by Tessa Valmur
'How many of you are there?' Vanessa asked timidly.
'Nine!'
She thought quickly. Servicing nine men for three days or being whipped every six hours - there was no contest!
'I'll look after your men,' she announced, trying to make it sound like a reluctantly made decision.
'Excellent!' roared the Captain. 'Right then Bosun Flint, leave a man at the helm for now and we'll let the rest of the crew all have their first taste right now!'
'But not all of you together!' Vanessa protested.
'What's wrong with that? Eager little slut like you should have enough stamina to service nine men. Right Flint, get the men in order of seniority after myself. So, what's your name girl?'
'Vanessa.'
'Well Vanessa, get that pretty mouth of yours around my cock before I lose my patience with you and give you a good flogging anyway!'
Vanessa set to work, sucking and licking until the man told her to stop and turn round on the bed, supporting herself on her hands and knees. His hands grasped her buttocks and drew them apart. Then without any preamble he rammed his cock into her pussy. Groaning and swearing with fevered excitement and satisfaction he pumped away until he came. With scarcely a pause the man named Flint, the tallest and meanest of the crew, pressed a hand against her back between her shoulder blades encouraging her to stay bent over for him. Hands then grasped her ankles and pulled her backwards, taking her by surprise. With her legs pulled over the edge of the bed and held widely apart, her sex was driven up against his thick cock and then he was inside her, his powerful hands clasping her hips to keep her held in place. Before he'd come though Vanessa herself was brought to orgasm and as she gasped and writhed, held by the men, they laughed and agreed amongst themselves how "the little tart was loving it".
After Flint, a third man took her and by the time he'd finished with her Vanessa was already feeling exhausted.
'Could I rest for just a minute,' she begged.
'Stop whining you little slut and get on with it!'
A fourth man took her and by the time he'd come, her pussy felt so tender that she again begged them to let her rest. When they ignored her begging she tried to crawl away but hands dragged her back to where they wanted her.
'Please! I really need to have a rest. My poor little body aches...'
Her pleading just made them laugh.
'Maybe we should give her juicy little pussy a rest? Use her the other way lads!'
'Oh no... don't, please...' Vanessa cried.
'Good idea, pull her down the bed lads so her arse is hanging over the edge!'
'Come on guys... please... I've had enough!' Vanessa protested.
'Hold her still, my turn, come on now you blonde beauty...'
Vanessa was now held still by four eager volunteers as a fifth man pushed his thumb deeply between her buttocks making her whimper and squirm.
'Done this before, darlin?'
Vanessa, lying, shook her head negatively. Secretly a part of her was eager to suffer what was about to befall her, but there was no way she'd ever let on to these animals that she enjoying being treated like this! God, if they knew that, what else might they do to her?
'Come on then honey, time to soften up for us.'
The man twisted his thumb inside her anus, then drew it partially from her before pushing it back in. Soon her muscle was softening under the repeated pressure and then the man withdrew his thumb and drew the globes of her arse apart with both hands.
'You'll get to enjoy it soon enough darlin!'
The man drove his cock into Vanessa's rear making her cry out in protest.
'This isn't fair... please...' Vanessa shook her head and struggled pathetically against the four pairs of hands that held her down whilst the cock slid back and forth, harder and deeper at each stroke.
'God, she's a horny little bitch!'
'Look at her panting, she's loving it!'
Someone grasped her hair and drew her head back. Vanessa felt spunk filling her rectum and then the cock was promptly withdrawn.
'Right, me next!'
'No more... please!' Vanessa sighed, writhing pathetically against the four pairs of powerful hands that held her still.
Ignoring her pleading the sixth man took his turn, driving his cock into her arse with such determined force that she gasped and imagined for a moment that she was going to faint.
'Keep still now girl... come on, not much more...'
The man rode her mercilessly, his cock pumping into her in quick hard thrusts, his balls slapping against her thighs each time his cock sank into her, his hands holding her tightly by her slim waist as she squirmed under the assault.
'Please... not so hard... too much...'
Her pleading though seemed to make the man use her even more harshly and Vanessa cried out as she was brought to a shuddering climax of her own which seemed to vindicate his treatment of her in his own eyes.
'The little tart's loving it! Look at her!'
The man came, and with a groan of satisfaction withdrew from her. Without giving her time to even recover her breath another man took up his place between her spread and held legs and he thrust his cock into her aching body.
'No, stop... please...' Vanessa gasped, almost delirious now after what she'd been put through.
'Come on darlin', that lovely young body of yours has still got some work to do!'
'Can't take anymore...let me rest...please...'
Ignoring her pleading the man drew his cock from her then rammed it back in.
'No! Stop it... no more...'
'Now, if you want us to stop then you've not kept your end of the bargain and it's a whipping you'll get instead, so what's it to be?'
'This isn't fair...' Vanessa sighed, weakly lifting her head and looking around at the men circling the bed.
'Your choice darlin, what's it to be? Three more of us enjoying your lovely little arse or a whipping?'
'No...' Vanessa cried, shaking her head in dismay.
