A Family In Slavery

by Peter King

  Monica was aghast as she witnessed them abusing her daughter, but unable to do anything other than watch the depraved scene. Maria strained and struggled in vain, her head still under the loose hood. Then she watched as Sam took a large knife and sliced away her clothes, leaving a tattered pile of cloth on the floor. The sight of her daughter, now naked and helpless with these two brutes was all Monica could stand and unable to stop it, she sobbed in despair.

  Sam took up a position behind the beautiful young lady and removed the hood, exposing the terror stricken face of Maria. The poor girl’s face was wet with tears, as she cried and yelled in shocked disbelief, but Monica could hear nothing from where she was watching. She saw Sam rest his chin on Maria’s shoulder and look directly into the mirror at her, as she tried to make eye contact with Maria. But the girl did not look like she saw her at all and she guessed it was one-way glass separating them.

  Hugging Maria and mauling her trembling breasts in his strong hands, Sam whispered, “As I just told your mother, you are now my property and you will learn how to serve me.”

  The girl tried to twist away, shocked and appalled she cried, “Take your hands off me! What are you talking about? Where am I? Where is my mom?”

  “So many questions, so few answers,” replied Sam, as he groped her generous tits while the girl squirmed in his grip. “All you need to know is that the three of you belong to me and I will use you as I see fit. Now feel free to scream all you like, no one can hear you.”

  He released his grasp on her exposed tits and stepped back, taking a coiled whip off his belt and unfurling it. As Maria continued to plead and question him, he cracked the whip in the air as he stood behind her. Maria could see him clearly in the large mirror in front of them, as fear gripped her and her mother who was forced to noiselessly watch the immoral scene from behind the glass. When the first blow landed across Maria’s back with a loud CRACK, she screamed a bloodcurdling cry as her mother strained and shrieked into her gag. Watching her child stripped and whipped in front of her was a torture far worse than anything Sam could physically do to her, at least that was what she thought.

  Nine more times he wrapped the thin braided leather whip around Maria’s torso, not only striping her back, but also leaving angry red stripes across her tanned belly and milky white tits. Maria struggled throughout, wailing and crying as her body absorbed each stinging strike. Monica was distraught as she watched the pain etched into her daughter’s pretty face, cursing Sam in her mind, but knowing they were completely at his mercy, or lack thereof.

  After coiling and clipping the whip back onto his belt, Sam stepped up to Maria’s back and this time reached down between her parted thighs. His hands explored her young pussy, neatly framed by her trimmed blonde bush. Maria tensed as she felt his finger stroke her sex and particularly her clitoris. She strained against the cuffs holding her wide open, but could not evade his probing hands. Despite the pain he just inflicted on her and the frightening position she was in, his fingers quickly started a fire between her legs.

  Maria was sexually active, enjoying sex with several partners in the last couple of years. But the way Sam now toyed with her clit was different, and even under this massive duress, he easily manipulated her love bud until it was erect and throbbing with desire. Behind the glass Monica watched Sam’s hands paw her daughter’s sex and felt a new and desperate fear at what might happen next. The idea of watching him sexually abuse her daughter was far more disturbing than watching him whipping her had been.

  Maria’s gyrations soon changed from resistance to an unabashed attempt to grind against the digits teasing her sex. Her breathing was ragged and her pleas of, ‘no, no, no.’ soon lost their conviction. His hard strong body against her back and his experienced exploitation of her clitoris was having an effect on the young girl. Her pleas continued, despite the absence of sincerity in her voice.

  Again resting his chin on her shoulder, he whispered, “Beg me to fuck you girl and you won’t feel the whip again today.”

  “No! Please no more!” she begged, appalled at what he asked of her, even as her pussy started to lubricate under the skillful attention of his fingers.

  “So you want ten more lashes?” he asked.

  “No, please don’t make me say it!” she cried, unwilling to ask him to take her that way.

  “If you don’t beg me to fuck you right now I will give you ten lashes far harder than the first ten,” he said, as he slipped a finger into her now moist tunnel.

  She gasped as she pushed her ass back from the intrusion into her pussy and felt his rigid cock through his pants. It was large and now nestled between her ass cheeks, sending an unspoken message to her juicy cunt. But he wanted her to actually ask for it, a thought that was deeply humiliating to the distressed girl. The alternative, however, was far more distressing.

  So she girded herself and said, “Please fuck me.”

  He pulled her tighter to his body and replied, “Not good enough, make me believe you girl.”

  “FUCK ME! PLEASE FUCK ME!” she screamed in desperation, partly afraid of the whip, but more so because her sex was on fire.

  Behind the glass Monica could see her lips move and knew what Maria was screaming. She closed her eyes, unable to watch what was apparently about to happen. She knew at that moment that Sam’s cruelty knew no bounds, especially since it was obvious that he wanted to witness her daughter being raped. Even though she saw Maria ask to be fucked, she knew it was coerced and tantamount to rape.

  But Sam had different plans, and after Maria abased herself by begging to be fucked, he simply whispered, “Good girl, you will make quite a fine slut. But you won’t feel my cock inside you until you beg from sincerity rather than from fear.”

