Klitzman's Paradise (The Klitzman Stories)

by Paul Blades

  I watched while indecision passed over the lovely face. She could protest, she could struggle. Or she could surrender to her fate. I was offering her the chance to ease her path. If she fought her fate, her next few weeks would be a travail of suffering. Not that Rukimo’s henchmen would spare her the whip. That was to be a part of her life from now on as well. But she would lighten her sentence to Rukimo’s dungeon if she showed them that she was ready to submit, even willing.

  The girl licked her lips and gave me a little nod. Her hips rose in invitation. I took hold of my stiff cock with my right hand and slid it along the edge of her soft, lush canal. Her feet pressed against my back, urging me onwards. Carol and Mary had taken positions on either side of me and they watched excitedly as I lowered myself into the girl. She gave a long, languorous sigh as I entered her. Her cunt was hot and tight. I sighed deeply as the warmth of her place of pleasure heated my tool. The soft compression of her pussy’s walls sent a wave of pleasure through me.

  “Ohhhh!” she exclaimed as I began my slow, rhythmic sawing within her. I raised my hips so that my strokes ran along her hardened clit, causing her to writhe and shake her hips. Her breasts were hard with her lust’s blood and her nipples stood up like wrinkled towers. I was leaning on my hands, holding myself above her and I watched her face record each time I sank my cock deeply within her. I signaled Mary and Carol to lie by her side and the lusty young women pressed their bodies against her to her right and left. Carol leaned over and took the panting blond girl’s mouth while Mary took possession of her teat. Their hands stroked her face, breasts and belly while I continued to drive back and forth inside her steaming cleft.

  My lust was getting near to the point of bursting. I wanted her to come first and I held my orgasm back, concentrating on her pleasure. Suddenly, her eyelids began to flutter, her hands twisted in her bonds. Her hips were thrusting back at me madly. “Mmmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmmmm!” I heard her moan into Carol’s mouth. My cock exploded. My head went dizzy and my balls grew tight. The girl’s pussy tightened and my cock recorded the throbs of her orgasm. I could feel my copious load as it passed down my electrified cock. At each spurt of my cum, I groaned and shook. Faster and faster I pumped until I felt myself emptied. I gave one more, arduous groan and I collapsed on top of her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A REUNION OF SORTS

  The van containing Miriam, Roxanne and Daphne took about twenty minutes to reach the main gate to the resort. The girls were made to exit the vehicle there, where they were placed on the rear of a small electrified cart. Buckled in safely, they were transported on the quiet whizzing vehicle on the macadam path that encircled the main buildings of the resort. If they had not been hooded, the girls would have seen several coffles of naked, gagged and bound young women wearing bright red high heeled shoes, trudging their way along. The women stopped and stepped by the side of the pathway to let the cart pass. Then carefully, in syncopation, recommenced their trek.

  The cart brought the girls to a low, white building. They were assisted in alighting and pulled by their leashes inside. They halted for a moment when they heard the deep voices of their escorts command it, and then they were brought through a set of doors. When their hoods were removed, they saw that they were in a large dressing room. There were fifteen sets of dressing tables on each side of the room. They had large mirrors and an array of makeup and perfumes set on top. Several naked young women were seated on each side, attending to their coiffures. Three large black skinned guards were standing around the room watching over them. The girls were shocked at what they saw. None of the women paid them any attention. Roxanne’s eyes met the eyes of one of them in the mirror. She was a well formed, slender girl with long blond hair and a curvaceous torso. She held Roxanne’s gaze momentarily, and then she went back to the process of applying liner to her lips.

  It was the duty of all of the slave girls on Klitzman’s island to maintain themselves at all times in the most desirable condition. This included a rigorous weight program, a careful diet, exercise and judicious attention to their appearances. Subject to callous use throughout the day, they were permitted at times to adjourn to this way station located on the edge of the buildings used by the guests and supervisors so that they could refreshen themselves. They would need the permission of a supervisor, of course, and their time in the small building was carefully monitored. When done, they would be sent back to their work posts, bound and gagged and again ready for use.

