Harem

This is a story I started a couple of years ago but never finished…I was planning to end it after this installment, but have found a newly restored interest in continuing it for a bit.  To those of you who encourage me to continue with it…you know who you are…and thanks.

Harem – Part 12

Slowly regaining consciousness, partly due to the after-effects of Dr. Kizmir’s sedatives, and from the mental and physical exhaustion of everything she had been put through…Peter very gradually became alert enough to realize that she had been taken off of the impalement post that was shoved up her ass, and the mouthful of shit that her Master had stuffed into her oral cavity had liquefied and been swallowed while she slept.  The pacifier gag was still strapped into place, but her rubber burka had been removed, and she lay naked on the floor.

Mehmet sat like a fat self-serving overlord in his throne-like chair and announced how happy he was to finally have his submissive sex slut installed permanently in his home…available whenever he needed her, for whatever purpose he desired.  This was truly a momentous day he continued to announce, and one I am sure you will remember my little whore for the rest of your agonizing existence on this earth.  He went on to remind her that she must always obey his orders without any hesitation whatsoever, for the least display of insolence would be met with swift and terrible retribution.  He then ordered Ahmet to remove the pacifier, and stand the slut up so her Master could get a good look at the good Dr.’s work.

From the shadows, Ahmet appeared as strong as ever, and easily hauled Peter up in to a standing position in front of the still seated Mehmet.  “Very nice” the Master cooed…”very very nice indeed.  I think the good Dr. Kizmir has outdone himself this time do you not Ahmet?”  The manservant nodded his agreement, and allowed for his employer to complete his inspection.  “Please make sure we extend an invitation for Dr. Kizmir to join us for dinner Ahmet – I wish to thank him in person for the wonderful job he has done with this prize little bitch of mine.”  Mehmet was now standing and circling the humiliated and forever altered slutbitch like a vulture.  He first grabbed hold of Peter’s chin with one of his mitt-like hands, and squeezed the slave’s cheeks together without mercy.  With his free hand he played with and pinched the rubbery silicone-injected lips of his slave, commenting casually about how nice the firm tissue would feel massaging the length of his superior Muslim cock.  He let go of Peter’s face, and delivered one quick slap across her cheek that caused her whole head to twist to the side and then back again.  The fat Turk laughed heartily as he gave the injected breast tissue of his cuntwhore the same manual evaluation that he had applied to her face.  Mauling and manipulating the steroid enhanced and silicone plumped boobs of his slut he explained to Peter that Dr. Kizmir had assured him that by now, the ultimate goal that he had set for Peter’s tits should be achievable.  Almost as soon as the thought had passed through his mind, a small pearl of creamy white liquid began to form at the tip of the slave’s left nipple.  Soon after that, the same thing happened to the right side as well.  “Praise Allah” shouted Mehmet, and he began to grip and squeeze the cunt’s titmeat as if in a complete frenzy.  Soon streams of liquid were shooting from Peter’s altered breasts, and Mehmet was fully engrossed with the process of milking his whore…an activity that opened SO many means for the Turkish sadist to exploit and terrorize his human property.

The inspection continued for another 30 minutes, with Mehmet finally being able to tear himself away from playing with Peter’s soon to be jugs so that the remainder of the modifications could be adjudicated.  By the time it was over, the Turkish Master had gripped and stretched the loose lips of his pussyslave’s cunthole, unceremoniously shoved his balled up fist into her snatch…something that now required very little effort indeed and not a drop of lubricant, and yanked both of Peter’s wrists behind her back and forced them painfully but fully into a reverse prayer position.

“Prepare her for tonight Ahmet”, the Master announced – “I cannot wait to show her off.”

The next thing Peter felt was the familiar vice-like grip of the manservant’s hand closing around the back of her neck, and directing her to what would become the space in which she would spend the bulk of her time from this day forward.

Mehmet’s house was a sprawling estate within the city limits of Ankara.  The property had belonged for hundred’s of years to a minor branch of the ruling Ottoman royal family throughout imperial times, but as with all of the rest of the royal properties, had fallen into disrepair and been sold off to by the state to raise funds.  Being one of the nouveau riche in the country, Mehmet had been able to pick up the estate for a fraction of what it was now worth, as he had made many upgrades and modifications.  The entire property was encircled by a 20 foot high rock wall, with an electrified barrier at its peak.  The grounds consisted of sumptuous gardens, pools, and fountains – all of which – as Peter would find out, had been made to Mehmet’s personal specifications.

The apartments that had been renovated for Peter’s arrival, had originally been the harem of the princely original Master of the premises.  As was the custom in Ottoman times, the harem was for the Master’s personal and exclusive use – to be kept out of sight from all intruding eyes.  As such, Peter’s apartments had no windows whatsoever.  It was more like a prison that anything else for the heavily abused slave, and contained within it the facilities for Mehmet to exact almost any enjoyment and therefore torture of his slave imaginable with complete privacy and comfort.  Peter would live a life of abject humiliation, torture, pain, and abuse behind these walls, and a city of millions of people merely a stone’s throw away would never even know she existed.

“Time to get you dressed for dinner bitch” Ahmet announced.  “You can have a good look around your new home later.”

Peter was frog marched into what she would later come to know as her dressing room.  A large open space lined with custom cabinetry and shelving.  Each and every unit of storage was filled with bondage gear and clothing fashioned from rubber, leather, neoprene and steel – all of which had been made to measure for the sissified bitchslave that Peter had brcome.

Ahmet forced Peter into a bondage chair in the middle of the room.  Straps secured her wrists and forearms to the armrest, likewise for her ankles and thighs.  A broad rubber belt was buckled around her waist, and another around her budding breasts, crushing them flat against her chest.  Lastly, heavy rubber collar that was linked by a d-ring to the backrest of the chair was fastened around her neck, done up so tightly that she could barely breath.  Ahmet began the session by informing Peter that Mehmet was having a very important foreign government official come to the estate for dinner tonight.  He would in fact be spending the night at the estate, and it was the Master’s wish that his concubine slut join them both for the evening meal.  He had left explicit instructions as to how Peter was to be attired for the evening.

Ahmet first chose a very small, thick black rubber open-faced hood.  It was stretched over Peter’s hairless head, and zipped closed behind her neck.  The hood was at least one size too small to fit the sexslave properly, and being made of very thick rubber it painfully pressured her temples and the side of her face.  The desired effect for the Master however, was that his pusslyslut’s plumped up injected lips and permanently whore-tattooed face was squashed ever so slightly…increasing the pout in the ruby red rubber lips that would become Mehmet’s personalized coksucking machines.  Next came a blonde wig that was stretched down over the crown of Peter’s head, with long curled tresses that cascaded down to her shoulders.  She would later learn that the dinner guest for the evening was partial to blondes.

