East Coast Slavers Organization

East Coast Slavers Organization – I: A Caribbean Adventure

Chapter 25 – On the High Seas (or Michigan Never Looked Better)

Veronica heard a thump and all sense of movement ended. She knew only that it was Friday night and she was being delivered to a ship for transport as a slave. She blindly turned her head from side to side, seeking some indication of what was going on. Sweat burned her eyes under the hot bondage helmet and her arms ached from their outstretched position. Someone's hands fumbled with the locks securing her feet and then her arms fell numbly to her side as the wrist chains holding her arms extended in the van were freed in a clash of metal on metal. Her husband, she thought, yanked her arms behind her back and roughly cuffed them in place. Then her collar yanked her forward. She blindly followed where she was led.

Twice, she halted so that her feet could feel their way over a high threshold and her head was ducked down. Then, she continued walking on steel decks. She knew that the ship would deliver he away from America and her old life. Eventually, they stopped her and she stood still, fearfully wondering what was going to happen next in the never-ending nightmare in which she was stuck.

Unknown to Veronica, she stood in the Officers' Mess being scrutinized by the men in whose hands her husband placed her fate during the ocean voyage. She heard a gruff and powerful voice say, "Your wife?" A giant hand covered her breast and squeezed till she thought her tit would explode. Veronica felt the hard flooring thump against her knees as the pain took her breath away and she fell down. The voice continued, "Is hot stuff. We will enjoy kinky bitch."

She moaned in relief as the hand left her; breast still throbbing in remembered anguish. Footsteps drifted away. A loud slap reached her ears and Veronica heard a moan of pain. Her husband spoke next, "Captain, remember if you want to take it out on someone, use the bondage slut. The other girls must be unmarked or your boss, Niarchos Constantinople, will have to reimburse Hosni Yassin for the damages.

Another gruff voice spoke up, "Is no problem, friend. We know rules. Captain just like to get off on right start with whores. Is just to establish they place here."

Two other quick slaps followed. Veronica heard quiet sobbing. "The collars must be off now," she thought. "Aahoon, heeep, heee. Hease. Horry, Aahoon," she tried a last time to get sympathy from her ex-husband.

Aaron spoke again, "Captain, you've all made your first choices then?"

"Yes. You go soon?"

"I just want to say goodbye one last time to the slut here. Ferero, Alcibiades, do you mind setting her up in your cabin for a last goodbye? Just leave her there, please."

Veronica felt strong hands grasp her shoulders and heave her upright. Her high-heels dragged across the floor as they hauled her away. Veronica broke down into endless sobs; unable to control any part of her fate.

The two men, Ferero and Alcibiades she thought, threw her onto a mattress. Arms cuffed behind her, she laid helplessly, her belly against a long-wide pillow, and her feet outstretched to the sides of the bed. Even blindfolded, she wondered how such a large bed got onto a ship. From her feet's positions, it was easily a king-size bed. The bed sagged on either side of her. Someone grabbed her ponytail and tied it to something. Her head was drawn back painfully and from the tugging at her wrists, she realized that the end of the line holding her head back was tightened around her wrist cuffs. The men fumbled at the laces of her corset and the bustier loosened before it was yanked from under her belly.

Ferero sat on her ass and forced her shoulders up and back, bowing her body in a painful arch. Veronica still hadn't seen her abusers. Alcibiades took a ten-foot section of thin braided nylon line and tied a slipknot in the end. Veronica felt the loop encircle her right breast just where the meat met her chest. Alcibiades tugged it tight with all his wiry strength and wound it round and round from the base of her breast up toward the nipple. Veronica felt her titty swell with trapped blood and then it felt as if thousands of tiny needles were prickling it as the wraps forced more and more blood up to the top of her breast.

Alcibiades took up another line and continued his work on the other breast.

Veronica heard herself moan piteously. She realized that nobody would give her mercy. The hands kept her back arched as her breasts were bound tighter and tighter. "Uggghhh. Hop hit. Heep!" Her body was released and her breasts thumped against the bed's cover. The line holding her head back then started to hurt. "My tits. Oh, how they ache. You fuckers," she cried to herself.

The cabin door slammed shut. Veronica felt alone and abandoned. She cried, tears flowed under her hot, tight hood down to her chin and then her neck.

