Monday, December 2, 2013

Sold Into Slavery: Sperm Repository

Part One Here
Part Three Here

The car bumped along in traffic for a good half hour before the road smoothed. Stephanie lay crunched in the trunk of the limo, wondering where she was being taken. Sounds outside slowly changed from the bustle of the city to quieter roads, as if they were going into the country. There were fewer stops, and the road curved back and forth.

Stephanie struggled against the handcuffs which held her arms behind her, but to no avail. There was no way she was getting out of them. She felt around behind her, but the trunk was clean. No chance of a tool or other device to help her. Her eyes adjusted to the light, but there was so little seeping in through cracks she could still make nothing out.

Turning so her feet faced the back of the car, she kicked the trunk lid several times. Her bare feet slammed into the metal braces of the lid and bruised her flesh. After the third kick she gave up; the metal wasn't budging and her feet were in pain from the sharp edges that she smashed into. Stephanie became painfully aware that she was completely naked, without even the benefit of basic shoes.

Laying quietly for a moment she assessed her situation. She was naked, not a single of item of clothing or jewelry on her, stuffed in a trunk of a car owned by a man she hardly knew. She had inadvertently allowed herself to be sold into slavery in a foreign land, and had no idea where she was being taken. Even if she could escape, where would she go? The Embassy? Where was that, and how could she get there? Her friend and business partner was the only person she knew in the city and he had betrayed her.

Suddenly, despair and fear overwhelmed her and she cried, sobbing in the dark.

The limo turned and drove over a gravel road. She sensed the journey was coming to an end and tried to think what she might do, how she might escape. Wait... wait and see where she was. There really was very little she could do at this point; the country of Malsi accepted women as slaves by virtue of their gender and she would just have to wait, observe, and find an opening.

The car was on concrete again and then glided to a stop. Sounds of doors slamming, people talking. Then quiet. She was left alone, naked and helpless in the back of the car! She screamed, kicked, and as if in response to her brief panic the trunk lid popped and light streamed in.

Stephanie blinked, letting her eyes adjust. While still dazed, strong hands reached in and lifted her out of the trunk, setting her on her feet. One man and one woman stood next to her, steadying her. The woman was clothed; Stephanie suddenly felt terribly alone and vulnerable, standing naked next to two clothed people. She lowered her head, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Follow me, Stephanie. I will show you to your temporary situation. Please cooperate, it will go a lot easier if you do. I say this for your benefit, to help you." The woman sounded kind. Stephanie observed she was a pretty woman of about 30, dressed in jeans and a nice silk top. The only jewelry she wore was a very thin, shiny collar, similar to a choker but made of metal and decorated with a single sapphire pendant. The woman first removed Stephanie's gag and then took her firmly by the arm and guided her stumbling out of what appeared to be a rather large garage.

They went through a door and down a marble tiled hall that felt cold to her bare feet, which in turn reminded her of her nudity and vulnerability. Beautiful artwork decorated the walls, and lighting was subdued and elegant. It was obvious she was entering a beautiful and expensive home that was very large. They paused before a plain wooden door that was unlocked with a heavy key. The dimly lighted interior revealed the top of a flight of stairs descending deep under the house.

At the site of steps descending down, Stephanie panicked and attempted to run. The man that stood behind her simply tripped her and she sprawled on the marble floor, her naked flesh skidding painfully to a stop. She was lifted up by her handcuffed wrists and pushed hard toward the door, where she descended the stairs rapidly. At the bottom was a long corridor with a plain concrete floor, dim raw lighting from uncovered bare light bulbs, and doors spaced along each side. It was a decidedly unfriendly place, nothing like the opulence in the house above.

The first door was opened and a small room inside contained a variety of items, none of which Stephanie had a chance to view. The man kicked behind her knees, knocking her down immediately in front of a cage made for a large dog. She resisted feebly, but in moments Stephanie was locked inside the cage. The man turned and left, but the woman stayed for a moment.

"This is where you will live for a while, until Mr. Jackson decides how you should be assimilated into the household. There are dishes with food and water. Relieve yourself as necessary, the cage will be cleaned once a day." The woman turned to go.

"Wait! Please, listen to me! I am an outsider, this isn't my country and I am not a slave! You are a woman, can't you help me?" Stephanie curled fingers through the wires, pressing her face close, tears streaming down as she begged.

The woman looked at Stephanie with curiosity.

"I understand you are from outside. But you are a woman, and that means you are a slave, no matter where you were born and live. It is the natural order of things. I can't help it if you weren't trained properly where you are from; but you are in Malsi now and you will learn how to live  as women should. Accept what you are. You are a slave. I can not help you because I am a slave myself. Please try to adapt and learn. It will be easier for you."

The woman seemed truly kind and concerned, and reached through the cage wire, removing Stephanie's handcuffs. Other than this, she was completely unwilling or unable to help Stephanie. She turned and left, and Stephanie collapsed, sobbing, inside her cage.

The cage was too small to stand in, and too short to stretch out completely. She could move around in limited ways, but there was no truly comfortable position. She was hungry, and ate some of the mush from the bowl in the cage. Stephanie realized she was utterly alone in the world, and there was nothing she could do. She sipped water as well, and then collapsed and fell asleep.


Stephanie remained in the cage without knowing when it was day or night. Her muscles began cramping and she did exercises to relieve the pain as much as she could. Twice, the woman came in and changed the food and water dish.

With no other options, Stephanie relieved herself in one corner of the cage. It stank of urine and feces and she was grateful when the woman came and changed the paper under the cage, removing the results of Stephanie's bowel movements.

It was incredibly humiliating to be treated as a pet, an animal that had to relieve itself without a toilet and have its cage cleaned. Stephanie felt degraded, and begged for release whenever she could. For a while she tried to get out of the cage, pulling, tearing, even gnawing on the wire and lock, but it didn't help. She was trapped, and had nothing. She was completely at the mercy of her keepers.

Sometime after the second time her cage was cleaned, Mr. Jackson entered the room with another man, an older, balding gentleman with graying hair. Stephanie was silent at first, not knowing what to do or say, but then she began to cry and beg, clawing the cage and asking to be released.

"Please, Mr. Jackson, this is all a mistake. I didn't agree to being sold, it is all Kevin, and a mistake. Please release me and I won't tell anyone what happened. I will simply return home. Please let me go home. I have money, I can give you money when I get home...." She rambled on, saying anything she could.

Mr. Jackson and the other man ignored her as if she was hardly there.

"So, Pete, what do you think?" Jackson said.

"Well as I explained before, she is essentially feral. No training, and worse. Not only does she lack training, she has been trained by the infidels and believes she has rights and abilities we know she does not. So it won't be easy. On the other hand, the rewards of having such a woman in your stable..." The man looked at Stephanie in appreciation. Stephanie suddenly felt very exposed and embarrassed, aware of her nudity and how vulnerable she was. She shrank back in the cage, shivering in the corner like a frightened animal, trying to cover her naked breasts and genitals.

"So what shall we do?"

The man spoke decisively. "It is clear that she needs to be broken. Broken down, all remnants of the outside removed from her mind. Then we can bring her back up, rebuild her, reform and train her. It will take several weeks, I think. Do you wish to begin this process?"

Mr. Jackson sighed. "What choice do I have? She will be worth it, I am sure. I mean, just look at her. She would fit almost anywhere. The pleasure trade, breeding, business, household, even wife."

"Let's begin this morning then," the man said.

The two men left the room, leaving Stephanie with a horrified feeling something very bad was about to happen.


An hour later two women came into the room. One unlocked the cage, the other reached in and helped Stephanie out. She had been cramped inside the small area for so long she couldn't stand all the way and could hardly walk, but the women were kind and helped her. She had no idea where she was going or what would happen, but anything was better than being locked in the cage.  She followed willingly.

They exited the holding room into the hall, and went through another door. Inside was a well lit room with various ropes, ties, and other equipment. Against one wall were two young teen girls, completely naked and tied up in a most humiliating and bizarre position, their legs spread and pulled back behind their heads. Stephanie gaped at them until she was forced down and then shoved onto her ass. The two women that were guiding her now began tying her up in the same position as the two girls that were tied to the wall.

First Stephanie's wrists were tied with rope and pulled up above and to each side of her head. This wasn't painful at all; but then her ankles were tied. The rope from each ankle was threaded through the same rings in the wall to which her wrists were tied. When the ropes were pulled, Stephanie's legs went first up into the air, then back. Further and further they went, spreading wider at the same time. Her hips shifted back and up, moving her pussy up, and then exposing her ass and anus.

Before long Stephanie was sitting on the back of her ass, almost her lower back, with arms and legs tied behind her. With her legs tied up and back, Stephanie's ass and genital area were clearly exposed and available. Struggling didn't help, she could only move a little and the strange position made it painful to even try.

