One way trip to the Congo

One way trip to the Congo

By Marcus E

She was a tart. Not a cheap tart, an expensive, upper middle class tart, but a tart nevertheless. Definitely not a professional hooker just a party girl who enjoyed flouting what she had.

John knew what she was and loved her for it. When you had the assets that Kimberley Church had watching her flout them was a pleasure all heterosexual men appreciated. Her small, curvaceous hour glass figure, long elegant legs, dark sultry looks and Home Counties upper class accent meant she reeked of sex-appeal. It had been expensive to get her to be sitting next to John in the company helicopter, an expense worth every penny in John’s mind.

The only other passenger was Roxanne, at 29 she was six years older than Kimberley. She was tall and thin and when she thought she was not being observed had a hard look of someone addicted to exercise, hidden most of the time by a friendly, ready smile. Certainly still attractive especial if you liked the sporty type.

They had been travelling from before dawn and it was now tuning to dusk over the endless green rain forest below. The flight from Abu Dhabi to Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, had been fun and exciting for Kimberley. It was bit clandestine flying out of Abu Dhabi in a cargo plane which had a small passenger cabin built into. No tickets just passports quickly flashed, nothing recorded. John had brought with him Champaign and a cold buffet. The very comfortable cabin, large enough for six so three had space to spread, had its own sound system that they made good use of. Kimberley though she had joined the jet-set until they arrived into Kinshase. No one in the jet-set would want to go there. The small company prop plane to Isiro was not so comfortable and Isiro was not a town, just rusting tin shacks in the jungle. Now Kimberley was in a helicopter and getting scared. The Champaign was wearing off and her situation was slowly dawning on her. She was in the middle of a rain forest, hundreds of miles from anything that looked like a town, and when on the ground the place appeared to be crawling with hungry, sullen, young man in green indeterminate uniforms armed with assault rifles. This was clearly a very hostile world in all senses of the word and John, a man she had only known for three weeks, was her only route home.

Kimberley glanced back over her should at Roxanne, her friend for the last three months since she had arrived in Abu Dhabi. It was Roxanne who had originally introduced her to John. She was slightly reassured to see Roxanne looking totally relaxed. Roxanne’s enthusiasm to see a bit more of Africa had been instrumental in getting Kimberley to come. Roxanne was also an old friend of John’s and was totally confident that John would take care of them. However, Kimberley’s confidence was evaporating with every mile they flew deeper into the jungle.

In the half-light an ugly brown scare appear in the green below, the diamond mine that was their final destination. To Kimberley it looked like the worst type of prison camp, high electric fences and armed guards could clearly be seen as the helicopter came in to land on a small grass field. One of many questions in Kimberley’s mind was regarding the security, was it designed to keep people in or the dangers from outside out? Neither option was good.

The South African, Afrikaner, pilot who John clearly knew well and referred to as Van the Fan took the women’s two small cases. Both men walked off towards a low white washed building, John carried his own bag and both ignoring their guests. The two women had no option other than trailing along behind struggling on the soft uneven ground in their heeled, open toed, sandals. Both were sweating immediately in the 90 percept humidity and high tropical temperature.

Fear of the position she found herself in and resentment against Roxanne but mainly at John for bringing her into this steaming hot hell hole built up in Kimberley as she teetered along, in silence, towards the building that the two men had entered.

Once in the room she pushed passed Van the Fan and started to demand that John organised something to get her home, straight away.

Roxanne also pitched in from the door way in her normal outspoken way.

‘She’s right John, when are you going to get us fucking home!’

Having swung around to watch Roxanne in action, Kimberley started again.

‘This fucking -.’

Her sentence was cut short. As she twisted back to face John she glimpsed a blur of movement just before John’s fist slammed into her stomach. The force of his fist, driving upwards towards her solar plexus, lifted her body up and back. Driving every last molecule of air from her lungs in one deep rasping cough.

Kimberley collapsed down onto her knees, forehead on the floor and both hands clutching her stomach, recreating the classic kowtow pose. The initial shock and surprise was nearly immediately replaced with pain and panic. All her life giving air had gone from her lungs and they seemed incapable of responding to her urgent need for oxygen. Subconsciously Kimberley recorded the background noise of a woman’s scream and a door slamming shut. At the time these sounds held no interest for her.

Within seconds and well before her lungs showed any sigh of working one of her arms was wrench out from beneath her and a cable tie was put onto her wrist. John’s weight then descended down on top of her, knocking her flat onto the floor, making her recovery even more difficult. Her second arm was forced to follow the first resulting in her hands been fasten together behind her back. Kimberley was vaguely aware that she was being tied up, however, breathing was still her top priority. Besides she was in no condition to offer even token resistance.

Less than ten seconds was a record for John to subdue and tie his target and he was very pleased with how easy it had been, thinking to himself that practise clearly makes perfect. He was now free to continue at a leisurely pace and ensure everything was done correctly. Having fetched his box of equipment he settled down to start work by sitting astride Kimberley’s legs, pinning them to the floor as he worked on his victim’s wrists and arms.

This was where the fun started for John. It was his form of creative art. The cable ties were adjusted and the excess length cut off. Wrapping the woman’s wrist and lower arms with two inch wide elasticated strapping was the trickiest part of the binding operation. John had to ensure that the underside of Kimberley’s wrists were pressed firmly together, palm facing palm. Keeping constant tension on the strapping as it was wound around, welded her wrist together in this position. As he continued to work up her lower arms her arms here forced to straight, elbows locked straight, shoulders forced back as her shoulder blades moved towards each other. Her hands also splayed apart like the opening of a flower. Once he was content with his handy work the strapping was locked in place by copious circles of duct tape.

By the time John had finished this part of the process Kimberley had regained the power to talk. She was now very scared and was trying desperately to reason calmly with her lover who had in the past three weeks been so generous, fun and thought full. Her words were totally ignored as a standard dog collar was strapped around her neck, another smaller strap looped around her wrists, on top of all the other restrains already there. Finally, for her arms, a soft leather band was slipped up her low arms and pushed up onto her upper arms, an inch or two above her elbows. The band initially only added a little additional press pulling her upper arms closer together. That was before John looped a cord down from the D ring in her collar to the leather band around her upper arms. The cord locked the band in place so it could not slip down. The excess cord was repeatedly looped around the centre of the strap pulling it into a figure of eight and significantly drawing her upper arms closer together to the point that her shoulder blades were nearly touching each other in the centre of her back, shoulders pulled right back. The result was just what John wanted, her shoulders so tightly locked than her arms were forced to rise up from her back at a 45 degree angle and her chest pushed forward. Her ample breasts, despite the constraints of her blouse and bra, were thrusting out to either side of her body.

Using a handful of Kimberley’s dark, heavy, hair and her shoulder John pulled her body up to knelling so he could fit the custom made blindfold. It was shaped to fit over her eyes with cloth padding designed to gently press down onto the eyes. Once the elasticated strap was clipped closed at the nap of her neck Kimberley was locked into a totally black world.

Continuing to use her hair as a lever he tipped her head back so her face pointed to the ceiling and at the same time ensuring she remained kneeling with her body straight. This only needed one hand so with the other he was free to undo the belt and zip of her designer, khaki, trousers. Getting them, and her decorative little thong, off her narrow waist and over her feminine, rounded, hips and bottom proved to be a little tricky, one handed.

By the time he had worked them down to her knees Kimberley could feel John’s growing excitement and changed her pleading accordingly.

‘We can have some fun together, I don’t mind a bit of bondage, I’ll do anything you want, anything, so there’s no need to hurt me.’

John had to smile at her pragmatic approach to the situation she found herself in. It was a very good sign from his point of view. The quake of fear in her voice was an added turn on, however, he maintained his complete silence as he dragged her to her feet by grabbing the front of her blouse.

Buttons from her blouse fired free as she was pulled forward faster than her hobbled legs could move, her heeled sandals not helping. By the time she arrived in the rear utility area of the large bungalow the blouse had been ripped completely open. With the combination of a penknife and manual ripping the blouse was removed and discarded.

The sensation of the knife cutting through her top made Kimberley freeze with fear.

In an ideally world John would have liked to have kept the lacy, expensive, bra Kimberley was wearing in one piece. The problem was the shoulder straps did not unhook so he used the knife to slice through the straps in turn. Instead of bothering to undo the rear catch John also took pleasure in cutting through the small section of material linking the two cups together, mainly to further frighten Kimberley. Women feeling a blade close to their tits always seemed to become more compliant in John’s experience.

As soon as the link was cut her breast jumped free, thrusting and wobbling forwards like two over keen puppies wanting attention. Resisting the temptation to have some rough play with these large soft and inviting toys was hard for John. He had a system and self-discipline just managed to win through.

Getting his blind and hobbled victim back on the floor, face down, was easy. With his foot placed just in front of hers and a solid push forward whilst holding her collar and she stumbled down to her knees. Another push forward and she fell flat on her face, or more to the point, her tits. The thin rubber mat that she fell onto doing little to lessen the impact and pain on her chest. Again she was in no position to even try and struggle as strong leather padded cuffs were locked onto her ankles, followed by her trousers and knickers been pulled off over her sandals.

Being raped was no longer a big concern to Kimberley. She was near enough resigned to that. Her head was filled with greater concerns. Extreme bondage and control was clearly John’s thing but was he also a sadist? From the initial stomach punch, the way her arms were painfully tied and the way he deliberately made her fall on her chest made Kimberley assume that he was. If so what was he planning to do to her, torture her to death? Even if he didn’t what other plans did he have for her? Normally Kimberley was an optimistic care free person. The hope that once John had finished his little sex game he would put her, and Roxanne, back on the plane to Abu Dhabi appeared very slim even to Kimberley.