After a few minutes, the door opened again but Veronica couldn't hear anyone enter the room. Her rasping breath was the only sound in the quiet place. Suddenly, light exploded through her eye slits and Aaron's face was just inches away. His head blocked her view and she felt a tongue enter her gapping mouth and dance with her own tongue. Despite her wide-open jaws, Veronica desperately tried to suck his tongue in. It was Aaron, her ex-husband. Her goal was to get him to talk and let her loose. Her tongue fought its way past his and into Aaron's mouth. He stopped kissing her and she mewed with dismay.

"Veronica, I want you to know that I haven't completely abandoned you. I had the terms of your bill of sale changed. Your ownership reverts to me after five years of slavery with your new owner, an Egyptian named Mr. Hosni Yassin. Think of it as a period of forced indentured service. After those five years, you come home, to me. You should realize, I will have to purchase you back from him at fair market price. I hope that you'll have changed for the better. That's when we will decide on your new status; free woman, servant, or slave."

Veronica felt him loosen the line holding her head back and felt momentary relief that he was releasing her. The sound of Aaron's zipper opening dispelled her of that fantasy. His hands fumbled at her ass and she felt him glide smoothly into her pussy in one long stroke. "I must be dripping wet for his monster cock to slide in so easily. Veronica, you are becoming a slut," she told herself. Determined to be a good fuck, she fought to raise her ass to even further seat his plunging dick into her throbbing pussy. Despite her logical and calculating intent, Veronica started to enjoy the stimulation; her pussy loosened further, and its musky juice started to dribble out.

Aaron's hands slipped under her chest and grabbed her aching bound tits in a brutal grip, far more powerful than the ship's Captain had subjected her to. Veronica screamed from the pain, losing her beginnings of a climax. The excruciating ache masked any sense of pleasure from her wet and sloppy pussy.

After Aaron left her weeping on the bed, unsatisfied, she felt his gooey jism start to flow out of her gapping cunt and dribble down her hairless pubic mound. It puddled under her belly. Her right ass cheek still ached from the stinging blow he gave her in parting and his hurtful comment about how she "needed to learn to enjoy the taste of latex condoms." He told her that his dick might be the last to ever bareback fuck her, as "nobody would ever dare sink his bare dick into a whore like her without protection."

"At least he took off the hood and my breast bondage," she thought with some relief. Her long blonde hair was now loosely held in a ponytail by an elastic band. She could at least rest in her present minimal bondage.

Hours later, she woke to the sounds of two men stumbling around the cabin. "They're drunk," she thought.

"Ferero," one of the men started, "there's a cunt on our bed."

Veronica blinked in dismay at the thought of two men sharing her at once in their bed during her voyage. She thought them both unsavory looking characters. Each was similar in build – short, thin, and of dark complexion.

"Idiot, is why we came back to ship tonight. Alcibiades, no need for whores when we have own girl here waiting."

"Alcibiades sounds Greek. The other is from another country; but I can't tell by the accent," Veronica thought.

The first man to speak, Alcibiades, unbuckled his belt and grabbing the buckle in his right hand, wrapped a loop of the leather around his clenched fist. He swished the belt and it sang through the air.

Veronica turned toward Ferero and saw him mirroring his friend's movements. Each took up a position on a different side of her ass. "Hooo, hoooo," Veronica tried to cry. Simultaneous blows across both cheeks of her ass took her breath away. She was so stunned that she couldn't begin to shriek until each man made his third blow to her ass, each working in perfect unison. With her hands bound behind her, Veronica's shoulders bounced around on the bed as she tried in vain to escape the blows. It was over quickly, but Veronica continued to sob in pain.

She felt the bed sag on her right and looked to see the man with the unidentifiable accent, Ferero, kneeling there naked, sliding a condom on his dick. His cock was nowhere as long as Aaron's; but, its six-inch length was more than offset by it's inhumanly wide-girth. The cock was bigger around than a soda can and curved up to an abnormally small head. Its geometry was so out of perforation that it looked more like something a troll would have as a horn rather than a sex organ. He grinned evilly at her.

