina and my rear end that were the worst.  I had vague memories of lying on a couch, wrapping my wet, cum soaked clothing around me and falling into an exhausted sleep; of someone picking me up and carrying me; of hands cleaning me and somehow I had ended in a bed with clean sheets and wearing clean cotton panties and a T-shirt.

 

I lay on my side in the bed with my knees drawn up to my chest.  A sheet and thin blanket were pulled over my head as if they could protect me from the monsters that I now knew existed in my world.  The darkness this caused shielded me from danger; I was afraid---afraid of what my future held, afraid of who held me and afraid of how I might respond to the demands he might make.

 

Within thirty minutes of my awaking, a soft knock on the door startled me.  I didn’t move and after a minute, the knock came again.  Finally, I got out of bed and walked stiffly over thick carpeting to the door.  It was locked from my side; I unlocked it and opened it enough to peek through the crack.  Georges stood there waiting patiently. I opened the door a little wider, but still hid behind it.

 

Seeing my face peeking around the door Georges said, “Breakfast is ready when you are.  The dining room is straight down this hall and to your left.”  Pointing with his head to inside my room, he said, “There is a bathroom there and clothing can be found in the closet.”  With that, he nodded his head and departed.

 

There had been nothing in his voice that told me he thought less of me because of last night, no overt acknowledgement of my whorish acts.  Perhaps he didn’t know?  Perhaps he wouldn’t find out?  I later understood that very little escaped Georges.  Even later, I finally realized that he also was one of the very rare people that never judged a person if he hadn’t gone through the same experiences.  He was always a gentleman in this and never let me down.

 

Now awake and up, I began to explore the bedroom in a halting fashion as my muscles worked out the soreness from last night.  The bed was massive and must have been custom-made.  It was larger than a normal king-sized bed and the mattress was incredibly comfortable.  The sheets were of silky feeling Egyptian cotton with at least a 600 thread count.  There was a well lit make-up table in the corner and two comfortable looking over-stuffed chairs.  Located at the foot of the bed, a small upholstered bench sat next to a massive metal-strapped trunk made out of shining dark teak wood.  I later found out that the trunk had been used aboard sailing ships a hundred and fifty years ago in the silk trade between Oman and India.

 

While the bedroom was furnished in more of a comfortable old-world fashion, the bathroom was modern with shining burgundy and dark gray tile and gleaming chrome fixtures.  Drawers on the side of two sink vanity held everything I would ever need; toothbrushes still in the wrappers, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, and razors.  There were also feminine products, although I knew that I wouldn’t be needing tampons for at least another eight months.

 

From here I slowly walked over to two doors built into the wall.  Opening them revealed a large walk-in closet filled with various types of clothing, all my size.  Sexy skirts and blouses and dresses were side by side with more normal jackets and pant suits and various types of tops all hung from racks by the wall.  One side had numerous built-in drawers; and when opened these revealed folded jeans, athletic wear, underwear, socks and pantyhose.  The largest drawers at the bottom held all of my lingerie from the boat, including the stockings that I’d brought with me.

 

Opposite the drawers, rows of shoes stood in straight lines.  They included various flats and comfortable walking shoes, as well as several pairs of tennis and running shoes.  All of the high heels that I’d been wearing for the last thirty days (plus many others that I had never before seen) were also included at one end.  An involuntary shudder ran through my body as I saw them.

 

Getting ready to eat took me over an hour and a half as I knew that I had to shower and shampoo my hair before I did anything else.  I was finally able let my hair dry naturally, because I hated the way that blow driers dried my hair out.  Eventually my makeup was on and I was ready.  Finally, I put on a pair of athletic shorts, a sports halter under a thin cotton top and a pair of ankle socks with workout shoes.  I’d tucked my nipple chain under the sports bra and had put my slave collar on last.  The shining black leather clashed a little with my outfit, but I thought to myself, “What the hell!”

 

I’d been left with no personal possessions after my kidnapping other than the sexy black dress I’d been wearing when taken by the men, so leaving the room unlocked as I went to eat presented no problems.  Following his directions, I had no difficulty in locating the small nook which had apparently been set for me several hours ago.  As soon as I sat down, a young Hispanic girl came up and offered me coffee and asked what I wanted for breakfast.  Ordering a small omelet and dry toast, I ate about half and was full.

 

Almost as if on command, as I lowered my fork for the last time Georges appeared and offered to show me ‘The Master’s’ house.  Thanking him, I stood up and followed him out into the main area.  It took over half an hour for him to show me everything, and even then, we only covered about half of the dwelling---one half was open to my explorations, but the other half was totally closed off to me and it was made clear by Georges that it would forever be off-limits to my investigations.

 

My new Master’s house was huge.  It had a small, well lit work-out room that was immediately off of my bedroom.  The room had walls lined with mirrors and it contained numerous workout machines along with a complete set of weights.  There was a young man already in the room, but he wasn’t working out.  As soon as we walked in, he jumped up and gave me a slight bow.  Georges explained that this was the workout attendant and that he was at my service any time that I wished to use the room.  I knew that I would spend as much time here as was allowed; it would be my escape from a new world over which I had little or no control.

 

There was another light, airy room off of mine that contained a low, wide padded couch or bed along with a couple of mats.  This Georges referred to as my ‘play’ room.  Next to this was a room in which videos and movies could be shown.

 

There was a large library/den combination done in dark wood that must have had a thousand or more books in it.  This room contained a large stone fireplace that looked like it would be the center of the household in the winter when it had a fire in it---it was definitely a room that had been decorated for or by a man.  The maid cleaning and dusting the books ignored our presence.

 

There was another small room in which there were chairs similar to what would be found in a beauty shop and a professional looking massage table.  There was another young smiling Hispanic girl here and Georges told me that I was expected here in another hour to get my hair done and to be given a full-body waxing.

 

There was a large dining room with the center taken up by a large table that could seat at least twelve comfortably.  The walls were covered by expensive looking wallpaper, drapes and two large antique rugs.  The kitchen was a large room, painted and tiled in white and light yellow.  It contained a lot of professional looking equipment used in the preparation of food for large numbers of people at one time.

 

Going downstairs to the first of the subterranean levels, I shuddered as Georges showed me how to get to the game room; this was where I had wound up entertaining so many men last night.  The room was now clean of anything that would have reminded me of last night’s activities.  None-the-less, I knew that I would never again enter this room voluntarily.

 

Finally, he took me to another short, but solid wooden door that was set into the stone wall of the buildings’ foundations.  The thick wooden door was locked and when Georges opened it with another large key, an unpleasant odor carried on cool moist air immediately hit my nostrils.  Georges looked at me and shook his head, saying, “I hope you never have to visit this room.”

 

Leading me in, even before he’d found the light switch and turned on the lights, I knew that there was or at least had been a lot of pain in this room.  My skin was prickling with goose bumps and the hackles on the back of my neck were trying to rise.  When the lights were finally on, I could see that it was an extremely large, almost dungeon-like affair.  The vast space was poorly lit and its walls were made of well fitted stone, as was the floor.  The ceiling looked like it was at least ten feet high and there were several sets of pulleys set in the ceiling above what looked like pits of various types.  There were also several drains in the floor and nearby faucets from which to run hoses.

 

There were numerous kinds of large equipment here, all of it designed for one thing---to bring pain to the human body.  Full-sized wooden H and T and X frames designed to immobilize the body in various positions were located in the center, while there were various types of shackles on the walls.  There were wooden and stainless steel racks of equipment; objects designed specifically to cause injury to the body including pincers, pliers, whips, canes, steel needles of various sizes and branding irons.  Presses and nailed boxes for the foot, the hand and the penis; clamps for the breast and for the nipple, and finally, for the face---all were neatly arranged side by side.  There were leather discipline helmets and hoods of various designs and uses, all neatly hanging on the wall and each was accompanied by matching sets of wide leather ankle and wrist restraints.  There were leather restraining straps that wrapped around the body, specifically made for binding arms and legs.  On the far end, part of the wall contained a small rack of metal handcuffs and sets of chains that were used to bind a prisoner in various positions.  And finally, sitting among large electrical leads, there were numerous items that brought machine pain or electro-love.

 

On another wall there were objects d’amour, designed to show affection to the appointed one in both pleasant and not-so-pleasant ways.  Here there were various types and sizes of gags, dildos and vibrators; there were chains and rods of anal balls of various size and length; there were feather dusters and single long peacock feathers arranged among masks that would not look out of place during the Mardi Gras.

 

I looked at Georges and shuddered.  He nodded his head in agreement and said, “The Master doesn’t like to use this room, but he has men that are trained in these arts if needed.”  Turning on his heel, he led me out of the chamber and locked it behind them.

 

Pointing to another door, Georges said, “That leads to the next level down and to storage rooms and the docks.  You do not need to see the boats at this at this time.”  With this, he led me back upstairs to the room in which I had my beauty appointment.  There, he left me with a nod of his head.

 

Hesitantly, I walked in and looked at the same young woman that was still there.  This girl smiled and pointed at the massage table first.  Apparently, I was to get my waxing first.  Never having had one before, but having talked with friends that had had one, I basically knew what to expect.  My legs and armpits were painful, but the worst was my crotch and rear-end.  The smiling girl left a thin strip of pubic hair just above my clitoris and everything else was removed.

 

From here I was led naked and tingling to a beauty salon chair.  After giving me a towel for a wrap, the same girl trimmed my ends and then did magic with my hair.  When she was finished, I knew that I hadn’t looked this good in…….oh, a month or so!  Getting dressed again, I wandered out and finally arrived at the kitchen where I saw Georges drinking a cup of tea.  Sitting down next to him, I gazed into his eyes and began to question him.

 

“So,” I asked, “who are you?”

 

“I,” after looking at me for a moment, he replied with a simple dignity, “am Georges.  I run this household for the Master.”  He looked at I like I was a very dull girl that had just asked a rather stupid question.

 

“So,” I followed up, “who are the rest of the people here?”

 

Georges looked at me for a second and sighed, “You aren’t going to leave until you get some answers, are you?”

 

I didn’t say anything but just shook my head as I looked at him.

 

“You are such a young girl in so many ways.  Okay,” he said with a tone of resignation, “I’ll try to explain a few things about what goes on here.”

 

“Your Master has owned this house for many years now.  He owns much land around here and the people respect him, they love him for what he gives them.  Many people from nearby work here—they’re…servants….for want of a better word.  They’ve all worked here since they were quite young, or their parents did.  He sends these young people out into the world and pays for their training.  He then brings them back here so that they can be with their families.  Because of this, their loyalty to him is beyond question.”

 

“You on the other hand,” he looked at me impassively, “belong to the Master as does this chair or that table, or the vehicle that we have in the garage.  We do not judge him in this, he just….is.”

 

“There have been many before you,” he continued.  He looked at me with no expression on his face, “And I assume that there will be many after you.  I….try not to get to know the ones like you too well, as it makes my life more difficult.  However, make no mistake.  Even if I am not the Master’s property as you are, I am still the Master’s creature.  Do not mistake me for one that can be corrupted.”

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #28 on: June 06, 2011, 09:38:47 PM »

Offline Jokester

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I listened to Georges and felt remarkably calm for it was much as I had suspected.  From my last day on the boat to my trip here last night and my time in the game room, I’d been surrounded by men that had always had a higher loyalty to my new Master.  I felt an inner piece now as I talked with Georges because I’d finally resigned myself to being a man’s chattel, his property.  Georges had confirmed my status and let me know that while there would be people around all the time, they would be of no help to me if I should ever try to escape.

 

He looked at me, “Would you like to see the grounds?”

 

“Aren’t you afraid,” I asked, “that I might try to escape if I’m let outside?”

 

He shrugged his shoulders, “You won’t be able to get one of the boats to run, so you can’t escape by water.  You are literally tens of miles from anyplace that might give you help.  Everyone for miles in every direction works for the Master or owes him, and they already know that the he’s brought in a new young blonde girl from America.  And it’s not like you do not stand out in the crowd here---what with your looks and your hair and all.  If they find you trying to run away, whoever catches you gets to keep you…..forever.”

 

“Trust me,” he said, “after seeing you, all of the young men here will be on the lookout for you.  You would do better to cut your wrists than to chance that.  And there are still many full-blooded Indians here.  Trust me on this…you do not want to fall into their hands.”

 

With this, they both walked out through the kitchen door onto the manicured and landscaped lawn.  The lawn was huge, and completely surrounded the massive house.  The closest trees were over a hundred meters distant, and even there, the touch of my Master’s servants was obvious.  From there, they walked for over half an hour looking at various fountains and other pieces of garden art.

 

Georges finally now turned and looked at me full in the face.  “You will be meeting your new Master for the first time at dinner tonight.  You will want to take a nap and then do your best to prepare for him.  This will please him.  Go.”

 

Leaving him, I finally found my way back to my bedroom where I was able to go to sleep after laying in my bed for half an hour.  I woke from my nap and saw that I had two hours before I was expected at dinner to meet my new Master for the first time.

 

Finally, I was ready.  I thought about yesterday and how much time I’d spent on my makeup to prepare to meet him.  This time I’d chosen a different tack; this time I’d dressed simply for my first evening with my new Master.  A sheer white blouse with a plunging neckline, no bra underneath, a short chiffon cocktail length skirt in a light print, wide belt, skin-tone stockings that exhibited my long, shapely legs to the best advantage and which were held up by a white lace garter belt and strappy white sandals with four inch stiletto heels.  My only decorations were my leather collar, a pair of silver hoop earrings that I’d found on the dresser and the loop of my nipple chain that was exposed between my cleavage.

 

I had not bothered to gather up my hair, but allowed the silky blonde strands to fall loosely.  I had applied the lightest possible makeup around my eyes, so that nothing would detract from their feline greenness.  Only my moist full lips were more heavily touched up than usual with a soft crimson rouge.  I’d been pleased to see myself in the mirror and especially noted how high and firm my braless breasts were.  Too, my complexion was flawless; I guess there was one thing to be said about a teenager’s raging hormones being tamed by a diet of continuous sex.  Although I didn’t feel this way on the inside, I knew that to everyone else I looked cool, flawless and devastatingly attractive.

