White Slave Cop

by Dean King

  One by one the girls were brought through the doorway, and disappeared around a corner. Amy waved goodbye to Carol as she was taken through.

  Once around the corner, it became apparent that they were moving toward a very large room indeed. The sounds of dozens and dozens of people talking came much more clearly.

  They stopped in front of another man. He held a short hypodermic needle, which he jabbed into Amy's arm. He picked up a thick leather and metal collar and slid it around Ay's neck. It clicked shut with a note of finality. A short leash was attached to it and the first man pulled her through a thick blue curtain and out into the room.

  Amy gasped as she realized she was on a stage. Rows of raised seats surrounded her, each occupied by a man in a white robe, or business suit. They quieted as she was led toward the front of the stage.

  There was a man there, wearing a robe. The uniformed man turned her over to him and then left. Amy stood uncertainly beside the man, swallowing nervously, unsure what to do. She was used to her own nakedness by now, yet there were so many men staring at her, she couldn't help feel self conscious and embarrassed.

  "Stand up straight,” the man hissed at her, making her jump in surprise.

  She straightened instantly, thrusting her big breasts out as her skin reddened.

  The man began speaking in a loud voice, in a language she didn't recognize. Several times he pointed at her as he spoke. Whatever was in the needle began working on her, easing her worries and embarrassment. Her eyes closed slightly and blinked as a feeling of apathy crept over her.

  "Put your arms behind your head and push your chest out more,” the man ordered.

  Amy complied as he began to talk to the crowd again.

  His hand came down on her left breast and began to squeeze it roughly as he talked. A number of the men laughed or grinned in response. Several shouted out something in their strange language.

  "Turn around and bend forward,” the man told her.

  Amy gulped and did as ordered, feeling less self conscious and slightly excited by all the men watching her nude body.

  The man's hand slid over her buttocks, squeezing them, then down onto her pubic mound. His hand squeezed her briefly as he talked, then two fingers slid up into her vagina.

  Amy gasped, as a hot burst of sexual excitement surged through her loins. The man's fingers pumped in and out of her cunt for a minute, making her legs go rubbery. The man pulled his fingers out and held them up to the lights, so the crowd of men could see the girl juices glistening on them.

  There were more shouts from the crowd.

  "Hands and knees,” he ordered. Amy immediately dropped to her knees pushing her ass out at the crowd who yelled even more loudly.

  "On your back and hold your legs apart,” he said, and Amy rolled on to her back, her groin toward the crowd, and pulled her feet far apart on the stage.

  The crowd yelled in response.

  A sharp tug on her leash rolled Amy over onto her belly. "On your hands and knees!" the man ordered.

  She complied instantly, and he began leading her across the stage towards a small raised platform.

  On it was a rounded sort of seat, like a saddle. This saddle though, had a long, fat dildo fixed to the center, pointing boldly upward. He jerked her up by the leash and pushed her towards the thing, and Amy gingerly got on, lowering herself with a little squeal of happiness onto the rigid rubber cock.

  "Fuck the cock!" the man ordered.

  She needed little encouragement, placing her small hands in front of her and her feet flat on the floor only inches beneath, she began raising and lowering herself onto the big fuckstick.

  The crowd was screaming and yelling with happiness and excitement as they watched the exquisite blonde woman ramming her crotch up and down onto the dildo.

  The little platform turned slowly around, letting the crowd see her from all angles, from her parted ass cheeks to her gasping, deliriously happy face. The bids increased as they saw how hot and shameless she was on the instrument.

  Amy didn't care who watched. Her eyes were fixed on her hands in front of her as she humped up and down, up and down, feeling the fucking tool thrust up into her guts with a mixture of ecstasy and fulfillment.

  After a minute the shouting ended, and Amy was taken off the dildo to the back of the stage and brought down a different stairwell.

  A tag written in Arabic was tied around her neck and she was placed in a cage. She sat around there for a while before a man came and gave her a needle.