Alcibiades grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up off the bed, sore breasts swinging. Veronica saw Ferero swat the bed-wide pillow out from under her belly and he spun around, throwing his legs between hers. Veronica's legs were still anchored to the sides of the bed's footboard. Alcibiades set her down atop his friend and bedmate, Ferero.

Ferero's hand guided his monstrosity of a cock to her wet cunt and nodded to his friend. Alcibiades lowered her until her stretched cunt stopped her descent, only half full of Filipino dick.

Veronica wailed through her ringgag and looked back to see what Alcibiades was up to. He pulled off his trousers and his dick uncoiled. He had no underwear on. Veronica looked in disbelief at the exposed cock. It was so unlike Ferero's that it would have been worth laughing about in any other circumstance. Alcibiades' dick was absurdly thin, no more than an inch in diameter. Its length was amazing, easily twelve inches long. Veronica watched as the long hose of a cock bobbled around, rubber-like rather than hard like the cock punching into her cunt. Alcibiades slathered a handful of thick goopy gel that looked like Vaseline along his snake-like dick and grinned down at her horrified face. He was obviously unable to fit a condom to his deformed cock.

Veronica turned her head away from the sight and looked down at the short man under her. His hands were crushing her breasts against his face and his teeth were nipping at the fat meat. Her head swung straight back and she groaned in pain as Alcibiades pushed down on her ass, fully seating the troll's horn into her cunt. Slimy fingers wormed their way around her ass and its tight brown sphincter. "Hooo, heeese. Hop hit," Veronica tried to scream to get their attention. "I need to be able to speak," she thought.

A pressure started to build against her butt and suddenly, at least four inches of thin cock snaked its way into her ass. Ferero lay passively under her as his friend wormed his way into her intestines. Veronica felt strong suction as the obscenely long dick worked its way back and forth into her rectum, ever deeper and deeper. She felt stuffed with cock.

After Alcibiades was fully-seated, he started a slow, even fucking pace that Ferero quickly matched. At first, the two fucked in perfect opposite action. As Alcibiades pulled out, he pushed her ass down on his friend. As Ferero pulled out, he pushed her ass up to meet his friend's downward-moving snake.

Veronica started to enjoy the tandem fuck. Her holes were only stuffed full one at a time and the flexible, thin shape of one cock smoothly slid in and out of her bowels without cramping. Ferero's fat cock stretched her pussy lips and brought her clit closer to the thin man's pubic bone. Inside her cunt, the curved horn scraped strongly against both the front and rear faces of her vaginal walls. She was getting plenty of stimulation. Veronica's sex holes were loosening up from the stimulation and the excess lubricant. Ferero's pubic bone was hitting her clit bruisingly hard; she liked it.

"Huck, huck, huck," Veronica started to chant.

Beneath her, Ferero's upthrust hips started to slip out of rhythm with his friend. Each now shifted into another practiced pattern. Now, two cocks started to fuck into Veronica's holes at once. Her hips were suspended in the air as the two cocks increased their pace and slammed in unison into her rectum and cunt.

Veronica exploded in orgasm just as the fuck pattern changed. Limp, she was unable to participate or resist as the two continued to hammer away at her. Another orgasm started to build up and Veronica cried in shame as she welcomed the stimulation. She slipped into unconsciousness after the third and most intense orgasm.

Midway through the night, she awoke to find her legs free and her arms stretched overhead toward the headboard. Ferero was unconscious on top of her, his fully erect dick still embedded in her aching pussy. Alcibiades snored beside her. Veronica wrapped her legs around the sleeping Filipino and she started to hump up against the sleeping man. Veronica felt the engines throb to life in the depths of the ship and soon they were underway. She slowly fucked herself through the night on the drunken First Mate's spike as he and Chief Steward slept through the ship's sailing.

Veronica Clarke (23), Emily Davis (26), Pamela Bondi (25), and June Curl (25) were beginning the adventure of their lives. It was not what they expected as a career; it was not as bad as they thought it would be. Each would find fulfillment in their own way. Life at Hosni Yassin's corporate headquarters would be low-key slavery and easy whoredom to bear for the four women. Even Veronica, the purported pain slut, would not be treated too badly. Hosni was not as jaded as he liked to think himself and neither were his European business customers.