 

Escorted by Georges, I entered the study.  The lights were on very low and a large man stood by the fireplace mantle.  It was not a cold night, but good sized pieces of wood were burning in the fireplace; the light from the fire and the lighting was such that the man stood in dark shadow.  He wore a light open shirt and slacks, and was holding what looked like a snifter of some liquor and appeared to be staring into the fire.  Upon my entrance, he turned slightly to look at me.  This move brought his face slightly more into the light and I was able to see something that seemed familiar.

 

As I was escorted closer by Georges, my new Master moved into even more into the light and I felt my knees go weak as I recognized the ruined side of Bossman’s face; Bossman, my new Master?

 

I didn’t know what to say.  I was so tired of being used as a pawn by men, so tired of being treated like a mindless animal, so tired of thinking that I knew what was going on when really I was being set up for some additional humiliation that was supposed to teach me something.  Finally, I was able to unlock my mouth.

 

“Oh God,” I stammered like a small child.  “I didn’t expect you.  I wanted it to be you, but I didn’t expect it to be you.”

 

He looked at me impassively, wordlessly for a moment, and then he said, “Thank you Georges, you may go.”

 

He continued looking at me for a moment further and then replied, “I wasn’t sure whether or not you were worth keeping.  You played games right up to the very end.  That’s why you were……‘tested’ last night.  I had to know for sure if you’ve finally given in to what you know is your new life; if you’ve finally accepted that which you have been fated from the time you were born.”

 

I started to say something and he simply said, “Silence!”

 

I immediately shut up and assumed my position of obedience.  It was then that I realized I had not assumed this position when I had first seen him.

 

Master looked at me for a moment longer, and then he asked, “Are you willing to be here now or will I need to worry about you running away all the time?  You know why you’re here and you know what I expect from you---so do you accept what you are now?  Do you truly submit to your new life?  Think it through and answer carefully.  This is your last chance.”

 

I was looking down as I had been trained, but when I looked up at his question, my eyes sparkled with unshed tears and all I could do was nod my head yes and say in a child-like voice, “I’ll stay…I’m yours……I’ll do whatever you wish.”

 

Nodding his head, he said, “Come with me.”  Bossman led me from the study to the dining room where two places were set on the table.  Georges had supervised setting the meal on a side table and was waiting for us.  Master sat down at the head of the table and looked at me.  As I began a move towards the other place setting, he stopped me.

 

“You,” he explained, “are not the same as the rest of the staff here.  You are in an odd position.  You are less than them……and more.  Don’t make this mistake again---assuming what your place is here.  Here---dining---you will serve me and after I am happy, you will serve yourself.  You may make requests of the maid, but never make the mistake of believing that you are on a higher level than her.”

 

“A piece of advice….treat these people well, for they can make your life hell if they wish.  However,” and here he looked meaningfully at Georges, “if any of them go out of their way to make you miserable, they too will answer to me.  I assume that Georges showed you our little below-ground ‘amusement’ room?”

 

Upon my nod, he continued, “You belong to me now, and all that that pertains.  There actually was a client that had purchased you.  However, I have informed him today that I will be replacing you with another equally serviceable young girl within the week---she will be American of course.  Assuming you are now honest with us and yourself, I could not find it in myself to pass you along---at least not yet.  The timing of your departure from our little family here depends entirely upon you.  It is in your best interest to do your best to please me.”

 

“Is there anything you don’t understand?” he asked me.

 

“No Master.”  And with that, I began my new life with HIM.  I served him his meal, waiting upon his every desire.  At the end, I was able to eat a little as he sat and watched me.  Finally we were finished and we walked, he leading by a step and me carefully following behind, back into the study where the fire had died down slightly.  He approached the fire which had by now burned down slightly and again gazed into the flames.  I stood next to him, not knowing what to do.

 

Standing in back of me as I looked into the fire, he gently laid his hands on my shoulders; my stomach fluttered as if a small hummingbird were trapped there.  He leaned in and I could feel his face as he first sniffed my neck and then kissed me lightly below the ear.  I knew that he didn’t kiss me for me, but rather to confirm to himself that he had taken possession of a new toy.  With his hands, he slowly turned me around until I faced him.

 

He reached down to stroke the inside of my forearm and I shivered.  Nervous anticipation twirled in my stomach.  His fingertips tickled the inside of my elbow.  My gaze swept over his face, taking in the line of jaw, the tendons on his neck, the dark shadow on his chin.  He swiveled to face me, his pupils were dilated and I could smell his excitement.  Heat started in the pit of my stomach and radiated down.

 

He smiled softly, got up and led me to his bedroom.  When we got there, he tossed me on the bed and then headed to the bar to mix himself a drink.  He didn’t ask what I wanted and made me no offer.  He made a show of unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, making sure that I saw a good display of his muscles.  Slowly, he approached the bed and joined me on it.  As his lips moved down my neck, I couldn’t help myself---I twisted my face, nuzzling his neck and inhaling the musky smell of him.  I moved to the hollow in his collarbone and felt his heartbeat leap.

 

He kissed me and I could feel the heat from his body, so familiar from my dreams that I could drown in it.  The rich scent of him wafted through my brain, as intoxicating as peyote smoke.  I moved back a little and he pushed me against the headboard, his hands sliding to my hips and gripping hard.  His lips went back to mine, kisses deepening.

 

Suddenly, I felt my hands pulled in back of me and levered up towards the back of my head, pulling me off of the bed and forcing me to my knees.  I still hated not being able to move and tried to pull them down, but he held them tight.  I felt him moving and suddenly I was tied to the ceiling by thin soft ropes.  I jerked my arms, but they only moved a couple of inches before the bonds on my wrist snapped tight.  I felt a brief flare of resistance to my situation, but I knew that it was from the old me and fought it down.

 

Once I was secured, he walked around and knelt over me, obviously pleased with what he was seeing.  Still smiling, he took hold of the top of my blouse and ripped it down the middle.  I started to say something, but stopped, inhaling sharply.  He’d taken my breast in my mouth and was teasing the nipple with his teeth.  He flicked his tongue and it sprang up hard. 

 

His hand moved from my breast and began to stroke my stomach, moving lower with frustrating slowness.  I had an unbidden image of his naked body over me, and the lust flared.  He shifted and I could feel his erection slide up my thigh.  I spread my legs a little and felt the roughness of his pants brush against me.  Then he pulled back. 

 

“Can you feel it?” he asked.  “Where do you feel it?” 

 

He touched the inside of my thigh, just long enough to make my heart skip. 

 

“Do you feel it here?” 

 

He slid his hands further down my nylons to the inside of my knee, tracing the path of the chills coursing through me. 

 

“Can you feel it?” he asked, his face coming closer to mine. 

 

I started to close my eyes. 

 

“Don’t,” he said.  “Watch me.”

 

Under my skirt, his fingers slowly traced up my nylon clad thigh.  He toyed with me for a moment, and then plunged his fingers into me.  I let out a gasp.  His fingers moved inside of me, finding the center of my excitement.  I bit my lip to keep from crying out.  Just as I could feel the waves of climax building, my brain kicked in and I realized what I was doing.  I closed my eyes tight and jerked my arms hard against their bindings. 

 

The metallic whir of a zipper cut through the night air.  My eyes flew open to see him pulling his pants down over his hips.  As I saw the hunger in his eyes and his body, my hips moved up unbidden to meet him.  He was as I had remembered from a month ago.  Massive, inhumanly large and ready for me again.  I shook my head sharply, trying to clear it.  I twisted away.  He bent down, his face coming to mine. 

 

“I won’t force you this time.  All you have to do is tell me no.” 

 

He waited a moment.  “Tell me to stop.  Tell me to untie you.  I will.” 

 

His hand slipped between my thighs, parting them before I could clench them shut.  Heat and wetness rushed out to meet him, my body betraying me.  I felt the tip of him against me, but he didn’t go any further. 

 

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.  “Just tell me.” 

 

I looked at him, but the words wouldn’t come to my lips.  Then he grabbed me under the arms and lifted me up for a second---before pushing into me.  My body convulsed.  For one long second, he didn’t move.  I could feel him inside me; oh God, could I feel him as his hips pressed against me.  He pulled back slowly and my body protested, moving involuntarily against him as best it could, trying to keep him inside.  I felt his arms go over my head.  My bindings jerked once, then parted in his hands.  Now he thrust fully into me and my resistance snapped.  I grabbed him, hands entwining in his hair, legs wrapping around him.

 

Standing slowly with me impaled upon him, my Master walked to the bed and lowered me upon it.  Gently pushing me away from him, he stood again.  I held my arms out to him as my hips ached to be pressed against him when he filled me.  But, after a moment, the heat began to cool and I closed my eyes in frustration.

 

“Lie back…….this might take awhile.”  Master lay down beside me and urged me to my knees; now he drew me down on his groin.  He watched intensely as I pulled up my skirt a little and settled down on top of him.  I began to move, trying to react to him as I thought he might want, but he slowed me down.  “Not yet,” he scolded me, pressing his hand between my legs.  “Take your time.”

 

For him, this wasn’t about release.  It was about suspense---the sweet anticipation inherent in fine lingerie, the scent of chocolate with raspberries, an ice cube melting.  He well understood the poetry of foreplay, how to bait a woman into giving him that which she had not planned.  How to make a woman desire senseless indenture.

 

I leaned forward on him and slowly began removing the wreckage of my blouse.  Suddenly, even though his slave, I felt like I needed to take risks.  I leaned further forward and pressed my naked skin against his chest. “What do you think about when you’re all alone in your big house?  Master?”

 

“I think you know.”

 

“Tell me,” I demanded, grabbing his hands and using them to cup my breasts.

 

“You are starting to play games with me again,” he rumbled back at me.

 

“Tell me that you think about this.”  As I continued down this dangerous path, I knew that I was teasing him, taunting him, but I couldn’t help myself.  I lifted myself onto my knees and pulled my skirt high enough for him to see how my thighs looked where my stockings ended and that I wasn’t wearing panties.

 

“Tell me what you’d have me do?”  I pulled his hand up between my thighs to show him that finally, I too was ready.

 

He pulled his hand from between my legs and pushed me onto my back.  It happened so quickly that I was almost frightened by the speed with which he’d moved.  I lay there on the bed in front of him with my blouse off, my skirt up around my mid-thighs and my legs spread.  He moved until he was between my legs and he slowly put his hands on the insides of my knees and pushed them further apart, then he slid my skirt up around my waist.

 

Lowering his head, he slowly began to suck on her clit.  He’d thought about this moment since the last time that he’d taken her.  After a moment in which he struggled to find it, he captured it with his teeth and tortured her for a moment, before he grabbed it between his lips and tugged on it.  He looked up in time to hear her breath hiss in and watch her close her eyes, and throw her head back to the right.  He whispered to himself, “Salty candy.  Nothing but salty candy.”  Wolf continued his assault on her vagina with his mouth and M responded to every move he made.  When he brought a vibrator into play, she actually whined in anticipation as she waited for him.

 

Moving up, he gentled his mouth, sucking at her breast, feeling her relax and then nipping her again, pinching her nipple between his teeth and haring her moan in anguished pleasure.  His hand moved back into the warm wetness between her legs, to explore her as his mouth applied the exquisite torture to her breast.  His fingertips parted, probed, hunted, and found---invaded and stroked---and her hips arched begging for more.

 

So he gave her more.  Her vagina was becoming extremely moist and productive.  She was so wet now that it almost seemed as if she was letting down buckets of melted love.  Victoria felt him eventually spread her lips with his fingers in order to enter her---he didn’t need a lubricant since her vaginal flow was now so heavy she was constantly excreting a thick pearly, almost clear fluid.  A strong musky smell now emanated from between her legs like waves of heat off of a hot country road; nature had specifically designed a woman like this to ensure that men found her irresistible.

 

His first move was to slowly go to almost his maximum depth inside her; she shuddered once, not realizing that he had not yet completely sheathed himself in her.  After he’d held himself motionless for half a minute, he started to work her.  He took his time and it went on and on, until she was uncontrollable beneath him.  Finally he felt her whole body hold on to him; her arms grabbed him around his back, her legs wrapped around his waist and her vagina clamped onto his cock.

 

I couldn’t help myself; I was still sore enough that I felt myself make an involuntary face as he slowly spread me apart for his first entrance.  I focused on his face as I felt him position himself high on my belly and hips so that his every move, in or out, rubbed the top of his erection against my clitoris.  The rigid veins on his cock stood out in stark relief against his black skin and felt like huge knobs that had been put on this earth for just my pleasure.

 

As wet as I was for him, I was afraid that I was still too sore from last night to be able to be able to adequately respond.  It felt like he was putting a spike through my heart.  His first move to slowly impale me showed his instinctive mastery of my body; I felt helpless and totally vulnerable to him.  My pussy literally physically ached as his massive cock first filled and then over-filled the walls of my vagina; my clit was intensely sensitive, almost super-sensitive to his every movement and my labia and the walls of my vagina screamed their tenderness with every move that he made.

 

He knew the time had come.  He could fill her as she lay on her back; make her cry out for mercy, the mercy that he didn’t feel for her or any other woman.  But now he had a goal, he needed to be able to go deeper inside her, much, much deeper.  He needed to position her to receive his gift of total domination; pose her in exactly right way to ensure that he took away the last vestiges of her freedom, of her ability to think for herself.

 

His next move was to raise himself off of her chest and hook his hands behind her knees.  As he raised himself up, he brought her legs up around and against him and pulled her knees into his chest so that her legs were now locked straight and immovable.  Her heels were now up by his shoulders, but at the same time he leaned forward onto her and kept his weight on her hips as he pushed her legs back towards her chest.  She was pinned beneath him like a helpless young doe.  The act of locking her legs and raising her hips into the air even as she was impaled by him, now allowed him to physically penetrate her to the very tip of her femininity and even more if he desired---the great blunt purple/black head of his steel hard penis now rested at the very uppermost tip of her vagina and pushed hard against her cervix.  It was a position he’d perfected with numerous women in the past.

