by Jessica Rael
Despite the act Lauren was definitely a woman. She had a voluptuous figure, bordering on plump, Amber thought, and when she pretended Amber was her big sister, well, that was just funny. The games Lauren played weren’t what you’d normally expect your little sister to be getting up to with her Barbie collection either, but that just made Amber laugh, and sometimes she even wondered what it would be like, pretending to be a kid again and making other women be dolls and stuff. Perhaps she’d take her little sister on the offer of a sleepover one night; after all, the woman had given Amber the biggest break in her whole life, and she knew when to be grateful.
Rebecca knocked on Lauren’s door while the small birthday welcome group loitered in the hallway. A few seconds later the woman opened it, grasping her aunt around the shoulders and giving her a big hug, and Rebecca smiled in a genuinely fond way. Family was important to the Cruza. Everyone knew Lauren had sidestepped her responsibilities, and that wasn’t the Cruza way, but most admired her for not bending to the pressure to conform, even if they did think she was a little flaky. The Inquisitor took a pragmatic approach; if her niece didn’t have what it took she didn’t have what it took, it was as simple as that. So steps had been taken to ensure a successor, problem solved.
‘Happy birthday, honey,’ Rebecca said. ‘A big twenty-six today, huh?’ The plump brunette nodded, ushering her aunty and Amber into her bedroom. The chef had already been informed to politely drop the twenty, leaving just six candles on the cake.
Amber smiled and wished Lauren a happy birthday, then hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. The two had become genuinely fond of each other, and though Amber wasn’t very good at playing down her precocious nature she was still a teenager, and Lauren liked that. She also liked the way Amber talked. She like the slang and made Amber promise to teach her. The twenty-six-year-old had a strange ability to draw people into her weird world. There were plenty of her family’s genes operating behind that childlike grin, and now Amber really was the big sister because that’s the way Lauren wanted it, and if Lauren wanted things a certain way then that’s how they usually turned out. And Amber could fit the bill, all grown up and working with serious hard cases like Dakota, but young enough to be cool, too.
‘You know I have to go out for a while today, don’t you, honey?’ Rebecca said, and Lauren just smiled and nodded. ‘But I’ll be back later so we can do something fun for your birthday, okay?’
‘Is Amber staying?’ Lauren asked.
‘Of course, sweetie, Amber lives with us now, remember? She’s family.’ Rebecca motioned to Megan, standing dutifully in the hallway, who turned to her left and clicked her fingers.
‘I got you a very special present, Lauren,’ Rebecca added, moving aside as two women carried in a huge box wrapped in pink paper and decorated with pink ribbons and bows. ‘Something you’re always telling me you want.’
‘No way!’ squealed the birthday girl. ‘Not a real doll! You’re kidding me, right?’
‘Open it and see.’
Lauren tore away the ribbons in an excited frenzy, and then ripped off the paper. She pulled the lid from the large box. Amber leaned over so she could get a look; she’d never actually owned a doll.
Inside the box lay a pretty young woman in her early twenties, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and held in place with a red ribbon. She was quite naked and wearing pink ankle and wrist restraints decorated with little sparkly red hearts. In her pretty mouth was a pink rubber gag. Her finger and toenails were painted a delicate shade of rose, and she wore a pink collar with the words I Belong to Lauren in shiny silver lettering.
Amber smiled as she watched the surreal scene, beginning to like her new life. She looked at the new toy. Only the terrified look in the girl’s stunning blue eyes broke the illusion, but Lauren didn’t appear to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care. Either way it was a cool present, and it looked way more fun than a six-inch piece of androgynous plastic. At least this one had a real cunt.
Fun and Games
Lauren ground her large ass down onto the sobbing girl’s face, whipping the helpless toy. It looked a little more disheveled than when she’d gotten it that morning, but it was still cute. Lauren loved her Aunt Becky, she always got her such neat stuff, but this was definitely the coolest. She’d wanted a real live doll for so long she’d had plenty of time to think what she was going to do with it.