--L--A--T--E--R--

Aaron Clarke sat down at the planning table on Sunday morning with his three remaining female prisoners from the raid against the Oscar Lynden drug organization. The intent of the meeting was to plan how to arrange for the return of two of the law enforcement officers to their careers while the third woman, undercover agent Karen Rigden, remained behind with Aaron as a hostage.

"The point is," Aaron began, "you have to have a plausible story to explain your absence and set the stage for Karen's eventual return. A good story is that a rouge element within a competing drug cartel attacked Oscar's organization. The best candidates are the enforcers from the Arellano Felix Organization, a major Mexican drug cartel. Say that they conducted the raids against Oscar Lynden's operations in Miami."

"Who are these people and why would this be believable," asked Regina, the lawyer from the Florida Office of Statewide Prosecution.

"The idea is to have a plausible story that provides law enforcement with the expectation of high value arrests and detailed information on another major trafficking organization. The Arellano Felix is a notably successful and extremely violent drug cartel that moves drugs into the U.S. from Mexico. They have a band of ex-Mexican Army Commandos, The Zetas (Last Ones) who act as enforcers and guarantors of drug shipments. They are known to have killed more than 100 people in the last five years while moving and protecting drug shipments. They also conduct murders, kidnappings, extortion, and auto theft. They are bad hombres that the U.S. would like to see taken out of business."

Helen listened intently. "But, what are the details and what concrete info do we return with?" she asked.

"The accountant, Michael Mueller, had extensive direct knowledge of the Arellano Felix cartel activities in Miami. We make sure that you have enough critical, time sensitive data to pass on to the authorities for immediate action. A key figure in the cartel, Osiel Cardenos, was sighted here with Arturo Guzman Decena, the leader of The Zetas. He is codenamed Zeta-1. The two are among the top ten on the DEA's Most Wanted List."

"You two, Helen and Regina, will make clear that they attacked James Lee, Oscar's top lieutenant, the night you were on duty. As part of this attack, your male comrade was overwhelmed and you were captured trying to protect your observation site after he left the outer door open. Later, you learn that Karen Rigden had successfully attached herself to one of the top Zetas, maybe Arturo Guzman Decena or Luis Alberto Guerrero (The Warrior), one of his most violent deputies. Karen ultimately helps you escape to a hide site. She convinces the accountant to join you two and turn state's evidence."

"Before you can escape from your hide site, the Zetas discover you and recapture all three of you (Helen, Regina, and Michael). You are beaten and tortured again until Karen manages to set up your escape once again, at great risk to her own life. You escape with the stashed evidence detailing names, addresses, bank accounts, transfer records, organizational structures, business methodology, etc."

Regina and Helen sat still and mulled over the plan concept. "Why didn't the cartel just kill us?" Regina asked.

"Good question," said Aaron. "First off, they will have told you of a reluctance to confront U.S. authorities directly and on U.S. soil. Thus the reason for leaving your male counterpart alive and lying in his own piss instead of a pool of blood. As to you two, you will show ample proof on your bodies of their attempts to torture you. Ultimately, the Arellano Felix Organization would have snuck you two into Mexico and snuffed you there."

Both Helen and Regina flinched. They each knew irrefutable evidence of torture was key to their credibility. Their proof of abuse along with critical intelligence on two major drug organizations would allow them to write their own ticket with the F.B.I. Aaron had already explained how Karen remained behind absolutely paranoid about someone alerting the drug lords as to her true identity, supposedly the same way Helen and Regina were compromised at the surveillance site. Helen and Regina would report that Karen refused to communicate with anyone except her two comrades.

Aaron set a mound of folders compiled by the drug lord's accountant onto the table. "Alright ladies," he said. "It's time to dig into the details. You two need to memorize this stuff before you get to go home." As he left the women to begin work, he tossed back a final comment, "And girls, don't worry about fresh signs of torture and abuse. Karen and I will take care of that for you." Aaron Clarke walked out of the room to meet next with Michael Mueller.

Michael Mueller would already have been executed by Aaron Clarke had the goals of the E.C.S.O. not been redefined. Michael's willing complicity with Oscar Lynden's drug organization was enough to warrant his death. Aaron's new challenge was how to turn the situation to his advantage. The detailed intelligence Michael compiled proved his usefulness to the drug cartel both as an accountant and as a manager of illicit funds. Aaron had already decided to invest his windfall profits, over $31 million from just the Lynden Organization, in a new Caribbean base and some diversified investments.

