Jane Randolph *********************************************************** STANDARD DISCLAIMER =================== The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author. All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal. I wrote this story for my own personal enjoyment. If you find it to your liking, I would welcome your comments. Please do not repost without my permission.
Jane Randolph Chapter One My name is Jane Randolph. The story I am about to relate is so bizarre you may not believe it. Heavens knows, I am having trouble believing it myself, except that I have the visible reminders that it is true. Twenty-nine years of age, I have been a high-school English teacher for eight years. Still single, although Ralph Abrams and I have been dating each other pretty steadily for the past eighteen months. I would guess that I am considered fairly attractive with dark auburn hair, blue eyes and a very trim figure which I catered to by working out religiously four times a week. My problems began when I decided to take a week's vacation in Belize to sort through my involvement with Ralph and to rest up for the coming school year. I had rented a small car from an agency near my hotel and started out to explore the countryside. Since the VW bug was not air-conditioned, I had chosen to wear a simple halter and shorts over my bikini with a pair of open sandals. Both windows were down and I was enjoying the wind blowing my hair back as I sped down the back roads, searching for a deserted beach. Forty or fifty kilometers from the hotel, I was met by a roadblock with two men carrying automatic weapons. They were not dressed in uniform and for an instant, I thought of not stopping. Since then, I have wished that I hadn't but that would have eliminated this story. I am barely conversant in Spanish and when I pulled up to a stop, one of the men leaned into the car and said something that I didn't understand. I shook my head to indicate that. Apparently this was the wrong response because he angrily jerked the car door open and motioned for me to get out. While I was doing this the other man was talking over a hand-held radio. In less that two minutes, a jeep carrying two more armed men arrived at the roadblock and carried on a frenzied conversation with the man who had taken me from the car. Through a few words that I understood and the aim of his weapon, I gathered that they wanted me to get into the jeep. Terrified, I saw no other alternative and reluctantly climbed into the back seat. The two late arrivals jumped in and we tore off in the direction that I had been heading before being stopped. Two or three minutes later, we were heading off into the jungle, having left the pavement for a narrow trail through the dense underbrush. I was kept busy dodging the low hanging branches of the trees while my two companions seemingly ignored the close calls we made with a number of trees. Eventually we came to a small clearing where a couple of frame huts stood. I saw a half dozen men standing around, all carrying automatic weapons. But the thing that disturbed me most was the sight of a dozen women, chained to a huge wooden wheel, slowly trudging in a circle while the wheel turned. A huge monster of a man stood nearby, bare-chested and holding a menacing bull-whip which he cracked occasionally as he barked out orders to the poor suffering women. The only clothing the women wore were leather collars around their necks, wrists and ankles, and a thin leather thong. Several of the women bore vivid welts across their backs as they labored. Stunned, I sat in the back of the jeep until one of the men grabbed my arm and pulled me from the vehicle. I was roughly ushered into a nearby building and taken into a room where a bearded man sat at a desk, talking over a hand-held radio. I couldn't understand much of what he said, but the words were spoken angrily. I tried to wrest myself from the grip on my arms but it was useless. Helpless, I stood before the bearded man's desk while we waited for him to finish his conversation. When he shut off the radio, one of the men from the jeep tossed him my purse, which he proceeded to empty on top of the desk despite my protestations. Examining my billfold, he pocketed my cash and studied my driver's license. "You are Jane Randolph?" "Yes. Please! Give me back my things and take me back to my car. You have no right to hold me here. I have done nothing wrong!" "SHUT UP!" Stunned, I shrank back a bit as I stared into the cruelest eyes I had ever seen. The bearded man rose from his seat and walked around the desk until he stood facing me, his head only inches from mine. "You have invaded the territory of Joaquin Morales without permission. Those that do must suffer the consequences." "But, I don't know you! I saw no signs denying my access to the highway. Who are you? 'I am Joaquin Morales. General Joaquin Morales. This is my encampment. We are processing drugs for your stupid countrymen to burn up their brains with. How do I know you are not a government spy, sent to find my camp? I shook my head in dismay. "General, do I look like a spy? I am simply a schoolteacher on vacation. Now, let's take me back to my car and forget the entire episode. I promise I'll not say another word about this to anyone." "You have seen my camp, now. Why do you think I am so stupid as to let you go free after you've seen what is here? Besides, we need additional workers to help mill the powder your people love to shove up their nose. You appear to be in good health. Take off your clothes and let me examine you." "You've got to be kidding, General! I'll never submit to that! Now, let's stop this sham and take me back to my car." "I SAID TO TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES! Perhaps you would prefer for my men to do it for you?" One of the men from the jeep grabbed my halter and began to pull on it. "Wait! Don't tear it!" For some reason, I held out hope that I would be released and I wanted clothes to wear when that happened. It appeared I had little choice but to comply. I hooked my thumbs in the waist of my shorts and pulled them down over my hips, allowing them to fall to the floor where I stepped out of them. I know that I was blushing profusely as I reached behind my back to undo the clasp holding my halter. I had planned on sunning topless and had foregone wearing the top to my bikini. Swallowing hard, I pulled the straps from my shoulders and allowed the halter to join my shorts at my feet. I stood holding my arms across my chest in a futile effort to hide my nakedness. "Everything!" Joaquin commanded. I knew that I would have to shed my bikini bottom but the thought sent me into a state of despair. "EVERYTHING!" the command came again and I peeled my last remaining article of clothing off as tears streamed from my eyes. Embarrassed and chagrined, I stood trembling before the three men as three pairs of eyes explored every inch of my body. "Very good! Excellent! Yes, you will do well. I will be able to sell you for a lot of money!" Sell me! The words went through my brain like a bolt of lightning. I was sinking further and further into a pit of desolation from which I saw no escape. The incongruity of my situation was overwhelming. Just hours ago I was a happy tourist on a day's escapade and now I was being treated like something to be sold! I began to tremble and despite my resolve, I started to sob uncontrollably. "Pedro! See that our new recruit is suitably outfitted for her new responsibilities. It would be a good idea to show her the whip so that she has a good understanding of the need to obey all orders instantly. Her hesitancy in removing her clothes reflects a stubbornness that we will have to overcome." As the two men from the jeep grabbed my arms and prepared to take me out of the room, I could hear Joaquin's voice behind me. "The women you saw on the wheel were also stubborn at one time. Now, we have no stubborn people here." I was half-pulled, half-pushed into the room across the hall where Pedro rifled through a dresser drawer and pulled out a small leather thong that he threw at me. "Put this on!" he ordered. I examined the tiny article and saw that it consisted of a four-inch triangle connected at the corners by a thin strip of leather that tied at the ends. Thankful for any type of covering, I drew the leather strap around my waist, positioning the triangle so that it covered my sex. I reached down between my legs and drew the third strip of leather up between my thighs. The leather strap parted the lips of my pussy as I pulled it up to tie in back. I fought the strange sensation that the intruding garment created until I had the incongruous garment in place. When I straightened up and dropped my hands, both arms were immediately grabbed and leather bands placed around my wrists. Buckles were pulled tightly and I saw that the bands contained metal rings on either side of my wrists. While I was staring at these instruments of constraint, the two men placed similar straps around my ankles. I was now attired in the same costume as the women I had seen in the yard outside. I must confess that I experienced some strange sensations standing virtually naked before the two men. While I was terrified to be sure, I enjoyed sort of an obscene pleasure in the lustful stares my body was provoking. Despite myself, I thrust my tits out and threw back my shoulders, almost defiantly. Pedro stared at me and licked his lips. Suddenly realizing my sordid attempt at seduction, he grabbed my arm and propelled me out of the room and out of the building. The bright sun blinded me temporarily and I was unaware of my whereabouts as I struggled across the dusty courtyard of the encampment in the firm grip of Pedro and his companion. The first