Shameful Reckonings

by S. J. Lewis

  “Y-y-yes, sir,” she stammered.

  “Good,” he nodded. “Now, come here, bitch.”

  Giancarla edged towards him, wishing that she could somehow melt into the wall instead. He seemed even more menacing than Boris had, but she was more afraid of the consequences of not obeying him than she was of anything he might do once she was within his reach. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and well-muscled and the closer she got to him the smaller and more helpless she felt. She stopped very close to him.

  “You’re an American,” he said as his hand came up to play with her nipples. “But they tell me you were also a countess. That right?”

  “Yes, sir,” Giancarla replied. She kept looking down at his boots. This close she didn’t think she’d be able to meet his gaze.

  “Married some rich European, eh?” he chuckled nastily. “Tell me, bitch,” he went on as his other hand came up to cup a breast, “What did you do to get your husband to rid himself of such a great piece of ass as you?”

  When Giancarla couldn’t bring herself to answer, he pinched her nipples hard.

  “Well?” he asked in a frighteningly mild voice as Giancarla winced and tried not to pull away. “Answer me, bitch!”

  “I… had a lover…” she whimpered.

  “Ah. Was he any good?”

  Again, Giancarla hesitated. His grip on her nipples intensified until she screamed.

  “Yes!” she wailed. “Yes, he was good!”

  “So, he fucked you. Did you suck his big, hard cock, bitch?”

  “No!” Giancarla keened. The pain was unbearable. “No, I didn’t!”

  “Did he ever fuck you up the ass?”

  “No! Never!”

  He let go of her nipples, and Giancarla sobbed.

  “All those holes and you only let him use one?” the man sounded as if he didn’t believe her. “Seems like a right waste to me. No matter. I’ll get to use all of them.”

  Giancarla shuddered. She had no doubt that he meant what he said.

  “What’s your name, bitch?”

  “G-Giancarla,” she replied. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She tried to blink them back. She’d been clinging to the desperate hope that all this was some elaborate scheme of Nicholas’ to punish and humiliate her before he took her back, but it was all too apparent that that wasn’t the case. She was indeed in some hellhole. She didn’t want to think about what they would do to her here.

  “Giancarla,” the man said, rolling the name around in his mouth. “Well, it’s a proper name for a countess, but you ain’t a countess any more, are you? You need a shorter name. I’ll call you ‘Gia’ when I don’t call you ‘bitch’. Got that, Gia?”

  “Yes, sir,” Giancarla sobbed. She felt very close to breaking down now. Any minute she’d dissolve into tears and cries and pointless begging for mercy. She didn’t know where she was, but she had a feeling that it was far, far away from her home.

  Before that could happen, though, the man suddenly grabbed her with both hands around her neck and forced her down onto the reed mat. Panic replaced tears as she felt his weight holding her down, crushing her. She kicked and squirmed under him until she ran out of breath and had to stop. Once she stopped, he raised himself off of her.

  “Get yer bleedin’ arse up, bitch,” he yelled. A hard slap on her ass accompanied the order. Giancarla, panting and gasping, obeyed. She braced herself for hard, brutal rape. Instead, she felt his finger touching her pussy lips.

  “What’s this, bitch?” he demanded.

  “My... my pussy, sir,” she answered.

  “Wrong!” he yelled, slapping her ass again. “You say: ‘It is your pussy, sir.’ Now, try it again.”

  “It’s your pussy, sir,” Giancarla whimpered.

  “And this?” his finger moved only a little and tapped gently at her anus.

  “It’s m… It’s your asshole, sir.” Giancarla squeezed her eyes shut tight.

  “That’s right,” he said, slapping her ass again. “Now, what’s this?” His finger slid deftly between her pussy lips and touched her clitoris.

  Giancarla shuddered violently. “It’s your clit, sir,” she answered in a tiny voice.

  “You learn fast,” he said. He thrust a second finger into her and started massaging. “The Doc told me you get wet fast, too. You’d better, for your own sake.”

