Stoner gave the girl twenty blows with the cane. Denise, by the end, had been begging him to stop. He was nude and she saw that his passion had risen. She hoped that he would fuck her soon, to satiate his lust. She got her wish. Stoner threw down the whip and stepped between the girl’s thighs. Her pussy was widely split by her outstretched legs. He easily restored her physical readiness for intercourse by stroking the inside of the labial lips and caressing the small bud of pleasure. Nonetheless, the girl moaned in pain when he thrust his hot cock home. Her pussy was battered and sore. Each thrust of the man’s hips against hers caused waves of pain to roll through her. She could not prevent herself from crying out, a cry which Stoner mistook for passion.
“Yeah, take it bitch!” he called out when he heard Denise’s cry. “Take my cock up that slutty snatch of yours!” His thrusts became harder and more frequent.
Denise, despite herself, felt the familiar heat in her loins. “Yes, yes,” she told her self. “Make me come, you bastard! At least make me come!”
When she felt Stoner stiffen and heard him moan, Denise was propelled into orgasm. “Agh! Agh! Agh!” she cried as she tried to reciprocate Stoner’s thrusts. Her cunt was still pulsing with pleasure when Stoner withdrew. He looked at her with admiration. “This one was worth every penny,” he thought. Jeremiah, standing behind him and watching the white woman’s passionate response, was not so sure.
Stoner took a break. He tossed back a long pull from a bottle of beer. He wanted to whip her some more. He motioned to Jeremiah to release her legs and let them fall to the floor. Denise sighed with relief as she felt the concrete beneath her feet. When she felt the tall, mean looking black man fix a strap around her ankles, she knew that her torments had not ended. Another strap was affixed around her thighs, just above the knees. She would be unable to turn or twist to avoid the blows. She resolved not to cry if she could help it.
The first slash of the thin reed fell across her pale white breasts. She moaned in pain. The second was across her stomach. She moaned a little louder. By the fifth stroke, this one across the front of her thighs, she was in tears. When Stoner went to work on the back of her legs, she broke down and again begged and pleaded for mercy. She made all the promises all of the women in such circumstances make. Stoner only stopped when his arm became tired.
The girl’s whole body burned and ached from the blows. She had received several across the breasts and her delicate globes throbbed with pain.
Stoner was too tired to fuck her again. He would fuck her again tomorrow. He wanted to save himself for Justine, who would be spending her last night in his bed. There was a terrible pleasure in taking physical delight from a woman who did not know that her fate had been sealed. Justine would pleasure him with all of her skills and enthusiasm. And tomorrow he would discard her.
Stoner left Denise alone with Jeremiah. It was his turn to sample the new bitch. Jeremiah waited until the sound of the door slamming closed stopped reverberating through the room. He stepped up to Denise, standing inches from her face. He grabbed her face and forced her to look into his eyes.
“I am Jeremiah,” he said. “I am the caretaker of the master’s slaves. If you fear the master, you should fear me more, because I know of more subtle, more excruciating ways to bring pain to a slutty white woman like you. We will get to know each other well. You will have no secrets from me.”
The terrible demeanor of the black man made Denise tremble. She did not know what he meant by secrets. She had no secrets that she knew of. All she knew was that it was apparent that this huge, cruel, black man was going to abuse and torture her, worse than she had already received from the white man, her ‘owner’. Inwardly, she cursed her fate.
Jeremiah released her from her chains. He let her fall to the concrete floor. He prodded her with his foot until she crawled to a small steel cage. He would not fuck her yet, he had decided. He would wait. One day, when the master was away, he would bring her down here and find out all there was to know about her. Once the tearful woman had crawled inside the cage, Jeremiah slammed it shut and locked it. “I will see you in the morning,” he said.