The strain on her back and legs made her whimper. "What are you doing? Why am I here?"

The two women, after assuring that Stephanie was secured, left the room without answering.

Stephanie wriggled in the humiliating position that seemed designed to keep her genitals as exposed as much as possible. She could only move a little. The cramping in the back of her thighs continued, and she began to cry quietly.

The girl next to her turned and asked Stephanie her name.

"Stephanie... who are you?"

"I'm Amy, and this is Jolie. You seem a little old for a breeder. Are you here for punishment?" The girl spoke with curiosity, obviously puzzled by Stephanie.

"I don't know why I am here. I'm from the outside, it's a mistake I am here. What do you mean, breeder? Why are we tied up here?"

"Wow. You are from the outside? You truly know nothing? We are all breeders, at least designated as breeders right now. We are placed here to be available to the men of the household to deposit their seed until we become pregnant or our ovulation is past. When that happens, we are released, and we can rejoin the household until a baby comes." The girl was young, and spoke as if this was the simplest and most natural thing in the world, though it struck Stephanie with disgust and horror.

"You mean... they are going to rape me? Make me pregnant?"

The girl looked puzzled again... "Rape... I think I know what that means, but it doesn't really... well, the word isn't used here. Yes, it is our role to become pregnant. Perhaps later we can be used in another way, but for now, we are for this."

The door opened and a young man stepped into the room. He looked at the women and then at Stephanie before exclaiming, "Aha! I heard there was a new girl here. Well, let's see what we can do!"

Unzipping his pants and exposing a huge cock and distended ball sack, he approached Stephanie. Stephanie tried to struggle, crying and protesting, but to no avail. In her current position she was completely exposed and available for use. The man rubbed the tip of his cock on her pussy lips for a moment and then plunged deep inside her; it hurt because there was no lube but this didn't seem to matter. He thrust into her, over and over, filling her cunt with his thick shaft. Stephanie felt herself reacting, flushing with an undeniable pleasure at being taking in this way, forcefully, by the virile man.

Just as Stephanie felt the warmth of an unwanted orgasm spreading over her body, the man grunted, strained, and his cock pulsed as he spurt semen deep inside her body. He had rammed deep into her so that she felt he would penetrate her bowels. Crying out with the pleasure of orgasm, the man made sure all his seed had been deposited inside of Stephanie, then slid out. He wiped his still hard member with a moist towel placed nearby, then zipped up, smiled at Stephanie, then left.

Stephanie was humiliated at both the experience of being taken in such a helpless way, but more so with how she had felt pleasure from it. She could almost feel the sperm inside of her and struggled to try and tip her hips to push it out, but there was nothing she could do. She was stuck. Her ass was angled upward, which meant the maximum amount of sperm would be trickling deep into her, rather than being pushed out (which she normally did after unprotected sex).

The older balding man entered the room and came over to the helpless woman. "My name is Mr. Hauser, and I am going to be guiding you through your new training, Stephanie. It isn't going to be pleasant, but when you are reconditioned, you will find your life here so much easier and happier."

Mr. Hauser looked at Stephanie's exposed pussy lips, wet and smeared with the remains of semen. "I see someone has already visited you. Well, we are going to add a little something to the experience. Let me begin."

Stephanie stared at him with fear as he took some equipment out of a small bag and hooked it up to her. First, he took a small clamp with screws on either side of small parallel bars. Placing Stephanie's left nipple between these two bars, he screwed first one side and then the other down, bringing the tiny bars closer together, squeezing the nipple painfully. Tears flowed down her cheeks from the aching pain as the horrible man tightened the clamp further, tapping it to make sure it was on tightly and would not come off. When done, Mr. Hauser took another clamp, pulled her right nipple into it and tightened it well. Both of Stephanie's nipples were aching from the extreme clamps and tears continued to wet her cheeks.

The small clamps had a copper coating with wires attached. Mr. Hauser attached the wires to a small black box, and then connected that box via some wires to jacks in the wall behind her. Satisfied with the setup he left Stephanie alone. All three girls waited together in the room.

An hour later, the door to the room opened and a tall skinny man entered. Next to Stephanie, Amy smiled, and said, "Hi, Hank."

Hank smiled and came over to the girl, whipping out his cock and greeting her affectionately. Stephanie watched as his long cock was rubbed against the folds of Amy's cunt, and saw glistening wetness. Amy was already self lubricating for him, and his cock was shiny from the most body fluid. Amy's pussy lips spread to surround Hank's cock as his head entered her slowly.

Amy moaned in delight as he slipped his cock into her pussy. Stephanie, however, began to whimper in pain. The wired nipple clamps had a hot painful feeling, and as Hank slid deep inside Amy, the pain increased, turning into shocking pain that made Stephanie cry out and sob. When Hank finally grunted to a climax and Amy cried out in orgasm, Stephanie screamed; the wired contacts on her nipples snapped out a high voltage shock that made her shake, muscles contracting and spasming from the agony. She strained and thrashed against the ropes that held her.

When Hank had finished ejaculating his semen and slipped out of Amy, the pain in Stephanie's nipple clamps went away. She sobbed a sigh of relief and relaxed, happy the torture was over.

Until 5 minutes later when the next man came in and decided to fuck Jolie's brains out. As soon as he inserted himself into her cunt Stephanie felt the burning shock rising in her nipple clamps. The harder they went at it, his balls slapping Jolie's naked ass, the more painful it became, making her squirm and beg anyone that would listen to her. Jolie was enthusiastic, begging the man to dump his load, crying out. The man just kept pumping and panting, and the shocks kept increasing in poor Stephanie's nipples and chest.  It was clear now what was happening. Whenever someone came to the room and fucked one of the other girls, Stephanie received electric shocks through her nipple clamps.

When the man was finished and left, Stephanie sighed in relief, wishing she could touch her sore and now painfully inflamed nipples. The three women rested, each filled with a man's sperm traveling deeper into their womb.

It must have been nearly six hours before another man came in. He was short and stocky, and older, perhaps 40 or 50.  Amy greeted him, "Hey there, John; Hank was here earlier, but I would love to have you inside me. Get me pregnant and get me out of here, what do you say?"

John looked at Amy, and then at Stephanie, who was shaking with fear, anticipating the painful shocks once again. Dropping his pants he took his huge cock and aimed it at Stephanie's pussy. She waited, closing her eyes, clenching her teeth. John's cock touched her pussy lips, she felt them spread slowly as he began pushing. He went deeper, and deeper. Stephanie was tensed, waiting for the shocks to rip though her sensitive nipples. John was all the way in, and still Stephanie waited.

John began thrusting, moaning and panting. Stephanie almost laughed with relief! There were no shocks! There was no pain! She felt the glow of orgasm flood her as John fucked her hard; and when she was done she felt John thrusting deep and then pushing out a load of cum inside of her. It was the most wonderful feeling! When the man left, she felt so relieved, almost happy.

Stephanie realized she was only being tortured when one of the other women was fucked. As long as she was the one any man selected, there would be no pain. If the man selected one of the other women.... she would receive the agonizing shocks in her nipples and breasts.

The lights went off, indicating night time. The other girls obviously went to sleep, but Stephanie was a problem. Finally, she loudly whispered to Amy, and when Amy finally awoke, she asked, "Amy, I have to pee. What do I do? I can't move."

Amy snorted in disgust. "There is a bucket underneath you. Just pee, for god's sake. Let me sleep."

Stephanie was miserable in the bent, exposed position, but her bladder was about to burst and made it 10 times more painful. Finally she let it go, and the stream shot out and rang against the large metal bucket beneath her. This was even more humiliating than when she had relieved herself in the cage, but the relief of being able to empty her bladder felt so amazingly good. She was able to sleep soon after.

The lights went on automatically, and Stephanie assumed a new day had arrived. An hour or so later, the door opened and an older gentleman entered. Stephanie tensed, and then began to beg.

"Please. Take me, fuck me, not them."

"I am not here to fuck anyone. Jolie, your test came back positive. You are pregnant. Time to head upstairs." The man unstrapped Jolie from her open fucking position.

"Thank god. I've been down here nearly three weeks. About time!" Jolie could hardly walk after being released, but managed to make it out of the room. Stephanie noticed as she left just how thin and young she was. Breeders were obviously started young.

As Jolie left, a dirty man about 45 years old dressed in work clothes entered, and looked at the two women presenting themselves. He seemed to be surveying and deciding. Once again, Stephanie found herself begging.

"Please, sir.... please fuck me. My cunt is tight and sweet. You won't regret it!" Stephanie was trying to make herself sound as sexy as possible, thought it was hard when tied with your legs back above your head.

