THE SEARCHER / CAMP OF ANGELS - PART 6
CHAPTER 11
"Stand back to back, to attention, no talking or moving, Miss Mitzie
will be here presently."
Mr Garth had marched Rosemary and Mark in the early morning from their
quarters, to a small secluded fenced off area behind the camp's living quarters.
Then he had made them remove their skimpy attire and stand nude.
She looked briefly around the 'garden' as best she could by moving just
her eyes. It was about 30 metres by 20, a hot, forgotten wilderness of parched
wilted grass and small boulders. Unusually a large iron box, like a closed
coffin with a small grill set at one end, stood embedded in the hard ground,
almost like a harsh outdoor version of their enclosed beds.
It was the beginning of another warm day and she began to feel that heat
where she stood. It was bright too, her eyes squinted as she was obliged to
face the sun. That box would she thought become a sun-trap, like an oven within
a few hours, indeed little thermal waves of warm distorted air already floated
gracefully above it.
"Ah, the love-birds," announced Miss Mitzie, striding into the garden to
stand by the two still, figures. She stood right up against them, teeth
flashing, intimidating. "So, we must deal with your behaviour yesterday. You
both openly communicated, or maybe worse, in direct contravention of
regulations, not just a discreet whisper. Anything to say? You first
Michelle."
Mark cringed inwardly thinking of how, forgetting his wife his protective
feelings towards the gorgeous creature alongside him had slowly grown over the
last week or two. He knew that they were not fully reciprocated but it was so
frustrating working and performing alongside someone so beautiful and under such
provocative circumstances. His impotent rage would boil inwardly within him
when he heard the vicious bastards running this place laying into or callously
using her loveliness, especially when he was powerless to assist her. It
offended his male pride.
Their current 'crime' had taken place yesterday. He had seen Rosemary
stumble in her exhausted state returning to their quarters after the races.
Instinctively he had held her, his arms protectively around her, supporting her,
asking if she was all right. He still recalled the wonderful feel of her body,
hot and soft against his hardness and the womanly smell of her. She had
momentarily pressed her softness against him, writhing a little as he
accidentally touched some of the red stripes of torment faintly decorating her
body. The hard tips of her breasts brushing his arm, her hand resting on his
chest gave him an immediate erection.
Maybe her touch was accidental, instinctive, or a result of her recent
'training?' No matter, he had felt a man again for that moment. His act had
been voluntary rather than the decreed following of orders in their love
lessons. He recalled the times when he had to simply stand and watch when
someone such as Mr Garth was allowed to make wonderful love to Rosemary - and
how she so obviously enjoyed it. Also frustrating was him knowing how, at the
snap of fingers, the Arab hulk could have her or any of the other girls sit
naked on his lap whilst he gave orders and direction for the next lesson. The
bastard would fondle their lush fruit at will, maybe them having to continuously
kiss his body whilst he spoke, seemingly ignoring their attention. Here, the
ripe loveliness of any woman was his for his touching and taking - a bitter
contrast to his own predicament.
Fate had decreed he and Rosemary to be out of sight of the guards. She
had stumbled again, or he had perhaps lowered her? He couldn't remember which.
He only knew that she was on the ground and he on top of her. How often had Mr
Garth casually, yet so possessively, stroked, perhaps playfully smacked the
gorgeous bottom he now held and cupped in his shaking hands - scarcely believing
he was doing so! Gently, he leaned forward, his lips brushing hers, feeling
them part under his, her tongue touching his. Then, she raised her haunches
slightly her softness opening under his hardness. Before he could stop himself
or even think about the consequences, he had sunk into her, her ripe lips
pouting, waiting. He would never forget her eyes opening wide in surprise, had
he gone so far! But then they softened with mischievous desire and she drew him
skilfully deeper in, her hips writhing, her muscles gripping him wonderfully,
sucking. He was truly a man again.
She was wonderfully hot and wet; her mouth a whirlpool of desire as they
rocked so quickly and urgently together to explode in a climax of joint
pleasure. On hearing their names called they just managed to disengage and he
was again helping her to her feet when Miss Wang and Mr Garth stormed into
sight.
"I-I'm sorry Mr Garth, Miss Wang," Mark had grovelled, "Trixie slipped
and I-I helped her up. She was tired after the races, she ran so well and I
didn't want her to be injured before she was bought by someone." With his lies
he tried to provide purely commercial motives for his action. It was true,
however, he realised that indeed the lovely woman would be sent to someone who
would possess her utterly for a few months whilst he would be dispatched
elsewhere and they would never meet again!
Garth and Wang obviously suspected more had taken place than a simple
act of falling and support, but they had no way of knowing. No matter, merely
communicating or touching without permission was forbidden here. Miss Wang,
putting them on report, ensured they would suffer on the assumption that two
Angels had dared to either talk, or enjoy each other's bodies, without
permission!
Slap!
"Well?" Miss Mitzie demanded, her hand cracking across his face, making
it sting with humiliating pain, jerked him from his daydream of lust, "have you
anything to say?" Her black fingers traced over the tautness of his chest, the
nails scoring painfully almost drawing blood, making him cringe.
"Sorry Miss, No Miss. I was just helping Trixie after she stumbled."
"Bollocks," snapped the Negress, "she gave you a f___ing hard on and you
wanted to cop a feel. You," she pointed at the blonde, "what do you have to say
- slut?"
"I-I'm sorry Miss Mitzie, I did stumble and Michelle helped me up. I
was so tired, please forgive me, I don't recall if he actually spoke," Rosemary
pleaded - in vain.
"More f---ing bollocks, yes?" spat Miss Mitzie into the blonde's face,
inches from it, making her rapidly blink. "You would have got up by yourself I'm
sure and if you couldn't then someone would have been ordered to attend to you.
You should have pushed the bastard away and reported him for infringing the
rules - right girl?"
"Y-yes Miss," she whispered uselessly.
"If these bullshit excuses are the best you two can do, you deserve what
you're going to get. We have an example to set the other Angels," she added
ominously.
The injustice of the cutting remarks burned into Mark but sensibly he
remained silent. He knew that if he stepped back just a fraction his bare
bottom would touch hers. A thrill went through him at the thought of that
forbidden erotic contact but he knew it was something he daren't seriously
consider. She was so near yet so far. More importantly, Miss Mitzie's cane was
sliding through her fingers and she was looking at his penis. It wilted under
her gaze as he imagined the cane slashing down across it. More sweat beaded his
brow, he felt sick.
Swack!
"Huh," he gasped as the Negress, without warning, lashed it across the
top of his buttocks. It could have been worse, he thought as he absorbed the
intense burning pain.
"Stand straighter my dears," she snapped making both figures
automatically thrust out their chests a little more. "Miss Wang devised this
particular punishment and she will now explain it to you both."
Rosemary felt her stomach knot in apprehensive dread as the spiteful
little Chinese girl arrived on cue and turned to her.
"So, f---king out of turn eh," she gripped Rosemary's chin between her
fingers, her eyes boring into her victim's. "You," she purred, "will take nice
rest in box over there whilst Michelle do hard work moving stones. It a hot day
so plenty of water for him to drink - none for you I afraid. It get very hot
and unpleasant in there." Rosemary's eyes opened wider in dread, flicking to the
box with the heat waves rising from it. She sub-consciously licked her lips.
"How long you spend in there depend on how long it take him to move stones,"
Miss Wang smiled. "It do your humility some good to be totally dependant on
fellow Angel. Understand?"
"Yes Miss," Rosemary knew the futility of saying anything more.
"You," Miss Wang addressed Mark, "will please move all stones," her
out-swept hand indicated scores of huge rocks in a rough pile, "from where last
naughty Angel piled them. "You carry them over there," she indicated a point
around 15 metres away across the garden, "every single one of them," she
emphasised.
Rosemary realised what a daunting task Mark had been set, and wondered
how long it would take? She again licked her lips when Miss Wang produced from
a cool-box a large container of water in which ice cubes tinkled merrily.