Recently a family-owned vineyard and winery in the Mendoza wine region of Argentina had come on the market. The well-known vineyards, El Campo de Diablo (The Devil's Fields), were renowned for their century-old Malbec, Cabernet, Zinfindel, and Viognier vines. The 450-acre estate was located twelve miles south of Mendoza at an elevation of 2,500 feet. The site had warm days and cool nights, perfect for developing robust varietal characteristics in wine grapes. The region is visually reminiscent of the California coastal wine production region.

The family winery located on El Campo de Diablo was named La Manera de Diablo (The Devil's Way). Both the primary winemaker and the vineyard manager indicated their willingness to remain, contingent upon approval of the purchasers. The operation needed a strong manager to oversee and direct all aspects of the business from the raising of grapes, and other farm crops, to marketing of the finished wines. Aaron thought that Michael Mueller would fill this position well.

Aaron's major challenge was to ensure that Michael remained on-site for his five-year period of controlled probation prior to his ultimate release. The nearby Mendoza Provincial Penitentiary and its chief operating officers, the Director and his Deputy Director, would serve to ensure Michael Mueller's compliance. Aaron's west coast partner, and trusted friend, had conducted previous business dealings with the two men. They were powerful and ruthless, controlling many legal and illegal businesses within the Mendoza region. Steve Austin, Aaron's partner, judged them dependable in that once bribed, they considered themselves honor-bound to fulfill their end of the bargain. With this recommendation, Aaron arranged for Michael to be placed under house arrest on the estate.

The new name for the estate, once Aaron closed on the acquisition, would become Montanya de Diablo (The Devil's Mountain). Aaron felt the continued multiple references to the devil appropriate considering his original business plan to establish a slavery operation.

Michael Mueller would soon begin his willing exile and work toward his eventual release and the lucrative reward promised at the end of five years. He also had the assurances of all three law enforcement agents that over time they would work hard to clear his name with U.S. authorities.

--L--A--T--E--R--

As the stay-behind hostage, law enforcement agent Karen Rigden was charged with making sure that no doubt would ever arise from Helen Powell and Regina Tyre's law enforcement associates as to the veracity of their torture and escape story. Aaron loved the sight of the conflicting emotions reflected in Karen's face as she contemplated her recommendations. It was clear that she didn't want to hurt her friends and yet the more obvious the abuse she meted out, the more truthful the concocted story would appear. Also, she was more than a little envious of their escape and fearful of what horrors she might face alone as a hostage to their good behavior. She steeled herself to approach her task without reservation or empathy.

Karen Rigden laid out her recommended torture plan for her associates on a typed memo emailed to Puppy and Aaron. With few modifications, the plan was approved and set into motion. The two women would be released before dawn the morning after their torture ordeal.

Karen Rigden and Ingrid Gaviard led the two law enforcement officers to the already prepared punishment site, Training Pad H – The Punishment Cage.

"Helen and Regina," Ingrid said as she pointed to the suspension system in the Punishment Cage, "strip down and cuff yourselves in."

Each of the 5'6" women bravely started to remove their clothing. Helen Powell wore only sandals and a simple one-piece dress. She stepped clear of her shoes, unbuttoned the top three buttons of her dress, and smoothly pulled it over her head, exposing her tiny black thatch of hair protecting her pubic mound. Helen trembled in fear and momentarily hesitated before she leaned down gracefully to lock her ankles into the already waiting leather cuffs chained to the floor. Her breasts jiggled enticingly as she stood erect and awkwardly latched a wristcuff onto her left wrist. Helen stood bravely awaiting help Karen's help with the last cuff and the start of the session.

Regina Tyre stood as if shell-shocked; not ready to willingly participate in getting ready for her own torture. As a young prosecutor, she was less prepared to face such a wretched physical fate than her better prepared friends, Helen or Karen, who had with actual field experience.

As Karen and Ingrid were now busy getting ready to begin, Aaron stepped forward and gently grasped Regina's upper arm. "Regina, forgive my joke about this earlier. What follows is necessary and will be as dispassionate as possible. We will avoid any further humiliation than is required to protect your cover story." Aaron calmly reached over and unzipped the side zipper on her cute red skirt. It fluttered down the brunette's legs to form a soft mound around her shoes.