  One of the guards, holding a foot and a half long black stick in his hand, motioned the girls to the next set of doors. They were swinging doors and when they passed through them they were in a large, 20’ by 15’ shower. At each shower head was a selection of shampoos and cleansers. Two women were showering. One was a dark skinned beauty with long legs and jet black hair that cascaded down her back. She turned when the girls came in and the girls could see her sharply pointed conical breasts, with large dark areolas and thick nipples. Her loins were completely shaven and her twin nether lips stood out prominently. The other woman, a brunette, did not look to see who had come in. Her back and back side were covered with long, angry red lines as if she had been whipped. There was a two inch high, bright red, scriptive ‘k’ burned into her right buttock.

  The guard who had escorted the girls into the shower unlocked their wrists from behind their backs, removed the chains between their ankles and unbuckled their gags. He pointed to the showers and told the girls “Clean!” The prospect of a hot shower after their ordeal was inviting. The presence of the big black man was not. But the wand at his side looked foreboding and there seemed little point in modesty at this juncture. Roxanne and Miriam stepped gingerly over to shower heads and turned on the water. Daphne hesitated. She looked at the big man and, in a weak, supplicative voice asked the man, “Where are we?”

  The man looked casually down at the slender, somewhat frail young girl. She was about a foot shorter than him and seemed childlike in comparison. He took his wand and deftly placing it between Daphne’s legs pressed a button on its side.

  The baton gave out a loud ‘crack!’ Daphne screamed and fell to the white tiled floor as if she had been shot. She pressed her hands to her pussy and moaned loudly. Miriam and Roxanne squealed with fright at the sight of their friend in agony. Miriam tried to rush over to her to comfort her, but the guard waved his baton at her and she halted in her tracks. The women who had been showering paused in their ablutions and looked, but quickly went back to their tasks.

  Daphne squirmed and moaned on the floor. The guard stepped over to her and pushed his baton under her chin. She looked up at him frantically, her mouth creased in a frown, her lips trembling. “No talk,” was all the man said. Daphne nodded her understanding frantically. The last thing she wanted was another blast from the wand. “Up,” the man said sternly. Daphne scrambled to her feet and quickly stepped under a shower head. Crying silently, she turned the water on.

  Roxanne looked at the extensive array of beauty products on the shelf of the shower. There were several kinds of scented shampoos and conditioners. There was a large loofah sponge and a soft, round one. Several bars of different kinds of soaps sat in little dishes and two containers of different body washes. The water was hot and refreshing. She placed her head under the steady streams emanating from the shower head and relished the feel of them striking her scalp. The water ran down her body like a friend. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the reality of being in this strange place with these strange people. She gave a low moan of pleasure as her body started to relax. Realizing that she had made a noise, she turned quickly to see if the cruel black man was about to punish her. When she saw that he was still standing in the middle of the room, his sandaled feet set widely apart, she relaxed again and returned to her simple pleasure.

  Miriam chose the big, soft sponge and, after soaping it up, spread thick bubbly soap all over her body. She wondered if she would ever feel clean again after Slaughter’s assault of her rear and
having to suck him off with her residue still on his cock. She washed the tiny aperture of her rear carefully, the soap stinging where the tissues had torn. She worked the soap all over her pussy, working up a huge lather in her pubic hair. She massaged her large, sensitive breasts lovingly, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of the warmth of the water and the manipulation of her mammary tissues.

  Suddenly, she became self conscious and turned to see the guard carefully watching her. He had broad shoulders, a smooth, black face, strong features. His hips were wide and the thickness and musculature of his thighs could be seen through his knee length, black robe. She wondered if he wore anything underneath it. She found him attractive. But then, she realized that if he wanted to, he could fuck her right here. He had that vicious wand in his hand. He could make her suck his dick or fuck her in the ass. She was a prisoner here, wherever she was, and he was a jailor. With a sinking feeling inside her, she wondered if she would ever be free again.