  Giancarla held as still as she could while he probed and stimulated her. She couldn’t help whimpering and trembling, but he didn’t seem to mind that. She suspected that he actually enjoyed it. In spite of her curdling fear, Giancarla felt herself growing wetter under his skillful manipulations, as if her pussy had a will of its own.

  “That’s enough,” her trainer said. She didn’t even have time to brace herself before he rammed his cock into her, hard enough to make her slide along the rough reed mat on the side of her face for a little way. He took a grip on her hips and started pounding her, hard and fast and mercilessly. With each thrust his loins slammed into her upturned ass, driving the air out of her in breathy grunts. All she could do was take it, and he gave it to her in spades. She didn’t enjoy any part of it. Her pussy was still a little sore on the inside from the doctor’s examination, and very sore on the outside from the wax treatment that had ripped it hairless. She hoped desperately that he would be done soon.

  He wasn’t. He just kept going on and on, using her like a captive animal and occasionally slapping her ass hard with one hand or another. On one of the few occasions that she dared to open her eyes, Giancarla saw other men, dark-skinned and grinning, standing just outside of her cage, watching her humiliation. Finally, she could endure no more in silence. She began to cry and wail in utter misery as her attacker just kept fucking her, like he was a machine. It just seemed to go on and on.

  Then he pulled out of her and slapped her ass again, hard enough to make her shriek. He grabbed a fistful of her long, dark hair and hauled her up on her knees, making her turn so that she was in profile to the men standing at the door. She saw his cock, big and red and glistening wetly, inches from her nose and she tried to pull back from it. That only earned her a tremendous slap across her face, hard enough to stun her. Her head rang, and her vision blurred. The next thing she knew, he’d shoved his cock into her mouth and began thrusting. Still dazed, she had no strength to stop him, even when he seemed to fill her throat so that she couldn’t breathe.

  Then he came. Giancarla coughed and gagged. Semen and saliva dribbled out of the corners of her mouth to mix with the tears coursing down her cheeks. He held her still until he had emptied himself, groaning. Then he pulled out with a satisfied sigh. Giancarla coughed and gasped and wheezed for air, her mouth sagging open. She could hear the men outside laughing uproariously and for the first time dreaded what might happen once her ‘trainer’ left.

  “What is this?” her trainer demanded. Giancarla had to struggle to focus to see where his finger was pointing.

  “It’s…” she gasped and coughed again. “It’s your mouth, sir,” she managed to say.

  “Too bloody right,” he nodded cheerfully. Giancarla flinched as she thought he was going to slap her again, but all he did was pat her cheek. “Your body is mine, to do whatever I want with. You’re a slave now, little Gia, and I’m going to train you to give pleasure. You’ve got a gorgeous body, but you don’t know how to use it properly yet. I’m going to teach you. Would you like that, you faithless little bitch?”

  “Yes…” Giancarla had a coughing fit. The salty taste of his come seemed to be burning the back of her throat. She recovered herself with an effort. “Yes, sir,” she said, looking up at him fearfully.

  “Do you really mean that, Gia?” he smiled down at her.

  “Yes…” It came out as a heartbroken sob. She didn’t really mean it, but she dreaded what would follow if she told him the truth.

  “It don’t matter what you’d like or not like any more, bitch,” he snarled. Then he slapped her. “That’s for lying to me. And beca
use you lied to me, I’m going to let these other men use you like the slut you are.”

  “No!” Giancarla wailed. “Please, no, sir! I’ll do whatever you want!”

  “I want you to let these men fuck you,” her trainer smiled nastily. He let go of her hair, shoving her over onto her back as if that was a signal, the men outside came swarming in to the cage, laughing and chattering. Giancarla tried to move away from them, but in an instant their hands were all over her, holding her down, prying her legs apart, and mauling her breasts with their hands and their mouths. She looked up at her ‘trainer’ for help and realized that she wasn’t going to get any. He was just standing by the doorway, leaning against the wall, his arms folded and a nasty smile on his mouth. She felt fingers being thrust up into her pussy and screamed. That just seemed to strike her gang of assailants as funny. They laughed and continued their assault. She tried to fight, but she was too weak, and anyway there were three of them. Panic struck her. She screamed again and again and then one of the dark-skinned men mounted her while the other two held her down. His leering face was inches from hers, and his breath smelled of tobacco and liquor. Giancarla screamed again as she felt his cock sliding into her. His companions seized her ankles and spread her legs wider for him. He started fucking her, vigorously, grinning like a maniac.

