THE SEARCHER / CAMP OF ANGELS - PART 7
CHAPTER 15
Unlike her younger sister, Rosemary had no talent for the stage.
Nevertheless she, with all of the other Angels, found herself quaking with
embarrassment on a stage before the grandstand on which were seated all of the
attendants and guests, most of whom were laughing and smirking at the amateur
show. The performers were all wearing identical light blue see-through leotards
with the breasts and bottoms of every girl, and the genitalia of the two men,
pushing through the tight fitting costumes. They went through their set
pieces, with fixed smiles having to be permanently in place on their faces, and
now graced with stage make-up.
The karaoke song Rosemary and four others were performing, 'I Will
Survive', seemed very apt as they sang it with as much enthusiasm as they could
muster, knowing they had to. Next to them other Angels were high stepping in a
chorus line to the music which made their bodies jiggle and bounce to the
obvious delight of the audience.
Their next number was appropriately enough, 'Slave To Love' - they were
only able to select their chosen repertoire from songs which were considered
'right for the occasion. How it galled all of them having to sing earnestly as
best they could such words, now real to them, whilst the crowd jeered at the
inevitable flat notes or missed stanzas.
They then tried their hardest with the Line Dancing but their were many
lapses which attracted catcalls from the audience and jotted notes in Miss
Wang's book of pain. Fear and shame were their main companions as, without any
real choice, they sweated and bounced through the routine.
For the several slow numbers which concluded that section of the show
Rosemary found herself grinding round the floor with the cross-dressing man who
had spoken to her whilst they had built the railway. To a casual observer they
would look like two blonde girls dancing a slow number - seemingly much in
love. One was nearly naked with most of her beauty on show whilst the other was
elegantly attired and with her hands sliding over every curve of the other's
beauty. However, their slow lingering kisses seemed genuine - only Rosemary
would know the sickening feelings within her!
Around her, her friends were in similar predicaments. Lindsey danced
with a large muscular Negro. She was lost in his broad black arms enfolding her
body as he clasped her buttocks flexing under her costume. Carol and Linda were
entwined in other arms, each earnestly holding their partner and hungrily
returning their kisses. Their training was bearing fruit Rosemary thought
miserably.
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Rosemary, like the others, was now completely naked on the stage and
caught in the harsh glare of the spotlights; they showed various handprints on
her breasts, thighs and buttocks. Those imprints made her bitterly recall the
striptease they had just had to perform as an act after the dancing. Again with
the fixed smile on her face she had slowly slipped the costume from her body,
wiggling and stroking herself shamelessly as she slowly revealed her beauty. As
previously instructed she had to splay her legs lewdly and draw the discarded
costume back and forth over her sex. Her face had burned with shame at the
comments and whistles as she gyrated, but worse was to come.
The striptease had finished with lap-dancing. How she had wanted to
remain in the relative security of the stage - but that wasn't permitted.
Following the routine drilled into them that day by Miss Mitzie, Rosemary led
the other nude girls in seductively stepping down and into the sweating,
laughing audience of lechers. Almost instantly Rosemary had been pulled onto
the lap of a big American brute. Obediently remembering her instructions she
had splayed her legs either side of his, writhing her body like a snake as she
drew her hands up over her jiggling breasts to then keep them planted firmly on
her head, giving him full rein. She recalled yelping in pain as his large hands
mashed her breasts, yet still keeping up her act and her smile. Then his podgy
fingers intruded between her legs, palm upwards on her vulva they curled up into
her, making her wriggle even more. Oh how she hated his large thick fingers,
as big as sausages, twisting and turning up into both entrances of her body.
One grizzled man must have been in his seventies, big and with iron- grey hair.
He had not been satisfied until his bony fingers were fully embedded in her and
her sweat was dripping and flicking onto his clothing with her wild, bouncing,
obscene movements. His other hand cruelly squeezed her jiggling breasts and
curving bouncing bottom.
The women in the audience were just as bad. A large Indian, complete
with a jewel elegantly suspended on her forehead, grabbed her, pulling her down
to sit side-saddle on her sari. Again, Rosemary had to endure and pretend to
enjoy the attentions of the dark hands mauling her. She responded with an
eager, open mouth, returning the woman's kisses in full, pressing her soft
breasts against her. The lap-dance session had been a nightmare of slobbering
mouths and hot crawling fingers.
Then, on other laps, she could almost still feel the hard throbbing
roots of the erections pressing up obscenely against her bottom, the wet hairy
crutches where the women had pushed her hands as she danced for their amusement.
Fingers had filled and stretched her sex and anus, and her bosoms throbbed from
spiteful biting.
Sloane Ranger - Elaine had also to writhe on the lap of a woman. She
was a large cropped hair brute chewing gum who took a delight in bouncing the
young blonde on her lap, slobbering over the wildly jiggling ripe young breasts
whilst her hands fanned over the tight bottom.
Rosemary cringed, imagining her Penny probably having to endure similar
indecencies as she no doubt put on her show a few weeks previously. Where was
she now? Rosemary wondered. Hopefully they would be reunited soon so that she
could summon help for them both. Thankfully though Miss Mitzie had called an
end to the session and they had to stand in a line before the hooting audience
to bow and curtsey deeply before the next phase of the show began.
Shaking her head she dispelled the recollections of the lap-dancing and
concentrated on the present. The grim expression on her face and that of the
others couldn't have contrasted more drastically than with those of the audience
- knowing that worse was to come.
"It's quiz hour ladies and gentlemen," boomed the hearty voice of Miss
Mitzie. "This will be the finish to the evening's entertainment," she smiled at
the gloating faces in the grandstand and then at the four teams who were already
in a considerable state of discomfort.
Rosemary was now with her team sitting painfully astride a triangular
shaped wooden frame one behind the other. It looked like a long dog's kennel
its pointed roof over a metre from the ground. This meant that the feet of the
uncomfortably seated team members could not reach the floor and thus their full
weight rested on the sensitive flesh at the apex of their splayed thighs.
Straps fastened to their ankles prevented them attempting to lift their legs and
their wrists were secured alongside their necks into a horizontal plank like a
yoke connecting them all together in their team. She wriggled her bare toes,
suspended inches above the floor. How she longed to be able to press them to
the ground, to ease the excruciatingly sharp pain eating up into her sex. Just
breathing heavily, lifting her ribcage, made the pain worse, so she kept her
breaths as shallow as possible. How she also longed to claw the eyes from the
amused eager faces in the audience. That was not an option, however, she had to
remain in place attempting to keep the smile on her face.
"All righty ladies and gentlemen," continued Miss Mitzie theatrically,
"tonight I am assisted by the lovely Dixie who, as entertainment coordinator,
has the honour of penalising the losing teams."
As if she were a television game show host, Mitzie took Lindsey's
trembling hand. She ensured that the Italian girl alongside her, as naked as
the team members on their uncomfortable perches, bowed deeply to the audience,
setting her breasts bouncing. Like the others, she had to keep a fixed smile on
her face.
