Slaver's Dozen (The Klitzman Stories)

by Paul Blades

  “With your permission, Colonel,” Madam Dupre intoned, “I will have this slave made ready. If you wish, I will have her whipped.”

  “Oh, no, madam,” the Asian answered, bowing slightly. “I enjoyed her display of spirit. I will tell the general and he will think of something appropriate.”

  “Very well,” Dupre responded. She made a little brushing motion with her hand. The guard understood and took hold of Karen’s arm with one meaty hand and dragged her to the door. After swiping his card and keying in his code, he opened the door. His strong left hand practically lifted Karen from the ground and he marched her away. She would be taken directly upstairs and delivered to the transport hut. When the proper paperwork was completed, she would be prepared for transport and released to the colonel at his pleasure.

  Dupre clapped her hands. “Ladies, back to your tasks,” she instructed the four remaining, relieved slave girls.

  The colonel cleared his throat. “If I may, Madam Dupre,” he asked.

  “Yes, colonel?” Dupre replied.

  “If I may, I would appreciate the use of the dark eyed one, Mary I think is her name.” He pointed. “Her.”

  Mary had been about to flee the room. She halted at Dupre’s signal.

  “Why, of course,” the tall, slender slave mistress told the man. “Mary,” she said, looking at the unhappy girl, “please go with the colonel.” She turned back to the grinning Asian. “If she disappoints you in any way, colonel, please bring it to my attention and she will be severely punished. You may use room three, down on your left. There are whips and other confinements in the cabinets. Use her any way you wish. That’s what she’s here for.”

  Mary blanched at Madam Dupre’s statement, “That’s what she’s here for.” Well that was it, wasn’t it? She was there to be used anyway anyone wished. But this was the first time anyone had said it so succinctly and so matter of factly. She looked at Col. Huong. A wave of fear swept through her. What would “anything” mean to him?

  Huong made a short bow to Madam Dupre, joining his hands, palms together, just like you see in the movies. Politeness was the way of the East, but politeness that could cover a cruelty as harsh and as demonic as anything the West had to offer. The tall, thin, dark skinned man turned to Mary and made a similar expression of politeness. “You will follow me, please,” he said.

  Mary, naked and trembling, followed the Cambodian colonel down to the room that Madam Dupre had indicated. The room was a square of 20’ width and length. Instead of a bed, there was a 10’ x 10’ cushioned, dark blue, cotton covered mat centered along one wall. The room was lit by several flower shaped sconces. Large, bright red, over stuffed pillows were strewn about and a light blue couch sat against the wall opposite the mat. The walls were covered by a dark brown, textured wallpaper, which, together with the dimmed light of the sconces, gave the spacious room a feeling of intimacy.

  But what drew Mary’s attention were the polished mahogany cabinet located against the far wall, the heavy chain dangling from the 8’ high ceiling in the corner, the beringed ottoman and a strange wooden frame with a padded top. Her throat thickened as she contemplated what use the colonel would make of these objects or the things they contained.

  Huong motioned for Mary to take a place on the mat. She obediently walked to the edge of the mat and removed her bright red high heels. She then stepped to the center of the mat and knelt, facing her ‘client’, as it were, as she had been taught, her legs spread, her hands palms up on her thighs.

  A serving girl had followed them into the room. She carried a small tray and a menu. As was proper, she waited for the colonel to address her.

  “Yes?” he said, casting an appreciative glance over her naked form.

  “If it pleases the master,” the short, blond haired, young girl said in a voice just louder than a whisper, “would you like to order any refreshments?”

  Huong seemed to be pleasantly surprised by the suggestion.

  “Yes,” he responded. “Very much so.”

  The serving girl handed him the menu which he took several moments to examine. “Please bring me three large bottles of Perrier water, a small dish of cut limes and some ice,” he said, not raising his eyes from the simple, cardboard carte du jour. “In one hour and a half you may bring me an order of the Cajun shrimp with rice. Please ask the chef to make it extra spicy.” He looked up at the girl to ensure her comprehension of his request. She nodded at him and, with a bow, backed herself from the room. The steel door clanged shut, making Mary jump.