With the slut’s make-up permanently done, the manservant-turned-slave-dresser could then focus his attention on the outfit of choice for the evening.  It was a black rubber micro-mini dress, with some very special features indeed.  Firstly, the section of the dress that would normally cover the wearer’s breasts, had been replaced with two open holes edged by thick rubber gaskets.  The midsection of the dress had a built-in corset, and inside the skirt portion of the dress, a crotch strap ran from front to back, which would stretch tightly between the wearer’s legs like a broad rubber g-string.  Ahmet released Peter from the bondage chair, and ordered her to put on the dress.  Once she had stepped into it, and pulled the garment up above her shoulders, Ahmet spun her around roughly and began to zip up the dress to seal the slut inside.  The corset, he decided, would be tightened last, as it would help to cinch in all of the other elements of the dress, and significantly increase the slutmeat’s pain and discomfort level.  Going around in front of Peter’s compliant frame, the big Turk grabbed and mauled at her growing breasts to pull them through the rubber gaskets on the front of the garment.  This made Peter’s tits stick out straight in front of her, and become engorged with blood…turning a very deep shade of red, and causing a deep seated increasing ache in the front of Peter’s chest. 

Peter was then forced to double over, exposing her loose and open cunthole for filling before dinner.  Ahmet desperately wanted to shove either his cock or his forearm deep into the open gash of a pussy that the slaveslut possessed, but he was on a tight timeline and there would be opportunities for that in the coming days and weeks…perhaps years.  The rubber crotch strap of the micro-mini dress was stretched tight across Peter’s taint, but was easily pulled aside by Ahmet as he brought into view the next item of Peter’s wardrobe for the evening.  It was a hard rubber ball, about the size of a grapefruit, oiled and lubed, and ready to be shoved home.  The swarthy sadist palmed the object in his huge mitt, and placed it flush against the opening to Peter’s snatch.  With steadily applied pressure, and a final grunt from deep within Peter’s throat, the hard rubber invader slid home, and Ahmet let the rubber crotch strap once again move into place, preventing Peter from expelling the large sphere that she had just been forced to accept. 

The perverted manservant then hooked Peter’s rubberized body into a dressing frame, so that he could effectively tighten the corset straps.  Usually he liked to place his huge booted foot right in the middle of the slave’s spine to complete such a task, but he also wanted to apply the necessary garments to the slut’s hands and knees, so he needed her upright.  This would also allow him the expel even more air from Peter’s lungs making it harder for her to breathe, since her arms were already stretched over her head.  With every yank, and every pull, the built-in corset of the dress Peter was wearing bit further and further into her flesh, crushing her ribcage and making it increasingly harder to breathe except for small sips of air.  Once the straps were locked into place, Ahmet slid a type of glove over each of Peter’s hands and forearms that she had never seen before.  The glove ended not with five individual fingers, but in a round rubber ball with a flat section on the bottom.  On the interior of the glove was a bar that she could wrap her fingers around and hold on to.  He slut was quite confused about the reason for this new piece of attire until she felt Ahmet strapping heavy rubber knee pads around her legs.  Once released from the bondage frame, the Turkish brute forced her to her hands and knees…where Mehmet would keep her for a good deal of the evening.

Rubber socks with individualized toes were pulled on to cover Peter’s feet, and then her ankles were pushed up and towards the backs of her thighs, where they were secured with rubber strapping.  This would make it impossible for her to do anything other than crawl like a dog until her feet had been released.  The final touch was a pair of black rubber booties with a modest 4 inch stiletto heel that were forced onto her feet, and secured with small padlocks where they zipped up.

The final touch was the collar that Peter was to wear at her Master’s insistence.  Like the rest of her outfit, the collar was made of rubber, but was exceptionally stiff.  It enclosed the entirety of Peter’s neck, and at the front had a shelf that protruded forward, and was perfectly shaped to hold the slut’s chin.  Once buckled into place, it pushed Peter’s head backward and upward, so that she was facing forward, even though she was on her hands and knees.  The pressure at the back of her neck was excruciating, and knowing this, Ahmet smiled broadly.  A broad leather leash was attached to the collar’s d-ring, and that left only one further element of the slave’s outfit for the evening to be put into place.  “Your Master will be in shortly to complete your outfit slut, and to take you to dinner.”

Shortly turned out to be almost an hour before Mehmet came striding into the harem chamber looking for his slave.  Peter was exhausted from the effects that the design of her rubber dress were having on her, and from the extreme position that her neck had been craned back into for a full 60 minutes to this point.  She was almost glad when she heard Mehmet coo and delight at the sight of her all trussed up, on all fours, and ready to be lead to the next installment of her humiliation and degradation.

“You look perfect my pet” he gushed…almost giddy with anticipation of what was to come.  “Our guest has just arrived, and I think it is time that we go to receive him formally for dinner don’t you slut?”  Peter of course could not answer, as the posture collar made it nearly impossible to move her mouth.  “There is only one thing missing of course…you must be able to give our guest a warm and welcoming smile when first you two meet.”  It had been a while since Peter had had to wear the cock-gag replica of her Master’s schlong, but that was exactly what Mehmet was dangling from his hairy meaty hand.  This was the one that had a set of false teeth fused to the base of it, so that once it was rammed home, it would look like Peter still had all of her teeth, disguising temporarily the cock-sucker gap in her face that had been created by Dr. Kizmir’s dental extractions.  “Now my dear, how should we lube this up so that you may swallow it a bit more easily hmmmm?”  The question was of course rhetorical as Mehmet had already decided exactly what he wanted to use to help slide the mammoth gag right into his bitch’s throat.