* * *
In New York, the hotel had turned into a war room. Maps were spread over the bed. Nora had been on the telephone all day. Turk, too, as he called in chips. Lenny lounged around drinking beer and smoking out on the balcony. Once the country the box was in had been nailed down, they had sorted out how to get there the quickest and most discreetly. Nora had located a source for a helicopter and a plane, depending on which suited their needs more. There was a source in the country who could reliably supply weapons.
Five used-looking fake passports were on order. Pictures of Cheryl, Denise and the three of them had been emailed to the source.
Once the report had come back that the box had not moved for two hours, it was felt that they had located Denise’s new owner. Nora sat back from the computer when she read it. “That’s in the middle of nowhere! It’s almost 200 miles from the capital. There’s no airstrips around it, only one decent road to it. It’s miles from the sea. How do we get in?”
Turk was on the telephone. He covered up the mouthpiece and replied, “I don’t know, but I’ve got a handle on who Denise’s most likely owner is. You should be getting a copy of a State Department report on the guy in about fifteen minutes.”
Twenty minutes later, Nora and the Turk poured over the minutely detailed report about Benjamin Stoner. What they read was not good. All of his brutality came through clearly in the report. He was a megalomaniac. There were several hearsay reports about virtual slave labor camps used to staff his mines and plantations. He had a private army. He was hand in glove with the government. And he was very wealthy. This was not going to be easy.
It was dinner time and as the three ate light dinners, Nora recapped.
“We’ve got flights to the neighboring country tomorrow morning. The day after, you two will be flown into Katango with fake papers. We’ve got a guy looking for an angle to get you into Stoner’s little empire, which is in the northeast corner of the country. I’ll be standing by with a seaplane. There’s a major lake near Stoner’s mansion, which is almost certainly where the girls will be found. When you guys get them, I’ll land on the lake and fly you out.”
“Sounds simple,” Lenny said. “Except you left out the part where this guy smells a rat, captures us and feeds us to alligators.”
“That’s crocodiles, Lenny,” Nora replied. “Alligators are in Florida.”
“Well, crocodiles then,” Lenny retorted. “Jesus Christ on a cross!” he exclaimed. “Are you guys nuts or what? Do you think that we’ll be able to waltz in there, traveling, what, 200 miles by road, not get stopped anywhere for our papers, nobody asking what we’re doing there? Why not fly us in by chopper?”
“There’s no place to drop us off where we would be in reasonable striking distance of the mansion besides deep in the jungle,” Turk answered Lenny. “If we get too close, all those soldiers he’s got will be awake and ready to pounce. If we land in the jungle, we might not ever make it there at all.”
“Listen”, he continued, “let’s get on the plane in the morning and see what develops when we get to, what’s that place called?” he asked Nora.
“Niger,” she answered, “Not Nigeria, Niger.”
“Okay, Niger. There are people working for us right now in Katango. Let’s hope they come up with something.”
That night, Turk finally succumbed to Nora’s charms. They made passionate love on the hotel bed. Nora loved the Turk’s long, thick cock, and she gave it special attention with her hot lips and tongue. The Turk moaned as she pressed her lips around the helmet shaped head. She ran her tongue the length of the shaft, all the while massaging his heavy sac with her hand. She took the sac into her mouth, gently sucking on the tender stones of flesh inside.
She took Turk’s first discharge directly into her mouth. She wanted the taste of it, to feel its viscous presence in her mouth. S
he swallowed it lustfully. She kept him hard by a dexterous application of her hand and her lips and then mounted him, pushing his stiff cock home into her throbbing sheath.
Nora moaned with pleasure as she felt the rod penetrate her to her depths. She rocked gently back and forth on top of him, looking for the drag of his tool across her hard button of pleasure. When she came, she cried out as tremor after tremor shook her body. When they subsided, she started again, clutching Turk’s cock firmly with the muscles of her hot, fleshy tunnel. The Turk had his large, scarred hands on her breasts as she rode him once more. He cupped her firm globes and gently massaged them. When she began to pant heavily and grind deeply into his loins, he pinched and twisted the nipples, mixing Nora’s flashes of pleasure with pain. She came mightily this time, crying out. The Turk pulled her down, their loins still connected and filled her mouth with his tongue. His cock began to throb and it spurted his hot seed into her belly.
