When Predator Becomes Prey

Authors Note: The following is just a piece of entertaining (Hopefully) fiction, nothing more. The author condemns real life slavery and rape and hopes that those willingly participating and profiting from such crimes are brought to justice: yet this piece differs in that it is fantasy, nothing more.

****

To me, the female body was a thing of beauty: a perfectly sculptured master piece there for admiration and the visual delight of others. Trim, well shaped and with pleasing features surpassing that of the greatest works of art in history, a good woman’s body to me was worth a pot of gold. Sometimes literally. Perhaps it was my fascination and veneration of female beauty, or the way I could make them do whatever I wanted when I had them within my grasp, but for as long as I could remember, I have always enjoyed the thought of making my living with artwork. Female artwork that is.

While the fantasies had started at a much younger age, I entered into my trafficking business roughly when I was out of school, around the age of 18. At first, I started off as a scout: prying through the various nightclubs of my city on the look out for pretty, seemingly alone girls. As the years passed however, I was given more and more responsibilities, eventually coming to the top of my profitable…corporation that trafficked artwork to those depraved and wealthy enough to become one of my clients. At this point, women for me had become little more than walking wads of cash. Although indeed there were women amongst my organization that did the same to men, I found my ability to connect with them on a human level diminishing with the growing numbers of women I sold into slavery, as even female ‘work mates’ took on the appearance of potential slaves, at least in my mind.

All of this however, is history. I used to think of women as a source of income for myself and fellow males, now I sternly believe the opposite, after all don’t they say that behind every great man is an even greater woman? Like many, many other stories of present and past, it started with a girl. Still, the most gorgeous creature I have ever laid eyes upon.

A year and a half ago, almost to the day, I had been amongst one of the privileged few invited to attend the opening of a new art gallery dedicated to the establishment of human rights (The irony was delicious) in war torn countries. I was a friend of the owner after some of my girl’s sold her a pair of high school football quarter backs she now keeps chained up in her basement, and she had wished to thank me in a way by inviting both I and the relevant associates to a congregation that offered me the opportunity to mingle with the cities High Society, and possibly more customers.  It was when I was discussing a piece of art drawn by some wanna-be artist college girl that I laid eyes upon ‘Her’. Although my glance just passed her briefly when I was casually scanning the room, my roaming vision was quickly drawn back to her when my brain registered the possible angel fallen from heaven. Her height was nice for a woman, 5’10 with firm yet feminine shoulders. The hair that crowned her head seemed to me to be made from black silk, falling down to the top of her lower back like a straight ebony waterfall: such a fine mane was complimented by beautiful olive hued skin, the likes of which seemed utterly flawless. Her face was no different, a set of full, dark colored lips set amongst her elegant features: lips that, to me at least, seemed designed for the sole purpose of pleasuring a man’s most intimate places. Even her eyes caught my attention from such a distance, lovely, large dark brown eyes that contrasted beautifully with the rest of her trim being. The type of eyes a man could stare into and lose his place of time for hours on end, utter pools of fascination. Judging from first impressions, I estimated that she did enough exercise to remain healthy and maintain her weight, so while she was not an athletic girl she was still well-figured. Due to my limited vocabulary, I have found that to describe her fully in a method that did her appearance justice is a task simply beyond my capabilities. Judging from the way she looked, I could tell that she was from the Mediterranean area, the birthplace of many fine looking females indeed. To my reasoning, I knew a creature of such splendor belonged with a collar and leash around her neck as to allow her to be tied to a man’s bed.

The woman I was currently talking with was a bore: an elderly woman with the appearance of a cultured bush pig trying to pass off as marginally intelligent. In the middle of one of her many meaningless sentences about topics I didn’t give two rat’s arse’s about, I simply left her in search of what I hoped to be the trophy catch of my career. Getting to her was no easy task, as I wasn’t the only male in the room using my dick as a compass, as I irritably had to wait a few moments for the female to whisk aside the first set of potential suitors. Much to my delight, the first batch seemed to consist of all the ‘pretty boys’ amongst this congregation’s male population. A good sign that she went for someone a bit deeper than the appealing visage of the face, unfortunately for her I wasn’t the same. Standing within her presence - her elegant, trim frame so close that I could have reached out and slapped her shapely arse -  I smiled gently to her as I tipped my wine glass forward slightly in a sigh of respect.