inclination of my predicament came when my arms were lifted over my head and I heard snaps. Blinking, I looked up to see my wrists fastened to the top of a tall wooden shaft. The smooth wood pressed against my naked breasts. Beyond the post, still laboring in the never-ending circle were the twelve women I was slated to join. Sweat dripped from their naked bodies as they laboriously pushed the wheel around and around. It didn't dawn on me at the moment that the bare-chested man had left his post and taken his position behind me. I scarcely noticed it when Pedro took my hair and brought it over my shoulder Whatever thoughts I had at the moment were banished when my back exploded in a riot of pain and I surged forward against the post. My breath left my lungs in one huge explosive gasp as the nerves in my body screamed in protest. Before I could catch my breath, another stroke creased my buttocks and my body surged against the unforgiving post. Again and again the whip found my bare back, shoulders, hips, thighs and buttocks. I heard hideous screams and realized that they were my own as I fought to maintain my sanity. Sweat was pouring from me now and, mixed with the welts raised by the whip, sent agonizing messages to my brain. By the time the whip-wielding man had stopped, I was reduced to a whimpering, sobbing animal; hanging by my wrists and unable to stand. Certain that the flesh had been removed from my back, I hung in despair; my hair matted and tangled. In desperation, I had twisted in an attempt to escape the lash and instead caught two strokes across my breasts that sent me into a paroxysm of agony. My bladder released and a stream of urine ran down my thighs. My world consisted of nothing but pain and desperation. They left me hanging there for the rest of the day. Toward evening, I watched as six women were led to the wheel and tethered to it, replacing six who were led off to someplace behind the building where Joaquin's office was. With the encouragement of the whip, they began their endless journey around the circle. The pain in my body was replaced by a continuous ache combined with a growing thirst. I had received nothing in the form of food or drink since early that day and the sun, combined with the torture had left me dehydrated. My lips were parched and my tongue did nothing to satisfy their thirst for moisture. As the sun was setting, the man called Pedro came and silently released me from the post. If he had not caught me, I would have fallen to the ground. Half carrying, half dragging me, he took me in the direction where I had seen the six women taken who had been released from the wheel. Behind Joaquin's office building, was a low rising cliff with stone jutting out beneath a grassy knoll. Carved into the stone were individual cages, no more than three feet high with iron bars covering the front. I could see several women peering out from behind the bars as Pedro drew me to a vacant one. Drawing my arms behind my back, he locked my wrists together before opening the cage door and pushing me inside. I found myself in a sort of cave that extended into the cliff five or six feet. The floor was covered with straw. There was nothing else inside the small cell. Pedro placed a small bowl of what appeared to be beans inside the cage along with another bowl of water. Unable to use my hands, I eagerly bent down and began to lap up the water like an animal. Tasting the beans, however, was not as pleasant an experience. Highly seasoned, they only increased my thirst and I abandoned them after only a few bites. I lay back against the straw, doing so rather tentatively, testing my back against the floor's covering. A moan escaped my lips as I touched the straw. "Psssst" I thought I heard a sound coming from nearby, but I wasn't sure. "Pssst! New girl!" It was! Someone was calling out to me. I crawled slowly over to the front of the cage and tried to look out. Darkness had fallen and the only thing I could see was a light in the building where Joaquin's office was. I pressed my face against the bars and tried to look to one side. The cliff curved a bit but it was impossible to see inside any of the other cages. "I'm here," I whispered. "Welcome to Hell!" came the response. "How long have you been here?" "I lost track a long time ago. I know I've had five periods since Joaquin's men took me. So, I guess its about four or five months." "Is there any chance of escape?" "No! I suggest you not try it. One of the women did and they caught her within two hours. What they did to her was a good lesson for the rest of us and they did it where we could all watch. I'll never try to escape even as bad as it gets." "What did they do?" "Believe me, you don't want to know. Let me just say that she lived far too long before they generously let her die." "What do they do here? Joaquin mentioned something about making narcotics." "That and a bit of slave trading. You saw us on the wheel today. Twelve hours on and twelve hours off, in two shifts of six hours each. The wheel turns an underground pump that is used in the manufacturing of the grade A powder Joaquin is selling. Try to stay out of the pump room; that is the worst place to be." "You'll be whipped occasionally for the slightest of infractions. The problem is you never know what the rules are so they can cite you for an infraction for any number of reasons. You'll also be fucked whenever someone has the urge. Joaquin enjoys having one of us up to his room occasionally for a few games of his own making. The sadistic bastard! Leona, in the cage at the end, couldn't walk for a week after one evening session with Joaquin. Because she couldn't walk, he had her whipped each morning and returned to her cage. She finally in desperation crawled out one day and allowed herself to be attached to the wheel. How she maintained her footing that day I'll never understand. All of us took the work of the wheel away from her so that she only had to walk around the circle, but that must have been a supreme effort on her part." "What is your name?" "Desdemona. Yours?" "Jane. Jane Randolph." "We don't use last names here, Jane. Anyway, you'll probably get a new one before you leave here anyway." "Leave here? I thought you said escape was impossible." "I'm not talking about escape. Don't you remember I said he was also involved in slave-trading." I sat in stunned silence. Sold as a slave! This couldn't be happening In the twenty-first century! -o0o- I must have dozed off because I awoke with a start. The cage door had opened to my small cell and someone was pulling on my leg. "Come! Come!" I crawled through the small opening on my stomach. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest at each movement. It took every bit of energy I had to stand up. It was still dark and my guard held a small lantern up to my face, blinding me. I tried to shield my eyes, temporarily forgetting that my hands were bound behind me. "Come!" The lantern moved off and I obediently followed. It was deathly quiet; the only sound was some bird in the jungle sounding it's mating call. I shivered a little although the night was still quite warm. I soon found myself standing beside the wheel, waiting for one of the women to be unfettered. As she stood, temporarily free of restraint, she stared at me with a look of sheer exhaustion coupled with what I detected was sympathy. I felt my wrists being released from their restraint and I was jerked into position behind one of the spokes of the wheel. My wrists were quickly locked in place as I grasped the smooth wooden shaft, still warm from the previous occupant's touch. Glancing around I saw that the other eleven spokes of the wheel were already occupied. Two or three of the women stared at me curiously as we waited for the order to move. When it came, it came as a stroke of the whip and the twelve of us started on our six hour journey to nowhere. After an hour or so, my body was so tired I could hardly move. Pushing on the wheel seemed like trying to move a brick wall and I wondered if the other women were indoctrinating me by simply holding on to their spoke without pushing. Sweat dripped from my body and my muscles ached and cried out for relief; relief that wasn't to be had. After two hours we were given a short break and a ladle of water was offered to each of us. I drank like it was the nectar of the gods! Then it was back to pushing the wheel. A brief rain storm cooled us off a bit and we all slowed to savor the refreshing water. The whip-master noticed this and began to flail us with his whip until we were literally jogging as the wheel spun around. When the faint traces of sunrise began to show over the jungle treetops, I was never more happy to hear the order to stop as twelve more recruits were brought forward to replace us. I lined up behind the others, waiting to be taken back to the cages when a hand grabbed me by the shoulder. "General Joaquin wants to see you. Come with me." Pedro took me by the arm and guided me back to the building where I had first been taken. Rather than entering the General's office, however, I was taken to the back of the building into a room that was obviously the General's living quarters. Lavishly furnished, it seemed out of place in such a primitive area. "Wait here," Pedro said as he knocked on a door at the back of the room. The door opened and Joaquin walked in, wearing a dark red silk robe. He was holding a cigar and smoke rose lazily from it's tip. "Well, I see our newest arrival has experienced her first turn at the wheel. None the worse for wear, I trust?" "No, General." I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I was near exhaustion. "Good! I thought perhaps you could provide a little pleasure for me before you return to your cage. Come over here." Joaquin