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“One more time, tell me your fucking code name!” The police chief's stone-faced demand was once again met with defiance.
It had been two days now since Peggy McKloskey had been arrested while preaching her mission message to the attentive congregation. Since her enforced incarceration, she'd been stripped, severely spanked and whipped, as well as stringently tortured (clamps on her nipples and pussy lips) for her refusal to divulge the name her captors repeatedly demanded to know. In particular the burly chief had grown increasingly impatient of the woman who'd kicked him in the groin in a futile attempt at escape.
At this very moment, however, the lean, amply endowed damsel was tied face up to a wooden table with her wrists anchored securely to each corner with strong cords. Her legs were raised high and wide with ankles tethered to metal rings that were dangling from the ceiling by a set of strong chains. Her body ached from the continuous punishments inflicted on her, and she felt utterly debased from the fact that these horny men were gaping at her most intimate body part.
Just then she espied the broad, dark face of the chief who was peering down at her from between her legs. “Your such a stupid cunt!” This verbal degradation had grown commonplace along with the physical abuse. They were determined to break her and she was just as determined to keep her silence.
The chief then looked over to one of his deputies. “Begin!”
The tall, dark faced deputy took the chief's spot and held a short, black whip with six cow hide strands extending from a smooth black handle. Leering down at her wide open pussy, he drew back his arm and snapped all six strands swiftly and precisely onto her left inner thigh. She howled and jerked as angry red stripes immediately appeared. A matching swipe on her right inner thigh produced an identical reaction. Another lash an inch from the initial one landed on her left thigh. The flagellator matched that one with another on her right one. Then methodically, he alternated thighs, each time getting closer and closer to her sensitive juncture.
The chief then reached down and took the ballgag out of her mouth. “Want to tell us now?!”
“NO!” She shrieked through blinding tears.
“Dumb cunt!” He replaced the gag and stepped away.
The man wielding the whip appeared again. A sadistic grin crossed his face as if the burly man was hoping she'd hold out. Then he drew back the menacing looking implement and snapped the lashes devastatingly in the center of her wide open womanhood. The searing sensation showed immediately in her eyes as she jerked wildly and shrieked into the gag. Never in her life had she experienced such agony.
Fearing another blow to her pussy the desperate woman looked up at her captors and mouthed something inaudible into the ball that covered her mouth. The chief removed the gag and she blurted out, “Hellfire!”
The dark face of the chief then smiled sarcastically. “Now that wasn't so hard, was it?”
***
Hours later, Peggy McKloskey was lying hogtied on her stomach in the back of a rickety wooden wagon, wearing two skimpy pieces of clothing that barely covered her breasts and crotch. At this moment however, she felt utter indignation and betrayal and this bumpy, turning ride only added to her misery.
After that brutal interrogation they had led her to believe that she would be released. She thought about how great it would be to be back in The States again.
Her elation abruptly changed however when she stepped outside and a blanket was thrown over her head. She resisted strongly but her wrists and ankles were quickly cuffed, a ball gag was shoved into her mouth, a blindfold was put in place and she felt herself being lifted. That's how she got into her present position.
She heard two sets of feet scamper onto the ground and she could sense their eyes leering at her thinly covered rump. The rope binding her wrists to her ankles was untied, then her ankle cuffs were unhooked. Her wrists remained cuffed as they lifted her out and stood her on the ground.
Thoughts of escape disappeared quickly when she saw how big and muscular these two men were. A leather collar was placed around her neck, then a leash was attached to the ring. One of the men then yanked on the leash, forcing the brown haired, gagged woman to follow him. He led her into a one-story red brick building, which was part of a large compound that was surrounded by a six-foot wooden fence.
Peggy was finally led into an office with maroon carpeting with a large mahogany desk. Behind the desk sat a slender dark skinned woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. Her long braided hair cascaded down to her shoulders and her brown eyes seemed to want to penetrate Peggy's forehead. Once the native of Connecticut was standing in front of this authoritative looking female, the burly man removed the leash, but left Peggy's hands bound and mouth gagged.
“Very good, Tom. I'll take it from here.”
The man nodded while returning a wide smile. “Anytime Ma'am.”
“I'll see to it that you get your proper reward later,” she said with a lascivious leer that conveyed an obvious meaning.