  She woke up to find her body lying nude on a table. Her skin felt damp and freshly scrubbed, and her hair was very wet. There was an Arab woman standing nearby fiddling with what looked like a hair dryer.

  "Well, awake I see,” she noted.

  The woman was very beautiful. She had long dark hair that came down to her waist, and was wearing a blue jumpsuit, with a white apron around it. Amy guessed she was around thirty.

  "Since you’re awake you can sit up and make this easier for me,” she said, motioning at the girl. Amy fought weakly to raise herself, and the woman moved forward to help her, until she was sitting on the edge of the table.

  "Why am I all wet?" she asked timidly.

  "I just gave you a bath,” the woman answered, as she turned on the hair dryer.

  She worked it on Amy's hair until it hung in sleek waves around her shoulders and fell in cute bangs to just above her eyes. Amy sat quietly, swaying slightly, as the effects of the drug wore off. The woman finished and stepped back.

  "Okay. You're done,” she said.

  She helped Amy stand and walk out of the room into another. There were a number of gold chains and bracelets lying on a table there. The woman picked up the bracelets and began fastening them on Amy's wrists and ankles.

  Amy gazed at them interestedly. They were all simple bands, about three inches wide, without decoration except for a round loop protruding from one side. She tugged at one experimentally. It wouldn't come off. It was locked tightly somehow she couldn't figure.

  The explanation for bands came quickly enough. A thin, but strong gold chain was pushed through the holes. It ran from her collar, down to her right wrist, down to a thinner metal band that was placed about her waist, to her right ankle.

  Another chain was looped between her ankles, and ran up the side of her left leg to fasten to the waistband, and then up to the collar again.

  Amy stared down at the chains in dismay. She could only move her hands out together a foot or so. She could move one out further so long as she kept the other against her waist.

  Another person came into the room, and inspected her. She was a huge ugly fat woman, and wore weird looking purple robes. "Goot,” she said. "Come."

  Amy obediently trailed behind her as she walked out of the room and down several narrow corridors.

  The chain between her ankles made her shuffle rather than walk. All her chains tinkled slightly as she moved.

  Every few yards stood a soldier in full dress uniform. They stood unmoving as Amy shuffled by, but their eyes never left her. The woman led her to a wide pair of doors guarded by two more soldiers and knocked.

  Amy squirmed a little under the studious glare of the two soldiers. Somehow it seemed different than the eyes of the men she was used to. The sounds of laughter and music began to appear as the door opened.

  She stopped next to the doors and turned to her.

  "You listen carefully girl,” she said in a strangely accented voice. "I take you inside where people are and show you to Prince. You do what he tell you. Understand?"

  Amy nodded dumbly.

  The woman grabbed her arms in her thick hands and squeezed until Amy yelped in pain, then she shook the blonde. "You obey him! You die otherwise! He order you kill!"

  Amy cowered back, as the woman opened the door further and pulled her through.

  Amy was led into an enormous room, that she at first thought was a ballroom. There were hundreds of people, all Arabs, wandering
about or simply standing still talking. The woman led her up a wide aisle.

  Amy's bare feet felt cold on the stone floor, and made little slapping noises as she walked slowly along. Every eye in the place turned to stare at her as she moved down the aisle.

  Her old easiness at nudity began to evaporate quickly as the people watched her every move. Some stared hungrily, while others glared, or scowled. Some of them, such as the women simply sniffed, and turned away.

  Everyone seemed decorously clothed except her. The men and women covered from head to toe in long robes of assorted colours. The women wore veils to cover their faces as well.

  Amy felt her skin redden under their intense and often hostile scrutiny. She was bewildered by all of this. Nothing in her training had prepared her for a situation like it and the confused and embarrassed girl didn't know how to react.

  As they reached the front of the room they climbed three steps onto a raised section where a man sat on a huge chair, like a throne she thought. Amy burned in embarrassment as everyone turned to watch her slow approach. "That is Prince Abdul, your master,” the woman hissed to her.