“Do you see this flask my little whore?” Mehmet asked.  He had brought with him a glass beaker, filled with a gelatinous gooey substance.  “You see cunt, I indulge myself with many interests here on my estate, and in addition to having a little slutpuppy like you to use as my personal toy and plaything, I do enjoy keeping and breeding fine Arabian horses.  You should feel honored, because not only am I going to lube up your precious gag in the shape of your Lord and Master’s cock with this container of chilled horse cum, but I am even going to let you drink the rest of it as an extra little treat for you this evening.”  With that pronouncement, Mehmet swirled the thick rubber phallus around in the semi-congealed animal spooge, and then proceeded to tip the glass beaker towards Peter’s mouth, insisting that she swallow everything like an obedient little slut-wife unless she wanted to spend the evening in a punishment session with Ahmet instead of at dinner with her Master and his honored guest.  Had she known what was in store at dinner, she may well have chosen to be worked over by Ahmet instead.  Peter chose however, to submissively gulp down the foul brew of equine sperm to the last drop that was fed to her, before feeling her Master drive home the rubber throat-stretching gag, sealing it in so that behind her permanently open and pouted lips it looked like Peter had a pearly white smile of contentment…even though she was in agony.

“Now slut, we go to dinner.”

Mehmet strode through the house, confident, carefree, truly the king of his castle.  Crawling as fast as she could with the gag invading her throat, and the posture collar pushing her head as far back as it would possible go, Peter could barely keep up.  When they reached a small set of three stairs going downward, Mehmet hopped from the top to the bottom, and then yanked on Peter’s leash so that the slave came careening down the steps, landing at the bottom in a heap.  Grinning, Mehmet continued and actually dragged Peter along by the neck for several feet until the sluthole was able to right herself and continue crawling.  Eventually, the pair entered a small sitting room, opulently decorated with rich tapestries, Turkish carpets, and ornaments from around the world.  Sitting smartly in one of the wing chairs Peter could not help by notice a thin wiry Chinese man who stood immediately as Mehmet entered the room.

“Ahhh Mr. Ling…welcome to my home.  I hope that your journey was a pleasant one and that my man Ahmet was on time to meet your flight at the airport.”

Mr. Shin-Ho Ling was a high ranking member of the Chinese government, and was meeting with Mehmet as the final step in closing a business deal that would see the Turkish pig make hundred of millions of dollars.  Provided of course that the Chinese did not back out of the deal, and decided to award the contract to Mehmet and his associates.  This meeting here in Ankara was supposed to be the icing on the cake.  If Mr. Ling was pleased, Peter’s Master was going to go from being wealthy, to filthy rich.

“Mr. Mehmet” Mr. Ling replied with a slight bow (he could not pronounce Mehmet’s surname) “I am honored to be an invited guest in your home.  Tell me, who is this interesting creature that you have brought along with you?  Is she the one that you have told me so much about?”

“Yes Mr. Ling…this is her.  My personal slutwhore, who for the duration of your time with us here in Ankara, you must feel free to treat as is she were your own property as well…to be treated in any way that you see fit my friend.  Anything I can do for my Chinese friends in the spirit of goodwill I am more than willing to offer.  It is my hope, that my goodwill shall be returned when it is time to talk business.”

Peter was horrified – yet another man was now going to have access to using her as a cunthole and pain pig…and she did not like the look of this skinny little Asian.  He minced over to where Peter was positioned on the floor near Mehmet, crouched down, and looked directly into Peter’s now terrified face.  “I have very much been looking forward to meeting you my dear.  I have many things to teach a western capitalist pigwhore who has finally taken her rightful place on her knees before a superior member of the great People’s Republic of China.  I am going to enjoy torturing you and making you suffer.”

Peter became zoned out, retreating mentally into a shell…like a turtle does at the first sign of danger.  She was however, shocked back into alertness by a severe vibrating stimulus deep within her rectum.  The sensation it caused was one of both pain and pleasure, immediately stimulating and then over stimulating the slut’s prostate gland.  Peter looked helplessly at Mehmet, who held in his hand a small remote control.  The large rubber ball that Ahmet had shoved up her ass – it was some kind of remote controlled vibrator that had been inserted all the way inside of her.  “I see you have figured out the source of the buzzing deep within your pussy my little whore…wait until you see what else it can do!”  With the press of a button, Peter immediately became aware of a warming sensation deep inside of her.  The heat continued to grow until it felt like it was going to cook her from the inside out.  “I think we will continue to warm as well as vibrate your bowels slave – it will help for what is to come after dinner. Speaking of which Mr. Ling, would you mind terribly if I handed the slut’s leash over to you for the time being?  I wish to go and check on our dinner.”

Mehmet had only been gone for 5 minutes to the kitchen and back, where upon his return he entered the sitting room to find Mr. Ling sitting astride Peter’s back, her leash wrapped twice around her neck, as he rode her like a horse and yanked back on the leash so forcefully that spluttering choking noises and frothing bits of saliva were gurgling up from behind the false teeth of her cock gag.  The Chinese businessman was using the heels of his shoes to dig into Peter’s sides and her thighs to urge her to speed up and give him a better ride.  He bemoaned the fact that he was not wearing his spurs so that he could feel them rake into her submissive capitalist flesh.

“Ahem” Mehmet cleared his throat.  Mr. Ling turned to see the big Turk in the doorway, and casually asked if dinner was ready.  Indeed it was, and so the skinny Asian man dismounted his mare, and unwrapped the leash from around her neck so that she could be led into dinner.  Peter was still gagging and choking, struggling to calm down from the near death experience of being strangled while ridden like a horse by yet another sadistic Master.  The two would-be business associates chatted together enroute to the dining room, dragging Peter behind them like an obedient dog.

“I am afraid for the meal that has been planned for the slut my friend I must first have her bondage altered slightly…it won’t take but a moment…Ahmet!”  As if like the genie from the lamp, the manservant appeared seemingly from nowhere when his name was called by his employer.  “Prepare the slut for dinner…seat her next to Mr. Ling.”

Peter’s restrictive posture collar was removed, and her feet were unhooked from the backs of her thighs along with the removal of her bondage gloves and kneepads.  She was now the picture perfect demure rubber slavegurl geared up in a bondage micro-mini dress…corseted to the point of only being able to take shallow breaths…with a huge, heated vibrating orb shoved deep inside of her pussyhole.  Ahmet lifted up the skirt portion of her mini dress, pulled aside the crotch strap, but did not remove the vibrator.  Instead, he plunked Peter down on her dining room chair beside the seated Mr. Ling.  The small butt plug attached to the chair went straight into her gash, as it was relatively small and she was permanently loosened down below.  With the press of a button on the back of the chair however, the canister of compressed air hidden beneath the chair hissed to life.  The butt plug upon which Peter was seated, was inflatable.  Made of quite thin latex, it had a remarkable capability to expand.  When Ahmet stopped the procedure and walked over to the sideboard, the plug had become a giant ball blown up inside of the slave’s ass…binding her to the seat until it was deflated and she was allowed to stand.   The Turk and his Chinese friend began to feast on deliciously prepared duck, roast vegetables, crisp salad, and fresh baked bread, while Ahmet placed in front of Peter a silver bowl covered by an ornate lid.  “Well my little slut…what are you waiting for Mehmet chided…take off the lid and eat your dinner.  I expect you to eat every morsel now – for any leftover food will mean extra punishments this evening.