‘Don’t know what plans you had for your life fun-toy, but you can forget them,’ she beamed. ‘You’re my property now, and you know what that means, don’t you?’ She smiled wickedly. She delighted in telling her slaves how they would spend the rest of their miserable lives. She loved to see the fear in their eyes and hear their pathetic sobbing; it made her feel like a goddess. A real one though, not some glamorous movie star. A real goddess, with the power of life and death, pain and relief, all in her little hands.
As if to check, Laura gazed admiringly at the pink glitter-polish on her perfectly manicured nails. ‘You’re the cutest toy I ever had, and you’re gonna be licking some part of my body practically every minute and every day.’ She paused for a moment, knowing there was something she’d forgotten. ‘Well… unless I hurt you bad, then you’ll be in the medical bay till you get better, I guess. Anyway, you’re my best toy now, and I’ll never stop playing with you. And toys don’t get rest or anything. You’ll even be doing gross stuff all night.’ She giggled, her large breasts jiggling.
She let loose a well-aimed blow with the crop that hit the slave directly between the legs. She squealed with delight as she felt her plaything jerk in pain and then frantically wriggle and squirm its tongue deep into her ass. Lauren had masturbated about making a real live doll do this since she had first told Aunt Becky that she wanted one, and now she actually had it, and it was helpless and couldn’t say no to anything she wanted… and she wanted lots and lots of things.
Stephanie tried to concentrate as she squirmed under the woman’s suffocating ass cheeks, desperately trying to force her tongue deeper into her tormentor’s anus, just to avoid the evil sting of the crop as it lashed at her exposed breasts and sex. The slave’s pitiful screams and begging moans were muffled by Lauren’s ample buttocks as the sadistic, childlike woman bounced happily on her face. Every now and again Lauren would lift her sweaty ass off the pathetic creature’s mouth just long enough to listen to the funny toy beg for mercy, pleading for her sanity and some release from the degradation and pain. Lauren would laugh hysterically; she loved it when the toy begged her like that, it was totally cool. She would then drop her ass back onto the sobbing face and resume whipping the slave’s exposed vagina, feeling the tickly feeling in her tummy as the tongue probed deep into her ass once more.
That night Lauren attached the special butt harness to her plaything’s head, carefully explaining what it was for. She reveled in the despairing look in the girl’s eyes as the young blonde thought about the degradation to come. Lauren giggled as she tightened the straps around the toy’s head, then while her victim kneeled, bound and naked before her, she slipped on the goddess harness that was designed to attach to its counterpart. It fitted snugly around her waist and thighs. Then she grabbed the whimpering slut by the hair and dragged her onto the bed, with it’s pretty pink quilt and sheets. She then threw the covers over the toy’s quivering, naked, bound body, and climbed in herself, smirking at the delights that awaited her and the torment that awaited her property.
Once under the covers Lauren slid her stout thighs either side of the wretched slave’s head and positioned her ass in front of her whimpering face. Then with cruel, deliberate slowness the twenty-six-year-old clipped the toy’s face harness to the one she wore round her own waist and thighs. She grabbed the side straps and gave them a strong tug. The toy’s face was pulled deep into her ass crack, so deep that her mouth was pressed firmly against her owner’s anus. Lauren gave one last pull on the straps until it felt like the
slave’s head would disappear into her ass completely, and how she wished she could do that. She giggled, and then orgasmed just thinking about how totally cool that would be.
Stephanie could barely breathe, the woman’s fleshy buttocks smothering her face. The private world that existed in the deep valley between the woman’s cheeks was now her whole world, everything she could smell, and hear, and taste. The petrified girl obediently began to worm her tongue deep inside the anal passage pressed hard against her lips, and she could hear the sadistic voice, muffled by the strong thighs that gripped her head.
‘Listen toy,’ the psychotic woman said, ‘if I wake up, even for one second, and find you’re not licking my beautiful ass you’ll be sorry. Got it, loser?’