As John ran a cord from one of her ankles to her hands and ruthlessly pulled her leg back on itself until her ankle reached her hands, Kimberley continue to overcome her own adrenaline and rapidly beating heart to talk calmly to John. Still gently trying to convince him that he did not need to be doing what he was doing, she would do, willingly, anything he wanted her to do.

This calm persona started to crack when two metal clips were attached either side of her one remaining free limb and an electrical motor start to whine from someway above her. As her leg was slowly but relentlessly lifted off the ground and going upwards Kimberley started to panic. By the time the device was dragging her hips off the floor she was screaming for help as loudly as she possibly could. Images, in her mind, of animals hanging upside down in slaughter houses drove her into total hysterics. Even when she was complete suspended the devices continued to lift her higher. When the motor did eventually stopped Kimberley’s screams could not get louder, however, the anticipation of what was to come next continued to ramp up her fear.

What immediate did come next was nothing. She was just left, her naked body swinging and turning in free air. It wasn’t that Kimberley calmed down at all; it was physical exhaustion than made her quieten down and start to listen to the sounds going on around her. The mat she had been lying on been dragged away, a cupboard of some kind opening and closing, stones clinking into a plastic bowl and finally liquid, lots of liquid, been poured from plastic bottles into a large container. Concentrating on the sounds going on around her had stopped her making any further noise herself. This did not mean the knot of fear she felt in the core of her body diminished at all.

Squeaky castor wheels and the gentle sloshing sound told her that a container of some type of liquid had been pushed into place directly below her. An inkling of what John was planning began to form in Kimberley’s head. This was more than enough motivation to make her try, again, to persuade John to stop or at least change his plans.

‘Christ, John don’t do this to me – please. I love you and I’ll do anything you want me to do. Please John, for God’s sake.’

All Kimberley got back was silence until the motor started again. If she could have seen she would have seen John smiling, in an amused way, at her inventive way of throwing love in her begging. She may have also realised that nothing she said would stop him.

As soon as she heard the motor and felt her body been lowered she started scream hysterically again. First she sensed her hair being dipped into the liquid. Even with her neck pushing her head forward towards her chest it only took a few seconds before her head was touching the freezing cold water. Her control was gone and she threshed round in frenzy, ice cubes knocking against her skin.

This was another good part for John and Kimberley was preforming better than most. It reminded him of a frantic fish held out of water by its tail. She twisted and turned, her breast shaking around in all directions.

Her mad panic only increased as the shockingly cold water soaked into the blindfold and filled her ears. The motor stopped, to her great relief, just as the water was lapping around her mouth and nose. The only reason that her head was not completely under water was the fact that Kimberley was using her bruised and sore stomach muscles to pull her upper body forward. This plus her neck holding her chin against her chest were the reasons she could still breathe. It only took Kimberley 30 seconds, or so, to realise her new predicament. Her neck and especially her stomach had to work very hard to keep her mouth above water. Her traumatised stomach was not only lifting the weight of her upper body and head but was also pulling against her own leg tied to her hands. The discomfort of her thigh muscle been stretched as her leg was pulled further down her back was inconsequential compared to stress in her abdomen. It did not take much longer before Kimberley knew she needed a new approach to get through this ordeal.

After taking one large breath she took the plunge and relaxed her body allowing her head to be totally submerged. Fighting to control her fear in this jet black world she forced herself to count slowly to four before coming up for air. Slowly getting used to this routine and the freezing water Kimberley managed to resist the urge to surface for longer periods of time. It also helped to relax her leg that was tied to her hands and let the knee fall sideways so it stuck out horizontally from her body. This reduced the tension in her leg and also slightly changed her body’s centre of gravity making it easy to reach the water’s surface if she turned her head to the opposite side. It was not an elegant or modest pose, with her sex pushed forward and spread wide. Kimberley was far beyond caring above such niceties.

In this isolated world of darkness and cold water Kimberley fought with her own fatigue minute after minute, the only sounds she could hear was her own breathing and her head splashing in and out of the water. After what seemed like hours but in truth was only 30 minutes she started to struggle to maintain her smooth rhythm. As she tired she occasionally sucked in water instead of air and would have to immediately come up again, spluttering, to gasps in more air. These failed attempts to get air increased her fatigue and the extra effort also increased her need for air. The true physical torture started at this point as Kimberley’s body was very slowly pushed towards suffocation. Oxygen starvation sapped her strength so the spiral down started. An increasingly desperate and lonely battle of survival was fought. Her only hope was John. This raised two major questions in Kimberley’s distressed mind. Was it John’s plan to entertain himself by watching her slowly drown? In a strange way an even more upsetting scenario was that he just did not care and she had been left to die alone. This appeared most likely as she had not heard any sounds since her ordeal started except her own laboured breathing and the splashing of water as her head bobbed up and down.

She knew her end was coming. Freezing water filled her mouth, nose and throat and all she was capable of doing was vainly shaking her head. The strength need to reach the air was exhausted.

The sense of relief, hope and gratitude was over welcoming when she felt John’s hands grab at her body. The fact that John’s fingers dug deeply into each of her breasts and dragged her body weight forward using these sensitive glands did not register with Kimberley. Access to life giving air was all that mattered. John had saved her. He did care.

It took more than 30 seconds of painfully coughing and splattering before air could again flow smoothly into her lungs. After three deep breaths Kimberley had regained the strength and composure to talk.

‘John please’ was all she managed to utter before, to her total dismay, John’s grip on her body vanished. All she managed was a squeal of terror before her head swung back below the water.

It only took a few minutes before Kimberley was back in serious trouble, praying that John would rescue her again. She was barely conscience by the time John relented and dragged her forward into free air, again using her breasts as convenient and amusing handles.

It took the very relieved Kimberley longer to recover that the first time. She also took some time to think about her words she was going to use in an attempt to get John to stop her torture.

She just managed to get the words out “I’m yours” before she found herself swing back into the water.

The third time she was due to be saved from the water John first teased the desperate woman by pinching hold of a nipple in each hand and pulled at them but not hard enough to pull Kimberley’s mouth clear of the water. He got her to the point where it was slightly easier for her to reach the air by using her neck muscles to bring her head forward. By slightly increases or decreasing the tension he applied to her nipples he controlled whether it was air or water she was breathing in. The aim of this intimate game of life or death was to keep Kimberley at the point of maximum distress without allowing her to actually pass out, demonstrating his totally power over her.

He did not play the game for long, just long enough to make the point. Further stretching out her strained nipples brought most of her head free of the water. Whilst water was coughed and splattered from her nose and mouth John continued to entertain himself by increasing the mistreatment to her nipples, adding an occasional twist, shake or rocking her body from side to side by pulling harder on alternative nipples. All this Kimberley sensibly accepted in silence. She dearly wanted to at least try to talk to John again but was wary as the last two times talking appeared to be the trigger that sent her back into the water torture. She managed to empty the water from her air ways and breathe again still holding silent. The pain in her nipples was growing and the silence seamed to pressing in on her, forcing her to speak. Eventually she could not hold her tongue still any longer and started with a well thought out plea to John.

‘I beg’ was all she managed before realising her mistake. Feeling the terrible cold dread in her belly as John’s fingers leased her nipples and she started to swing back into the water.

Her completely exhausted body was in trouble right from the start and in was only a few minutes before John needed to drag the semi conscience Kimberley from the water, this time sideways by using just one tit as his pulling point.

She hung there at an angle in total silence for at least four minutes with John deliberately hurt her breast by forcing his fingers deep into its core and twisting

For the first time since they had left the helicopter John broke his silence and at precisely the same time the motorize winch came to life, lifting Kimberley higher. His voice was quiet and conversational.

‘It took some time, but congratulations you have learnt your first lesson. You don’t talk unless your master asks you a question. There are a few exceptions but we will cover them later. For now just remember you don’t talk unless you are replying to your owner. It’s time for you to have a little rest and for me to eat. We will start the next part of your training soon enough.’

After some sounds of things been moved Kimberley found herself back on the rubber mat, face down. The leg that had been tied back to her hands released much to the relief of her stretched thigh muscle that was on the verge of going into cramp. Not so good was that the other leg was immediately pulled back to take its place.

This time she was sure that John had left her alone as she heard his footsteps as he left the room and a door closing. Her whole body ached, legs, hip joints, arms, shoulders, neck, breasts nipples, stomach and especially all things linked to her breathing. All she wanted was to sleep and forget. Something that is not easy to do when all you can think about is what will happen next. Crying was the only release Kimberley could, and did, indulge in.

A full two hours of anxiously waiting was eventually brought to an end by the sound of John’s return. Apart for the tremendous anxiety of what was going to happen now Kimberley also had the dilemma of needing the loo, difficult when blind and immobile plus not been allowed to communicate to her captor.

Cranking up the old air conditioner unit to maximum was John’s first action. The cooler air immediately been felt blowing over Kimberley’s bare skin.

Without comment or preamble John attached Kimberley’s free leg to the winch and pressed the up button. Initially Kimberley tried to remain silent, however as her panic rose she lost control and started to pitifully cry and plead for John to stop. John did not stop or show pity, in fact he sounded critical and short tempered when he replied.

