Undercover Slave Girl

by Argus

  His right hand cupped her breast, kneading it firmly. Then more hands slid in, one cupping her left, two more sliding between her thighs, caressing her inner thighs and her pussy.

  “Y-You ca-can't touch me there,” she gasped, her breathing going ragged as she pulled free.

  She stumbled forward and was pulled into another man's lap, facing him this time. His hands slid around her and squeezed her buttocks, drawing her in closer as he began to suck and lick at her nipple. Again, hands slid in from either side, caressing her back, sliding through her hair, kneading her breast, and sliding in between her thighs.

  She was starting to become unglued by it all, her mind spinning, her chest tight and her body flaring with strange rippling rolls of embarrassment and dark arousal. Her body was thrumming with excitement, sexual and otherwise, and she felt wildly off-balance.

  She flinched away from the fingers when one found her clit, and rubbed it, but stumbled and was pulled back onto another man's lap, but by the arms, not the waist, and she felt strong hands drawing her arms back behind her, then holding them there, crossed at the elbow. She gasped as another hand pulled on her hair, forcing her head up and back. Then hands lifted her legs up and spread them apart, wide apart, as another hand slid between her legs and began to rub her clit quite deliberately.

  “P-Please!” she gasped weakly, feeling light-headed.

  “Would you like to make a very great deal of money? O'Neil asked, sitting across from her.

  He laid a bill on the table. It was the first thousand dollar bill she'd ever seen, and then laid another on top of it, then a third.

  “I-I can't... you can't...”

  Another bill and another followed, as she squirmed and pulled against the hands grasping her legs, and against the fingers massaging her overheated sex.

  He slowly unzipped his trousers, and then reached in through the fly. She saw him draw out his cock, and her eyes widened at the size of him. She'd never had a cock that big before. It wasn't monstrous, but it was certainly long and thick.

  All of a sudden the hands holding her thighs drew back, as did the one massaging her pussy. Then her hair was released, and she was eased forward onto the carpet by strong hands, onto her knees, in fact. They released her, but not entirely. She twisted and jerked her head around, gasping, as she felt the soft leather around her arms just above the elbows. They pinned her arms together there, crossed.

  “Come, girl,” O'Neil demanded.

  She eased forward hesitantly, on her knees, trembling, gasping, eyes rolling around at them all looking down at her.

  “I-I don't... don't do this – .”

  “But you will,” O'Neil said, his voice calm but hard.

  She felt a sense of menace to his voice, and swallowed repeatedly, then shuffled further. Should she be panicking and screaming now? Would she 'blow her cover' by not? But if she did there would be police and she knew that wasn't what Smith wanted. A good little whore would not turn her nose up at all that money, would she?

  And then his hand was in her hair, combing through it, caressing it, drawing her forward, bending her over. She shuddered as her hard nipples pressed into the fabric of the bench, as her breasts pillowed out, but hardly noticed as his cock slid into her open mouth.

  She had to strain wide, and rolled her eyes fearfully up at him as he looked down.

  There was nothing for it but to do as she had to, and so she looked down the length of his shaft and began to suck and lick. Slowly, she slid her lips down, further and further, even as his hand slid over her body. She jerked against the leather strap or whatever it was pinning her arms together, but it held firmly in place.

  She gasped as his hand slapped her bottom.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered.

  Quivering, she obeyed, and then got another slap.

  “Wider,” he ordered.

  Heart pounding, she sucked harder at his cock as she spread her legs wide. She flushed darkly, knowing the view the men behind her had, and felt a wild sense of uncertainty and fear. Would one of them enter her!? Would she have to take them all on at once?! Be gang banged!? She hadn't considered that kind of thing when she'd let Smith pressure her into this!

  Then she felt a hand against her sex. She tried to jerk up, but O'Neil's big hand on her head held her firmly in place. A moment later there was another hand on her, and then another, and then another. As O'Neil pushed her downward she felt hands groping her breasts, her buttocks, and her thighs. Someone was rubbing her clitoris, and then a finger, a thick, long finger, entered her and pushed deep.