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #29 on: June 06, 2011, 09:49:45 PM »

Offline Jokester

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Victoria knew that she was powerless before him.  He grimly continued to drive into her, relentlessly working her body until she was finally reacting helplessly to his unending and unforgiving patience.  Then he lifted her legs against his chest and bore down even more on her hips, penetrating her deeper than any man before him.  Even so, she was thankful that he always knew exactly how deep to penetrate before he caused her too much pain.  In this, he gave her great satisfaction, but not the anguish that she feared from his moves for she was totally dependent upon his humanity in this single kindness.

 

Finally, she began to cum.  The walls of her vagina were clamped around his great penis in way that let him know exactly how wonderful was the pleasure that he’d given her.  And at that exact moment of orgasm, as has occurred to all women throughout time, her cervix had begun to spasm and prepared to unfold to receive even more deeply his sperm; to open and take it and suck it profoundly deeper into her womb, to ensure that her fertility kept the species alive.

 

He kept his cock fully buried in her, pushing at the end until there was that final physical resistance to him in her body over which even she had no control---he could literally go no deeper into her.  But with her in this position, he still had shaft yet to spare for his victim; there was iron-fleshed tool still dry and as yet unused, poised and eagerly waiting to assert its mastery over her.  He lay on her and inside her and watched her face; he looked at her and calculated her body’s reactions; he waited for exactly the right moment, exactly the perfect moment in which he could ensure that she would become his willing slave forever.  He waited and he waited for the ideal moment as she continued to cum beneath him; and as he waited for exactly the right instant at the height of her orgasm, he knew that it was as if she were begging him to finally master her, totally and completely.

 

Inevitably, her moment of total subjugation had come.  As her cervix convulsed and finally opened to receive his gift of life, and he felt at the tip of his erection that quick, momentary release of the barrier inside her body that had been resisting his iron-fleshed will, with one move of his hips he plunged the head of his brutish cock almost another inch into her body, directly into the opening of her lower cervix.  He pushed in and pinned her, piercing her at an unimaginable depth as he had so many women before her. 

 

Taken unaware and powerless, her muscles now unresponsive, M’s face initially showed an odd look that somewhat resembled surprise or horror as she lay immobilized beneath his hips.  Successful in his maneuver, he now shrugged his shoulders almost contemptuously and allowed her legs to fall slowly, nervelessly away from his chest.  They made a whispery sound as her nylons moved along his flesh of his shoulders and her legs dropped away from him and flopped to the bed.  Lying on the mattress now, each of her legs landed spread far apart, the insides of her ankles and her knees and her thighs were open to the ceiling---she could be no more exposed or defenseless if she’d tried.  But she had no thoughts as to the vulnerability of her lower body at this moment---there were almost no thoughts in her mind at all right now.

 

To ensure that he retained his mastery of her femininity, as their relative positions had changed with him allowing her legs to fall to the mattress, he’d leaned even further into her hips to ensure that he had maintained the full depth of his massive presence inside her body.  She was fully pierced and she was his; he now moved to ensure that he kept her that way.

 

A woman’s cervix is a small and tender organ; the opening in it is even smaller.  When it opened to receive his semen, the opening was still small compared to the size of his manhood.  It was never meant to be used this way and in such a brutal fashion.  He neither knew this nor would have cared had he known.  But the one thing he did know is that flesh stretches and endures.  By forcing himself into her like this, what he had done to her, like he had to so many other helpless women before her was an act of absolute sexual savagery.  But for his purposes, it worked.

 

This one had been important to him, and he was pleased to know that she wasn’t any different than the rest of them.  He watched her body react without conscious thought to his move, just as he had watched so many women react to this move before her.  Under his breath, he softly muttered, “Got you, bitch.  NOW you’re mine.”

 

First she lay frozen: it was as if she been anesthetized by him, left immobile and helpless as she lay beneath him; her eyes were wide open and almost bugged out as she faced the ceiling, but she didn’t blink—she saw nothing right now.  Her mouth opened and went into a perfect ‘oh’ shape as she sharply inhaled until her lungs could hold no more.  Beads of sweat appeared magically appeared on her upper lip and her forehead as her head slowly, mindlessly, began to turn from side to side.  Even as her face continued its reasonless turning from left to right and then back again, she never once blinked her bulging eyes.  At the same time, she lay beneath him with her limbs splayed out in ugly helplessness, her arms and legs extended and frozen into crooked immobility.  Nothing of her moved, not her legs nor her arms, not her fingers nor her toes.

 

As I lay totally still beneath him, all animation in my body became suspended as my Master prepared me for my own personal version of nirvana---and of hell.  It seemed that my blood had turned into an icy solid, like my veins and arteries were filled with slow moving or even stationary glacial ice of the most profound blue color.  Very little thought was going on in my head, but in the deepest corners of my mind I knew that he could go no deeper into me.  He had been painfully pushing at the tip of my womb, and then somehow, incredibly, he’d managed to invade even deeper inside my body.  He was so deep inside me now that with his final thrust he’d inflicted so much pain on me that I was paralyzed.  He’d hurt me terribly with his move, but I couldn’t even scream my pain.  All I could do was lay paralyzed beneath him and try to survive.

 

He had thrust a telephone pole inside me as far as it would go, and then it seemed, he had been able at the end to somehow push it a foot or two even deeper.  I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe.  There was a blinding, freezing, immobilizing, all-consuming pain that began in my loins and which spread crashing throughout my body like a tidal wave.  The only sound I heard was that of rushing blood in my ears.

 

Wolf called this ‘sticking’ them.  To the woman, the pain at first was excruciating.  It was as if a titan had taken her and had somehow erotically pinned both her body and emotions against a cosmic tally board like a prime piece of exotic meat.  He’d asked them before what had happened to them at this moment, but none could explain.  He had no idea of what it must feel like, of what she must be experiencing at this exact moment; but it had happened like this every time he’d done this to one of his women.  But one thing of which he was absolutely sure of was how it would end, of how it always ended; he knew he’d just successfully done to her what he’d done to so many other women before her.

 

He thought of his Australian beauty: about how he had taken another man’s bride on her wedding day and turned her into his willing personal sex slave; of how after he’d healed her mind, like the young girl that lay beneath him now, she’d assumed a position of frozen rigor upon his monumental penetration of her body.  And as her body had eventually thawed from his brutal thrust and when the pain had finally receded from inside her, how she’d screamed her desire for him and her undying love.  He thought about how at the end, he’d become her one true Master and she his true slave, and how she had willingly allowed him to do anything to her, including selling her to another, because she knew that this was what he wanted.

 

He thought back to the gorgeous German girl that he’d taken directly from her father in the Dominican Republic---how his massive piercing of her body like this had first penetrated her to her heart and transfixed her, how it had turned her blood to sleet in her veins as she froze solid beneath his hips and belly.  He thought of how her hips had slowly begun moving under him again as her blood had eventually melted from its icy state and how in the end she had become one of the hottest, most submissive and truly sexually dependent pleasure slaves that it had ever been his fortune to possess.  And, as with the others, it seemed her personality had been totally changed after he’d stuck her like this.

 

He knew too what it did to all of them subsequently, how they all had always reacted after being stuck.  How, in conjunction with the drugs and coming at the end of everything else he’d put them through, it changed them, seemingly forever.  Every one of them had wound up being totally enslaved mentally, emotionally and physically after he’d manipulated them this way.  He slowly relaxed on M’s body as a feeling of satisfaction came over him.  His giant erection withdrew slightly from the territory it had conquered, but there was no doubt who was king here.

 

I lay as if stunned beneath him and felt myself controlled, as if I were an insect nailed with my arms and legs spread wide to a piece of felt in some great erotic collection of his.  I couldn’t move---I didn’t dare move because if I did, I knew that I would surely die and fall into two separate pieces, my body broken at the waist.  As I laid there helpless, one tiny part of me tried to analyze what I felt, what feelings were ricocheting around my lungs and my abdomen, into my arms and my legs, but I couldn’t.  All I could do was endure.

 

I later found out that he routinely did this to all of the female slaves that he kept.  After about forty-five seconds---or forty-five years, the pain had washed throughout my body and had crashed back to where it began, as if it had reached barriers somewhere that wouldn’t allow it to depart my body.  As the waves of pain coming back met at the source of all of my anguish, it seemed that they began to cancel each other out and I sensed that my agony was finally beginning to decrease a little---or perhaps I was getting used to the pain.  Nonetheless, with this I felt some small bit of life begin to return to my body again as I lay under his hips.  As I guess with all of the others before me, it started slowly with my eyelids and fingers and arms, eventually spreading to my toes and feet, and eventually my trunk.  First I felt my eyelids flutter once.  And then my eyelids fluttered again, and finally I was able to blink.  I’d always been aware of the full weight of his body on mine, but my vision had failed momentarily.  I now could begin to move a little beneath him; and then I could move even more as my body came back to life.  Finally I was able to exhale a little to make a small sound, but all I could do was say, “Oooooooooooh Ggggoddddddd!” as I breathed out the used air that had built up in my lungs.

 

The overall blinding pain between my legs and inside my abdomen continued to slowly recede and I was able to move even a little more.  It was then that I felt the heat begin in my loins as a small gentle blaze, which within seconds had exploded into an out-of-control wildfire.  All I could say a second time was “Oooooooooooh Goddddddd!”  I couldn’t control myself.  It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced---my arms and legs felt as if they’d been thawed and were free to move now, and they moved almost with a mind of their own around and over and on him.

 

But my hips were still frozen in place by the steel-like bar of his flesh that was buried so impossibly and still painfully deep inside my belly.  My skirt was rumpled up around my waist; and as that had been ground between us as he moved on me, it kept me in touch with the more normal sensations of my skin and my body.  Finally, the fire in my loins had thawed the black ice in my frozen belly to the point where I could begin to move again despite the ache his firmly buried cock was still causing.  Once I started to move in response to his presence, I knew that there was no way that I could stop myself; there was no way that I WANTED to stop myself.  I knew that I’d finally become for him exactly that which I’d swore that I would never be for ANY man.

 

I heard myself begging him for more of his cock, for yet deeper and harder penetrations of my pussy by him.  Even though I knew he would hurt me even more, I found myself grabbing him and pulling on him to get him closer to me, to get him deeper inside me.  There were no limits to the slut/whore/cuntdom that I wouldn’t go to get what I needed from him now.

 

After about a minute or so, again like the others before her, M was finally able to claim everything he had to give her.  Sweat was pouring off of her now just like all of his previous conquests; and like the others too, she was making frenzied claims on every part of his body.  He gave her what she demanded, but still always watched from afar as she approached, achieved and went past a second, impossibly higher and even more intense orgasm.  He lay upon her sweaty belly and watched almost impassively as her arms and legs were thrust akimbo, moving in an almost mindless fashion, just reacting to his deep presence inside her.

 

She screamed and cried; she clawed at his shoulders, back and buttocks.  Her legs intertwined with his and then untwined to wrap around his waist again.  But this time, in the throes of a true mindless passion, she squeezed him with her thighs locked around his waist until he found it hard to breathe.  He was making long, smooth, slamming thrusts into her belly now, not trying to keep anything from her or himself.  His cock now was wet to the hilt with her juices as he ensured time after time that she enjoyed; no, that she was punished with every inch that he had to give her.  M was throwing her head back and forth in a manic frenzy of physical desire, babbling her love and her lust for him.

 

He kept pushing into her and she kept pushing him higher and higher, begging for more and more, when suddenly he began to cum; as he ejaculated, it seemed that she had been filled to the top with his scalding hot semen as he came and came and came.  And as he was cumming, her desire seemed to reach a crescendo which lasted about thirty seconds, after which she collapsed beneath him.  She was drenched in her own sweat, sucking great heaving lungfuls of air, even as he was calm and controlled above her.

 

And finally, I had gotten for now what I needed from him.  After a moment he rolled off of me.  I lay there beside him breathing heavily and then I shivered slightly as the sweat on my chest began to dry.  My mind was flying a million miles a minute---I felt so good right now.  I tingled all over my body and I felt a general, wonderful sense of well being.  A gentle feeling of warmth seemed to be suffusing into every aching muscle and joint and I was experiencing an almost religiously profound feeling of pleasure.  I stretched luxuriously and turned to look at Bossman with adoration.

 

I now knew instinctively that my capitulation to him a month ago had only been the beginning and that all of my vows and tricks and games since then had been as the act of a small child to its parent.  He was truly my Master and he owned me totally---he owned me body and soul; I knew it now, and I knew that he knew it too.  I was nothing but a creature of his will; his pleasure slut and his whore.  He owned every inch of my flesh and every hole in my body, and I was willing to do anything he desired in order to bring the smallest pleasure to his day.  I wanted nothing more than to belong to him---forever.

 

We lay there on his bed, drenched in sweat, chests heaving to replenish oxygen used just moments ago.  Neither of us spoke for several minutes, but finally he turned on his side and just looked at me.  I looked at him and smiled as I said, “What?”

 

I reached out to touch the fanciful part of his face and he pulled back and said, “Don’t.”  I pulled my hand back and just stared at the ceiling.  This impasse continued for several minutes until it began to get uncomfortable for me.  Finally, I again turned to look at him and asked, “Master, what happens to me now?”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “You belong here….to me.  You are the prize, you’ve always been the prize.  More than that, I can’t say right now.”

 

For me, even though I wasn’t sure what he meant, that had to good enough.  I knew what my fate was now, and in some ways I was not only glad, but happy that it had happened to me.  I had traded in my freedom for happiness and the chance to discover the true me.  What more can a girl ask than that?

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #30 on: June 16, 2011, 06:13:51 AM »

Offline Jokester

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My skirt was still bunched up around my waist and uncomfortable, so after looking at Master for permission, I eased it off but left everything else on.  We lay in bed for thirty minutes when suddenly Master got up on his elbow to look at me.  He then reached over to the side of his bed and picked up a tube of lubricant, telling me to put it on him.  After I had lavishly applied the lubricant on him, without any hesitation or subtlety, he said, “Roll over, I’m going to take you again.”

 

Not sure that I had heard him correctly, I looked at him in disbelief and after a moment said, “Master, please.  This is something that frightens me---please, I’m not yet used to it like that.  You want to take me from the rear?  Even though you know that I’m afraid that you’re so big that you’ll hurt me---forever?  It was so good for us the other way, can’t we do that again?  Please Master, don’t do this to me yet, give me time to get ready, please!”