The worker unzipped, pulled out a huge cock and stepped over to Amy, who smirked at Stephanie with satisfaction. As the man began thrusting and grunting, the shocks surged through Stephanie's nipples, hurting worse than the day before. Her body jerked, muscles tensing involuntarily to the pulsing pain that rippled across her chest as Amy and the work went at it, both moaning and thrusting. Stephanie cried, tears running down the sides of her face, the pain unbearable, and yet... it had to be taken. There was no other way.

And so it went for the next day, as four more men came in. Amy had bigger breasts than Stephanie, but Stephanie was leaner and prettier. Two of the men chose Amy and Stephanie writhed in pain as the fucking went on next to her. Two of the men chose Stephanie, and the relief and pleasure from the fucking, in addition to the absence of pain, brought her to multiple orgasms. She begged each man that entered the room, using everything she could think of to convince them she was the better girl to fuck.  It never once crossed her mind how degraded she had become; she was in survival mode.

At the end of the day Stephanie found her vagina was full to overflowing with white, sticky semen. She looked across and saw how Amy was squeezing her muscles, pushing and slowly getting some of the white fluid out. It dribbled out her slit and across her puckered anus. She tried the same thing, and had some success, though not as much as Amy.

"You need to practice your Kegels," Amy commented, watching as Stephanie slowly pushed tiny bits of creampie out of her snatch.

Three days later, Amy had a pregnancy test that came back positive. Stephanie was on the verge of a nervous breakdown from never knowing when the torture and pain would be inflicted on her again. She desperately wanted out. Her breasts hurt all the time and her nipples were so numb they no longer felt the pain. Her constant begging of the men that entered had gotten on Amy's nerves, and when she left the room, she swore at Stephanie.

Not too long after, Mr. Hauser came in and released Stephanie. She sobbed in gratitude, hanging on to Mr. Hauser for support, as her muscles had cramped and didn't work well after being released. An antiseptic cream was placed on her sore, smashed nipples, and as she stood, old semen from the last several days oozed out and trickled down her inner thighs. She no longer thought about her nakedness or humiliation, just about what might come next and how to cope.

When they were ready to leave for the next phase of her training, Mr. Hauser placed a leather hood over Stephanie's head and guided her away.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Sold Into Slavery: Auctioned

Part Two Here
Part Three Here

Stephanie stepped off the plane and was immediately surrounded by the warm tropical breezes and bright sunlight of Malsi. It was beautiful here, she had been told, but to beware. Malsi was a country that had been long influenced by a rather obscure religion that exalted women, but as possessions to be used as needed by men. As a visitor to the country she wasn't subject to their rather strange laws surrounding gender and the treatment of women, but she had been warned and well versed in how to behave in order to avoid any misunderstandings.

"Stay close, Steph. You have nothing to worry about as long as you are with me, and obey the basic rules." Her companion and sales partner Kevin were in the country to close a very lucrative deal; one that would set them up financially for a long time. It was worth the risk. Kevin had been in the country before, Stephanie had not, but been assured that if she stayed with Kevin and obeyed a few rules, she would do well.  It was worth it.

They were met by an attractive woman wearing a business suit, standing in front of a limo. Kevin introduced them.

"Steph, this is Vicki. She is owned by the Centralia Media Company here and is assigned to assist us. Vicki, this is my partner, Steph. She is owned by the Cinepole Media Company, and is assigned as my sales assistant. Please provide her all respect."

Vicki nodded cheerfully and opened the limo door for them, then entered the car as the driver and they took off.

"I have never met a woman from the outside," Vicki said as they began driving. "Is it true, that you are actually free to do as you please? I mean, you can do anything and don't belong to anyone?"

"Yes, that's true." Stephanie smiled. Vicki seemed nice.

Vicki shook her head, "It just seems strange to me. I don't know how a woman could do that. How do you appraise your value? Whom do you serve? How do you know if you are successful or not? How can you be comfortable without someone to care for you and keep you?"

"I care for myself, and keep myself, that's all." Stephanie felt Kevin's hand squeeze her leg. This was dangerous ground. He had explained that the people of Malsi would respect her status but that she was not to advocate for women's rights while she was here. She shut her mouth and said no more.

The sales meeting went well; the final presentations were given outlining changes in the contracts and benefits. When lunch time came and the business people left to go to a restaurant, Stephanie saw her first, shocking evidence of what was different in this culture. As they walked the block toward the Chinese restaurant, she caught a glimpse of something through the glass of a store front. She turned to look.

There, in the display window for all to see, was a woman. Just a girl, really, barely 20 years old. She was naked, not a bit of clothing on her. She sat on a heavy platform shaped like a pyramid, the point embedded deeply into her pussy. Heavy blocks of concrete were tied with short ropes to her ankles, keeping her legs straight down on either side of the pyramid. Her face showed clear evidence of pain as she sat on the pointed seat of torture, enduring the agony in full view of passers by. While Stephanie could not see behind the girl, it appeared that her wrists were handcuffed or tied behind her back.

"Come on, Stephanie. Don't look, don't get upset, just let's go to the restaurant." Kevin took her arm and guided her away. Stephanie was shaken, visibly.

"What was that? What was happening?" She hissed to Kevin as they walked away from the spectacle of torture.

"She is being punished. That's a Judas Cradle, and it's a common instrument of discipline here. Don't think about it, just concentrate on the sale. Think about the money." Kevin guided her into the modern restaurant where they were greeted and seated by a hostess.

Stephanie didn't eat well. She was shaken and shaking from what she had seen. The poor girl had obviously been in agony, and the image of the sharp point of the Judas Cradle digging into the soft folds of the girl's vaginal opening haunted Stephanie's mind. She maintained while eating, and their hosts were as professional as ever, but she began to see them in a different light. A scary one.

When they returned, they took a slightly different way back to the office. Once back in the conference room their hostess Vicki participated by presenting some of the new products and ventures of Centralia Media. She was slick and professional, the consummate business woman.

When everything was complete and wrapping up, the VP from Centralia, a man named Jackson, stood and thanked everyone and then turned to the visitors from Cinepole, saying "I do hope your time here has been pleasant and I am sincerely happy we are concluding these negotiations to our mutual benefit. This wraps things up from our perspective. Vicki will be available for sex now, if you would like."

Stephanie smiled and was about to make a similar statement of thanks when the last sentence sunk in. Had the executive actually just offered this woman up for sex? She stood still, smile fixed, unsure what to do. Her partner Kevin, however, knew exactly what to do.

Unzipping his pants, Kevin pulled out his rather large erection. Vicki unbuttoned her silk blouse, exposing perfect teardrop shaped breasts, and knelt in front of Kevin, taking his cock into her hands and then sliding it slowly into her mouth. Stephanie watched in shock as the female salesperson from Centralia gave her partner an expert sensual blow job.

Stephanie sat down with a thump, unable to keep her legs under her as she watched the unexpected spectacle. Kevin's cock was larger than she had ever imagined, and she could see Vicki's throat bulging as she expertly deep throated.

Looking around the room, Stephanie suddenly became aware of the men from Centralia looking at her, expectantly. With a shock, she realized that in Malsi, it might be a business tradition to trade sexual favors of the female staff after a meeting like this. She was expected to put out.

Jackson, the VP slid over to her and spoke. "I realize you are not part of this culture, and we do wish to respect your ways. However, as you can see we have offered our woman as service to your company. Would your company return the compliment? You are.... a beautiful woman...."

Stephanie opened her mouth but no sound came out. Mr. Jackson seemed to take this as an invitation and unzipped. A massive cock fell out of his pants. The VP took Stephanie's head and shoved his cock between her lips. He tasted vaguely of biscuits and sweat, a sort of musky taste. His cock was quite hard and distended her lips and jaw, it was so large. Stephanie made to protest, raising her hands and gripping the hips of the tall man before her. This seemed to encourage him further, and his cock rammed home, pushing down her throat until it hit her vocal chords.

She couldn't breathe. She choked, her mouth and tongue wriggling around as she tried to get free, tried to catch a breath, tried to stop from vomiting. The man had her hair and was pressing him deep inside of her, and just when she thought she would faint, he slid most of the way out. She gasped, sucking in air.

He shoved in again. A second pair of hands was undoing Stephanie's top, unhooking her bra. The tall executive continued shoving his cock in and out, deep inside her throat. While it was all she could do to keep from fainting, other hands were continuing to remove her clothes. Soon she was naked from the waist down, her breasts bobbing and wriggling.

When Jackson's cock slid out of her mouth for a moment there seemed to be a lot of slime gushing from her lips, clinging to the hardened member. She had only a moment to think about this before the cock rammed home again. It wasn't semen. It was fluid from her stomach; the choking cock was making her vomit small amounts from her stomach and this accounted for the acidic taste in her mouth and slime that appeared on his cock.