Peter knew she was going to find something disgusting when she removed the lid covering her food.  Her Master took some of his greatest delight in watching her suffer and endure extreme humiliation and degradation.  Even that knowledge however, did not prepare her for what she found in the bowl in front of her.

“Horse-cum mashed potatoes my little slut…just the perfect meal for a piece of subhuman trash like you when seated next to real men who are your betters in every possible way.  You will also find some added treats at the bottom of the bowl my pet…when I went to the kitchen I saw no need to make a detour to the bathroom which would have further delayed my return to my guest…so I had the chef pass me your bowl so I could empty out my shit for you to eat my slave.”

The only cutlery in front of Peter at the table was a large silver spoon that would barely fit inside of her permanently pouted open rubbery lips.  In order to eat she would have to shove the spoonfuls of food in with force, meaning she was sure to end up with large amounts of the disgusting slop on her face.  The bowl was full of steaming hot mashed potatoes, that in substitute of butter, had been made with a generous helping of the same Arabian stud horse cum that Mehmet had fed to her earlier and used to lubricate her gag.  Once Ahmet had removed the diabolical mouthpiece, Peter received her final instruction from her Master.  “I suggest bitch that you finish all that is front of you before Mr. Ling and I have finished our meals…or it will not go well for you tonight at all.”  Feverishly Peter began to shovel in mouthfuls of mushy cum-laden potato slop, with chunks of her Master’s turds mixed in.  The two sadistic foreigners chitchatted with one another like Peter was not even present, but each of them was enjoying the slurping and smacking sounds emanation from Peter’s mouth as she tried to use her remaining few teeth to chew up and swallow the vile mess in front of her.

Having successfully digested her dinner, Ahmet was ordered to take Peter away and prepare her for the evening’s entertainment, while Mehmet and Mr. Ling had an aperatif.  Just before the manservant carried the exhausted slave out of the room to do his employer’s bidding…Mehmet called for him to bring the bitch over to his place at the table.  “Stand the slut here beside me” he ordered.  “Mr. Ling…do you take your coffee white or black in the evening?”  Finding out that his Chinese guest enjoyed a bit of milk in his coffee just as he himself did as well, the brutal Turk gripped and twisted Peter’s growing tits with great ferocity.  Peter wailed in pain, which made Mr. Ling instantly hard inside of his trousers, and within a minute or so thick white spurts of liquid were expelled from the slavewhore’s man-tits.  “Amazing” Mr. Ling exclaimed…”you have actually managed to make the bitch-tits of this shemale whore lactate and produce milk?!” 

“Oh much more that that Mr. Ling – she is only at the beginning of her time as a slut needing to be milked.  Before I am through with her I intend for her to have giant pendulous orbs painfully bursting with man-milk needing to be expressed.”

Freshly milked, Peter was dragged off to be trussed up like a Christmas turkey for her two erstwhile Masters to feat upon for their pleasure.

When Mehmet and Mr. Ling entered the playroom, Peter was a sight to behold.  Ahmet had truly outdone himself.  In the middle of the room, Peter was suspended in a bondage frame hanging from the hydraulic cables attached to the ceiling.  The frame consisted of a heavy wooden cross beam, with chains hanging down at either end to which the slut’s wrists had been attached.  This kept Peter’s hands up above shoulder height, in a position one might be in if they were told to “stick em up” during a robbery.  A heavy rubber gasmask was applied over the slave’s head, with a breath-restricting canister attached to make it harder for her to take in and expel air.  The sounds of the laborious breathing coming from the rubber mask were music to Mehmet and Mr. Ling’s ears.  From the central portion of the wooden crossbeam hung a third chain, attached to a leather collar tightly fastened around Peter’s neck.  Her thighs were pulled upwards via leather cuffs fastened just above the knees, and pulled up towards the main wooden cross beam.  She looked like a perverse marionette hanging in the middle of the room…waiting for the attention she was about to receive from two well fed, and energetic sadists.

“First things first my little slut” Mehmet stated in a matter or fact tone as he approached and sized up his suspended whoreboy.  With the click of a button he shut off Peter’s heated vibrating anal ball, and instructed that she had exactly two minutes to expel it on her own before Mr. Ling would see what he could do to assist with the procedure.  Terrified, Peter immediately began to push and strain, desperately trying to give birth to the giant sphere inside of her pussyhole.  A sheen of sweat broke out over her body, and with every effort she grunted and groaned louder and with greater amounts of agony fueling each vocalization.  Mehmet and Mr. Ling looked on with interest as Peter’s abused anal opening flared and gaped to try to expel the foreign object deep within.  Soon enough the shiny surface of the spherical toy became visible at the threshold of the slave’s pussy with each successive straining effort.  The stretched out lips of Peter’s anus began to give way, and with a primal scream she shot the enormous plug from her cunt, with the exhausted and loosened orifice spasming uncontrollably afterward.

“Good” Mehmet announced…”now we can begin our fun.  Mr. Ling, why don’t you get us started with the evening’s activities.  As my very important guest, I would be honored of you would begin the slut’s session of torture.”

Happy to oblige his Tirkish host, the sadistic Chinese politician and businessman slowlt cicled Peter’suspended and vulnerable frame, deciding just exactly how he wouldbegin using and abusing the western whore.  The milky white flesh of Peter’s body fascinated Mr. Ling.  Since Peter was almost never outside, and even then would usually be covered in rubber, she had no suntan, and was a very pale alibaster color which Mr. Ling was determined to decorate.  Selecting a thin cane of bamboo, the asian Master began taking vicious swipes with the instrument across the hanging slave’s front and back sides.  Raised red wheals and welts began to appear in concert with wails of pain from underneath the restrictive gasmask.  The diminutive Mr. Ling began breaking out in a sweat from the effort, and decided that even that was Peter’s fault, redoubling his efforts to criss-cross the whore’s flesh with the pattern of the cane for daring to make her superior sweat.  Mehment of course sat back and enjoyed watching the show going on in front of him.  Whipping the slut was never one of his particular favorite things to do, but if allowing this impish little Chinaman an opportunity to torture his slavegurl in any way he wanted would seal the business deal and earn him a king’s fortune, then whipped she would be.