After Tom left, the lady rose from her desk, which visibly demonstrated her intimidating height. Peggy is no short lady, but this woman towered over her. The lady's smooth, dark skin seemed as smooth as velvet and there didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on her. Her well developed breasts were covered in a black leather blouse that showed plenty of cleavage. A matching pair of shorts encased a firm, shapely bottom. Her long sleek, muscular legs appeared to go on forever and her feet were bare.
“Welcome Ms. McCloskey, my name is Coura, but you will always address me as “Ma'am.” She said this while coming around to the front of her desk and facing the spy who had entered the country under the guise of a “Missionary.”
“I will remove your gag so you may answer when I ask you any questions, but first there's something I must do.”
Then as the tall, wiry woman peered down at the almost naked American, she swiftly brought her right foot upward, catching Peggy directly in the center of her thinly covered crotch. Caught completely off guard, the bound woman cried out painfully as she sunk to her knees, then laid on her side in a fetal position. Writhing in excruciating discomfort she heard the verbal debasement as the African woman glared down at her. “We don't like fucking spies in our country! What you just got was my personal feeling toward your fucking activity. A missionary? You fucking bitch! You may also consider that to be payback for your assault on the chief!”
Perversely, the authoritative autocrat enjoyed watching the spy-bitch suffer, then finally ordered her to get on her knees. Slowly and painfully Peggy managed to obey the command. But the strong woman gave her no respite as she yanked on Peggy's hair and forced her head backward. Coura's face was an inch away. “You should feel lucky that a kick to your cunt was all you got bitch! I could still fucking kill you so don't fuck with me!” Coura's eyes blazed. As Peggy looked up into the woman's eyes she could tell she meant business. The ache in her scalp along with the throbbing pang between her legs were prime reminders not to give this woman any trouble.
Coura then released her grasp of Peggy's locks. “I will now remove the gag, but you don't speak unless I ask a question”. The brown haired still suffering, kneeling woman merely nodded.
Coura then sat on the front of her desk and gazed down her. “You're probably wondering why you are here.” Peggy silently affirmed the statement. “You do realize that we could've had you executed or incarcerated for a very long time.” The attentive woman's face reddened, but kept silent. “We made a plea agreement with your agency.” Peggy frowned. “We would neither kill you, nor send you to prison... but we will train you to be a sex-slave!”
That pronouncement hit the appalled late-twenties brunette like a ton of bricks. “WHAT!?” She blurted out, not caring about what she'd just heard about not speaking unless asked a question. “AN AGREEMENT!?”
The slap across her face came instantly.
Peggy gritted her teeth and her nostrils flared as the strong woman once again held the rebellious lady by the hair. “I AM NOBODY'S FUCKING SEX-SLAVE!”
The hard backhand snapped her head sideways. Coura then spoke into her two-way radio. “I need help in here!”
When Tom and his companion Johannes entered the room, Coura ordered them to drag “this recalcitrant bitch” to the whipping post!
***
With her wrists bound by strong rope to the high, upright wooden post Peggy screamed when she felt the lashes hit her between the shoulder blades. They'd stripped her bare but left her legs free. She cringed in anticipation of the next stripe. When it came she screamed and pivoted around, trying to avoid another lash to her back. The next slash, however, landed between her breasts, and she turned around to avoid a repetition, only to have the harsh tails strike in the middle of her buttocks.
There was no escape from the steady, rhythmic strokes as she twisted around on the rope. Peggy's shrieks were met with laughs and taunts as every part of her body was soon covered by red streaks. Seeing a pale skinned young woman whipped was high entertainment for the inhabitants of this compound, which consisted of grounds keepers, cooks and counselors. Coura, who had ordered this woman's sound chastisement, allowed the flogging to continue until the insubordinate bitch was sagging by her wrists.
Peggy was then dragged off to a tent and tied down.
Three hours later the authoritative woman entered the tent that Peggy would call home. The freshly whipped woman was spreadeagled down to the ground and her stripes and red marks were still visible. Coura towered over her supine form and spoke.
“Now let's continue with your indoctrination.” Peggy didn't dare say a word as she glared upward. “As I was saying, you will be trained to be a sex-slave. It's either that or be shot.”
