by Paul Blades
She had been curt and brusque with Sharon, telling her to retrieve her dinner bowl or ordering her to turn around so her rear and cunt could be attended to. This morning, after wiping the twin openings and applying a soothing lotion there, the old lady's hand remained stroking Sharon's pussy. Sharon was bent over, her head on the mat that served as a floor to the cage, her legs spread. She knew not to display any resistance to the old lady, who seemed more than twice her size – and she always carried the cattle prod, or had quick access to it.
The hand gently petted the twin lips surrounding her love channel and she felt fingers lightly playing with the little nub at the top. Against her own will, Sharon's pussy began to lubricate. As it did, the woman inserted her fingers deep inside, probing, rubbing against the top and walls of the vagina. Sharon let out a little squeak as feelings of mortification and shame overcame her. Was this why she was being held? Would the sexual abuse get more demanding until she became the old couple's sexual plaything?
Sharon could not help but notice the presence of five other cages. She could only wonder at the elaborate hideaway. Something darker than mere sexual abuse awaited her. She felt it, knew it, but couldn't believe it.
The woman pulled her hand from Sharon's cunt just at the moment when Sharon issued an involuntary moan of sexual excitement. The old lady slapped her ass hard and demanded she turn around. She was pulled from the cage by her hair, the first time she had been out of it since she arrived, and dragged onto the floor. The old lady pushed Sharon down on her back and fastened a rope around each ankle, spreading them apart, and tying them off on some rings in the floor, then she pulled up her skirts, and with a practiced effort, removed her large, white, cotton panties. She lowered herself until she was kneeling with Sharon's torso between her knees. The old lady leaned over until her face was inches from Sharon's.
"Have you ever sucked a cunt, dearie?" she hissed, her stale breath pouring over Sharon's face. Sharon shook her head fearfully. She never had and never wanted to. She had let her boyfriend do it, once.
"Well, you're going to do it now. And you're going to lick it and suck on my clit until I come all over your face! You better be good, girlie, or I'll stick the wand up your cunt and pull the trigger!"
Sharon mewed piteously, but nodded her head in affirmation. The old woman swung her legs around so that she was facing Sharon's feet, placed her knees on either side of Sharon's neck and slowly lowered her dark, bushy cunt on Sharon's face. Sharon felt its wetness smear across her nose and over her lips. The woman pressed down hard, her skirt bunched around her waist. "Suck it, you no good slut!" she yelled. "Suck my cunt!"
Sharon tentatively stuck her tongue into the steaming hot morass that covered her face. She tasted the pungent secretions that had already begun to flow. Slowly, with disgust and revulsion, she moved her tongue back and forth.
Louise felt the tentative probe of her hole by the girl. She was impatient and leaned forward slightly. She always kept a small quirt on the belt to her dress when she came to visit the prisoners. She pulled it out now and came down with it hard at the apex of Sharon's thighs.
"Aieeeee!" Sharon cried out, her voice muffled by the female flesh pressed onto her face. Louise struck it again.
"Aieeeee!" Sharon screamed again. Her legs strained at their bindings in an effort to cover up her vulnerable sex.
"Get licking you lazy bitch, or I'll give you ten more of these!" Louise yelled.
Sharon began licking the messy cunt with alacrity. Tears flowed down her face as she could still feel the sting of the lashes that bit down on her tender love lips. Louise, satisfied now with the efforts of the captive, began to moan and sigh as she rocked her hips on Sharon's mouth. She pressed the tip of her cunt into Sharon's oral cavity. "Suck on my clit, you whore, suck on it!" she commanded.
The frightened girl sucked hard on the stiff nub of flesh. Louise moaned loudly as she pressed it harder against Sharon's mouth. She eyed the jewel between Sharon's widespread legs. She was no lesbian, she told herself, but she had developed a taste for pussy over the years, young, fresh pussy. She leaned over and, spreading her own legs wider, took possession of Sharon's sex with her lips. Sharon jolted with surprise as she felt the hot lips enflame her clit. She futilely tried to close her legs, to prevent this abuse of her private place, but her ankles had been tied firmly apart and her struggles only enflamed Louise more.