"Not for you," Miss Wang smiled. "While you lay in little sauna wishing
you could lick just one drop of water, Michelle will have different problem. He
have litres of it whilst he work but he no pee. If he does piss, he move all
stones back - then start again. Oh I forget one detail," she added with a cruel
smile, "Michelle no be able to see, he wear this," she held up a tight leather
hood." So Trixie be his eyes. You two want talk - so you shall. Trixie guide
him by shouting through grill where to pick up and drop the rocks. I hope you
no get too thirsty and hoarse otherwise he not hear you," she smiled at the
horrified look on the faces of them both.
Without further ado she pulled the hot leather hood over Mark's already
sweating head, leaving only his ears and mouth visible.
"Come," Mr Garth clicked his fingers for Rosemary to follow him to the
box. She almost cringed back at the wall of heat enveloping her as he lifted the
heavy iron lid. "In," there was no compassion in his eyes - she had
broken a rule.
Following his directions, she gingerly lay down on her belly on the
brown sacking floor. She needed no reminder to avoid touching the metal sides.
Sweat seemed immediately to trickle from every pore and pooled in her eye
sockets as she lay on the smelly lining.
"Take short panting breaths, it maybe better," he advised.
She felt a terrible feeling of claustrophobia as the lid closed,
trapping more dreadful heat. Every breath made her gasp and she indeed found it
better to just take shallow ones. Her view of the world was limited through the
small grill to just the garden area before the box. She saw the naked, stocky
figure of Mark, cruelly masked, finishing two long glasses of iced water which
she would have dearly loved herself. Instinctively she again licked her lips.
Then as the figure reached out blindly, questing, Miss Wang told her to begin
giving him directions to the first rocks.
Progress was so slow. Several times she could have screamed in
frustration as the sightless figure stumbled past the rocks she was trying to
direct him to. Was he stupid? No, she mustn't think like that. That was what
they obviously wanted - divide and conquer.
The effort of calling out - loud enough for him to hear several metres
away - cost her parched throat dear. Then his muscles would bulge around the
heavy weight as he staggered again under her directions to the slowly - too
slowly - growing pile.
-----------------------------------------
She didn't know how long she had been so imprisoned but, it seemed that,
several times - like now - she watched Miss Wang insisting Mark have another
drink and hearing the merry tinkle of water rushing over ice - making her own
predicament even worse. Her lungs burned, she was breathing too deeply, too
quickly in frustrated panic. If she could get out, she would she knew have
practically killed him for just one drop of that beautiful water - yet she could
hear him groan in protest at having to drink it! Wild thoughts rushed through
her head of directing Mark towards her box and whispering for him to hold some
water in his mouth and spit it at her as he passed, but she knew the futility
and impossibility of that. In any case, Miss Wang would be somewhere near, but
out of her limited sight.
Mark's bladder was full to bursting. From his original recollection, before the
tight hot leather had obscured his vision, there were probably many more rocks
to move. What wouldn't he have given to be allowed to rest his aching muscles,
and also those of his straining bladder, his body groaned. In normal
circumstances he would have simply stopped for a quick wee and a rest and then
carried on but he knew that he must simply try and control himself and carry on.
To do otherwise was unthinkable.
That croaking voice whispered across to him again. Instinctively,
impatient anger gripped him. He wished the bitch would speak up, give clearer
directions so he could get this over with. Then he recalled his last sight of
that pitifully small isolated box and the waves of heat ascending from it,
knowing that the lovely blonde was lying baking within it and relying as much on
him as he was on her. It spurred him to gulp down the offered water, belly
bulging, and carry on as fast as he could, ears straining for her faint
directions.
His toes curled with tension and his penis flapped wildly and painfully
as he ran in a low blind crouch, careful not fall and drop the precious rocks.
He could hear the water slopping in his stomach and just had to stop for a
moment to get control casting aside delicious thoughts of relaxing his bladder
and spurting onto the grass.
"Hurry Michelle," came the faint croak.
"OK, all you have to do is f___ing lie there, -I'm doing the hard work."
Yet as he staggered on he knew the injustice of his remarks and tried to
rationalise them but he couldn't deny some bitterness towards the lovely girl in
the lonely, hot box. The swine here certainly knew how to reduce
self-preservation to its basics.
-----------------------------
Time had now lost all meaning for Rosemary. She dreamt longingly of
water, ice and cool air, sometimes hearing flowing water in the background but
not always quite able to remember where from, or what she was doing here. Then
Mark's winging voice, seeking direction, dragged her back to reality. It was
all his fault, she recalled, that she was in this position. He was nice looking
and sweet and it was good to think that he cared enough to go to her when she
stumbled. She wondered now though whether it was simply lust as Miss Wang had
suggested? Just so he could touch her up. She had flirted a little with her
body too though, she recalled with a blush. Yet all this was surely his fault,
but now she needed him, needed him to be strong. Mentally she urged him on,
guessing how much longer it would take him to move the rocks he had left,
praying that he wouldn't lose control of his bladder.
------------------------------------------------------
More time passed and more dreams and visions flashed through her mind of
being cremated alive. This is how it would be, but if it took away the raging
thirst maybe it would not be so unpleasant she considered. Time was marked only
by Mark's impatient, strained voice, and her opening her eyes in their sea of
sweat to guide him to the blurred dark image of the next rock. He seemed now to
be able to find his way gingerly to the growing pile and back and only needed
her to quickly locate the next one.
Then she became aware of a change of dream. In this one a brown genie
appeared and lifted her from her iron prison so that she could float in the so
cool air outside her box. With a start she found the dream a reality. Her
genie was Mr Garth, his barrel-chested body rippled as he carefully lifted her
like a baby from her confinement to hold a huge glass of life-giving water to
her parched cracked lips. After taking smaller and then larger sips to slake
her thirst she flung her arms around her saviour's thick neck, thanking him
pitifully as he wiped her brow with a damp cloth.
She caught sight of Mark, beside Miss Wang. The hood had been removed
and he stood hands on head, a look of bliss on his face as the Chinese cow held
his penis, directing its flow onto the rocks. Deliberately, dismissively,
Rosemary turned away from Mark, snuggling into Mr Garth's arms.
"Thank you Sir," she looked up at him with her wide green eyes, her lips
closing over his as she pressed her breasts tightly against him.
"I'll take you back, let you rest and then rub some cream on you," he
told her with a wicked grin, possessively slapping the curving roundness of her
bottom, "then we'll see what comes up," he chuckled.
CHAPTER 12
Two rigid fingers thrust straight up into Rosemary's vagina, a thumb
into the tight elastic ring of her anus, all making her gasp with shocked
humiliation. Although rising onto tiptoe, somehow she still managed to maintain
her hands on head position. Having invaded her body, the smiling face of Mrs
Leilla was inches from hers.
"I tell you, Western slut, wiggle your arse properly as you walk.
You're so stupid today, don't you know how to be seductive? Now I guide you, "
she purred to the shamed blonde.
To an observer she would have looked like an obscene puppeteer. The
Arab woman walked right behind, unnaturally close, to the beautiful blonde girl
who seductively walked up and down. Her hand disappeared between the globes of
Rosemary's flexing buttocks pulling this way and that until her hips swung
sufficiently from side to side to meet her satisfaction.
"That's better, you must be seductive for an owner, sway don't slouch,"
she explained as if to a child rather than a woman.
Humiliation was bitter in Rosemary's mouth as she was marched up and
down like a glove puppet, the fingers deeply embedded in her. She knew though
the reason for this; it was simply to make a point to Mr Garth, who stood
leaning against a wall. She guessed that Mrs Leilla had considered Mr Garth's
bout of lovemaking to her after the rock-moving ordeal, was outside of his
'training' ambit. Maybe Mr Garth had told her how she had encouraged it?
Whatever, the bitch seemed intent on shaming her, and making the point - that
she, Mrs Leilla - now controlled her!