Much to my delight, she smiled back, if only lightly.

“May I?” I gestured forward with the bottle of Champaign I had picked up on the way over upon noticing her empty goblet: I was rewarded with a small nod and the delight of pouring another glass of Frances finest for her.

“I have not seen you within the city before, generally I am privy to the arrival of all the charming young ladies such as yourself, you must have slipped under the radar somehow…”

A small compliment, a tad sleazy with a pinch of cockiness: a concoction many young women had taken a liking to in the past, much for their apparent misfortune and re-location later.

The good signs continued as she offered a light smile, arching her lovely lips then parting them to speak with a voice that sounded as if it had been spoken by the throat of the worlds finest singer.

“Thank you, I have only been here for a few months, I am currently staying with family”

Italian.

Linguistics may not have been my strongest point, and though she spoke fluent and easily understandable English, I could definitely detect the touch of an Italian accent.  I remember encountering one Italian woman before in the past, and I had had the pleasure of hearing her moan and speak with the beautiful accent the Italian women are gifted with. An even better turn of events that I shall get to encounter another.

“Johnethan Anderson” I stated with another small, warm smile, extending my hand.

To my surprise, she grasped my hand with a firmness I would not expect from her elegant frame. The first of her many deceptions. Yet I also could not help but notice the softness of her skin, and the creative thoughts of were else the use of such lovely fingers could be applied.

“Andrea Osirio, pleased to meet you” she replied, her dark, enchanting eyes shimmering like obsidian in candlelight.

While I should have registered the instant warning, I did not. Thinking back to my one chance to avoid future downfall, I can think of nothing but what a fool I was to ignore the first and only cautionary signal I was to receive, as well as cursing the one true moment my memory needed to work, yet didn’t. Osirio was a name that I should have recalled in an instant.

“What a lovely name…” I said, keeping the air of warmth about me as best I could “...from the sounds of it I would say you are from, Italy?”

Andrea nodded, those lovely dark eyes hiding behind them the creatively sinister mind I would learn to fear.

“My family is from Sicily, and I have come over here in the hope of finding employment”

So she was a potentially working class girl. The darker corner of my mind – that is the majority of it – mused that I could give her life long employment if she so wished.

“What field are you seeking work in?”

“Biochemistry, I finished my degree last year. My parents allowed me to stay with them for a year of relaxation, before I came here to seek rewarding employment”

Stunning and brainy: by default I considered all females inferior to males, and while this delicious piece of meat was no exception, I could tell that her company for the night was at least going to include an intelligent conversation. The least could be said about the other, less subtle gold diggers hanging around the bar like vultures.

I put on an impressed face, part of which was genuine. In return I received what I could tell was a favorable glint in her eyes from seeing it in the orbs of so many other women her age in the past. I could have flashed a toothy grinned right there and then: she was a posh slut. My favorite type of woman to sell.

After years of practice at wooing women – younger women like her especially – I had learned the various different approaches a man could take to gain access to ski the pink slope, and this Italian beauty was no exception. 3 hours later, Andrea and I burst into one of the women’s cubicles in the rest rooms, locking the door behind us as she feverously worked on the removal of my pants.

I did nothing but stroke that lovely hair of hers, its touch akin to the softest materials man could make, while the young Italian pushed me down onto the toilet behind me, my pants and boxers around my ankles. Before my semi-hard prick could register the sensation, Andrea already had my dick in hand, her elegant fingers wrapped around the thickening meat shaft and stroking up and down with seemingly expert skill. I could feel my heart beat racing, as was the welcome side effect of adrenaline when a man was about to get his prick sucked by A grade meat.

“You get this sucked often?” She spoke, her accent furthering my erections enthusiasm. Even now I watched as her stroking hand was dwarfed by my peckers 10 erect length.