He finally ejaculated in her mouth, deep inside her throat, and she had no choice but to swallow the semen. When he finally withdrew, she collapsed back, gasping for air. Kevin was on the conference table only a couple of feet away, where he was on top of the lovely Vicki, his cock buried deep inside her pussy, pumping away. Vicki was naked, her perfect body wrapped around the Cinepole sales executive, urging him on.

Strong hands pulled the last bits of clothing from Stephanie's body. "Please, please--" she began to protest.

"I am so glad you are willing to adapt to our ways. You are a most beautiful woman," interrupted the Centralia sales executive who moved in, replacing the VP (who was zipping up with a satisfied look on his face).  The man dropped his pants; the last bit of clothing on Stephanie was her panties. He pushed them to the side, exposing the soft wet folds of her pussy, and pressed his exposed cock against her. Seconds later, he had mounted her and was pumping deep inside.

Stephanie tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling, feeling the man fucking her hard, and enjoying it. The feeling surprised her; being taken like this was hardly something that had ever happened before, but now it was happening she was moaning and grunting along with the salesman as they fucked each other. She was leaning back in the conference room chair, hips thrust out to the edge of the seat, legs thrown over the arms. She wrapped both arms around her unexpected sex partner as her orgasm built and began to spread over her hips.

Just as her cries subsided, the man on top of her grunted, thrust, and ejaculated semen deep inside of her body. Stephanie collapsed in exhaustion as the man withdrew, feeling the fading warmth of sexual ecstasy. A small bit of semen tricked from between her open legs and pooled on the leather conference room chair as Kevin moaned and grunted to an orgasm on top of Vicki.

When it was over, the men pulled their pants up, tucked in shirts, and generally made themselves presentable once again. Vicki rose from the table and slid on her panties, wiping Kevin's semen from her pussy with a Kleenex  Stephanie dressed herself slowly, wondering what had just happened and not understanding whether she should be shocked, angry, or satisfied.


Stephanie and Kevin were spending the night at a high end hotel downtown. The day's adventures had made Stephanie's head spin; she sat in the hotel restaurant and quizzed Kevin more about the culture in the city and country. She was afraid, but fascinated. She had been used like a whore earlier that day, and it had both excited and repulsed her. A need to explore these feelings welled up inside of her, pushing her to ask more.

Kevin argued against Stephanie's request to visit to the heart of the Malsi capital's unique culture of domination over women. "It's dangerous for a woman. It's the slave market, the place where women are bought and sold. Regulations are pretty tight there, and they won't be as forgiving as in the corporations that do business with the outside. It isn't safe."

"I don't care. You can take care of me, and I can follow the guidelines. I want to see," argued Stephanie. Finally, they agreed. Given certain rules, Stephanie would accompany Kevin to the market, see what the true nature of the Malsi culture entailed, and return to the hotel late that night. They had a flight out of the country at 10 AM the next day.

A taxi took the pair to a large complex of buildings just outside the city center. It was 8 PM, but very busy. Stephanie noticed that while the men in this area were dressed normally, the women were generally in some state of semi-nudity, and typically wore light chains, collars, or other symbolic instruments of restraint or ownership.

When they exited the taxi, Kevin turned to Stephanie and helped her remove her top as they had agreed before. When she was naked from the waist up, he fastened a light steel collar on her, and fastened a leash to it. This act had the most fascinating impact on Stephanie. Rather than feeling angry or upset that she was being displayed as a possession, she felt excited and aroused.

Stepping back to view his sales partner Kevin saw her as a tall, lean woman, naked from the waist up, with beautiful flowing hair accentuating an amazingly beautiful face. Her breasts were not large, but firm and perfectly shaped. She appeared younger than her age, and the steel collar seemed very natural on her.

Kevin led Stephanie through large glass doors into a large building. A very large marble paved lobby, much like a convention center, was full of people milling around, chatting, reading documents, and moving between different large doors opening to various venues. Most of the people were men, though there were some women. The women were of all ages, and while most wore some sort of clothing, none were completely clothed. A few were naked except for harnesses and light slippers.

Above doors were signs identifying the activity that took place in each room. Kevin guided Stephanie down a wide hallway and she read the signs above each set of large double doors.

"12 - 18"
"Mothers, caretakers"
"Direct, Offshore"
.... and so on.

Stephanie didn't understand what all these signs meant, but could gather some of the meaning. She wondered where she would best fit if she were to be brought here for exchange or sale.

Kevin led Stephanie by her leash to a set of doors labeled "Miscellaneous Auction". A smaller poster to the side of the door contained a list of items. They stopped and read the inventory. It was a list of women that were being sold or exchanged under many different terms, and codes described items such as strength, age, race, literacy levels, special skills, and the like. Some were lots of women being sold together.

They entered the room and Stephanie was immediately overwhelmed.

The high-ceiling room was filled with several hundred men. The few women in attendance were on leashes like herself, and most were either topless or mostly naked. Subdued lighting over the main floor was overwhelmed by the bright lights shining on a stage to the right. There, elevated about three feet off the main floor was a flat display area, lit with floodlights, and empty except for a man with a microphone and a tall, thin, naked woman with her wrists bound behind her back, a chain going from a collar around her neck to a ring in the floor of the stage. She stood with her head bowed slightly, not looking at the audience.

The man on stage was using the patter of an auctioneer, asking for and receiving bids from men. The woman was beautiful and muscular. Stephanie could not help but admire her fitness, and the men bidding seemed to agree with her. Bidding was hot and heavy as the price rose quickly, then began to level out. As bidding slow
ed, and then stopped, Stephanie observed the buyer standing a few feet away, a short, mean looking man that was holding the leashes of two other naked women.

Bidding completed, and the man stepped forward, taking possession of the woman. She was unlocked from the ring in the floor and the leash was taken by the mean man who left the room with a smirk of satisfaction with his new purchases dragged along behind.

Stephanie felt a rush of mixed emotions. She was horrified that she had just seen a woman sold and dragged off. The process had treated her no differently than a car or animal, just an object. Stephanie wondered what it must be like to be sold and owned by a man. Strangely, this idea stuck with her as a set of three women chained together were led onto the stage. These women were being sold together. They huddled together, afraid of what lay before but completely unquestioning that they had no choice in whatever it might be.

"Kevin, I want to know what it's like." Stephanie whispered to her partner as they watched.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I want to know what it's like to be paraded up there and sold like an animal. I want to experience it, and maybe write about it when I get back."

Kevin looked at her in disbelief. "You mean being leashed and guided around half naked isn't enough? Well, it doesn't really matter, you aren't a slave and aren't going to be sold."

Stephanie bit her lip. "Yeah... but.... couldn't you submit me to be sold, then bid on me, and make sure you win the bid? Then you pay yourself, take ownership of me and that's that, right?"

Kevin rolled his eyes. "You are an idiot. What do you want to do that for? Besides, there are fees, I wouldn't get all my money back."

"I would pay you back. When we got home. For sure."

"You are insane, you know that? Seriously insane." Kevin was looking at her now.  Stephanie began to wonder about her own sanity. Yet, she had never wanted anything more. The desire to experience the complete submission of the slave, the humiliation, exposure, obedience, and objectification was so strong she could almost taste it. In fact, it was arousing her, sexually, a sensation that surprised and shocked her.

Kevin finally agreed to do it, after some argument. Stephanie took a deep breath, wondered just what had come over her, and followed him as they moved to the side window where potential sales were registered. She felt like she was in a dream, her world turning upside down. She was about to be sold as a slave, a piece of property, and while she fully expected to be released when Kevin purchased her, she was shaking with nervous anticipation and anxiety.


It took Kevin a half hour to do the paperwork, during which Stephanie stood behind him quietly, observing the people around her. None of the women in the room appeared the least bit upset by what was going on; they simply accepted it. Some seemed to be sad or anxious after they were sold, but there were no scenes. The men seemed very business-like, conducting financial transactions in the same way that brokers on a stock exchange might behave.

Once the paperwork was done, things changed for Stephanie, suddenly and completely. A facility guard took her by the arm and guided her through a small door in the back of the large room where the auctions were continuing. Just inside the room was a window where the guard pushed her paperwork through to a bored woman who reviewed the documents, entered some data into a computer, and then printed out a tag. The tag as attached quickly to the shiny metal ring that was already in place around Stephanie's neck.

Without speaking to her, the guard guided her down a short hallway to a small room filled with other women. Every other woman in the room was naked. Stephanie was already naked from the waist up. The guard took large shears and began cutting her skirt off her hips. The skirt was one of Stephanie's favorites and she began to protest.

"Hey, don't ruin the skirt. I will take it off, just ask," Stephanie said in an annoyed voice.

The guard stood back for a moment looking at Stephanie with shock. The other women in the room looked at her with wonder, as well. Stephanie fell silent, and then mumbled, "I just thought..."