Sharon's entire head was covered with Louise's dress, blocking out almost all light, like a shroud. She was glad she couldn't see, glad she could forgo almost all visual stimuli during this humiliating assault. She felt Louise's tongue probe between her now engorged lips and moaned into the cunt covering her face. Louise spread the girl's lower lips wider apart with her hands and licked the musky organ its entire length. Sharon felt the rough tongue of the woman tormenting her sex and moaned again, all the while feverishly seeking to drive the older woman to her pinnacle of pleasure. Juice flowed down her face from the oozing cunt. Louise was rubbing it harder and harder against her lips. Sharon could feel her own blood stirring, a wave of pleasure about to burst over her. She didn't want it, but she couldn't stop it. When she heard Louise issue a long, deep groan and press her thighs tightly against her cheeks, Sharon at last gave in to the relentless lips and tongue between her thighs and cried out, bucking her hips, clenching her fists, straining at the chains that bound her hands and the ropes binding her legs.
When the waves of pleasure subsided, Louise rose from the girl's prone body. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and looked down at the abject captive, eyes jammed tight, tears streaming from the corners.
"That was okay for a first try," she told the still prone girl. "Next time you'll do better, or you'll get a red hot zap. Got it?"
Sharon didn't dare speak. She nodded in affirmation, her lips pursed and trembling, streaks of tears on her face.
Louise knelt and untied the girl's ankles. Grabbing her hair, she dragged her back to the cage and ordered her in. Sharon whined and moaned as she was manhandled by the powerful woman. When she reached the cage she crawled in without hesitation. She hated being confined in the cage, but it did offer a degree of protection from the woman's assaults. The door was closed behind her and a lock affixed, securing it.
Louise had wadded her panties and she jammed them into the pocket of her dress. She took a long look at the pretty captive. In a few weeks she would be wearing a master's collar somewhere. She might be purchased by a private collector, or she might be bought by the owners of a cathouse somewhere in the Far East or in Africa, where white flesh was rare and treasured. Whatever her ultimate destination, she represented a substantial payday for Louise and Herman. She was pretty, frail and obedient. She would make a good slave.
When Herman descended the stairs that evening, Sharon was prepared for more abuse. She preferred sucking the old man's cock to servicing Louise. Herman was quick, no nonsense. The quicker she could get him off the better.
As was his wont, Herman stepped up to the cage and opened the little window. Sharon presented her head and he affixed the ring at the back of the collar to the top bar. Wordlessly, he presented his soft penis to the unhappy girl's mouth. The girl knew just what was required. She took the bulbous head in her mouth and started worrying it with her tongue. She had done this quite a few times for Artie, her boyfriend. According to Artie, she had gotten quite good at it. She actually liked the taste of cock and didn't mind pleasuring Artie's hard wand. He was clean, good looking and appreciative – and it was better than giving in to his insistence they fuck. She knew if she held out that prize, Artie might just propose. It wasn't that she was still a virgin, it was just that two of her former boyfriends had stopped seeing her soon after their conquest of her pussy. She didn't want that happening with Artie.
So Sharon knew how to enflame the old man's lust. She pulled at the cock with her lips, sucking in her breath. She could feel it rising in her mouth and at that signal, she began to bob her head backward and for
ward.
Herman appreciated the girl's businesslike attitude. He had the prod pushed into her side in case she tried anything funny. He placed his other hand on the top of the cage to steady himself.
As the girl rubbed her lips down the length of his piece, Herman felt a quiver of pleasure flow through him. It was an energetic, well trained mouth that encircled his dick. Maybe he would have her suck off the buyer before serious negotiations began. A girl with good sucking skills was a fine asset.