When their passions had been sated, the two lay side by side, Nora nestled in the crux of Turk’s shoulder. He had his hand on her pussy, slowly and gently stroking its soft interior with his finger.
After a while, Nora spoke. “You’re the only man I let fuck me, Turk. Do you know that?”
“I know that Nora. You can fuck me anytime.”
“But what about when you get your love slave and retire in contentment to your little island? Will you still fuck me then?”
“I’ll always fuck you Nora, anytime, anywhere.”
After more silence, Nora moaned, the Turk’s gentle stroking of her moist slit was starting to revive her passion. She pushed off of him. “Turk, we’ve got a big day ahead. Let’s get some sleep.”
“If things go bad….” Turk began to say.
Nora interrupted, “If things go bad, I’ll take care of Tamara and the old man.” She gently ran her hand through his jet black hair. “And I’ll miss you, Tarðk Temizan.” It was the first time he had heard his name from anyone’s lips for many years.
“Thank you, Nora,” he said.
* * *
Justine had been meanly used that night. She could not recall the last time that Stoner had beat her so severely or used her flesh so roughly. Her breasts were still sore from his abuse of them and she bore red stripes all down her ass and thighs. Jeremiah led her back to the woman’s dormitory and ordered all the women to be washed and presentable in 45 minutes. The three women looked at each other when Jeremiah had left. Cheryl wondered what was going to happen. Justine had the answer. “There’s going to be a selection,” she said.
She had been through many selections, had seen many women hauled from the dormitory, gagged and bound, their destination the Discipline Room where Stoner would have one last fling with them. They would then be thrown to the soldiers for their use for several days. And then a helicopter trip to the capital.
The three women looked at each other nervously. If Justine was right, one of them would be gone within the hour. They hugged and kissed one another. Mary started to cry. “It’s going to be me, I just know it,” she sobbed.
“We’re not sure it’s going to be anybody yet,” Cheryl answered. “Maybe Justine is wrong.”
“Let’s just say that I hope I am wrong,” Justine said.
The women all made sure they were washed and their faces made up to look pretty. Cheryl helped Mary by applying dark rouge to the tips of her breasts. She kissed them when she was done. Mary thanked her.
At about a quarter after ten, Jeremiah came back to the room. He was carrying several leather thongs and three gags. Mary started to cry.
“All turn around,” was all that Jeremiah said. The three women dutifully turned their backs to the major domo and crossed their wrists behind them. Jeremiah quickly and deftly bound their wrists. “Turn around,” he said again. One by one, he inserted the heavy, leather ball gags into their mouths and affixed the strap behind their heads. There would be no begging or pleading when Stoner made his choice.
“Kneel. Legs wide apart,” Jeremiah ordered. All the women slowly fell to their knees and spread their thighs. Jeremiah turned to leave. “No moving!” he ordered as he went through the door.
Denise had slept fitfully. She was hungry and cramped. Her pussy was still sore from yesterday’s abuse. During the night, Jeremiah brought her some water in a plastic bottle. At least she thought it was the night, there being no windows in the Discipline Room, it was impossible to tell. He put a tray under the cage and ordered her to pee. Before he left, he tied her hands together outside of the cage, a steel bar between them.
When Jeremiah came in, he kicked down wheels that set on each corner of the cage and started to roll her out of the room. When he got to the door he stopped. He opened the door to the cage and ordered Denise to open her mouth. She complied meekly. He thrust in a large leather ball. Then he placed a black bag over her head.