She could feel her tormentor's digits moving within her and it briefly
reminded her of a game she and Damien used to play when she had to guess the
number of fingers within her. They would be lying facing each other in bed and
he would make her place her hands on her head and close her eyes. His soft
fingers would stroke tantalisingly down over her fluttering belly leaving almost
a trail of electricity in their wake and delve through the tangles over her the
protuberance of her pubic mound.
Gently his fingertips would brush each fleshy lip of her sex with at
first just the very tip of his digits running within her. With her hips
writhing uncontrollably he would stroke and rub the moist fur between her legs
until she was thoroughly wet before pushing his fingers deep up into her. They
would twist and turn, filling and stretching her, pumping in and out. If she
guessed correctly the number of fingers she was rewarded with having in their
place his hard pulsing cock. Until she guessed correctly the fingers continued
to delve within her a thumb flicking her bud; she wasn't always in a hurry to
guess correctly!
Thoughts of the pleasure that Damien's long, sensitive fingers brought
her served only to contrast that much more sharply with the shame she now felt,
walking, mincing, up and down before her fellow prisoners, the woman's fingers
jutting from her. Would she ever again know a life of normality, Rosemary began
to wonder?
Thankfully, after what seemed to be an age, Mrs Leilla removed the
offending hand and was content to watch her victim walk up and down with
exaggerated hip-swivelling movements until she pronounced herself finally
satisfied.
The unfortunate trainees were still some way from finishing the day's
lessons when told by their next instructor, Miss Wang, that they would now be
given practice in using their internal muscles, vaginal and anal.
The young Chinese witch smiled as the three pairs of Angels knelt back
to back about a metre apart, their buttocks thrust high in the air, noses to the
floor, wrists between their shoulder blades and fastened to their collars. They
each had a large black dildo protruding from their love lips with a slim golden
chain attached to its base connecting to the dildo gripped by the girl
alongside; each pair of girls were connected by their loins.
"This a tug of war," Miss Wang announced. "Winner of each pair is one
who use her c-t best to grip dildo tightest and pull out her partner's." She
produced an old slipper and placed it ominously in sight of them all. "Winner in
pair give loser three strokes. If no winner in each team after one minute I
give both, six each!"
Rosemary clenched her buttocks, gripping the phallus desperately with
her internal muscles, feeling the resistance as Lindsey similarly eased in the
opposite direction. At that moment, she hated her companion in misfortune. She
was sure that the young Italian felt that her body was better than anyone
else's, that she was stronger and more alluring and supple. Rosemary gritted
her teeth with determination, wiggling and jiggling her bottom, trying to inch
forward. It suddenly flashed through her mind what a sight she must be
presenting - that they were all presenting.
She knew shouldn't be blaming Lindsey. That was one partial aim of these
exercises - to break down any allegiances. That was what these bastards wanted
- and were achieving. It was the likes of Miss Wang and Miss Mitzie they should
concentrate their hate on. Rosemary felt the dildo slip a little from her,
desperately she clenched and gripped it with her vagina muscles. She should she
knew have kept her concentration and her thoughts about Lindsey.
It was not long, however, before that hatred for her partner did
re-surface. With Rosemary obediently touching her toes, tears of pain trickling
down her face, after three strokes of the slipper she wondered whether it was
really necessary for the Italian girl to lay that winner's slipper on so hard!
Success was on her side however, when they were similarly positioned but
with slightly smaller dildos thrust deep into their rectums. Rosemary, paired
with Elaine had tightened her sphincter muscles as hard as she could, imagining
them to be a vice. Slowly, oh so slowly, again clenching her buttocks she had
managed to pull and worm the opposing implement from the young girl's bottom
till she nearly fell flat on her face - her wrists still pinioned behind her.
With the tables turned she could not deny the sense of excitement as the
Chelsea girl's pert bottom again flinched and contracted under the slipper she
enthusiastically laid across it. Divide and conquer she thought abstractly as
her heart raced to the sound of the young, arrogant Sloane Ranger gasping with
pain, her tightly curved bottom a bright red.
"Now Angels have more instruction on controlling orgasm," Miss Wang
announced.
The women, most with bottoms burning from the slipper, were again paired
but now facing each other thighs splayed. Like the other pairs, Rosemary and
Carol stooped over a large rubber tube set into the floor. The u-shaped length
of rubber was shaped a little like, and had roughly the same diameter as, cow
horns with the six inch tip of each horn embedded in the sex of each woman
impaling her. A little hard protrusion stuck out about seven or eight inches
from the tip so that it would press against the clitoris when the tube was fully
within.
"You sluts like this, yes? get arses wiggling," the young bitch smiled,
draping a hand casually around Rosemary's waist, lightly patting her bottom.
Rosemary gritted her teeth, resenting the familiar touch. It reminded
her too much of Damien. He would stroke her there, a prelude to wonderful sex,
patting, holding her buttocks, lightly caressing. Now, her flesh shuddering,
she had to endure the hateful girl's touch, the crawling fingers intruding
shamefully.
"Slide on girls, enjoy yourselves," came the command.
"Oh, hah," Rosemary winced as she delicately impaled herself under the
amused eyes.
They were each ordered to grip their partner's shoulders for support
whilst exchanging deep kisses and working their hips up and down over the, soon
slippery, rubber phallic tip at the end of the horns filling them.
Miss Wang was quite meticulous about timing and standards and had set a
metronome. They all had to thrust up and down in unison to that steady beat,
about once a second, irrespective of their own natural yearnings. Rosemary
could have leapt at their tormentor as she strolled amongst her victims, so
obviously lapping up their shame as she ensured that they kept to the designated
rhythm. A tap or slash of her slipper across a bottom ensured that she got the
required precision, whilst checking that none broke her rules by actually
coming.
"It seem appropriate," she laughed as she stroked down the curving sheen
of Rosemary's back, "that arrogant Western cows work themselves up and down on
cow horns!"
Rosemary longed to claw out the slit eyes. However, she knew that fear
of the consequences would always prevent it. Instead, she had to simply
continue debasing herself as part of her training and breaking down process.
However, the exercise had now become more pleasurable. The room was filled with
the gasps of the girls and accompanying slurp of moist sex lips sliding up and
down wet rubber.
Her mouth was now beginning to gape and she could feel the warm
perspiration on Carol's face and shoulders where the woman was holding and
kissing her. The face of her companion was, like her own, softening and
diffusing with pleasure, becoming ever more attractive. Forgetting the long
dark hair she stroked, the hard buttons of Carol's breasts brushing her, she
could almost imagine that the warm, shining figure she was embracing was Damien.
Her jerking, thrusting loins were now a sea of liquid passion. Both
women had their eyes partially closed and glazed. So much now did Rosemary want
to give way to the warm bubble expanding within her, to let it go. The soft
touch of Carol's long hair flicking her shoulders and her sighing breath, soft
lips, added to her pleasure. It was beginning to matter less and less to her
that it was not a man who held her. That instead of a man's stubble, soft
feminine lips fastened greedily on hers.
"Continue in own time, but no come yet," Miss Wang directed again like a
conductor.
The rubber was sliding in faster and harder as they thrust together more
urgently. Now, her eyes met and locked with Carol's as she caressed and
squeezed her companion's swinging breasts. Fighting to control her passion, she
could see the same longing in the older woman's sensuous face. Behind,
the Chinese girl's smirking countenance swam into focus. How Rosemary hated
her. The girl knew, and relished, the absolute power she had over the women
whom she had brought to the brink and who hummed for release, bellies tense with
control. But the spiteful youngster's control over her was absolute. Licking
her lips and curling her toes she knew that she would have to try and rein
herself in or risk coming before being allowed to. Miss Wang reached out to
stroke her taut buttocks clenching as she strove for control over her emotions.
Then her tormentor lightly tapped her bouncing breasts with her slipper before
moving on.
Carol's breath hissed passed her own, teeth clenched.