Mr. Ling decided that the flesh of his slut was now a much more acceptable color, and the bawling and sobbing from beneath the rubber mask was music to the torturer’s ears.  “May I do whatever I wish with the slut Mr. Mehmet?”  The answer of course was an emphatic yes, as long as snuffing the slut was not part of the asian’s plans for the evening.  “Oh no no no Mr. Mehmet…I would never think of such a thing…dead slaves can feel no pain, and it is the inflicting of pain and degradation that I so enjoy when using a slutwhore like your precious little bitch here.”

“I’ll tell you what then Mr. Ling.  Let me cut right to the heart of the matter here.  I was very much looking forward to spending the night using my little slut here along with you, but…with your written assurance that I will indeed be awarded that lucrative contract by your government that we have spoken about, I will leave you to enjoy her body as you wish all on your own, and I will see to it that you are not disturbed.”  So turned on by the prospect of having a submissive slave slut to use and abuse to his sadistic heart’s content, the deviant little man would have signed just about anything.  “Yes yes yes Mr. Mehmet…please give me the papers and I will sign them right here and now.”

The business deal completed and put to rest, Mehmet sauntered over to his suspended whore, and gazed into her eyes through the lenses of the thick rubber gasmask.  Well my dear, it seems that I will need to wait just a little longer to fully enjoy you all on my own.  You have already proven to be quite useful, and made your Master a great deal of money.  Tonight my little whore, you belong to Mr. Ling.

Peter NEVER thought that she would be sorry to see Mehmet leaving a room – but now she was terrified of being left along with the Chinese official, and was dreading what would surely be a night filled with unspeakable acts of pain and torture.

“Now my little capitalist pig, we are alone at last.  The brief time we had together earlier was not nearly enough time for me to fully enjoy using and abusing you.  I believe that when we were interrupted before, you were in the middle of giving me a very pleasant ride.  I think we shall continue that later, but for now perhaps we should make the most of your current predicament should we not?”

The evil Asian brought over a steel tripod with a telescoping pole mounted in the center of it, and placed it directly underneath Peter’s body, which was twisting slowly in the suspension harness into which Ahmet had secured her.  “The first thing we need to keep your whorish body from twisting and turning in the wind my dear.”  With that pronouncement a giant conical dildo was affixed to the top of the telescoping pole, and Mr. Ling began to use the foot jack on the tripod to raise the enormous rubber intruder towards Peter’s sagging pussylips.  She was only vaguely aware of the tip of the intruder entering her hole, but as her Master continued to jack it upwards, the dildo became thicker and thicker, spreading her further and further apart, and penetrating more deeply into her bowels, which were still warm and pliable from having been heated by the vibrating sphere.  She began to groan as even her stretched out snatch started to approach the limits of tolerance for being opened around the outside of an ever increasing hard rubber circle.  Still the sadistic little man continued to pump the foot jack, eliciting screams of pain from Peter, and causing her anal ring to blanche to the point of nearly tearing from the incredible strain.  Satisfied that his slut was now propped up and steady so that she would not swing or twist in the suspension frame while he worked, Mr. Ling set about working over the next area of his slave’s body that he felt needed attention.

Gripping Peter’s cock and balls, Mr. Ling stretched a tight silicone cock ring over top of them fixing it at the base of the suspended slave’s genitals.  “I don’t want my little slut spilling her seed unless I give her permission” he hissed, followed by his assurance that the permission to do so would never be granted.  With restricted blood flow out of her cock and ball sac, Peter’s junk became slightly engorged, chubby, and slightly stiff.  Mr. Ling then produced a small electrical stimulation unit, complete with several electrodes and conductive metal rings which he set about affixing to Peter’s bound and helpless cock.  Two metal rings circled the short shaft of her penis, and square self adhesive electrode pads were stuck firmly to each of her balls.  The diabolical businessman then produced a metal sound, albeit not terribly thick, but long enough to reach right down into the hanging slut’s bladder, with enough length to spare that a full two inches of it were still protruding from the head of Peter’s fully wired fleshy tube.  To the end of the sound, which had been painfully inserted with a minimum of lube, the Chinese torture master clamped a metal tooted alligator clip, which was also connected to the electrical stimulator.  “Almost finished whore” he snapped, as he gripped, twisted and yanked on Peter’s left nipple.  A simple safety pin was all that he held in his free hand, deftly opening it to expose the sharp point of the everyday object.  With one quick motion he plunged it through the slave’s nipple, and clipped it shut so that it could not be removed until he wished. Peter vibrated with pain – the safety pin was sharp, but not nearly as much as a hypodermic needle.  It punctured her flesh with less than surgical precision, tearing as it pierced her man-tit before reappearing at the other side.  The right nipple was subjected to a similar fate, and once again, electrified alligator clips were attached to the slut’s new tit jewelry.

Now ready to torture Peter’s abused body with electricity, Mr. Ling decided to check one more time oh his quarry’s anal ring.  “My my my you little tramp, you do indeed have one of the most flexible pussies I have ever encountered.  I do believe you can take even more stretching before we begin.”  Peter’s heart sank, the pain in her tits was terrible, and her cock and balls were aching from the congestion of blood that was being accumulated by the tight ring around her base.  The last thing she wanted was to have this little Asian maniac pump the rubber traffic cone further into her bowels simply to increase her level of agony.  Mr. Ling however, had a better idea.  Sitting on a low stool with the remainder of the set of surgical steel sounds. The abuser began to slowly slide them one at a time in alongside of the rubber cone opening his slut’s cunt.  All the way around the outside of the dildo he worked, until he reached eventually the point at which he began.  Collectively, they had functioned to increase the overall diameter of stretch that he had now applied to Peter’s hole, and also created a solid metal wall all the way around the rubber dildo.  Mr. Ling this time took an electrical lead with bare wiring, and twisted it around the end of one of the sounds. Since they were all in contact with one another, he now had the entire perimeter of his whore’s pussy electrified.