The guard moved to the side of the room and returned with a small harness. This was slipped over Stephanie's head, and a large round rubber ball pressed into her mouth. Her vision was somewhat obscured by leather straps that came over the top of her head and split to descend on either side of her nose, in front of her eyes. The straps were pulled tight, pressing the ball gag deep into her mouth and then buckled behind her head.

Stephanie got the idea. She wasn't supposed to speak. Silent obedience was expected.

The rest of her clothes were removed and Stephanie stood naked with a head harness, ball gag, and leash attached to her tagged metal collar. The guard took the leash and lifted the end up, fastening the other end to a long metal bar that circled the room. Stephanie noticed that the rest of the women were also fastened to this bar. They could slide along the edges of the room, but only if all the women moved together.

The leashes were not long enough to allow the women to sit down and so they stood, waiting.

A door opened on the far side of the room and a guard came in; paperwork was checked and the woman at the front of the line of women tethered to the metal bar was unhooked and led out. The line of women stepped forward and then stood mostly silent. It was hot, and Stephanie began to sweat. The women were crowded into a relatively small space and their bodies touched frequently. This aroused Stephanie, a new experience for her. She had never been pressed against other naked women like this.

One by one the women were taken out of the room, the remaining women stepping forward in line, sliding their leashes along the metal bar, inching closer to the end of the line. A few women were brought in and added to the end of the line, but not as many as were leaving, so the line was shrinking. Stephanie was the only woman in the room that was wearing a gag and it humiliated her. It also stimulated the saliva flow and the size of the ball gag kept her from swallowing. She felt herself drooling, adding to her embarrassment.

At last the tall brunette in front of Stephanie was unlocked from the metal bar and taken from the room. Stephanie was at the front of the line and was next. She was shaking; being naked, paraded in front of men, examined and sold was humiliating beyond belief. She wished she had not begged to go through this experience. Feeling faint, she rocked back and forth on her feet, wishing she could sit. Suddenly she felt arms around her, lifting her up, and the choking sensation of her collar pulling on her neck. She had fainted, and the girl behind her was trying to help her stand.

Regaining her feet, Stephanie turned and looked at the woman. Her eyes were kind and worried. Stephanie tried to thank her through the gag but all that came out was an indistinguishable grunt.

"Be strong. It will only last a short time and then you will be safe with an owner." The girl whispered to her.

"Mppffphff phhmm," Stephanie replied.

After a few more minutes the door opened. A guard handler entered, unhooked Stephanie's leash from the bar and guided her out of the room. They went down a very short hall and then entered the same large room she had been in before, except from a door behind that large elevated stage area. Stephanie was shaking.

As Stephanie climbed the steps she could feel all eyes turned towards her. Bright lights shown down, making it hard to see into the relative darkness of the rest of the hall. She felt suddenly aware of her nakedness. Eyes examined every part of her as she was led out to the center of the stage; the perfect form of her breasts, the erectness of her nipples, the curve of her neck to her shoulders, the slimness of her waist leading to the flair of her hips and the dark patch of her pussy between her legs.

The auctioneer was speaking as she was led back and forth across the stage, showing herself to the audience.

".... her name is Stephanie and she is that very, very rare commodity here in Malsi, an outsider. Come to us via a special arrangement, Stephanie is 27 years old, educated with a Master's degree in Communications. She has experience with inside sales activities, can read and write at level 10. Gagged, as you can see, because she has not yet been trained, and may need some discipline. This may be viewed as a positive to some of you, I know."

Here the auctioneer stopped for a moment and looked at Stephanie, who was now standing next to him.

"Certified clean and healthy, Stephanie also has all the attributes one might wish for sexual favors, either privately or publicly offered. A solid, perky B cup, slim and muscular build, I am assured she is capable of satisfying both men and women."

Where did they get that information... thought Stephanie as she stood waiting, feeling as vulnerable as she had ever felt in her life. She was bisexual, but no one here knew that, not even Kevin. Or did he...

The chain from her neck leash was fastened to the ring on the floor and the bidding began. She had tried to cover herself with her hands at first, but felt embarrassed at how useless it was and simply let her arms fall to her sides. She blinked back tears.

"Starting the bidding at $50,000, who will open, yes, you sir, number 21. Do I hear $55,000?"

Stephanie was shocked. Bids for other women she had observed earlier had started at $5,000 or $10,000. She didn't know whether to be surprised, angered, or pleased. The bidding continued, the amount rising quickly.

"$250K, I have from number 97; do I have 275? 275 anyone? Yes, number 21, the bid is now 275 who will bid $300,000?"

Stephanie was flushing, the flesh of her face turning red which in turn spread across her neck and chest. Being bid for was scary, but the amount! Being sold like this made her incredibly aroused, and she wondered if the wetness of her pussy lips could be seen from the audience. The collar around her neck was chaffing slightly, and she was drooling uncontrollably from her gag. Saliva dribbled down her chin and onto her chest between her bare breasts.

The bidding kept going, and finally slowed when it reached $450,000. The auctioneer tried to get it higher, and was just closing the bid for $450K when number 97 made a bid for $500K.  She heard the audience talking excitedly.

"We have 500. $500,000 for the lovely educated and sexually versatile outside slave, do we have any higher? No? To you sir? Fair warning.... going once. Twice..... Sold, to number 97. $500,000."

It was done, and there was applause in the room. Stephanie had been sold for a half million dollars. She was about to faint again, but felt such relief when her leash was unfastened from the floor ring and she was led off stage. She would be reunited with Kevin. She already knew that she would be able to write this experience up and publish for a huge sum when she returned. She wondered if there were any pictures taken she might be able to get a hold of.

Descending the steps to the main floor, her eyes slowly began adjusting to the dimmer lighting. The guard handler was having someone sign some papers on a clipboard. The man was tall, taller than Kevin...

Her leash and the keys to the lock that held the leash to the collar were being handed to this man. It wasn't Kevin. It was Mr. Jackson, the VP from Centralia Media Company. He was wearing a tag on his coat, on which black numbers stated "97".

Stephanie panicked. She had been bought by the wrong person. Kevin agreed to pay for her, to buy her, and this wasn't supposed to happen. She began to protest through her gag, "Mpopppph mhhppffff. mphhspphhsphhhh!!!"

Her hands were unexpectedly pulled behind her before she realized what was happening, and handcuffs secured her wrists behind her back.

"She won't be happy about this, Mr. Jackson, though I know you are well equipped to handle it." Kevin's voice came from behind her. She spun around to see her former partner standing next to her, handing the handcuff keys to Mr. Jackson. She glared at him with amazement, surprise and horror, slowly turning to hatred and anger.

"I'm sorry Steph. I really am. But I couldn't have bought you for that amount of money, I didn't have it and couldn't bid without it. Besides," here a small smile crept across his face, "Who could turn down half a million?"

After the purchase and transaction paperwork was done, Mr. Jackson handed Kevin a certified check. "Just as discussed earlier. This will provide a strong foundation between our companies and I hope we will be profitable partners for some years to come. And of course, once she is trained you may wish to visit her again."

Stephanie slowly realized she had been duped. This had been part of a plan for some time, she didn't know how long, to seal the deal between Kevin and Mr. Jackson. She had been used as a pawn, an unspoken part of the sales agreement between the two companies. She was now stuck in Malsi, owned by this man, a slave in every sense of the word. She lunged at Kevin, though what good it would do she had no idea, with her mouth gagged and her wrists cuffed behind her, but she wasn't thinking.

Before she could reach Kevin, her left side lit up in a fiery pain worse than she had ever experienced. She jerked, her whole body convulsing and turning to avoid whatever had struck her. Legs failing her, she dropped to the floor. The pain stopped immediately, though there were echoing after effects rippling through her bare flesh. She looked up and saw that Mr. Jackson held a small stick with a tiny forked end. A cattle prod or other stunning device, she realized.

Kevin and Mr. Jackson shook hands, and Kevin left as Stephanie recovered and finally stood back up. The last she saw of him he was exiting through the double doors of the room, looking at the check in his hands, grinning.

"Please, my dear," Jackson said. "Don't do anything rash. You must realize you are now in a country that considers you owned property. There is literally nothing I can not do to you; and there is literally nowhere to run. I will make your training as easy as possible, but how easy it is will depend on you. Now, let's start by going outside to my limo."

Stephanie limped after her new owner, head hung in shame and horror, naked and with no possessions in the world, led forward by nothing but the tug on the leash that was locked to a permanently affixed slave collar around her neck.

They reached the curb where the limo was waiting and the driver (a young woman dressed all in black) opened the door for them. Stephanie was being herded toward the car and panic suddenly struck her. She turned and ran as fast and hard as she could.

Unfortunately, Stephanie's leash stopped her flight at about four feet. Her neck jerked back hard, knocking her off balance. Her body hit the concrete sidewalk hard, knocking the air out of her with an "Mpppphhhh." She lay there recovering until Mr. Jackson and the driver reached down and picked her up. She struggled weakly, but there was no problem lifting her and placing her into the trunk of the limo. The trunk lid slammed shut and she lay in the dark as the limo began moving.