"For those who don't know the rules," Mitzie went on, her arms draped
around the dip of Lindsey's shapely bare waist, "they are very simple. Members
of the audience call out questions one at a time and the winning team of that
round is the one which first to give the correct answer. Those teams who do not
answer or who get it wrong have a 5 kilo weight added by my lovely assistant, to
their plank." She possessively patted Lindsey's bottom, whispering in a hiss to
the shaking girl to smile more deeply.
" The game ends," she continued, "when the first team has 10 weights,
that's 50 kilos, on the plank. The team with the least number of weights is the
winner and they are allowed to get down from their uncomfortable perches- and
believe me that edge eats right up into their sweet crutches," she gave a mock
grimace." All other teams have to remain in place for a minute for every weight
they carry. Thus the losing team will have pretty sore botties," she laughed,
again patting Lindsey's backside, drawing the smiling girl closer to her.
The audience heard the shuddering gasps from each team and saw the
heaving shoulders above the already tortured flesh. They had been wondering
just how much longer they could stand the sharp biting pain of that ridge
cutting up into their sensitive flesh, pressed down simply by their own weight -
and now they knew it would get worse!
"Well, I can see that the teams are eager to start, " boomed Mitzie,
slapping Lindsey's bottom with a resounding crack, making her jump, her smile
faltering. She turned to the audience. " Someone start us off with the first
question please. Any topic; yes, the lady in the long blue dress, third row."
-----------------------------------------------------------
Any shift in position sent shards of fresh pain up into Rosemary's
tortured body, providing a jolt of further agony for a team already burdened by
five heavy weights on the plank through which their heads protruded. Any sudden
move represented a scorching line of white- hot fire deep into her.
Whilst having to endure the pain, threatening to cut them in two, they
also had to concentrate to keep their minds sharp enough to understand and
answer the questions being fired from the laughing audience. Like the others,
beads of sweat trickled down Rosemary's strained face. Abstractly, she watched
a rivulet trickle down Carol's spine where her shapely buttocks were painfully
splayed either side of the cruel black ridge pushing up into them. The older
woman was seated immediately in front of her and she saw the glistening trail
gradually disappear down into the deep cleft of her companion's nates.
She had momentarily lost concentration. With a shuddering sigh,
Rosemary heard one of her team members impetuously shout out an answer to which
the questioner in the audience gleefully shook his head. Now the remaining
teams who had so far sensibly remained silent had 15 seconds to consider their
answers. Shoulders sagging with apprehension and almost hatred she saw the
sweating, straining figure of Lindsey look briefly in their direction.
Presently the Italian girl was hefting a weight onto another team's
plank, producing a thin gasp of pain, but the pressure was on her too. It would
be impossible for her to show or probably feel, any compassion for her friends
in the quiz. She had to constantly scurry round hefting the heavy weights whilst
also noting to whom she had to give her next burden of pain. Her body shone
with effort, her face lined with concentration. The answers often came faster
than she could run and she had a permanent backlog of weights to allocate as the
game continued. When indeed, she had made a mistake in adding a weight to the
wrong team's plank Miss Mitzie's cane had lashed out cruelly across the curved
sheen of her back making her scream - much to amusement of the audience.
"Haah," Rosemary gasped through gritted teeth, the sinews standing out
in her neck, as Lindsey carefully lifted the fresh burden of agony onto her
shoulders which their last wrong answer had just earned.
How could she take this, she wondered as the extra weight crushed her
down, the sharp unforgiving apex pushing further up into her splayed sex. Her
teeth were bared, momentarily glaring at Lindsey, the instigator of her pain.
However, the girl could afford no compassion, she had no time as she already
cast anxious glances around, obviously desperately thinking ahead to the
destination of her next weight.
Rosemary and the rest of her team had collected eight weights when the
game was over, the second highest score. Those equivalent number of minutes
sitting silent and still on that cutting edge, whilst the audience left their
seats to wander around the teams, seemed to be the longest of her life. She was
constantly blinking away the sweat pooling in her eyes where it distorted the
leering faces of the observers who stared at her, seemingly drinking in her
pain. She heard a low whining noise, wishing whoever it was would shut up,
before realising with a start it was herself. Every minute or so one of the
other teams with less weights would be released and they too would cry out with
the pain of the act of swinging their taut legs off the roof and of the
circulation being restored.
After she had been released, Rosemary, shamelessly, ignoring the hoots
of laughter, crouched and pressed her hands up into her burning, sex to ease the
throbbing pain. Most of her fellow team members were doing likewise,
undignified but so necessary. She tried to find some pity for the losing team
with their heavier weight and on their evil perch for two more minutes but one
could think only of oneself in this place.
The final act of the evening was the presentations by the Angles to Miss
Mitzie and Miss Wang. Rosemary could hear giggles erupting from the crowd as
she so deferentially presented the pretty little lace knickers on which they had
obviously worked so hard. Mr Garth had earlier made them all practice the
required curtsy - but Rosemary's was now seemingly insufficient for Miss Wang.
Three times she had to perform the debasing act, accompanied by titters from the
audience, before the youngster was satisfied.
"You maybe a little sore?" the young bitch nodded at Rosemary's curly
thatch.
"Yes Miss," she whispered.
Everyone present knew how much she must hate the gloating youngster who
made her life hell. Nevertheless, she bowed deeply with her offering, glazing
her eyes from the mocking smile of the girl who so casually and disdainfully
threw it into the growing heap of gifts. All had been so dutifully worked on
for no reward, just despair and humiliation for them, and amusement for the
watchers.
CHAPTER 16
Her mouth dry with dread, Rosemary was being taken on another march,
between two guards. This time, however, Mrs Leilla was also in attendance.
When she reached a door in the guest's quarters, the woman briefly addressed
her.
"Remember, you must love anyone and everyone who owns you, who takes on
your parole. Make clear that they are at that moment, the only person in your
mind and heart - your life depends on your enthusiasm. Go ahead, demonstrate
this to the person within, it doesn't matter who they are or how repulsive they
may appear to you. This is a little perk for a friend of mine, and it is good
practice for your future. You give everything you have," Mrs Leilla emphasised,
"you also maybe say goodbye to your friends today." Rosemary quaked with equal
mixtures of dread and excitement at what the woman's statement could mean!
Would she soon discover Penny's whereabouts? Further speculation was stifled as
Mrs Leilla gently knocked on the door, pushing Rosemary to a stumbling halt
within.
Reminding her somewhat of the prison, the smell of another unwashed body
washed over her as she collected her senses within the darkened room. Fear ate
her innards. Fear at who or what awaited her.
"Come in further little pretty," the voice came from the shadows.
Her stomach flipped, nearly making her retch. It was the horrible Arab,
Abdul, Mrs Leilla's accomplice who had first kidnapped her. He sat waiting for
her like an oily toad.