  Huong stepped over to the couch, ignoring, for the moment, Mary’s presence. He carefully undressed, and folded his clothes neatly on the chair. The young slave girl watched with fascination as the man began an almost ceremonial stretching of his muscles. She watched as she rocked his hips from side to side, his hands joined in an arch above his head. He did ten or fifteen, slow, carefully timed squats. His routine of exercises lasted about fifteen minutes. Mary could see a sheen of sweat on his body. As she watched his almost acrobatic movements, she pondered his instructions to the serving slave. One hour and a half, he said. Was he going to fuck her for an hour and a half?

  Just as Huong had completed his preparations for his use of Mary’s body, there was a buzzing at the door. Huong walked slowly over and opened it. The serving girl had brought his drink. She set the three green hued bottles on a small, round table near the door. She removed the bowl of ice and a small dish of cut limes from her tray and placed them down. She had brought only one glass.

  Huong nodded politely to the slave who retreated wordlessly from the room. After placing some ice in the glass, using the ornate silver spoon the girl had left there, he twisted open a bottle and carefully and deliberately filled it with the sparkling water. He took up a wedge of lime and squeezed it into the glass. After stirring it slowly, he took up the glass and took a long, slow drink.

  Everything that this man did was almost excruciatingly deliberate. Every movement seemed carefully choreographed. His firm, muscular body moved gracefully as if to some unheard song. When he finally placed the glass on the table and turned to look at the anxious, kneeling slave girl, Mary’s heart sunk. Now it would come.

  Huong walked onto the mat and knelt down on his haunches before the expectant girl. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and peered deeply into Mary’s. She was taken aback at the starkness of his stare. She tried to look away, but he raised his hands and placed them on either side of her head, forcing her gaze into his. The girl was awed by his prehensile strength. He placed his thumbs over her eyelids and brought her head towards his, forcing her to focus on his mesmerizing green eyes. Startled by the man’s motion, Mary’s body teetered forward. She instinctively placed her hand on the man’s knee for balance.

  In a flash, Huong released his grip of her head and struck her face brutally with his outstretched palm. The powerful slap rang in Mary’s ears. She uttered a surprised cry and fell to the mat. Her face burned where it had been struck. Huong looked at her with disdain. He poked his fingers into the mat in front of him forcefully. His meaning was clear, and the girl fearfully resumed her former position. Her eyes had filled with tears and her chest had begun to heave. When she had resumed her place, Huong waited for her reactions to subside. Although her body was trembling with apprehension, she gradually regained her breath. She fought back her tears and the burning sensation on her face faded.

  After a few moments of pure silence, Huong again leaned forward and took Mary’s head in his hands. He pulled her towards himself, again forcing her lids open with his thumbs. Mary was careful this time to maintain her balance. But the piercing stare of the colonel’s eyes overwhelmed her and she darted her eyes side to side and up and down to avoid it. Huong slapped her face again, this time lightly, but the heavy mass of his hand reminded the girl of the consequences of disappointing the strange, demanding man.

  The girl tried to keep her eyes focused on Huong’s, bu
t could not prevent her gaze from darting away. Each time, he gave her face another slap, each time a little harder. The man’s silent strength was overpowering. Using all her will, and drawing on her fear of the man’s precise and effective violence, Mary glued her gaze to his. She felt herself being drawn deeper and deeper into his spell. She understood that something strange and frightening was happening, that the man was sucking her will and her mind into his. If was if he was forcing a joinder of their souls, over powering hers with his. She was startled, after many moments had passed, when the strange man, without breaking his gaze, began to push her gently back, so that she was lying flat on the mat.

  When she was fully supine, he began to move his hands over her body. His gaze followed his firm, yet gentle hands. He carefully, deliberately, ran his hands down along her neck, over her shoulders and across her chest. His hands were strong and powerful and conveyed an electric charge each place they flowed. He slid them over and under her breasts, not caressing them, but feeling them, seemingly gaining a sense or knowledge of them.