 

My Master looked at me in the eyes and said, “We’ll do it slowly, M.  Slowly.  It is not your body that I desire so much, but rather your innocence.  The answer to your question is……..roll over, NOW”

 

I looked at him for a moment with tears in my eyes and without another word rolled over onto my stomach.  I kept my chest up on my elbows and spread my legs for him.

 

Bossman told her, “No.  Get up on your hands and knees.”  Having undergone all of her obedience training in the last month, he was pleased that she immediately scrambled to all fours just as he’d instructed.  He now moved between her spread legs and up against the back of her thighs and her ass.  He knew that this would give him a little better angle on his initial penetration of her body.  He really had no plans to go slow with her from this point on, but what she was worried about was of no consequence, no real concern of his.  Once he had her where he wanted her, his options with her would be unlimited and her choices would be exactly zero.

 

He slowly slid his hands up the back of her thighs, finally sliding over the top of her nylons and on up to what was his ultimate goal.  When they reached her ass he slowly spread her cheeks apart and bared her puckered brown hole.  He enjoyed running his hands over her muscular buttocks and finally he spread them wide to see his brown, puckered target; it looked good, abnormally enlarged and ready for him to penetrate.  He was glad that he’d had his men working on her from the beginning, because he’d known that it would come to this from the first minute that he’d first seen photos of this teenager.  ALL of his pleasure slaves eventually took it in the ass from him---if they couldn’t handle it there, they were moved on and sold.  After he played with her for a minute, his hands dropped between her legs again and he slowly massaged her wet pussy for a minute.

 

Oh God, I was glad that he was going slowly with this.  He was so massive that if he wasn’t patient, he would kill me, he would literally kill me.  The tip of his manhood was the size of an apple and his shaft the size of my wrist---he was just too big for me.  I was frightened that I wasn’t physically prepared for him---frightened that he would seriously hurt me as he did this; yet at the same time I tried to mentally prepare myself to do this for him.  I wanted this to be successful more than anything in the world and I wanted to please him.  I was determined to give him the satisfaction that he craved from me this way, even though I knew that it would hurt me sp terribly much.  And even if it went against my upbringing and my nature, I knew that it was his right now to do whatever he wanted with my body.  He moved against the back of my thighs and I felt his hands on my hips.  Then his hands went away and I felt him pull my cheeks apart with one of his hands as he guided himself to his objective with his other.

 

“Just relax yourself,” he said.  “We’ll take our time with this.”

 

His reassurances helped calm my fear.  As I tried to relax my anal sphincter, I could feel his penis start to sink into me slightly.  Having affected his first entry, he now placed his hands on my waist as he rolled my hips around and rocked himself back and forth, slowly sinking in a little deeper with each move.  I was so glad that we were going to be deliberate and take our time.  I heard myself moan softly; God he was huge!

 

Somehow, the bulbous tip of his penis slid without too much difficulty past my first defenses and into me, and I could feel my sphincter muscles stretch to accept him and then lock onto the groove behind his great circumcised head.  Although painful and exceedingly uncomfortable, the month-long efforts of his men at making me large enough for him were apparently successful.  At first he only moved a little, giving me only a taste of what I knew must be coming.  But even this little made my cry out in pain.  The pain at this point was a sharp, yet dull ache, accompanied by a tremendous feeling of my flesh being stretched to the point that it might tear.  Oh God, he was so big!

 

He was still upright on his knees and his were inside of mine, continually forcing my thighs even further apart.  He was behind me touching the backs of my thighs and leaning slightly over me, his hands were both on my hips now and they clenched my flesh painfully.  Then he began to move his hips and enter me more fully---thankfully he still took his time.

 

He looked down at her and could see her long blonde hair hanging down and covering much her face.  Through the fall of her hair, he could see that she had her eyes closed and that her mouth hung open in pain.  She was panting slightly as if from exertion, and tiny gasping sounds were coming out of her with each breath.  Every time he moved against her, her hair would gently sway and M’s head would rise up as if pain and she would give out a soft moan.

 

He looked down at her tiny waist and beautiful asscheeks as they approached, yet never touched him.  He still had many inches to go before he was fully sheathed in her ass and it took every bit of his willpower to avoid punishing her with one major thrust.

 

Her beautiful full breasts hung down and swayed with every move of his body against hers.  Her gorgeous nipples were erect---this greatly turned him on even though he knew it was due to her fear of him and the unknown---there was no passion here yet.  But at the same time, he knew that it was right that she should fear him in this, for here is where he would either damage her permanently as he had the Venezuelan police woman of long ago or turn her into his next ‘permanent’ lover.  This moment on this night, he knew, would determine her future for the next few years, determine whether or not she was worthy of keeping or was to be passed on to another, lesser owner.

 

He no longer had the patience to go slow or the desire to wait for her body to prepare to receive him with minimal pain.  Rather, he now reached forward and grabbed both of her elbows with his hands and then he pulled back hard, forcing her upper body to collapse to the bed beneath them.  At the same time, even as she was falling to the mattress he began his first major thrust into her still tight ass with a single move of his hips.  His weight was on her back, riding her as she crumpled and hit the mattress.  And as her body came to rest with a single bounce, he continued his drive into her by pushing hard with his hips and his thighs.  In one smooth magical move, his huge black glistening cock disappeared completely inside her.  The effect upon Victoria was immediate and electric.

 

I felt him hit my elbows and myself falling to the bed underneath him.  Then I couldn’t help it, I was screaming as the full length of his huge erection was rudely and unexpectedly rammed into me to the hilt.  I felt his nuts slap me between my legs---and then I felt like I was being torn in half, it hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before.  I knew that he had torn my flesh with this initial drive into me and as I lay beneath him sobbing and screaming, he muffled my screams and shrieks for mercy by pushing my face into the bedding.

 

It was awful!  His weight was heavy upon me and he didn’t move again for almost a minute.  He just lay between my legs and upon me and kept my hips pinned beneath his while my face was pushed into the mattress.  My legs were splayed wide apart and I had my hands up by my shoulders as if to do a pushup.  I could feel his hard thighs pushing against the back of my legs and his weighty, hard muscled body lay upon me and kept me from breathing.  At first, I was blinded by tears running down my cheeks, but slowly, finally, it seemed that I had started to become numb to his giant presence inside me.

 

Bossman lay upon M and kept her impaled with his erection as he looked at her blonde hair beneath him.  He gloried in the feel of her tight ass as it clenched upon him and then let go, only to grab him again and again.  He loved the way his thighs brushed against the insides of hers and how her nylons felt against his legs as they ended at the tops of her thighs.  He gloried in the multitude of sensations that he was able to take from her body; her tight asshole around his cock and her muscular buttocks erotically pushed into his groin, the backs of her nylon covered legs rubbing against the front of his thighs, her narrow waist and firm, sweaty back and soft skin beneath his belly and chest, the clean smell of her long blonde hair in his face, the strangled sobs and soft cries of pain---it all overloaded his senses.

 

Finally, he knew that it was time to begin the dance that would decide M’s ultimate fate.  Wolf began to move his hips in a slow, yet irresistible movement that wouldn’t be denied, could never be stopped.  M again began screaming and after a moment, he stopped again.  He was pleased with her though, because regardless of all of her screaming and obvious pain, she had never once tried to buck or throw him off of her.  Even though she was still too vocal in accepting the discomfort due her as a pleasure slut, he was glad that she had finally appeared to learn to accept her new role in life.

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #31 on: June 16, 2011, 06:14:43 AM »

Offline Jokester

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God, he’s started pounding into me again and he wouldn’t stop.  I cried and screamed as he pulled out of me and then did the same as he drove into me again.  Finally, after about a dozen long, deep thrusts into me, he stopped for about a minute and kept his erection buried inside me all the way again.  I had my eyes closed and couldn’t see anyway because of my tears---and the worst part was that I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.  It was as if his existence so deeply inside me somehow prevented me from breathing; it wasn’t the pain his presence there caused---that was overpowering, but that still wasn’t it.  Rather, it was as if his physical presence somehow took up the space that I needed for breathing.  It was as if his existence so profoundly deep inside me somehow stopped my diaphragm and lungs from working, making it hard for me to inhale.  At the same time, the bottomless depth at which his flesh was buried in mine was still causing me great pain---but in a way that made me feel like maybe I would soon be anesthetized there if he didn’t move too much; perhaps there was a possibility that I could finally learn to please him this way if only he’d allow me the chance.

 

After giving her a moment to recover, he told her to get on her knees again, but to leave her forehead on the mattress.  He had to mostly pull out of M and take his weight off of her hips in order for her to be able get her ass back in the air for him again.  She struggled and when she had finally succeeded in getting her hips up, he again entered her.  This time he was able to quickly penetrate her and he chose to give her only about two inches this time.  This brought another heartfelt scream from her and again he temporarily pushed her face into the mattress to muffle her.

 

When M had finally gotten back on her knees, even has he pushed her face into the mattress, he ordered her to begin masturbating herself with her left hand.  At the same time, he was now able to grab both of her breasts and use them to pull her body towards his hips.  His hands were cruelly gripping and fondling her breasts and when she cried out in pain, he told her to move with the pain.  Eventually Victoria understood what he meant and she began to push on the mattress with her free right hand and back away from the head of the bed towards him in an attempt to relieve the pressure of his hands on her breasts.  He was pleased again with her level of obedience as she never stopped playing with herself with her left hand as she pushed on the bed with her right.

 

Moving back against him also meant that her only chance of reducing the pain he was causing to her breasts was to impale herself upon his huge cock again.  Broken and perfectly tamed now, she cried out and groaned as she determinedly forced herself upon him, never once wavering in her resolve to follow his every command and exchange the pain in her breasts for the pain of his full penetration in her ass.  After a minute or so, she was grinding her ass against his groin and she firmly fixed upon his cock again; she could go no further back against him.  She was continually groaning and grunting now, but whether due to his grasp on her breasts or his cock buried in her ass, he couldn’t tell.  This was a great moment in their relationship, for he now had evidence that she’d been perfectly broken; that the feeling of independence that she’d loved so was gone and that she was his mentally as well as physically.

 

I had backed onto him as far as I could and it hurt me a lot to do so, but he didn’t seem to care---he just pulled on my breasts and kept me pinned against his hips.  It was at this point that I began to realize the pain of him inside me was receding and that it was finally beginning to feel---if not good, then at least acceptable.  I later realized that the way he filled me at this point seemed beyond what my physical body could hold and that he had extended the walls of my body beyond their material limits---and that it was this feeling of total lack of control over both myself and everything around me that had begun to drive me towards my first anal orgasm.

 

I was finding that for me, while accepting him inside me like this caused me pain and not much pleasure yet, the erotic part---the part that really turned me on---was the act of submitting to his will and doing something that I would never have considered on my own.  This single act of my willingly offering to him every aspect of my freedom automatically made him exempt from the laws that ruled the average men and women, and allowed him to do wonderful things to me; his paintings upon my body featured freely brushed strokes of love, if not tenderness.

 

This time, when he started moving inside me again, it still hurt, oh God, did it still hurt, but somehow I wanted more.  I cried out as he pulled out and then I screamed again in some pleasure as plunged back inside me again.  I finally began to feel a need and a passion that I knew I would never have experienced if it wasn’t for him.

 

He had her back up on her hands and knees now.  He’d released her breasts and now had two large handfuls of her long hair.  He was using these as one might use reins on a horse.  When he pulled hard on her hair, it forced her head up a little but mainly it forced her to do a grinding motion with her ass as she backed into him to take the full length of his erection inside her.  When he let go of the pressure on his ‘reins’, it allowed her to lower her head a little and she would then slide a couple of inches off of him.

 

She crouched like an animal beneath him, taking it up the ass just like all of the others---having a gorgeous bitch hanging off of his cock like this felt great.  He knew now that she was a keeper and it made him feel good.  With him holding handfuls of her hair, it gave him pleasure to be able to pull her head to the side every now and then so that he could see her face better.  He liked looking at his pleasure slut’s faces when he took them like this.  This one’s eyes were still closed, but her mouth wasn’t open to show her pain.  Instead, it was now open to enable her to give voice to the pleasure that he was bringing her.

 

Every now and then, she’d turn her head so that she could look at him.  M’s face was beautiful, and she kept her beauty even as he knew that he was hurting her.  She’d smile even as he forced another groan out of her, and then she’d face ahead and continuing taking it in the ass like the whore that he’d always known had been hidden inside her for the last nineteen years.  The last time she looked at him for his approval, he pulled on the handful of her hair on that side of her face and held it so that she had to continue looking at him.  At the same time, his other hand grabbed her hip and then he thrust and lifted with his hips at the same time in order to change the angle of his penetration into her ass; he knew full well that he would hurt her with this move.  He watched with satisfaction as her eyes fluttered shut and he could see the wattage go out of the tentative smile on her face as she was overcome by the pain he offered her.  But she willingly accepted even this anguish as the price for her being allowed to remain where she was, on her hands and knees being fucked in the ass by a giant cock.

 

Looking down at her hips, he could see her asshole grasping at nothing as he pulled all the way out of her.  He looked at the massive head of his cock and noticed how it was almost that thick at the base.  Then her asshole was blotted out as he drove into her again and he felt her weight back on him.  She made a long ululating sound as he penetrated her this time and her cry was definitely one of pleasure and not pain.  She hung off of his cock like an ornament on a Christmas tree and it felt wonderful.  Unlike the others before her, M seemed to be able to put pressure on him the whole length of his erection and not just at the base with the muscles of her anal sphincter.  It felt like her rectum was vacuum packed around the length of him, not just tight on one tiny part.  The feeling was unlike anything he’d previously experienced and he concentrated on cataloguing all of the sensations that were associated with it.  This one might even be around longer than most of the others.

 

At the end, when he entered me from the rear, it gave me such a keen feeling of beautiful fullness that the pain was literally outside my body; a delicate yet intense feeling of cramping and distension that came as if it occurred in someone else’s rectum and bowels.  I knew that my knees were spread obscenely wide as I crouched helplessly underneath him and he continued to give me the exquisite love/pain thrusts from which I no longer desired to escape.  He kept taking longer and deeper strokes into my rear, always controlling my hips and legs with his body; he pulled on my hair and with his massive cock, he drove my body ahead of him as a great tsunami pushes the smallest boat.  The way he held me now, I could not avoid anything, but rather had to accept everything he did to me.  While his hips controlled the entrance to my body that he now filled with incredible ease, he controlled the rest of my body and mind with his hands and voice alone.  This was what I found so erotic; he was my Master.