‘I spent a lot of time and effort teaching you your first lesson. Leave you alone for a few minutes and it’s completely gone. So we go back to lesson one and this time I’ll try to make sure you really do remember it.’

John’s threat did not quieten Kimberley; she actually increased the noise she was making. In fairness to Kimberley her pleas and cries for mercy were more aimed at God than John in a new found religious fervour. Either way it did not stop her head going back into the cold water.

Just after bring her head up for her third breath in this new session of water torture her body convulsed in shocking pain, radiating out from her sex. All her muscles tried to contract simultaneously, momentarily lifting her whole head out of the water. This was accompanied by a deep gasp as her lungs involuntarily tried to pull in even more air. As she dropped back into the water as a trembling dead weight she was vaguely aware of the hot liquid running down the front of her body as she had lost control of her bladder.

The reduced powered, stun gun that John had gently touched across lips of Kimberley’s pouting vagina had temporary disabled her body, not good when your head is underwater. Kimberley was not initially aware of the motor lifting her out of the water, thirty seconds later, until she found that air was again going into her lungs and not water.

Once John believed she had recovered enough to listen and talk he opened the conversation.

‘Can my little fuck toy now remember the first rule?’

A vanquished and drained, in all sorts of ways, Kimberley replied.

‘I don’t talk unless replying to a question.’

‘That’s a good slave girl, and I do hope you manage to remember it this time. The next thing you must remember is to be polite at all times. That means always calling you owner Mater or Sir. I prefer Sir but others are more traditional. So it is, yes Sir, no Sir, three bags full Sir. You don’t ever finish your reply without a Sir or Master. Is that clear?’

‘Yes Sir.’ A dutiful Kimberley replied.

‘Good and now the exceptions to the first rule, which are just common sense. Replying to verbal communication is clear but sometimes your owner may communicate with you visually or physically. If you’re beckoned you come forward quietly and meekly and just say, yes Sir. Physically, a pat, slap or pinch is another way to get your attention and again your just reply, yes Sir. Punishment is yet another form of physical communication. If your owner has taken the time and effort to help your remember something you need to remember to thank him for his trouble. So, for example, if I was caning you I would expect you to thank me after each stroke and let me how you will correct your behaviour in future. The final exception is when you believe that there is something that your owner must know or would want to know. In this case you knell beside him and kiss his hand, or a foot if his hand is not available, and wait. It’s his choice whether he wants to hear what you have to say or not.

Is that clear?’

Any thought of resistance had been crushed within Kimberley all she wanted to please John and be released from her torment.

‘Yes Sir.’

John waited a few seconds before starting on his new subject mainly due to the fact he need to fetch something from the large wash basin.

‘Do you think that pissing yourself is acceptable behaviour?’

As John said the words Kimberley felt a cold, wet, sponge being applied to her pubic hair. The sensation between her legs absorbed Kimberley’s attention to the point that she nearly forgot to repeat to John’s question.

‘No Sir. Sorry Sir.’

She would have liked to add that when thousands of volts are fired directly up your fanny you don’t have any fucking control over anything. Something she was sure John knew already.

The wet sponge had been replaced by a pair of scissors cutting her trimmed pubic hair down to stubble before John replied.

‘I hope you are sorry, but that’s not the point. You behaved like a dirty slut, with no self-control, and that’s not acceptable. I own you now so you don’t piss, shit, sleep, eat, dress or undress without permission. In fact you don’t do anything unless I tell you to do it. Did I give you permission to piss yourself?’

‘No Sir.’

‘And how did you behave?’

Kimberly knew the answer she needed to give and also had a suspicion of where the conversation was leading. She saw no alternative but to follow the path she knew John wanted her to follow.

‘I behaved like a dirty slut, Sir.’

Shaving gel and a double bladed disposable razor followed on from where the scissors left off.

‘Do you agree that dirty sluts need to be punished to ensure they remember to behave better in future?’

Kimberley tried to change the course of the conversation with a heartfelt plea.

‘I won’t ever do it again, I promise. The electrical shock thing made me lose control. I’ll be good in future and will always ask permission. Please Sir.’

Throughout John’s little tirade and Kimberley’s pleas John continued to carefully and very precisely remove all traces of hair from what had been Kimberley’s neatly trimmed fanny, to reveal a perfectly shorn, pure white, split peach, thrusting itself forward crying out for attention.

Kimberley was still prattling on about been good, as John stepped back and picked up a two foot length of heavy, clear plastic hose pipe that had been pre-treated with a thick layer of Vaseline along most of its length. Taking hold of the dry end of the hose he pulled back his arm so the hose hung down is back, aimed carefully and then slammed down his weapon of chastisement onto its target.

The prattling from Kimberley was replaced in middle word to a grunting shriek and a broad, bright crimson, line became immediately visible. The centre line of the red stripe been Kimberley’s slit.

The red, glowing, highlight along Kimberley’s sex was testament to John’s accurate delivery. John knew it was mere decoration. The tool used was designed to minimise the damage to the surface skin. The heavy, well lubricated hose was design to cause much deeper trauma. The tissue below and surrounding the area of the impact had absolved all the energy and the bruising would go deep into sensitive flesh.

‘When I ask a question I expect a yes or no answer not for you to waffle. I’ll repeat the question, do dirty sluts, who wet themselves, need to be punished?’ John stated in a bored tone whilst Kimberley was still gasping and panting from the pain between her legs.

Despite the pain ripping through her body Kimberley was keen to reply quickly, before John inflicted further pain on her just for not answering the question. She knew the reply she was been forced to give would mean a further punishment, the alternative was even more prolonged pain followed by the same consequence. So Kimberley gave the answer required hoping that her submissive compliance would please her tormentor and lessen the punishment plus speed her release from her torture session.

‘Yes Sir, they should be punished.’

‘Good girl and how should they, or more to the point you be punished for being a dirty slut?’

John asking her to specify her own punishment put Kimberley is a real and potentially painful dilemma. State a too mild punishment and it would be rejected and she may well receive a punishment for a poor answer, stating a more extreme punishment may result in her receiving a greater punishment than necessary. She tried to keep to the middle ground.

‘Caned Sir.’

‘Unimaginative but okay. How many and applied where.’

Kimberley’s nearly overwhelming desire to say two or three strokes on the bottom was over ridden by the fact that she had already received a devastating heavy blow to her delicate sex just for procrastinating on answering a question. With a lump in her throat and a shake in her voice she replied.

‘Three to my fanny – Sir’

Kimberley’s plan to try and please John worked, he was thrilled with how receptive she was turning out to be. Pleased but not pleased enough to let her off her punishment

‘Normally I would say six or twelve, you’re not a little five year, you’re a twenty year old who should have learnt self-control and simple decency by now. However, you are trying and it is your first time. So you’ll get just one to your naughty twat with my special fat caned. Just remember if you ever disgrace yourself again, in that way, I’ll beat your twat to pulp and you'll be drinking my piss for days. Is that clear?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘Now hold your cunt still or I’ll change my mind.’

A smiling happy John took aim again on her quivering cunt that was already beginning to swell and tuning a darker red from the first blow. The outer lips were especially looking enlarged, puffy and sore. The whole of Kimberley’s body was trembling with fear and anticipation so John built the tension by delaying the stroke for a full minute. The second blow smashed down hitting the same area as the first. This time Kimberley let out a full volume anguished squeal.

John waited 15 seconds or so before prompting his plaything.

‘And what do you say?’

‘Thank you Sir’ Kimberley croaked out.

‘For what?’

‘For helping me remember to have self-control, Sir.’

Standing silently looking down at the deepening grove created by the two, now obviously, swollen lips of Kimberley’s vagina, John considered his next move.

‘I think can help you with two things at the same time’ John  replied in a soft voice. ‘Firstly you are still having problems remembering my clear, straightforward, instructions. I had to prompt you twice in a row. First to thank me for punishing you and then again to tell me how you are going to improve your behaviour. You are also starting to look cold. I can see a few goose pimples and your two teats are looking excited or could also just be a little cold. So I’ll gently warm you up and hopefully it will help your memory. ’

The threat was very clear to Kimberley.

‘Yes Sir, I very sorry Sir. I won’t forget to thank you again or say how I’ll improve in future, Sir.’

John as already walking away as he replied over his shoulder, ‘I don’t think I asked you a question.’

A few minutes later John returned with a small bowl and matching brush in his hand. Knelling down in front of the dangling, upside down, bound woman he started to delicately paint.

Kimberley felt the soft brush lightly applying some cool liquid to the areola area of her breast. The sensation was surprisingly pleasant. The small brush circled the out edge of her areole and gradually the circles got smaller working closer to her nipple. If she was not so scared and uncomfortable the sensation could be been classified as sensual. She was waiting for the catch and it came softly in the form of a warm glow. The warm glow did not stay as just a warm glow it increased gradually to hot and finally burning. Her nipple proved to be much more susceptible to the super-hot crushed chili liquid; taking only a few seconds to go from warm to stingingly hot. John took his time working the brush’s bristles into each pore and crease. Once one nipple and its surrounding area was chemically burning John started the same procedure on the second areola. This time Kimberley could got stay passively silence. She had started to wiggle and squirm whilst quietly moaning. To continue his precise paint work John had to firmly hold her second breast to keep it still with is left hand. Even in her distraught state Kimberley noticed that John’s hands were protected by Latex gloves.