However, Miss Wang was apparently not willing to allow anyone to climax
until she was as satisfied as possible that each girl would do so
simultaneously. She continued to peer closely at each writhing, bouncing figure
looking for telltale signs; clenched toes, balled fists, rasping shuddering
breath. Expertly she judged when they were all ready and could hold back no
longer. Then, like the conductor of an orchestra, she tapped her cane.
"You may come now, Angels," her order dripped sarcasm.
"Mmm, hah, hah, aaahhhh," letting go, Rosemary gasped her feelings.
Her pent-up emotion and energy was finally to be allowed a release in a
rapid thrusting and shuddering of hips, clenching of buttocks with wildly
bouncing breasts and breathless cries. Carol's fingernails dug painfully into
her soft shoulders as she too moaned, expunging her pent-up lust. Both women
held each other close, jerking wildly together to take themselves over the warm
damn, their mouth locked together in a fierce, tongue-darting, kiss.
The temperature in the room had risen by several degrees as each pair of
shining, linked bodies, shuddered gently together, the tide of their lust only
slowly ebbing. Rosemary was content to remain clasped in Carol's arms, feeling
her softness, stroking her hair as she regained control of her breathing. By
ignoring the clack of Miss Wang's high heels, and her inquisitive, cruel face as
she inspected each couple, Rosemary could almost imagine that she was indeed
clasped in her husband's arms. At least, she thought, she had obtained some
solace, if only briefly, from the cruelty of this place.
CHAPTER 13
Much of Rosemary's hindquarters and thighs throbbed agonisingly from the
attentions given to it at that night's punishment parade. However, the soothing
effects of the rays from the grills in her box had taken away some of the pain
so that she could try to concentrate her tired brain on other matters.
She recalled how Miss Wang had delivered the punishments that evening
and the strength in her arms as she viciously lashed down across the bare flesh
of the Angels without seeming to tire. The fact that such a slim youthful girl
administered the punishments seemed to make it all the worse. Certainly she
ensured that she put the older women through hell. When it was thus the turn of
Lynne or Carol she seemed to take a special delight in humiliating them. There
were the extra clips of the cane or lash across the tips of their breasts if
they were not standing sufficiently straight before their turn to be punished,
or having to shout out and repeat their grovelling thanks in loud clear voices
after the punishment.
Sometimes she just had them running on the spot whilst everyone had to
watch their wildly bouncing breasts, bottoms and hair. The young girl played
and toyed with them, drinking in their shame. Rosemary was not exempt, she
seemed to a reserve a special hatred for her too. That very night Miss Wang's
cane had cut cruelly up into the softness between her thighs because, when she
was bent over to receive her caning, her legs were not wide enough apart for the
girl's liking.
At least though, Rosemary thought with some thanks, it had not been the
Fancy Tickler again. Laura and Linda had been the unlucky recipients of the
fiendish contraption that night. The bald, ex-policewoman had screamed until
she was hoarse when it blazed up into her womanhood - as did the hairdresser.
Miss Wang had cracked some tasteless joke about it cutting her hair down below,
and, on cue from Miss Mitzie, Rosemary and the other Angels had to laugh at Miss
Wang's humour.
Mentally shaking herself back to the reality of her confining sleeping
box, Rosemary knew she had to get on with the task in hand or face further
punishments later. She, along with most of the other girls apparently, was
nearing the completion of her careful embroidery of their own knickers with a
loving message to one of the supervisors. By drawing lots, Rosemary's were
destined for Miss Wang.
There was only a relatively short time which the Angels had to
themselves - and their exhausted bodies and stressed minds wanted only the
refuge of sleep to recharge their batteries. However, it was not to be. During
the evenings in the sleeping 'coffins' they had to learn texts for the
schoolroom, or make the gifts for their tormentors. Having to spend hours
making such a gift of her own intimate clothing for the woman she now hated most
in the world was an added almost unbearable burden for her!
As she held her delicate black lacy pants to her cheek, she recalled
packing it in her suitcase for use on her stay. She had received them as a
Christmas gift from Damien, and remembered the evening she had worn them, and
removed them, for him. She brushed a tear from her eye as she again tried to
make herself accept her current reality, checking her embroidery, praying there
were no errors which would earn her more punishment. It seemed to be all right:
'Dear Miss Wang,
Thank you for training me.
Angel - Trixie x'
That lovely garment which had been bought for her, to cover and
titillate, to make her feel, and look, good now belonged to someone else - a
young cow who she hated.. And the bitch would, no doubt, take a great delight
in showing it, and the grovelling inscription, off to her friends.
A sudden surge of frustrated impotent rage welled up in her, making her
ball the garment up in her shaking, clenched fist. She was spending hours
making a gift of her own belongings to one of the most hateful and spiteful
people she had ever met. Probably Penny had lain in a box, maybe this very one,
making a similar gift just weeks ago.
Gradually though she regained control, releasing the garment,
straightening it. The Chinese witch had total control over her, or at least
sufficient to make her life even more of a living hell than it already was. Her
tongue touched the bug in her tooth giving her comfort, soon these people would
get their comeuppance - she must just be patient. Her shaking fingers smoothed
out her panties and began embroidering delicate little flowers around Miss
Wang's name before sleep claimed her.
A nightmare made Rosemary toss and turn in a cold sweat that night. She
was a prisoner in some state institution somewhere, not knowing how long she had
been there, but it felt an age. However, she was due to be visited by Damien
and she knew that it was imperative that she tell him the kind of ordeals she
was undergoing in the prison. He would then tell the outside world and she and
her fellow inmates would be released. The proof of the conditions and torments
here that the outside world needed was concealed in a film in her tooth and she
would pass it to him during the visit.
As if looking down from a ceiling in the prison she saw herself marching
in the obligatory fashion, arms swinging, legs raised high. With her wearing
only a short white prison dress, her black lacy panties, the only personal
luxury allowed in the place, were revealed with every upward movement of her
straight thighs. Alongside her, carrying a swagger stick and wearing a light
blue officer's uniform and a sarcastic grin was a Chinese girl - with the face
of Miss Wang.
Marching along endless grey corridors with the youngster shouting out
the rhythm Rosemary knew in her dream that she was nearly at the visitor's
centre. The door was open and then with a leap of her heart she saw the smiling
face of Damien. As he caught sight of her being marched and shouted at she saw
the look of anger cross his face, perhaps appreciating for the first time the
terrible ordeals she was undergoing.
Stamping to attention as ordered right before the counter, just a metre
from her husband, she longed to blurt out to him there and then what was
happening to her. Also, that the smiling girl who he was greeting so politely
and thanking so profusely for bringing his wife to see him, had in fact had her
kneeling naked between her own spread thighs just 12 hours ago. The swagger
stick had repeatedly lashed her upthrust bottom for any slackening of effort of
the tongue which had to delve deep in the hot pink perfumed sweetness of that
same girl. Desperately, she hoped that the Chinese girl would never know, or
never tell Damien about, the enthusiasm and excitement which she had tried to
conceal whilst licking so avidly between the girl's thighs!
Instead Rosemary remained obediently silent, only her large green eyes
pleading with her husband to quickly finish the formalities as she stood rigidly
to attention whilst papers were pushed onto the centre turntable in the grill,
signed and returned. Then, in the dream, she caught sight of Penny also
visiting her with Damien. Her sister was sitting alongside her husband cross
legged and relaxed on a chair, smiling at her behind the counter and for a
moment irrational hatred gripped her heart because somehow she knew that her
suffering was because of Penny.
It was nearly over, papers were being signed, Rosemary touched the tooth
containing the microfilm with her tongue. Then the tall figure of Miles entered
her dream, wearing a prison guard's uniform and strolling over to the young
Chinese wardress. Rosemary's heart sank with impending dread.
It was just a formality, Miles had said, apparently reminding Miss Wang
that they had to carry out some random body searches that day and they might as
well do one now. Mentally, Rosemary had screamed at Miles, did he want her to
be found out, he was on her side surely? She was exposing the rotten system at
his behest! No, there was no need for any fuss Miles re-assured Damien. They
would conduct the search right here the Oriental vixen said with a sadistic
grin.