 

I looked at him unabashed adoration as he gave me what I hadn’t even known that I needed.  I worshiped at his feet; I idolized the way that he kept me frozen on my hands and knees, taking whatever he wanted and giving me what I needed.  I tried to look at him to let him know how I felt, but he would pull my hair and force my face back to the front.  He would then punish my insolence even more by lifting up with his hips as he drove into me once more, forcing me to arch my back and pelvis to reduce the agony as I accepted him; my whole body responding to the additional pain that he offered with this move.  God, I loved it!

 

He took me high and then made me come down again, rode me up and then forced me down again, never allowing me any release.  I finally began to understand what it was all about.  His giantness inside me caused more than fullness, he had given me this pain on purpose.  But it was my anguish, my helpless reaction to him ripping and tearing inside me that gave him pleasure; and giving him pleasure was now what my whole life was dedicated to.  I began to take the pain he brought me and used it to take myself high into the sky when suddenly, finally, I heard myself screaming to him, “Deeper, give me all the cock you’ve got!  If you want more you black bastard, then take it.  Deeper!  Rip me in half!  Fuck me, hurt me, take me!  I want it all!”  He was my Master and he deserved to be able to do this to me.

 

He now began a furious fucking motion and it was at that moment that they both began their first true ride up together and then they exploded simultaneously in both sound and feeling.  They rode that rocket to the skies again and again, and finally one more time again.  Her screams of passion rose and rose again until her voice cracked like a cheap mirror, leaving her with only groans and moans to convey the emotions that filled her.  Always aching and in pain, her rectum still gripped and sucked him in, demanding more of him and he always responded.

 

Then it was over, with quarts and gallons of semen flooding into Victoria as her orgasm exploded and consumed both of them in its fires.  Her body shook beneath him, the breath driven from her lungs and the sight from her eyes.  Lacy, delicate waves of release washed over her as the need that she’d never known that she’d had was finally satisfied.  He collapsed on top of her back and the two of them lay there while her uncontrollable muscle contractions subsided and left her uncaring and unknowing.  She never felt it when he finally pulled out and released a flood of their mixed fluids to run down her crotch and puddle on the mattress.  She felt only the wonderful feeling of nothingness and contentment that followed the explosion of her long denied first anal climax.

 

I knew now that I had been waiting my whole life for an aggressive man, one who made me feel helpless and needy, one who dominated me completely.  Thinking of the man who desired me, I knew that I wanted him to take me by force rather than by insincere gamesmanship.  I’d have opened my heart to let enter any male who wanted me more than anything else in the world, who would risk anything he possessed to have me.  Most men don’t understand what happens to women and especially to a woman like myself.  But perhaps a few do, and to That One I had said, I’m ready, I am ready and waiting.  And the Master had responded.

 

I knew now what I was.  I was his; his to play with and his to hurt and his to love.  Whatever he wanted to do with me was alright, because I would be giving him pleasure in it, and that was what now all counted in my life.  Letting him decide what he wanted to do to me and with me would give me all the pleasure, and pain, that I deserved.  Right now I suffered.  I knew my cervix was bruised and my womb ached and throbbed; my rectum hurt and I think that he’d torn my flesh when he first entered me there.  But I will recover and I was willing to accept this in order to remain with him.

 

Wolf lay in bed and looked at Victoria.  He was exhausted and filled with a general feeling of pleasure and well-being.  He’d gorged himself upon M’s body tonight and she’d proved to be all that he’d hoped that she would be.  She’d taken everything he had in every way that he’d desired, with no complaint and in the end had begged for more.  She was still naïve and relatively untrained for a pleasure slave.  But what she lacked in training, she now more than made up for it in beauty, enthusiasm and sheer physical ability.  He was fatigued and his loins tingled with a pleasant sensation of exhaustion.  Their sex that night had been an endurance contest and they both were exhausted.  She was now sleeping next to him, lying on her left side and holding on to his arm with her right hand.  He had allowed her to remove her high heels, but had her leave her garters and stockings on.

 

Every now and then she would give out a soft snore.  Many times like this, he would wake up in the middle of the night with a raging erection; it pleased him to be able to roll over onto a slave like this and take her without warning or preparation.  In addition to the pleasure and the sheer physical release that this gave him, the initial shock and the screams that he provoked from his bedmate with this act always helped to reinforce both the helplessness of her situation and the position that she filled in his life.

 

He thought of the two girls he’d recently sold to the pimp in Mexico City; Megan, the Irish redhead and Bridgette, the brunette from France.  He always liked to keep a couple of pleasure sluts around and he had been annoyed with himself.  He’d screwed up because he’d sold these two before he’d had their replacements trained.  He’d wound up having to use one of the local girls and he didn’t like doing that.  He had to be a lot more careful with them than he did with the women that he kidnapped, and in the end he’d just sent her home again with a lot of money.  M was going to be a great piece of ass, but he was pissed that he’d had to go over five days between getting laid.  He’d built up a nice little load waiting for her to finish her training and he knew that he’d take out his frustrations on her over the next few days.  But she was a big girl and he knew that she could take it.  Hell, she may have been a tight-assed little virgin when she was home with her parents, but from what he’d seen of her tonight, she’d probably love it!

 

He’d ordered the pair of girls sold because he’d had enough with the French girl.  He’d gotten over $40,000 for two, since he’d sold them as a pair.  They were now working on the second floor of a nasty hotel in the worst part of one of the worst cities on the continent.  He’d kept them for about a year and a half until he got tired of Bridgette’s whining.  She’d become exceedingly disrespectful, trying tell him what she thought he needed to do to/with her and with Megan, as if she knew Megan’s body and her body better than he did.

 

In all honesty though, he had to admit that he felt a sense of pleasure at the current situation.  He’d finally realized that most of his desire to be rid of Bridgette was pretty simple---she’d put on more weight than he liked while he was gone.  Leave it to the French to eat too much bread, he thought to himself.  Instead of putting her ass on a starvation diet and keeping them both around, he’d just decided to sell both girls off and bring in some new blood.  It was a pity about Megan; the beautiful redhead from Ireland hadn’t really deserved being sold as a whore along with Bridgette, but life can be a bitch when you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time.  In truth though, he really did have to admit that he was rather pleased with the results of his decision at this point.  He leaned over and whispered softly into M’s ear, but she didn’t awaken.

 

Wolf had watched television in the study this evening just before M had been delivered and he’d seen the woman on TV that had haunted his dreams for so long and who had forced his life into the twisted turns that he had taken over the last thirty years.  This was the woman that had told him, “You’re not the one.”  This was the one upon which he’d always vowed vengeance.  But he’d also thought that the reality was that his talk of revenge had been nothing more than that—an attempt to pacify his male ego.

 

He’d also had the opportunity to watch her on TV almost a month ago and she had aged tremendously in the last thirty days.  And he’d appreciated that the television camera was not kind to her; that the lens of the camera had showed her as she was now and not as she used to be.

 

Wolf looked over at M and stroked her perfect breast lightly.  She awoke for moment and smiled at him and then nestled back to sleep still hugging his arm.  Just a second ago, she thought he’d whispered in her ear something inane like “Don’t put on any extra weight.”

 

He looked at her breasts and saw the remnants of the telltale blush that so betrayed her emotions regarding him.  He thought again about the woman that he’d hated for so long and he thanked this stupid woman for her carelessness.  She looked awful, and he tried to imagine the anguish that could make someone age so greatly over the space of only a few weeks.  He thought to himself with a smile, having your only daughter kidnapped can do that to a person.

 

Epilogue

Somewhere late at night a whispered plea for help is received on a cassette tape, accompanied by a request for silence until all is resolved.  Voice verified, a decision is reached.  Quickly dressing, a rendezvous is made with the source of the tape.  A short, vicious struggle ensues and all is quiet again.  Still later, a boat departs in the middle of the night and all is still again.

 

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #32 on: June 16, 2011, 06:16:02 AM »

Offline Jokester

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She woke up in the morning and blearily looked around her.  Over thirty-six hours had passed since she’d been kidnapped, but she was unaware of this as they’d kept her unconscious the whole time.  All she knew was that her tongue tasted awful and her jaw ached; while her mouth was filled with her saliva, her lips were parched and dry.  What the hell was going on?  She was groggy and felt nauseated every time she tried to move.  Her head felt like a balloon as it wobbled on her shoulders.  She tried to say something and only then noticed that she’d been gagged!  She struggled for a moment, but ran out of breath quickly and soon realized that it was useless.  She became aware of the sweat beading her body, running in small trickles off of her chest, stomach and thighs.

 

Her long blonde hair covered much of her face.  Weakly shaking it out of the way, she raised her head and glanced down at herself.  She realized for the first time that she was naked and lying spread eagled on a bed; that wide leather straps had been put around her ankles and wrists and that her hands and feet were bound to the bed posts.  For some reason her hips ached something awful, it hurt to move her butt and she had on a pair of red high heels.  She tried to rise off of the bed, but failed.  Panic blossomed in her mind and threatened to take control.  She took deep breaths and the walls stopped moving.  With this, the panic began to die too.  After a moment, she was able to conquer her fear through sheer will power and now began to look around the cabin.

 

He sat in the corner, silently watching her.  This was a beautiful woman and he knew that there were things about her that bode well for his needs.  But there were things that he’d discovered about her that made him think that she too had needs that were unfulfilled; itches that were as yet unscratched.  Furthermore, she was a control freak and it would be interesting to see how she reacted when she first realized that she’d forever lost control over every aspect of her life.  He had a feeling that his life had just gotten a little more interesting.

 

She lay unmoving for several minutes, her mind floated, half deadened by the aftereffects of the drugs she’d been given.  What had happened?  The last thing she remembered was………Oh God!  She’d run out of the house wearing only an old pair of sweats, and then……..

 

She struggled for a second time, but finally gave up when she realized that she was bound to the bed in a way that ensured she would never free herself without assistance.  Still deep inside her, panic coiled around her heart.  Her body was now finished all over with a thin sheen of perspiration which gleamed in the morning sunlight.  Her nipples stood erect from her exertions and she had difficulty in getting enough air to breathe through her nose because of the gag in her mouth.

 

She knew that this was a bad dream and that soon something would happen to wake her up; she’d be able to laugh about it in the morning and perhaps even jokingly tell others about it.

 

He’d been sitting in the chair waiting for her to come out of her drugged sleep.  She’d been porpoising in and out of consciousness for the last fifteen or twenty minutes and he figured that she had about as clear a head as she was going to get, considering all the drugs they’d kept her on for the last day and a half.  He’d always made it a rule that he was the first to sample any new bitch’s wares and he liked to be there when they woke up.  It tended to take a lot of the fight out of his women when they were first confronted with their new reality by a man built like him.  He liked to take them before they’d had a chance to figure out what was going on; before they’d had a chance to gather their will power and the determination to fight their captors.

 

He knew that it was disorienting as hell to them.  There they were, coming out of a long drugged sleep, still confused as to what had happened and then he immediately mounted them like the sluts that they were and literally gave them the fuck of their lives.  The whole crew then came after him and by the time the first day had ended the women were physically exhausted, emotionally traumatized and in great pain from their first gangbang.  Most females felt totally helpless against this continuous male onslaught and while at the end of a long day of getting their brains fucked out, a few may have had the faintest desire to struggle against him, most had no idea of how to fight what seemed to be an overpowering physical force.

 

But this one could be interesting.  He knew without a doubt that she was one of the mentally toughest cunts that he worked with in awhile.  But he knew the secret was to never give the woman the time to gather her wits or to marshal her will power.  Fuck ‘em up at the beginning and never give them time to recover or let them sleep after that.  It was just another set of tools that he used to keep his life full of broken women.  It had worked with all of the others and he had no doubt that it would work with her.  Soon, sooner than she would ever believe possible, she’d be willingly fucking them all, taking it in the ass and sucking on all of their dicks just like the natural whore that he knew she kept hidden inside her.

 

Controlling her fear and forcing herself to be calm a second time, she began to look around the place in which she was confined.  She noticed some cheap nautical looking furniture and when combined with the round windows and gentle rocking motion, it clicked; she was on a boat.

 

Finally, she noticed a black man sitting motionless in a chair.  Her breathing tightened and her throat closed down.  She wanted to cry but wouldn’t allow herself.  If she started, she knew she would never stop.  He was like a huge statue, medium brown in color and with muscles jutting out all over his body.  Part of his face was wreck, but it was difficult to tell because one side was covered in a fantastic, fanciful tattoo.  He was a monster, the Devil personified.  She writhed, trying to attain a position which left her vulnerable nakedness less exposed to his view, but she was unsuccessful in this.

 

He sat in the chair for a long time without saying a word, just watching, just looking.  The man in the chair finally gave her a slight smile and then he stood up and said, “Good morning.”

 

Turning so that his back was to her, he started undressing, taking off only the swim trunks that he wore.  His buttocks and the backs of his legs writhed with muscle as he folded the trunks and laid them on the chair.  Then he stood upright and said, “Listen to me and listen carefully.  How your next few weeks go depend solely upon you.”

 

This was a beautiful woman.  He’d seen her dressed up for television and had thought her ravishing then; he now knew that she was even more gorgeous in person than it had seemed was possible.  He was looking forward to seeing how Jorge dressed her after she’d been broken and had entered her training phase.  Jorge had some very high quality raw material with which to work this time.

 

Finally, he turned and slowly began walking towards her.  There was nothing here that he had done himself, it was purely genetics for him; but nonetheless he loved this part for it was always the same.  The captive women would look at him, then they’d LOOK at HIM and their eyes would open wide and their pupils would dilate and their heads would begin thrashing from side to side as they tried to free themselves from their bonds.  But they never could.  He loved watching their faces when they saw him naked for the first time, especially their eyes.  The eyes never lied; he looked into their eyes and saw the light from their soul.  Sometimes, if they pleased him he let them keep that light, other times he snuffed it out like he would an ant under his feet.