  Helpless and bound, she could do nothing about any of them, even if she knew what to do! The finger inside her became a second, then a third, pumping slowly in and out, twisting and turning inside her. Fingers plucked at her stiff breasts, pinching and rolling, and then she gurgled as all her attention was taken by O'Neil's cock pushing into her throat.

  She did her best to frantically slicken the thick hard shaft as it followed, sliding deeper into her throat as his hand pushed down on the back of her head. She gagged weakly, but controlled herself as her lips slid the rest of the way down his shaft, and then he was fully buried, throbbing, inside her as hands slid back and forth across and over and inside her body!

  Hannah had considered herself an experienced woman, sexually, but this was so beyond the pale she could hardly believe she wasn't in a state of absolute shock! Her hips ground and twisted and rolled, but she could not pull free from the hands firmly pinning her legs apart, and sliding slowly over the curves of her body. She couldn't even see them, as her face was buried in O'Neil's lap.

  She felt her chest tightening and her head pounding as his thick shaft cut off her air. He held her in place face in his groin, hands roaming everywhere, until she started to feel a sense of panic. Then his grip relented and she slid her lips back up the shaft. The head popped free of her throat and she gulped in thick breaths of air.

  He didn't let her head go, but actually tightened his grip on it, tilting her head up and back so that he she was staring up at him as he stared back down. He held his thick cock in his other hand, and slapped it lightly against her face as she gasped for breath, then tilted her head back down and pushed himself back into her mouth.

  At least three fingers were thrusting into her now, and sometimes it felt like four! Slick fingers were rubbing at her clitoris while hands kneaded her breasts and caressed her buttocks. Then she felt a finger pushing into her ass, and gurgled as O'Neil's cock slid into her throat and her face descended fully into his groin.

  She was electric with tension and stress and shock, but swimming, as well, through a strange dark heat that actually threatened to turn into the hot fever she'd felt with Wilson. Hannah was dismayed at this, and forced the heat back as she focused on the job at hand, that being coping with O'Neil's cock stuffed down her throat.

  Her head pounded, and black dots danced before her eyes, and then she gurgled as he pulled her head up by the hair and his cock came free. She coughed and gulped in air, eyes glassy as he tilted her head up and back again, staring at her.

  She moaned, gasping at each hard thrust from the fingers inside her. Her legs were still held tightly wide, her bottom raised, and now the finger in her ass was deep and twisting around, a second moving to join it. She winced and gasped as fingers pinched and plucked at her nipples, then she was pulled back onto O'Neil's cock and slid down to the hilt.

  “Such a lovely young woman,” he said. “Very valuable, in your own way, and worth a good deal of money.”

  He pulled her up again and she gasped, chest heaving. “I think I want to buy you,” he said calmly.

  “I-I...I'm n-not for s-sale!” she gasped.

  His lips curled slightly. “Of course you are. All women are. There but remains the price to discuss.”

  Then he shoved her back down on his cock again, pinning her there for long seconds before pulling her back up once more.

&nbs
p; “I'm given to understand you can make as much as a thousand American dollars a month here,” he said. “That is a great deal of money – to some people.”

  He pushed her back down again, and this time she found herself getting used to the thickness in her throat, and even able to draw in a little breath around his thick shaft.

  “It is nothing to me, of course,” he said, drawing her back up by the hair. “I can pay you several times as much for a more personal and private use.”

  Hannah's head ached. She was still gasping, chest heaving, and fighting through churning, swirling rushes of heat, anxiety and sensation. But she felt a sudden mercenary thought, wondering if she could get paid by Smith and also by O'Neil. That would certainly guarantee the safety of the estate...

  She was pulled down onto his cock again, gulping it down as it slid down her throat.

  “In return, you will learn to perform exactly as I desire,” he said. “I will teach you much, including about yourself and your body.”