After both nipples and areolas were thoroughly cover in the chili juice John stood back and admired the effect he had created. Released form John’s grasp Kimberley body was free to twist and shake. It unclear to John if Kimberley was trying to shake the burning liquid off her body or just trying to cool her burning nipples by waving them around in the cool air. Either way it was humorous display to watch. He physically could see the pain his chillies were inflicting as Kimberley pastel pink areola and nipples slowly changed colour. Turning from soft pink to bright pink into red. Eventually they would turn to angry sunburnt red and the inflamed tissue would swell remaining hot, red, itchy and enlarged for several days.

From previous experiments John knew the initial pain would start to diminish after about ten minutes so he patiently waited the full ten minutes until he grasped hold of her free knee and pulled it down as hard as he could forcing opening the delicate inter and out lips of her sex to it full extent. Kimberley knew the awful pain John’s chili liquid would have on that part of her body and could not stop herself emitting a low piteous cry.

‘Did you want to say something?’ John asked as he ready himself with the brush.

‘Thank you Sir for punishing me. I promise ever to forget again to thank you Sir. I’ll make sure I’m perfect in future.’

‘I’m sure you will try but I believe you need a little more warming to help you.’

Before Kimberley had a chance to despond he run the wet brush along her damaged outer lips of her sex. The burning stared immediately on the damaged skin, robbing Kimberley of the power of conversional communication and replaced it with just squeaks and moans. The slow careful application of the burning liquid was much more severe on her sex than it had been on her nipples. The skin was thinner and more sensitive plus it had already received heavy chastisement from the hose pipe. Tease of pain and despair were leaking into the blindfold by the time John was working his brush along the final inner groove of her sexual opening.

This time John was too impatient stand and watch all the secret lips of folds of her sex expand into their fully swollen and inflamed state. Instead he mocked Kimberley in her pain.

‘I do like a girl with a hot cunt and that looks like a very hot cunt. Is it a nice hot cunt?’

‘It is a hot cunt Sir, thank you for punishing me and I sure I never forget to thank you again Sir.’

‘That’s going to be your new name HC for hot cunt.’

What’s your name?’

‘HC, Sir.’

‘And in full?’

‘Hot Cunt, Sir.’ Kimberley replied with hesitation.

John rotated Kimberley around so her back face him and grabbed a hand full of her buttock. He pulled the one buttock cheek off to the side. The force he applied shifted her whole body in the same direction. It also achieved what he what to achieve and that was expose her puckered rear hole.

‘Do you enjoying having a hot cunt and tits?’ John casually asked.

Kimberley again hesitated thinking hard about the best answer to give that would stop John applying is home-made chili sauce to her anus.

‘I, - I deserve to be punished for forgetting your instruction so I am pleased that you took the time to help me remember in future. If it my burning cunt and breast pleases you then I am also pleased Sir.’

The eloquent reply impressed John but did not him baiting her further.

‘Do you also deserve to have a matching burning hot arse hole?’ John asked whilst give the centre of the rear orifice a little tap with the tip of his finger just to make it twitch and tighten.

‘I deserve to be punished in any way my master wants to punish me in, Sir.’

‘Good girl that is the right answer.’

He continued to keep her buttocks pulled apart to leaver in suspense for a few seconds for releasing is hold.

‘Let’s now try and move on to the last part of your instruction for tonight. For your long term future and wellbeing it is probably the most important part. Your new role in life is as a play thing, a toy to entertain, amuse and give pleasure to your owner. If you don’t do a good job in this role you will be sold on like an old, undesirable, car. Each time you’re sold your value falls, your owner is likely to be poorer and your treatment worse. The final fate of girls that can’t keep their owners interest is the whorehouse. All whore have a very rough time in this part of the world, white ones are very rare and get singled out for special treatment. The local black boys here like to hurt and really abuse the white ones. The whorehouses aren’t adverse to making the abuse a form of public entertainment. You won’t need to worry about AIDS because no white girl will survive more than twelve months in a whorehouse here. For most it’s a lot shorter. So your job, your only job, is to make ensure your owner never tires of you. It’s that simple. So what will you do to keep his interest?’

Leaving his words to sinking in, John took a moment to swap the bowl and brush for a very thin springy cane.

The full realisation of what future was awaiting for her was still going around in her mind when John fired a question at her.

‘What are you going to do to give pleasure to your owner?’

Her mind went blank. She knew instinctively that there would be repercussions if she kept John waiting so she said the first thing that popped into her mind, the thing that all men like but she was not that keen to do.

‘Give head, Sir.’ Even as she said it she knew it was a weak reply.

Evidently John agreed as he snapped an aggressive reply.

‘Whores have been sucking dicks from the beginning of time. Use some imagination.’

With his last word he whipped the thin caned down so it whistled through the air and just caught Kimberley’s erect, hot and inflamed, nipple closest to him. The air condition's fan was still helping providing a positive benefit for John’s targeting.

Kimberley’s nipple burst into intense stinging pain. The pain combined with John’s impatient tone drove Kimberley to react quickly.

‘Yes Sir, thank you Sir. I will Sir.’

The speed of her reply did help her total blank mind.

‘Dance for him, Sir.’

The whip like caned sliced down onto her second nipple.

‘As original as sucking dick, try again.’ John’s was hard and critical.

‘Yes Sir, thank you Sir. Dance to entertain his friends.’

The caned caught the first nipple again that was still not recovered from the first strike or the chilli, it felt as though it was now being consumed by fire.

‘Slightly better, try again.’

Kimberley was just getting her brain to work and begin to think about things she had read about or seen in films as she replied again.

‘Thank you Sir. Masturbate in front of him and his friends.’

‘Getting better,’ was John’s reply as he reapplied his caned to the second nipple and made that one also feel as though it was alight. ‘But nothing that a cheap whore couldn’t do.’

Struggling to remain coherent with the pain from her two inflamed nipples also well as the deep ache and heat from her groin, Kimberley tried again.

‘Thank your Sir, I’ll try and do better. Deliberately make small mistakes so my owner needs to punish me. I could be clumsy when he has guests so he has the choice to punish me in private or in front of his friends so he can use my punishment as sport for his friends as well as a way to demonstrated is power over me.’

‘Very good girl, keep the ideas coming.’ John encouraged and this time no cane.

‘I could wait until I was busting for a wee before asking permission so my owner can watch me struggle to control myself and he can easily force me to wet myself if he wants to humiliate me. That would give him another excuse to punish me. This would also work when he has friends around or even when we are out.’

Not only was Kimberley the best looking girl John had brought to the auction she was also proving to be a creative, wanton, strumpet who was exceeding all of John’s expectation. He was interest to see how long Kimberley could keep the ideals coming.

‘You’re beginning to impress me keep the ideals coming.’

Kimberley’s first wave of ideas had run dry and she desperately wanted to continue to please her tormentor. After a short hesitation she started down a new avenue of thought.

‘If my owner has other girls I could think up games to play such as naked blind man's bluff or body painting contests. All men enjoy seeing women’s breasts bounce so I could come up with schoolgirl rope skipping games. We could add forfeits such wearing weighted nipple clips if a girl stopped the rope.’

Warming to her subject Kimberley’s mind was now full of ideals.

‘We can have naked towel flicking fights, extra point for hits on special parts of the body. If any of the other girls misbehave or don’t please my owner I could come up will unusual and amusing punishment for him to try out on them. There’s the traditional wooden pony to sit astride of. Using a vibrator to continually get her to orgasm to the point of pain and exhaustion. There is your chilies punishment to rub into different orifice or sensitive skin. Bondage things like tight rope G-strings and training bras. Or just straight bondage torture.’

John was unsure whether Kimberley was just creative or into fetishism, either way she was good. Very good and the ideas just keep coming.

‘He could make them clean the floor uses just their breasts. Lick clean his shoes. Snuff out candles using different parts of their bodies.’

John had heard all he needed to know.

‘Okay Kimberley you have done well, if you can do all that for your owner you will do well, very well.’

With that he lowered her back to the ground and removed all the restraints except for the blindfold and the cable ties holding her hands behind her back.

It was with a mixture of great relief and pain to be back upright again. Her whole body ached and her legs could not support her weight without John’s helping hand on her arm. She hoppled along, as best as she could, as John lead her back into the main living area of the dwelling. Once there he got her to sit down on a plastic kitchen chair so he could remove her shoes and hold a large drink to her lips that he gave her no choice except to drink.

The drink was thick and sweet, tasting like a combination of a milk shake and a fruit smoothie. There was no question, it was pleasant and smoothing as the gloopey liquid went down Kimberley’s throat and started to fill her empty stomach. The unnerving part was not been able to see the substance or even hold the glass as John firmly poured the drink into her.

After the drink came a shower. The tepid water blasted out of the hand held shower head. The shower head held by John as Kimberley’s hands and eyes remained incapacitated. Kimberley docilely turning when told to do so, so John had easily access to all the crevices that he wanted to fire jets of water into. The one minute hose down was followed by John pulling her chin down to clear her teeth. The final two tasks before John lead her towards the small dark cell like bedroom was a quick rub down with a towel, just to remove the water drips from her body, and cursory brush run through her hair.

A few hour before Kimberley would have been incandescent with rage at been treated like some pony that needed to be washed and rubbed down after exercise and its teeth checked. After the hours of torture, fighting just to stay alive, she was a different person. So cowered that she barely flinched as John callously, briskly, rubbed the towel over her sore nipples and used it invade the very swollen area between her legs.