Coura allowed that pronouncement to sink into the other woman's brain. Peggy's face reddened but knew better than to protest.”So what'll it be? Do you want to face our firing squad?”
Peggy swallowed hard and she managed a respectful, “No Ma'am.”
Coura smiled sarcastically. “I didn't think so.”
The naked American remained silent.
“Therefore,” the dark faced lady continued, “as I said, we will train you to be a sex-slave.” Peggy's face reddened at the demeaning thought. “In plain English, your body will be used by anybody anytime for his or her pleasure.”
Coura allowed those debasing words to sink in Peggy's brain as well. “You will go through four phases of training. Your first phase, which begins tomorrow morning means you will have scheduled spankings and whippings each day. Your spankings will generally be in the morning with your whippings in the evening. You will be instructed on the proper ways of a sex-slave. You also will be expected to perform menial tasks around the compound. Depending on how you progress, you may graduate to phase two, which means your spankings and whippings are every other day. In phase three they are once a week. If you make it to the fourth phase, the scheduled punishments will no longer be required, but by that time you will expected to comply with anybody's desire for your body.”
Peggy wanted to ask what happens after phase four, but thought better of speaking out of turn.
Coura then looked at Peggy's body and smiled. “You have a very healthy looking set of tits and your toned legs will make you a favorite here.”
Even though some of her rebellious spirit had been whipped out of her for now, Peggy was clearly repulsed by what she was hearing, but she didn't dare say anything.
Then Coura's face turned grave. “By the way, any attempt at escape will result in you being shot immediately!” Peggy gulped again. “Oh, and one more thing, you can be disciplined for any infraction by anyone in the camp. The whipping you just received was a prime example! Any such punishment can be meted out at any time and would be separate from your regular spanking and whipping. Do you understand?”
Peggy felt utter indignation and couldn't believe this was happening to her, but she had little choice but to give a sincere, “Yes Ma'am,” to the question.
“Your training will begin formally at 6am sharp, when you will be aroused by your trainer.”
Trainer? She thought to herself. Coura read her mind. “That's right, trainer. That person will be your immediate supervisor and the person who will recommend that you pass to the next phase. So it's in your best interest to cooperate fully with your trainer!”
The tall dark faced woman then stood directly over Peggy's face and leered at the trussed up American spy. Straddling her, Coura lowered her own leather covered crotch so her juncture was only a few inches from Peggy's mouth. Coura then grasped the other woman by the hair holding her face upward. “Look at my cunt, bitch! Very soon you will expected to eat it!” Peggy cringed from the shooting pain in her scalp, but with that savage whipping still fresh on her mind didn't dare voice any objection.
Coura then left the tent, leaving the still spreadeagled Peggy to wonder about what was just explained to her. How the hell could this be? Why was somebody from her agency not there? Why was she not rescued from these barbarians? She was told that there'd be no trouble when she agreed to this operation. Somebody had betrayed her but she wasn't sure who.
Peggy was left alone for the rest of that afternoon until supper time. At that time a man entered her tent. He was short in stature but had massive shoulders and bulging muscles that rippled underneath his white, cotton pullover shirt that had a low v-line. He wore a pair of khaki shorts that seemed to contrast with his dark skin. Well-developed thigh and calf muscles made this man seem like a sumo wrestler.
A chill went up her spine as he peered down at her. “Hello Ms. McKloskey,” he uttered in a clear voice. “I'm Akeem, your trainer.”
Initially Peggy was astounded by his calm, resolute manner. He looked like someone who could break her in half if he so desired, yet the tone of his voice conveyed to her a well-educated person. His African accent was mixed with a bit of a British characteristic. Perhaps he had been educated in England.
“Are you feeling better?” he inquired as he stooped to free one of her ankles.
“Yes Sir,” she answered calmly, grateful that someone actually cared.
“That was quite a brutal whipping you took,” he continued as he freed her other ankle. “That should be a lesson for you. Don't fuck with Coura!” Akeem said as he untied the rope around Peggy's left wrist while raising both eyebrows.
Peggy swallowed hard. “Yes Sir.”
Once she was completely free of her bindings, she was ordered to her feet. She was grateful when he allowed her to don the two pieces of apparel that had been stripped from her before her whipping, but on the other hand, they almost seemed irrelevant since everybody there had already seen her naked.