As Stephanie continued probing the maniac’s anus she thought how few people would ever understand just what total servitude was, spending nine hours licking a sleeping woman’s ass just because it pleased her to have you do it, even though she would be unaware of almost all the degrading attention being lavished on her. It was unbelievable decadence at the expense of the unfortunate victim, but then the slave had now seen enough to know that the Cruza didn’t consider their property human, or even animal. They were just expensive sex toys, nothing more.
The Black-Glass Bar
To Sabrina the whole thing was becoming a massive headache. The club offered her prestige, sure. And there was no doubting she enjoyed the functions; who wouldn’t? But now the pressure was on. How did you go about finding new ways to amuse a group of pampered, wealthy lesbians with a taste for the sadistic every month? The girl would do fine for a few days, of course. Sabrina watched with mild interest as the young woman began to stir, but the risks were getting too high. Perhaps it was time to make a strategic alliance, she idly thought.
Shelly awoke from the drug-induced slumber to find she could not move. Full consciousness returned slowly and in fragments. The twenty-two-year-old sociology student found herself naked and arched backwards, when what seemed like only moments ago she was enjoying a quiet drink in a lively bar. The girl opened her eyes but found she couldn’t quite focus yet. She was on a bench of some kind, and it was lower at the head end, rising towards the end where her feet were. Then she realized her legs were raised in the air, and tied. She struggled for a few seconds, tugging at the restraints. Her hands were also tied, but down, folded under the bench and somehow attached to the underside.
Panic rose in her drug-slurred brain and she began to pull again at her bonds, but she was held tight. As the fog in her head began to clear she realized she was totally naked and spread out, like an insect in biology class. She was naked and she couldn’t close her legs. She could never remember feeling so vulnerable.
Then her vision cleared a little. There were women in the room with her. Quite a few women. And there… there was the woman who had bought her a drink in the bar, the attractive dark-haired woman who had shown such an interest in her family – or lack of one. The terrified girl tried to call out, but her voice was just slurred nonsense. She heard the women laugh.
‘Shout all you want, slut,’ said a woman to Shelly’s right. ‘The only ones who’ll hear you down here will be us, and we want you to make all the noise you can. Don’t we, girls?’ There was the sound of more female laughter from all around the frightened student, and a hand tousled her hair like she was a child.
Breakfast in Chains
Rebecca sliced a fresh bagel in two, carefully spreading cream cheese on one half with an engraved silver knife. She bit into it delicately while flipping through a leather-bound report that sat on the table in front of her. The Inquisitor glanced up at the attendees of the twice-weekly breakfast meeting. Dakota was dressed in gray sweat pants and a white T-shirt. She sipped chilled orange juice and waited for Rebecca to speak. McKenna was still in her dark-blue toweling robe, and she didn’t appear to be wearing anything underneath. To McKenna’s left sat Amber, in a baby-blue crop top, denim shorts and pink flip-flops with plastic daisies on the straps. Different worlds, the Inquisitor thought, observing the young woman, but that was why she had chosen her in the first place; tried and tested survival skills, verifiable aptitude for cruelty, and a sharp, streetwise intelligence.
‘Okay,’ she said, dabbing crumbs from her lips, ‘McKenna,’ the woman sat a little more stiffly despite the supposed informality of the meeting, ‘catch up with me in my office after lunch and we’ll run through these renovation costs. Either we get our clients to return our property in a little better state of repair, or we start charging for the clean up. Profit lines are going to slip if we don’t keep an eye on this.’
‘I’ll talk to the head curator and see if we’re running as lean as we can, but short of getting the bitches to hose the cum and lubricants off themselves when we get them back I don’t think we can trim back anymore.’ McKenna drained the last drop of orange juice from her glass, then picked up the empty jug from the table and waved it in the air, attracting the attention of a middle-aged woman watching from a respectful distance.