  Daphne, was sniveling as she washed herself. She desperately wanted to know what was going to happen to them. That man Slaughter had called her a slut, a fuckbucket and other names. Was that what she was going to become? What was going to happen when they met up with the band members again? She took a quick glance over at the comely, pale skinned brunette with the red stripes on her back and the angry, red ’k’ burned into her behind. Who would just whip a woman like that? Was she going to be whipped? Her stomach turned as she realized that the cruel Slaughter was certainly capable of such a thing. He was the meanest and crudest of the three. “Why did I have to get him?” she thought miserably.

  The dark skinned woman and the brunette finished their showers and a couple of other women came in. The guard went around to the girls, after making certain that they had washed and rinsed their hair and brushed their teeth, and prodded them with his wand. They accepted his signal that their showers were over and turned off the water. He led them to a series of floor level bidets. None of the girls had ever used one, but they watched while the brunette who had been in the shower took the nozzle and carefully sprayed it over and inside her delicate slit. Her pubic hair had been trimmed to a little beard at the top and her nether lips were as bare as the day she was born. She used the nozzle to wash her rear and then, after cleaning it with a sanitary wipe, placed it back in its holder. The young women looked at each other apprehensively. This was a stark reminder of the impending resumption of their sexual abuse. None of them wanted to do it, but the guard nudged Miriam with the end of his baton and she went first, squatting over the open bowl, pushing the nozzle past her plump love lips.

  They then returned to the dressing room. Of course, no one was dressing there. There was an area set aside for the girls to dry and brush their hair. When they were done, they sat down at the make-up tables and prettied their faces. Roxanne sighed deeply as she looked at her face in the mirror. The reality of seeing her own likeness, the leather collar around her throat, brought back her fear and sorrow at her fate. What was the sense of making herself look pretty, she thought. Why should she want to please these men? She turned and saw Miriam applying liner to her eyes. Daphne was brushing a powder on her cheeks. Roxanne didn’t want to please any of these men. But if she looked ugly, mightn’t they treat her worse? She looked herself in the eyes. “Be strong!” she told herself. “Be strong! There has to be a way out of this!”

  After Roxanne finished doing her eyes and coloring her cheeks, she used a very light powder since her pale skin went well with her jet black hair, she joined Daphne and Miriam at the lipstick table. She chose a dark red color, darker than usual. She had done her nails yesterday before the fateful concert and they were still in pretty good shape and would be complemented by the shade she had chosen. She looked up at the mirror to apply the lipstick and saw Daphne’s reflection looking at her. Tears were forming in her eyes. Roxanne gave her a comforting smile. “We’re in this together,” she wanted her to know. “Be brave.”

  The pretty girl’s heart sank as the guard reaffixed her wrists behind her back. He proffered the gag back to her lusciously decorated mouth and she accepted it meekly. When the black hood went back over her head she gave a little sob.

  The girls were escorted back to the cart and reinstalled in the back. The engine started up and they were whisked away.

  It only took a minute or two to bring the girls to their destination. The band had been allotted one of the large mansions and the boys, showered and shaved, were eating breakfast on the deck when the girls arrived.

  “Here they are!” shouted Slaughter. He jumped up and ran inside. The girls were led into the large living room and the guard handed over the leashes to the drummer. He was dressed in the standard blue robe of the guests. The color set off nicely the dark blue of his tattoos. He pulled the hooded girls onto the deck and removed their hoods and gags one by one. “Ta ta!” he said when he was finished. “Good as new!”

  The three girls looked miserably at their oppressors, their hands still locked behind their backs. The memories of the savage men’s hands and lips on their bodies, their invasions with their conscienceless cocks, sprung immediately forth. These were the men who had kidnapped them and brought them to this strange place. These were the men who were going to rape and abuse them. Daphne began to cry again.