  He pulled her back up, and her mouth filled with liquid as she sucked almost dazedly, instinctively, swallowing it down. She heard him sigh, then grunted as he pulled her up by the hair again.

  “You are a sexual animal, like many young women,” he said. “We shall bring that animal alive within you.”

  She felt herself pulled upright, still on her knees, chest heaving, and eyes still glazed.

  “And when you return, perhaps you will earn even more money here,” he said. “For you will have come fully into your heat, and men will sense this and wish to posses you, if only for a few moments in time.”

  He showed her a thick roll of bills, then unrolled it. They were all thousand dollar bills.

  “For you,” he said, for a few days of … amusement.”

  She stared at the money, trying to calculate how many bills were in the thick wad of cash.

  Then his hand went to her mouth.

  “Open,” he ordered.

  Her mouth was already open, in fact, since she was still breathing very deeply. A tug on her hair pulled her head up and back and opened her mouth further as something was pushed in, wedged in, something rubbery, leathery... a ball gag, she realized with a shock.

  The strap went around her head, and then she stared down at O'Neil's hands as his fingers plucked and pinched at her nipples. He tugged them out, stretching them so they ached, and she gasepd as one of the other men moved in with a pair of clips on the end of chains. He let them close around her straining nipples, and as O'Neil let go a sharp burst of intense pain bit into both.

  Hannah cried out, twisting and writhing as the clips crushed her aching nipples, but O'Neil only stroked her hair.

  “It will pass,” he said. “Nothing I do will harm you. Your body is like a work of art to me, and I would never cause damage to it.”

  The intensity of the pain did begin to ease down to a hot throbbing ache as she was lifted to her feet. She saw that the two clips were attached by thin chains which joined together into a longer one attached to a leather handle.

  It was … a leash, of sorts, and all the men turned to walk out of the room, O'Neil pulling on the leash. Hannah gasped at the sudden jerk on her nipples, and twisted around, hurriedly following him as they exited into the even more dimly lit aisle outside.

  They all turned, headed through the narrow corridor to the back door, she wearing nothing but her stiletto heels.

  Chapter Five

  They emerged into the alley behind the club. A long, sleek limousine with tinted windows stood there, with a large SUV parked behind. The men who were with O'Neil mainly headed for the SUV as a man in a suit held open the rear door to the limo.

  Hannah was acutely aware that she was entirely nude as the soft, cool air rushed over her skin. Her eyes were huge as she stared around her with a sense of shocked disbelief. This had not been the kind of thing she had expected and her mind was swirling and churning as she tried to keep from panicking.

  She had thought slavery meant she and O'Neil in his home – . No! He lived in a castle! A castle! She was being taken to a castle to be a sex slave! It was almost unbelievable! But even so, she'd imagined she and O'Neil alone, playing occasional bondage games. Not... this! Being naked in front of his men, well, that was at least in the club, in the champagne room, where she'd been publicly naked so often in the recent past. It was weird but at least somewhat familiar. But being outside, in the alley, staring up and down wildly at the traffic and people moving past on either side of the alley, this was beyond shocking.

  She gasped at a slap to her bottom, and jerked her eyes around to O'Neil.

  “Back straight,” he said, he ordered. “Always keep your back straight.”

  She hadn't even entirely agreed to anything! What was he doing!? Wasn't there supposed to some sort of romantic dinner and an attempt to seduce her into accompanying him!? She had expected a slow lovemaking session at an expensive hotel, maybe slow introduction to bondage games, an invitation to his yacht.

  Instead she was being carried away like a... like a prisoner, like a sex slave! This was not what she agreed to with Smith! At least, it wasn't what she had thought she was agreeing to!

  Her face burned at the look the man holding the door gave her, even though, of course so many men had seen her nude in the club. But this was different!

  O'Neil headed for the limo, and the cruel pull of the clips on her nipples forced her to hurry after, blushing furiously as he climbed in, the chain pulling inexorably on her nipples forcing her to bend over and climb in, one knee on the seat, twisting with a muffled cry of pain as he pulled her in and the door closed behind them.