"Close the door little girl, we want to be alone - as lovers - yes?"
His finger crooked in a lurid invitation she knew she daren't refuse.
Wildly her eyes darted to the amused Mrs Leilla, seeking in vain any
spark of pity at what she was forcing a fellow woman to endure. Instead, with a
wink and a smile, she simply helped Rosemary to close the door on her fate.
"Where this enthusiasm I hear you Angels supposed to have?" Abdul's
smile reminded her how brown were his remaining teeth. "Do I have to report some
reluctance?" he grinned cruelly.
Her brain snapped out of its spasm. What was she thinking of! He was
just flesh and blood, now matter how repulsively arranged. And her life - and
Penny's - depended on her taking him into her arms - and legs. Repressing a
shudder she moved seductively towards him.
Taking a deep breath she bent low over his gross, seated figure, so her
cleavage practically spilled out. Stroking the back of his head she kissed his
grizzled cheek closing her eyes as her lips edged towards his mouth. His jowls
were greasy from food spillage, his stubble scratching her soft cheeks.
"Please may I f--k you," only just in time did she remember the
required greeting, reluctantly brushing his thin lips with her own, scarcely the
same woman who he had first kidnapped just a week or two ago.
"I not sure I want to," he chuckled. "You slow in showing proper
respect. We visit some of your friends first, before they leave here, perhaps
they remind you of duties. Then I decide about you." Whilst she flushed at
the rejection from such a beast, he fastened her wrists up between her shoulder
blades, making her open her mouth wide, pushing a ball gag within her stretched
jaws, fastening the cord behind her neck. He then put her on a leash and led
her down the corridor to knock on another door. After putting his grizzled
head around the door and following a brief exchange of conversation he ushered
her in with a hand on her swaying bottom.
"Down." Abdul made Rosemary kneel obediently beside him like a pet dog.
Within the semi-dark room she saw Carol standing suspended by her
wrists, her arms pulled up high enough so that her toes were just able to touch
the ground to take her weight. A pair of blacked out goggles prevented her from
seeing her prospective owner who stood admiring her, chatting with Miss Wang.
He was a regal-looking Arab lad, probably still in his teens, someone who was
probably younger than Carol's own son. Her body was taut, trembling arc of
trepidation, tongue nervously licking her lips, as the Chinese girl idly stroked
her captive's sleek thighs. Her hateful voice sounded like a car salesperson as
she assessed the bound woman's charms.
" I hope you find her just as expected, Sire - from photos and videos of
her. She mature but well preserved and quite docile now, she not hurt you. She
had children," the yellow hands patted the flat plain of Carol's belly, "but it
no show. Please help yourself, feel her up."
The elegant brunette flinched as firstly Miss Wang's hands possessively
patting her thighs and bottom and then the client's fingers stroked over her.
Those hands seemed at first hesitant and inexperienced, however they soon
plucked up courage rudely poking prodding and pinching. They made her cry out
and twist under her unyielding bonds, stumbling from her pointed toes so that
she gasped as her whole weight momentarily jerked onto her arms as she tried to
twist away from the hot inquisitive fingers.
Crack!
"Ooohh," she gasped as Miss Wang's hand smacked across her cheek.
"Keep still bitch, illustrious client wish to feel you," she hissed.
Obediently now, she remained still her teeth bared as both of her
nipples were pinched and twisted in a vice-like grip, pulling her sensitive orbs
right up and out to cause even more pain.
Then the young lad's hands seemed to grow tired of causing pain and
instead they explored the fuzzy black felt mound of her sex. Brusquely Miss
Wang told her to open her thighs, adding to the pain of her stretched toes.
First stroking over the ripe plumpness of her sex lips, the fingers then
crudely poked straight up into her, twisting and turning, exploring both
orifices.
Carol had the humiliation of Miss Wang directing and positioning the
inexperienced fingers in her body, showing them how to tease out her womanly
passions. Slowly, possibly unwillingly at first, her body responded to the
intruding digits. She gave a frustrated jerk of her hips as the fingers
withdrew.
"She's quite a nice lady, all hot and sticky. I'll maybe take her, I've
never been allowed a pet before," the voice laughed.
Rosemary could imagine how Carol's mind must be reeling as she heard her
very future discussed by the client unseen beyond her goggles. How she must have
yearned for the goggles to be removed or briefly be lifted to allow her at least
a glimpse of her tormentor. That would give her just a clue as to his identity,
enabling her to at least see the person who had just explored her so intimately.
"Would you kindly release her and allow us a little time alone please,"
the voice asked, answering her silent plea.
"Surely," responded Miss Wang, "but if she at all disobedient someone
will deal with her. Remember that bitch," she added to Carol as she slackened
that dreadful pull on her victim's arms and released her wrists. The poor woman
stood blindly, uncertainly, jumping slightly at the loud bang of the door
closing behind Miss Wang.
"You may remove your goggles and then stand legs astride with your arms
folded behind you, between your shoulder-blades," the soft voice commanded.
Blinking with the return of light and vision Carol gasped saw the slim
Arab lad before her in traditional colourful robes. Then to one side she
glanced, blushing, at Abdul with Rosemary kneeling beside him on her leash.
Silent tears began tracking the older woman's face as she contemplated her fate.
Although young, the boy's unblinking black eyes held hers with a cruel
intensity.
"I believe I told you how to stand girl," he said matter-of- factly in a
soft, even voice.
Immediately Carol assumed the position, which automatically thrust her
generous breasts out towards him. As he slowly advanced gooseflesh broke out
over her shivering nudity. Then his small soft hands reached out to stroke the
soft underside of her orbs, the nipples immediately and involuntarily firming
up.
"You like being touched there girl?"
" I-I ... Yarrggh," Carol gasped as the fingers suddenly and cruelly
flicked one of those sensitive red buds.
Rosemary saw the control she exercised to prevent her folded hands
covering her jutting fruit but she managed to restrain herself. He now stroked
them again.
"Did that hurt girl?"
"Yes Sir."
"Whose tits are they?"
"Y-yours Sir," she sobbed the only possible response.
"Good, good, " he smiled. "And whose c--t is this?"
"Yours Sir." Carol gave the expected response as he began a slow crude
inventory of her body.
"A nice firm bum for a woman your age I should think, not too big, but I
like the way it wobbles when I shake it." A tear slowly formed in one of her
large eyes as the youngster humiliated her.
"They said you were a bit old, but you've got big tits and I like that,"
he purred, his hands now stroking over the silken flesh of her melons again.
"Shake them for me so they wobble." She shook her large thrusting bosoms before
his young amused eyes. "My parents rule Hassan, they're very rich and were
determined that I as an only child spend my whole childhood locked away from
others with my tutors learning, always learning, " he mused as he thumbed her
large protruding nipples. "Then suddenly they realised that my whole view of the
outside world and its experiences was confined to the pages of magazines and
videos. Thus, as a present on reaching my manhood, they told me I could have my
own pet girl. Someone mature enough to teach me other matters. I have read all
there is to read on such subjects but you will show me the reality."