  She felt hundreds of eyes behind her as she shambled slowly forward, her chains clinking. She lowered her eyes, embarrassed at facing the splendidly dressed group of people gathered around Abdul.

  The woman brought her to a halt a few feet in front of where he sprawled indolently on his throne, and stepped back to stand stolid and impassive a few feet away.

  The room was oppressively hot, and Amy found herself sweating, not just from the heat, but from nervousness and apprehension.

  Her skin crawled from the continuous unfriendly attention paid her by the big crowd throughout the room; she felt their eyes sliding up and down her nude body.

  A man dressed in a blue silken robe standing next to Abdul said something to him in Arabic and he answered. The two eyed her closely, talking to each other, and were joined by several other men in their conversation.

  Amy had no idea what they were saying except it was probably about her. She kept her head down, trying to ignore them and everyone else. Then a louder than normal voice caught her attention. By its tone it was an order of some sort.

  She peered up to see an angry faced man next to Abdul staring at her. He repeated the order, whatever it was, but Amy could only stare in confusion.

  At last he clicked his teeth in annoyance and strode forward, his arm going to her head and gripping a chunk of her golden blonde locks tightly. He jerked her forward, and down to her knees before Abdul, cursing in his strange tongue.

  She knelt uncertainly, her knees pressed against the harsh stone, and her back straight as she had been taught. The men continued to eye her with dislike, and talk amongst themselves. Then she was pushed down to the floor with a harsh shove against her back.

  Her sweating breasts chilled with contact against the seemingly icy stone. More harsh guttural cries erupted amongst the men, increasing her anxiety. She could hear the murmur of many voices behind her as well.

  They grumbled and chattered with each other for several minutes as Amy lay there getting more and more miserable. Then Abdul spoke to her in English at last.

  "You! American!" he sneered.

  Amy dared to look up from her study of the stone floor.

  He eyed her nastily.

  "You will demonstrate your obedience to my people if you wish to live. You will crawl forward on your belly, and place your lips against my heel,” he held his foot up.

  Amy gulped in dismay, even the limited pride she retained balking at crawling across the cold dirty stone to kiss this Arab pig's feet, especially in front of so many people!

  Her conditioning however, fought the very idea of resisting an order, and was joined with her fear at what might happen to her if she did. She trembled in dread, as the menacing looking group before her grew angrily impatient.

  Then she slowly extended her right arm a few inches, then her left. She heard the murmur of the crowd quiet, and her skin stood on edge as she crawled forward across the short expanse of floor toward Abdul's chair.

  She felt the gritty dirt of the floor scraping across her breasts, and belly as she hesitantly crawled forward until her face was inches from his foot.

  She gritted her teeth against the humiliation she was feeling, and forced herself to inch her face forward and plant a kiss against the side of his dirty bare foot.

  "Now your tongue woman!" Abdul hissed commanded.

  Amy licked her tongue out tentatively, hating the dreadful foul taste that came to her mouth as her tongue made contact with the side of his foot.

  He lifted his foot then and placed it atop her head, forcing her down against the floor. His foot pressed down against her head, forcing her to turn her head sideways to stop her face getting squished.

  She felt his gritty dirty foot against the side of her face as he yelled something to the crowded room.

  "Clean my foot woman!" he hissed menacingly. "Use your tongue to bathe my feet and show your abasement."

  Amy blinked back tears as the crowd yelled its approval at whatever Abdul had said. She grimaced and raised her head as Abdul's foot came off it.

  She gripped his foot in her two hands and slowly rasped her soft tongue across it. Starting at the sides and working her way down along to his toes. She tried to shut off her sense of taste as she worked her tongue in amongst his dirty toes, and then along to the bottom of his foot, to lick off the dirt and grit there.

  When she finished she was forced to clean the other foot in a similar fashion. Then Abdul held his feet up for the crowd to see and said something derisively in Arabic. The crowd roared in agreement and laughter.

  Abdul stood up and moved over the little blonde. She gasped as his hand gripped her hair and pulled her to her knees.