Stephanie lay in the back of the car, wondering where she was being taken and what would happen to her.

Monday, July 15, 2013

Suicide Club: Meg

This month the meeting was in an abandoned warehouse downtown.

Meg parked a few blocks away as the group had agreed, so as not to have a large number of cars draw attention to the gathering. Her feet stepped over the cracked and broken sidewalks of the run down neighborhood. She looked down to keep from tripping, but then looked up and scanned the area, alert to male predators. It was a habit she had acquired early in life.

You see, Meg was beautiful, with long dark hair and a cute, young looking freckled face. She was athletically built and though she wore a rather elaborate dress which was out of place in this industrial neighborhood, her figure was still obvious and attractive. No matter what she did to cover up she attracted attention and had to be aware of her surroundings.

Life had stopped being meaningful to Meg more than a year ago. She had run afoul of an unscrupulous boss who had physically used and abused her, then fired her when she finally fought back. Her lesbian relationship of two years had crumbled soon after, and her family wouldn't accept her, rejecting her chosen lifestyle. Jobless and abandoned, she had run out of money and friends, living a more and more sparse and empty life.

Looks were the only thing that she had going for her, and that only got her money.  The wrong way. Parlaying her looks into money was easy, though she had been beaten twice and started experimenting with drugs as a way to cope with some of the disgusting things she had to do for the money. Meaning and hope had slipped away gradually.

She joined the Suicide Club two months before. It made sense to her. She wasn't really living anyway, but had never been able to take the logical step. This way it was out of her hands, just as she had lost control of her life. The Club would take care of the details, the Club was a place with like minded people, the Club was almost a family to her. Last month she had seen Kim die, drowned in the ocean.

Afterward, she had felt alive for the first time. Faced with the death of another club member, the contrast became clear. It wasn't that she changed her mind about living, but what life there was seemed a little more bearable; and it was clear it would have an end, soon. Before the boat returned to shore, she had actually hooked up with Marta, one of the other girls in the club, and had better sex than she had experienced in ages. Marta was a beautiful young girl of 21, dark hair and eyes, with a loving, gentle manner. The memory had stayed with Meg during the intervening weeks.

The rickety wooden door with peeling paint sounded hollow when she knocked. It opened almost immediately and her steps echoed when she entered the cavernous interior. Parker stood by the door, and pointed to a stairway to the side. "Down the steps and to the left. Almost everyone is here. We have champagne today."

Meg felt a stabbing pang in her stomach. Champagne. To celebrate the passing of one of their group; to celebrate another month of life to those that remained. Fitting. She hoped it would be her turn today. Life was more livable now, but only because she was looking forward to the final end that the Club promised.

They were a motley cluster of people. In the basement of the building they gathered in two or three groups, talking of their lives and club business, comparing how each was doing, talking of their own despair and hopes. She joined the group with Marta, squeezed her hand and began listening to the conversation. The air was slightly nervous, but surprisingly upbeat. It felt good to stand with Marta, comforting in a way. All the club members were there by choice. They all accepted the consequences and committed themselves. Each had his or her own reasons for their membership, but they were all tied with a common bond.

With the arrival of two additional members, there were ready to begin. Gathering in a large circle, Parker spoke briefly of the rules. The group would draw lots in series, each series eliminating half the group until the last two. When the last candidates cast their lots, their hands would be bound to prevent any last minute attempts to escape if someone lost their nerve. Once the first lots were cast, all members were bound by the random decisions and final selections. No backing out.

"Is it possible to volunteer?" A young man named Jacob stepped forward.

"No. This is something we have discussed, but in volunteering, you rob the others in the group of their equal chance at being selected." Parker was firm in his explanation. Jacob stepped back with the others, head bowed.

For the first round of selection, there was a stack of envelopes on a side table.  Each of the members took one envelope and opened it. Half the members had a paper with a black dot in the middle. The others had a clean white piece of paper. Those with a white paper stepped back, and the half with dots stepped forward, having advanced to the next round. Meg had a black dot. It meant little, it was an 8% chance of dying that day. Marta continued to stand next to her, having received a black dot as well.

Parker provided a deck of cards and handed them to Jacob to shuffle. Meg performed a second shuffle, and the deck was handed back to Parker, who fanned the cards out. Each of the remaining 13 members took one card. Meg joined the other in turning cards over and showing them to the others. Her card --- the ten of spades. She was one of the six to advance. A 15% chance of dying today. She felt her stomach flutter, as a murmur ran through the group.

One of the other girls in the group of six had started crying. Meg wasn't crying. This was what she wanted, desired, yearned for. She had dressed up for it. Advancing this far gave her hope, excitement that was almost sexual in nature. She looked over at the bottles of champagne on the side table and wondered if she would taste it today, or if she would be the one. She felt glad that Marta was next to her during the process.

Six dice. Each of the remaining members cast.  They were hard to see in the dim light shining through the dirty windows high up the walls. Gathering around the dice with the others, Meg was suddenly aware of how alive each of them was. Fast, labored breathing could be heard. She felt the warmth of Marta next to her and Jacob on the other side. The movements, the rustling of clothes, all signs of the living. Soon to be discarded by one of their number.

Three left: Marta, Meg, and another guy that Meg didn't know well. Meg caught her breath, tears coming to her eyes. She felt the life in her body, blood coursing through the arteries, air filling her lungs, muscles functioning. Was this what she wanted? To terminate this? To become a dead body? A 33% chance remained. It was still probable that either Marta or this other guy would be chosen over her. She found herself wishing it was the guy. She liked Marta, in fact in a different universe she might have loved Marta.

Marta was shaking. Meg held her hand in support, and discovered she was shaking herself. The memory of their love making session the previous month suddenly poured over her, and she discovered she no longer wished to die. She wanted Marta to live with her. She wanted the guy to die, the nameless skinny pale male that already looked dead that stood next to her. Thinking rapidly, she tried to work out how she could influence the final decision. There was no way. She could volunteer, but even if that worked, it would mean she would be gone and still unable to be with Marta.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. Marta wrapped her arms around Meg, sharing warmth and life, but they were forcibly removed as some of the men in the group tied Marta's wrists behind her back. The sudden indignity of this process made Meg flush as her own wrists were forced behind her and tied securely, bringing back memories of some of the things she had done for money in the past few months. There was no turning back now. The three of them were bound, restrained, and ready for the final gamble. The room was hushed.

The final selection was to be done by roulette. Highest value would be selected. No way to influence or interfere with the outcome. Parker spun the wheel, and cast the ball. This spin was for Meg. The ball spun around, endlessly, moving opposite the spinning numbers, seemingly forever. Meg was holding her breath. The ball descended and bounced, back and forth, up and down, finally landing.

The number: 17.

The next spin was for the guy. The numbers whirled, the ball fell and bounced. The ball settled into place.

The number: 10.

It took a moment for Meg to understand what was happening. Someone was cutting the plastic ties that held her wrists... why? The selection wasn't over.... but then she realized. The pale guy had a higher number. Only one would die that day. It was to be either Marta, or the boy that was now shaking as if he might collapse at any moment. Meg couldn't believe what had happened.

The while spun again, this time for Marta. Meg was crying. She would either see this useless lump of male flesh exit the world, in which case life might be complete and there might be some future for her, or she would see Marta die, and her life would collapse once again.

There was the smell of urine and Meg saw the guy's pants slowly darken. She stood close to Marta as the ball spun about, then descended and bounced about. Two, three bounced, and then the ball settled.

The number: 22.

It was Marta's turn. There was a thump as the guy fainted, hitting the concrete floor. Meg reached out and circled her arms around Marta, pulling her body close to kiss her, to communicate their life one last time, to share something with each other. Marta kissed back, passionate and yet gentle.

Two members of the club had to pull the two apart. Meg was crying, but Marta was not. Sadly, Marta looked at Meg and said, "It's OK Meg. Neither of us really wants to stay here, not really. This is just another nail in both our coffins. Perhaps we will meet on the other side."

Three male members of the group wasted no time moving Marta over to the other end of the large empty room where a single chair was placed under a noose which hung from a rusty pipe above.

"A favor. May I die with my hands untied?" Marta asked quietly.

This was very unusual; once committed to the ceremony of choice, no turning back was allowed. The men of the group lifted Marta and stood her on the chair. Parker intervened at the last moment, cutting the plastic ties from Marta's wrists.

"Let me do it," she said.

With her free hands, she reached up and drew the noose to her neck, sliding it tight with the knot behind her left ear. The group backed away from the girl as she stood on the chair for a moment. Then, with a sudden motion, Marta kicked the chair away. It tipped over and clattered on the concrete floor a few feet away.