The leads on Mr. Ling’s electric stimulator were long enough for him to pull his stool slightly in front of Peter’s suspended body from which he could truly enjoy the fruits of his labors.  He began by turning on all of the leads at once, not high, but just with enough intensity for the slut to feel the buzzing of the electrical current throughout her cock and balls, in each of her tits, and around the entire circumference of her stretched and taut anal ring.  Deciding to begin with the tits, Mr. Ling suddenly jacked up the current on the leads going to the safety pins he had pushed through both of Peter’s nipples.  The effect was a blinding searing wave of agony that instantly took Peter’s breath away.  She began to moan and scream, and even within the confines of her suspension frame started to bounce up and down ever so slightly.  This of course intensified the agony coming from her bowels as any vertical movement whatsoever simply pushed the conical rubber dildo deeper into her guts.  Unable to control himself, the sadistic communist in control of the machine set each of the channels to reach maximum intensity on a rotating basis.  For 5 seconds at a time, Peter’s tits, then her cock and balls, followed by the high-tension wire that her anal sphincter had become, sizzled with the fire of electrical current.  Setting the timer on the machine for 15 minutes, Mr. Ling alighted from his stool, and began collecting more items with which to inflict further pain on Peter’s already heavily abused body.

By the end of the 15 minutes Peter had been reduced to a babbling lump of flesh.  She could not form or speak words, and it was like the electricity had fried her brain as well as her flesh.  She was barely aware of her new Master turning off the stimulation unit and removing all of the electrodes, safety pins, and sounds from her body.  The cockring was removed as well, as Mr. Ling had promised not to do any permanent harm to the slutwhore’s body.  The stimulating effect that electricity has on contractile tissue had caused Peter to have a painfully rock hard erection the entire time that she was being shocked into submission.  The sounds had stimulated her prostate, and the electrodes had done the same thing to her balls…but the tight cockring had prevented her from reaching climax and ejaculating – furthering the torture to yet another level.

Mr. Ling released the footjack on the metal tripod, and slowly but surely the hard rubber cone slid easily from the depths of Peter’s gaping cunt and swollen red pussylips.  Even the Chinaman himself could not believe how much of it has been pumped upwards into the depths of the suspended whore.  He then released the hydraulic cables as well, and lowered Peter right down to the floor…the first time she had been on solid ground since the torture session began.

The Master kicked the exhausted slave in the ribs and reminded her that the night was not nearly over yet, and that she would continue to give him pleasure for as long as it suited his purpose.  With that Mr. Ling peeled off Peter’s gasmask, and tossed it aside.  She gulped in air, being able to breath freely for the first time in what seemed like forever.  Reprieve did not last long however, as Mr. Ling quickly looped a choke chain around Peter’s neck, and began dragging her over towards the enema station that Mehmet had installed in the play area of the house.  For his next round of torture he wanted the slut filled to capacity with fluid, and then plugged shut to make her distended pregnant belly the source of a new kind of agony.

Peter was on her hands and knees, forced backwards over a spigot coming directly out of the wall.  It was shaped like a giant black cock, and right in the middle of the cockhead had a small opening through which water could be delivered at a trickle, or with force to pressure wash the slut’s innards.  Mr. Ling placed one of his feet on the backs of Peter’s shoulders, forcing her to the floor, while he yanked upward on the choke chain to severely limit the airflow into her lungs.  The spigot had been preset to deliver a filling enema with only mild water pressure – the slut was going to feel every bit of this enema as it filled her to the absolute brim.  With slower filling, Mr. Ling was assured that the water would flow as deeply into his slave’s bowels as possible, worsening her cramps, and maximizing her level of discomfort.  It also gave him more time to choke and strangle what he saw as a useless piece of trash needing to be abused and tortured for his amusement.  With every drop of water that flowed into her abdomen, Peter felt more and more full – as if she had eaten too much at a holiday dinner.  The sensation soon progressed beyond simply feeling full, and feeling more like a human water balloon that would burst at any moment.  The deep-seated abdominal cramping was intense, and added to the punishment that the choke chain was inflicting, Peter thought that for sure she would die this night, at the hands of this sadistic communist.  The choke chain tightened again, biting into the soft flesh of her neck, and she could hear the squaking and clinking of the metal links as they tightened their grip on her airway.  Her eyes started to bug out of her head, and her face was crimson, on its way to a deep shade of purple.  Just as she was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, Mr. Ling reduced the tension and allowed his whore to gulp in some air.  A dozen more times he nearly choked her into unconsciousness as she continued to fill to grotesque proportions from the enema spigot rammed up her ass.  The lack of oxygen was making her dizzy and weak, and less able to resist any of the tortures that Mr. Ling might want to inflict upon her. 

Once her Asian Lord was satisfied that she could take on no more liquid, he dropped the choke chain and focused on Peter’s hole.  Stretched over the spigot there was a water-tight seal, but he wanted to lose as little volume as possible as she was drawn off of it, so he needed to be ready.  He had found amongst the copious dildos and butt plugs that Mehmet had purchased a type of butt-sealing instrument that even he had never seen before.  It was a brilliant design, but could only be used on significantly stretched out cunts like Peter’s had become under Mehmet and Ahmet’s control.  The plug looked like a small Frisbee.  In order to work it needed to be inserted beyond the anal sphincter, and allowed to open into shape.  It consisted of a collapsible ring of firm rubber, with a relatively thin rubber membrane spanning the interior of the ring.  With force, it could be folded in half, and held that way with one hand.  It would then need to be shoved up the ass of the intended target, and then let go of, so that it could deploy itself on the interior of the slave’s anus.  The rubber ring would pop open into shape, and brace itself against the interior walls of Peter’s rectum.  Since she was so full of liquid, the pressure of the water against the rubber membrane would actually increase the pressure with which the gasket was pressed against the intestinal flesh, making it impossible for her to expel on her own.  The device would hold her hole open, and make it look like a giant black rubber ball were about to explode forth from inside her cunt at any minute.  The pain from the anal stretching as well as the internal pressure from the punishment enema would be delicious.

As Peter was ordered to crawl forward peeling herself off of the spigot, Mr. Ling stood ready with the disc-like rubber plug.  Just as the tip of the cock-faucet exited her hole, the cat-like Chinaman shoved his hand inside the well-used orifice and let go of the hard rubber ring.  Peter gasped as it snapped into place, and then pressed against her anal lips from the inside-out.  Only a few drops of water had been lost, and Peter now looked like a pregnant sow about to give birth any minute.  The sadistic politician was grinning from ear to ear as he looked down at his slut.  A fat pregnant belly, with her whole body beginning to break out in a sweat, and not a drop of liquid to be released until he was ready to allow it.  He liked to use punishingly large enemas on his slaves…such an easy yet effective means of inflicting serious pain, while making the slave feel totally helpless and filled with despair.

Dragging her away from the enema station on her hands and knees by the choke-chain, Mr. Ling reminded Peter that she still owed him a ride.

