by S. J. Lewis
“Look how eager she was to spread her legs for us,” Ismail said to the watching men. “Truly, she craves for men to use her body. And now look how wantonly she displays herself in front of us, jiggling her breasts to inflame our lusts. Should she be punished for this?” There was an answering cry from the men. They sounded to Ismail much like a pack of hungry wolves.
He was speaking in his own language again. Felicia didn’t know any of the words, but he kept pointing at her with the whip handle, so she knew that he was talking about her. And the horrible sound that the watching men made once he had finished speaking told her that she was going to be raped again, probably by all of them. Tired as she was, that thought gave her a sudden burst of frantic strength that proved to be just as useless as all of her previous efforts. All the head man did was step aside and let her fight herself limp. It didn’t take long before she was hanging by her wrists, gasping and sobbing through her nose. All she had done was turn herself so that she was facing away from the men and bring fresh pains to her arms and legs. Her toes scrabbled on the cement floor to take some of the weight off of her wrists, if only for a little while. She had just succeeded in doing that when the head man seized her by her hips and roughly turned her to face directly towards the men. She shrieked at the sudden fresh agony in her shoulders, the sound almost completely muffled by the obscene gag in her mouth. She felt him press up behind her to keep her in place, and then his hands came up to cup and squeeze her breasts for the benefit of her audience. He was saying something again, punctuating his words with occasional harder squeezes. The watching men seemed to go completely wild, howling and clapping and ululating, though they stayed where they were. She felt consumed with shame to be treated this way, but there was not one damned thing she could do about it. The head man finished his tormenting of her by squeezing her breasts between his thumbs and forefingers to either side of her nipples, making them stand out. She sobbed with relief when he let go of her and stepped away and she could touch the floor with her toes, taking a little bit of the weight off of her arms. That relief was short-lived. He spun her around to face him and once more pressed himself up against her, his hands cupping and squeezing her ass cheeks now. He smiled at her as he said something more to the men and their howls and cries grew even louder.
After a moment, he stopped squeezing but still held her close. “You have been an obedient little whore, “he said to her, his voice low, intimate, and unwelcome. “So I will not whip you.”
Felicia’s initial feeling of relief was almost instantly banished when she realized that this certainly meant that her gang rape was imminent. She looked up at him, her eyes tear-filled, desperately shaking her head ‘no’.
“Ah, so you wish to be whipped anyway?” he chuckled. “Very well. I will not whip you, but Selim will.” He let go of her and quickly stepped away. Felicia was just trying to look around and see where the big eunuch was when the first stinging lash struck across her ass. She jerked and shrieked. Then a second blow fell across the backs of her thighs and she shrieked again.
Ismail always liked to watch Selim at work. The eunuch was completely merciless to any woman put into his power, but he could be completely trusted to carry out his orders to the letter. He was also very skilled with any and all sorts of whips and rods, always striking in such a way as to inflict the maximum amount of pain at the least risk of real injury. Ismail had once given him a captive female just so he could watch Selim work. He had kept the female in agonizing pain for hours and hours until she passed out from sheer exhaustion, and yet two days afterwards she had been well enough to be returned to her husband to serve as a warning to him not to consider treachery against his sheik again.
Now the eunuch caressed the blonde slut’s lovely body again and again with the whip, drawing shrieks and wails from her as she jerked and twisted, desperately trying to avoid the next stinging kiss of the braided leather and failing every time. Ismail could see red lines marking the slut’s body, some of them becoming angry welts, but nowhere did Selim break her soft, soft skin.
A woman can take only so much. Before too long, the slut was hanging limply by her wrists, twitching and crying out weakly whenever Selim struck her afresh, but it was clear that she had no strength left to do anything else. Selim eyed the space between her legs and looked at Ismail inquiringly. Whipping her pussy might spur her to further struggling, but it was still early in her training and it was always wise to hold some punishments in reserve. Ismail shook his head ‘no’ and Selim shrugged and began coiling up the whip. Ismail gestured for him to hand it over instead and pointed up at the slut’s wrists. Selim nodded and complied. All the slut did was keen and sob as she was released from the hook hanging from the ceiling. Selim lowered her part of the way to the floor and then let her drop. She made a sudden tiny noise of pain as she landed hard on the cement, and then just lay there, stretched out, trembling and shaking and crying. Ismail nudged her once with his foot. He got no reaction from her, and indeed she seemed to be in a terrible state. But there was more to be done here.
“Selim,” he said. “Fetch a bucket and throw some cold water on this bitch. We are not done with her yet.”
Felicia shrieked as icy cold water splashed over her naked body. Now a chill was added to her accumulated aches and pains. She spluttered as the last of the bucket was dashed into her face. She tried to move, but her ankles were still bound to the heavy bar that kept them apart and her arms felt too weak to support her at all. Limp, exhausted, her mind dulled with pain, she lay there in the spreading puddle of cold water, unable to do more than weep and shiver.
Ismail let her be for the moment while Selim went to get his next tool. When he returned with it, he nudged the slut with his foot again, in the ribs and not gently.