Thoughts of escape that instantly flashed across her mind quickly dissipated when she remembered Coura's warning about being shot. Peggy wasn't sure if that was true, but she wasn't going to push it.
She stood still as the wide-bodied man put the collar back around her neck and attached a leash. In addition he cuffed her wrists behind her. At that point he reached for her hair and with a meaty paw gripped her brown locks tightly. Forcing her head back much like Coura had done, he widened his eyes and spoke softly but clearly.
“I will be the best friend you will have here!” Peggy cringed from the shooting pain in her scalp, but kept her eyes glued to his. “Nobody will fuck with you as long as you're with me. But if you screw up, I will be your worst enemy. Do what I tell you with no sass and you will be fine. Is that clear?”
“Yes Sir,” she replied painfully.
“Now it's time for supper. Let's go!” Releasing her hair, he then pulled on the leash, leading her out of the tent toward the dining hall. As he led his new charge some whistles and catcalls accompanied their trip. “Pay them no mind,” he told her. “They always act that way when fresh meat is brought in.”
It appalled Peggy to be referred to as “fresh meat” but she kept her mouth shut and followed the thick-necked man. Going through the chow line she overheard some lewd remarks obviously aimed at her. She couldn't ascertain all of what was said, but she did detect the words, “cunt” and “slut.” Grateful for the wholesome food and a chance to actually sit down at a table, she eagerly enjoyed the repast. She was also thankful that Akeem was with her.
Once finished with the well balanced meal Akeem led her back to her tent. He told her that he wouldn't tie her down again, so she could go to the latrine if she needed to. But she was not to go anywhere else, because if she did, she would be shot immediately by their well trained snipers.
It was also explained to her that bedtime was 9pm, no exceptions. Akeem did bring her some books and magazines so she could read under the light of the lamp. Yes they did have electricity here.
Peggy was left alone for the rest of the evening so she read some of a book that Akeem left her. It was entitled “The Marketplace” by Laura Antoniou which was about four young people who were erotically trained to be slaves. She was so enthralled by it, she read half the book before she heard the lights-out siren.
*
At precisely 6AM the next morning Akeem entered her tent unannounced. “Get your ass up!” He barked, sounding like a drill sergeant. A groggy Peggy peered up at him through slitted eyelids and groaned irritably. “You have exactly twenty minutes latrine time! Do whatever you have to do and be back here! If you're not back here in twenty I will come looking for you! Don't make me do that!” Slowly, she managed to rise on wobbly legs. “By the way,” he continued. “This is the first and only time I will tolerate you not being up and kneeling in front of your tent when I arrive in the morning. Failure to comply will mean immediate chastisement!” Looking at the menacing looking strap hanging from his belt, Peggy assented quickly.
She was also thankful for the running water, shower and commode in the latrine. Akeem smiled when she returned on time.
He also wondered whether she caught a glimpse of his hard-on. Damn this lady was really built, he thought. He would definitely have her, but for now he must keep his mind on his duties.
He called her to attention in front of her tent and spoke to her officially. “First, you will report to our physical activity director for your morning exercise. This is a daily requirement, no excuses. After that, it's breakfast. Then I will give you some personal time. If you need to use the latrine, you should take it then. After that, you will receive your initial, daily spanking. Then it's to the classroom for some hands-on instruction on how to properly perform as a sex-slave. Then after lunch you will be assigned a menial task to keep you occupied. Your first scheduled whipping will be at 4pm. After which you will be given another personal break. Then it's dinner.”
Peggy watched his face as he explained all this, reacting negatively toward the mention of spanking, whipping and the sex-slave training. Even though she was grateful that he fully explained all this, she was outrageously repulsed by this whole thing.
In addition he forewarned her that any screw ups or acts of insubordination could result in immediate punishment that could occur at any time. She had already experienced that reality.
Akeem then took hold of her leash and led her through the early sun-lit morning. They passed some brick buildings and an old wooden barn where they came upon a large grassy field. Peggy saw a woman standing in front of a solid stone block that stood about six feet off the ground and was about three feet wide. The squared-jaw woman was just as tall as Coura, but much more muscular and beefier. She was wearing a white halter that comfortably held her well-developed breasts and a pair of skimpy white shorts. Her dark body contrasted sharply with her attire that included a pair of white Reeboks
“Bring her over here Akeem!”