sat down in a blue velvet chair with wooden arms. It was not until I approached him that I saw metal clips attached to the back of the arms. Pedro grabbed my shoulders and forced me to my knees in front of Joaquin's chair. Extending my arms, he clipped my wrists to the back of the chair's arms so that I was effectively pinned in place. It was obvious what I was supposed to do. Joaquin untied the sash around his robe and let if fall apart. Naked beneath it, I gazed down at a mass of dark hair and rising from it the largest cock I had ever seen. "Take it in your mouth, school teacher!" I hesitated. The thought was abhorrent to me but at the same time I felt a stirring that I had not felt in a long time. When the whip struck my back, I dove for Joaquin's groin and swallowed the semi-erect penis, feeling the tip of it against the roof of my mouth. The whip struck again and my tongue began to lick the bottom of his shaft. I felt it begin to grow inside my and my head began to bob up and down as my lips closed tightly against his now rigid meat. As I moved up and down, the whip found my back continually but I was so absorbed In my own lust that I actually welcomed it. My breasts rubbed against his thighs as I moved and my nipples grew hard as rocks. Lost in my thoughts, I was a little surprised when his cock suddenly jerked and his load of sperm filled my throat. I swallowed quickly but some dribbled from the corner of my lips and on to my chin. I raised my head to look up at Joaquin, hoping for some type of praise, I guess, but his stare at me was indifferent. Pedro released my wrists from the chair arm but quickly brought them behind me and fastened them once again. "A sorry little cock-sucker, Pedro," Joaquin announced as I stood humbled before this drug dealer, naked with cum dripping from my lips and my own juices running down my thighs. I'm not sure what I wanted at that moment: either a cock up my pussy or a hole to go hide in. Even in the dire situation I found myself in, I wanted to please the very man who had brought pain and misery into my life. "Put her in the pump room. Perhaps that will give her some encouragement to do a better job next time." -o0o- After three days in the pump room, I was ready to agree to anything Joaquin ordered me to do. -o0o- "Jane Randolph!" "Yes! Yes, Master!" "You are nothing but a slut!" "Yes, Master!" "What are you?" "A slut, master!" "A poor, miserable, sorry cock-sucking slut!" "Yes, Master!" "Say it!" "I am a poor, miserable, sorry cock-sucking slut!" "Put your hands up in the air!" "Yes, Master." "Higher!" "Yes, Master!" I stretch my arms upward as high as I can. My tits are sticking straight out' my nipples hard as rocks. I feel myself growing wetter by the minute. The whip struck my back and I surged forward, a gasp escaping from my lips. "Stand still!" "Yes, Master," I moan. My back is aflame but my pussy is now sopping wet. I begin to perspire. The whip strikes again and once more I stagger forward before catching myself. "I told you to stand still!" My answer is simply a sob as I begin to tremble. The pain in my back has now reached every nerve fiber of my body. "What should I do with you, poor miserable cock-sucking slut?" 'Whip me, Master!" "Where, slut?" "Whip my tits, Master! Whip my pussy!" "Spread your legs, slut!" As I obey Joaquin's command, I am astonished that these words have come from me. Four weeks ago, I would never have considered using the term "pussy" or "tits" in conversation. The whip strikes swiftly. The second blow, coming from the floor up between my thighs, sends me to my knees as I scream in anguish. My body is afire with a combination of pain and lust. I roll over on my back, my hand between my legs, massaging my burning cunt-lips. "Who gave you permission to play with yourself?" The whip struck me again, across the stomach and I cried out in agony. Instinctively, I curled up in a fetal position, hugging my aching breasts. Tears streamed from my eyes and sweat poured from every pore in my body. The whip descends on me and I begin to crawl, my breasts rubbing against the wooden floor. I am screaming at the top of my lungs as Joaquin lashes me with all of his strength. Finally, he stops. "Come here!" I crawl over to where Joaquin is seated. His robe has been untied and is open, exposing his rigid erection. I know what I am to do. I kneel between his thighs and take it into my mouth, licking it softly from tip to base. His balls are next as I caress them with my tongue. "Pedro!" I hear the command as a distant shout and know what is coming next. I raise my aching body up until I am on my knees, my butt sticking up in the air. At no time do I relinquish my oral grip on Joaquin's cock. The ridges of his blood vessels touch my lips as my head bobs up and down in it's fervent task. I feel two hands on the cheeks of my ass, parting them. I sense Pedro's cock pressing against my anus and I try to relax my sphincter muscles to accept it. After weeks of preparation, Pedro enters me easily, thrusting his cock deep into my bowels. My body is rocking back and forth now, as Pedro slams his meat into my ass. I can feel his stomach slapping against my cheeks and he grunts with each thrust. Joaquin has hold of my hair, holding me tight against his groin as I keep on sucking and licking his throbbing cock. My tits are swinging back and forth and I am close to orgasm. The three of us explode in one huge orgiastic explosion. Cum fills my mouth and ass while I scream my climax into Joaquin's cock. Exhausted, I collapse at Joaquin's feet. -o0o- "Jane!" I am awakened by someone calling my name. As consciousness returns, I realize it is Desdemona in the next crib. "Yes," I whisper. "Tomorrow is the day." "Tomorrow? What's going to be different about tomorrow?" I have been Joaquin Morales's captive for two months now. Each day is spent on the wheel; twelve hours of exhausting drudgery. At night, I am Joaquin's toy, to abuse, whip, torture or use in any way he sees fit. All resistance has left me long ago; his whip saw to that. If I was in a psychiatrist's office, he would soon find that a high degree of masochism dwells within me. I almost look forward to the evenings when I am assured of explosive orgasms at the hands of Joaquin and Pedro. "What's happening tomorrow?" I repeat, my face pressed against the iron bars that forms the open wall of my cave. "The auction." "The what?" "The auction. Buyers came into the camp today; I saw them. That means that there will be an auction tomorrow. Joaquin will sell any of us he can." A slave auction! I can't believe that Joaquin would sell me; not after what I've done for the past two months. Still, I am aware of his brutality and detached attitude. I lay back down with thoughts of being sold as a slave. A fitful sleep finally comes in which I dream horrible nightmares. -o0o- I am awakened by the sound of the lock of my cage opening. As I sit up, Pedro beckons for me to come out. Although I have experienced this many times in the past two months, it seems very different this morning. Pedro's attitude seems almost conciliatory. In his hands is not the customary whip but lengths of chain. When I am finally standing, he quietly locks my ankles together with a short length of the chain. Then he does the same to my wrists. As a final touch, he connects a length of chain to my collar that extends to the links between my ankles where it is also fastened. I wait submissively while Pedro retrieves Desdemona from her cage and outfits her with chains in the same manner as I. This is the first time that I have been able to observe Desdemona since my confinement. She is a tall black girl with large breasts. She looks at me with a gaze of compassion as Pedro completes his work. At his command, the two of us shuffle along behind him toward our unknown fate. I can't believe that Joaquin would sell me but it is obvious that this is his intention. My heart is as heavy as the chains that rattle as I walk. Unbelievably, I am falling in love with my captor and torturer. A dais has been erected near the center of the encampment and folding metal chairs placed in rows in front of it. At least 20 or more men occupy the chairs, talking and laughing in several different languages. Atop the dais is a wooden structure in the shape of a "T". Dangling from the two ends of the horizontal piece of wood are short pieces of chain. Standing behind the dais are six other women, captives of Joaquin just like Desdemona and myself. Joaquin is standing with them, giving orders that I can't make out. As Desdemona and I arrive to join the other six women, Joaquin looks at me with a stare that almost seems hostile. At the least, he appears to not even acknowledge my presence. I bow my head in a mixture of disappointment and shame. Joaquin turns and climbs up steps to the platform and raises his hands for quiet I can only hear part of what he is saying. He welcomes the men to his auction and tells them that he has eight women to be sold that day. He further states that if any final bid is less than he feels appropriate, the bid is null and void. There is some other instructions, but I am too dazed to hear them. Finally, Joaquin turns and motions to Pedro. He takes both Desdemona and myself by the arms and leads us up the steps. A murmur rises from the men in the audience as the two of us are led to the base of the "T". Unlocking our wrists, Pedro raises our arms and refastens our wrists to the chains hanging from the crossbar. When he has finished, Desdemona and I are standing facing the group of men with our bodies completely exposed. The chain hanging between my breasts that is still attached to my ankles grazes my flesh while I stand trembling in fear. At the same time, a strange feeling of wantonness fills me. I