  When she had leaned back, Mary had drawn her arms down to her sides. Huong now grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms over her head, so they were outstretched on the mat above her. He dragged his hands down the length of her arms, feeling every muscle, every joint. Mary had closed her eyes and her mind followed the demanding, heat bearing hands on their journey of discovery.

  Mary’s consciousness followed Huong’s hands as they descended her flanks and ran over her hips. He turned so that he faced towards her feet and, kneeling by her side, spread his touch over her taut belly and down the inside of her thighs. Mary expected him to seize her sex, which was aching with desire. The man’s touch was enticing her body into lust. But he carefully brushed his hands lightly over her mons. His hands moved down her thighs, over her knees and down her shins to her feet. His hip nestled against Mary’s side and she felt the heat of his body flowing into her.

  When he had explored every inch of her feet, Huong carefully urged her body over, bringing her back and buttocks into the range of his electrifying hands. Mary’s heart was pounding, although the man had not touched her sexually. She spread her thighs as his sensitive fingers moved up the back of her legs. He continued his upward exploration over the soft, white skin of her rear globes, drawing the cheeks apart, running his hand deliberately through the valley that ran between them. His hands rose up her back, over her shoulders and up her neck until her head was once more encased in his steel like grip.

  Mary felt that her whole body was dangling in space, held up only by the firm hands on either side of her temples. Her skin tingled with an electric charge, ready to crackle into fire at the slightest movement. She wanted this man’s body against hers, she craved it. He had captured her mind with his piercing, powerful stare and now had claimed every square inch of her body.

  Suddenly, she felt him shifting his body over hers. He lay atop her back, covering her, achieving the maximum contact between his hot skin and hers. Mary sighed with passion. No one had ever touched her like this. Her body had never felt so alive, so sensitive to sensation. Maintaining bodily contact, he rolled her over so that she was again on her back. Again he pressed his body against hers, stretching his arms out to meet hers, pressing his chest against her bosom.

  The slave girl groaned with lust as she felt his heat. But she felt that she dared not move, dared not break the spell her had put her under. He slid his torso off of hers and pulled her up until she was sitting in his lap. He circled his legs between hers and forced them open, locking his ankles over hers. He crossed his left hand across her breasts and pulled her sideways so that her hip lay against his groin. She was twisted in half, bent over. His legs and arm had her in an iron grip. She felt his free hand run down her back, caressing her hip. It then moved upwards until his hand was circled around the back of her neck. The man and the slave lay there still for a moment. Her body was imprisoned by his; she was utterly in his control. She felt his level, even breathing and fell into a dizzying trance.

  It was then that she felt a slight pressure at the base of her neck. His thumb was gradually, but forcefully digging into her muscle. All at once a sharp stab of pain spread out from the point of contact with the man’s thumb. Mary drew in her breath in surprise. The pain was excruciating and she tried to shift her body or move her neck to avoid the pressure of Huong’s digit. The man held her in his iron grip. The pain grew more and more intense as he pushed gradually harder and harder on the pressure point he had found. Mary’s body jerked and convulsed with the pain. She cried out, “Ahhhhhhhhh! Oh, God, please stop, please!”

  But the man did not stop. Mary screamed in pain and struggled desperately to free herself from his grasp. His strong arms kept hers pinned against his body. It was like he was inside her, controlling her every sensation, had captured her in a devious, immobilizing spell.

  Huong let the slave girl cry and suffer for several minutes. He would withdraw the pressure slightly, giving the helpless woman’s flesh and mind a moment’s respite, and then again push hard against the nerve ending he had found, evoking another round of frantic screams and pleas.

  For the next hour, Huong mercilessly tortured Mary’s body. Rotating her body at will, keeping close contact between his skin and hers, his hands roamed her body as before, but using the knowledge he had gained as a roadmap to her most sensitive and vulnerable spots. He pushed his iron fingers into the interstices of her muscles, cramping them, drawing piteous moans of pain from the girl. He used his tightly muscled frame to extend her joints until she begged him to stop, pleading for mercy. He seemed to know the location of every nerve, every pressure point in her body, and used that knowledge to draw agonized screams of pain from the helpless girl. She felt as if her body was in the process of being digested by some fierce demon.