“Up, you shameless whore,” he ordered. “Up on your hands and knees or I will have Selim resume your whipping!”
The threat stirred her as nothing else would have by then. Selim assisted her, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her upwards. She lacked the strength to do more than whimper at that. Soon she was on her hands and knees, her head hanging low, her wet hair obscuring her face, her long legs spread invitingly. Ismail saw his men all but drooling over her now, and noted approvingly that even in that position the girl’s teats were so firm that they retained their shape. The cold water had also affected her nipples in a most appealing way.
Felicia remained still, except for the shivering that she couldn’t help. The cold water had started it, but she thought that maybe she was going into shock after the brutal whipping she had received. The pain of that was bad enough, but the humiliation she felt at having it all done before an audience was burned into her mind. It left her feeling dirty, even though none of it was her fault. She thought that she was past caring what happened next, and then a vibrator was applied to her pussy.
Ismail saw the slut’s head come up abruptly. Her wet hair still covered much of her face, but he could see one eye, wide with surprise and apprehension.
“Remain still, bitch,” he snapped when it looked as if she was about to move. She turned her head just enough to look at him. It was clear that she hadn’t expected this. But she was so fatigued, both physically and mentally now, that she almost certainly wasn’t going to be able to try to do anything about it. As Selim slowly worked the vibrator up and down along her cunt, her head slowly sank lower and lower until he could no longer see her face.
“Is she ready, Selim?” he asked the eunuch.
“Not yet, lord, but she soon will be. We will know for certain when she arches her back.”
“Very well. Continue.” Ismail heard the slut moan once, feebly, and then moan again. Then her back arched, raising her cunt towards the vibrator. He supposed that she was not even aware that she was doing it.
“She is ready now, lord,” Selim announced. He kept the vibrator running.
“Excellent.” Ismail turned towards the waiting men. “Assam,” he said to the rodent like little s
py. He pointed towards the blonde slut. “Take your reward now.”
Felicia started a little when she felt the vibrator being removed and then bony-fingered hands gripping her by her waist. A moment later she grunted as a cock was thrust into her. She heard men yelling and clapping as whoever was behind her began thrusting, quickly and jerkily. The sensation brought her no pleasure at all. In fact, if she felt anything, it was nausea, heavily mixed with shame. At least they had made her wet enough for the rape not to hurt too much… but somehow, to her befuddled mind, it was yet another cause for shame that they had been able to bring her body to arousal even after they had abused her so cruelly. She shut her eyes and moaned, not in pleasure, but in pain and misery. The men heard her and she heard cheers, and what sounded like them cheering on their compatriot. She heard him laugh, a nasty, little snickering laugh, and somehow knew that her rapist was the weaselly little man she had seen when she had first been brought here. Her nausea returned, and she retched. But her stomach was empty, so instead of vomiting into her tightly gagged mouth and suffocating herself, all she did was burn her own mouth and throat with bile. Then she felt her rapist suddenly stop moving, felt his weight leaning heavily on her hips. She heard him groaning, and knew that he had finished. After a moment, he leaned back and slapped her ass before pulling out of her. The men watching cheered him as he returned to their ranks. She caught sight of the feet of someone approaching her quickly and braced herself for her second rape. It was over quickly, but this man was both thicker and longer than the first, and it hurt a little. All through the ordeal, she heard the other men whistling and cheering. Again, she tasted bile. She thought that she had no more tears left, but hearing the loud, exultant cries of the watching men and knowing that they were all eagerly awaiting their turn was enough to bring them to her eyes again. Her tears mixed with the water still dripping from her hair onto the cold, hard cement floor. And it went on.
Chapter Seven
Felicia shuffled along listlessly behind Selim, towed along at the end of the chain locked around her neck. She wasn’t bound. She barely noticed. She had not been the same since that horrible whipping and gang rape. They had left her in a small, dim cell afterwards, with nothing but a thin pallet to lie on. She had slept almost the whole time they had kept her there, waking only to eat a little food or drink a little water.
Sometimes, she would wake to find Neha there with her, carefully washing her, rubbing sweet-smelling ointments on the welts marking her body, combing her hair. On occasion, she woke to find Neha lying on the pallet with her, as naked as she was, simply holding her as she shivered and cried. Neha never said anything to her, and the one time she tried to say something to the lovely young Indian woman Neha had put a finger on her lips to stop her.