suppose every woman has fantasized about a moment like this but few have experienced it. I wonder which of these men will become my new tormentor. Joaquin picks up a slender riding crop and runs it gently across my breasts. Immediately my nipples grow larger and harder and I squirm uneasily, provoking more murmurs from the group of men in the audience. He does the same to Desdemona and I hear her gasp at the touch of the instrument of pain. I feel fingers at my back and suddenly the only piece of clothing I have known for two months, the small leather thong, is untied and removed; leaving me completely naked. Joaquin had long before had me remove all of my pubic hair and the lips of my pussy now were on full display. My lascivious state of mind was obvious as moisture was clearly visible on my sex. While I turned red in embarrassment, Joaquin turned to the group of men. "This one," pointing at me, "has only been here for two months. During that time she has shown some aptitude for hard labor. Even more important, she seems to thrive on physical pain. You will find her a willing slave who will quickly obey your every command. Perhaps, one of you who has more patience than I will educate her in the ways of a woman satisfying a man. She shows promise in that area but has much to learn. I wish to start the bidding at $5,000." I am crestfallen at hearing Joaquin's words. While I am far from being a prude, I have surrendered my body in ways that I would have never imagined before being captured by him. I can't imagine what I could have done that would have pleased him. "Now, this one," pointing at Desdemona, "has been here for almost nine months. During her stay, she has become one of our strongest workers. Her body is tireless. She has shown that she can work long hours without relief. Her tolerance to pain is remarkable; I have yet to hear her scream. Like the other here," pointing at me, "she has much to learn about pleasing a man. You will enjoy teaching her, as you will the other. Like the first, I will start the bidding at $5,000. Who do you wish to bid on first?" Several men shout "The negra!" and a few call for "the redhead!". Joaquin nodded and pointed at Desdemona. 'Who will start the bidding?" In a stupor I listened as numbers were shouted from the audience. Glancing at Desdemona, I was surprised at how calmly she was reacting to the bidding for her body. Barely discernable, but nevertheless apparent, her nipples, like mine, had hardened and enlarged. In fact, her breasts; which were already magnificently large, had swollen and were jutting from her body like beacons. Her black eyes were blazing and she threw back her head defiantly as the bidding grew. In less than five minutes, Desdemona had been sold for $20,000. Now it was my turn. Joaquin walked over and stood before me, a sneer on his lips. Again he caressed me with the riding crop, inducing another gasp from me and a soft moan. I would have given anything at that moment for Joaquin to take me down and rape me in front of all of these men. But that would not happen. "Alright, gentlemen. What am I bid for this prize?" There was silence. I strained forward as much as I could, thinking that somehow I hadn't heard a bid, but there was none. Joaquin was visibly angry as he took a step toward the audience. "Surely there is someone who wishes to train this little beauty. Do I hear $5,000.?" Silence. I blush with embarrassment. Its like someone doused me with cold water. Am I so unattractive? Then the thought occurs to me. Amazingly I have become upset because no one wants to take me as a slave! How could I have gotten to this point? Jane Randolph, school teacher, has transformed into Jane Randolph, slave. Joaquin has grown very angry now as he paces back and forth. Suddenly he turns and lashes out at me with the riding crop, raising a bright red welt across the top of my breasts. I cry out in pain and my body twists from side to side. Joaquin decides to take out his anger on me. Positioning himself behind me, be begins to flog me with the crop again and again until I am screaming at the top of my lungs. When he has finished, I am reduced to a sobbing piece of flesh, my body well striped from shoulder to thigh. "Tell these men who you are!" shouts Joaquin. "A slut!" I whisper. "I can't hear you!" "A SLUT!" I cry, between sobs. "WHAT?" "A POOR, MISERABLE, SORRY COCK-SUCKING SLUT!!!" I shout the words that Joaquin has taught me to say while thrusting my body forward, my tits jutting from my body. I spread my legs to reveal the soaked pussy between my thighs. The bidding is a flood, as if every man in the audience wants to own me. When Joaquin finally stops the bidding, I have been sold for $50,000. -o0o- My new owner is Khalid. Emir Khalid al Ben Raz. I am to be taken to his Imperial Palace in Qatar by ship. Pedro releases me from the dais and relocks my wrists together with the short piece of chain that I had come to the auction wearing. I look longingly at the thong that had been stripped from me, but Pedro tosses it aside. Naked, I am taken to a bamboo cage where I am locked up until the other six women have been sold. I am Khalid's only purchase of the day. As the evening begins to become night, the bamboo cage in which I am locked is placed on the back of a truck. As I am driven from the compound, I look back and see Desdemona waving to me from another bamboo cage. I wave to her. It is the last sight I have of the encampment of Joaquin Morales. The truck drives for hours and I am thankful that it is dark. We pass small villages and I wonder if the people there realize that a slave is being transported before their very eyes. Hours later, the truck stops and I can smell the fresh air of the sea. A crane lifts my cage from the truck and sets it down on the deck of a small steamer. I glance around to see if Khalid is present, but he is not. My only company are the seamen on the steamer as they shout orders to get underway. As the steamer leaves the dock, I stare in dismay at the disappearing land. I wonder if I will ever see it or anything in the Western Hemisphere again. Chapter one Ends.
Jane Randolph Chapter Two "The Bamboo Cage Is My Home" The bamboo cage is my home. Resting atop the deck of the steamer "Omar", I await my fate at the hands of Khalid. I haven't seen him since we left Belize three days ago. Perhaps he has gone on ahead. Only the seamen who steer this ship toward my new destiny accompany me. So far, I have been almost completely ignored. Twice each day, the ship's cook brings me a dish of stew and a bottle of water. There is a bucket inside the cage that I must use for nature's requirements. It is embarrassing to squat over the bucket while seamen dash about on deck but I have no choice. When I awake each morning, the bucket has been emptied and replaced. As the sun rises on the fourth day, one of the seamen comes to my cage and unlocks it. "Out!" I crawl out and stand, grateful for the opportunity to stretch my limbs and completely unashamed at exposing my nakedness before this stranger. Curious how in such a short time my inhibitions have disappeared. I flex in front of him, showing my breasts in all of their glory while my arms reach high over my head. He watches me intently but I can't read any emotion in his eyes. "Khalid wants you whipped every fourth day until we reach Qatar. Come over here!" Horrified, I see no other recourse but to follow. Where could I go? Four days out to sea left me alone on the steamer with far too many men to attempt resistance. Meekly, I shuffle along behind him as we make our way toward the bow of the boat. Near the bow is the mast of a crane, used to load and unload cargo. The mast must be at least twenty feet tall and three feet in diameter. I am pushed up against the metal shaft and at once experience the hot steel, exposed against the sun for many hours, against my breasts and stomach. Grasping my hands, he pulls them forward and around the mast where he ties my wrists together with a short length of rope. My hair, which is now below my shoulders, is tossed over my right side, exposing the full length of my back, buttocks and thighs. "Five should do it," I hear him say as he disappears behind me. Seconds tick by that seem like hours as I wait for the pain that I know is coming. Without warning, my back explodes in a fiery bolt of agony. I leap up, having no place else to go, and the warm steel of the crane rubs against my breasts. The second blow comes quickly, before I can recover from the first and a gasp comes from my lungs as they empty themselves of air. Then the seconds pass as I wait, dreading the next stroke and wondering when it would come. My body tensed as every nerve screamed in anguish. I was sweating profusely and the salty beads of moisture burned as if they, too, were strips of leather. The third stroke came when I was not expecting it and I screamed in agony. My legs collapsed beneath me and I hung, half-standing and half-kneeling, huge sobs racking my body. The fourth stroke came up from the deck and parted my cheeks with such force that it drove my body upward until I was once again on my feet. I shook my head from side to side in frenzy, unable to dispel the pain that consumed me. The fifth and final stroke again caused my legs to collapse and I found myself hugging the metal shaft on my knees. A bucket of water was thrown over me and my hands were untied. I lay on the deck, unable to stand or move for several minutes. Finally, the seaman who had whipped me came and nudged me with his foot. "Back in the cage!" I rose to my hands and knees and crawled across the deck, happy to collapse inside my bamboo home. -o0o- We are now ten days at sea. I have experienced my second lashing at the hands of the seaman whom I learn is named Tom. He is an