Fatigue weighed down Kimberley’s body to the point that all she wanted was for John to leave her alone so she could sleep. Stumbling along in her dark world, led by John’s hand on her upper arm a new relaxing warmth started to spread through her body radiating out for her central core. It soothed her pains and aches as is flowed around her body. Even in her light headed state Kimberley knew that the potion that she had drunk must have had something in it.

The cable-ties holding her wrists and the blindfold were only removed once John had positioned her face down on a small bed. Through bleary, poorly focusing eyes Kimberley noticed the room was unlit, the only light source was the light coming into through the open door. The light lasted for the two seconds that it took John to walk quietly out of the door, closing it behind him with a clear click, which Kimberley correctly assumed was it locking. She knew she should care but she did not. She just closed her eyes and let the warmth carry her into a dreamless, pain free, sleep.

An hour of excises and a good breakfast had set John up for what John was sure would be a great and very profitable day. Life did not get better than this. It was time to wake up his new toy and start today’s fun.

Creeping into the spare room he found Kimberley sound asleep, as he expected, curled up in the foetal position, naked on the bed. Even asleep with no make-up and disarranged hair John was reminded of how good looking Kimberley was, in all departments.

Turning sideways onto the bed, so he could put more force behind his right arm, he delivered a stinging slap to her rump. The shock wave of the impact rippled across her buttock as the sound of the slap reverberated in the cell like room. A bright pink print of John’s hand appeared on the snow white skin of Kimberley’s bottom.

With a beautiful high pitch, female, yelp Kimberley jumped up to sitting, breast bouncing and for a split second anger flashed into her eyes. This was very swiftly followed by first confusion and then fear as her memory of the evening before came flooding back.

The incongruity between the good looking, well presented man in front of Kimberley and the sadistic monster who had tortured her the evening before was difficult to merge into the same man within Kimberley’s mind despite the hot stinging area on her bottom. John’s first statement did help to unify the conflicting images for Kimberley.

‘I hope you remember all the instructions and information I gave you last night, if you’re not complete clear on it all we can have a refresher lesson this morning?’

Just the threat was enough for Kimberley to feel her body tremble with cold dread.

‘I remember it all Sir.’ Was her simple reply.

John gave a cruel little smile and raised one questioning eyebrow.

‘Good, now it’s time you had some breakfast, follow me.’

As Kimberley got to her feet she was again reminded of that happen last night by her whole body aching; joints, mussels, plus some bruised and swollen areas. Her sex was still so swollen and sore she had to walk with her legs splayed out, John Wayne style.

The courteous, caring John had reappeared as he helped her to be her feet and gently guided her from the bedroom into the main, open plan, living area. This sudden switch in behaviour did not reassure Kimberley. She was far too frightened of him to try and resist his hand on the small of her back or pull away from his side. In her mind she felt like a small, vulnerable, child in a fairly story where the evil magician is pretending to be nice so he can lead his victim to her doom. Been completely naked while John was casually, but expensively, dressed and well groomed further heighten her awkwardness and embarrassment.

‘Would you like to visit the bathroom before breakfast?’ John inquired.

After ten hours of sleep it was something that Kimberley was very keen to have the opportunity to do and John’s question solved to problem of how ask for permission to go.

‘Yes please Sir, if you don’t mind?’ Kimberley replied in her best attempt to keep John happy.

Finding herself siting on the toilet in a modern, white tiled, bathroom with John leaning on the door frame looking down at her while she performed, like a two year old on the potty, was not what Kimberley had expected. John stroking her hair as she was actual urinating and telling her she was a “good girl” and that she now needed to completely wash herself got her cringing with humiliation.

At least afterwards she got to have a lukewarm, relaxing shower without John standing over her. The areas of her body where the chili had been were still too sore to cope with hot water.

Drying herself in front of the full length mirror gave Kimberley her first chance to examine the damage done to her body the evening before. In one way she was disappointed by the lack of evidence she found for the hours of anguish she had endured. Slight bruising around each ankle, a number of small dark round marks on her breasts were John’s fingers had dug in. Only two areas showed clear damage. Her nipples and areolas were bright red and swollen as though both nipples has been stung a big hornet. Both were tender to touch. The most visible damage was to her mount of Venus, that whole area was swollen and raised with dark, heavy, bruising making this shorn zone stand out even more from the rest of her very pale body. With cynical acknowledgment Kimberley knew that the damage done to her body was only going to make it more interesting from the male point of view.

John had the clothes he wanted her to wear ready when she re-entered the living area. Initially Kimberly thought this was good news until he realised it was just the high heel sandals that she wore the day before and a baby doll nightie come dress and nothing else. The baby doll thing was very short, with a plunging front made from some cheap man-made, light blue, material. In Kimberley’s mind it was only marginal better than been nude. The inviting smell of fresh ground coffee was another disappointment. John was leaning back on a big comfortable settee with a mug of fresh coffee and biscuits in front of him. Kimberley’s place was sat on the floor beside him. She was aware that she was been forced to play the role of a pet dog, sat obediently at her master’s feet, pretending to be grateful for the one banana and a drink of water provided for her breakfast.

As John enjoyed his coffee and biscuits he also took the opportunity to first stroke his new pet’s hair and then slip his hand down her top to fondle her breasts. He did not hurry is coffee but as soon his mug was empty he pulled Kimberley up from the floor and manhandled her into position. The position that Kimberley was firmly pushed into was kneeling on the edge of the settee’s seat with her head wedged down into the corner formed by the back of the settee and the seat. Once John was satisfied that her knees splayed far enough apart he forced the small of her back to arch down resulting in her damaged pussy to thrust itself towards him between her thighs.

He did not immediately take advantage of Kimberley’s arousing pose preferring to first stoke and tease Kimberley’s buttocks and openings.

All too soon for Kimberley’s very tender and bruised pussy’s point of view; her loose fitting baby doll dress was pushed up around her shoulders and John was hammered into her. She knew his was taking pleasure in slamming hard into her and causing her to wince with each thrust. One of his hands was also squeezing at her breasts and pinching and pulling at her nipples. As her breasts and nipples were nearly as bruised has her cunt lips the extra pain this coursed further ensured that Kimberley did not enjoy her fucking. One small consolation was that the onslaught did not take long.

Once John had squired is load into her and had a short rest period whilst still in position his mood changed and it was back to business.

‘That was a bit of fun, now we have someone we need to say hello to. You however don’t fucking move until I say you can and you better keep that cunt of yours firmly sealed. I don’t want you dripping onto my floor or anywhere else for that matter.’ John informed Kimberley as he withdrew himself from inside her.

The rear hem of Kimberley’s dress proved handy for John to wipe his dick clean on it as he pulled the dress back down her back. It took John a minute or two to get himself presentable again and wash his face hands and dick. Only when he was complete ready did he allow the red faced Kimberley up from her crammed position where she had spent the last two minutes diligently trying to ensure nothing leaked from her body. To her horror John immediately took her by the arm and led her out of the warm bungalow into the full steamy topical heat of the rain forest with no opportunity to clear or tidy herself.

Within 100 yards of John striding off in front and Kimberley half running along behind in her heels on the soft ground they were clear of the small group of bungalows and on the edge of a mini shanty town of wood and corrugated huts. Perspiration quickly covered Kimberley’s body causing the thin material of her dress to stick itself to her body. The combination of John’s fluid and her own sweat seeped down her inner thighs making them sticky added to Kimberley’s feelings of been exposed and degraded. Not help by still been forced to run-walk in her new bowed leg style. The shanty village was were the mine works lived. It only had a few men sitting around plus the occasional armed guard. The more numerous women and children, in the main, ignore her but the man did not. None of them bothered to be discreet regarding their salacious stares, some of the guards even added sexual gestures just to ensure Kimberley was clear about their thoughts. She felt like the cheapest, dirties, slut been paraded through the camp. It was also clear that none of these black workers and guards had any interest in helping her. Without John, who appeared to carry some authority, Kimberley was sure that she would not be safe.

Finally there reached the edge of the camp and an isolated hut that was build next to the electric fence. A painfully thin black woman had her back to them, working over a small paraffin stove. As their approached John slowed down so they reach the woman together. As the women turned to meet her guests Kimberley froze at the sometime as her heart beat went wild. She found herself looking at a living skull. Kimberley could not take her eyes off the twin horrors of the hole in the middle of her face, were her nose should have been, and the two rows of exposed white teeth surround by a large ring of scare tissue.

John spoke a few words to the woman in a language that Kimberley did not recognise and introduced her as Carsin whilst passing her a few dollars.

‘As you can see Carsin didn’t behave, so her local chief send a few of his soldiers around for a house call. That was ten year ago when she was sixteen. Their spent most of the day gang raping and generally beating her. Once she was such a mess that the soldiers no longer wanted her they made sure no one else would even want her again. She was held down as they used an army knifes to mutilate her. As you can see they cut off her nose and lips, she is also missing both nipples and I’ve been told that her sex was also mutilated. I believe the attack was meant to kill her but she was a strong young girl. The sad irony of it all is now Carsin is slowly dying of AIDS. So they did kill her after all.’

Kimberley was too shocked to form any replay to John’s description of Carsin’s history. The description of what the soldiers had done Carsin was completely factual. The only small variation from the truth was that she had been a child soldier herself. She had been captured by a rival warlord’s troops in one of the many and vicious civil conflicts that are nearly always going on somewhere in the Congo.