  Huong had taken ownership of her mind and body in a very real sense. During the whole intense ordeal, his torso never lost contact with hers. She could feel his body’s intense heat as he rolled her over and over, stopping only when he had chosen a new place to torment her. The only sounds in the room was her long drawn out moans of pain, her now feeble entreaties for him to stop, her piteous sobs.

  Mary’s mind was crazed with the almost continuous agonizing pain. Time dragged on slowly; every second of excruciating sensation seemed like it would last forever. She had been whipped brutally many times, but she had never experienced anything like this.

  She found herself with her arms wedged tightly between his legs, her own legs splayed wide, his body wrapped around hers. Her muscles were tightly strained. His hand found her as yet ignored nether lips. The sudden contact with her sex startled her. She moaned with fear of what he would do to her there. Holding her tightly immobile, his fingers delicately pried them apart. She sensed herself lubricating as he gently stroked her slit. His prospective invasion of her inner self caused a wave of revulsion to flood over her.

  Moaning, her muscles still screaming in pain, she struggled futilely for release, for the power to refuse his caress. But he was too strong, too skilled for her to break his strangle hold. She cried and screamed, ranting her despair. When she felt his long, supple fingers enter her, felt them plunge deeply into her womb, she cried out, begging for respite, pleading for release.

  As the cruel Asian worked her cunt, she felt her passion rising. She tried to fight it off, to deny him this dominion over her. But her body refused to obey her; her pussy moistened and expanded at the man’s devilish touch. Her breathing became deeper, her legs began to involuntarily shudder. Suddenly, she found herself twisted around. Her mind was too befogged with both pain and pleasure to comprehend how he did it, but she felt his stiff rod probe at the entrance to her sheath. Slowly, it crept inside her, pushing the walls aside, dragging itself over her electrified clit. Slowly, leisurely, the man stroked his iron-like rod inside her. Each stab of his prick deep into her womb pierced her very being. She shivered as she felt her lust begin to crest. She marshaled h
er forces for one last, futile attempt at freedom. Huong felt the desperateness of her move and tightened his control of her. “Oooooooooh!” she moaned as she felt her body succumb to the demands of her assailant’s meaty staff. Her cunt clamped tightly around it. Her body convulsed as she came, wringing another long, woeful wail from her.

  Her contractions subsided, but the man relentlessly continued his probing at her loins. “Noooooooo!’ she called out as her blood began to rise again. “Noooooo, please, please!”

  Huong’s lust fed on Mary’s pain and despair. He was on a plane of sensual delight far beyond Mary’s understanding. He had carefully prepared his prey, had taken possession of her mind and body. He had driven all thought from her but the pain and pleasure he was inducing, all physical sensation except what he had imposed. Again and again, his cock still embedded deeply within her, between rounds of exquisite pain, he made her come. Finally, he felt it was time to enjoy release. He would let his mind float in a sea of pleasure. He eased his firm mastery of his own responses, letting his lust carry him away. As his cock exploded, he felt the twin forces of life and death flow through him. He squeezed Mary tightly as he felt her crisis begin anew, bringing her to new heights of pain and pleasure all at once. She moaned and cried as she came.

  When his cock had ceased its spasms, he allowed his body to relax. Mary felt his grip on her loosen. He released her and she rolled to the mat, her body limp. She gave great thanks for her release. She could not control herself and began to sob heavily. Huong closed his eyes and sat back on his haunches, the very position he had adopted before the beginning of his cunning and ruthless assault of the young slave girl. He drank in Mary’s pain with his ears.

  The Cambodian colonel was sitting entranced when there was a timid knocking on the door. He rose and opened it, admitting the serving slave. She had brought his repast and placed the steaming plate down on the table. He thanked her and ushered her out the door.