  She was still a little wet from before, but not wet enough, and it hurt. She wanted to throw him off of her, but all she could do was scream up at the ceiling or try to relax so that it didn’t hurt so much. Screaming hadn’t helped at all, so Giancarla tried relaxing, laying limp and unresponsive as she was fucked, her eyes closed. She couldn’t help whimpering and moaning – in pain, not in arousal – as her body was brutally used.

  It was over quickly. Her attacker spasmed and groaned and spasmed and groaned and then lay still on top of her while his companions cheered. Then he was off of her, taking hold of her ankle as the next man took his turn. Once again, Giancarla smelled tobacco and liquor. This man’s body felt heavier, and unpleasantly greasy. He also took longer than the first man to come, and he laid on top of her for longer afterwards, until it sounded like the third man started to complain. Then his weight was gone, to be replaced by another weight and another invading cock.

  A little while later, the three men were done with her. They filed out of the little cell, laughing and chattering happily. Giancarla didn’t recognize a word they said. She didn’t care. She curled up in a sobbing ball of misery on the rough reed mat.

  “Now you understand the penalty for lying to me,” her trainer said as the cell door clanged shut. “I’ll leave you alone for a little while to think about that.”

  A little while? Giancarla lay on the mat, coughing and sniffling and trying to fight an urge to vomit. After a little while her pain settled down to a dull ache and she realized how exhausted she felt. She was just starting to drift off to a fitful sleep when a woman’s scream from somewhere nearby brought her as fully awake as if she’d been doused with ice water. Another scream and she scrabbled back against the cold wall of her cell, shaking uncontrollably. She could hear men’s voices, gabbling in that unfamiliar language, and another man’s voice, deep and almost guttural, barking out… what? Commands? Taunts? Threats? She thought that he was speaking Japanese, but only because he sounded a lot like the characters in some old Japanese movies she had watched with Nicholas. She couldn’t make out any words, though. From the woman’s screams and wails she could easily imagine what they were doing to her, and she shuddered. The urge to vomit returned, and she fought it back desperately. Even so, her stomach churned and heaved, and she could taste her own bile.

  After a while, the woman stopped screaming, but the hopeless cries of misery that replaced the screams were somehow worse. The wall was chilly against Giancarla’s back and, since the reed mat didn’t cover everything, the hard stone floor was even chillier against her bare ass, but she stayed huddled in the corner. Her ‘trainer’ had said that he’d leave her alone for a little while. That meant that he would be coming back, and she dreaded what would happen then. She had told him what she’d thought that he wanted to hear, even though he would certainly know that she was lying. He had punished her for that. But what would have happened if she’d told him the truth? She listened to the unknown woman in the other cell, keening and crying nearby, and felt utter despair creeping over her. She wanted to be out of this terrible place, even if she had to die to escape it. She had been clinging to the hope that Nicholas had sent her here to teach her a lesson. That hope withered and died as she realized that he had washed his hands of her completely, and had sent her here to be lost and forgotten forever.

  The door to her cell clanged open, startling her awake. She looked up fearfully through her tangled hair and saw that her trainer had returned, and he was still smiling.

  “Get up, you lazy bitch,” he ordered. “Stand up!”

  Whimpering and trembling, Giancarla worked herself to her feet, sliding up along the cold, hard wall. She couldn’t bring herself to break contact with it for some reason.

  “You look a right mess,” her trainer observed. He beckoned her with a finger. “Come on, Gia,” he said in that mild voice that was somehow more frightening than when he yelled at her. “Your day’s not over yet.”

  Her heart sank. She imagined all of the things they could still do to her, but as much as that fear prompted her to stay pressed against the cold stone wall, her fear of that man was even greater. She took a first unsteady step away from the wall and almost toppled over. Her shoulder bumped up against the other wall, steadying her. Her head felt light, her legs weak and unsteady. She inched her way towards him, leaning up against the wall until she came close enough for him to reach out and grab her by her hair. She winced at the pain, but didn’t cry out. She let him lead her out of her cell to some new and unknown horror.