John had looked after Carsin for the last few years. This was not just because she proved useful by frightening the resistance out of even the hardest of John’s women. John hated what had been done to her and truly wanted to help. Even John realised this was an odd contradiction in a man involve in trafficking women into slavery. John admitted to himself that he liked dominating women, owning them and giving them an occasional smacking, that did not mean that he hated them. The opposite was true, he loved them. He just wanted to possess them. What had happened to Carsin was mindless destruction of something of beauty.

The walk back to the bungalow was much slower. This time Kimberley did not notice the men looking at her, the heat or the sweat and stickiness of her body. Her mind was consumed with the horror of what had been done to Carsin. The unrestrained cruelty of this alien country had shaken her to her core. John, her torturer and abuser, was also her only protector in this hellish land.

Back in the relative cool of the bungalow their found Van the Fan waiting for them to return, sprawled out across the settee.

‘Morning John, your soft cuddly toy looks a bit bedraggled. I hope you’ve been playing nice?’ was Van’s opening comment.

John flopped down in the seat opposite before replaying.

‘We’ve had a bit of fun, last night and more this morning. I think she’s learnt how to behave. Haven’t you Kimie?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Go and grab one of those wooden chains and bring it over here.’

John pointed to one of the old kitchen chains positioned around a small table in the kitchen and indicated that he wanted Kimberley to place it at the end of the coffee table that was between himself and Van.

Kimberley assumed this was for her to sit on, John corrected her thinking as soon as the chair was in the position he wanted.

‘Up you go, stand on the chair, Van here wants to inspect what you have to offer.’

Her treatment last night and seeing Carsin only a few minutes before had crushed all defiance from her, she was now prepared to do anything to keep John pleased with her. This did not stop her blushing as she stepped up onto the chair so the men could better scrutinise her.

John and Van took their time judging every small detail of Kimberley’s body. Deliberately treating her as a piece of meat and making the process as humiliating and dehumanising as possible whilst maximising entrainment value for themselves.

It started by John ordering her to very slowly and neatly to roll up her thin dress to fully reveal her body. The finished roll of material she had to grip with her teeth forming a self-made gag, hands placed on top of her head with her elbows out to the sides. John and Van then started to discuss each part of her body. Her swollen and bruised sex, or camel’s toe as Van preferred to call it, still glisten from John’s fluid was a butt of crude humour. Having debated the size and sag factor of her tits and whether one was large that the other they decided to explore their bounce-ability. Kimberley was initially told to jig up and down on her toes, the resulting wobble this caused her breast to perform was not considered good enough. So she was forced to jump up and down, still on the chair with her hands on her head. Her heavy breast bumping up and down, traveling in the opposite direction to her body, was not comfortable for Kimberley to say the least and as she tired she felt more and more unstable on the chair The two men delighted by the sight of her bouncing orbs let Kimberley continue until she was in imminent danger of failing off the chair and both breasts ached at their roots.

Finished with her front they turned their attention to her back view by making her turn around. This mainly consisting of a critical summary of her muscle definition in her legs , how tightly they could clinch in her waist to accentuate her hourglass figure and a general conversation about the size of her bum. Should it be even bigger or would it then be flabby. To further analyse the desirability of her rear she was commanded to touch her toes whilst keeping her legs straight and her feet together. Through her dancing Kimberley was fairly flexible and could easily do as she was asked.

Van liken the resultant view to a long, upside down pear, with a slit running down its length. Both her taut, puckered, anus and moist sex presented themselves for the men’s perusal between her snow white, moon like, buttocks. Debating whether her anus was virginal or not and if it required stretching did not keep the men’s attention for long so to add additional interest Kimberley was compelled to make her arse dance whilst still touching her toes. To encourage more energetic gyrations John and Van started to throw coins. These were not coins thrown as a reward, they were thrown as hard as possible as a punishment for perceived lack of movement. The game was to try and get one lodged into either of her rear orifices. None came close, however, they still stung as their edges hit the back of her thighs and buttocks, each hit leaving a small vertical red mark. The game ended once both man had run out of change, by that time Kimberley’s rear was bobbing up and down and swinging from side to side with such fervour that her breast had also joined the show swing out from either side of her body impacting on her own chin in their travels.

Kimberley was still in mid gyration when John just appear beside her and grapping a handful of her hair dragged her off the chair. He held her head down at his waist height as he pulled her the few steps to the coffee table at the same time picking up a coin that had rebounded off its target onto the floor. Lobbing the coin to Van he asked Van to toss it. Van announce, with disappointment in his voice, tails.

‘That means I get heads, first’ John gloated.

‘I had to put up with the old stringy one all last night and you’ve already had this ripe young one once already today.’ Van complained but is voice did not sound serious.

A raised eyebrow from John and a questioning look allowed an unspoken communication to pass between the two friends before John replied.

‘I’m just checking that she knows how to perform to your high standards.’

Kimberley had released the rolled up dress from her month but as her body was held down horizontally the material remained bunched up in a circle under her arm pits and above her breasts. John got Kimberley to clamber onto the wooden coffee table, using her knees, leaving her knelling with her body pushed down so she was bent double.

It was not difficult for Kimberley to anticipate what she would be told to do next. Undoing is trousers first, John sat back down, his erect manhood in front of Kimberley’s face.

‘I’m sure you know what to do, make sure you build it up slowly. Kiss and tease my nob and balls. I want your tongue to push hard into its little grove. And no hands, hands are cheating.’

To reach her target Kimberley had to spread her knees apart to get her body and head low enough. Her hands gripping the edge of the table to give her some support as she extended head out and down. John made no effort to make Kimberley’s task easier. He proceeded to ignore Kimberley and her administrations as he lent back and started to talk to Van the Fan again.

‘I always try to ensure I’ve shot off one load before getting a blow job. I like to make the bitches work as they slobber and slurp away.’

Van had originally planned to put Kimberley on her back and force his dick right down her throat, once John had finished with her. The problem was John was deliberately taking as long as possible to come, forcing Kimberley to toil away and himself to wait. With Kimberley’s round rear, stretched taut and open in front of him, bobbing nicely in unison with her head, Van lost patience and decided on another way to satisfy himself. Nipping to the bathroom he returned with a large jar of Vaseline. He smeared a liberal amount down Kimberley’s bum crack and pushed a gob of the jelly up into her anus. Both men could feel Kimberley’s rhythm falter as she became distracted from the task that her month was doing by the apprehension of what was going to happen to her other end. John gave a motivational speech to try and ensure Kimberley continue to service him as well as Van.

‘If you get side tracked just because Van is going to ream out your arse I’ll force something up your tight little arse hole the size of which you and your hole will never forget.’

Kimberley tried desperately to just put out of her mind what Van was doing. The men had been right earlier on, that private and dirty place, in Kimberley’s mind, was virginal. A few of her loves had succeeded in putting a finger up it but Kimberley had not been comfortable about that and nothing else had succeeded in gained access. This time Kimberley knew she just had to accept being buggered. She knew it was going to be a little painful but lots of both man and woman inure it, some even like it, so she attempted to just let it happen. Initially it was not too bad. Van gently eased the head of his penis into her well lubricated body. The starting thrusts were also small and gentle. This was just the initial wavelets of an impending storm. The gentle start was for Van’s own comfort not Kimberley’s. Van was a big ex-army man, his strong hands clamped down on her hips and the force and depth of his attack slowly build until he was driving the full length of is tool into her inners. As her anus stretched further than nature had even intended it to be stretched, Kimberley was convinced that her body would rip. The intense pain both at the opening and deep within her caused Kimberly to whimper and struggle. This just encouraged Van more. With this grievous onslaught to her rear hole plus Van’s body weight slapping into her buttocks with every thrust she found sucking John at the same time impossible, although she did try hard to continue.

The excitement of the situation also affected John. He too was no longer willing to just let Kimberley’s head bob up and down on him, especial as she was no longer doing a good job, so he took charge of the situation. Gripping her head between his hands he controlled the rhythm and more concerning, to Kimberley, the length of his tool he forced into her month. The hard tedious work of sucking and trying to get John to come was replace by John brutally forcing his penis nearly down her throat. Breathing became increasing difficult as she was gagging and coughing simultaneously. As both men got close to reaching their climaxes, Kimberley’s was working hard to suppress her gag reaction and not vomit. The more she struggle and squirmed, chocked and squealed the more excited and brutal both men became. Kimberley realised that her pain and struggling was exciting both men but it was a vicious circle that she was incapable of controlling. Van, with gritted teeth and muscles bulging, shuddered to a stop first with his tool bury up to its hilt in her rear. John’s fluid hit the back of Kimberley’s throat a few seconds later. Exhausted and hurting, Kimberly dutifully swallowed the bitter, salty, and liquid down knowing that any other option would not be acceptable.

John just pushed the inert form of Kimberley off the table with a few choice words.

‘We’re bored with you now and have no desire to see your dribbling body, or put up with your smell.’

As Van stood up, heading to the bathroom, he also joined the conversation.

‘Christening that tight, virginal, butt hole was fun. Not so tight now my big dick has been up it.’ Van laughed to himself.

‘I was having a nice relaxing blow job until you decided to butt fuck the life out of her.’ John called out to Van’s retreating back. The only reply he got back was a nonchalant shrug from Van.

Only 24 hours earlier Kimberley had been thinking that she had joined the jet set now she felt like a piece of meat to be used and abused in any way that the perverted minds of these two men could think up. Both her rear and throat felt severely damaged. She knew that she was totally powerless in this new world. However, as she lay on the floor in the foetal position, one hand covering her anus and the other rubbing her throat, she vowed to herself that she would do more than just survive; somehow she would get her revenge.