Besides being stiff and sore and still in pain from her mistreatment, whipping and rape, she was completely confused about her position in this terrible place. When the sheik had first fucked her in front of his harem, she had thought that he was demonstrating his ownership of her body and that she would become another one of his captive sex toys. That idea had been quite bad enough, but if there was nothing she could do about it, at least for the moment, she thought she could endure it. And then he had given her over to those other men, after having her painfully and thoroughly whipped in front of them. She had feared that she had somehow failed a test and would become a disposable piece of female meat, to be used and abused until she died or went insane. But then she had been allowed to rest and heal…at least physically. They had even provided some care for her, in the form of Neha. She couldn’t figure any of it out, and had finally stopped trying. Now she was being led somewhere by the big eunuch who had whipped her, and she didn’t really care where she was being led to or why. At least she told herself that. Way down deep she still felt a gnawing fear that she was in for more painful experiences. It came as a surprise to her when he took her through a door and into what looked like a small doctor’s office. She could see an elderly man in a white coat, apparently the doctor, a plain-looking nurse in a plain-looking white uniform, cloth-covered tables with medical paraphernalia spread out on them, a gurney and a gynecological exam chair. Selim indicated that she was supposed to get up onto that last item, and she obeyed, even putting her feet into the stirrups without being told to. She didn’t know why she was getting medical care now that her injuries were already healing well, but she didn’t care about that either.
Selim stood behind the exam chair and held her chain leash tightly. The nurse approached with a hypodermic and a smile while the doctor busied himself with other things. Up close, Felicia realized that the nurse was older than she appeared at first, with fine wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. The smile she wore appeared to be entirely professional, with no sympathy or other feeling behind it. It never changed in the least as she swabbed Felicia’s shoulder with alcohol and then jabbed the needle in. With all the other aches and pains that she’d become used to, the injection felt no worse than a mosquito bite. She remained still as the needle was removed and the nurse, still wearing that wooden smile, went away.
Whatever had been in that hypodermic, Felicia soon wished that they’d given her a bit more of it. Her pains started to fade and for the first time since she’d been brought here she felt calm and relaxed. She even found it vaguely amusing when the nurse came back and began securing her ankles with leather straps so that she couldn’t pull her feet out of the stirrups. It was a bit less amusing when her hands were pulled up over her head and secured to the exam chair with more straps. But by the time the nurse was wedging another one of those damned bit gags between her teeth and buckling it in place whatever drugs they had given her had completely kicked in and Felicia almost felt like giggling. Were they worried that she would try to bite somebody? How silly!
The doctor came over and began inspecting the marks on her body. As painful as all those angry welts had been, the whip had never broken Felicia’s skin and the fading red lines were apparently satisfactory to him. She thought of telling him that she had some on her back too and he should probably have a look at them, but then she tried to picture how she could possibly position herself on the exam chair so that he could do that, and she felt that urge to giggle again. What had they given her? She shook her head, trying to clear it, but she seemed to be awfully weak, and her head almost too heavy for her neck to move. She closed her eyes and sighed. This wasn’t anywhere near as bad as whipping and gang rape, and if they were giving her medical care, even as late as this, it meant that she was still somehow valuable to somebody. The thought was not much of a relief, but it was at least something.
“Well, doctor, how is she?”
Felicia’s eyes flew open as she recognized the voice of the sheik. She saw him entering the exam room in his robes, a curved knife in a jeweled scabbard thrust through the sash around his waist, looking every bit the desert bandit chief from some B-movie. The exam chair was positioned so that as he entered he had a perfect view between Felicia’s spread legs. Instinctively, she tried to pull her knees together, but the bindings around her ankles prevented it. The sheik saw her try anyway and smiled at her.
“She is healing well, so far as I can tell so far, sayyid,” the doctor replied. When he used that foreign word, Felicia realized for the first time that the men were speaking in English. “She appears to be a very healthy young woman.” The old doctor cast his eye on Felicia’s naked body, apparently noticing it in its totality for the first time. “And a very attractive one as well.”
“If she was not beautiful, she would not be here,” the sheik said. He came closer, looking into Felicia’s eyes and smiling at the fear and uncertainty he saw in them. Even as drugged as she was, Felicia would have moved away from him if she’d been able.
“I’ve only started my examination, lord,” the doctor continued. “She appears to have been terribly abused, but that is nothing new, is it?”
The sheik laughed harshly. “They must be taug
ht obedience,” he said with a shrug.
The doctor picked up a speculum. “I assume you will want to observe, lord?” he asked.
“Of course,” the sheik nodded.
Felicia twitched and squealed as the cold metal speculum was thrust up into her pussy. The doctor crouched low between her legs and began poking and probing gently with a gloved hand.
“Surprisingly good condition,” he said, almost to himself. “How many men had her, lord?”
“Only six,” the sheik replied. “And they all took her from behind. I think she got some pleasure out of the experience.”
Only six? Felicia’s teeth clamped down on the rubber bit. Only six? And she had gotten no pleasure at all out of any of it.
“It is surprising sometimes how resilient a female body can be. This one is in excellent health, aside from the obvious injuries. She should recover fully.” The doctor opened the speculum a little further and peered more deeply into Felicia. “In fact, I would say that she is fit for further use now, lord, if some care is taken.”
“That is good news,” the sheik smiled. “I would like to resume her training as soon as possible.” He came and stood next to Felicia, regarding her body minutely. He reached out and fondled her breast, making her squirm. She tried to complain, but the bit gag kept her from forming any recognizable words. The sheik ignored her and shifted his attentions to her nipple, slowly rolling it between thumb and forefinger.
“What do you think of these magnificent tits, doctor?” he asked.