  He placed her on her hands and knees, her behind facing the crowd and said something else very loudly, again bringing laughter. Then his hand slid up and down her ass cheeks, squeezing them tightly, before sliding between her legs to grip her pubic mound.

  Again he spoke laughingly to the crowd who responded in kind with laughter and whistles. Amy knelt there submissive and miserable, for the millionth time cursing her sex.

  Abdul twisted her about sharply by the hair so she was facing the crowd, then hauled her hair up and back so she fell on her back. He reached down and unfastened one end of the chain connecting her ankles and kicked her legs wide apart, giving everyone a good view of her exposed pussy slit. There was an increase in laughter and catcalls from the crowd below.

  He said something, which Amy at first didn't hear for the laughing.

  She blinked up at him uncertainly.

  "Abuse yourself!" he commanded.

  Amy still didn't understand.

  His foot came forward and rubbed against her cuntslit.

  "Abuse yourself American!" he glared.

  "My people wish to see how sluttish American women behave."

  At last she understood.

  "If I repeat once more, I have you raped by a donkey before them!" he hissed.

  Amy slowly moved her hands down between her legs. She felt her tender cunt mound, cold and gritty from the stone floor. Slowly she worked her fingers up and down the slit as the crowd quieted and stared mesmerized.

  Her legs sprawled apart, she began rubbing and stroking her cuntslit, and clitty. She dropped her head back, trying to ignore the crowd as she stared upward at the ceiling high above.

  Almost automatically, her fingers began to dip gently inside her slit, darting in and out as she squeezed her cunt mound repeatedly. Her mind sought to escape as she numbly followed the Arabs orders and fondled herself.

  She withdrew into herself, her mind obscuring the monstrous ordeal. Her body was on automatic pilot as she fantasized about her childhood. Her movements indifferent and lethargic.

  Her body, left on its own began to react as it was conditioned to. Her cunt began to warm then ignite. Hot juices flowed down into her tun
nel and her breathing grew shallow and quick. Her groin began to hump up against her hands, much to the excitement and derision of the watching crowd.

  Her eyes closed as her disconnected mind fought off the sensations washing over her. Her hips rose from the floor repeatedly then began slowly circling in mid-air. Her fingers danced over her pubic mound, jabbing furiously in and out of her cuntslit. Her breathing came in uncertain gasps as her tit mounds swelled and her body trembled with unrestrained sexual fire.

  Slowly, but surely, fighting every step of the way, Amy's mind was dragged kicking and screaming back to the here and now, back to the room full of hooting whistling Arabs who heaped their derision on her writhing body.

  A terrible sob escaped her lips in between her grunts of pleasure. Her conditioning was unstoppable as she was pulled fully awake into a body, shuddering on the edge of orgasm.

  No matter who or what or where, she had no power to stop herself as her fingers pushed into her cunt tube, first one, then two then three.

  She thrust them roughly inside, as her thumb rubbed insistently across her throbbing clitoris. Her hips continued to gyrate uncontrollably, spinning and circling, and humping up and down as the mortified girl worked herself against her fingers.

  She snivelled in despair, then her body shuddered and then strained

  tautly. Her fingers plunged down her cunt hole, to meet a sluicing flood of cunt juice as she rocked to a huge orgasm there in front of the incredulous crowd.

  Her legs collapsed dropping her ass back onto the stone floor, where she rocked back and forth before groaning in satiated bliss.

  She lay there gasping for breath, arms and legs sprawled apart, cunt dripping, as the crowd showered abuse upon her.

  She heard the voices of the nearby men, louder than the background crowd. They jabbered something to each other. Amy was picked up and pulled over to a low wide marble table that sat to the left of the throne, and pushed up on it so she sat on the edge.

  There was laughter from the men around her, and then one of the men pushed forward to generous chuckles and cackles.

  His hands pushed her chest so she fell back to lie flat on the table, and he pushed her legs far apart. He turned to the crowd and said something and they screamed with laughter. Amy closed her eyes in trepidation.