The two men had finished with their toy so she was left for ten minutes before John made her move again. The next two hours she was ordered to work out to a Pilates and then a keep fit DVD. Access to the bathroom was only given after the she had completed the first Pilates exercises and a light lunch and water was provided.

Before stating the excises she was given an old bra to wear. John had explained that he did not want her milk sacks saggier than they were already. The exercise mat was an old beach towel. Dirty, soiled, aching and with the taste of semen in her month she started the work out. At first this felt like it was just another punished. As time progressed Kimberley started to feel better. The men were busy and not in the room all the time so she was left totally alone for long periods. Stretching and using her muscles again slowly eased her joint pains and made her felt stronger and less defenceless.

As Kimberley was close to finishing the keep fit DVD John walked back into the room with Roxanne in tow carrying two bags.

‘She is all yours, do a good job or else.’ John announce to the room is general although the statement was for Roxanne. He then left the two women alone, Van the Fan had left so time before.

Apart from the simple clothes Roxanne was wearing she looked unchanged to the sweaty, soiled Kimberly whose only item of clothing was the dirty bra. Roxanne approach hesitantly at first and then rushed the last few steps to take Kimberley in her arms and hugged her. Silent tears flowed form Kimberley as Roxanne tried to console her and whispered how sorry she was about leading her into this terrible predicament.

Once the emotion of the reunion was waning Roxanne started to explain what was going to happen. An auction was planned for that evening and Kimberley was to be sold to the highest bidder. The task of making Kimberley look her best and therefore maximising the money paid was with Roxanne. This revelation, although fearful to Kimberley, was not a complete surprise. She had already half guessed what the future had in store. It was just the cold reality of what she feared was actually going to happen and so soon. She hated John and now also Van, however, they were still an order of magnitude better than standing on an auction block and being sold to an unknown pervert who could do absolutely anything to her.

Whilst Roxanne got her into the shower she explained her plan.

‘Look Kimie I know this is bad. Unbelievably fucking bad but you still have some things in your favour and you need to make sure you use them to the very best of your ability for both our sakes. John didn’t want me. I’m too old and skinny to make any serious money for them so it’s likely I am going to end up in god forsaken local brothel for the mine works. With luck you can save me. You need to catch the eye off one of the powerful and rich chiefs or warlord around here. Remember the more they pay for you the better you will be treated and indirectly the more power you can get. Men are just like small children, they want to own what all their friends want. So we have got to get every single person who sees you to want you. These guys have power and money that can only be dreamed of in the west so they have woman and hookers by the score. We need to make you something special, something that can’t normally be brought. Van told me the top warlord in this part of the Country, a man called Charles Lubanga, educated in Belgium and France plus he has a house in London, could be at the auction tonight. He indirectly owns this mine and most of North West Congo comes under his control. Everyone is frightened of him. If you could catch him and be his mistress, he could easier save me and long term we both might get out of this hell-hole.’

The practice approach offered by Roxanne did hold some logic to Kimberley and a small amount of hope. If she had to be sold into slavery at least she would try and be a very expensive one.

The two women work together to try and create the prefect image. The professionalism and equipment Roxanne had in her bags amazed Kimberley. This included a light dressing gown, mouth wash, top quality makeup and nail varnish. Kimberley knew how to make herself up; Roxanne however was in a different league. Roxanne revealed herself to be true artist who could create any images she wanted. She wanted to discreetly emphasize what Kimberley nearly was already; a pale, nervous, beautifully English rose. The makeup and nail varnish were all understated and natural looking. The only exception was Kimberley’s dark eyes that Roxanne did allow herself to fully highlight.

The artistry had taken hours and during the whole time the two women had the bungalow to themselves. Roxanne was just laying out the clothes she had decided that Kimberley should wear when John walked back in.

‘Great work.’ Was all he said as he walked passed heading to his bedroom. Roxanne stood back from the siting Kimberley so she could peer around to bedroom door to see what John was up.

Telling Kimberley to remain were she was whilst she would just check that John was happy about the clothes Roxanne followed John into the bedroom without any of the clothes. Coming up behind John she wrapped one arm around his waist and plucked the butt plug from his hand whilst simultaneously whispering into his ear.

‘No, if that hole got any bigger you could park the local bus up it.’

John’s only replay was to raise one eyebrow and pick on pair of love balls from the bag on this bed. Roxanne sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling.

‘If you must but you've got to stuff then up her, I’m not doing it, I’m her friend. A couple of cans of Redbull and a pint of water might also energise her, keep her moving and give her that rounded swollen lower belly look that the locals love.’

With that Roxanne released John and strolled back in the other room without waiting for a reply.

Kimberley was half dressed when John interrupted the two women, having waited for the ideal moment. The matching set of black, lacy, semi-transparent bra, thong and suspenders were in place. As were the seamed stocking and Roxanne was just bringing over the white blouse as John stepped forward.

The bra was a great piece of design. It looked flimsy with absolutely the minimum of material used; nevertheless it firmly pushed Kimberley’s sizable attributes together and upwards creating an amazing cleavage. Adding to the attraction was the fact that Kimberley’s two white pillows looked like they were just on the point of breaking free of their confinement.

The stocking and suspenders, that John always enjoyed, formed a frame around the target point. The target beings the tight thong’s front triangle of semi-transparent material that just highlighted and pushed out the pouting lips of her swollen sex.

The whole outfit was deliciously sexy, complete with Kimberley’s dark glossy hair and sultry looks. It was not just the look that stopped John for a second or two, it was Kimberley’s dark eyes. Fear, resentment, and just a hint of defiance could all be seeing in the mysterious windows to her soul.

Breaking himself free of the spell John abruptly used her shoulder to spin her around. Physically pushing her over and using a voice that was not open to any questioning John got Kimberley to bend over and touch her toes. Pulling the tight gusset of her thong to one side he looped the string of the love balls onto the thong before forcing the lubricated balls up her love channel. The thong was then carefully repositioned locking the balls into their new warm moist home.

Roxanne continued where she left off dressing Kimberly as though nothing had happened, yet something was happening inside Kimberley. With any movement the balls moved inside her and their internal weights vibrated. Whilst this was all going on John brought out two cans of Redbull plus a pint of water.

‘Drink those all now, the Redbull should liven you up and you’ll need the water.’

John stood looking at her to ensure she fully complied whilst Roxanne wrestled the skirt up Kimberley’s legs and over her hips. It was so tight around her waist that John had to help by pulling the material together whilst Kimberly sucked in her stomach and Roxanne worked the hooks and zip on the skirt.

Once the skirt was locked into position sitting down was completely out of the question for Kimberly. Just breathing was difficult as the skirt’s waist band cut a deep inch and a half wide groove into her waistline creating an extreme hour glass affect. The liquid she had been forced to drink added to the discomfort as it distended her lower gut.

It took a further 20 minutes of final adjustments for Roxanne and John to get Kimberley looking just the way they wanted. The last item to be added was the most disturbing for Kimberley, even worse than the love balls. A heavy chromed chain chocker was clipped around her neck with what appeared decorative rings hanging from it. Their decorative nature was only secondly, Kimberley quickly realised they were mainly functional. Using a long white rope John firmly, but gently, tied Kimberley’s hand behind her back. Using the long loose ends he secured them to the back of the chocked, pulling her hands up her back until they were just above the small of her back with her elbows protruding out on either side.

‘That makes sure you are totally defenceless and all your would-be buyers can see that lovely round arse of yours and slim waist. And just in case you misbehave I can give your botty and good caning, with no hands in the way, and your customers can see how well it bounces and quivers.’

Despite John’s voice sounding friendly and jovial, Kimberley now knew better. This was no joke.

With a simple dog's lead clipped to the front of the chocked John led her out of the bungalow and into the hot tropical evening. Feeling nauseas with anxiety and trepidation Kimberley hobbled along behind. The five inch stilettos heels on the soft uneven ground; the super tight, knee hobbling, pencil skirt that restricted her to small steps and her bound arms unavailable to help her balance or protected herself should she topple all meant Kimberley was compelled to concentrated hard just to remain upright. Her sore body, even her stretched rear entry, were forgotten. What could not be ignored and tried their very best to distract her were the love balls that moved and oscillated inside her with every step. Doing what they were designed to do, sexually simulate and arouse her.

The five minute walk to the darken build from which western music was radiating was a battle of self-control. The final three steps up to the build’s door were particularly onerous. This was the last few steps to Kimberley’s auction block so her anxiety was at a peak and climbing the steps were also physically challenging in the tight skirt. The only way she could climb the steps was to cross one thigh in front of the other whilst twisting her hips. This got her up the steps but the move also resulted in the balls been tweezed inside her love tunnel and been driven upward, deeper into her in their trembling way. Kimberley silently gasped with each step and not in an unpleasant way. By the top step Kimberley found herself biting her bottom lip in an attempt to gain back some control over her body. The situation was made even more frustrating and shaming by John’s gloating smile as he gently flicked one of Kimberley’s aroused, erect, nipples through the thin material of the bra and blouse. It just demonstrated his total control of both her and her body.

‘You are such a dirty and lovely little whore. You’re nearly ready to come in your knickers. It’s time to sell that wanton cunt of yours to someone who will enjoy playing with it.’

With that John opened the door and led her into the room. They were welcomed with a chore of cheers and clapping from the men inside. Some even managed to slap her rear as her was led passed them.