When the stocky man brought Peggy face to face with her exercise trainer, the lady nodded to him. “Remove her cuffs and collar. You may leave her with me. See you in an hour Akeem.”
“Take good care of her Velda.” Akeem smiled as he ambled away.
Standing in the cool morning grass, Peggy felt a bit uneasy with her protector gone, but soon was brought to attention by the penetrating brown eyes of this imposing individual standing in front of her.
“This is your first of many mornings you and I will spend together,” the leisurely clad lady announced in a strong African accent. “Let's hope this is a pleasant meeting.”
The slender brunette, although she had been trained in martial arts, decided it was best not to challenge this woman. Peggy merely answered, “Yes Ma'am.”
“Very well then, let's start with twenty jumping jacks.” Peggy accomplished that with no problem. “Okay, now get down and give me twenty push-ups.” No problem. The well-conditioned spy performed the task easily although she did break a sweat.. “Very well, twenty more.” Peggy managed it but she definitely felt the strain in her muscles. Assuming she was done with that, she was stunned when the African lady barked out, “Twenty more.” Feeling sudden pressure, Peggy struggled in a heroic attempt to comply, but by the time she reached ten, her muscles gave way and she collapsed to the ground.
Hoping the other woman would have mercy on her, those hopes were dashed when she felt the painful and sudden pull on her hair. She screamed as she felt herself being propelled like a rag doll until she was across the lap of this big woman who was now sitting in a metal chair. Peggy's shorts were yanked to her ankles and a strong arm held her in place as her backside now pointed toward the sky. She yelped when she felt the meaty hand repeatedly make contact with her round, bare bottom. Up, down, left and right the blows rained. Peggy cried out as the searing swats gave her no respite. The captured spy completely lost count how many spanks she received, and her ever reddening bottom felt like it was on fire.
Finally, the strong woman ordered the now suffering American to her knees and berated her for being a wimp and that she would be expected to do one hundred push-ups before she is released. In addition, the exercise session continued. Sit-ups, leg lifts and abdominal pulls were executed under Velda's strict direction.
Akeem then returned. Peggy's wrist cuffs and collar were put in place as he led her to the dining hall for breakfast. More leers, crass comments and snickers accompanied her walk through the chow line by the male servers.
After breakfast Peggy was allowed some personal time, during which she reflected on her situation. Akeem really wasn't such a bad person, although she hadn't given him a reason to use that old strap he kept dangling from his belt. But how the hell could somebody in her agency allow this to occur? She was sent over here to find about this country's resources, particularly whether or not they had any uranium stored up. Everything would be fine, she was told. Now this. She felt like she was in a boot camp for sex-slaves. Somebody better have a damn good explanation for putting her through this, for she was not like a slave in a marketplace wanting to be bought by some upper crust owner.
Just as she came out of her reverie, Akeem took her by the leash and led the willowy brunette to another area of the camp. By then the hot sun was blazing away and Peggy was particularly relieved to be led into an air-conditioned building. He led her down a long narrow corridor until they arrived at a white door with no marking.
Peggy was astounded by what she saw. Strong chains hung from the ceiling, ominous looking bondage devices stood motionless and menacing looking whips and paddles were suspended by hooks on one wall. When he led her to what appeared to be an old sawhorse that was sturdily built with black leather padding in certain places, she gasped.
“Lean over!” Akeem commanded..Having never experienced anything like this before, she looked at him, befuddled. “The long way,” he said with a sarcastic snicker. When her lean frame was prone across the wooden plank, with her arms and legs extended over the front and back, her rounded bottom was presented in such a convenient manner that the purpose of this device was plainly obvious. After her wrists and ankles were secured, she gasped again when her skimpy shorts were yanked to her thighs.
“I see you were a bad girl this morning at P.T., but now it's time for you to find out what happens to spy-bitches who enter our country under the false pretense of being a missionary!” That reality manifested itself readily when she sensed him walking across the room, retrieving a long leather paddle and returning to where he stood directly over her raised bare rump.