Through a soft moan I nodded, a “Never enough though” added in to spark up a smile across those heavenly lips, her naughty smirk indicating my success. In truth, I had lost count of the amount of young women I had fed to the monster between my legs: hundreds, possibly thousands. I had the privilege and pleasure of screwing each and every female slave that was sold to domestic or over sea’s buyers, a precaution that I liked to take for ‘Quality Reasons’.

Andrea’s smirk remained as her pumping hand came to a stop, clasped around my knob as she dived her beautiful face in nice and low to press her lips against the bottom of my shaft where she began to kiss upwards. Just as I had imagined, those gorgeous chops of hers excelled when utilized for dick sucking purposes, and the tingling sensation that ran through my cock when she kissed the knob of my prick was second to none.

The Italian continued, kissing around the rim of my German helmet before I saw her tongue slide gracefully out from behind her lips and repeat the process of licking the rim with the tip of her tongue. Such a tantalizing tease echoed twice fold as I soon felt her lash the tip of my cock with her experienced tongue. I could easily tell that this little whore was a tease of the nicest order, as I could only watch with enthrallment as those succulent lips inched closer and closer to wrapping themselves around any part of my fully erect member. Taking her mouth down to the base of my penis, I closed my eyes amidst the growing pleasure, feeling the fullness of her tongue press against my dicks base and lick straight upwards until it came to the head. My prays were finally answered, when she kept her tongue pressed against the sensitive flesh and took it into her hungry, wet mouth, the sneak peek I took causing my balls to tingle as I spied how beautiful her lips looked wrapped tight around a thick cock.

Pushing her head down, Andrea greedily took more and more inches into her hungry maw, finally stopping when I felt the head of my dick press against the back of her tight throat. However it didn’t last for long, as she moved her head back up, sucking firmly with the skill of a porn star while her tongue danced beautiful patterns across the shaft of my cock. She continued, bobbing her stunning head up and down on my dick, the wet sloppy sounds her mouth made as she sucked and slurped like a pro’ serving as music to my ears.

Andrea stopped sucking suddenly, took my dick out of my mouth and spat on it: a nice large gob of woman-spit splattered across the already gleaming cock. At this point I thought she was about to turn around and join the countless number of girls that had given themselves to my one eyed monster, but she didn’t. Grabbing my length, she pumped her hand up and down, splashing wet spit and mouth-juice around my balls, cock shaft and her hand, creating a nice large wet mess that she was going to clean up with her lovely mouth. Instead, I watched with at first confusion, then delight as she continued pumping my cock with her hand, only to dive her face lower. Moments later, I felt those stunning lips press against my asshole, and shortly after a few blissful moments of sucking, I felt her tongue follow suit.

Still holding a handful of her hair, I noticed that my spit saturated dick and balls pressed against her beautiful face as she sucked and licked my arse. As she moved her face from side to side with her skillful sucking and licking, I watched my balls smear her own spit over her face like a wet paintbrush in such a demeaning way that I knew this beautiful whores destiny was as someone’s fuck toy. If I had thought the wet slurping noises had been loud before when she was sucking meat, obviously I had been wrong: I was surprised people out in the foyer didn’t hear this little slut-pig slurp like a half-submerged fuel pump. 

Pulling her head back with my hold on her hair, and her lips away from my arsehole, I watched her shocked face stare back at me in surprise, probably wondering if she had done something wrong. Quite the contraire, she was shaping up to be part of my A grade kennels.

I ended her surprise with a slap across the face with my dick: the wet sound mimicking a wet fish slapping the pavement. In her eyes however, I could still see shock: obviously no one had ever done this to her before. No one would have dared insult such a beautiful creature, lest she stop the sinful pleasure she was visiting upon them. ‘Get used to it slut…’ I thought coldly with another slap to her stunning face, then another, and another. Each slap splashed more spit over her lovely olive features, her beautiful face glistening now with the saliva from her own mouth after it had been smeared across my dick. Pulling her head back so that she could only look up at the ceiling – if she still had her eyes open, which she didn’t, thanks to some stray splashes of spit – I ran my slippery cock along the natural chasm created by her now vertical lips. Still holding the base of my dick, I slapped her lips with my dick once, twice, and a third time, watching after each slap as she attempted to wrap her lips around my shaft.