There wasn't much of a drop in the rope. Meg watched it suddenly tighten around Marta's neck, the neck she had kissed and nuzzled the month before. Small wrinkles and creases formed where the rope squeezed the flesh tighter, creating compressed folds. The descent, barely a foot, jerked Marta's head to the side violently, but not enough to break her neck. As a result, her legs kicked instinctively.

Meg cried out, horrified by the spectacle before her. When Kim had died last month, she had simply been tipped over the back of the boat into the water. Meg was actually watching Marta die before her eyes. Marta's tongue had been forced out of her mouth suddenly by the pressure of the noose on her throat, and her eyes were wide open and staring. Her legs kicked, and her hands rose to her neck, clawing at the ligature that strangled her.

Other than the swishing of Marta's dress as she kicked there was barely any noise. The noose had drawn so tightly that no air could come or go through Marta's neck, so there were no cries, not even a gurgle. Just the horrified, agonized fixed look as the flesh of her face turned purple and her eyes became red.

The rope creaked as Marta's struggles made her body swing back and forth. Her hips writhed, and the palpitations of her stomach could be seen through the cloth of her dress. A faint gurgle finally escaped from her lips as the girl lost strength and her arms fell to her sides. Meg realized she was being held back by two of the club members or she would have gone to Marta, though for what purpose she wasn't sure.

It took about two minutes for Marta's body to stop twitching and for the swinging motion to stop. Meg stared at the girl's face, eyes fixed in front of her, unseeing. She remembered their nakedness together, the warmth of Marta's body, her gentleness and the orgasms they had shared and delighted in giving each other. The lifeless body that swung before her wasn't what she had made love to a month ago; that was gone. She turned and felt suddenly angry.

The champagne was opened with pops and flowed. It wasn't exactly a party, but there was a celebration of sorts as Marta's body hung motionless in the background. Every club member understood that next month, or the month after that, it could be them, and they had no problem celebrating the life and death of one of their own.

Meg drank an entire bottle of champagne. Her anger turned into depression and guilt. She found herself sitting with Jacob, and then kissing Jacob lustfully. She wanted to punish herself, to demean and destroy herself for what had happened, for the loss she felt. Sex with a man seemed about as demeaning and disgusting as she could imagine, and in their drunkenness Jacob and Meg found themselves naked, Jacob on top, Meg's legs wrapped around his hips as he thrust hard into her, pounding as if she was being beaten with a hammer.

She orgasmed that night, a shuddering, massive warm shimmer of pleasure. It was the first time she had come with a man in years, and she rolled over and vomited immediately afterward. Her self destructive need unsatisfied, Meg stroked and enticed Jacob back for a second fucking, this time from behind, and she imagined herself as a dog, a bitch, being taken by another animal.

During the next month Meg made more money with male strangers than ever. Referrals came in as wealthy johns passed the word-- this was a wild woman, up for anything. Discounts were given, volume was everything, the more disgusting the activity, the better.

Before the next meeting of the Suicide Club, police found Meg's body in a dumpster. She had been raped with a number of objects, stabbed, and then dumped.

Not everyone in the Suicide Club had to wait until the next meeting.

Sunday, March 24, 2013


Nazur walked down the concrete corridor of the basement, past heavy metal doors spaced a few feet apart. There was little noise from this part of the prison except for muffled moans coming from behind one of the doors as he passed. Most of the screaming took place in the room at the end of the hall, the one where he was headed now.

Unlocking the massive, rusty door, he stepped into the largest room of the basement of the prison. Harsh light from bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling lit the scene.

In the center of the room hung a naked woman, about 23 years old. She was upside down, legs bent and tied back on themselves across a strap running beneath her folded knees. Her arms were tied tightly behind her back, making her breasts protrude slightly. She was lean and muscular, in remarkable shape and none the worse for being arrested and thrown into prison the night before.

Nazur shut the door behind him and ignored the girl for a moment as he settle his things on a side table. He was leisurely, as if he had plenty of time. He selected a syringe from a cupboard and took a small bottle of liquid from a drawer, pulling the plunger back and filling it with a few cc's of clear liquid. Kicking a rolling stool over toward the prisoner, he sat and presented himself to the prisoner's inverted face.

"My name is Nazur. I am here to receive your confession and any information you have that you may wish to share, concerning your spy operations and other spies you work with. No, no... don't talk," Nazur placed a finger over the girl's lips when she began to speak. "It is too early. I know you have nothing to say now. But later, you will, and I will be here."

He showed the girl the syringe. "Do you know what this is?"

Her large eyes looked but she said nothing.

"It's OK. I will be explaining things to you as we go along. This is a special mix of drugs I concocted myself. Various stimulants, mostly. It keeps detainees awake, and makes the discomfort more... intrusive. Honestly, it speeds things along, so you should be grateful for it." He placed the thick needle against the stretched neck of the girl and shoved it into the muscle.

"Ahhh!GGHG!!" The girl let out a gurgling scream as the needle pushed into her neck and the liquid was injected.

"Yes... it hurts. I know. It takes effect almost immediately when injected. Let's begin."

Nazure put the empty syringe away and picked up some items from a side table. He approached the girl and gently explained as he worked. "These are nipple clamps. Nipples are so sensitive, don't you think? They hurt going on, and these are jagged, with stiff springs. The will dig deep into the sensitive flesh..."

The clamps squeezed and penetrated the flesh of the left nipple and the girl yelped. The center of the clamp had a sharp but sturdy point that penetrated all the way through as Nazure squeezed the clamp shut. The point exited the other side of the nipple and latched in place, holding the clamp securely.

"Yes, it hurts. I know. These clamps are just the beginning, you see. Later we will add other devices to your flesh, to cause pain. Yes..." The second clamp pierced and the right nipple and the girl winced, holding her cries inside. She merely grunted.

"Good girl. Save your cries for later, when it really begins to hurt." Nazure attached a chain to the two clamps, and then began hanging weights from the chain. As more weights were added, the girls breasts stretched down toward her face, farther and father. She scrunched her eyes shut as the pain increased, and tears trickled down her forehead.

Nazur stepped back and admired the young body stretched before him. She was a beautiful woman, placed in the government so that she could seduce selected government officials and extract information from them. She had been caught while trying to seduce the wrong person.

"Now, shall we start with your name. Not the name you are known by here, but your real name. What is your name?"

The girl was silent, swaying back and forth gently. Nazure placed two more weights on the chain, making the girls breasts stretch down in a most obscene manner. She moaned a little but said nothing.

Nazur ran his hands over the naked body. The prisoner was helpless, and feeling extremely vulnerable. He was enjoying her suffering, and his enjoyment would eventually make her talk, spilling all she knew. He hoped she wouldn't break too fast.

His rough hands found their way to her exposed genitals. Her legs were spread apart by the suspension strap. He felt the soft flesh and pushed one finger inside of her. She jerked when she felt him enter. He plunged another finger deep into her anus, and pressed them together, feeling them come close to touching, separated only by the thin walls of tissue.

"I hate to destroy the body of such a young woman. Can't you simply be polite and tell me your name?"

"E.... Eliza..." panted the woman.

"Ah. Eliza. Yes. Good girl. You see, I already knew that. Some of the questions I ask I will already know the answers too, so when you lie to me I will know. And I will hurt you. Answer me clearly and truthfully, and this will be over soon."

Nazur took a round metal ring and forced it into the girl's mouth. It lodged behind her perfect white teeth, holding her jaw open wide. He strapped it securely in place behind her head. After a moment the girl began to whimper-- her jaw was cramping. The drugs injected earlier had a tendency to encourage muscle cramps, and this was the first signs they were taking effect.

Eliza's tongue wagged in her wide open mouth and drool began to trickle over her face. She tried to talk, but couldn't. Nazur wasn't interested in talk at the moment, anyway. He unzipped his heavy camouflage pants and produced his hardened member. Standing in front of the girl, he rubbed the tip over her face, feeling the soft flesh of her lips, cheeks, the firmness of her nose, and wetness of her eyes.

When he was ready, he shoved deep inside her mouth, his cock sliding easily over her tongue and back into her throat. She wasn't ready for the suddenness of his penetration and she gagged violently, her whole body jerking. He grabbed her head to keep her from swinging away, and held his cock deep inside her throat as she gagged and tried to breathe. Her convulsing abdomen was just below his eye level and he enjoyed watching her struggle, while her struggles massaged his cock.

Finally he released withdrew enough to let her breathe. She gasped, sucking in hair, but she also had vomit that was trying to come out her mouth. She aspirated some of the vomit and started a coughing fit. Nazur watched the girl's fine body shake and flex for a while until she get control, and then rammed his cock deep inside her throat again.