Peggy secretly cursed her employer just before the first thwap landed. She yelped from the suddenness of the blow, which had already been tenderized by her physical trainer, then tried to steel her bottom in anticipation of the next one. The hard leather covered both cheeks while he began a forcefully steady rhythm and the searing heat began rising exponentially. Her ever reddening bottom bounced and shook after each swat. The aghast former “missionary” filled the room with her wails and her tears dripped onto the floor.
When her initial official spanking had finally ceased she laid there unmoving. She can't remember ever being spanked like that even as a kid. And she was going to receive a spanking such as this on a daily basis!? ...”Those bastards!” She said to herself, thinking about the agency that got her into this.
Mercifully Akeem gave her some respite, hanging up the paddle and freeing her wrists and ankles.
By the time she was able to move comfortably it was mid-morning, time for “another kind of training”, is the way Akeem put it. He led her out of one building, immediately into another, down a narrow hallway and into a room that reminded her of an elementary school classroom. It contained a blackboard and rows of chaired desks. Behind her desk sat a dark haired white woman, who was conservatively dressed in a plain white button-down blouse. Her hair was piled on top of her head as she read some papers in front of her. She wore dark rimmed glasses, low on her nose so she could look over top of them. There were no other students in the room as Akeem led Peggy to a seat directly in front of the teacher's desk. At that point the cuffs and leash were removed and the trainer left the room, closing the door behind him..
Nothing happened. Peggy sat with her eyes focused on the woman, patiently awaiting for her to do or say something. When finally the woman's brown eyes looked over her glasses at the native of Connecticut, her pink lips moved.
“How many cocks have you sucked in your life?”
Stunned by the terribly graphic question , Peggy gaped stupidly but couldn't find her voice.
“Do you understand the question?”
“Yes...um...Yes ma'am...um.”
The woman frowned. “Looks like you need some prompting!” She said with an obvious edge to her voice.
When she rose, Peggy could see that the lady was a few inches shorter than the student and she was wearing a navy blue skirt that ended well below her knees and that she had a rather paunchy physique. Peggy gasped however, when she witnessed the woman stroll over to the side of the blackboard and take down a black three-foot long riding crop. Firmly grasping the handle the woman returned and stood directly in front of Peggy's desk
“Stand up!”
Still smarting from the two spankings she'd already received that morning, Peggy decided against giving this woman any lip, but dreaded that menacing looking implement.
After obeying the command, she looked down at the teacher, who barked another order. “Shorts down and lean over your desk!” When Peggy hesitated, the woman's voice rose an octave. “If those shorts aren't at your ankles in two seconds the whipping you received yesterday will seem like child's play!” She complied.
The stern looking woman chided her for being a bad girl this morning, obviously referring to her already reddened bottom. After the woman touched the business end of the crop against the still- smarting, rounded protrusion, Peggy gasped and blurted out, “Five!”
“Five what?”
“Five...c...c...cocks.”
“You've sucked off five cocks in your life?”
“Yes Ma'am.”
“At least your polite and you have some experience, but since you didn't answer fast enough, you've still earned a cropping.”
“Oh please no!”
“Would you rather have a whipping like what you got yesterday?”
“No Ma'am, but not this!”
“Well it's either five right now with the crop or it's the whipping post again. It's your choice.”
The reactive thought of overpowering this woman and running quickly dissipated when she thought about what Chris said about the snipers.
“All right, I'll take the five,” Peggy said in a defeatist voice.
Five searing swats with crop later the spy-turned-student gingerly sat back down and faced the teacher who had returned to her desk, but kept the instrument handy.
“Now,” the dark haired teacher continued. “My name is Irma, but you will always refer to me as “Ma'am.”
The freshly cropped woman felt suddenly like a pimple-faced pupil who's undivided attention was being demanded by this other woman who was close to her in age. What was really galling is that she was also an American.
“Five cocks huh? When was the last time you accomplished that feat?” Peggy's face reddened, clearly taken aback by the query. “Are you in need of further prompting?” Irma asked as she reached for the crop.
“It's been...um...a while ago.” Peggy blurted as if the words were being forced from her lips.
“How long?” Irma pressed obviously irritated by this woman's short memory.