Miss Wang pointed to a small cubicle alongside the counter not much
bigger than a shower. It had slightly frosted glass running around it from just
below the shoulders to the knees leaving the rest of the victim's body in clear
unobscured view of all of the visitors.
Helplessness rage and humiliation washed through her in equal measure
alongside the frustration she felt as, seeing the normal world so near to her
beyond that counter. She had to turn her back on those loving familiar faces
and step into the tiny cubicle at the command of the Oriental girl who stepped
into the tiny compartment with her. In a voice loud enough for all to hear the
girl ordered her to firstly remove her dress for searching - right before the
eyes of Damien and Miles.
When she was requested to now remove her underwear and stand with her
hands above her head her mouth and legs open wide, she looked at her husband
lovingly. She swallowed at the sight of his hunted face, as he was forced to
watch, impotently unable to ease or prevent the ritual humiliation of his wife.
From the overall vantage point of her dream Rosemary saw the pink
silhouette of her body, the outline not disguised one jot by the glass, being
mauled all over by the Oriental girl. There was the loud degrading commands
ordering her to open her legs wider, move her bottom forward, relax don't tense.
Then with a cry of mock shock the girl's finger's, already carrying the scent of
having probed deeply into her victim's intimacies, were in her wide open mouth
and discovered the precious hollow tooth. With glee the young girl held up for
all to see the little capsule, which contained all of Rosemary's hopes. She
then, carefully, gave her two stinging slaps around the face before twisting her
arms up behind her back in a cruel half Nelson and pushing her naked out of the
cubicle so stand arched before her husband and Miles on tip-toe.
"This is very serious young lady," Miles had said sternly, examining the
little capsule and then cupping her frightened chin in his hand, staring into
her wide frightened eyes. "I'm afraid that you will now all be with us for quite
a long time whilst we sort out what this business is all about."
Now she, Damien and Penny were suddenly all naked and somehow in the
lounge of her own home! She and her husband were bound upright from the
ceiling, cords around wrists and ankles holding their legs and arms wide apart
in the shape of a X. A horizontal electrified wire ran just under her breasts
forcing her to stand quivering on tip- toe to avoid contact with it. A similar
wire ran fractionally below Damien's testicles forcing him to adopt a similar
posture on aching toes.
From her dream, Rosemary could see large red ball gags protruding from
their gaping mouths and that they were both blindfolded. Miss Wang explained
that they would have to hold those painful positions until she was ready to
question them about the capsule from her mouth.
The Oriental girl meanwhile sat relaxed on Rosemary's elegant
leather-bound sofa cuddling Penny's naked body. Her sister's wrists had been
tied painfully behind her back, as had her ankles, and bound together so that
her nude body was pulled back into a painful bow, thrusting out her tight
budding breasts. With one delicate hand Miss Wang held the bound girl's head in
place on her lap, ordering her to use her tongue whilst she sipped wine from one
of her elegant crystal goblets with the other.
She could only watch the spectacle, but every so often, either her or
Damien's body would sag and then, with an electric crackle and a muffled gasp,
jerk painfully upright as the cruel wires made contact. Eventually the gags were
removed and Rosemary heard herself taking full blame for the capsule, telling
everything to avoid more but without implicating anyone else. It was apparently
to no avail however because, despite their pleading, she and Damien were left in
their terrible confinement, tired, aching bare toes scrabbling for a purchase of
the rich pile of her carpet to avoid the hateful burn of the wire.
Then somehow Penny, still naked and tightly bound, was being carried
away by Miles, saying he would keep her anyway as his little pet. He said, so
casually, that Miss Wang could stay forever in Rosemary's house and dispose of
its two former occupants as she saw fit! She heard Damien helplessly, blindly
calling her name, but it wasn't really her name was it?
Then, jerking awake, sweating, the flooding relief of it only being a
dream was just as rapidly replaced by the horrible reality of her confinement in
the little coffin. Mr Ho was calling her name yelling at her to get up to greet
another day in hell!
CHAPTER 14
When told by Miss Wang that she was going for a ride outside of the camp
Rosemary's heart leapt at the thought of being out of this hideous place.
Maybe, she thought, she would see Penny? Then she could activate the bug so that
they could be rescued. It was with trembling and appreciative hands that she
clasped real clothing to her thudding heart; black slinky satin underwear, black
fishnet stockings, suspenders. This was followed by an equally slinky and
clinging short black dress with thin straps revealing much of her shoulders and
her cleavage. Her costume completed with high heel pumps, she felt more like a
sensuous woman again rather than a helpless prisoner or slave, a lump of meat to
be ordered around and bent to the will of the fiends who ran the place.
However, she felt some apprehension as to the purpose of these refinements and
this was enhanced when she found that her chains and reminders of bondage were
not apparently to be discarded. Her wrists were expertly strapped up behind her
back between her shoulders, thrusting out her bosoms. Another strap was secured
across her mouth and the small rubber phallic attached to it filled her mouth to
gag her; a blindfold mask rendered her sightless.
"A nice head-to-toe robe to cover you up and blend in and we'll go for
our little ride, girl," purred Miss Wang as Rosemary felt cloth being passed and
fastened around her before arms led her outside.
A casual observer would have seen the robed figure of Wang assisting the
similarly black-robed, uncertain and slightly stumbling, figure onto the back
seat of the air conditioned Mercedes which pulled away from the compound with
the large figure of Garth at the wheel. Rosemary sat upright and still as
directed by her mentor and, although utterly helpless, it felt good to be away
from that awful place and to hear and smell the everyday sounds of cars and
laughing children as they drove through several towns - even if she herself
could see nothing. She just had to ignore the girl's hand resting possessively
on her thigh as they drove.
After what she judged to be half an hour the car pulled up. She heard Mr
Garth's muttered exchange with someone and then what sounded like a huge gate
being opened and then locked behind them. Her heart began beating faster with
dread - she seemed to have exchanged one form of prison for another.
Indeed, Rosemary could have no idea at how accurate her guess had been
as the shiny black car drove slowly through a dusty compound to the cell block
of a huge grimy prison. Garth stopped and left the car to finalise the
necessary arrangements with the warders whilst the two figures sat silently in
the back. One with her veil pulled back, smocking a long cheroot - the other
with a blind questing head under its all-embracing covering but otherwise
anxiously and obediently still. Finally Garth returned with a warder and the
Chinese girl led the other robed figure into the cool of a cell- block.
The captive blonde could not prevent a little shudder of dread as she
felt herself transferred from the heat of the car and into a cool building. It
echoed to Arabic shouts and curses and smelt of years of human sweat and misery.
Her high-heeled shoes clacked over a tiled floor until she felt a door being
opened and the hands stopped her. Without warning the robe was pulled off and
the blindfold and gag removed.
She started back as she found herself standing before a fat Arab in a
stained brown uniform, a gun strapped to his hip. He whistled as his eyes roved
over her seductive figure in the clinging black dress, her wrists still pinioned
behind her and thus her breasts thrusting provocatively towards him.
Rubbing a grimy hand over a sweating chin he regarded the exquisite
blonde, his thoughts and intentions obvious.
"Remember the deal," Mr Garth reminded him in an Arabic tongue.
"Sure, but visitors are normally searched," the guard oozed in the same
language, smiling, licking his lips.
"Right girl," spat Miss Wang into Rosemary's blinking eyes as she tried
to appraise her new predicament, "you now in prison - one of toughest around,
surrounded by murderers, rapists and thieves." She laughed harshly as the
shivering, helpless woman instinctively shrank back, closer to her tormentor.
"Don't worry, you safe for moment - if you behave and do as told. You here to
put seduction skills to little test I devise for you. It no be too hard - with
you dressed up like tart you are!" The bound girl's large green eyes
flashed fearfully around the grim surroundings imagining the horrors of humanity
they contained before being drawn back to the grinning guard. Then Miss Wang was
speaking again.