It wasn't long before Herman felt his juices flowing. He began to counterthrust against the girl's efforts. His dick struck the back of her throat several times, making her gag. When his cock exploded, it filled her small mouth with his white, sticky jism. She had been warned about swallowing it and every drop went down her throat. Herman grunted loudly as the pleasure overcame him. He waited until the throbbing had stopped before pulling his cock free from the girl's mouth. "Now, that took off the edge," he thought. Herman's policy was to try to always have at least one girl in the 'hole'. Other than pulling his own meat, it was the only sexual pleasure he got.
Herman pulled his now flaccid cock back into his pants and zipped up. The girl had moved to the back of the cage, her eyes locked on the form of her tormentor. Herman smiled at her. "Good job, cunt," he said as he closed and locked the small window. Turning from her, he crawled up the wooden ladder, unlocked the heavy wooden door and pulled himself up and out of the dungeon. The girl shuddered as the trapdoor slammed shut behind him.
* * *
CHAPTER TWO
Maddy's Public Issues seminar let out at 8:30 every Tuesday and Thursday night. It was a long drive back to her apartment in Carlton. The Interstate took her about half way, but the rest of the drive was along a long curvy two-lane blacktop. She had made the drive many times. It was lonely and tiring, but her Ipod kept her entertained and it seemed to make the miles go quicker.
The stretch between Hadleysville and Newton was the worst. There were almost no stores on the road and those that were there closed at 8 P.M. or earlier. An occasional streetlight marked the few crossroads. Otherwise, the road was dark and barren.
She was about halfway through the Hadleysville-Newton stretch when her car started to shudder and cough. Her Escort had been recently tuned up and she was perplexed and annoyed at the apparent problem. Suddenly, the engine cut off and Maddy coasted the car onto the small shoulder on her right. "Shit!" she spat out. "God dammit!" What could be worse than breaking down in the middle of nowhere late at night? Maddy ran the little she knew about cars through her head. She wasn't out of gas – she had a little over a quarter of a tank. Maybe the fuel line had clogged?
She had broken up with her boyfriend, Harold, a couple of weeks ago and she didn't feel right about calling him for help. Her dad lived about an hour's drive away. A couple of her girl friends lived closer, but even if she got picked up, she would have to leave the car there, abandoned on the side of the road. Tomorrow she would have to deal with getting her car towed or fixed. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" she thought.
The young girl saw the headlights of an approaching car in her rearview mirror. She held off dialing her cell phone for help until it had passed by. Maybe it's a cop or something. If so, she could find out where there was a local gas station open and maybe get it towed there. She had Triple A, but when she had called them in the past, it had taken hours to get towed. A local connection would be better.
It wasn't a cop car who approached behind her. The vehicle slowed down as it came near and stopped opposite her car window. It was a van, looming behind her somewhat ominously. Maddy was about to lock the doors when the interior light in the van went on. It was a middle aged white woman. She was pleasantly dressed and had a kindly face. The woman lowered her passenger side window.
Seeing that the woman wanted to talk to her and hoping she might be able to give her some helpful information, Maddy lowered the driver's window to her own car.
"What's the matter, honey," the older woman called out. Her voice was friendly, good natured. Maddy let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh, this old heap just gave out," she replied.
"Where you headin'?" the woman asked.
"Home," Maddy replied. The woman looked okay, but you never could tell. Maddy didn't want her to know how far from home she really was. She didn't know why, but she just had a feeling.
"You got Triple A?" the woman called over.
"Yeah, but…"
"Yeah," the woman interjected, "I know. They take ages. If you're lookin' for a tow, I got a cousin owns a small station about three miles up Route 416. He's closed now, but I could probably get him to come out and get you. He might be able to start your car for you."
Maddy weighed the woman's offer. If she agreed, and the cousin could help her out, she wouldn't have to call anyone. She wouldn't have to come back tomorrow, and she wouldn't have to sit here on the side of this deserted road, a target for any kind of maniac who happened by. The young girl looked over the older woman carefully. All she could see was the woman's expectant smile, a friendly appearance. Oh, what the fuck, she thought.
"Yeah, thanks a lot. That would be a big help," she called out to the woman.