She was ready for him this time, and had gulped some air. He slid his member deep inside her throat, and then back out, repeatedly. She gasped for air when she could. Sometimes she coughed, and spit up some slime from her stomach. Nazur's controlled penetrations were not only to give him pleasure; they were also designed to cause as much discomfort to the girl through lack of air and vomiting as possible, without endangering her life.

When he felt himself ready, Nazur pulled out of her mouth and with a few quick strokes reached a shuddering orgasm. He ejaculated white, sticky, seminal fluid over her face. Some landed in her mouth but most trickled down into her inverted nostrils or slowly entered her eyes.

"Thank you, Eliza. That was good. But now you also realize that you are my property, to do with as I please. If I enter your mouth again today, it won't be as easy on you. It may even kill you. Is that the way you would like to die, Eliza? With some dirty cock rammed down your throat so you can't breathe?"

Nazur washed himself and then zipped his pants back up.

He went over to the wall and found his favorite flogger. It was a whip made of heavy leather, sturdy but flexible, and the tip spread out to a frayed set of three tongues that delivered a nasty cut to the flesh.

Eliza's arms had been tied into place behind her back. Releasing the rope that attached her wrists to her feet, Nazur pulled Eliza's arms down behind her and attached a weight to the rope to keep them down and away from her body. This stretched and pulled the muscles of the prisoner's shoulders and caused cramping in the back and chest, similar to an inverted strappado. He observed the woman's immediately labored breathing as she coped with the added stress to her body.

With her arms out of the way and her body completely exposed, Nazur stepped back from Eliza and tested the whip. It cracked in the air, making Eliza's body twitch when she heard the sudden sound. With a smooth, practiced stroke, Nazur swung the whip back and then around toward the helpless girl with all his force. The leather strand struck the bare flesh of her side, immediately wrapping around her stomach to her back and then around her body yet again. As the leather circled her body it picked up speed so that when the tip struck the flesh over her ribs it made a loud snapping noise, and cut a deep red swath.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEE!!!!" Eliza screamed in agony from the sudden pain, the sound echoing against the concrete walls. In distant cells, other prisoners heard her cry and shivered, wondering who was suffering and who might be next. Her body jerked. Nazur pulled the whip back, twisting the girl's torso around. When the whip released her, she swung back and forth wildly. He brought the whip around again, forcing another scream from the prisoner as the whip kissed the flesh of her breasts and shoulders.

Each strike of the whip hissed through the air and wrapped around Eliza's inverted and stretched body. Each strike made her lean flesh ripple with waves from the impact. Each strike made her cry out loud. She cried out for mercy as best she could, but the open gag in her mouth prevented anything but pitiable cries. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, and her body convulsed with pain at each strike, and with sobs between each strike.

The whipping continued for 24 lashes, each placed in a different area of the prisoner's body. With precise accuracy, Nazur made sure that the cuts from the whip covered her thighs, ass, back, shoulders, stomach, and breasts. When he was done Eliza was sobbing, trying to speak though her widely extended jaw prevented her from being understood.

The inverted position was causing the spy major stress. The blood pooled in her head and shoulders while her legs and body were suffering from poor circulation. Her head felt like it would explode, with a pounding like a hammer. Cramps had taken muscles everywhere from her legs to her back and shoulders. She couldn't move to relieve the cramps. Her nose was full of slowly drying semen, and her breasts were aching from the weights that were attached to them. Nausea waved over her, caused by the pain in her body as well as the drugs in her system that enhanced her agony.

Nazur wasn't ready for her to speak. He went over to her body and stilled its swaying, and then ran his hands down her strong inner thighs until his fingers once again found her pussy. He massaged it some, delving in and out as he pleased, feeling the inside and outside of her orifices. This humiliating invasion of her body caused Eliza to continue her sobs, tears of pain mixing with tears of humiliation.

"I think it is time for another part of your body to experience pain." Nazur spoke softly, as if caring for a wounded child. He took a device from the side table; it was a small box with lights and dials. Eliza could not see what he was doing, but feared what would come next.

Taking some electrically conductive lube and smearing it on two metal plugs, Nazure moved over to the spy's dangling form and spread the lips of her pussy wide, exposing the inside of her vagina. With his other hand he slid one of the plugs deep inside her body. The plug wasn't wide enough to cause significant pain, but the violation caused Eliza to react, jerking and writhing as she dangled.

Eliza's ass cheeks were spread wide, and the other plug found its home as it forced into her anus. The sphincter spread for it and then closed around its narrow ending, holding it in place nicely. Red wires ran from the plug in her vagina, black ones from her anus.

Nazur positioned himself before the upside down face of the spy and observed the crusty mix of semen, saliva and vomit drying on the skin. The eyes that looked at him were wild with fear and pain, reddened with stress and lack of sleep. The girl was almost ready, he knew. But he wasn't.

"Now, Eliza, I am going to ask you some questions. I want you to either nod your head or shake it, with your answer of yes or no. Do you understand?"

Eliza nodded her head, closing her eyes and squeezing tears out. She really was beautiful, even now, Nazur thought. He might save her after he had squeezed everything he could from her.

"Eliza. Did you ever sleep with Minister Najjar?"

Eliza nodded her head.

"Good. Did Minister Najjar give you information about the placement of the Fayed nuclear plant?"

Eliza nodded her head.

"Good. Did you pass this information to your contact?"

Eliza shook her head. Nazure pressed a button on a small remote and an electrical surge coursed through Eliza's body. She jerked, her eyes opening wide, and she let out a scream. The shock surged into her vagina and out her anus, causing agonizing, burning pain throughout the entire region of her body. Her stomach muscles contracted, her legs tensed, her body shook. This went on for about 10 seconds, until Nazur released the button.

Eliza tried to babble something through her mouth.

"Don't bother. I can't understand you. For now, yes or no. Let's try this again. Did you pass the information to your contact?" Nazur asked calmly.

Eliza nodded.

Nazur reached over and removed the ring gag. Eliza shut her cramping jaw, licking her lips, trying to ease the pain that covered her face.

"What is the name of your contact?"

Eliza wasn't thinking well, her mind almost completely broken, but some shred of loyalty held her from answering. She was silent. When Nazur moved to reach to the table, she flinched, the muscles in her body tensing and she cried out, anticipating the agonizing shock. But Nazur simply picked up a new gag and moved over to the girl's head. The new gag was more like a horse's bit, made of leather. It was worn with many teeth marks from previous use. When in place, it forced Eliza's face into a rictus-like grin, her lips pulled back at the corners.

"This gag is not designed to keep you from talking. It really is just here to keep you from biting your tongue when the shock takes hold of your body. I want you to be able to talk to me now. If you talk, I will understand. When you lie, or withhold information, I will hurt you."

When the bit gag was in place, Nazur pressed the button again. Eliza once again jerked and writhed, this time biting down on the gag. She gurgled, her entire body shaking in convulsions from the electrical current. Every muscle tensed. She thought she might pass out from the pain but somehow she stayed awake and aware.

After 30 seconds, Nazur released the button and Eliza's body relaxed. Her sobs decreased as she was gasping for air.

"What is the name of your contact?"

"Michael. Michael Hughes." Eliza spat the words out over the bit gag.

Nazur reached out and gently caressed the woman's beautiful body. As his hand stroked her stretched and inverted breasts, he pressed the button again. Most of the electricity was traveling from the electrodes in the girl's vagina to the electrodes in her rectum, but he felt the tingle on his fingers when she tensed and jerked.

"AGggjhhhhhhhh   iiiiiggggg...." The tensed pathetic gurgle that came from her mouth along with saliva was accompanied by a release of urine from above. She had lost control of body functions. Still Nazur kept the current going for a full 60 seconds. When he released it, the girls eyes had rolled up inside her head. She had blacked out.

With the stimulants in her system, the unconsciousness was brief. She came too moments later and her eyes rolled around wildly.

"Michael Hughes is no longer in the country, Eliza. Who did you give the information to?"

Eliza cried. Nazur stroked her face gently. "I know, dear. There is nothing more you can do. Just let it out. Who is your contact?"

After a moment of silence, the whispered answer... "Saif Nahyan."

The interrogation went more smoothly after this. Eliza had broken. She gave Nazur what he wanted, prompting electrical torture only three more times during the course of her interrogation, which took three hours. During these hours she remained suspended upside down, disoriented and in pain.

When it was over, Nazur lowered Eliza to the floor and released all her bonds except for the wrist restraints. Removing the nipple clamps made her cry out once again, and blood trickled over her firm breasts from the puncture wounds in the nipples. Eliza lay on the floor, no longer sobbing. Her naked body was covered with stripes of blood from the whipping, but retained its beauty. Nazur gave her water, and then dragged her back to a cell. There he chained her neck to the wall with a heavy collar, to await his pleasure at a later time.

And he did intend to continue his pleasure with this beautiful woman.