  He put the hood back over her head and left her there, alone with the hooded man, as he returned to Monica. When he entered the room she still had her eyes closed, tears pouring down her cheeks as she imagined what was happening to Maria. He was stealthy as he took up a position just behind her.

  “Open your eyes bitch,” he said.

  Hearing his voice startled her and her eyes sprang open to see Maria being released from her bondage. The hooded man had released her wrists and was cuffing them behind her back again, her legs still secured wide apart. Monica wanted to look over her shoulder and face Sam, but she was fixated on Maria as the man now released her ankle cuffs and led her out of sight.

  “I did not fuck your sweet little girl Monica, though I could have. You are the one I want, your daughters are simply additional bonuses should you fail to please me. When was the last time you felt a cock inside your pussy Monica?” he asked.

  The shocked woman was speechless, the answer to his question far too embarrassing to readily admit. The truth was that she had not had real sex since her divorce, deciding to focus all her attentions on raising her daughters. Nearly eighteen years since she had been with a man was a fact she never faced until now, and the thought shook her to her core. That simple question brought out feelings she had buried and a sense of loss she did not understand.

  “A long time,” she whispered, not willing to quantify the statement.

  Sam reached around and grabbed her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress and the flimsy bra beneath it. He massaged her orbs, feeling her nipples grow from the attention. He was enjoying this part, getting her to sacrifice herself, or so she would think to save her girls.

  “Are you willing to submit to me as my sex-slave to keep me from using your daughters instead?’ he asked her.

  “I will do whatever you want if you leave my girls alone!” she cried.

  “We shall see,” he said, as he began to release Monica.

  ***

  Maria was a mass of confusion after Sam dropped the hood back over her head. She felt her wrists released and locked behind her back again, making no motion to resist, as her mind was a mass of uncertainty. When her ankles were released she drew her legs together, just before she was tugged by
the arm and led away from where she was just bound.

  The hooded man took her to a small room and guided her to sit on a hard wooden chair. She felt a strange bulbous object protruding from the seat that nestled against her sex. Her arms were pinned between her back and the back of the chair and she felt straps wrapped around her torso above and below her naked breasts. Once the straps were tightened she was securely fixed to the chair, but it became worse as her ankles were pulled apart and lashed to the front legs.

  The hood was removed and she saw she was sitting in front of a large television screen, the screen black and shiny. The room was small and apparently contained just her in the chair and the television mounted on the wall facing her. The hooded man strapped a harness around her head, which forced a gag between her lips, eliminating her ability to question what was happening to her. He tightened the straps that encased her head. He did something above her and she felt her head pulled up as he locked a chain from the ceiling to the top of the harness. This forced her to stare forward at the blank screen.

  Then the man knelt in front of the chair-bound beauty and removed his mask. Maria saw a Hispanic man she did not recognize smiling at her and gagged as she was, could not say a thing, though a million questions ran through her rattled mind. This whole ordeal had left her in a state of shock, her flesh still burning from her recent taste of the lash and her pussy still moist from Sam’s nimble fingers.

  “You are here because your mother is a whore girl, but I don’t expect you to believe me. So I will leave you alone to watch and learn what kind of slut bore you,” he said, and then he stood up and left her alone.

  Maria strained against the straps holding her, but quickly learned she was here to stay. It seemed like a long time passed to the girl, as she sat there in the room, a single light above illuminating the dingy space. Then the light went out and she was dropped into complete darkness, a fear spreading across her and crawling across her bare flesh. Then, just as suddenly, the screen lit up and a buzzing started between her legs. The feeling was unmistakable, a vibrator was humming on the seat, and more powerful than the one she kept hidden in her bedroom.

  But the feeling of pleasure between her legs was masked by what her eyes saw, Mom! She saw her mother standing in front of a seated Sam, slowly undressing for him. In fact, she was doing a sensual striptease, a sight the young girl could never have imagined her mother doing. Then, after Monica was naked, she sank to her knees and crawled between Sam’s legs, reaching up and removing his cock from his pants.

  The bitch! She thought, as she watched her mother start to suck Sam’s cock, looking like she was in heaven. What was going on she wondered, even as the buzz between her legs was starting to have its desired effect on her. She watched, half in fascination and half in a stupor of arousal that was building in her own sex. Maria was confused, enraged, appalled, and aroused all at the same time, and she thrashed in her bonds wanting to make it stop.

  Chapter 3: Megan Begins Her Journey

  In a cell just like Monica had woken up in, Megan slowly came out of her drug-induced sleep. She reached up and rubbed her eyes before realizing something was wrong. Just like her mother she was soon pounding on the metal door screaming for help, and just like her mother also found it useless. She curled up on the bare cot, trying to remember what happened and soon came to the same realization her mother had reached.

  When the door banged open and the hooded man entered, she mimicked her mother again, curling up into a tight ball on the cot. Her pink summer dress that her mother made her wear to dinner making the girl feel vulnerable, she always hated dresses or skirts for leaving her privates too exposed. Megan was a virgin, a fact Sam suspected, and she was in no hurry to lose it, like her sister had done when she was a year younger than Megan.