Regina just stood there as Aaron slowly undid the row of buttons on her blouse. Her soft tits became exposed as the blouse opened up, teasingly slow from top to bottom, before the white blouse slid down her unresisting shoulders and arms to settle limply on the floor.

Aaron cupped a hand on one shapely lower leg while he took off one of her low-heeled shoes. He grinned as he noted the similarity to raising a horse's leg prior to shoeing or hoof-cleaning. The pale brown patch of pubic hair inches from his eyes and the tantalizing whiff of womanly odor dispelled any further correlation to that analogy. Aaron had to resist the strong impulse to bury his face against her tempting pussy. "Hmmm," he told himself, "it sucks to have to stand by my promise to limit the humiliation of this session; especially since Regina has such a willing and talented pussy."

Regina finally seemed to shake herself alert as Aaron urged her toward the cuffs awaiting her about ten feet from where Helen now stood. The two were soon equally helpless to resist the coming session.

Aaron stepped up first to Helen and said, "You have a choice of mouthware; a mouthguard, a rubber bit, or a gag. I recommend the mouthguard, it will best protect your teeth and face."

Helen weakly nodded her head and simply said, "OK" before opening her mouth. The heavy mouthguard slipped in easily. Regina also chose the mouthguard option.

Moments before, Puppy brought over three sets of leather boxing gloves used to protect boxers' hands from punching bags. Ingrid already stood beside Regina wearing her gloves and Helen was almost finished putting on hers.

Aaron curtly commanded, "Ready. Begin;" and Puppy powered the electric winches, raising Helen and Regina's arms overhead. The strain sucked in the women's abdomens and fully displayed all their feminine charms. Karen started on Helen's left thigh with a viscous punch. The meaty smack was instantly followed by a deep grunt of pain. Karen continued with measured right- and left-handed blows to the woman's left leg. She worked silently for more than five minutes as she covered the woman's calves, thighs, ass cheeks, and pussy mound with a flurry of painful blows. Finally she stepped back and wiped sweat of her brow with the back of one wrist. Puppy handed Karen and Ingrid each a sports bottle of water.

As instructed earlier by Aaron, the pair's first responsibility during breaks was to water their victims before drinking themselves. Amazingly, both Helen and Regina were able to remain mostly silent during their first round of torture. They gasped to regain their lost breath after the mouthguards were removed and then drank greedily the few meager ounces of cold water allocated. Neither woman begged for mercy; instead, they waited stoically as Aaron, Puppy, Ingrid, and Karen whispered among themselves a few feet away.

Then, it was time to begin again. Ingrid switched places with Karen. She now stood beside Helen where she reinserted the mouthguard. Though silent thus far during the ordeal, Helen's eyes were already swollen from crying and tears streaked down her face.

Ingrid and Karen repeated their attack against the women's lower bodies, only now working on a different victim.

The third and fourth rounds of beatings concentrated on the women's torsos and deeply bruised their abdomens, ribs, breasts, and kidneys. Each would probably piss blood in their urine for several days and they would require rib bandages to ease the pain of breathing.

Aaron alone administered the last part of the first session. Ingrid stood behind the first victim, Helen, and tightly clasped her black hair in one hand while her other steadied the back of her head. Aaron carefully struck blow after blow with his leather-covered right fist only. He started with the woman's forehead and eyes, moved to her ears, and finished up on her nose and mouth. Aaron wanted tissue damage and bruising, but no broken noses. As expected, his final blows split Helen's luscious lips in multiple places. Aaron signaled Karen to move the now unconscious woman away while he and Ingrid turned their attention to Regina.

Thirty minutes later, Helen and Regina were side-by-side, secured similarly belly-down on low black leather ottomans. Their arms and legs were tightly strapped down, each with their delectable ass and pussy helplessly upthrust. They were ready for the next stage of abuse. None of the women knew what was to transpire.

"Girls," Aaron started, "no gag or mouthguard will help you now. We have to leave your breathing passages clear given the condition of your noses and sinus."

The two punished women peered down to the puddles of blood that pooled on the blue mat from bloody noses and torn lips. They were too miserable to respond and remained limply in place; silent and apprehensive.