Mehmet had ordered and had made a special human saddle to place on his slut’s back.  She was going to get off easy in one respect this night – in that MR. Ling weighed considerably less than her Turkish Master.  In the future, Mehmet would nearly crush her as she wore this very same saddle, with him riding urging her to move faster and give her Master a decent ride.

Peter’s belly was in agony.  The skin was stretched taut, and had taken on a shiny appearance due to the extreme tension.  The saddle was thrown across her back, and two thick leather straps were cinched in around her belly.  Mr. Ling took delight in making these as tight as he could possibly pull as doing so multiplied the compressive force to the exterior of the whore’s pregnant gut.  Once saddled, his mount needed a bridle.  He placed a rubber covered steel bit gag in Peter’s mouth, and connected a set of reins to either end of the gag which was secured around her head with a heavy leather buckling strap.  A traditional riding crop being too long for him to effectively motivate his mare, he opted instead for a wooden handled paddle of sorts, that consisted at its business end of the thick lugged rubber sole of a logger’s boot…size 13.  It had in fact been one of Ahmet’s boots that had been re-made for the purpose of torturing the slut.  Fully prepared, he placed his feet in the stirrups and mounted his steed.  Even Mr. Ling’s small frame and his relatively light body weight caused Peter’s exposed knees to be ground into the hard flooring.  With a vicious swipe of the boot sole paddle, he yanked back on the bridle and commanded his bitch to move.  Like some kind of perverted Asian cowboy he rode Peter from one end of the room to the other…whacking and spanking her mercilessly with the heavy rubber paddle, and pulling so hard on the reins that her rubbery lips jutted out from her face and the skin at the edges of her mouth began to friction and blister.  Her knees were badly bruised, and the muscles in her arms were beginning to give way under the strain of the load she was carrying.  She had been carting the evil bastard around for nearly 20 minutes when finally her left elbow did buckle, causing her to lurch suddenly forward and to the left, nearly bucking her rider off in the process.  Mr. Ling was incensed.  In a rage he leapt off of Peter’s back and began hurling insults at her in Chinese.  They were accompanied by blows with the rubber paddle that he rained down on her exposed flesh.  Slipping back into English, he hissed at her that she would regret her failure to please him very very much indeed.

Mr. Ling was still enraged when he unbuckled the saddle from Peter’s back, and threw it off to the side.  The beating with the boot sole continued, as did the insults and the verbal barrage of hatred and promises of tortuous punishment.  Peter tried desperately to scramble away from the attack Mr. Ling was leveling against her, but it was no use, in her weakened state she was no match for him, and soon he had her flipped over on her back, and secured with four point restraints that were bolted into the floor.  Her arms and legs were stretched out in a full spread eagle, and her bulbous belly, still bloated with the painfully large enema that her abuser had forced into her gut.  Once he had the slut secured by her wrists and ankles, Mr. Ling seemed to calm down.  In fact, he got completely quiet, which frightened Peter almost as much as when he was hurling insults and obscenities at her in his native language.  He busied himself with collecting items from around the room, and began piling them beside Peter’s restrained frame on the floor.  A large plastic tub, industrial rubber gloves, some rubber cording and broad rubber strips, the open faced hood and blonde wig that she had been wearing earlier, a posture collar, and a large inflatable rubber butt plug.

With his necessary equipment at the ready, Mr. Ling pulled out his mobile phone and made a short phone call.  Peter could not hear what was said, but clearly heard Mr. Ling finish by saying that he was very pleased, and to leave the delivery outside of the door to the harem playrooms.

The first order of business was to empty out the slut’s sow belly.  The Chinese Master positioned the posture collar around the slave’s neck, and buckled it as tightly as he could.  Peter was not actually choking at this point, but her breathing was definitely more labored with the restrictive collar in place.  He then unfastened her wrists, and using the d-ring on the front of the collar helped to pull her into a standing position, now with her legs spread wide and her feet far apart.  Mr. Ling positioned the large plastic basin right under Peter’s ass, and prepared to yank out the disc like plug that he had inserted into her earlier.  It was a simple matter for him to get his small hand inside of her and grasp the edge of the device’s rubber rim.  With one quick movement, he pulled out the semi-flexible disc, and shoved Peter into a squat position on the basin.  Water came gushing out of her gut for what seemed like forever.  Every time she thought she was completely empty, another wave of fluid would come bursting forth.  For 10 full minutes her new Master let her drain on top of the basin, for he wanted her fully emptied out before beginning to abuse her again.  Once she seemed to be done leaking water and ass juice into the basin, she was once again stood upright, so that Mr. Ling could slide it off to the side.  She was then returned to her spread eagled position on the floor and tightly secured. 

The entire time that he had been using and abusing her, Mr. Ling had remained fully clothed.  It was only now that Peter became truly aware of that fact.  Truthfully, she only noticed it because he was now slowly disrobing, and neatly folding his clothes as he removed them.  “You know whore”, he said, “one of the things we Chinese value and practice is cleanliness…much more so than your filthy American culture.  You decadent westerners are a filthy disgusting race, and the very sight of your white flesh is something that had always made me sick to even look at.  You will now learn the price of failing to fully satisfy my desires, by being made into the true embodiment of the disgusting dirty American pigwhore that you are.  All you needed do was provide me with a simple enjoyable ride, and instead you have chosen to raise my ire, and suffer my wrath…very well then.”

“A simple ride”.  Was he joking?  He had bloated her, saddled her, beaten her mercilessly, and made her carry his weight on her back for 20 full minutes…what more could she have done??? 

The restrictive open face hood was drawn down over her head, and zipped up in the back.  Mr. Ling even unbuckled her collar briefly so that he could tuck the bottom of the hood beneath it before he re-tightened the straps.  The blonde wig was then replaced on her head, making her look like a proper slut with her permanently tattooed whorish make-up.  He stroked her artificial blonde hair, and with his face very close to hers confided in her how much he like to torture blonde American slutmeat.  “It is so symbolic of your capitalist phony culture” he admonished, going on to say that looking at her splayed out for his use in a blonde wig and slutty make-up made him even more motivated to make her suffer as badly as he possibly could.  For the first time in a long time Peter began to cry true tears of frustration.  She had once been like him…a businessman, independent, willful…a MAN for god’s sake…not this sissified she-male slut slave that Mehmet had turned her into…she bawled…and Mr. Ling smiled. 