 

She looked at HIM and she felt an awful, animal fear.  This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t be real.  There were laws against this….rules that had been put in place to protect women…….women like her….she’d always worked so hard to be in total control of everyone and everything around her…..  But it was and he was, and as he slowly approached her bed like the Prince of Darkness, it was then that her intellect fled and her emotions took over.  She had always made her living with her mind and she despised those that lost their heads and panic’d under pressure.  But to even her too, eventually a situation had arisen where her mind was of no use and she felt only panic and fear---she was truly feeling for the first time a woman’s deepest fear of being forced to accept inside her a stranger like him, and then there was the dread of the physical damage an abnormally developed monster like him would cause her.

 

A beautiful woman from a supportive and caring family; an intelligent, educated and progressive woman with an extremely successful career in law---none of this mattered anymore.  She knew that she had spent so many years of her life learning how to manipulate the system to her advantage and how to use it to reward or punish others.  It was always the system from which she’d derived both her strength and her power.  Many of her ‘victims’ thought her a bitch of the first order and she suddenly understood that now it was payback time for all of the pain that she’d caused others; now it was her turn to experience that which she thought she’d left long behind her; the helplessness of the weak, the absence of the network of civilized laws and beliefs that have developed over the last several thousand years to protect the vulnerable.

 

But this time it was so much worse than anyone could have ever imagined.  Like a cork on the ocean, she’d been forcibly carried into a new world in which she had absolutely no control.  And yet the act that she knew that she was soon to be forced to experience was as old as time itself; this scene had played itself out for millennium in culture after culture, but always under a set of laws different from that of civilization---these were the ‘jungle rules’---and in the jungle, a single female alone was always dominated and eventually owned by an overpowering male presence.

 

Like a terrified rabbit in a trap, she watched him come closer and closer.  There was no softness in him anywhere and no mercy in his eyes.  But no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t do anything to stop him or to free herself.  She’d always been able to control everything before, especially where men were concerned.  Men were so easy to control, so easy to manipulate….if only she could talk to him……reason with him.  But she’d been gagged and this took away her persuasiveness and her logic, what would be her most useful tools here.

 

She heard him say something else, but it didn’t click at the moment because she was still trembling before his power and her fear of his maleness was radiating away from her like heat.

 

The muffled screaming soon began; it carried out over the water for quite a distance, but no one was there to hear except the sea birds.  The dulled sounds first forced from Victoria’s aunt’s throat by the big man began as harsh and inarticulate shrieks and screams of fear and pain and rage.  Within less than a day these cries of rebellion were turned by the remainder of her captors into the more muted grunts and groans of a freshly recruited slut that, while beginning to see the value of acting as if tamed by her trainers, was yet to be actually broken to accepting the harness of total sexual bondage.

 

The men loved to sit on deck and listen to the changing sounds coming from these women’s throats as they finally began accepting the requirements of their new life.  And so, over the course of the following days and weeks, the emanations coming from this beautiful woman’s mouth changed again from the gasps of a proud and dignified woman being sexually humiliated and tortured to the softer mewling and begging and crying noises of a woman who had been broken, and who knew that her only purpose in life now was to please her Master and the men around her.

 

These were the sounds of a mature woman that knew all too well what she had been forced to give up and what she now faced for the foreseeable future.  These were the sounds of a conceited and arrogant bitch that had finally been taught that each and every one of us has a master, and that we all should only pray that we never meet him.  But all of these sounds too were dampened by the humid Gulf waters surrounding the hellboat.  Within a few weeks after that her training was finished and she was brought home for the first time.

 

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #33 on: June 16, 2011, 06:18:06 AM »

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It had been fifteen months since he’d taken me.  I was being driven in a jeep over a rough trail to another small village.  My Master owned over 40,000 acres stretching from Caribbean beaches in the east into the western part of the San Jose Province of Costa Rica.  There were at least six small villages on his property and this was the third one that I’d visited in the last four months for a ‘shopping’ expedition.  I was familiar with the term ‘middens’ now and these places definitely qualified.  I was scheduled to visit one village every two months and apparently my Master had one other female slave that alternated ‘shopping trips’ with me.  The Master trusted us both now and this meant that every village was graced with a visit from one or the other of his pleasure slaves at least twice a year.  Master would do anything to keep his ‘serfs’ happy.

 

I now knew that my life wasn’t a fairy tale romance where the heroine realizes her undying love for the hero after he’s finished with her.  There were no heroes or heroines in my story and there would be no happy endings here, forever after or otherwise.  I couldn’t imagine living with HIM, but I couldn’t imagine my world without HIM.  I needed HIM.  It was unspeakably selfish, but it was honest.  I needed HIM.

 

I was known only as M now, or “Slave”.  I found that I embraced my new life with a passion; I’d adopted and accepted my new name as part of that new life.  I knew that I’d been manipulated by HIM, but that really didn’t matter.  For in the end, I’d come out of my shell and entered a different world, a new world entirely of HIS making and it was only fitting that I embraced HIS name for me too.  All he’d done was move forward the time at which I would have had to choose between my true nature and what I had mistakenly believed as a child.  There were times that I watched the earlier movies made of me on the boat and I could only shake my head at the naiveté shown by that young girl.  How obvious it was in hindsight that I had fought my true nature with every breath I took.  But I’d come home now and that was all that mattered.

 

I had come to love the lingerie that initially I’d been forced to wear.  HE no longer made me wear it or the high heels, but I often did anyway just to please HIM.  I loved the way it felt on me and the way it made me look.  I loved the feeling of the stockings on my legs and the look of them as they were supported by my garters.  I liked the way the high heels I wore all the time now made my legs look.  I took more care with my makeup now and when he was with me during the day, I did my best to look enticing for him, dressing like the most beautiful models that I saw on TV.  At night, I always tried to dress like the slut he wanted me to be, wearing the sexiest and flimsiest items that I could find.  To me, sex was finally something special---and while not always necessarily intimate, I was comfortable with it and with what I was.

 

I was with someone now that treated me the way I needed to be treated and I’d found that I responded to his roughness with great desire.  I wanted to have sex with HIM all the time.  Because of HIM, I’d finally been forced to open up and discover what was always waiting inside me---and now I was ready to have sex with any man---but only if HE commanded me.  I’d found out that I liked the male body; I just liked everything about a man.  I liked men’s firm, muscular arms and legs that were so unlike mine.  I liked to grab men’s asses, to feel the great muscles there.  I liked men’s hard bellies—and if he had that beautiful treasure that ended below---that was all I cared about.

 

***

 

Wolf slowly let himself into the woman’s bedroom.  She lay on the bed and as was often her custom, she wore only the red high heels that were similar to those he had first given her upon her arrival..  Upon his entry, she stretched and gave him a soft smile.  At first, he’d beaten her unmercifully for not being more respectful, but she only seemed thrive on being hit.  This woman had a huge desire for and an incredible capacity to accept pain.  He knew that under his tutelage she’d looked deeply inside herself and found a bottomless capacity for pain that could only be filled her Master’s blows.

 

He walked over and looked down on her.  The insides of her thighs, her belly and her breasts were all bruised from where he’d hit her, but she only demanded more from him.  This had been a proud and arrogant woman, but she had been completely tamed and humbled by he and his crew.  Her pride and dignity had disappeared with her first realization that the whore she’d hidden for so long inside her had demanded to be let out.  Her conceit about being above the vagaries of life and her arrogance over her place in the hierarchy of male/female relationships, both were gone now.  They had been replaced by the acceptance of her new life as being the lowest of the low, available to any man or woman.

 

No one would ever know that this was an exceptionally well educated woman.  The men on the boat had been amazed; once she’d realized her true nature, there was nothing that she wouldn’t do for them.  She’d looked fabulous as they dressed her up, appearing on the outside like the most sophisticated of wealthy women.  But in the cabin of the boat and lying upon that bed, she’d acted like the most wanton of whores, greedily consuming every awful thing they did to her and often demanding more from them.

 

The other thing about her was her incredible ability to take being fucked by massive cocks in both her pussy and in her ass.  To not only take it, but to love and demand it from him.  It truly was amazing---this woman was all pussy and ass, and he had never seen another quite like her.  She’d fought the anal love-making at first, perhaps because there was no love involved.  But eventually the more they hurt her this way, the more she wanted it.  And finally, she’d been stretched until she could accept any man including him, and still get pleasure from the encounter.  She might fight him at times but it was all role-playing, for this was a woman that had been well taught to like being sexually humiliated as well as being beaten on a regular basis.

 

He slowly dropped between her widely spread knees and as he began to take her for the third time in the last two hours, he thought to himself how profoundly pleased he was with both of his current pleasure sluts.  So many women came through his hands that he could always afford to be incredibly picky about his personal sluts, and these two were spectacular.  So different, but yet so similar.  The genetics of this one’s family must be amazing.  And with that last thought, he thrust smoothly and massively into Victoria’s aunt Samantha.

 

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #34 on: June 16, 2011, 06:21:52 AM »

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eorges hit an especially rough piece of trail and the open top jeep began bouncing all over the place.  My long blonde hair flew loose behind me in wind-blown disarray.  I reached up and grabbed the roll bar with both hands to stabilize myself, but this allowed my breasts to be thrown all over the jeep.  If possible, my nipple chain seemed to be pulling the piercings out of both of my tits at the same time.  Grimacing in frustration and no little pain, I put my arms back down over my chest and raised my feet up on the dash, where I was able to push in and keep myself braced in the seat.

 

It had been six months since I’d had my baby, but Master had not yet granted me the privilege of naming him.  For the first month, ‘baby’ had slept in my arms, but no more.  Master did, however, allow me to spend one hour a day during the week with the infant and three hours on the weekend; that was enough to keep me happy.  He’d not allowed me to breast feed because he didn’t want me to have stretch marks on my breasts.  In the same way, he’d ensured that his staff kept my abdomen well-oiled while I was pregnant to avoid marking what he jokingly referred to as ‘his property.’  Master knew that he now had a permanent hold on me, and that I could no more abandon my baby and leave him than I could stop the sun from rising.

 

I’d gained thirty pounds during my pregnancy, but with hard work and good genes I’d been able to throw off most of the effects of giving birth within a month.  I had my trim waist back now and Master had me on birth control.  While he didn’t particularly want anymore children from his women, instead of getting me fixed, he told that my next owner might want to impregnate me himself if I had been purchased as a ‘breeder’.

 

My baby was beautiful.  Medium brown skin, fairly straight black hair and jade green eyes.  Six weeks after I’d given birth, another baby had been delivered at his mansion, but this one was a girl.  This baby looked much like my son in that she had the same color skin and hair, and oddly enough, the same color eyes.  The staff passed rumors to me this baby’s mother was my Master’s other pleasure slave, although the mansion was so large that I had never seen her.

 

That’s not true, I corrected myself.  Actually, I’ve been with her numerous times, but we’ve just never been introduced nor had I seen her face.  Master had given me an exquisite black discipline hood made of the softest Spanish leather soon after my arrival.  When wearing this hood, one breathed through a small cutout area around the nostrils, but one was totally blind.  If the three inch penis gag that came with the hood was inserted into one’s mouth, one could not speak.  If the ear pieces were inserted, one could not hear.  I wore this hood a lot to please Master and soon came to love the smell of sweat and saliva mixed with the aroma of its fine leather.

 

One day when I was only two months pregnant and had only the smallest of bellies, Master had brought this other pleasure slave into the play room off of my bedroom.  He told me that this was ‘B’.  It was clear that Master had had two hoods made, for this woman was wearing one identical to mine except that hers was a rich red color, the deep dark red of wet blood.  I took that opportunity to review my competition with a practiced eye.  B’s arms were bound high behind her back with her forearms and hands encased in a single red leather sleeve.  This sleeve was tightly connected by a small, yet ornate chain to the discipline hood after her arms had been pulled up high on her back.  She was helpless.

 

B was naked except for her hood, arm sleeve and red pumps with four inch stiletto heels.  She had a gorgeous body, with long and slender, yet shapely legs; obviously, B had danced sometime in the past.  Her calves were shapely by nature, but were made even more so by the heels that she wore.  Her thighs were well muscled and her ass was firm and high.  But her perfection was marred by a series of bruises on the insides of her thighs that centered on her genitals.  He had obviously beaten her severely with his fists sometime recently.  When he turned her, I could also see that she had been marked by the whip on the back of her thighs, her ass and the small of her back.  As with me, her waist at that time was still small.  But both of us would soon balloon with our Master’s seed having taken root inside.

 

Like me, B too had a bikini wax that left her vagina nude except for a thin strip of curly hair.  But unlike me, she had multiple rings piercing both of her labia.  Her hair was pulled up inside her hood, but judging from the dark blonde color of her remaining pubic hair, she was a natural blonde.  Her breasts were large for her frame and had small aureoles, while each dark pink nipple was pierced by a large golden ring and each ring was connected by a chain similar to my own.  But even though an experienced pleasure slave that had been pierced and was bound, this woman still seemed to hold herself with pride and even dignity; between her natural bearing and her arms pinned in the sleeve in back, she held her shoulders back and her breasts jutted out fearlessly from her chest without support.

 

She was unaware of my presence.  Master led this unfamiliar female into my play room and tied her without struggle on her back with her legs in a spread eagled position onto the low, padded bed there---B was very submissive at this point.  Next, he’d ordered me to slowly caress the woman’s body all the while I was to talk to her, whispering into her ear, attempting to calm her with my reassurances.  But in this, no matter how often we have been brought together since that first time, I have never been successful.  B could obviously hear me because that first time, she made a startled movement when I began to talk to her and she then began to struggle mightily against her bonds.  But she never could free herself.

 

Our interactions together never changed early on.  She must have known that I was our Master’s other pleasure slave and resented me for it.  She would always go berserk in her attempts to free herself as I slowly licked her breasts and the sweaty naked skin between her legs.  Eventually, Master always had to hold B’s shoulders down.  When I eventually began tonguing and eating this woman’s pussy, no matter how I had tried to calm her fears, B would cry in what must be her rage and frustration with me.