The room looked like a typical workingmen’s club. One large square room with a bar down one side. It smelt of bear and hot male bodies most of whose were black large dangerous looking men. The few white men in the room were mercenary army types. In the centre of the room was old robust looking table with three spot lights focussed on to it. As soon as Kimberley saw it she knew that was to be her auction platform. Getting up onto it was not simple. John handled it fairly smoothly by making Kimberly first sit on the table and then swinging her legs up. By standing on a chair beside the table he graphed her by her upper arms and managed to lift her forwards and upwards onto her feet. As soon as her was standing John immediately headed to the bar leaving her flood lit and very isolated.

Lauren Rogers, otherwise known by her old working name of Roxanne, went back to her room to shower and change. She did not always bother to go to the auctions especially when it was just eastern European hookers been sold off. Tonight would be special, a true home countries, upmarket, English lady, or at least as close as any of the men in the auction room were likely to get and she was expecting a record breaking price. So for this auction she wanted to see the action. She knew John would leave the meat on display for half an hour or so just so the customers would have plenty of time to fantasize about what they wanted to do to her, before he started the auction. Plus it allowed late comes time so they did not to miss the fun.

Forty minutes later Lauren slipped in through the front door of the room accompanied by her hired help, Van the Fan. John was already doing his thing, standing of on a chair working the crowd by extolling the assets of the delicate English damsel on the auction table.

Lauren self-congratulated herself on the sexy, 1930’s school teacher look she had created. The tight, tailored, white blouse that was gapping slightly between the buttons across Kimberley’s bust, top three buttons undone to show off the cleavage. Lauren was unsure whether it was the carefully positioned air conditioning outlet or John’s love balls doing the work, either way Kimberley’s nipples were doing a good job of trying to poke their way through the thin material. Originally she had been a little concerned that the black pencil skirt would look too austere, it wasn’t. It did all the right things to accentuate Kimberley’s curves and slim waist. The fact that the outlines of the suspender straps were also visible was an added bonus. Kimberley herself was also playing the role well, darting nervous eyes that looked like she was trying to hold back the tears. The frightened, innocent, English rose ready for plucking.

The sales spiel from John faltered for a second and a momentary hush descended on the room as Charles Lubanga entered the room, much to the obvious delight of both Lauren and John. Kimberley also noticed the expensively suited black man that entre from a back door with an elegant, coffee coloured, tall woman in tow. He radiated power as a cleared table and two chairs immediately appear from the crowd. Anybody in front of the table shuffled sideways to ensure they did obscure his and is woman’s view. Kimberley had found her mark. At the same time she caught sight of the woman she knew as Roxanne tucked away in the corner with Van the Fan and the whole set-up finally dropped in place. She had been targeted and set up so it was not just John and Van she now wanted to get even with. A deadly cold desire for revenge on the woman she had called a friend filled her soul and there was only one person in the room with the power to help her with her quest.

A new chant was coming from the mass of men around her and it harshly brought Kimberley back to her current predicament.

‘Striper her, striper her, striper her.’

John held out his hands for silence and eventually got it.

‘This isn’t some Russia whore to be stripped for your entertainment. You have before you an English lady, and lady of breeding and refinement. If you want to see her naked you’re going to have to put your hand in your pocket and buy her, if you can afford her?’

For the first time since she had arrived in this Country Kimberley was actually grateful to John despite the fact that she knew he was only protecting the perceived quality of the item for sale and thereby her price tag.

‘However, just as a small consolation prize, for all of you who won’t be able to afford is beautiful English lady, would you like her to dance for you?’

As the audience was all shouting “Yes” John went to the bar and come back waving a black riding crop.

‘Just in case the filly needs some extra encourage.’

His shout was greeted with even more cheers and whistles.

Kimberley immediately started to move, hardly dancing more just swaying.

She has trying to play a complicated game, dancing gave her more opportunity to catch the attention of the local Warlord’s eye, however, she did not want to come across as a cheap exhibitionist happy to flaunt herself. She wanted to be perceived as a timid, shy, lady coerced to perform. She also did not want the humiliation and pain of been publicly beaten by the crop.

As Kimberley gently swayed on her platform John sensually stroked the crop up and down her calf. Each time going slightly high until the end of the crop was disappearing for view up her skirt.

‘Let’s see that arse of your really move and grind. You can get your tits moving to.’

His command to Kimberley was accompanied by a shout to the bar to liven up the music.

Within the constraints of have her arms pulled up her back and a skirt that limited her leg movement Kimberley did a fair job. She just closed her eyes, at least for most of the time, and just tried to go with the music. As her hips twisted and rolled the balls inside her also moved and their internal weights oscillated. It was impossible for Kimberley to ignore their sexual stimulation and they also seemed to do something to her bladder. Not surprisingly it was full and now making it presences felt.

The auction got stated and the currency called out was grams, grams of uncut diamonds. Initially the price rose fast. When the bidding started to slow John got everyone’s attention by give Kimberley a firm whack on the backside with the crop. The noise of the impact and Kimberley’s startled jump reminded the excited crowd of the things they could do to the English woman if they owner her.

‘Your admirers want to see your really dance so put some effort in. I what to see you sweat.’

John’s statement was just an excuse for using the crop.

The sting across her bottom had caught Kimberley totally unawares. As a result her whole body had leap forward with a violent jerk and she let out a gasp, loud enough to be clearly heard over the music. The gasp was not caused by the sting to her bottom. It was Kimberley fighting to remain in control of two other aspects of her body, both centred in her groin area. The sudden motion had an equally sudden effect on the balls and her bladder.

In Kimberley mind the stroke with the crop had also gave her the excuse to lose all her inhibitions from her dancing. The fact that she was also finding both her situation and the love balls inside very sexually arousing helped. Fundamentally Kimberley was a logical and practical fatalist. Fate appeared to be ensuring she was going to end up in the very near future as someone sex slave. The practical side of her nature said, if that is the future make the most of it and be the best at it. She had been using her sexuality to get what she wanted since puberty. This was no different except she was now playing for must bigger stakes.

The bidding started again soon breaking all the house records as Kimberly used her pelvis in the most erotic way she knew.

Although Kimberley kept her eyes closed most of the time. This did not stop her from ensure she knew who were the bidders. It came down to two big, overweight, men both of whom had cold aggressive eyes. Charles Lubanga had not made a bid despite Kimberley casting him her best pleading glances. She was close to giving up hope as the two men continued their bidding war against each other. In final desperation she turned and as just dancing for the Warlord begging him with her eyes to save her. It worked. He raised a finger and nearly doubled the last bid. The room first went quiet and then the cheering started. John and Lauren struggled to believe their good fortune and even the two fat men looked somewhat relieved.

Kimberley was lifted off the table by John who reattached the lead the led her to a happy looking Charles Lubanga and his very indignant looking woman.

Ideally for Kimberley, Charles had push his chair away from the table so he had a better view his new property been brought over to him. Kimberly knew the importance of first impressions and she was determined to try and make one her Warlord would not forget. With her eyes cast down and nervously biting her bottom lip she approach the man who had brought her as a shy, frighten, completely submissive slave. This did not stop her from also rolling her hips and generally exuding sex appeal. As soon as the leash had been past across to her new owner she squatted down as low as possible before awkwardly tipping forward into a kneeing position. Her forward momentum meaning that her hips came to rest against his thigh.

Bending forward, using his leg to support her low body she managed to bring he lips down to his hand holding the lead and kissed it gently and with reverence. Against John’s instruction she followed this by a short opening speech.

‘Thank you my Lord for buying me. I am truly, truth grateful and will always try my very best to pleasing and serve you in everything I do’.

She spoken in a soft mumble just loud enough for Charles to hear

‘And why are you so please that I brought you?’ Charles inquired in a soft, curious voice with a French sounding accent.

It was the opening that Kimberley had been hoping for.

‘Because John is a very bad man, he hurt me, he did horrible, painful, things to me.’ Kimberley continued on in a shy, little girl voice with her eyes focus down onto Charles’ lap. ‘Before the auction he forced me to drink lots and lots of water. Would you please allow your new slave to use the bathroom? I really need to go urgently and I don’t want to embarrass you by having a humiliating accident in front of all these people.’

Charles used his hand, which was still holding her lead, under her chin to lift her head up and looked into her big dark sad and begging eyes and smiled. He could feel her hips restlessly squirming against his leg. She had been very expensive but he already knew that he was going to have fun with this one.

‘I think that secretly you enjoy been the centre of attention and those balls that I know John would have put up your cunt has turned you on.’

As Charles was talking he pushed back with his thigh rubbing it against her. Whilst still holding her chin his other hand reached across and first pinched her hard nipple them grasped and squeezed the breast through her blouse.

Pain, shame and sexual arousal all mixed together with an intoxicating effect in Kimberley’s head.

‘Perhaps I should make you earn the right to use the bathroom by more dancing for my friends or maybe a bit of skipping?’ Charles asked with an impish grin.

Kimberly knew she had achieved her first goal of getting Charles’ complete attention now she needed to start playing her game.

‘Perhaps I should my Lord.’ Kimberley replied very slowing looking shyly deep into Charles eyes. She then took two seconds demurely looking down before looking back into Charles’ eyes. This time she fractionally increased the pressure she was apply again Charles’ leg and lent into the hand holding her breast. Again she was nervously biting her bottom lip. With just a little mischievous glint in her eyes she added.

‘Perhaps I should, if it would give my Lord; pleasure; to watch me?’