Rosemary imagined the woman's shame, now nothing more than a sex toy for
a spoilt child! His hands were now stroking through her long hair and down over
the smooth curves of her bottom.
"You will keep your hands behind you and with your teeth, remove my
robes. I will lay on my back and you will sit astride me and f--k me. If I am
not satisfied I will tell that charming Miss Wang. Understood?"
"Yes Sir."
Carol hesitantly looked at Abdul and Rosemary, and the Arab youngster
followed her gaze.
"No worry, we go now I just show this one some alternatives," he flashed
an almost toothless smile. Rosemary's eyes were wide above her gag, trying to
say goodbye and good luck to Carol, before a tug on her leash made her rise and
she was led from the room.
--------------------------
In an adjoining room they found Lindsey knelt astride muscled ebony body
of a Negro. The long black erect flagpole of desire jutted up like a mast to
reach beyond her navel. Face flushed, she looked up as Rosemary was led in but
the large brute merely pointed to his erection. He then lay back, hands relaxed
under his head as he obviously enjoyed her attentions. Arching his back as she
knelt upright, raising her hips, he gasped as the wet heat at the join of her
thighs and the soft wisps of her curly hair tickled the tip of his penis.
Closing her eyes Obviously trying to ignore her audience, she carefully
positioned her splayed limbs, her head down so that the curtain of her dark hair
cascaded around her graceful sensuous face. Then, with a gasp from both of
them, she slid down onto him.
"Hmm ... 'dah' woman fits like a glove," the Negro winked at Abdul, "Now
work on it girl," he demanded of the Italian beauty.
He closed his eyes too as she began, her breasts bouncing wildly as she
rode him, pumping her loins eagerly up and down. Soon, the taut sinews of
Lindsey's thrown back neck and closed eyes were a testament to her own pleasure.
With a bowed head her soft lips were kissing his hard nipples, her hair tickling
his neck and face. Tightly grasping her breasts, black fingers encasing white
flesh, he pumped his lust up into her willing sex.
The tour of shame continued with Rosemary being led into a lighter room
where Mr Garth and the hideous observer, Mr Smith, sat relaxed on easy chairs.
Linda wearing only a small white pinafore and a black G-string over her lush
nudity served them tea.
"Don't forget our guest," Mr Smith instructed in his weedy voice,
totally ignoring the kneeling figure of Rosemary as Abdul was given refreshment.
"Now squat again with the ashtrays please," he told Linda.
Rosemary at first wondered why she winced and only gingerly assumed the
position before him, wobbling on the balls of her feet, arms out horizontally to
hold ashtrays in each hand. Then she heard the humming from between her thighs
splayed necessarily wide for balance and saw the slight movement under the black
line dissecting the oyster-like lips of her sex. It was not as she had assumed
a conventional G-string. Noticing the rapt expression on the blonde's shining
face, her rapid breathing, she guessed that a vibrator was doing its business.
"Don't lower them or I shan't let you come," Mr Smith ordered to correct
a slight wavering of the trembling arms. Rosemary, kneeling beside her, could
only offer wide-eyed sympathy for the blonde hairdresser as for ten long minutes
she bit her lips to control her feelings and maintain her unmoving posture.
"We'd better be leaving soon my pet," Mr Smith, patted Linda's head,
"but maybe Mr Garth would like to give you a going-away present as he is
probably better in that department than me," he gave a sickly chuckle.
Now her feelings of sympathy turned to envy. The Arab hulk pulled
Linda to her feet, sliding down her damp G-string which had kept in place a long
black rubber vibrator - now coated in her love juices. Without further ado he
bent her over the coffee table, kneeling to take her from behind whilst her
blonde heaä rested in Mr Smith, her new owner's, lap. His weedy hands held
those of Linda, now contorted into rigid talons of orgasmic lust as Mr Garth so
expertly pumped his length into her dripping sex.
"Mmm, aaaahhh, yeeeees," her cries still echoed in Rosemary's ears as,
unseen by Linda, she was led from the room.
Finally, Rosemary was almost relieved to be led back to the privacy of
the room with Abdul and her bonds removed.
"You see what friends doing before they leave. I not sure I still want
to though," he chuckled. "Maybe I report lack of enthusiasm to Mrs Leilla or
Miss Wang? They teach you lesson." Rosemary gulped in dread at the thought.
"Show wares first and I decide."
She was crimson with both shame and rage at the games he was making her
play but now quaking with terror that she might be punished rather than going on
to her destiny - and hopefully find Penny. Running her hands slowly over her
body, cupping her breasts, she removed her dress, down her waist to slide it
teasingly over her bottom, wiggling it at him.
"Please, I-I want you, I want to f-k you hard," she breathed with as
much lust and enthusiasm as he could muster.
With the overload of sensations washing over it, her brain threatened to
revolt. She was standing naked, trying to entice an old, ugly Arab creep,
someone who she would normally cross the road to avoid in case he begged her for
money or simply touched her.
"Show me first little girl. Show me how many fingers you can take; your
fingers." He spoke softly settling back in his chair.
The thought of playing with herself before anyone normally turned her
off; it was an intimate act with her imagination. Now, before him, the concept
positively revolted her. How she hated the smug look on his fat face, his
tongue greedily licking his lips. Yet there was no choice, she had to come
through this, find Penny, survive and win.
Somehow fixing what she hoped was a seductive smile on her face, her
fingers began trailed through her soft down whilst her hips swayed from side to
side. She slid them between her sex lips, rubbing up against the sleeping bud.
Desperately thinking of Damien, Miles and Mark she tried to obtain some
lubrication. Managing to get two fingers just inside her lips, bending them,
she gave the impression of them sliding up and down, deep in and out.
" No enough. I think I want three," he insisted, " and I want to see
them. Bend over with back to me, legs apart."
The game was up. Rosemary winced as she bent over and had to thrust
three of her own fingers into herself.
"Hmm," she changed her gasp into a moan of pleasure as she pushed them
deep into her sex and began pumping slowly in and out. Head down, hair
cascading around, she looked back between her own spread legs, past her fingers,
moving so disgustingly, seeing his leering face.
--------------------------------
Huh, huh, huh," she grunted like the animal she had become in time with
his brutal thrusts.
Indeed she was little more than an animal. He had her kneeling on all
fours, clasping her against the rolls of wobbling fat which was his belly, with
a hand crushing her swinging breasts, slimy loins slapping against her clenching
bottom. His horrible, obscene penis slid in and out, filling her. It was just
lucky that he couldn't see the disgust, rage and shame etched into her beautiful
face as she ostensibly rutted willingly with him, her hips pumping urgently to
get the deed over with.
She shuddered as he swelled within her, drooling against her neck,
feeling him begin to quiver and groan. His thrusts became more urgent and
deeper, and so her fake moans.