Peggy's eyes darted back and forth nervously, but managed to put her lips together and say in almost a whisper, “Six months.”
“You haven't sucked a cock in six months!?”
“That's right,” she responded somberly.
“Well, you know it's a lot like riding a bicycle,” the woman declared. “But we thought you might be in need of some remedial training,” Irma said as a matter of fact. “The first thing a sex-slave should be able to do is suck a cock on command.”
Peggy was clearly repulsed by this conversation and was even more revolted when one of the men who'd brought her here from the jail walked into the room. Irma watched her student's facial expression as the tall, muscular African man settled into a seat next to the teacher's desk.
“We must find out first hand just how much experience you have,” Irma explained.
Peggy could've feigned ignorance, but the gist of this was transparently obvious. When the man unzipped the front of his jeans, she felt utter indignation. Surely, they can't expect her to perform such an explicit act right here. Then the dreaded words left Irma's mouth.
“I want you to get on your knees in front of him!” When Peggy's mouth dropped, the woman admonished her. “It's either that or the whipping post. It's your choice.” Not wishing to experience another blistering flogging, Peggy reluctantly rose from her seat and embarrassingly dropped to her knees. The woman nodded. “Crawl over to him!” Slowly, one knee in front of the other one, the debased damsel accomplished the task. “Now reach in and take his cock out of his pants.” To emphasize her command Irma picked up the riding crop.
With her nimble fingers now holding his rigid male member, some lurid thoughts went through Peggy's mind. Was it true that black men had bigger dicks than white men? The five cocks that she'd sucked before were all attached to white men. Some of them were quite formidable, but the cock that she was holding presently was definitely the largest one she'd seen or touched.
“Slowly finger the crown,” Irma suggested. The man sighed deeply. “Now slowly move down the shaft.” The dark-skinned man spread his legs even further. “Palm his balls...Yeah that's it.” The man's pelvis began to move involuntarily. “Now go up and down the shaft lightly, then lick the underside of the head.” Peggy obeyed. The man's loud sigh spurred her on. “Take the whole head in your mouth, then slowly go down the shaft. Get as much in your mouth as possible.” The man was in absolute heaven. “Now lick around the head.”
At that point the man grabbed Peggy by the hair and began ramming his solid rocket deep into her oral cavity over and over. Peggy had no choice but to accept this pistoning piece of manhood, while she tried to keep herself from choking.
Irma cheered him on. “Fuck the bitch's mouth Johannes! Yeah that's it!”
The burly man kept it up until he let out a loud cry and threw his head backward as he exploded.
“Drink that cum bitch!” Irma snarled.
When a panting Johannes finally pulled his dripping cock out of Peggy's mouth, the woman from Connecticut felt utterly degraded. Never had she experienced anything like this.
When the man left, Irma affirmed. “You will suck off many more cocks by the time you leave this camp.”
*
While this was happening Coura and Akeem were having a meeting in her office.
“She's going to be a tough one,” Coura said to Akeem as Peggy's trainer looked back at the lady who was in charge of the camp. “I detected a definite aversion to the idea of being a sex-slave.”
“You're right about that Ma'am, but I don't think she's so tough. Besides, I like a challenge.”
Coura's face lit up. “Akeem I have all the confidence in the world in you. If anybody can handle her, you can.”
“Coming from you Ma'am, I consider that to be a supreme compliment.”
“Be at my place at 8, I'll give you my supreme compliment first hand.”
The barrel chested trainer smiled broadly. “Yes Ma'am.”
Coura smiled lasciviously. “Your trainee should've sucked Johannes' cock by now.”
Following lunch Akeem led his charge to another area of the compound. Peggy could see an old stable. Near the open door of the thatched roofed building stood a crusty dark-faced bearded man who wore coveralls.
“Hey Akeem, watchagotthere?”
“Someone new Henry.”
The man's eyes lit up. “Well, ya know I always like new stuff.”
“This is Peggy. She'll be your afternoon help Henry.”
The forty-something medium built man closed one eye and looked from Akeem to the scantily clad white woman. “So this is the spy-bitch, huh?”
Akeem nodded. “Yep, she's the one.”
Henry's face wrinkled slightly. “Too pretty to be a fuckin spy.”
“And too pretty to be a missionary as well.”