  “Don't worry, you'll get used to it,” he said, his hand squeezing her breast for a moment.

  She shook her head rapidly and tried uselessly to protest, but the gag made it impossible to speak, for it pinned her tongue down and would not allow her to form words, however muffled they would otherwise have been.

  He pulled the clips off her nipples, then drew the seat belt across to pin her to the seat even as her nipples burned with a fiery stinging ache at the release of pressure. Hannah twisted and jerked as the fresh pain burned into them, but it slowly eased as she sat back, gasping weakly.

  The limousine moved off down the alley and then paused at the sidewalk. There were people standing not five feet away staring at her, and even though the windows were heavily tinted Hannah shrank back.

  O'Neil was already on the phone, but she didn't recognize the language at first. Then it came to her, it was Gaelic! The limousine pulled into traffic and headed through the city, and there was nothing for Hannah to do but sit there, still shocked, and see all those eyes staring at the big car as it moved past them.

  The drive was about twenty minutes, into the suburbs, then through a gate, down a long driveway, and into a garage in a large, stately home. The limo driver popped out and ran around to get the door on O'Neil's side. He got out and went inside. Then another man opened the other day, one of those who had been at the club, removed her seat belt, took her arm, and pulled her out of the car.

  He led her into the house, down a narrow corridor to a set of narrow stairs leading up. He had to push her ahead of him, for there wasn't room for two. Upstairs, around a corner, was a beautiful hallway with paintings on the wall and gleaming hardwood floors. They went into the nearest room, which was completely empty, or at least, empty of furniture.

  It had high ceilings with elaborate corner moldings and a fireplace at one end. Two broad windows looked out on a garden with a narrow stream running through it. The floor was polished wood, with a round, blue Persian type rug in the center. There were also two enormous, full-length mirrors in the corners of the room bracketing the fireplace. Each was at least five feet wide, and she wondered what they were for.

  They were joined by another man and Hannah found herself pushed against one of the walls as padded leather restraints were efficiently locked to her wrists an
d ankles.

  The leather strap binding her elbows together was released at last, and she moaned as her stiff joints protested. The man pulled her arms firmly up and out, then pulled her away from the wall and into the center of the room to stand in the middle of the round rug. Her arms were lifted up and out and she saw them fasten chains to the restraints, then lock them in place.

  Her legs were pulled apart and similar chains were attached to them, all the chains taut but not pulling on her. One of the men grinned and patted her bottom. The other gave one of her breasts a squeeze. Then they left her, turning off the light and closing the door behind.

  What have I gotten myself into, she wondered dazedly. She knew that Smith would know where she was from the tracker – presuming he even thought to look for her. For all she knew he wouldn't miss her until she was already in Ireland! The only light in the room was starlight and moonlight coming through the windows behind her, casting her shadow against the wall.

  She tried to work her jaw around the ball-gag. It was uncomfortable, holding her jaw apart in an unnatural position for so long. Almost as bad, she was starting to drool around it, which was gross and discomforting. But at the same time, the whole thing had a bizarre, almost unreal eroticism to it that was arousing some dark side of her sexuality she had done her best to ignore.

  After some five minutes the door opened. The lights snapped on, and Hannah's eyes squinted against he light. She blanched, though, as a middle aged woman came in. The woman looked at her with some interest for a few seconds, then shook her head, muttered something in Gaelic, and turned to the fireplace. There was already wood set in place, and evidently tinder. The woman squatted by the fireplace, set fire to the latter, and then quickly built up a fire in the logs, before turning, snapping off the light, and leaving without a second glance.

  She stood in place for some time. It was hard to measure, but she guessed it to be over half an hour, perhaps longer. She had nothing to do but stare at the flames, and at her own dim images in the two big mirrors, and wonder, somewhat forlornly, what was to become of her. Her legs and arms were getting stiff, but she could not bend them. It was bizarre! And yet, the sight of herself, helpless, stretched out, nude, was strangely fixating.