Englishman in the employ of Khalid and I am the fifth female he has transported to Qatar as Khalid's slave. When I try to tell him of my past life as a schoolteacher, he turns away, refusing to listen. I realize that my past is meaningless now; the only thing I have to think about is the present and my future. It is dusk and the sea is calm. There is a beautiful sunset on the horizon and under different circumstances the scene would enrapture me. There is cause for my concern however. The seamen have been drinking for several hours now and their talk and laughter grow louder by the minute. I wonder who is tending to the ship. The cook has not brought me anything to eat or drink since early this morning. Two of the seamen stagger on to the deck and leer at me in my bamboo cage. "Hey!" one of them shouts, "let's have some fun with the whore!" Five more of the seamen instantly join them as they gather around my cage. The smell of whisky is overpowering as I peer up at them in dismay. One unlocks the cage and drags me out. I am kneeling at their feet, my head bowed. Despite my resolve, I begin to tremble in their presence. "Let's fuck 'er!" "Naw, let's whip er!" "Let's fuck 'er and whip 'er!" "Wait!" The men turn toward a short seaman with a heavy dark beard. His shirt is stained and his eyes are bloodshot as he makes his way over to where I kneel. A sadistic leer peers down at me. "Let's keel-haul 'er, then fuck 'er and whip 'er!" All of the men begin laughing and cheering as two men grab me and lift me to my feet. Awestruck, I can do nothing but stand there while ropes are tied around my wrists and ankles. Two men dash off and return shortly with a long length of rope that disappears over the side of the steamer. The end of this is tied to my wrists while another piece of rope is brought across the deck and tied to my ankles. "No!", I plead as they carry me toward the gunwale. "Don't do this, please! I'll do anything you want; please don't do this!" My pleas fall on deaf ears as I am carried to the edge of the ship. A tug on the rope tied to my wrists pulls me forward and suddenly I am diving headfirst into the sea. Terrified, I feel the bottom of the ship scrape my body as I am pulled beneath it. The sound of the engines roars in my ears and I choke as I swallow seawater. The ship is rough and I feel my flesh being torn as I am pulled along beneath it. Just as I feel I am drowning, my head breaks water and I am pulled up the opposite side of the ship. Sputtering and choking, I hang by my wrists at the side of the boat while the seamen look down at me and roar with laughter. Then I feel a tug at my feet and once again I am under water, being pulled back across the hull of the steamer. This time my breasts are torn against the rough surface of the metal and I scream with pain into the watery prison I now find myself. Far too slowly I am pulled to the other side and finally lifted, feet first, from the sea; coughing and choking while I fight for air. Then its back into the water for another trip across the hull of the boat. It was then that I lost consciousness. As I come to, I find myself lying on the deck, puking seawater. Around me stand the crew while one of them is pressing against my back to expel the water from my lungs. Trickles of blood stream from a dozen cuts across my breasts and stomach while another series stripes my back. Seeing that I am now back amongst the living, the man pumping water from me flips me over on my back while two men spread my legs apart. Without ceremony, my reviver drops his pants and guides his stiff cock into my yawning pussy. I am dry and he experiences difficulty in entering. I cry out as he plunges into me and my body stiffens. Back and forth he moves; each thrust a searing agony until I begin to react to the stimulation. Despite myself, I start to respond to this rape and my body rises to meet his downward plunge. His hands are on my tits, squeezing and pinching my nipples while I moan in a mixture of lust and despair. Unbelievably, I reach out with my arms and pull him closer to me while the two of us rut in pure animal desire. My orgasm prompts a guttural cry from my throat while I feel my mate stiffen and his sperm fills my slit. The brush with death has created a change in me that I cannot understand. When the next crewman replaces the first, my body rises to meet him and I pull him close to me as I did the first. Again we are two welded into one as each satisfies his sexual appetite in pure abandon. It matters not that there are witnesses to our act; we are the only ones in the world for that moment. Never before had I experienced such complete ascendancy to the throne of gratification. The third, then the fourth and so replaced the second man on. I was in the midst of one continuous orgasm that lasted for what seemed hours. When the last crewman had unloaded his semen, I lay panting on the deck, my body exhausted. Drenched in now what was sweat, I was hauled to my feet and taken back to the crane mast where my hands were lashed high over my head. As they took turns whipping me, I found myself in almost an out of body experience. The screams I heard seemed to be coming from someone else; the pain a welcome awareness that my body now was simply to afford pleasure to men in whatever manner they saw fit. Numbed from depravity and suffering, I was barely conscious of being released from the mast and carried forward to the prow of the steamer. My arms were extended and lashed to the low railing of the bowsprit while I was lowered to the front of the steamer. I was now a human bowsprit, lashed to the front of the ship while spray washed my face and waves burst over my body. It was in this position that I spent the night. -o0o- Twenty-three days after leaving Belize, we reach the coast of Qatar. Every fourth day, Tom would take me from my cage and apply the five strokes of the whip just as he had done before. The rest of the crew, after seeing my response to their gang rape, would take me from my cage each night and satisfy their urges. I was simply an orifice for their cocks, eagerly taking them in any of my three openings. My life had become one of being the ship whore. My cage is lifted from the deck of the ship by the crane that I spent so much time beneath. Swung through the air, I am deposited atop a truck and watch helplessly while the cage is strapped down. The two Arabs from the truck look at me as if I am no more than a package to be delivered to their employer. The truck starts and off we go across the desert. It seems as if we travel for hours across an endless sea of sand. The dust is everywhere and it is unbelievably hot. Soon I am covered with a layer of grime and sweat while the truck tosses from one side to the other over a bumpy trail. Finally we come to a stop. I clear my eyes as best I can and look out to see a high wall extending for as far as I can look. A gate swings open and the truck starts again. As we move through the gate, I see both men and women walking casually along city streets. The women have their face covered with veils; only their eyes peer out at me as we pass. Several blocks later, the truck stops once again while another gate is opened. Then it up a long driveway where we pull to a stop outside the largest home I have ever seen. Easily outdoing the chateaux of France, this palace must cover an entire city block. Tall spires reach high into the sky from all four corners and ramparts line the top of the outer wall. The windows are all barred and for a moment I think I see a face in one of them. My examination is halted when I feel the bamboo cage being lifted from the truck and set on the ground. Then one of the Arabs from the truck unlocks the entry and I crawl out, relieved at the opportunity to stretch once again. I am immediately taken by the arms and ushered into the palace through a heavy wooden door. Inside the door are two more Arabs, dressed simply in white linen loin clothes. From their appearance and demeanor, I gather that they are eunuchs They bow solemnly to the two from the truck and take my arms to lead me further into the palace. I am taken to a room where a huge pool sets in the center, steam rising from the water in it. Two women are standing in the pool, naked as I am. The eunuchs allow me to step down into the warm water and I gratefully do so, welcoming the warmth and luxuriating in the first bath I have had in over three months. The two women move in and wash me tenderly with a mild soap and shampoo my long hair while I lay back in utter exhilaration. Far too soon, they lift me from the pool and dry me with a soft towel. Then fragrant oil is rubbed all over my body while I sigh with delight. As if on signal, the two eunuchs reappear and usher me from the bath and back into a hallway. I am taken into a small room that is completely tiled from floor to ceiling. There is a table there just like the one my OB used back in the States. To one side is a small cabinet. Nothing else provides any clue to the purpose of this room. The two eunuchs place me on my back atop the table and strap my arms to the side. My legs are spread and also strapped down, followed by a heavy strap that goes across my stomach, just below my breasts. Then they disappear, leaving me to wonder what will happen next. A few minutes later, an Arab gentleman in a white smock enters the room and peers down at me. A stethoscope is hanging from his neck, leading me to believe he is a doctor. While I cannot see, he is behind me, arranging things on what sounds like a metal tray. Then he reappears with a tray mounted on a stand next to the examining table. "I welcome you to the Palace of Emir Khalid al Ben Raz. You are fortunate to have been selected by our Prince. Your life here will be one like you never