"Ah, ah, ah," she jerked in unison with him. "Hmm, so big, strong, f--k
me hard, please, I'm coming," she repeated the words drilled into her.
They worked. His hot, moist hands tightened painfully, cruelly over her
orbs as he jetted and jerked into her whist she screamed her fake orgasm against
the floor, her eyes wet with tears of self-pity as his flabby body pressed
obscenely against her.
----------------------------------------------------------
After glancing rapidly around in the darkness of the early hours of the
morning the hooded figure carefully eased back the door lock of Damien's hotel
suite, which was set in a single floor annex alongside the main hotel. The Arab
man's otherwise silent entry was spoilt by the opening door tipping over a tray
propped against it but rather than running and thus possibly attracting
attention he froze like a cat. The hard glinting eyes beneath the mask blinked
several times to accustom themselves to the darkness of the room, alert for any
signs of movement. However, after waiting patiently silent and still for a full
minute his eyes gradually made out the unmoving bulge under the sheets of the
double bed.
The intruder didn't know the reason for him being asked to kill the
Western man in the hotel room, but a glance at the label on the suitcase told
him he had the correct room and quarry - Peterson! He didn't even know the man
who had paid for it to be done. It was better that way with anonymity on both
sides - just an impersonal task. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he
decided that now was a good enough time to earn his fee, the man was obviously
not going to stir. At first his hand closed over the butt of the gun in his
pocket then he decided that as his victim was asleep he could rely on other
means. As if by magic the knife blade appeared in his hand as he crept on the
balls of his feet to the bed and, aiming for the centre plunged the knife down
once, twice, three times into the reclining shape, feeling its keen blade
cutting through all resistance.
CHAPTER 17
Now it was Rosemary's turn, she was being led to meet her new owner.
Wearing just her short white Angel dress, her wrists were fastened behind her
and a silken sack had been pulled down to her shoulders totally covering her
head to render her blind and unrecognisable. Beneath the hood a rag filled her
mouth, secured with a black strap to gag her. She had thus been transported
from the training camp having to lie face down in the back of a windowless van.
Throughout the trip her feelings surged from elation to fear. What if, after
all this time, she wasn't to be with Penny? There were many observers
interested in having an Angel on parole. Would she have to endure another agony
of waiting, hoping to hear something of her sister? Yet she just couldn't take
any more of this. She'd just have to summon help today, hoping that someone
might know her sister's whereabouts.
Miss Mitzie's firm grip on her arm and the pull of the golden leash
around her throat guided her bare feet over the carpeted floors. She was
momentarily halted for a door to be opened ahead of her and then ushered within.
"Your new property Sir," announced the Negress as if discussing a new
washing machine. "You have I know paid the fee and I gather your instructions
were for us to just deliver her here without making any direct contact with you
to maintain your anonymity. So I'll just leave her on the floor as requested
and let myself out. She's still trussed up and will cause you no problems, so -
all yours."
Although Rosemary's heart began to beat faster in anxious trepidation
she also felt excited. She had that morning been told that her new owner had
selected her some time ago. It was with almost a sense of pride that she
realised the extent to which someone desired her, and the lengths they had gone
to possess her. Her doubts during the journey temporarily dimmed. Her women's
intuition told her that at long last she might be getting close to Penny?
Indeed, as she drew ever closer to her destination her thoughts turned more to
her sister as if the bond between them was amplified by a lessening of distance.
Miss Mitzie had tucked her ankles under her bound wrists to render her
just as immobile as on the day of her first capture. Then she heard her leave,
closing the door behind her.
She was helplessly sightlessly bound awaiting her fate. Eventually she
heard new, heavy footsteps and her stomach flip-flopped in nervous anticipation.
Although hands released her confined ankles, they left the sack over her
head and her wrists bound and, without a word, led her by the chain around her
neck into another room. She felt her pinioned wrists being dragged up behind
her back by some pulley in the ceiling she guessed until she was bent right
over, the sack still firmly over her head preventing her seeing.
"Ah," she yelped in fear, trembling as she felt a knife slide down her
dress, brutally cutting it off, stripping her naked, but leaving her still
hooded and gagged.
"Hmm, very good," a voice commented, patting her flanks as if she was no
more than a farmer's cow. "OK Pixy, give her six with the cane on her arse to
welcome her."
"Yes master."
Rosemary's heart raced. Although not the wild and fun loving voice she
remembered, the low, servile response could only be her Penny. Her fuddled
brain also tried to cope with where she had heard the name, 'Pixie,' before.
Then, with gritted-teeth fury she recalled the inscription on Miss Wang's whip.
Another thought tugging at her was the vaguely familiar voice giving the order?
Then she heard a movement behind her.
"Paaaaggh," she could only grunt pitifully under and unintelligibly
through the gag and hood.
Desperately she clenched her buttocks. Her own sister was going to beat
her. If the gag hadn't been filling her mouth, denying movement of her tongue,
she would have begun rubbing the tooth immediately. Then all further rational
thought was denied her.
"Hrghhh."
She screamed through the gag after the thin whistle heralded the kiss of
thin wood across soft flesh, amazed at the strength in her sister's arm. Maybe
Penny too now took a secret delight in inflicting rather than receiving pain?
However, before considering anything else she must absorb and deal with the
reality of the blazing agony across the taut flesh of her buttocks. She had to
concentrate her energies in controlling the pain and preparing for the next
stroke.
Sobbing after Penny's final lash had curved into her, making her bottom
flesh burn and throb agonisingly, that almost familiar voice returned.
"Good girl Pixy, assume the position before the new arrival please."
Rosemary gasped, blinking as the hood and gag were removed from her wet
face to reveal Penny standing before her, hands on head, mouth wide and tongue
sticking rigidly out. Although creased in pain, Rosemary's face brightened into
a rapturous smile of greeting. In contrast, her young sister's pretty mouth
gaped wide in amazed shock before crumpling as she realised that she had just
beaten her elder sister! Then, at a shout and a look from her master she
quickly controlled herself, sticking her tongue back out and remaining immobile.
It was, thought Rosemary, so good to see Penny again and her looking so
fit, well and undeniably beautiful. Her tears of pain from the beating changed
to tears of pleasure that they were at last together. Her long and painful quest
was over. It was however distressing to see Penny in such demeaning
circumstances, naked, tongue ridiculously protruding, so subservient and
frightened - just like herself she realised with a shock. Still, all of that
was nearly over now. Penny would think it odd to see the joy in her face after
having just been so severely caned. Then Rosemary's triumph vanished, her owner
had strolled into her vision and she saw his face.