The cage was then rolled to an elevator and taken to the second floor. Jeremiah waited outside the dormitory door for Stoner to arrive. He was due back from his morning inspections about 11 o’clock. At 11:05, Stoner came trudging up the stairs. He was wearing his khaki shorts and a matching shirt. He had on heavy, steel-toed boots. He had Dalila in tow. He tied her leash off on the balustrade next to the stairs. He paused to look at the appealing flesh of his soon-to-be new wife. He had a short riding crop in his hand and he used it to poke Denise in the breast. “Have I got a surprise for you,” he said to her menacingly. Denise tensed with fear. She had had quite a surprise last night.
The door opened and the cage was wheeled in. If the women needed any corroboration of their fears, this was it. They saw the nubile body of a young woman in the cage, a young white woman who bore the marks of a whip. Justine knew that the odds were against her. She had survived too many selections. But then, maybe she could survive one more. Stoner had used her last night and she had given him great pleasure. “Perhaps,” she thought, “that means he still wants me.”
Mary was frightened too. It seemed to her that Stoner’s attention had been focused on his other two wives lately. Maybe he had gotten bored with her large tits. That’s all she seemed to be to him, a set of big fat tits. He always abused them mercilessly whenever he used her for the night.
But Cheryl was the most frightened of all. She recalled the President’s promise to her. She knew that he meant it. She hated Stoner with all of her heart, but she had real reason to fear being sent to the capital now. She had only been the President’s plaything for one night. She could not imagine what a month with him would be like. And her pussy, he was going to sew it up! Cheryl was so nervous that her bladder began to leak. She held it back with all her might.
Stoner followed Jeremiah and the cage into the room. All the women’s eyes were on him. “Good morning, ladies,” he said cheerfully. “I’m sorry to say that it’s going to be goodbye for one of you.” He stepped near the visibly shaken women. He ran his riding crop over Justine’s breasts. She arched her back to make them more prominent. “Good Justine,” he continued. “I had fun with you last night. You still have the best mouth of all. And you moan so nicely when you’re whipped.”
The heavy, square shouldered man stepped up to Mary. “Oh, Mary, I have enjoyed your beautiful tits. But they do look a little saggy lately. Maybe we should get you down to the capital while they’re still nice and ripe.” Mary’s eyes brimmed with tears. She had heard Cheryl’s story about the President and his threats. If that was what the place was like, what would they do to her?
He stepped over to Cheryl. He was careful not to use her name. “And you?” he said prodding her with the riding crop. “I understand that the President is waiting for you. He’s called me twice, asking when am I going to tire of you. It would make him very happy if I sent you down. And I do need to keep him happy these days.” He ran the riding crop between Cheryl’s legs and pushed at the entrance to her vagina. “But you do fuck so well.” He turned so that all three women were in his vision and he could see all of their eyes glued
to his. He took a deep breath, prolonging their anxiety. He nodded to Jeremiah. The tall brown man walked directly to Justine, grabbed her arm and stood her up.
Justine’s eyes reflected her resignation. It had happened at last. She was sorry to go, but was glad that the waiting was over. Whatever awaited her there, at least it was the beginning of the end. She did not know what precise travails she would face at Stoner’s whorehouse. She too had listened to Cheryl. She knew what bitter end awaited her eventually, that the life of an African whore would be short. But for her, now, it could not be short enough.
Jeremiah hustled the slender, slight blond woman from the room. She would be delivered to the Discipline Room, where she would face Stoner’s goodbye torment.
The remaining two women looked at Stoner expectantly. They were relieved that it was not them who was sent away, but were sad to see their lover and friend gone to such a fate. Someday, they knew, it would be them.
Stoner opened the door to the cage. He released Denise’s hands from the bars and prodded her with the riding crop. “Out! Out!” he yelled.
Denise crawled as best she could out of the cage. She had heard the strange proceedings and wondered what it meant for her. That there were other women here was a relief. She would have company. But would she remain gagged and bound, a helpless, voiceless beast? She prayed that she would not.
Stoner ordered Denise to kneel. He went over to the other women and released their gags and the bindings around their wrists. “I want you to welcome your new sister,” Stoner said. Come over and kiss her breasts.”
Slaver's Bait: The Taking of Cheryl Page 16