  Chapter Six

  She didn’t know where they were going, or why they were going there, but Giancarla didn’t dare ask. She was miserable, she was hurting, and her stomach was still unsettled. If her trainer was taking her somewhere to add to all those woes maybe it would just make it easier for her to curl up and die. She almost hoped that it was so. She felt reduced to the status of an animal… maybe even less than that. She was a thing to be beaten and used, and she hated it. But she also seemed to be completely trapped here, wherever ‘here’ was. She didn’t know for sure, but it felt somehow as if she was on the far side of the world.

  Her trainer led her along a series of corridors cut through the rock and into a large chamber. There were several other naked women already there, standing in a line. All of them had their hands tied behind their backs. All of them also had collars buckled around their necks. Chains ran up from those collars to brackets set in the roof overhead. Opposite the women, sitting comfortably in chairs, were two men. They looked Caucasian, and were dressed in jeans, work shirts and boots. On a table between them sat a pair of expensive-looking video cameras. The men were smoking cigarettes and observing the half-dozen naked women.

  Giancarla risked a look at those women herself as her trainer buckled a collar around her neck. None of them looked Caucasian at all. Most of them looked Japanese, Chinese, or Korean. Giancarla could never tell them apart. One seemed to be East Indian. She was a tall young woman with long, slim legs and long black hair. The last woman was black, but with finely-chiseled features. Was there a chance that she was an American too? Then Giancarla’s trainer ended her speculations with a hard slap to her ass.

  “Let’s get started with this one here,” he said to the two seated men. They both stood up, dropping their unfinished cigarettes on the bare stone floor and crushing them out under their boots. They hefted their video cameras and approached. Giancarla would have shrunk back away from them, but the collar kept her more or less in place, unless she wanted to choke herself. One of them aimed his camera at her and switched it on while the other went around behind her.

  “I know you look a fright, Gia,
but this is your ‘before’ shoot,” her trainer said to her. He ruffled her hair as he might ruffle a dog’s head before brushing it back off of her face.

  “Number A-644,” he said to the cameraman, who zoomed in on Giancarla’s tear-streaked face. “American, age 24. Already examined and found in perfect health. Height five-foot four…ah, that’s 162 centimeters. Weight, one hundred and twelve pounds, or just shy of 51 kilograms. No tattoos, no piercings. Name, Gia. Say hello to the camera, Gia.”

  “Hello,” Giancarla said in a tiny voice.

  “She’s just come from her initiation, so she’s a bit of a mess,” her trainer went on. “But I’d just like to point out some of her more appealing features. For example, these,” he cupped her breasts with his hands and jiggled them, “are absolutely real. I’m sure that Gia is quite proud of them. Am I right, bitch?”

  “Yes, sir,” Giancarla whimpered. She had hated being called Gia for as far back as she could remember, but she didn’t dare complain about it now.

  “Nice nipples, too,” her trainer went on, rubbing his thumbs across them until they were partly erect. “Give us a close-up of them.”

  The cameraman leaned in, getting a closer shot of her dark, swelling nipples. Giancarla wanted to scream and fight. She didn’t dare.

  “Next, notice her nicely-rounded figure,” her trainer went on. The cameraman stepped back and panned up and down Giancarla’s naked torso. “Well-defined waist, tight belly,” he patted it familiarly, “and good, solid hips. It’s enough to make any man think about fucking her good and hard. Now, we go a bit lower… stand with your feet together for a bit, Gia,” he said.

  Sniffling, she obeyed, wondering what that was all about.

  “Zoom in there, boyo,” her trainer told the cameraman, who promptly knelt down and zoomed in on Giancarla’s now-hairless pussy. “Notice how, even with her standing like this there’s a sweet little gap here between her upper thighs. We always look for this in the females who come here. It means that she’s easily aroused, and almost always hot for sex. She’ll make a superb love slave for some lucky man. Get a good shot, there.”