imagined." I was already sure of that but felt it best to not comment. Silently I watched as the doctor busied himself with instruments on the tray. Then he took a small piece of cotton and began to wipe my nipples with it. The cool liquid caused them to immediately grow more pointed and I realized he was disinfecting them. Before I realized what was happening, he grasped my left breast and thrust a needle through the tender flesh just beneath the aureole. Calmly, he dabbed a drop of blood with a swab of cotton while working the needle around to enlarge the hole. After the initial pain, I felt nothing and watched in disbelief while he withdrew the needle and replaced it with a gold ring some three inches in diameter. The break in the ring was fed though my nipple and a spring catch snapped shut when it appeared through the opposite side. The ring was then reversed slightly, allowing the break to be hidden inside my breast. Methodically, the doctor then proceeded to repeat this procedure on my right breast. As he finished I could feel the cool metal resting against my flesh and looked down at the adornment that would forever announce to the world that I was no longer a free woman. I cringed when the doctor moved to between my thighs and began to spread the lips of my pussy. Suddenly aware of what was about to happen, I began to protest but my pleas fell on deaf ears. A sharp pain caused me to wince as the labia was pierced on each side and identical rings placed at the entrance to my sex. When the doctor was satisfied with his efforts, he undid the straps holding me down and allowed me to stand. I saw myself reflected in a mirror and stared in wonderment at the transformation of my body. The rings glistened in the light of the room and I couldn't help but admire myself. My two eunuchs returned and escorted me from the room and down a long hallway to a flight of stairs. Up we climbed for several flights before coming to a landing in front of an ornately carved wooden door. One eunuch knocked and a muffled sound came from within. The door was opened and I was escorted inside. Seated on a huge chair mounted on a low throne sat Khalid. Following the lead of the two eunuchs, I fell to my knees and bowed my head. "Raise your head and place your hands behind it!" I brought my hands up and locked them behind my head. "Spread your legs apart as you kneel before me!" I spread my legs, exposing every bit of my body as I knelt before my new master. With my hands behind my head, my newly decorated breasts jut out from my body almost obscenely. "What is your name?" I realize that Khalid knows quite well what I was named before he bought me and I recall the wisdom of Desdemona. "My name is whatever you wish to call me, Master." "You will be called Selene." Khalid lifts a goblet and drinks from it as he studies me. I blush at his intense stare with the sensation that he can read my thoughts. At that moment I am close to an orgasm while simply kneeling before a man I have only seen twice in my life. "Goban!" The command rings through the room and one of the eunuchs comes running up to the throne and prostrates himself before Khalid. "Goban, bring me some bells." The eunuch rises and dashes from the room. In a couple of minutes, he returns with a small jeweled box that he hands to Khalid. Khalid rises and approaches me. Opening the box, he takes out a small bell, no more than three or four inches high. He proceeds to attach it to the ring in my right breast. Taking another from the box, he then attaches it to the ring in my left breast. "I want to hear those bells ring anytime you are in my presence. Do you understand?" "Yes, Master," I reply meekly, shaking my tits to the sound of the tinkle of the little bells. I was secretly pleased with the sound but kept my head bowed in submission. "Have you been whipped today?" Startled at the question, I briefly look up I astonishment. "No, Master," I whisper. "You must be whipped every day to remind you of your position. Goban, bring me the flogger!" The little eunuch scurries off and returns quickly with a small leather flogger; strands about eighteen inches long hanging from a thick handle. He hands it to Khalid and bows as he backs away. "Stand up, Selene!" I rise to my feet as Khalid approaches me. "Place your hands behind your head and spread your legs." Trembling with a mixture of anticipation and fear, I obey Khalid's command. As I bring my arms back parallel with my shoulders, my breasts swell and my nipples harden. The little bells jingle from my shivering and a thin bead of perspiration forms on my naked flesh. I can feel myself becoming moist between my thighs as Khalid circles me, flicking the whip casually and caressing my body. Suddenly and without warning, he strikes hard across my breasts. My breath whistles through my clenched teeth and my knees buckle slightly but I manage to remain standing. Tears form in my eyes but at the same time I feel myself becoming increasingly hot and moist between my thighs. I rejoice in the knowledge that I am this man's slave; to do with what he pleases. As the whip strikes again, I thrust my body forward to meet it and moan softly as the leather straps caress my body. No longer does the whip cause pain. It delivers me to heights that I had never experienced before. Khalid lashes me again and again until, exhausted, I collapse on the floor. No screams have elicited from my lungs. I squirm on the floor beneath the tongues of the whip, unable and unwilling to escape. Only when Khalid tires does the torture stop. My orgasm continues for long minutes afterwards. -o0o- Goban takes me from Khalid's room as soon as I am able to walk. We follow a long hall and then up several flights of stairs until we come to another ornately carved door. Goban opens it and motions for me to enter. I have yet to hear him utter a word. Inside, I find myself in Khalid's harem. Along one wall are rows of beds with small stands separating them. Above each bed is a large ring embedded in the wall from which hang chains with manacles at the ends. In one corner is a small pool of water, steam rising from it. Standing in the pool are two women; both naked and adorned with rings through their nipples just like my own. They look at me curiously and I return the stare. At the other end of the room stand several devices of restraint, which I immediately recognize as the punishment area. Another woman, also naked, is chained to a cross. Vivid welts criss-cross her body and her head hangs down with her chin resting on her chest. Her hair hangs down over her face but I can see that she is quite beautiful. In the same area are stocks, whipping posts and a rack. As Goban leaves the room, I hear the door locked behind me. At that moment, another woman approaches me, smiling. She is gorgeous! The rings through her nipples and labia glisten as she strides easily across the room. Her coal-black hair hangs loosely over her shoulders, framing a beautiful face with high cheek bones and dark eyes. Her skin is the color of olives and I guess that she is Arabian. "Welcome," she says, "to Khalid's palace. We heard that you were coming. My name is Astrid. What has Khalid decided to call you?" "Selene." "Good! Selene, you are the sixth member of our group. The two in the pool are Casandra and Keli. That is Ramona on the cross. She refused a Khalid command yesterday and this is her reward." "I only see four others. Where is the fifth?" "It is Khalid's practice to lend us to other Sheiks from time to time. Dahlia is Keli's twin sister. She has been gone for three days now. I am growing concerned for her welfare. Ahmid, whom she has been sent to, is known as the most sadistic Chieftain in the land. More than once has one of his slaves died under his command. We pray for her safe return." A bell sounds three times from some distant place and Casandra, Keli and Astrid immediately start toward the row of beds. I stand, bewildered, until Goban suddenly appears and takes me by my arm. He leads me to the bed at the far end of the row and fastens a pair of manacles to my wrists. By his motions, I learn that I am to lay down on this bed. Doing so, I find that my arms are held above my head while Goban fastens two shackles around my ankles to the end of the bed. I am soundly imprisoned for the night. The other three are likewise restrained, leaving only Ramona who continues to hang from the cross. As Goban once again departs, the lights are turned off and only the soft moonlight illuminates the room. I have come to the end of my first day in Khalid's palace. The end of Chapter Two "My Name is Jane Randolph"