  He barked the same order for her that he had given Monica earlier, but instead of protesting or questioning him, the terrified girl obeyed. In a minute she was shackled and hooded, and then led away from the tiny room. Like her sister and her mother, she stumbled along blind and scared from what was happening to her. Her trip was short, just being moved into another room with a stout chain hanging a few feet above the center of the floor.

  Megan had kept quiet, afraid to resist or protest the rough treatment, smart enough to know it could do her no good. Of the three Freeman women Megan, though youngest, was always the most levelheaded in the family. Both Maria and her mother had resisted and suffered for it, but so far Meg knew enough to comply with a brute that was twice her size.

  He guided her to the center of the room and said; “Bend over,” pushing between her shoulders as he spoke. As she bent over, he started lifting her wrists up by grasping her cuffs. She started to resist as one hand pushed her head down, while the other hoisted her wrists up, but it did not stop him from easily clipping her cuffs onto the dangling chain. When he stepped away she found her arms trapped up high behind her forcing her to bend over until her torso was nearly parallel to the floor.

  The strain was too much to bear; her shoulders were already strained and aching. She cried, “NO! Please let me down, I’ll do whatever you want! It hurts, please!”

  The sound of a loud CRACK filled the room, as he swung a large wooden paddle against her backside. The thin dress and panties she wore did little to diffuse the impact, a shock of pain exploding in her flanks making her dance and scream. She was crying and pleading ‘No!’ as he delivered two more equally devastating blows to her arse, the girl nearly wrenching her shoulders the way she danced about from the pain.

  “You will remain silent, further outbursts will earn even more severe corrections,” he said.

  She hung there, sobbing and terrified, as he started working on her bondage again. He attached cuffs to her ankles and pulling her legs apart he fastened a three-foot spreader bar between them. He followed that with another set of cuffs just above her knees held apart by a two-foot bar. She was severely restricted now, barely able to move and terrified like never before.

  The way she was stretched and bent over her dress was barely concealing her panty-clad buttocks, but after her cuffs were installed she felt her dress flipped up onto her back. Now the thin pink cotton of her panties barely protected her flanks, stretched taut by her splayed legs. She wanted to beg him to stop, but fear of another reprisal kept her tongue still. Her mind was in turmoil, sure that this position meant her precious virginity would be torn asunder.

  But that did not happen; instead, he reached around her and yanked the hood off, then left the room, slamming the door as he exited. It took her a moment to realize her worst fear had not yet happened and she lifted her head to look around. The sight before her eyes made them grow wide, as she saw her own reflection in the mirrored wall facing her.

  Her face was damp from tears, her eyes red from crying and her beautiful hair was a mess. But the position she was in was shocking, seeing her hands cuffed and held up above her bowed head. Her body bent downward from the strain and her light dress and thin bra barely containing her large breasts as the mounds bulged against the straining material. She hung her head and started another crying fit, wondering what was happening to her and for that matter, her mother and sister too.

  The ache in her shoulders and the strain on her legs was becoming unbearable after a prolonged time alone, but when the door opened again she felt a pang of fear swell across her, afraid to look up and see who was coming into the room. But she could not resist and did lift her head, shocked to see a girl, one that looked not much older than she was.

  In the mirror she watched as the slim girl walked in, wearing high-heeled white pumps and a skimpy white tunic that barely concealed her large breasts and shapely figure. The girl walked around to face her and knelt on the floor just in front of Megan, the two girls’ eyes meeting for the first time. She smiled at Meg, but the distraught girl merely stared back, the fear plain on her face.

  “I am Katia, my Master’s slave. I am hear to start your training Meg,” she said, h
er voice melodic and reassuring, regardless of the words she just uttered.

  “Why is this happening? Where is my mother and Maria,” she asked, feeling a sense of safety despite the strange circumstances of this meeting.

  Katia put a finger to her lips, indicating silence, and said, “I will have to punish you for speaking, and I know you were warned. Don’t speak again just listen. I won’t tell you why you are here yet, because you would not believe me anyway. But you are here and you had best learn fast how to behave, so you don’t suffer more than necessary.”

  Megan’s mind was in shock, master’s slave? She stared at the beautiful Katia, her delicate features so perfect. Almond shaped eyes that were as blue as Megan’s, a pert nose and high cheekbones framed her face. Her blonde hair was strikingly similar to her own and what was most disconcerting was she seemed happy. She proclaimed herself a slave and looked absolutely delighted that she was.

  As she tried to think, Katia continued, “Now please remain silent so I can examine and prepare you.”

  The girl stood up and Megan noticed she was holding a pair of scissors, which were immediately used to cut the shoulder straps from her dress and then her bra straps. Katia stood just above Megan’s head, her legs slightly parted so the girl’s head was nearly between her legs as she used the scissors to cut down the back of her dress. Megan listened to the snipping sound as her dress was cut away, soon falling off her and onto the floor. Another snip and her bra fell on top of the crumpled fabric, leaving her breasts hanging free beneath her.