 

Master had also given me a strap-on dildo to use on this slave; it was an enormous black rubber affair and I was afraid of hurting her.  It was far larger than anything that I could comfortably take, but Master assured me that B loved it inside her and so I obeyed.  This had been my first time to use one of these and I was always looking at Master to ensure that I was doing everything right.  Since the other woman was already tied to the bed, I laid down on top of her and after taking a moment to tell her about what I was going to do to her so that she wasn’t surprised, I plunged the giant piece of hard rubber into her already moist pussy with one move of my hips.

 

B went berserk again, arching her body and bucking like a wild mare, attempting to throw me off of her hips and belly.  But as others had done to me so many times in the recent past, I just centered my weight on the other woman’s hips and held on to her asscheeks for the ride.  Soon B became less physical in her struggles and began to quiet down as her need for air increased; soon we both were covered with sweat and finally, I was able to completely take this woman as my Master demanded.

 

This sight, of me fucking B with a giant strap-on dildo, he seemed to enjoy immensely.  I lay between her widespread legs with the dildo buried from sight inside her vagina and my weight was heavy upon her as I kept my head buried in the left side of her neck and my left ear near her nose.  I could easily hear her breathing as its tempo increased with the movements of my hips.  It took a long time, but I was finally able to make this unknown woman cum and then cum a second time.  Again, strangely, she cried after this.  If she always acted like this with my Master, why would he keep her around?

 

Master allowed us to rest for a short while, then he had me help him take B off of the couch and force her face down on a foam rubber cushion laying on the floor.  Once her ankles had been freed from the bed, she struggled against us.  It took both of us to finally subdue her and this was difficult for me because I was still wearing the strap-on dildo.  Even with her being bound and there being two of us, she put up a mighty struggle.  But in the end we prevailed---for as I have learned, he ALWAYS wins in the end.  With me sitting on her lower back, he was able to grab B’s ankles and finally spread her long legs, binding them to the ends of a metal bar that was about four feet long.

 

With her again immobilized, he told me to ‘fuck her in the ass’ with the dildo.  I really didn’t want to do this, but Master was insistent.  B could hear him and knew exactly what he was saying to me.  Even hooded and with her arms bound high on her back and laying on her stomach with her legs tied far apart, she still tried to struggle against her fate.

 

I was surprised at the amount of vaginal fluids secreted by B when I first took her with the dildo and was able to use these to now lubricate the rubber cock again.  Crawling once again between her thighs but now from the other side, I reached down to spread B’s cheeks and then I looked at her anus.  It looked just like I knew mine looked, so I knew that Master had re-sized this woman for himself too just as he’d done to me.  Soon both B and I were slick with sweat from our struggles and B was still providing a distraction, shaking her head back and forth, and moving her hips and rear in an attempt to make my target more difficult to hit; all the while a continuous stream of mewling and pleading noises were coming through from her gag.

 

I remember every detail of the small smile that he had on his face as he heard me keep repeating in her ears, “Don’t make me hurt you.  Please relax and don’t make me hurt you.”  Keeping B’s firm asscheeks spread wide open with my left hand, I finally hunched my hips and guided the rigid piece of rubber with my right, tentatively beginning the first moves that would result in planting the huge artificial cock totally inside this other woman.  Finally, it was done and I was a couple of inches inside my new lover.

 

Even held down by Master and with my weight on her back, B had given out muffled screams and had fought me every step of the way.  It was obvious that B was a proud woman that was being forced against her wishes to accept being anally trained again---or punished.  Once I had slowly forced my way past B’s sphincter, things began to go much more smoothly for both of us.  As more and more of the giant rod entered her ass, B had struggled less and less.  When I finally had pushed almost all of the ten or eleven inches into her ass, the woman was lying quiescent beneath me.  Her anus had blossomed to perfectly fit the punishing rubber cylinder that I now offered and her rectum appeared to accept it without difficulty.  B was now frozen beneath me and there were no more struggles.  I knew that I too would have laid still at this point, since this great, brutish thing would have broken me in half.  She either had given up and was accepting everything I did, or she was in so much pain that she was afraid to move; I wasn’t sure which.

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #35 on: June 16, 2011, 06:27:26 AM »

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On Master’s order, I now hooked my toes against the bar that forced B’s ankles so far apart and I pushed against it, thus allowing me to use my thigh muscles as I began taking long, slow, even, deep strokes into my reluctant lover’s body.  Eventually, and despite what appeared to be her best efforts at not responding, the other female slave finally began to warm to me, moving in reaction to my slow measured moves in and out of her body.  I was amazed that this woman could not only accept something this large inside herself, but had even somehow been taught to enjoy it.  What must she have gone through to reach this point?  By the end, the woman on the bottom had been giving muffled screams of what must have been encouragement and was pushing her pelvis up and grinding her buttocks into my groin in anticipation of the next thrust.

 

Finally, B had cum again and I was finished, or so I thought.  However, Master had me stand up and after removing the strap-on, he had me straddle B’s back and urinate on her.  I was mortified to be doing this to another person, but Master insisted and so I complied.  The woman between my legs just laid there and accepted the humiliating shower.

 

After this, he freed B by releasing her ankles from the bar.  But B laid there for a minute without moving and then her shoulders starting shaking.  At first it was a small movement, but soon I could hear great heaving muffled sobs coming from within the hood.  I felt so bad about what I had done to this woman, but I knew in truth that I’d had no choice.  I also knew that she might be doing this to me tomorrow.  None of us here, except my Master, has any choices at all except to honor his will, whatever that may be.

 

Pulling on the top of her hood, he made her climb to her feet unassisted and this was difficult for her since she was still wearing the red pumps with the four inch heels.  But now her legs were weak and her knees trembled either from all of her efforts at fighting me or perhaps because of enjoyment at what I had done to her; in any case, she could barely walk.  Her shoulders were slumped and they shook as she still cried beneath her hood of blood red.  Even though I know that this is only my imagination, even her breasts seemed to sag now, hanging lower on her chest as if dejected.  Master had finally led the poor hooded slave away and a little troubled, I had gone on with my daily routine as a blank faced maid quickly entered and cleaned up the tile floor.

 

I knew that I had raped and sodomized the new pleasure slave upon my Master’s command and this I did not like.  When I was a child on the hellboat and before I had known myself, I too had been repeatedly raped and sodomized---I knew exactly what this did to a person.  The only thing that helped me through this time with B was my prayer that she’d realized that I had no more choice in this than she; and the forlorn hope that perhaps, at the end, that she had somehow enjoyed our sex together.

 

Before we both gave birth to his infants, we had been brought together numerous times after that first hooded introduction, and I was never able to see my mystery lover’s face.  Sometimes she fought Master when he lead her into my play room, while on other occasions she seemed resigned to her fate as she was tied to my bed.  Always, however much she might initially have fought me, she responded enthusiastically to our sex in the end.  However reluctant my mysterious lover might have been initially, I know too in my heart that in the end she wanted me to do this to her.  I have been with other women at my Master’s command since then, and I have enjoyed these times.  But I must admit that for some unknown reason, I had always been troubled by my times with B and have never myself yet achieved any kind of real sexual release with her.

 

But Master assures me that this will change.  My giving birth to ‘baby’ changed me as a woman.  It opened my eyes to many things about which I had previously been unaware.  It seems that this event too has changed B.  Master led B into my playroom for the first time a month after she had given birth and she appeared a new woman.  Wearing her familiar leather hood and arm sleeve, she now almost pranced in a red bustier that left her full breasts pushed up and bare, and she wore a garter and sheer stockings that matched her red heels.

 

I too was dressed differently at the desire of my Master.  With my long hair done up in a bun, wide severe black leather straps now crossed my body, emphasizing my buttocks and my breasts, barely covering my nipples; sheer black hose that were held up by a thin leather garter and black leather boots that went up to mid-thigh and which had five inch stiletto heels---all of these I wear now when with B to please Master.  When I strap on the huge dildo, I know that I look very frightening.

 

There is no defiance left in her anymore.  B willingly enters into our lovemaking, exhibiting a wantonness now that surprises even me.  She demonstrates her desire for both my rubber dildo and I, beginning as soon as he leads her into my playroom; she walks with exaggerated movements of her hips and pelvis, and thrusts her breasts at me.  I no longer have to tie her down or her legs apart.  Without coercion of any type, she voluntarily consents to all that I do to her now at his command---no, this is not totally right, this is not exactly what I sense about her now.

 

She has now discovered a profound need that demands these things that I do to her---and I sense in some way that it is me that she desires doing these things to her and not just anyone.  I somehow feel that she has abandoned any attempts to control her most intimate needs and that there is an inner compulsion that now drives her to seek out domination by me; and that this desire of hers for me requires periodic relief just as much as she craves HIS mastery and control.  I know that what I feel about B may not be logical, but it is what my intuition tells me.

 

The sight of us together always seems to bring Master great enjoyment.  I am ever pleased to see him smile and laugh, but I find it strange that it is always we two that bring him such great pleasure.  He never gags me, but always gags my mysterious lover when we are together.  This I find odd, except unless it is her duty to always please him while muffled and mine is to do so while free.  I still hate the gag.  But Master no longer uses the gag on me very much now, preferring instead to hear me give full throat to the pain he renders either in my playroom or on my bed.  Only when he has had a bad day or is in a foul mood does he bring out the gag and then I know that it is my duty is to give him the pleasure and the release that he seeks.  In this, I try to do my best, but for some psychological reason I find it more difficult to accept and accommodate the pain that he offers me when I’m wearing his gag.  Sometimes though, even this difficulty of mine seems to give him joy and delight.  However, I have learned to not question or second-guess my Master, and the lessons were painful.

 

Master has recently assured me that soon, very soon, B’s hood will be off and that we will each then assume new positions in our relationship.  He tells me that I will be to B what he is to me.  That I will be taught to use the whip and the cane, the rope and the clamp and the pliers---and that she will learn to serve me as we both serve him.  While I admit that I do at times get pleasure in making this unknown woman cum for me, this pleasure is not sexual but rather is more due to being able to so easily dominate her now.  However, I do not feel that I will enjoy becoming this familiar with her and with making these kinds of demands upon her mind and body.  For this is a woman with a dark side to her that in ways makes me uncomfortable.  As such, I would prefer that our contacts remain intermittent and that she continue to be anonymous.

 

While I was inexperienced when my Master acquired me, I was not a complete novice.  I knew what a Dominatrix was and I knew that he was preparing me for that role with B.  This was not something with which I was comfortable.  Obviously, I could not tell him this, but I think that he knew anyway.  This situation must have troubled me more than I had realized because that first night after I had dressed for my new role, I had a nightmare.

 

I was in a room and I felt as if all of my surroundings, my whole life in fact, were illusions recorded on a series of slides.  And now someone had changed the slide.  There was no dizziness or disorientation.  Suddenly I was there, standing in a meadow, ankle deep in grass that was soft and blue-green under a cloudless sky.  A stream flowed by to my left and its sound was magnified in the still air, peaceful, as it rolled over the stones in its bed.  The meadow stretched on forever as if the world were flat and there were no horizon.  I could feel no sensation in my body or in my feet.  It was as if I floated or lived only in my mind.  I heard no sound---in fact, there was no sound in this meadow.  I was suddenly aware of clouds in the sky, or in my mind; I could not tell which.  But they were there, dark and foreboding, cooling the air.  There was a feeling of evil in the air, of impending violence.  Oddly enough, I found this exciting in a new and different way.

 

Nevertheless, I knew that someone was there, just behind me.  I turned and she was there.  There was now a woman standing by the stream, staring at me.  I could not understand where she had come from, for the meadow was open and stretched empty for what seemed an eternity.  Nevertheless she was there and she was interested in me.  She took a few steps forward and I sucked in my breath.

 

The woman by the stream was me, but she was the exact opposite of me.  This woman’s face was etched in cruelty and while she was astoundingly beautiful, it was the beauty of the hooded cobra or the well tied hangman’s noose.  Her jet black hair was pulled back severely, framing her face in a mask of evil.  She was dressed all in black, in garments that might have been wet rubber.  Her breasts surged beneath her top, pointing straight out so that one could imagine their nipples cutting and tearing any who would touch them.  Her legs were encased in sheer black nylons and her black pumps glistened.  In her hand she held the butt of a whip which snaked out over the grass in front of her, lighting and smoking the blades where it touched.

 

Suddenly, the woman opened her mouth and let out a soundless scream that I could hear in my mind.  I started as she broke into a run, coming directly at me, her whip uncoiling behind her, ready to lash out at my skin.  I held up my arm as if to ward off a blow, but then I realized that the woman was moving in slow motion, jumping and gliding at a gradual pace as she crossed the meadow.  I was immensely relieved for, though I was tremendously excited at the way her breasts bounced as she ran, I did not want to be injured.

 

Suddenly, the woman in black was intercepted in the center of the meadow by a woman dressed all in white.  All motion now returned to normal.  But somehow, even as they began to fight, I knew that this other was me too.  But this was the me that had existed before I had been taken by my Master, an innocent child compared to what I was now.

 

The woman in black was kicking out with her needle pointed shoes, but the other leaped and dodged like a gazelle, always out of reach.  The tip of the whip lashed out and touched the woman in white on the breast, leaving an ugly purple welt.  Then they were locked together, wrestling to the ground.  They ripped and they tore at each other.  The woman in white seemed untouched, but the other’s garments were torn and shredded.  Black garters and the ribbed tops of her stockings stood out against the stark white flesh of her thighs.  Her breasts seemed to leap and dart across her chest as she struggled with the woman in white.

 

They tumbled back and forth on the grass, beating at each other, kneeing at every sensitive area of the other’s body.  They rose to their feet and while still locked in each other’s embrace, finally toppled over into the stream.  The water from the stream rose into the air, hovered for an eternity and then fell slowly back.

 

They were out of sight, but then rose from the water a moment later.  They were still locked in each other’s arms, but this time their embrace had a different quality; it was an embrace of passion.  The water had not only cleansed them, but it had miraculously healed them too.  Both bodies were now devoid of clothing, and shown white and clean from across the meadow.

 

The legs of the two women were now intertwined and their hips moved back and forth furiously.  Suddenly, the women sank to the ground out of sight.  I tensed, then hurried to the stream.  They were nowhere to be seen.  I started to cry, not for what I had seen, but for what I had lost.  And then I awoke.