"The warder, " Miss Wang grabbed her chin between her strong fingers,
"will take you to condemned man with nothing to live for. Your test to fully
seduce him, f--k him like whore you are, " she laughed as the blonde's eyes grew
even wider. "The man no speak English so you rely on international language of
love. Unknown to prisoner, if you succeed in f---ing him, he be spared
execution, and you pass test. Cell under video surveillance so we see how you
make out. If you fail, he be executed and you remain in this prison. Fair
enough?" the sadistic youngster asked reasonably as the trembling blonde began
to shake her pretty head.
Crack!
Miss Wang's hand cracked across a soft cheek
"You never contradict me. Believe me Western slag," she spat, "you have
no choice. If you no successfully f---ed man by time we finish meal here, we
leave without you. Will you do as told, or not? Or do we leave you here now?"
Rosemary longed to hold a hand to her stinging cheek but they were
firmly secured behind her. Helpless, she knew she had to obey, she couldn't
bear remaining here in this frightful place and all that it might entail -
probably being taken by half of the inmates before she could use her tooth to
summon help. Then, even if she survived, she would have lost any chance of
rescuing Penny. She knew she had no choice. The hateful, smirking youngster,
who knew she held all the chips, was awaiting her reply.
" Yes Miss, I'll do it" she whispered meekly.
"Wise decision Trixie," laughed Miss Wang, "warder here naturally have
to search you before you taken to the prisoner. He speak no English but I sure
he make himself understood. You better obey, or else ... ," she glared into
the frightened eyes. "We leave you in his hands. If you f-k well we see you
later, " she flaunted over her shoulder, leaving Rosemary to her fate after
removing the cuffs from her pinioned wrists.
A look of almost sympathy flicked over the greasy warder's face as the
blonde rubbed circulation back into her hands, her eyes imploring the hated girl
not to leave her. It would be obvious that the youngster was a complete bitch
and that none would want to be so totally in her hands as the captive was. Then
his expression hardened, again. . He grabbed the strap of Rosemary's dress
indicating that she should remove it.
The fragile beauty was forced to strip before him, her lovely clothes
sliding one by one to the grimy floor. Now she stood awkwardly before him, so
out of place in such surroundings, her shapely body thrusting through the silky
black underwear, hands crossed over her chest.
"All, all," he managed in English, impatiently twanging the soft, thin
band of her bra.
His masculinity was an, obvious, hard spear pushing against his trousers
as she finally stood naked and wide-eyed before him in just her fishnet
stockings and suspenders, covering herself with her hands. The red bud of a
nipple peeked from beneath a slim hand. Harshly, he grabbed her arms and
positioned them on her head indicating that she should open her mouth wide. The
blonde's delightful breasts bounced with the upward posture of her arms, the
tight tips of her breasts brushing his soiled uniform.
He ran exploratory fingers through her hair and into her mouth, making
her flinch and tremble. Then he slammed her against the rough plaster of the
wall spread-eagled leaning against it on stiff, out-stretched arms, legs widely
spaced from the wall's base. Moist hands ran down her spine over the dip of her
arched back and between the cool globes of her firm round buttocks. The soft
down of her pubic hair covering the warmth of her sex lips tickled his curious
fingers.
"Ughhh," she winced, shuddering as he probed deeply and simultaneously
into each of her hot orifices.
The tight rubbery puckered ring of her anus tried to reject the harsh
stiff intruder but merely had to contend itself with gripping him as he probed.
The larger opening of her vagina warranted two fingers. He circled them around
within, the membranes trembling and contracting around him. Her bottom clenched
as she squirmed around his digits.
Sighing, he withdrew his sticky digits but took the brief opportunity of
pressing himself tightly against her leaning body from behind. Extracting his
stiffness he allowed it to rest between the cool shrinking roundness of her
buttocks whilst he ran his hands around to her front. He squeezed and mashed her
hard-tipped breasts against the sticky palms of his hands, cruelly pinching to
make her blonde loveliness squirm more against him. Sighing again he gave each
cheek a hard slap, indicating that she could dress.
With shaking fingers, feeling soiled, she gratefully did so under the
hot eyes of the fat warder, knowing however, that she would presumably soon have
to remove the garments again. Her belly flip- flopped as he then led her down a
long corridor past some pitiful specimens of humanity locked in their cells on
either side. Finally he unlocked a heavy metal door and with a hand in the
small of her back unceremoniously pushed her trembling form within.
Miss Wang relaxing with a sumptuous meal and a beer laughed as they
watched on the video monitor Rosemary, looking like a street tart, arrive
unceremoniously in the prisoner's cell. It didn't seem worth while mentioning
to her that the obese Arab lying on his bunk was a homosexual, it would just
give her a test worthy of her excellent attributes. They were soon rejoined by
the warder who settled down to eat and drink with her and Garth whilst they
enjoyed the show.
----------------------------------------
It was the smell of his unwashed body and fear which first hit her as
she stumbled to a halt, nostrils flared, before the young Arab hulk sprawled on
the bunk. He regarded her briefly with tiny piggy eyes before resuming his
contemplation of a spider crawling over the brickwork of his cell wall.
"Please ... I've come to-to, we can - be t-together," Rosemary whispered
opening her arms and taking an uncertain step towards the sweating heap on the
bunk, trying to make him understand her intentions with her fixed smile. The
smile didn't however, reach her eyes, which remained wide and desperate as her
natural womanly instincts revolted against the task which lay ahead of her.
Those instincts urged her to run away out of his sight and smell rather than
touch him - let alone try to seduce him!
His response startled her, making her flinch back hand over her mouth,
as he jumped to his feet gesturing and shouting angrily, dismissively before
turning his back on her and staring up at the tiny patch of blue sky visible
through the bars of the cell window. Frightened, she backed against the far
wall catching her breath. Then, gulping, remembering the threat to leave her
here if she didn't succeed, she took a tentative step towards him, then another.
Finally, she rested a slim white hand on the stained shoulder of his prison
uniform.
Heart pounding, she waited, but he made no other move. Gently, she
pressed herself against him so that the tips of her breasts rubbed his back.
Undulating her hips against him and parting her thighs she ground them either
side of one of his huge trunk-like limbs. Her lips gently brushed his greasy
hair. It made her shudder but she persevered with her distasteful task,
planting soft light kisses and tickling with her the tip of her tongue the coils
of flesh on his neck.
Then grabbing her shoulders he pushed her away none too gently to send
her staggering back against the wall. She couldn't recall having ever been thus
rejected by a man, certainly not when she was making herself as provocative as
she was now. Rapid and mixed feelings flushed through her befuddled brain.
Relief that he hadn't leapt on her was tempered with hurt that such an obese
hulk could reject her. Then fear returned, fear that she would not succeed -
and the terrible consequences. Perhaps, she thought, he wondered why she was
here.
Surely though she pondered, the guards would have told him she was
coming? A prisoner's last request? Maybe his impending execution weighed
heavily on him and, with a shudder, she realised that he would have nothing to
lose by simply killing her in the cell if she annoyed him. With a hopeless
mental shrug Rosemary appreciated though that she had to proceed to the best of
her ability or face the prospect of remaining here permanently in this
hell-hole; the thought sent a shudder through her slim body.
At least the hulk was still looking at her; some progress she thought.
She smiled inwardly, wondering what Damien would have thought if he could see
her definition of progress - a mild flickering of interest in the eyes of an
ugly Arab whom she desperately wanted to f--k her! Without tempting fate by
crowding him, she re-fixed the smile to her anguished face, demurely inclining
her head a little whilst holding his eyes with her fluttering lashes.
She began to gently undulate her hips provocatively running her hands
from her hair to stroke and cup every curve of her seemingly eager swaying body.