Jane Randolph Chapter III "The Depths of Hell" Ahmid bin Said was well known as the most sadistic ruler in all of Northern Africa. He took great pleasure in annihilating his enemies but only after subjecting them to endless tortures. It was said that Ahmid knew more methods of inflicting pain than Marquis de Sade. As a result, the rest of the Arab nations hated him, yet they feared him beyond approach. Ahmid ruled in absolute tyranny and no one had sought to overthrow him. It was to this monster that Khalid has seen fit to send me. Astrid had pointed out to me when I arrived at Khalid's palace a month ago, that it was his proclivity to loan members of his harem to various Arab chieftains for their personal use. When I had first arrived, Astrid also described how Dahlia had been sent to Ahmid and never returned. Khalid seemed unconcerned about her disappearance and now it is my turn for the tyrant. I've been outfitted with a steel collar equipped with several "D" rings attached to its perimeter. From two of them hang slender chains that run through the rings of my nipples and are attached to another slender chain that hangs low on my hips. Two more chains that are attached to this metal belt run through the rings of my labia, up through and between my thighs, and up my back to fasten to the collar. Thus attired, I am placed in a cage, which is atop a flatbed truck. My arms are brought over my head and chained to the top of the cage. Hence, my journey begins. It is a full day's drive to the kingdom of Dahlid, the realm of Ahmid's. The truck bounces around a lot and by the end of the day I am covered with dust and desperate for a drink of water. Standing all day has left me exhausted as well. It is almost with a sense of relief that I feel when the truck stops before a nondescript building in a small town in the middle of the dessert. When my wrists are released from the top of the cage I almost fall down. Roughly, two men pull me from the cage and drag me inside the building. A short, ugly man is standing inside with a sneering grin on his face. It is Ahmid. "Ah, Khalid has served me well. Clean the slut up and bring her to the punishment room." I look forward to a warm bath and the fragrant oil treatment but instead I am ushered into a tiled room and a cold blast of water is aimed at me from a fire hose. Shivering, I cower in one corner while the water tears at me. Finally it stops as I sag to the floor. Dripping wet and gasping for breath, I am dragged out of the room and down a long hallway to what Ahmid has called the punishment room. Inside I understand why it is called so. Every conceivable device known to man to inflict punishment is arranged here. Whips, chains, stocks, crosses, racks, and more greet my eyes. Although I am terrified I enjoy a brief moment of wantonness as I sense my body responding to the erogenous nature of my surroundings. My nipples grown harder and the small bells attached to the rings jingle a bit when I am harshly shoved forward. Ahmid is waiting for me. He is a repulsive looking man. Standing no more than 5'6", his face is almost covered with a full beard. Black, sadistic eyes peer out from thick, dark, eyebrows. He is stripped to the waist and his upper body is covered with black hair. Despite his short stature, he is heavily muscled with broad shoulders and thick arms. "Kneel!" he shouts. I fall to my knees with my legs spread apart and my hands locked behind my head, my eyes cast downward toward the stone floor. "Khalid tells me you enjoy pain. Is that true?" "Yes, Master," I whisper, a tremor running through my body. I can feel myself becoming hot and wet. "Then stand with your legs spread wide and hands behind your head." I obey quickly. Ahmid flicks the whip several times and each time I flinch, awaiting the glorious pain that I know is coming. Then he strikes, the lash cutting into my breasts, raising bright red welts while my breath leaves my lungs in one huge gasp. Khalid had whipped me well, but never had I felt such pain from one single stroke of the whip. I stagger momentarily but quickly recover. When I do, the whip strikes again. This time it is across my lower belly, doubling me up with a groan as I fight against the raging anguish spreading through my body. Tears are running down my cheeks now and I begin to sweat. I straighten once again only to receive the whip across my lower back. Ahmid is in a frenzy now, laying lash after lash on my naked body. The screams rising from my lungs are deafening as I bear the brunt of Ahmid's savagery. No longer am I awaiting an orgasm as pain sears through my brain. I finally collapse on the floor, unable to stand any longer. Ahmid doesn't stop, however, and the whip strikes me until I am rendered unconscious. -o0o- Ahmid has chained me to a horizontal rack, my arms high over my head and my legs spread wide. His helper is standing behind me where the wheel stands that tighten my chains. Already my body is stretched almost to the limit. My tits are swollen and my nipples are as hard as rocks while I look out at Ahmid from behind my hair that hangs down over my eyes. Sweat drips from my body. Ahmid leans over me, his face just inches from mine. "Are you enjoying the pain, Selene?" "Yes, Master," I whisper. I can barely talk. "I think you can take some more." Ahmid turns away and returns with small alligator clips attached to wires. I quickly realize what he is about to do. "Oh, No, Master! Please, don't do this!" My pleas fall on deaf ears as he attaches one of the clips to my left nipple ring and the other to the right. Two more clips are attached to the rings in my labia. Despite my limited range of motion, I begin to tremble while Ahmid picks up a small black box. 'AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!" The current surges into me with the ferocity of a lighting bolt. My body stiffens and rises from the rack slightly while my tits vibrate obscenely. For an eternity I bounce up and down while the current rushes through me. When it stops, it leaves me gasping for breath; tears streaming from my eyes and drool running down the side of my cheek. For several moments, I continue to jerk and spasm uncontrollably. "Oh, God. . .please. . .ohhhhh . . ." Ahmid seems intent on killing me. I am praying that he does it soon. "UUUNNNNNNGGGGHHHHHH!!!!" The current hits me again and once more I am a convulsing body of pain. I slam up and down on the table while my eyes roll back into my head. It feels like my brain is about to explode and I can't breath. Then it stops. "ooohhhhhhh!!!" I moan, my head shaking from side to side. I have pissed all over myself and am now laying in a puddle of urine. The crank turns and my body is stretched more and more. My shoulders feel as if they are about to leave me. I am now sobbing hysterically. Ahmid leans over the rack and peers into my blood-shot eyes. "I thought Khalid said you could withstand pain. You disappoint me!" -o0o- I have found Dahlia. Rather, we have found each other. The two of us are hanging by our wrists, feet a foot from the ground, in the courtyard of Ahmid's palace. The desert sun bakes our bodies. We have been hanging for more than three hours and I drift between moments of lucidness and hallucination. Dahlia's body shows evidence of extreme torture. On her hip is a large "S", burned into her flesh with a branding iron. It is obvious that Ahmid does not intend to return her to Khalid. I wonder if that is my fate also. My arms have long since lost all feeling and my shoulders are ablaze with agony. There is no respite for the two of us while we await Ahmid's next cruelty. I am surprised that no attempt has been made to use me sexually. Dahlia, when she has been able to respond, tells me that for three days she was raped continuously by both Ahmid and many of his guards. Then for a full week, she was the concubine for Ahmid's army. Her thighs show evidence of dried blood and she groans constantly. One of Ahmid's henchmen appears and for a moment I hope we are going to be released. When he nears and I see the whip in his hand, I know better. I am jerking and shaking as the whip plays against my back. Dahlia's screams are mixed with mine as the Arab alternates between the two of us. Each time I faint, a bucket of water is thrown on me to revive me. For thirty minutes the two of us endure such torment that we are both left barely conscious, our sweat-stained bodies twitching in the hot, desert sun. -o0o- Ahmid has summoned the two of us to his throne room. Dahlia and I kneel before him; our legs spread wide apart and our fingers laced behind our head. Our flesh is well striped from this afternoon. Having spent many days nude in the sun, our bodies are tanned beneath the vivid red stripes. My breasts are swollen and nipples hard. I suck in my stomach and thrust my pussy out as far as I can. This is the pose that Ahmid has demanded. "I will give one of you a full day of rest, complete with hot baths, massage and hair-dresser." Ahmid is speaking to us as he gazes down at us from is throne. Two of his followers flank him. A day without torture! Ahmid is torturing us already with promises that are too good to be true! "Selene! What would you do for such a day?" "Anything, Master," I reply, bowing my head in subjugation. The torches illuminating the throne room cast highlights that reflect from the rings in my nipples. The little bells that Khalid had attached to them have long since disappeared. "And you, Dahlia. What would you do for such an opportunity?" "Anything, Master," Dahlia replies. I steal a glance sideways and see a sparkle in her eyes. She truly believes that Ahmid intends to award a day free from torment. I harbor no such illusions. "Very well! The two of you will fight each other with the winner enjoying the day I have just described. The loser will suffer pain like she has never experienced. You will be prepared for the fight and returned here in one hour." Dahlia and I are led from the throne room. I am in a daze upon hearing Ahmid's decree. I have never fought anyone in my life and I bear no malice toward Dahlia. The prospect of a day free from torture is intriguing but I doubt that Ahmid will fulfill his promise. Still, I must do what I must do. Each of us is taken to separate rooms where other concubines of Ahmid braid our long hair into a single long ponytail. A scented oil is rubbed all over our bodies until we glisten. Rouge is added to my nipples and dark highlights around my eyes. As I am about to be taken back to the throne room, I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror. I am astounded at my body! Months of servility have left me a lean, hard-muscled woman. My breasts are round and firm and the rings hanging from my nipples sparkle as I walk. A resolve comes over me as I reenter the throne room. Dahlia is there already, waiting for me. I can see in her eyes that she also intends to be the victor. I am surprised to find that Ahmid is not alone. There