“And she's been whupped already.”
“Yep.”
“A spunky one huh?”
“We figured that an afternoon mucking out stalls would do her good.”
Henry leered at the wholesome female body showing the gaps between his teeth. “We got some coveralls for her.”
“Good Henry, I'll leave her with you. You may punish her if she gives you any trouble.”
“She'll be just fine.”
After Akeem left, Henry gazed at Peggy as if he were figuring out where to begin. The brunette wasn't sure she wanted hear what he had to say but she waited patiently for some instructions, even though her nose was experiencing an adverse sensation to the horse manure.
“There are some coveralls and boots hangin on a hook inside.”
Incredulously Peggy looked at him. “Do you really want me to do this?”
Those words no sooner left her mouth when a meaty hand reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair. She winced from the shooting pain in her scalp.
“You will be doing what I say or get a whuppin'. It's your choice!” He said as he touched the heavy leather strap hanging from his belt. It looked even meaner than the one Akeem carried.
“But I've...OW!...never...OW!... done anything...OW!... like this before!”
Letting go of her hair Henry went quickly and grabbed a rake and threw it to her. “Here catch, you'll need this. And put the coveralls and boots on. You'll be needin' them too. Henry then folded his muscular arms, waiting for her to move.
“Do I look like I was made to work in a stable?” She pleaded. The stableman looked at her up and down.
“You surely don't, but then again you don't look like a missionary either. Now, I don't want to hear any more whining. Get to work!”
She caught the smart-aleck reply in her throat, but the thought of cleaning up horseshit was indeed repugnant. Reluctantly she slipped on the coveralls and boots.
*
The warm water felt great on Peggy's body as it washed away the mud and grime. Akeem was kind enough to allow her to take a shower after her afternoon chore of cleaning up horseshit.
She did, however, manage to escape Henry's belt, but Peggy sure felt uneasy by the way the seasoned man kept leering at her. She sensed that he wanted to fling her to the ground, rip her clothes off and poke her right then and there. However, he never touched her except for pulling her hair that once.
Once she was dressed again, Akeem led her back to the building with the bondage gear. This time he made her strip completely and tethered her wrists high over her head with her feet barely touching the floor. He informed her, rhetorically, that it was time for her daily whipping.
She couldn't imagine that this could be any worse than that flogging she took yesterday. Nevertheless, she yelped when the first of the lashes struck her in the middle of her back. Methodically he worked his way down to her buttocks, then with precision covered every inch down to her thighs. Red stripes appeared where the lashes landed, but he never once broke her skin. When he finished, the stockily built man merely ambled over to the wall and hung up the sturdy implement.
Akeem then let Peggy have some free time in her tent before dinner.
During dinner Peggy noticed Velda, Irma and Coura sitting together at a table dining together. While the trainee was standing in the food line she could hear their laughter and could feel their eyes upon her. She, nevertheless, finished her meal while sitting with Akeem, without incident.
After supper her trainer took her back to her tent. To Peggy's surprise he ordered her to strip, kneel and bend over so that her forehead was touching the floor. He began chastising her for the many times during her first day that she had embarrassed him. He explained that it was very important, not only for Peggy to cooperate with the people at the camp, but that it made Akeem look bad if she did not.
Her conveniently protruding, still reddened backside felt the stinging snap of Akeem's strap for the first time. Forcefully, he brought the thick, brown leather down continuously until her unprotected posterior turned crimson.
This was her third spanking of the day. How long could she take this?
As she finally laid their whimpering, he further explained that she would receive these evening thrashings only if she displeased him during the day. So it was solely up to her whether or not they continued.
Once finished Akeem, who was unmoved by her tears, told her she could read until 9pm, then lights out. She could use the latrine if she needed to and that he expected her to be ready for him in the morning.
*
After leaving his trainee Akeem remembered his appointment with Coura. At precisely 8 o'clock he knocked on her door. The tall, wiry lady answered, looked him up and down, smiled wickedly, then turned on her heels so he could follow her undulating, leather clad buttocks into the house.
Exactly one minute later the broad shouldered man was kneeling naked before her. Her black leather blouse crinkled as she looked down at him from her seated throne.
“I'm glad to see your so punctual, slave!”
To be continued.
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