The beast licked his lips, eyes glinting when she bent slightly to thrust out
her bottom towards him in the skin-tight dress, stroking a splayed hand over the
curves. Taking the queue from his minute reaction she moved her other hand from
her breasts and placed it alongside the other to cup the cheeks of her swaying
buttocks, inviting him with her head and eyes to stroke his hand over hers.
He took a hesitant step and then stopped, uncertain. Slowly, she
approached him, holding his eyes with the promise in her own. Fighting back the
sickness she took one of his large sticky hands and placed it on her hips,
keeping them gently thrusting. Leaning towards him, her body brushing his, her
warm sweet breath washed over his flabby jowls as she again began kissing him,
this time on the stubble around his mouth. Steeling herself and repressing a
shudder as his foul breath enveloped her, she closed her soft lips over his and
the tip of her tongue began probing within. Nothing! She pulled hesitatingly
away wondering what his problem was?
Changing tack, she slowly reached behind her to undo and slide her dress
to the floor, shuddering with vulnerable dread. Hesitatingly she placed his
hands on her body, his touch making her shiver. He only briefly dallied with
the thrusting orbs before sliding round to hold the firm cheeks of her bottom as
she swayed before him. Now she was thrusting herself against him, the heat of
her loins pushing against his own. More importantly he still had a hand on each
cheek of buttocks. She made them clench and flex enticingly under his touch as
she scissored one of his thighs between hers and began sliding up and down. Her
lips again brushed the stumble of his neck, darting, tickling, trying to get a
response. There was none!
She began to wonder whether the slob had anything between her legs and
decided that she should perhaps check in that direction. Did he even like
women? Closing her eyes to what her hands were doing she slowly unbuttoned his
prison pyjamas and slid them down his fat smelly paunch. He stood in just a
pair of filthy underpants - the smell of stale urine increasing somewhat.
Ignoring that, she gently reached out a red manicured hand and slid it over the
bulge in the pants feeling it twitch then pressed herself against him so that
his soft lump brushed her belly.
Fighting back her nausea she slid up and down on tiptoe undulating
against him for awhile longer before deciding that further measures were
required. Firing some of the last shots in her arsenal, Rosemary seductively
slid the bra from her smooth shoulders to let her breasts fall towards him,
running her fingers over the creamy orbs until her nipples were two red buttons
aimed at his dead-pan eyes.
With a snarl her grabbed her shoulders pushing her clinging body away
from him before his huge hands reached out to cruelly and totally ensnare her
breasts so they were no longer visible. He squeezed the soft flesh smiling at
her squeals of pain, her nipples like two buttons trapped within his hands.
Futilely she scrabbled at his hands in an attempt to relieve the excruciating
pain. She pleaded, panting, before remembering that he spoke no English, but
the moistness in her wide, imploring eyes testified to her pain.
Very slightly he eased the terrible pressure on her bosoms and then
changed the position of his hands so that he had each of her nipples between
pincer-like fingers. Incredibly, she did now detect a stirring in his pants.
Then, with several angry nods and grunts he indicated that she must take her
hands off his, to stop their useless scratching. That instead, she must take
off the remainder of her garments.
Comprehension dawned in her eyes as, ignoring the burning pain in her
breasts, she slid shaking fingers into the delicate wispy material of her pants
and stockings sliding them off her long limbs. She gasped again as he increased
the pull on her delicate buds to make her stoop and bend as if he was a puppet-
master with a pretty pink, naked doll. He led her around the tiny confines of
his cell by her nipples, bent over and hands placed obediently behind her back -
as he had indicated with further gestures - just as if he was walking a dog.
When he had her in the position he wanted he released one bruised morsel of
flesh but maintained his hold on the other.
"Harggh," she screamed, flinching back as far as she could as he slapped
one hanging breast backwards and forwards with hard stinging fingers whilst
maintaining his pincer grip on the other.
One glare made her replace her hands obediently behind her as he slapped
her nudity at will, her face, thighs, buttocks - leaving a tattoo of red hand
imprints all over the whiteness of her body. Then his free hand slid into the
cleft of her curving buttocks to find the hot inviting bud of her anus. Hating
the touch, she squirmed, her cheeks clenching and unclenching as he crudely
pushed a finger past the rubber-like contraction of her tight muscle. The
sphincter gripped him, automatically trying to reject the intruder within.
However, his finger was embedded deep within her, impaling her. Desperately
trying to play from his song-sheet she began moving her bottom a little on his
finger as if she was enjoying it.
Unexpectedly, he suddenly relinquished his power and hold, pushing her
away, his finger popping free from her bottom as she fell to her knees in the
far corner, holding her tender, throbbing boobs. She slumped for a moment,
pressing her breasts to ease their terrible burning. Her bottom also felt hot
and as if it had been turned inside out by the beast's horrid finger within her.
However, with a sigh, she unsteadily regained her feet, knowing she simply could
not give up on the brute glowering at her from the far corner.
----------------------------------------------------
Garth, was taking photos of the video scenes in the cell, for the
warder- as the guard had requested. Although Miss Wang merely looked on
impassive, Garth had a look of admiration on his handsome face as Rosemary
carried on relentlessly with her task. She glided gracefully, her gorgeous
bottom swaying seductively, back towards the prisoner, never taking her wide
frightened yet seductive eyes off him as she lay back on his bed. The warder
too sucked in his breath as the beauty opened her slender thighs until the dark
intimate secrets between them practically pouted at the lucky prisoner - and
those watching on the screen. Her fingers moved seductively, pulling at the
mauve hair-fringed delicacy between her uplifted legs dipping her own fingers
within both of her orifices then curling them in invitation at the sweating
giant. She lay further down and turned slightly so that the delicious curve of
her hips and bottom jutted towards him, completely open, gyrating slightly, the
flesh gleaming softly.
------------------------------------
The hulk moved tentatively towards the writhing bottom curving towards
him, staring at the fingers which held the cheeks apart to expose her little
puckered rosebud, red-painted and feminine. Like an automation he released his
slightly stiffening penis from his pants. It looked tiny in his huge hand but he
guided it towards the tiny pulsating hole proffered to him. Its flexing tip
brushed and nudged against the tiny rubber ring of muscle making his organ
harden slightly. One huge finger probed ahead into the round heat whilst the
other hand grasped a smooth white thigh. He was getting ever stiffer as the
inviting rosebud contracted and flinched away from the tip of the fleshy spear
which was about to invade it.
Suddenly though the spell was broken before he pushed in. Rosemary had
changed position presenting her other, larger, hair-fringed pink entrance to him
and beyond that her breasts were swinging from her kneeling bottom upthrust
position. With a gasping sob of frustration he slumped back onto the bed
covering his eyes, his manhood shrinking.
She slowly turned, realising with thanks that his assault in the
unnatural manner had not taken place, seeing the beast's huge frame shake with
sobs setting his many chins wobbling. She turned to sit beside him feeling
almost sorry for him now. Also though, she was again hurt that even an ugly
brutal slob such as he, had not found her sufficiently attractive despite her
best efforts. A bead of sweat popped out on her forehead at the thought of
failure - she simply had to f--k the disgusting brute.
Running her hands over her face and brushing back her hair she placed a
hand on his thigh. Pressing and sliding the length of her nudity against him,
she kissed his horrid fat, hairy nipples, sucking and circling them with her
tongue. She was a wanton abandoned woman with no shame - she had to be and
dare have none. The hard tips of her breasts dragged down his sagging paunch
like pure white fruit sliding down an old brown barrel as she slid the whole of
her supple nakedness against him slowly sinking to her knees. He gasped
slightly as her fluttering white hands found the bulge in his pants and cool
hands gently teased down the filthy garment until he too was naked, his still
limp manhood shrunken on his lap.
Shoulders sagging in resignation she stooped, her tongue fluttering and
stabbing over his shrunken manhood. Cupping his hairy balls, she stroked them
softly as she looked up at him with wide anxious eyes above the circle of her
working mouth. He groaned as she gripped his flabby buttocks, her fingers
straying near to the tight hot bud of his anus. Suddenly his manhood had an
added rigidity so that it almost came alive under her pink licking tongue.