are perhaps 12 or 15 other men there, ostensibly his army generals. Seated on large, plump cushions, they form a semi-circle around the area that Dahlia and I are to wage our battle. Ahmid is in the middle of the group, seated on his throne with a huge dog at his side. As I enter the room, he stands and signals for quiet. "The two sluts will fight each other until one is unable to continue. If I see that either one is not giving it her full effort, she will be strung up and whipped until she is dead. Now, you may begin." As Dahlia and I face each other about ten feet apart, I can see that some of the men are wagering on which one of us will be the winner. I wonder how many have picked me. Suddenly, Dahlia rushes for me. I am surprised by her quickness, particularly after the ordeal the two of us had spent earlier that day. As I attempt to dodge her, I am too slow and she lands a blow across my shoulder that spins me around and knocks me to the floor. Immediately she is on top of me, slapping my breasts and face with all of her strength. Stunned, it takes me several moments before I can react. With all of my strength, I reach up and shove her while rolling to my left. Quickly, I leap to my feet and prepare for her next attack. It is not long in coming. Expecting another onrush, I am staggered when Dahlia brings her leg up and kicks me right in the pussy. I instinctively grasp my injured sex whereupon she levels me again with a blow to my chin. I hit the floor hard and the air leaves my lungs in one huge gasp. I am dazed now, fighting to maintain consciousness. I can feel Dahlia on top of me again, raining blow after blow to my head. I can't move my arms and I'm having trouble seeing out of my left eye. Suddenly a huge explosion deafens me and Dahlia is no longer assaulting me. From a distance I hear more explosions along with shouts and screams. For a moment, I think that Dahlia has won and I am being taken to the punishment room. I roll over on my stomach as the smell of smoke fills my nostrils. I shake my head to clear it and look around the room. One whole side of the room has disappeared and I can see the moon peering down on me. The only one left in the room beside myself is Dahlia who is laying next to me. Blood is running from her ears and nose and she is not breathing. I feel her pulse and there is none. Dahlia is dead. Then I hear more shouts, more explosions and gunfire. It finally dawns on me that there is an uprising occurring against Ahmid and his army. I realize if I stay where I am that it would be an act of lunacy. Despite the fact that I an completely nude, I dash for the opening in the wall and find myself in a deserted city street. Confused and frightened, I begin to make my way along the avenue, unsure as to just where I am going. I only know that I must escape Ahmid's palace where the main fighting seems to be taking place. For thirty minutes or so, I wander through the city. It is completely deserted except that the sound of gunfire seems to be all around me. I try several doors but all of them are locked. The stores have metal gates over the windows, preventing me from obtaining any clothes or food. The only thought I have is to put as much distance between the palace and myself as I can. "What have we here?" I am startled at the sound of a voice and turn to find a man holding an automatic weapon leveled at me. Instinctively, I raise my hands over my head. Obviously this thrusts my breasts out and I remember too late that I am naked. "Hey, Abdullah, look what I've found. One of Ahmid's concubines!" Another man with an automatic weapon appears from around the corner and when he sees me a huge smile crosses his face. "Praise Allah!" he exclaims, as he approaches. I begin to tremble but I keep my hands raised. These two nuts look like they're ready to shoot at the drop of a hat. "Take her!" the one called Abdullah exclaims. The other man grabs me by the arm and pushes me along the sidewalk and around the corner. A half block down, he opens a door into a small building and pushes me inside. Inside there are a dozen or more armed men, seated around a small fireplace. The only light comes from the flickering flames. As I enter, they look up in amazement. "Look what we've found! The prizes of war! Ahmid's concubine!" One of the men seated at the fire stands. From his demeanor I gather that he is in charge of this group of rebels. He approaches me and circles slowly; his dark eyes taking in every inch of my body. "It appears that Ahmid has trained her well. See the welts across her back? She must have been one of his favorites." "Where is Ahmid?" he asks, lifting my chin with his hand. I stare into the darkest eyes I have ever seen. "I don't know." I reply. His hand grips my chin like a vise and my breath is coming in gasps. "Why do you protect him? He is a monster!" "I'm not protecting him. All I know is the palace blew up and I had an opportunity to escape. Your men found me as I was running away. I am an American. Please! Let me go!" "I think you are lying. It is just like Ahmid to send one of his whores out to find where the rebels are located. Abdullah, look outside and see if you were followed." Abdullah disappeared for a moment but quickly returned. "No, Mohammed, there is no one in the streets." "Alright. Take her outside and shoot her!" "Mohammed, please! Can we fuck her before we kill her?" I am shaking with fear now as the man called Mohammed grasps me by my hair, thrusting my head back until my back bows under the strain. I feel his hand between my thighs and, despite my predicament, instantly respond. "The whore is wet with excitement at your suggestion, Abdullah. Very well, use her as you wish but be ready to move out at daylight." Mohammed shoves me away and I fall into the arms of Abdullah. He throws me over his shoulder and carries me into the next room. There is an old iron bed with a worn mattress there and I am thrown on top of it. I watch as Abdullah takes off his clothes. He is sporting a huge erection and a grin as he mounts me, grasping my legs and pushing them up toward my shoulders. I grunt as he rams his cock into me. It feels huge as his stomach slams into the back of my thighs. I am instantly wet and he begins to thrust in and out of me without hesitation. Thoughts of my pending death are forgotten as lust consumes me. It has been weeks since I have been used and my body responds with a hunger that surprises me. I grasp Abdullah around the shoulders and my body rises up to meet his downward thrusts. My response seems to quicken his efforts and he quickly unloads his semen into me with a loud cry. My need is insatiable and I moan as he withdraws only to spread my legs and welcome the next rebel who takes his place. The second man brings me to an explosive orgasm as he, too, shoots his load of semen into my now sopping wet pussy. I am delirious with lust and my body responds to the slightest touch. Hands roll me over on my stomach and I feel my butt cheeks being parted. Then a huge cock is up my ass and another stomach is slamming into my cheeks. I reach down and begin to rub my clit while orgasm after orgasm explodes in my gut. My head is lifted and another cock brushes against my lips. Intoxicated with desire, I open my mouth and take it deep into my throat. I cannot breath but it is unimportant. I live only for the next orgasm, which comes quickly. The cock in my mouth explodes in a flood of semen and I swallow as fast as I can. Some of it drips down my chin as I feel the man in my ass fill me with his sperm. Then I am flipped over once again and another cock plunges into my pussy. I reach out and begin to masturbate a man standing next to the bed. Another cock fills my mouth. Cock after cock fills my pussy. When all have taken me, I lay exhausted on the bed, cum covering my thighs and face, dripping from my pussy and matted in my hair. I hear shouts from a distance but I am too spent to raise my head to see what is happening. The sounds of footsteps running seeps through to my exhausted brain. Wearily, I raise up from the bed to confront a man in uniform standing in the door. "Jesus H. Christ!" he exclaims. The voice has a distinct Southern accent. "Hey, Lieutenant, look in here!" Another man appears in the door, dressed in the same type of uniform. Slowly it dawns on me that they are U.S. military. "Please. . ." I whisper; too tired to even sit up. I fall back on the bed, my eyes closed. "God Almighty! Fred, go get a medic!" -o0o- I am driving down the highway with the top down and the wind blowing through my hair. I am wearing only a T-shirt and a bikini bottom. The sun shines down on me and I am eagerly approaching my destination. It has been three months since the U.S. Marines rescued me from Dahlid. I later learned that they had been sent by the President to quell the revolution that overthrew the dictatorial regime of Sheik Ahmid. Order had been restored and Ahmid was found several days later, hanging by his neck from a tree; his genitals crammed into his mouth. After a brief spell in a California hospital, I was released. I had lost my job as a schoolteacher because of my extended absence. They were willing to allow me to be a substitute teacher but I found myself daydreaming about my experiences and, consequently, my teaching efforts suffered. Finally, I decided that there was only one remedy for my dilemma. The highway is deserted except for me as I drive toward my destiny. A smile crosses my lips when I think about what is awaiting me. Soon I come to a car parked across the highway, two men standing in front of it with weapons in their hands. I pull up to a stop and get out of my car. "Hello, Pedro. How is Joaquin?" The End "My Name is Jane Davenport"
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