  Slaughter looked at the miserable blond girl and lashed his heavy hand out, slapping her brutally across her plump breasts. “Stop crying, cunt!” he yelled. The girl gave out a loud whine and a deep red imprint of the drummer’s hand appeared on her breast.

  “Come on!” Max shouted. “Let’s finish eating.”

  Slaughter made a gesture of agreement and spoke to the girls. “Get on you knees, cunts!” he told them. Fearfully, all three girls sank slowly to their knees. “Spread your legs,” he ordered them churlishly. He kicked his sandaled foot between Miriam’s thighs and forced them apart. “Don’t you cunts know anything?” he said. The frightened girls spread their knees widely, to the extent permitted by the 18” long chains that still connected their ankles. The drummer returned to the table and took his seat.

  None of the girls had eaten since dinner the night before. They looked on jealously as the men downed their eggs, bacon and coffee. There was a pile of sweet rolls in the middle of the table and a covered platter that had pancakes and waffles. A bowl of bright red strawberries sat at the end next to a large pitcher of cream.

  The men ate their meal, ignoring the presence of the three naked young women, except for an occasional lustful glance. Finally, Slaughter pushed back his plate and announced that he was horny. He got up from the table and addressed the frightened Daphne. “Ready to get fucked, cunt?” he asked her. Daphne looked up at him woefully. “Well, ready or not, you’re gonna get fucked,” he told her. “Follow me.”

  Daphne whined and looked at her friends. She didn’t want to be alone in a room with the cruel drummer. Not on your life. Slaughter, seeing that the girl had not sprung at his command came back to her. He seized her right nipple with his powerful hand and gave it a mighty twist. “Ohhhhhhhhhh!” Daphne yelled out in agony.

  “When I say follow me, slut, you follow me! So now we’ll do it the hard way!” He pulled the slight, blond girl to her feet by her breast. Daphne yelled out in pain.

  “Careful, Slaughter, you’ll wake the neighbors,” Max called out. He and Deke laughed. Slaughter dragged the bound girl back into the house with him. She took little, frantic, shuffling steps, limited as she was by the chain connecting her ankles. Roxanne was afraid to look and kept her face pointed straight ahead. Slaughter slid closed the glass door that divided the house from the deck and Daphne’s calls of pain became muted. As he tugged her across the living room to his bedroom, the sound of her anguished voice became lower and lower until it disappeared.

  Deke and Max stayed at the table laughing and joking. Miriam was distressed about her friend, Daphne. Another girl was supposed to come with them last night to the concert and at the last minute had c
ancelled. She had spoken to Daphne that morning and invited her. And now she was being abused by that animal Slaughter. She looked over at Roxanne, or Roxy as she thought of her. Roxy was one of her best friends. They had been roommates for about seven months. She worried about how Roxy was going to survive all this. And for that matter, how she was going to survive. At any moment, one of the men, probably Deke, would get up from the table and order her to his bedroom. He would fuck her and stick his cock in her mouth. After last night, he would probably want to fuck her in the ass too! She shifted nervously on her knees. Her mouth was dry and her stomach quailed.

  At that point, Deke rose from the table. He gave a big stretch and patted his stomach. “That was great,” he said. “I think I’ll get laid.” He looked over at Miriam. “We won’t have any trouble, will we?” he asked her.

  “N,no,” Miriam stammered. He was staring at her fluffy breasts. She felt that her large, fat nipples, bare for all the world to see, and surrounded by broad, reddish areolas, were like targets. She wanted to go home.

  “Okay, come on,” the short guitarist said. He was dressed, as was Max, in the blue robe of a guest at Klitzman’s resort. He pulled it open so that she could see his loins. “I’ve already got a hardon. You’re going to take care of it.”

  He walked towards the house and slid open the glass door. Miriam, naked, her hands still bound behind her back, obediently rose to her feet and, taking dainty little steps as required by her ankle chain, followed him inside and to his room.