"Yes my dear," purred Miles smiling at her own shock, "we meet again. I
am your owner - you and your charming sister both now. I wonder how many times
you have been tempted to rub your tongue over that useless bug I put in your
mouth - your lifeline," he laughed. You went through everything pinning all
your hopes on that tooth, enduring more, waiting for the right moment. I told
my colleagues not to 'find' it or tell you we knew about it. Activate it now,"
he laughed as her tongue worked, "it will do you as much good as shouting. You
though are now a true slave, my dear woman. Not for you a short term contract
and then the option of release, I shall break the rules and keep you for good,
both of you." I've rented this house for a week under a false name, just as I
did when I bought little Penny. By the time anyone knows what's going on -
I'll have moved on again, the strange anonymous purchaser will have vanished,"
he smiled. "I am of course part of the Lavery Organisation," he explained with a
self-satisfied smirk, " The English recruitment officer if you like. I've
already introduced my wife, Carol - Slapper, to the organisation and now you and
your sister."
"You bastard. Oh, please, please, no," Rosemary sobbed pitifully.
Miles smiled at the utter shock on her face as the pieces fell into
place before resuming.
"Your sister fell neatly into our trap with the assistance of friendly
businessman and a missing cheque. And it didn't take her long to get on the
wrong side of our friendly local policeman over here. She is so beautiful and
proud that I decided to have her for myself - even though that is against
Lavery's rules."
As he spoke he stroked Penny's still-shocked face, weighing her ripe
young breasts. Rosemary was amazed at how the youngster, who would normally
have punched anyone who tried that, now meekly endured, even proffered her
breast fruit for his attention. Only the twitching of her face displayed her
true feelings and the control she had to exercise.
"When I saw the routine surveillance photos of her family," Miles
continued to boast, "I knew that I wanted you as a matching set with her.
However, I guessed I could only do so by encouraging you to rescue your sister.
No-one in Lavery knew I had secretly bought Penny but I convinced them to
ensnare you too; thus you were targeted. My people in England followed you and
I thereby ensured that I met you at the Lavery office. Again, when I received
word from your tail that you were nearly at the Foreign Office the following day
I just walked in one door, apologised to the doorman, and walked out again -
bumping into you on the step! Then we went to the hotel room I'd booked
earlier. The only genuine thing was my mobile phone number, but I have
naturally cancelled that now! I hadn't initially counted on your husband flying
out with you - I naturally know what he looks like and spotted him at the
airport. I told Lavery that you were a special case, a security risk but
worthwhile, and we used the quick change routine in an empty villa used to cover
such eventualities."
Miles snapped his fingers at Penny, ignoring the crestfallen Rosemary.
"You may untie her and then I'll have you both standing facing each
other please in the correct slave position which applies here. One of my rules,
as you already know Pixy, is absolute silence. So although you two probably
have a lot of catching up to do with gossip you will both be severely thrashed
if you exchange so much as a single word. Understand?" he snapped giving both
sets of buttocks a slap which cracked like a pistol shot in the hollow confines
of the house in which they stood.
"Yes master," came the low-voiced response from the two nude sisters
together at last.
Following her sister's lead Rosemary copied her until they stood facing
each other a metre apart, hands on head, legs and mouths wide open, tongues
protruding. Her emotions were in utter turmoil. She felt crushed, defeated,
her hopes and plans for rescuing Penny and herself utterly dashed. Large tears
rolled down both girls' beautiful faces as they silently contemplated their
predicament. Rosemary knew they were so similar, their bodies, faces,
beautiful blonde hair, just with Penny's longer - midway down her back. Even
their looks of anguish were nearly identical.
"That's good you're just as good as I imagined, Trixie," Miles regarded
his latest acquisition. "Mouth open wider, legs further apart," he instructed
until she was positioned to his satisfaction as blatantly exposed as Penny. "I
require you to assume that position as a reminder that you are mine and have no
secrets from me, nothing concealed, even in your mouth."
He lifted her full sensuous lips to peer at her teeth as if inspecting
an animal, painfully pulling her tongue, weighing her breasts, smiling as she
squirmed under his touch. Then he casually removed his clothes, laughing,
slapping his thigh.
"Come here girlie, on all fours like a little doggie," he ordered.
Hate and fury initially boiled through Rosemary's trembling body as she
regarded his leering figure. She felt ashamed at her previous lustful thoughts
about him, about how she had wished that he would seduce her, thinking about his
body thrusting on hers!
"I understand your shock at seeing me my pretty and knowing that all of
your sacrifice and scheming has been for nothing. However, if you do not do
exactly as you are told, right now, both you and your sister will be flogged. I
have plenty of servants here with strong right hands to deal with you both.
Now come here to be f___ed please and you will use all of the new found skills
you will have acquired as an Angel at the camp. I want it all from you, your
body and spirit - just as I have already taken from your sister. Is that not so
girl?"
"Yes master," Penny's response was low, ashamed.
"And what is the most treasured gift you could have Pixy"?
"You m-my Master, and obeying you," she repeated the words which had
obviously been instilled in her.
"Now you may have been replaced though Dixie, at the very least you'll
have to share me with your sister. What do you think of that?"
"Wh-whatever is you will is my command master," Penny's even, modulated
voice concealed her true feelings before she again obediently stuck her tongue
out.
Rosemary guessed, from his gloating look, that it must be something else
again to have her crawl to him, her lovely boobs swaying softly. She had to
control the look of hatred in her eyes, which gradually replaced the confusion
and numbness as her hopes crashed around her. And, in addition, was the rigid
and equally beautiful figure of her young sister, whose tight bottom he casually
patted before lying down, awaiting his newest conquest.
She couldn't deny that the body before her was as lean and hard as in
her dreams. He was her master she realised - knowing she must accept that
bitter reality. It made her task somewhat easier. Physically he was a dream but
she had to deliberately shut down that part of her brain screaming rebellion and
hatred. She must concentrate only on the physical aspects as her soft lips
brushed and kissed his ears, and lips, delving into his mouth before working
their way down his neck to the nipples and flat hard belly. Her fingers sought
out the hot pulsing bud between the cheeks of his buttocks as her mouth worked
simultaneously on the throbbing root jutting towards her.
"On your back, hold your ankles behind your ears, I'll look at you
first" his orders were quite and utterly explicit - why need they be otherwise?
He feasted his eyes on the splendour of the dark pink oval moistly
pouting at him. Several times, kneeling between the satin softness of her
splayed thighs, he dipped his rigid manhood into the honey silkiness of her
exquisite womanhood. Then, whilst a finger explored her puckered entrance the
heel of his hand rubbed and pressed down onto her bud, the epicentre of her
pleasure making her writhe and gasp, toes curling.
He looked up at the figure of Penny standing to one side.
"Come around here and have a look Pixy; your sister's hot and ready for
it. Come, look at her."
Obediently, Penny regarded the spread intimacy of her older sister.
"Shall I beat her or f__k her? Tell me, which one."
" Oh, don't ? please don't beat her again, master," Penny whispered.
"What shall I do with her then, you know the alternative? Tell me loud
and clear," he insisted.
"F__k her master."
"You want me to f__k your sister?"
"Y-yes p-please master," Penny whispered.