As if to prompt her into choosing, the cock was thrust back into her arse, making her gasp. The man then withdrew before ramming it back into her.
'So what's it to be then darlin'?'
'Three more of you...' sighed Vanessa.
Chapter Ten
Zoe was led by the leash from the auction hall and back to the preparation room. The men were discussing her sale and had obviously been placing bets on which girl would fetch the most money. It seemed that so far Zoe had fetched the highest price, much to the annoyance of one of the men who had banked on the blonde Boston student.
'She should have gone for more; taller with blonde hair, them idiots in the gallery have got more money then sense!'
'Rubbish, this one's far better. That Boston bitch was too young; skinny long legs and no tits. This one's class; nice full tits and eyes like a trapped rabbit; big and round and dark brown, you can see what she's thinking. That American girl'll be nothing but trouble, mark my words; whereas this one, she'll learn to behave and learn to enjoy it. I can tell; she'll come to love the taste of the whip and that's what the buyers want!'
The men led Zoe into the preparation room where the four girls who had been auctioned before her were now being prepared for shipment. The young girl with the pigtails, whose slender body was striped with whip marks, was hanging from a wooden pole braced over two Y shaped rests. She dangled suspended from heavy hemp ropes that were repeatedly bound around her slim wrists and ankles. When the door was opened and the men led in Zoe, the girl lifted her head weakly and looked at her. A ring gag had been jammed into her mouth, stretching her jaws wide. Seeing Zoe, the young girl moaned plaintively, then her head lolled back and she was silent again.
The fiery tempered American was suspended by her ankles, which were cuffed together, from a hook fastened to the low stone ceiling. As well as anklecuffs, her legs were bound together by three leather straps secured above and below her knees and around her thighs. Her arms were held behind her
and drawn close against her back by a strap that was fed around her arms above her elbows then drawn across her chest and buckled above her breasts. A second strap was fastened in a figure of eight around her forearms midway between her wrists and elbows and then around her waist, the strap buckle resting snugly against her belly. As if to reinforce just how helpless she was, she still wore the single leather glove that kept her two hands held palms against each other and was laced up tightly around her wrists. Her slender neck was collared and in addition a ball gag effectively silenced her. For the first time since Zoe had first seen her, she looked resigned to her fate and hung suspended yet making no attempt to escape or object to her plight.
The Japanese girl lay unconscious in the middle of a crate of bananas. She was bound hand and foot, her mouth covered with tape. Two men were piling more bananas over and around her until she began to disappear from view.
The young Swedish girl was far from unconscious. Ball-gagged and bent over a bench, Vanessa could see her bucking and writhing in orgasm as another man took her from behind.
'Right, get the English girl strapped up like the American, they're both going to the same place.'
Zoe knew there was no point in struggling so she allowed herself to be laid on a waist-high workbench and leather straps fastened around her limbs in matching fashion to the Boston blonde who hung upside down, her steely blue eyes watching her with silent sympathy. Once they had her bound, she was given an injection and in no time at all Zoe felt herself becoming drowsy. The ball gag was removed from her mouth. She was already too drugged to do anything and lay docilely as the men prepared her for transportation. For a few moments she managed to keep her eyes open and watched them dealing in a similar fashion with the Boston girl.
* * *
When she came to she found herself lying, still bound, on the floor of a tiny windowless room and it was only when she felt the room tilt and recognised the dull humming noise of propeller engines that she realised she was in an aircraft. The room was nothing more than a large locker or storeroom. Zoe had woken to find herself lying face down and now, to try to relieve the discomfort of being bound, she rolled onto her back. Lying next to her was the American girl, awake and watching her.
'Hi there, welcome back to the wonderful world of reality.'
'We're on a plane,' Zoe groaned.
'We sure are. I'd kinda like to know where we're heading but I guess we'll find out before too long. My name's Christy. What's yours?'
'Zoe. Zoe Farquerson. Forgive me for not shaking hands.'
Both girls managed a laugh and Christy edged herself closer to Zoe then lay on her side and looked at inquisitively at her.
'Is it true you're a British Secret Agent?'
Zoe nodded.
'No shit! How the hell did you end up in this mess?'
Zoe was about to try to explain when the blonde girl shook her head.
'Don't bother, that story can wait for another time. What I'm more interested in is anyone going to get you out of this mess and can you get me out with you too?'
'Christy, I somehow doubt it,' Zoe sighed. 'I was abducted when I was in a Middle East country. I'm sure the organisation I work for would have tried to find me but now... God knows where we're heading now. Rescue is out of the question, our only hope is escape.'
Christy gave a resigned nod then a moment later asked,
'Hey, are your ears popping?'
'Yeah, the plane must be descending, either that or we're going even higher.'
Soon it was evident that the plane was indeed in descent and after a short time the engine noise changed pitch then they felt the first sudden jolt as it touched down. Judging from the continuous bumping as they slowed down, Zoe reckoned that they had landed on a pretty poor runway.
The sound of a key turning warned them that the door was about to open, then a moment later a tall, dark skinned man in a turban stood looking down at them. Satisfied with what he saw he then stepped back and gestured to some men behind him, who came into the room and dragged the girls out.
