by Paul Blades
Ohhhhhhh! Please Master, please dont hit me again, please!
I asked you a question, slut. Answer me! Do you feel my cock?
Yyyyes, Master. Yes! I feel it!
Well, I think it would be appropriate if you begged me to fuck your ass, slut. Its either that or I go get the whip again.
Oh, not the whip again, Master, please. I beg you to fuck my ass! Please fuck my ass! Cheryl sobbed.
All right then. Here we go.
Stoner slowly pressed his cock past the small ring of flesh that served as the portal to Cheryls bowels. As the tender flesh stretched and tore, Cheryl cried out in pain. Stoner was enjoying every second. Theres nothing like the first time, he thought. It never gets any tighter than this.
When he was fully implanted in Cheryls body, Stoner stopped to relish the flush of warmth around his cock and the tightness of the ring of flesh he had so cruelly pierced. Cheryl felt nothing but her own debasement. She closed her eyes and girded herself for the continued assault.
Now that the ring had been breached, the going was easier. Although her sphincter burned with each stroke of Stoners cock, she could tolerate it sufficiently to hold back further tears. Stoner rapidly approached his point of release. As he came, he jerked and convulsed, grabbing hard at Cheryls hips and forcing his meat as deeply into Cheryls bottom as it could go.
Cheryl stayed with Stoner that night, suffering further abuse and torment at his hands. And for the next ten days, she was his center of attention. Finally, the day came when, as he had stated, it was time to fly down to the capital. The three women watched from the bedroom window as they saw the forlorn Sara led to the helicopter by a leash. Stoner entered and the helicopter took off. For a while, at least, they would be spared the worst.
That night, however, Cheryl was led down to the punishment room. At first, when Jeremiah led her bound and gagged down the stairs, Cheryl trembled with fear that he had been instructed to torment her while Stoner was away. It was with some relief when, as she entered the Discipline Room, she saw three black, smiling faces. She was here to be fucked.
The three black men were officers in Stoners little army. They had paid Jeremiah in advance. They would have two hours to play with their leaders newest wife. They would make the most of it.
Oddly, Cheryl did not resent her use by these hulking, fit men. Their arms and legs were strong, their stomachs taut. And they had little interest in causing her pain. No, they wanted her heated with passion for their enjoyment.
As she was laid on her back on the broad bed in the corner of the room, Cheryl felt three pairs of hands stroking and caressing her. Lips sucked at her breasts, engorging her long, fat nipples. Someone was smoking ganja and Cheryl felt smoke blown into her mouth. She breathed it in deeply, welcoming the chance for mental oblivion. When the first cock entered her she moaned with passion. There was laughter in the room, but not the mean, cruel sadistic laughter that Stoner often sounded. These were men at play, and it humored them to hear her respond with pleasure.
After the first two men had penetrated her flushed cunt and filled her with their copious discharge, she was presented with a long, thick, black cock at her mouth. She consumed it readily, driven by the need to satisfy these gentle men. After she swallowed one load of spunk, she circled her lips around another cock. This time, she was raised to her knees and bent over so that she could be plowed from the rear as she suckled the cock before her.
When the evening was done, the men were heartily satisfied. She was given more ganja to smoke and it made her head whirl. She felt drained, yet satisfied, as she ascended the stairs behind Jeremiah. She had lost count of her orgasms, but her body recalled them and their intensity. Taken back to the wives room, she was quickly showered by Jeremiah and then laid gently down on her bed. Her hands were chained to the headboard and she fell asleep, her first calm, restful sleep since arriving at her new home.
Over the next ten days, she was called down to the Discipline Room three more times. Each time she was fucked into a frenzy. Justine and Mary took their turns too. Jeremiah took his turns with her. And twice he brought her down below and tormented her with a whip.
When Stoner returned, she spent the next three nights being abused by him. After that, the other girls had their turns and Cheryl was able to spend some time recovering from Stoners attentions. Each night they all ate dinner together, Cheryl now dressed in an obscene modification of the little black dress she had performed in for the Turk.
As the months went by, her mind still went back to the night of her abduction and the Turks embrace. Did he think of her, she wondered? Was she just one of a hundred women he had captured and sold into slavery? At night alone and chained to her bed, she often fantasized that he would rescue her, claim her. But then the reality of where she was, and the impossibility of such a task, overwhelmed her and she would cry herself to sleep.
***
Three thousand miles away, the Turk was driving his van along a lonely two lane highway in upstate New York. In the cargo section was a large black box containing his abject prisoner. But his thoughts were not on the blond haired, young woman who knelt bound and trussed inside. He was thinking of a kiss that was stolen in the heat of passion from a desperately fearful woman one night many weeks ago. He could still feel the heat of Cheryls body, taste the tenderness of her lips. He remembered how she seemed to melt under him as their hot tongues met. Where was she now? Would he ever see her again? Would possession of her sister, Denise, who was all but her identical twin, sooth and quench his torment?
Turk gripped the steering wheel tightly as he peered into the night ahead. He knew that if he could discover where Cheryl had been taken that he would travel to the ends of the earth, risk all, to make her his own.
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