Aaron himself made the final adjustments on the two mechanical fucking machines. Each girl's thinly stretched pussy lips were wrapped around a fat, nine-inch rubber cock with deep ridges. The twin cocks glistened with a thick layer of slithery-slick sex lube. Aaron turned the machine on and observed the hydraulic rams silently and remorselessly fuck the women with deep in and out strokes. Helen and Regina were too tightly bound to wriggle their hips either to ease the fucking strokes or to evade them.

Aaron sat in his comfortable chair, alone and silent, while he observed the beginning action of this session. Pussy, Ingrid, and Karen were already gone; ordered away to other duties. Aaron wanted them safely out of sight during this final and most unpleasant round of abuse. The three women thought that the mechanical fucking machine would stroke untiringly into vaginas and assholes until enough signs of mass rape were evident. Aaron knew that he had to inflict significantly more damage to their tender membranes than a lube-slick dildo would generate. He grimly reminded himself that obvious signs of repeated rape and torture were needed in order to maintain full believability of their accounts of what occurred.

Aaron decided that the machines' fucking was probably soothing to the exhausted women. He moved forward to kneel between the two steadily stroking cocks and slathered more lube on them as well as on the exposed pussy lips. He spread waterless hand cleaner liberally on his hands and then carefully dried them on a fluffy handtowel.

Beside the silently kneeling man were a vicious-looking cat-o-nine-tails with heavy whipping straps and a bucket of coarse crystalline children's play-box sand. The sand was a last-minute addition brought in from a local Home Depot store. Aaron dipped one hand into the bucket and brought up a fistful of the white sand. Not fully certain how the next part of the session would damage the girls, he let a few grains escape to sparsely scatter along the length of the glistening shafts.

Neither girl reacted as the increased friction on the shafts started to pull the pouting pussy lips out along the shaft on out-strokes and drag the quickly swelling lips into the pussies during the in-strokes. The increased friction and abrasive effect went unnoticed due to the strong topical numbing agent Aaron blended in with the sex lube. The girls would be unaware that the thrusting cocks were 'sanding off' sensitive flesh in and around their assholes and cunts. Aaron let more sand dribble down to more fully coat the fake cocks. Sand also soon coated the pussy lips and pussy mounds of each woman; increasingly red and swollen from the gritty fucking.

As the relentless fucking continued, Aaron pinched Regina's slowly undulating ass cheek and eased a needle into the captured mound. The syringe plunger sent a powerful muscle relaxant into her system. She would be unconscious before her abuse assfuck started.

Aaron turned off the hydraulic pump and exchanged the bloody nine-inch cocks with clean six-inch ones better suited for anal sex. He eased the first inch of the slippery dildo into Helen's tight anal ring and remembered her fondness for rough anal sex. As the hydraulic ram started another relentless fuck, he turned to Regina and inspected her bloody pussy lips that clung limply to the sandy shaft still embedded in her pussy. Soon a slenderer and shorter cock was gliding in and out of her asshole.

Aaron picked up the whip and stared again at the now sandy assholes. The inward strokes of the punishing cocks made the brown anal sphincters disappear deeply into the rectums. "These are gonna hurt so bad tomorrow," Aaron muttered as his arm swept back for the first whipping stroke he would administer.

Even in her nearly unconscious state, Helen's back arched up at each stroke of the whip. Aaron carefully left deep wheals of red stripes across their backs, sides, asses, and legs without once breaking the skin. He was attempting to preserve their flawless skin and not leave any permanent scars.

Aaron dismantled the fucking machines and loaded his torture equipment into two heavy canvas bags. He walked away silently, leaving two bloody and thoroughly tortured women sleeping behind him.

Puppy, Ingrid, and Helen would be sent out soon to douche out, bathe, and apply soothing creams to the women's bodies. Well before dawn on the next morning, a Monday, Aaron would drive them to a quiet beach site near the highway stretching south to the Florida Keys. The two law enforcement agents would stumble along the rocky shoreline to a nearby parking area with a working pay phone. The penniless agents would simply dial 911 and wait for medical and police assistance. After that, everyone involved would quickly see whether the risks taken by Aaron to release these women were worth the possibility of capture and imprisonment.

Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com