“I noticed that you have been trained to serve as a superior male’s toilet whore” he said…”good”.  And with that he turned around, spread his cheeks, and planted his asshole squarely on the rubbery lips of Peter’s silicone injected mouthpusy.  “ I suggest whore, that you get your tongue busy loosening up my asshole so that it may feed you…if you know what is good for you.”  Peter hesitated long enough that Mr. ling decided to give her a demonstration of what any further hesitation to obey would bring.  From the pocket of this pants which were folded beside him he drew a small leather case about he size of a cheque-book.  Opening it, he took out a sharp metal skewer about 7 inches long.  Leaning forward, easing the amount of weight his ass was generating on Peter’s face, he grasped the slut’s cock and balls.  With one swift thrust, he plunged the skewer right through the head of Peter’s cock and out the other side. 

“Now slut” he said sitting back upright…”your tongue, in my asshole, NOW!”

Peter instantly obeyed, and tongue fucked her Asian dominator feverishly.  Mr. Ling sighed with relaxation, and began to grind his ass on his slut’s face with delight.  He could feel the inevitable beginning to happen, and was relishing the thought of feeding this decadent American whore his communist shitload in its entirety.

Peter could feel the first hard turd with her tongue as it made its way into her mouth.  Mr. Ling’s small brown hole twitched and opened and the knotty gnarly end of the excrement pushed its way through her plump lips, and through the cocksucking gap in her teeth that Dr. Kizmir had created.  She had no choice but to work her jaw as much as she could with the weight of her assailant on top of her, and begin to chew and swallow what he was feeding her as best she could.  Slowly but surely Mr. Ling fed peter an amazing quantity of shit.  Four full logs had passed from his ass to her mouth, and she was beginning to get nauseated.  Some wet loud farts signaled an end to the meal, and the next order she heard was for her to clean and worship her Master’s hole until it was spotless.  This she did with vigor as she did not want to suffer any more punishment from the Asian sitting on top of her.  Satisfied with his slut-toilet’s efforts, Mr. Ling once again leaned forward, and quickly removed the skewer from Peter’s cockhead…but he was by no means done with her yet.

The Chinese sadist stood and straddled Peter’s helpless body, and informed her that he felt she needed further demonstration to learn how full of shit her American way of life truly was.  He went on to say that he felt he was the one who could finally show her that truth in all of its disgusting glory.  Mr. Ling strode away, and Peter heard him open, and then quickly close the door.

He returned with a large plastic bin that clearly had some weight to it…and he settled it on the floor beside her head.  She did not need to be told what it contained, she could tell right away.  Donning the thick rubber gloves, Mr. Ling grasped Peter’s face with his left hand, and squeezed with all his might.  Her siliconed lips parted, and her mouth opened like a flower.  With his right hand, he reached into the bin and pulled out a small handful of pure bread Arabian horseshit, delivered to the outside of the door by the ever-accommodating Ahmet.

Mr. Ling began stuffing horseshit into Peter’s mouth, using his gloved fingers to push it and pack it into every square inch of the slut’s oral cavity.  He pushed it back into her throat so far that she started to gag several times.  By the time he was done, she had chipmunk cheeks that were packed so full from the inside that her face was a firm and as hard as a rock from the outside.  Temporarily removing his gloves…he took great pleasure in holding up in front of her eyes, one of his 7 inch long metal skewers…not something that Mehmet had approved of, but being a businessman and wanting to keep the Chinese government happy Mr. Ling was sure he would overlook it.

“Now my sweet blonde American whore…I want you to smile pretty for me with those rubberized cocksucking lips of yours”.  The sadistic Chinaman then proceeded to pierce Peter’s lower lip with the skewer, and continued onward until he had also skewered the upper lip as well.  He repeated the process with three more skewers, and Peter vibrating with pain underneath him.  She could not cry our in agony, as he had effectively gagged her by packing her mouth and upper throat full of thick peaty equine shit.  Once fully skewered, Mr. Ling picked up the rubber cording he had brought, and began to wind it around the skewers the wany one would to tie off the cavity of a turkey or chicken once they had stuffed it.  Drawing the cording tight, Mr. Ling sealed up his slut’s mouth nice and tight, tied shut, and packed full of shit which would take hours for her to gum and masticate so that it would liquefy enough for her to swallow it.  Not finished even yet, the barbaric man took the thick rubber strapping, and began to wind it around Peter’s posture collar.  With every pass, Mr. Ling pulled tighter and tighter, further restricting the slut’s airway with the elastic rubber continually compressing inward on the tight leather collar underneath.  He did not stop until Peter was wheezing and struggling for air, and her face was flushing a bright shade of pink.

Uninterested in the struggle to breathe that dominated his slave’s every moment of consciousness, Mr. Ling unhooked Peter’s ankles, only to re-tie them to the same iron loops in the floor that restrained her wrists.  With her ass now nicely exposed, Peter heard her tormentor say that she must have all of her holes sufficiently stuffed if he is to feel vindicated for having his pony ride cut short.  The rubber gloves went back on, and just as he had done with her mouth, the process of packing her asspussy with horseshit began.  Fisting her deeply and roughly, Mr. Ling shoved and stuffed whole handfuls of malleable animal shit into Peter’s cunt.  She thought his hand would come right out of her throat he was in her so deeply.  She felt like some kind of animal herself, being prepared to be feasted upon…stuffed and sealed like a holiday entrée for her Master’s enjoyment.  Once he had her packed with as much shit as he could possible cram into her guts, Mr. Ling picked up the large inflatable butt plug.  Jamming it into place, he began to pump the inflation bulb until the plug completely sealed his whore shut…making it quite impossible for her to expel any of what he had made her take into her body.

Looking down on her, the pathetic sight that she was, Mr. Ling felt sated.  He had thoroughly enjoyed using and abusing his host’s personal whore, and now had her trussed, barely able to breathe, and packed full of disgusting horseshit at both ends as she lay jack-knifed and helplessly bound before him.

“I thoroughly enjoyed our time together slut” he said.  “I think I shall retire for the night…you may lie here enjoying your meal…horseshit as a dessert after a full meal of my superior Asian excrement.  I will be sure to let your Master know where you are before I leave…so I figure you only have to endure the predicament you are in  at the moment for perhaps another 9 or 10 hours.”  Mr. Ling scooped up his clothes, and strode away laughing like a maniac while Peter had to concentrate with all of her might just to take each and every breath.  9 or 10 hours would seem like an eternity.

Next Chapter…Mehmet’s whore.