"Louder girl, shout it out and keep repeating it until I finish."
"F--k her master. F__k her master," Penny shouted continuously as Miles
positioned Rosemary with impatient slaps to her thighs and breasts until she was
to his satisfaction - kneeling again on all fours on the floor. Still moist, he
slid his shaft deep between her cheeks and into the moist, gripping, fur-fringed
pouting cavity of her sex.
----------------------------------------------------------
"I'm glad you liked your f--k but I must give you some bad news I'm
afraid," Miles continued after he had taken Rosemary.
She tensed and unconsciously gripped his penis still embedded deep
within her warm moist sex from behind as she knelt nose to the floor, buttocks
up-thrust. It made his flaccid member stir within her velvet glove as he
reached to retrieve a newspaper cutting from his discarded jacket pocket and
thrust it under her nose.
"Don't move from your position, I may want to take you again in moment,
I can feel the old stiffness coming on again," he joked slapping a smooth thigh
as he heard her gasp whilst she read.
The cutting related news of a fire killing a tourist in his hotel room
with the body being burnt to a crisp. Damien's name and photograph hit Rosemary
between the eyes.
"I'm afraid it was a terrible accident," Miles explained trying to keep
a straight face. "Something must have caught fire in his room and your poor
husband's body was barely recognisable but luckily his papers were not too badly
scorched. At least he will not have to worry about you any more my dear, or you
about him - you belong totally to me now," he spat venomously.
As the kneeling blonde began crying her bottom jiggled delightfully,
unintentionally rubbing and squeezing his manhood, making him grow ever harder
within her. He obviously savoured the moment, f---king the wife of the man he
had arranged to be killed.
At that moment Rosemary knew that Miles had killed Damien and that she
was thus truly alone, she and Penny belonged solely to him. He was swelling
again within her. Her thoughts were in utter turmoil. Gritting her teeth with
shame and rage she knew however that she could do absolutely nothing except
allow herself to be taken again by Damien's murderer, like this - and in front
of the sister she had endured so much to rescue. She heard him laugh as he
clasped her breasts, which bounced with his thrusting movements just above the
floor.
Then, a sound made her look up, red eyes peering through a blonde,
matted curtain of hair. Simultaneously Miles too must have seen the figure step
from behind the curtains by the patio doors. The copulating couple both gasped
incredulously. She felt the penis shrink within her and, without thinking,
wanting to distance herself from her tormentor, she moved forward and stood up.
"Darling!" she exclaimed incredulously, one hand flying to her mouth and the
other to cover her bare breasts as, impossibly, she saw her husband Damien push
aside the curtain, a gun in his hand.
"I-I th-thought, the bastard said ... . He said you were... ."
"It's OK sweetheart the reports of my death were a little exaggerated,"
Damien said with a grim smile.
Damien's eyes briefly flicked over the beautiful figure of Penny who stood
similarly transfixed and amazed, still poking her tongue out. It was like
looking at a slightly different version of his wife; she was so beautiful. He
had often wondered over the years what she looked like without clothes and now
he knew. The younger girl's reactions, with her brother-in-law's unexpected
appearance, automatically and unconsciously reverted back to near normality. She
broke from the rigid hands on head posture she had been forced to adopt for the
last 30 minutes whilst having to watch Miles perform with her older sister. Her
hands now flew to modestly cover her bare breasts and pubic thatch.
"Get something on girls, those sheets there," he pointed to a bed,
"don't let this f---ing creep see any more. I'm getting you both out of here,
things are back to normal now."
Both men stood grim faced for different reasons as the two women were at
last able to cover their nudity by wrapping large white sheets around
themselves, a welcome return to normality. The elixir of joy and freedom
coursed through Rosemary's veins. Meanwhile, Miles unconsciously lowered a
hand to cover his shrinking manhood, still glinting with the juices of the wife
of the man who now held a gun on him.
"When I made some enquiries at the British Embassy," Damien continued,
"and they had never heard of you, Miles, I began to smell a rat," his gun never
wavered from it's level gaze at the sweating face of the other man. "They had
heard of the disappearances of various British and European women and were
investigating but Whitehall had never heard of you being part of the team. The
local police were hopeless, just as you no doubt knew they would, they just
didn't want to know; they had probably been paid well not to know. All I
succeeded in doing I guess is to stir things up enough for you to eventually pay
someone to finish me off and make it look like an accident. Before that, as I
was almost thinking of giving up a hopeless situation, I had a break. A package
was left at the hotel from someone at the camp where Rosemary was being held.
It showed.... disgusting, horrible photos of her doing ... things but it came
with a note saying how I should be on my guard against your paid assassin and
that, today, I would find Rosemary here at this time. After two sleepless
nights your man finally crept into my hotel room. He thoughtlessly cut up some
pillows I had rolled under the sheets, then I managed to dent his head with my
torch and borrow his gun. I could then concentrate on finding my wife."
Damien paused for a moment recollecting again the squalid colour photos
in the package. They had made him cry. In one his lovely Rosemary was touching
her toes naked before a grim-looking young Chinese girl wielding a cane. The
agonised look on his wife's tear-stained face and the vivid red stripes across
her tautly curved buttocks told their own story. They also showed her kneeling
between the spread things of another naked girl her tongue extended into the
girl's pink orifice as she looked up with wide anguished eyes at a Negress who
was obviously giving her direction. In another she lay on her back legs spread
to show all of her delicate secrets previously known only to him but there
spread before a leering Arab hulk who was descending on her with his huge brown
manhood standing out rigidly ahead of him. Further photos depicted her astride
a large Negro, seemingly riding him with abandon and also several showing her
seducing a grossly fat Arab in a prison cell. He saw her pulling wagons and
laying rails, toiling alongside other sweating naked bodies like a labourer
under a burning sun. The only one in which she wasn't naked showed her in a
ridiculous schoolgirl costume being caned humiliatingly by the harsh young
Chinese girl.
Damien started; the face of the Chinese girl was suddenly there in the
room with them, having silently entered from the far door. Dressed in a black
leather cat-suit, she looked just as harsh as in the photos. Now she also
carried a small gun - and it was pointed at him! The eyes of Rosemary and Penny
widened in horror as they too saw their tiny Chinese tormentor.
"So pleasant to meet Rosemary's husband at last," the young girl smiled
at her wide-eyed audience, "I am Miss Wang. Now, unless you drop gun
immediately I show just how accurate I am with mine - before we even have chance
to talk! I do think though you get my girls into bad habits." she said with a
cruel smile, " you must remember they mine not yours. Now drop gun, Mr Pearson,
no need for false name now, or I shoot Rosemary, or as we call her, Trixie.
With a clatter, Damien's gun fell to the floor - to be retrieved by
Miles.
"Western sluts," Miss Wang turned to the sisters, "how dare you cover
yourselves; strip naked this instant. I have to punish you both I see that.
Both will assume normal display position." From her gamut of expressions,
Rosemary's emotions were obviously on a roller coaster from hope to oblivion.