 

This dream has many potent meanings and I think that my unconscious mind is certainly trying to tell me something.  Perhaps it tells me that I have reached a critical point in my life; a point where I have the choice of either staying as I am or of becoming a darker version of myself.  And all of this depends upon whether I allow myself to delve too deeply into the seductive embrace of the Dominatrix.

 

Maybe my subconscious is telling me that darkness and light already exist inside me and that I need to open myself to my mysterious lover in red.  And that only by willingly giving her what she so desperately craves from me, will I be able to marry together the two separate sides within me and save myself.

 

Possibly, my crimson lover is represented in my dream by the woman in black.  But why then would she have my face?  And why was I excited in my dream by the thought of impending violence myself and myself?  Perhaps this dream is telling me that my crimson lover is more like me than I could ever know?  And that we share the same likes and dislikes, the desires and needs?  That the violence that she needs and that which I do to her, in reality stimulates us both?  Although I do not believe this interpretation, if this is the case then I have done her a disservice.

 

I have asked the servants who this mystery woman was and what she looked like.  But all of them would look at each other in confusion and scurry off or pretend that they hadn’t understood my question.  Eventually, I stopped asking any questions about B.

 

For me, the most odd time had been when Master had brought us together when we were both seven or eight months pregnant.  Master had enjoyed seeing us spoon on a bed with each other, with pregnant belly extended and ground into the small of the back of another pregnant belly.  Even then, at eight months pregnant, I had loved this woman from the rear as we both lay on our sides.  Again, she had fought me and Master’s help was required to subdue her.  And as before, after her initial reluctance had faded, B had enthusiastically taken part in the sex between us and seemed to thoroughly enjoy being filled by the giant rubber phallus that I wore.

Re: Recruiting Victoria by Gina Hoisington
« Reply #36 on: June 16, 2011, 06:29:10 AM »

Offline Jokester

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There was other gossip about this slave woman.  It was rumored that life between my Master and this pleasure slave was lived in her bedroom; and it was like re-living the great battles of World War II.  Much screaming and fighting, and both the giving and receiving of great pain always preceding the main event in which they fucked their brains out, never leaving the bed for half a day.  I wasn’t particularly jealous of this other slave because Master always made sure that I too was kept satisfied.

 

There was hearsay that B was also greatly in love with being hurt and that Master took great pleasure in the pain that he gave her.  These things I believe about her.  Even though I had never earned the dungeon, the other slave had moments of awesome rebellion in which she screamed terrible insults at my Master; she was heard through the door screaming ‘was that all he had?’ and that ‘he was too old to satisfy a real woman.’  I would never dream of doing this to Master and knew that he was correct to beat B for behaving so badly.

 

The consequences of her misbehavior were severe and I knew that this was a woman that had a deep capacity to enjoy her punishments; that she had been taught by our Master to deeply appreciate and love both the pain and anguish that he offered her, even more so than I.  I have gone through much myself in the last few months and even though I try not to judge others, I feel that she was almost demented in this aspect.  She has pursued this outcome at great cost to herself and I admit that I do not understand this.  He gives me pain and I accept it because of my love for Master, but I feel that she greedily consumes this pain, actually gorging herself upon it as if at a buffet because it fills a need with which she was born.  According to the staff, she seems to have an unending desire for the pain inflicted by HIM and an almost infinite capacity to accept it.  While curious about her, I also knew that there must be emotional issues too; something must have been inherently flawed with this woman from the outset to have had from the beginning this bottomless need to be hurt by a man.

 

Again, I try not to be judgmental, but anyone that pursues anguish like this to the exclusion of all else; that has this one-dimensional and almost inexhaustible capacity of being groomed to accept more and more pain and who was yet able to keep so focused on this single aspect of her existence; this person was not right in the head.  What would it have been like to be around this woman in a previous incarnation?  It was impossible to tell anything about this woman’s history; no tattoos, no scars, nothing that gave her away as being either genteel lady of the house or from biker slut from the gutter.

 

But you can’t hide this sort of maladjusted psyche from those around you---something would always give her away.  Back in my old world, a woman like this would have been…..distasteful, and we would have avoided her like the plague.  But she merits his attentions; and I’m glad that HE found her and that he gives her what she needs.  She desires him and she deserves him.  But she is so different from me---perhaps the fact that Master has two totally different types of pleasure slaves is what keeps him so happy all the time?

 

The pain that my Master specialized in giving this slave was also what kept her a sexual dynamo, the servants whispered.  When he conquered her and she finally gave in to him, and according to the staff she was always defeated in the end, their sex was something about which epic poems might someday be written.  And when he had been with her for hours and hours and was finally ready to leave her bloody and bruised, and exhausted and worn out in her bed, they would hear her beg him to stay, to give her still more.

 

But late at night when he was not sharing her bed, they also heard her softly crying as if for what she had been forced to leave behind.  Somehow, I sensed that if this other slave hadn’t meant something very special to my Master, he would have sold her by now.

 

I do not look forward to a new, more intimate relationship with this strange woman.

 

***

 

Master continues to test me, confirming to himself and bringing out ever more of the submissive in me.  He would sometimes make me prove my devotion to him by wearing nothing beneath my dress, and at odd times he would tell me to lift it and show him my most private and cherished prizes in front of others.  He would sometimes take me to cantinas in the closest villages and he would take great delight in forcing me to display myself in public places, where the anticipation of discovery would make my heart race and my face turn red.

 

There was a small, almost deserted chapel that was about half an hours walk from the mansion.  The priest that tended this chapel was an old man that had been there for over twenty years; he knew exactly what the Master did.  But in his extended time there, he’d also developed a taste for the younger female members of his native flock.  This, and the five gallons of dark rum that Master sent over to the chapel once a month ensured that the priest continued ministering to the group without saying anything to the authorities.  However, the priest never missed a chance to condemn him to the few that attended his Mass.

 

Once late on a Wednesday afternoon, Master took it a step further.  He made me wear a loose native blouse and long skirt while I accompanied him to the empty chapel.  There he made me bend over and pull my skirt up and show him my naked bottom.  Stepping in against me, he took me in the rear on the spot.  Afterwards, I found myself filled with exhilaration and adoration, and I was wet for him for the rest of the day.

 

The location didn’t bother him, for the Master didn’t much believe in revealed religions.

 

***

 

Running my fingers inside my fine Italian leather collar, I looked down at my tanned bare legs and grimaced.  I was not particularly looking forward to this trip---it was another of his dramatic, overly large gestures in which I was again forced to ‘prove’ my ultimate submissiveness.  While I thought it crazy, if this was what he desired then I would willingly do it.

 

Master had me wearing what I called my ‘Dukes of Hazard’ outfit.  Tight faded denim cut-off’s that barely covered the cheeks of my rear, a ‘fuck-me’ blouse that left my mid-rift and shoulders bare.  No panties or bra and of course a pair of high heeled mules to complete the costume.

 

I’d found out the first time I’d been sent shopping that there was more on the agenda than buying fruit and vegetables---I had to earn the coin with which to make his purchases.  Master had set it up so that Georges delivered me to a small room in the village which contained only a bed and a wash stand upon which sat a warm pitcher of water.  Every male in the village, from twelve to seventy had been told that they could ‘spend time with me’ and men had been coming in from far and wide to participate.  Master had ensured that rumors were spread and the male population of the village had apparently doubled overnight in anticipation of arrival of the beautiful Norte Americano who would be freely giving away of her charms.

 

There had only been two rules for the villagers: I was not to be harmed or marked in anyway, and this included biting, slapping or hitting; and that all of the men were to be clean of any diseases.  One reason that the villagers adored him was that he would always have a doctor visit each village one day a week.  It was the first time that these people had ever had consistent medical care and it immediately bonded them to him.  It also allowed him to maintain a vigilant eye on the health of village inhabitants.  Thus, he knew for sure that the men were all healthy.  But in all honesty, I’m not sure that he cared whether or not the men were clean.  If I came down with an STD, I think that he might miss me but I knew too that I would quickly be gone from his sight forever.

 

Unfortunately, one man had hit me twice in the throes of sexual passion.  I truly had not minded, in fact I had responded even more to his aggressive attentions.  But Georges hadn’t even let us finish, immediately dragging him off of me and out into the low jungle where he shot him; everyone from that point on had obeyed my Master’s rules explicitly.

 

I had initially been unaware of my role to play there, but had assumed it willingly—for this was what Master had desired of me.  I’d lost count, but conservatively thought that I must have had sex with somewhere between thirty five and fifty men that day.  It took me hours and hours.  I’d sucked and fucked all day and when finished, I’d drained of seed every male villager that was willing to bed me.

 

Originally Georges would only let one man be alone with me at a time and I’d become impatient---it was taking too long.  To speed things up, I’d told Georges to let in more at one time.  By the end, all three of my body’s openings were filled at the same time and I had two more in my hands.  I’d been in slut heaven that day.

 

I’d not realized what was to happen on my first visit to one of these villages, so I’d wasted the little water that was in the pitcher and had not known to bring along a small towel like I had today.  This way, when I had finally worn out the last man in the village, I could clean myself off a little before I went into the market and purchased what was on Master’s list.

 

I thought back to that first visit to a village and even now I was still a little embarrassed.  The village men had cum in my hair and all over my face.  Their semen had been rubbed into my belly and pussy and rear, and was draining out of me on the insides of my thighs.  I’d probably swallowed a quart of their syrupy juice that day.  I was sore front and rear from all of the sex I’d both given and taken, and I’d done the best I could to clean myself up afterwards.  But it’d been necessary for me to walk stiffly and unwashed into the village square, covered from head to foot with the sticky, drying semen of their men; I’d had to walk by woman after woman, mother after daughter, wife after sister.

 

They’d glared at me and they’d turned their backs to me.  Some hissed at me like a snake and two had spit at me.  I had maintained my poise at that moment, but it was all a façade.  Unfortunately, what I needed to buy had to be purchased from the men that I’d just fucked; somehow that had been even worse.  While there were no overt actions---they were too smart for that---they’d puckered their lips at me, made soft kissing sounds and other, worse motions with their hands and their hips.  It was clear what they thought of me now.  I wasn’t virgin and exotic anymore, but rather completely explored territory that had been fully plowed and which was now to be cast off as barren and worthless.

 

But it really didn’t matter to me anymore---I knew that they’d want me again when I came back to them the next time I was here to ‘shop.’  I knew what I was—I’d had to choose and in the end, I’d chosen as I must, as my nature dictated.  HE had known long before I’d finally realized the basic truth about myself; that I needed someone running my life for me.  I was my Master’s whore---AND his slut.

 

I was twenty-one years old now.  I was an intelligent woman, a loving mother and willing slave to my Master’s needs and desires---this was my truth and my reality.  Other than the brand and the nipple piercings that I had been given that first day on the boat, he would not allow my body to be permanently marred or marked in any way.  Of course, this didn’t include the various bruises and temporary marks of ownership left by HIM when he shared with me his need to bring pain to our relationship.  I had grown accustomed; no, I had grown to need his pain.  This was my gift to him.

 

It had taken me months, but I had finally been able to admit to myself what I really was.  God, was I his slut!  I loved fucking him.  I gloried in fucking him.  I looked down at my lap.  Even now, the lips of my vagina and the muscles on the insides of my upper thighs ached; they actually physically ACHED to have him inside me, to fill me and extend me and to render me helpless before him when he was done with my body.

 

I was always waiting for more from him, I couldn’t get enough now.  I needed his essence, I’d shoot it into my veins if I could.  I found myself dressing up in sexy clothes and waiting for him everywhere now, hoping to lead him to my bed.

 

I hadn’t worn the last butt plug in months; with that rubber monstrosity fitted inside me, he’d ensured that I’d eventually been sized just right for him and now he routinely took me that way three or four times a week.  He was so big that it still hurt me when he entered my body, but I loved the way he gave me the pain, the way he filled my insides and the way he controlled my total physical being when he rode me.  He laughed now when he ‘drilled and filled’ me, but I had come to anticipate with pleasure the way that I felt my abdomen cramp up when he would first bore into me and distend my colon; when he first entered me and my anal sphincter would scream in protest, but would eventually grudgingly accept his meat.  If this was what it took to please him, then it was a small price to pay.

 

I knew now that he didn’t love me, at least in the way that I’d been brought up to think about love.  I wasn’t even sure that he was capable of love in that sense.  At the same time, I knew that I had some kind of a hold upon him, but what it is I have never known.  I have never tried to take advantage of this either.  Eventually my body will age; I know that my days here as one of his pleasure sluts will be over for me soon enough and that I will then be gone.  I don’t want to hasten the ending in any way.

 

I had always been so quiet before---now I use vulgar language and habitually cursed when we fucked.  And as I beg him for more, there was nothing that I wouldn’t say to please him.  There were other things that I now routinely did for him that I’d never dreamed I would do.  I’d learned to suck his cock after it’d been in my ass, just to taste myself on him.  There were other, worse things that I’d done too.  I was his slave and his whore; I was his submissive pain/pleasure slut now and forever.  I craved the way he owned me.  I would do anything he asked, as long it meant that he would continue treating me like the slave that I deserved to be.

 

He’d known me far, far better than I had ever known myself that day on the boat when he first took me.  He had told me that he was going to show me that it was all about my giving, while I was pretending that he was taking.  That in the end it was about intimacy and naked honesty, about fears and needs and losing myself in my desire to give him the gift of my suffering.  That there in the darkness there was no accountability for my cravings, and that he would be there to save me from myself and give my life meaning.”

 

For many long weeks in the beginning of my stay with him after I’d been broken and trained but before I’d truly understood, I’d felt that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling that one might get when they know that they’ve gone over to the Dark Side forever.  But I knew now that I’d be just fine.  That’s the good thing about the Dark Side.   Eventually, your eyes adjust.  I thought back to what Jorge had told me on the first day of my training: “You need to be mistreated in love.  You are the type of woman that will always from now on seek out angry and aggressive lovers.”  He had been right and now I had found that lover.  Forever.  Or at least until he tired of me.

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« Reply #37 on: January 11, 2018, 03:11:57 AM »

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