At once both encouraged and disgusted Rosemary circled her fingers
nearer the heat of that revolting orifice whilst with flared nostrils her
bulging mouth worked avidly up and down his penis, tongue darting and thrusting,
trying to ignore the disgusting smell and taste. When she felt a little
rigidity between her pouting lips she removed her mouth and clambered up to sit
astride him on his lap as he raised himself to sit upright. His brown member,
glistening from the workings of her avid mouth, was now several inches long but,
after encircling and stroking it softly with her fingers, she realised it was
still not sufficiently rigid. However, she at last understood, with a shudder,
the direction of his leanings, appreciating her seeming lack of success with
conventional feminine methods.
Her dawning realisation made her glance up knowingly now at a picture on
the cell wall of a slim handsome youth. It was framed with black ribbon and
beside it lay a withered rose. Perhaps it was the beast's former lover? Maybe
he was in prison for killing him? Rosemary would never know - but the
speculation made her shiver slightly in dread. Yet she knew she must continue
trying to arouse him - she had no realistic choice.
He remained pliant under her ministrations, perhaps ashamed of his poor
showing with a woman. Although she had difficulty keeping the revulsion from her
eyes, there was also some sympathy and understanding now. Gulping, her slim
hand guided his to the cheeks of her bottom and taking one of his fingers, she
pushed it up into the hot tight hole of her bottom suspended over his thighs.
Her own finger then pushed under his flabby buttocks to push up into his anus
where it began to twist turn and thrust within him.
---------------------------
Watching on the video, the warder shook his head, an amazed look on his
face as the prisoner's manhood sprang into life to point almost accusingly at
the delicate fringe below the blonde's belly. She was nearly lost in his flabby
body, a little white girl sitting on her huge brown lover's lap - naked, fingers
thrusting up into each other's bottoms. His fingers were splayed like bananas
over her round white flesh with one curling up to disappear into the dark cleft
between the cheeks. The cost to her was obvious. There was the look of disgust
in her beautiful green eyes, which were moist with tears, as she slowly raised
her haunches above the brown spear and, with both of their fingers thrusting
into each other's bottoms, gently impaled herself.
----------------------------------
Rosemary's breath quickened; her goal and the end of her ordeal was in
sight now. She clasped his hot sweating body against her own and gasped in mock
excitement as his small penis, still not properly rigid, reluctantly slipped a
few inches into her. She gripped it tightly with her internal muscles, stroking
it, deeming never to let it go until it had done it's job. She also continued
to work away with her finger in his backside and felt his digit likewise
horribly stretching and exploring her there. She gave him a squeeze of
encouragement with her bottom and closed her eyes, wishing she could also close
her nose, as she leaned against him, bouncing on his lap to plant little kisses
on his neck. Thoughts of Damien again flashed through her mind and she gave
thanks that he would never know about this disgusting episode in her life.
She felt the brute move within her, start to shrink, she was in danger
of losing him but she refused to do so. With bared teeth and flared nostrils
she threw herself at him, biting his ears, crushing herself softness against him
and thrusting a second digit right up into his bottom. He then suddenly broke
wind on her fingers. Rosemary was sickened but, overcoming the desire to pull
them out of him she managed to take it as a cue and with an embarrassed squirm,
aided by her fear, she also relaxed her bowel.
Flurrp!
At her sudden anal contraction and the spurt of her hot gas on his
fingers he sprang to resurrected life again, swelling within her as she bounced
and moaned more frantically on his lap. His finger also stiffened further into
her bottom as she screamed and gasped wild encouragement in his ear.
He collapsed back on the bed with a stupid grin on his face - watching
her. Her body gleamed softly under a sheen of sweat as she eased herself off
him to wash herself as best she could in the small hand-basin - which she
decided he obviously seldom used. When she had pulled on her tight clothes
she looked at him again for the first time since their coupling and tried to
smile through her disgust.
She saw a fat smelly slob who must have committed some unspeakable crime
and who she had just had to screw. Although there had been no sexual pleasure
for her she had at least the pleasure of achieving her goal and even probably
sparing the brute's life - whether or not he deserved it.
She could only guess what he had made of her. He obviously had no great
interest in her, except for her bottom, yet he must think she was a rampant
whore with an insatiable appetite for sex. She accepted with an inward smile
that perhaps that statement was partly true, although never willingly with such
an evil creep who had let himself go to that extent. Nevertheless she knew she
had a healthy desire for sex and, knowing she was beautiful, she was, she
accepted, perhaps rather something of an exhibitionist. She certainly took a
pride in admiring glances and relished a secret delight in having so many recent
opportunities to receive so many. Of course, being obliged to do the things she
had done without choice took away any responsibility for her actions. Thus
although she hated some of the humiliations such as this, she knew deep inside
being honest with herself that many of the attentions and actions were not
totally unwelcome.
The line of thought made her recall a time a few years back when she had
been held hostage in a bank, an event which had received wide media coverage.
It had been frightening at first. She and half a dozen others had been herded
into a storeroom and ordered to strip to their underwear.
"You won't be hurt if you behave and do as you're told but hostages who
are undressed are less likely to cause trouble," the masked robber had growled
at them.
With fingers which felt as big and clumsy as cucumbers Rosemary had
unbuttoned and unzipped herself until she like the others stood shivering,
covering herself, yet realising slowly that she was somehow proud of the sly,
admiring looks the robbers afforded her exposed body.
"Spreadeagle, face down nose to the floor," they were ordered.
Later, she had to read out the robber's statement standing in a doorway
and dressed only in her bra and pants. Again, she had experienced an excitement
alongside the apprehension. Knowing she had a beautiful body, the thought of
all of those people, including Damien, and possibly around the world, who would
see her, made her tingle. There were probably numerous knights in shining
armour out there who would fantasise about rescuing her.
She was almost disappointed when the cameras stopped rolling. Then, as
the doors to the outside world began to close, her captors, loudly,
humiliatingly, ordered her to strip completely naked. However, when the door to
freedom had closed they grabbed her faltering hand on its way to her bra-strap
and stopped her striptease. It had all been for show to put pressure on the
authorities.
When a policeman negotiator wanted to verify the safety of the hostages
they were all tied into chairs. Hooded, they had their wrists bound tightly
behind them with gags filling their bulging mouths. In her case, the rag was
tied in place with her own tights. Still she wore only her underwear. The hood
was hot and smelly, sweat trickled down her face. Then she heard muffled
voices.
Suddenly light and cool air blazed into her stifling world. The
policeman stood under the robber's gun gazing at her in concern.
"There copper, I told you she was OK - for now. The sack over her head
is lined with explosives, we'll set it off if there's any trouble," the robber
had lied. Rosemary could only look imploringly at her potential rescuer, eyes
wide above the gag, unable to tell him of the robber's empty threat. "We'll be
giving her a more thorough search later," the man chuckled, running his hands
down her shoulders to cup her breasts, twanging her bra strap.
She had struggled helplessly in her bonds at the liberty his hands took
but the robber only laughed. Briefly she met the policeman's concerned, yet
excited eyes, trying to reassure him, let he know things weren't as bad as the
robber said, but the sack was again pulled down over her head, again rendering
her out of the equation - again just a helpless pawn.
It had almost seemed an anticlimax afterwards when they had been untied.
They were still kept in their underwear, but now under the guard of a female
robber. She chatted to them almost as if it was the most natural thing in the
world for them to be sitting on the floor in that state, knees up to their chins
whilst the woman justified their cause and hostage taking. When they were
finally rescued, she had felt almost a sense of disappointment that her ten
minutes of fame were over.
Back to reality, and Rosemary again almost experienced a sense of pride
when, although trussed up again and being led blindly back to the car, Mr Garth
lightly tapped her bottom.
"Well done Trixie, you did well. Saved a life and, who knows, converted
a homosexual with your enthusiastic relish to f-k!."
TO BE CONTINUED