The plane had landed on a worn out tarmac landing strip, the surface of which was cracked and dotted with weeds and grass. The air against Zoe's skin was hot but she found herself gazing at massive snow capped mountains in the near distance. They had landed in a valley, the landing strip encircled by rolling hills. These were covered with rows of lush green plants, which Zoe guessed to be a tea plantation. The mountains, Zoe realised, must be the Himalayas and that they were somewhere in the foothills.
The two girls were lifted into the back of a truck which set off without delay on a rough track that slowly climbed uphill, gradually revealing a wider panorama. Two young men in tattered clothes sat hunched at the far end of the truck keeping a watch on them; one had an old bolt-action rifle while the other held a long cane. A worn out looking Landrover led the way and slowly the two vehicles climbed uphill until they crossed a pass and descended into another valley. In the distance Zoe could see what looked like a fortified monastery and she began to suspect that this was where they were bound.
Nearly an hour after they had first sighted the massive gaunt building, ringed by its high stone walls, they drove through an archway and into the monastery courtyard. The tailgate of the truck was lowered with a clatter of rusty metal and a cloud of dust.
'Welcome to Shrevra, girls. I am the Colonel, you may recognise my face from amongst the small crowd of prospective buyers who watched you being displayed at Rouassa slave market.'
As the dust cleared they found a man facing them. He looked to be perhaps seventy or perhaps he was only fifty but had spent too long in a harshly sunny location that had wrinkled and tanned his skin so much it was beginning to look like a shrivelled prune. He wore a crisp white linen suit, a paisley cravat and a wide-brimmed Panama hat. He held a silver-topped walking cane in one hand and a pair of white leather gloves in the other. Two young shaven headed men in monks' attire flanked him on both sides.
'Shrevra is a closed religious commune and you have been brought here to serve the higher disciples and the masters. Our commune is founded on beliefs of worship and devotion. You will be taught to worship the masters and you will become devoted to serving them.'
'Bullshit!' Christy swore. 'When my papa finds out where the hell I am, you lot are gonna be in for it! And if you think I'm...'
'Take the American girl and give her a dozen strokes of the cane for voicing her desire to be disobedient. The sooner she learns what is expected from her the better!'
The two natives who had guarded the girls on the journey grabbed hold of Christy and dragged her to the end of the truck where the two young monks lifted her down and carried her across the courtyard. The Colonel looked critically at Zoe, a smile slowly forming across his face.
'Do you wish to voice any objections?'
Zoe hesitated, part of her wanting to avoid any trouble but she was seething with resentment. She had to bite her tongue or she knew she'd tell this arrogant man what she thought of him. He nodded thoughtfully as he scrutinised her then he pointed with his cane to where Christy was being bound between two poles in one corner of the courtyard.
'You feel just like her, but you are afraid to speak out like she has. You may as well share her suffering, then you'll better understand the wisdom of devotion and obedience.'
The man waved his cane in signal and the two monks, leaving the American girl tied between the two poles, returned to the truck.
'This one is going to punish the other girl. Untie her and equip her.'
Zoe was too shocked at first to realise what was happening but soon enough she was standing, unfettered, with a long supple bamboo cane in her trembling hand and staring at her naked and trembling companion. Christy looked nervously over her shoulder.
'Just do it. Just do what they tell you. If you don't they'll only punish both of us,' Christy encouraged her.
'I can't!' Zoe shook her head, gazing in despair at the girl before her. The two poles wer
e about six or eight feet apart with brass rings bolted to them top and bottom. Heavy hemp ropes were tied to each ring and by these Christy was bound by her wrists and ankles and held spread-eagled. Zoe looked around her, trying to find a way out of the situation she had been placed in. Half a dozen young monks stood ranged around in a semi-circle watching and now two older men joined the Colonel. These men, who Zoe guessed must be masters, wore dark green robes as opposed to the brown robes of the young monks.
'Here at Shrevra you will come to understand that to fully appreciate life you must learn to embrace both aspects of our existence: pleasure and suffering. Now, look at me girl...'
The Colonel used the end of his cane to lift Zoe's head by her chin, encouraging her to meet his gaze.
'Christy is younger than you are and as her older sister you must take a hand in teaching her. When she arrived she believed that she would hate it here and she'd hate to serve us. We will now begin to teach her that she can come to love being here. First we must wash her mind with the cleansing fire of pain. A pain that will make her understand that her body is nothing more than an instrument to bring the masters of Shrevra rewards for their long devotion to our community. Give her a dozen strokes of the cane and hit her where she will link the pain to the meaning of her body; the provision of gratification to her masters.'
'I can't do it!' Zoe shook her head.
'Then perhaps, she should teach you?'
The Colonel walked across to in front of where Christy hung spread-eagled. Zoe could see that the young girl was still looking defiant but there was also fear in her eyes.
'My child, you may choose to receive pain or to give pain. Remember though before you answer, there is no escape from Shrevra and until you learn obedience every day will be a painful step on the path to fulfilment.'
'Let me down. I'll whip her!'