Juana stood perfectly erect in front of the middle-aged woman in the blue suit and white apron, just as she’d been taught to do. Her wrists and ankles were locked into leather cuffs, and she wore a broad leather belt around her trim waist. A chain linked her wrist cuffs together, and ran through a loop at the front of the belt. She had seen prisoners wear such things on work gangs. The young Latina girl had enough movement to carry a tray and clear away plates, but little else. Her ankle cuffs were also joined with a chain, which allowed her to walk carefully and slowly, but not to run, so she moved in a humiliating shuffle.
The twenty-year-old Mexican was a beautiful example of Latin perfection. Flawless coffee-colored skin, pert breasts, a well proportioned ass, slender legs and shapely ankles. The woman had fitted the girl with a leather collar, which also had a ring at the front, and she’d clipped one end of a gold chain to it and attached the other end to the girl’s clitoris ring, so that it pulled painfully if she stood upright. The woman then forbade Juana from slouching; the girl had to carry herself properly at all times. Which meant walking elegantly with a straight back and head held high. So Juana did so, always aware of the constant pain in her clitoris. Every other day the woman would remove another link from the gold chain, and Juana’s torment would begin afresh.
Juana had been a good student. It wasn’t her fault her school closed in her sixteenth year when it ran out of money. The same way it wasn’t her father’s fault when the factory in the town where he’d worked for fifteen years closed because the American’s found somewhere cheaper to produce their precious things. She had been struggling to keep up, working nights cleaning so she could carry on her education by correspondence. So in a way she was a little excited – as well as more than a little scared – when her father told the family they were going to America.
Even the small children knew the risks; they’d all heard of someone who had tried. Many got sent back but also, and very importantly to the people of her small village, some didn’t.
But desperation breeds courage of a sort, so they packed up as much of their meager belongings as they could carry and took a bus to the border.
After several days in the desert they were already in trouble. They had tried to stay on one of the roads, where walking was easier, but there were police patrols and once a man in a car slowed down and shouted at them, telling them to, ‘Get the fuck back to Mexico!’
That wasn’t so bad, they never exactly expected to be welcomed, but the next day a truck slowed down and the three men in it started shooting guns at her family. Firing into the air and laughing, they then began to shoot at the ground around her father. They all ran, back into the desert and away from the road.
Later that day they met another Mexican family making the crossing. They had already lost a child to thirst and heat exhaustion. Things were bad. Then the jeeps came riding down on them like they were wild animals. H
er father was sure it was the border patrols.
The women took her father and the man of the other family to one side at gunpoint. At first her father shouted, but then he went quiet. Very quiet.
A little while later a white bus bounced down towards them from the nearby road and her family filed silently inside. They did not look back at her, but some of the little ones were now smiling and happy. Even her father had straightened his shoulders a little, and he no longer stared at the ground in despair. Juana had no idea what was happening, and stood under the blazing sun with a girl from the other family, who looked a couple of years older than her. She felt very numb as the bus drove away, and as soon as it disappeared out of sight the women with the jeeps changed.
They grabbed the older girl and tied her hands, laughing that she was the bad catch and not as pretty as Juana. Then they threw her in the jeep. Juana became scared as the women roughly tied her own hands behind her back, but then one of the women slipped a hand inside Juana’s dust-stained blouse and mauled one of her breasts. Juana shouted at the woman and began to swear in Spanish, but the woman just grinned so Juana spat in her face.
While the other girl lay in the back of the jeep, the women had some fun with Juana in the dust, under the glare of the mid-afternoon sun. There were four of them, though one just watched. They stripped her naked, ripping her blouse and tearing her skirt like a pack of wild animals. When she was naked they began molesting her breasts and she felt a hand at her crotch. One of the women shoved two fingers into Juana’s vagina and began to work them in and out, while another kissed her roughly, forcing her tongue into the virgin’s mouth. The third woman forced her finger into Juana’s anus, making her lift her buttocks off the dirt in shock. They laughed even louder and one began to suck her nipples. The onslaught lasted for about twenty minutes perhaps, it was difficult for Juana to tell, and then she was also thrown into the back of the jeep, lying next to the older girl. Juana felt strangely ashamed of her nakedness.