The woman waved at Maddy. "Come on, get in, we'll zip over to my cousin's. We'll get you back on your way home in no time."
Maddy was always being delightfully surprised at the friendliness of people in the South. She had moved here with her dad about four years ago from a Cleveland suburb. Once she graduated high school three years ago, she decided to get her own place and try to make it on her own. Her dad wasn't rich and he had only moved here because all the good jobs seemed to be moving south. She liked the South, the weather was usually nice, the people were friendly and the pace of life just seemed a little slower. This woman's readiness to go out of her way was just another example of why she liked living here.
After rolling up her window, Maddy stepped out of her car and locked the door. She opened the passenger door of the van and stepped in. The driver had turned off the over heads and the rear of the van was dark. Maddy shifted a little uneasily in her chair. She turned to her rescuer. "My name's Maddy," she said.
"I know," the woman answered.
Maddy had just enough time to say "Wha…", when a strong, rough arm circled around her throat. Her air was cut off immediately. Her eyes widened as the woman lay a length of duct tape over her mouth. Maddy flailed her arms at her attacker. Suddenly she received a punch to her midsection. The woman had given her a solid left hook. Maddy's body was immobilized by the blow. She desperately tried to draw in breath, but the arm around her throat blocked all oxygen. Maddy thought she was being murdered and, as she floated into unconsciousness, she wondered why.
Herman quickly dragged the limp girl into the back of the van. Louise, after helping Herman to lift her legs over the divider between the front seats, pressed on the gas. The van pulled over to the side of the road in front of Maddy's car. By the time the van had stopped, Herman had wrist and ankle restraints on the girl. She was coming around and he pulled at her arms locked behind her back.
"Give me her keys," Herman rasped.
Louise felt along the passenger side floor and found them and Maddy's small tote bag that doubled as her pocketbook. She handed them to Herman. He opened the side door of the van, hopped out and opened the door to the Escort. He popped the hood, tossing the tote bag and keys into the back seat of the car. He rushed around to the front, leaned over into the engine compartment and detached a small device he had earlier attached to the gas line.
Having retrieved his little radio operated toy, Herman slammed the hood lid down. He shut the door after relocking it, then jumped back into the van. Louise sped off.
Maddy was still groggy, but was returning to consciousness. When the van started to move, she felt her body rolled to the side and dropped into a long, narrow compartment. Straps were tied around her legs, waist and chest. The lid to the compartment closed. Maddy was effectively shut
off from the world.
"What was with the 'I know' bullshit?" Herman accosted Louise as he climbed into the passenger seat.
"Waddya mean?" she said back.
"You know what I mean!" Herman argued loudly. "She said her name and you said 'I know'. Was that some kind of joke?"
"Oh, don't get your shorts all bunched up Herman, what's the difference?"
"The difference is you're not supposed to say anything more than you have to. Suppose I had to duck down because a car was coming. There'd you be sitting with your thumb up your ass trying to explain to the fucking cunt how you knew her fucking name!" Herman was as close to boiling point as he could get without actually crossing the line.
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Herman, chill out. I saw you making your move. I wanted to distract her, to surprise her."
"Just don't do it again, okay? I don't like it."
Louise went through a quick catalogue of things she didn't like about Herman but kept her mouth shut. It wasn't worth it. Let the old goat steam.
For the next five hours, Herman and Louise exchanged nary a word. Herman had turned on the radio which played a country western station. The rhythm of the road was soothing, and by the time they got back to the house, they had both calmed down. It was a good thing, because there was more work to do.
Louise pulled the van up to the barn and shut off the lights. Long existing protocol was to wait in the darkness for a few minutes to make sure no one had followed them. If someone had, there was no sense being caught carrying a protesting girl into the barn or standing there with the trap door open while police headlights shone on you. If a cop car pulled in, maybe they could talk their way out of it, or maybe Herman would have time to pull out the pump action shotgun. Fake passports and plane tickets were always kept handy when they went out on a job.