“Beg for it…” I commanded, utilizing my position over females as a member of the male gender.

“P, p, Please, let me…”

“You call that begging? I said beg, not ask you little slut…”

I followed the semi-threat with another Turkish Slap, this time my knob landing right on her closed right eye, causing her to wince.

“P, Please, please let me suck on your cock sir! I need to suck on it so – “

I cut off her pathetic attempt at begging by shoving the shaft into her mouth, causing her to gulp deep enough that for a moment I thought I could turn her around and see my dick coming out the other side of her neck.

Using my hold on her head via her hair which I held like a pair of handle bar’s, I pulled her down hard onto my cock, the head hitting the back of her throat before I pulled her up again, only to repeat the process. I watched the power of cock work its way through her mouth and throat: at times choking her, other times letting her breathe, but all the time pleasuring me. I listened to her choking and almost gagging, taking great pleasure in her willingness to humiliate and demean herself so I could cum. A definite slave.

5 minutes of this passed. 5 minutes of her constant choking, coughing, spluttering, near-gagging and slurping over my dick, and it wasn’t much longer after this that I felt my balls tighten in anticipation of spreading my seed onto yet another female.

Getting her on her knee’s as ‘normal’ before, I held her hair roughly while she pulled me off aggressively, as if trying to pull the cum out of my balls in the fastest time possible.

“Do you want to suck it again whore?” I asked coldly upon the brink of my cumming.

The slave dealer inside me grinned as she nodded frantically, her large brown eyes wide with anticipation.

“Oh yes, yes please” was her spluttered response as I pulled out a card and slid it into the cleavage created by the pair of luscious, firm mounds on her chest: just like a credit card swiping during the purchase of a product.

“Turn around…” I said amidst a controlled gasp on my behalf.

She hurriedly obeyed, turning around and facing the cubical door as I stood just behind her, roughly pulling my cock.

It was only when I blew my heavy load that she realized where it was going, and by then it was to late.

“Noo!!” Andrea shrieked, trying to pull away in the nick of time. She might have as well, if I hadn’t of been holding her in place for my massive load to splatter all over her beautiful hair.

“No….no…” The Italian beauty whimpered helplessly, a few tears rolling down her cheeks as I shot my last few white, sticky jets across her silky raven colored hair. 

Turning her around, her face still contorted by her whimpering and the beginnings of weeping – I probably would have to if I had was a female and just received what she had – I mercilessly shoved my long, meaty pecker down her throat again. It needed to be clean before I put my pants back on, and her mouth and throat were the perfect tools for the job.

I was not as gentle as I was before, as I full on deep throated the broken posh slut, my balls slapping against her wet chin. I got all my 10” down the bitches throat, and I held her there, waiting. It was only moments later that I noticed Andrea’s chest starting to convulse at around the same time her throat began to seriously constrict around my cock like a firmly squeezing hand. Knowing these signs, I only pushed harder, pressing her nose into the thick curls of pubes above my dick.

Pulling out at the last moment, Andrea’s fingers rushed up to her spit stained lips as she desperately threw herself towards the toilet. Naturally I was no longer watching, my job was done and I had just finished pulling my pants back up and fastening my belt when the sounds of violent gagging came to my ears. With my back turned to Andrea, a smirk crossed my face: another posh slut broken and taught a lesson in which gender was superior.

“Call me, my numbers on the card” I said calmly, fully confident from her eagerness previously that she was going to call. If not, well, I could always track the whore down.

I left the rest rooms then: leaving behind me Andrea, her head in the toilet gagging from the deep throat she had just received, half of her beautiful long silky black hair covered with sticky warm cum, tears rolling down her face from her humiliation, her mascara smeared and running, and her stunning face saturated with her own cock-soaked spit.

Had Andrea been any other girl, I would have gone home, pulled off over the image then tracked her down and done it to her all over again before selling her to the highest bidder in Eastern Russia.

Unfortunately for me though, I had had my fun: coming soon was her’s. I just didn’t know it yet.