However, such was their obvious fear of the sadistic Chinese girl and their
training that wordlessly the two women, their new-found freedom so cruelly
snatched away again, complied with the order without hesitation. Penny
unwrapped the long sheet, losing probably the first covering she had worn in
this hateful place, and stood as she knew she must; naked, hands on her head,
legs astride and her mouth wide open with her tongue protruding to it's fullest
extent. Again she was a slave on display.
Damien's anger frustration was a knife in his belly as his wife followed
suit so that the two figures again, stood naked in identical poses staring
intently at only their young Chinese tormentor - thoughts of him now suppressed.
He suddenly and simply no longer existed for them. Their eyes widened as the
tiny girl stood between them, her hands curling around each slim waist, patting
each pair of magnificent buttocks with complete possession.
"We enjoy ourselves plenty. I bi-sexual," her cruel mouth suddenly
closed over Rosemary's, cupping her jutting breasts. She winked at Damien as
she deeply kissed his wife.
"Poor Damien so near yet so far," drawled Miles in mock pity. "You, or
your spy in the camp, didn't take account of my little friend here, Miss Wang,"
who again stood with her arms casually around each girl. "She lives with me, my
secret lover, and she will be your wife's new Mistress - as she is already for
her sister. We've been creaming off money from the Lavery people for ages now,
that's how I can afford this lifestyle and the slaves, but maybe now is the time
to quit while I'm ahead. Before we perform our vanishing act, however, we must
consider you Damien. I'm afraid there is no room for you in the equation and so
it's curtains for you my old son," Miles cocked the gun, making Rosemary gulp,
tears wetting her wide eyes.
"I think Mr Pearson a bit over-dressed first," Miss Wang smiled
sadistically, "and if we to dump him we no want any tell-tale identification do
we? Pixy you will remove his clothes. If you resist, Mr Pearson, I afraid your
wife be first to suffer."
Fear and frustration, mixed with an element of ashamed desire rose in
Damien as, with mute apology in her wide eyes, the nude young girl padded over
to her brother-in-law. With tiny deft fluttering movements she began
unbuttoning his clothing. He stood impotently rigid, scarlet-faced, as her cool
trembling hands stripped him before the amused eyes of Miles and the Chinese
bitch and also the red-rimmed eyes of his wife. Then those soft cool hands were
on his loins gently lifting his rigid manhood and tugging down his last covering
to leave him as naked as the others, and proudly erect.
"You show off before wife, not as big as she used to now though," teased
Miss Wang.
"You... ," began Damien fists clenched until Miles pointed the gun at
Rosemary.
"Better shut up Mr Pearson," suggested the Chinese girl. "Why you no
give him nice F-k, Pixy, while Master does same for Trixie" she continued, "give
him something to think about before he go on way."
"Oh what a splendid idea," exclaimed Miles, "I'll just watch Pixy
getting started with him and then I'll give Trixie another seeing to I think."
Damien groaned as the soft lithe body of Penny undulated against him.
Her body language was in contrast to the look of apology and shame and fear in
her eyes. He gasped as she straddled the root of his erection under her curly
thatch and began to rub his head against the soft lips of her sex, her face
buried against his heaving chest as she kissed his sharp nipples with a darting
tongue.
"Hold that arse my son, get stuck in there," urged Miles, "she's a real
hot number, likes a good screw, just like her sister," he chuckled cruelly.
Automatically, without really thinking, Damien reached out to hold the
smooth, flexing globes contracting under his touch as she thrust against him.
Then, standing on tiptoe, Penny eased his pulsing length into her, and her hands
grasped his shoulders as he slid fully into her tight velvet sheath. He looked
abstractly to see the hateful young Chinese girl stroking his wife's bare bottom
with the side of the gun whilst she still stood obediently rigid, hands on head.
"I First warm her up before you f__k her," Miss Wang declared putting
her own gun away and beginning to slap Rosemary's firm buttocks.
However, several things then happened at once which were just a blur to
Damien. The Chinese girl had moved away from her slightly to pick up a wicked
looking whip. Rosemary, seizing the moment had found it within her to break her
pose and grasp the handle of a cane lying at her feet, viciously swinging
against Miles' wrist knocking aside the gun. Then she flung herself at Miss
Wang as the Chinese girl scrabbled to retrieve her own gun again from her bag,
her pink limbs contrasting with the youngster's black cat-suit.
Before either Damien or Miles could claim the other weapon a huge Negro
with a touch of the oriental in his looks silently appeared in the room. He
stamped one foot on the gun and kicked Miles in the belly with the other.
Everyone froze as he picked up the gun and addressed his stunned audience.
"So, I've flushed you out at last, Miles. We knew someone was taking
our money but not who. We had our suspicions about your luxury lifestyle and it
wasn't too hard to suspect that you were the mystery slave buyer. First one
girl and then the other. I had to use you as bait I'm afraid my dear Mrs
Pearson," he shrugged at Rosemary. " You," he looked at Damien," I used as the
catalyst to flush him, and whoever was helping him, out of the woodwork. We
knew that someone must be helping him but not who. I had no idea it was Miss
Wang. My name is Mr Sampson by the way, I run the Lavery Road operation. I
learnt of your intended killing, arranged by Miles, I have spies too, and sent
the package to warn, motivate and point you in the right direction. Then I
simply had to follow behind Rosemary's 'delivery' and hope he freely disclosed
to you that he was the villain of the piece. I needed evidence in order to, er,
retire him. Normally you two would simply disappear off the face of the
earth," he addressed both shocked girls. "However, you have been instrumental in
clearing out this vermin and so I am prepared to let you both, and Mr Pearson,
go so long as this all remains our little secret. Meantime, I am afraid that
Miles and his little friend, Miss Wang, will not be so lucky. "
The rest was as if a dream. Damien watched as the tough- looking
Negress from the photos arrived. She held a gun, before which some Arabs, who
he presumed were the house servants, scuttled with their hands held high in the
air.
Miss Mitzie smiled coldly at the two slaves and Damien before, without a
word, helping Mr Sampson take away Miles and his Chinese mistress to an unknown
fate.
Perhaps later Damien would regret making no protest about the shameful
treatment that Rosemary and Penny had received at the hands of Sampson and his
cronies but for the moment he was just so grateful that they were both safe.
Also he was keen to get back to the British Embassy where replacement travel
documents to get them out of the country awaited the three of them.
The black core of hate in Rosemary's heart, which had slowly grown over
these last weeks, was only now slowly melting. It had surged uncontrollably
when the evil Chinese cow was about to take away from her everything she had
ever loved. She would forever cherish the look of terror and surprise replacing
the girl's normal self-confident smirk when she had leapt at her. Squeezing her
scrawny throat, she knew was fulfilling the ambition of so many Angles. She
would also treasure the look of fear and rage in the eyes of both Wang and Miles
as they were tightly bound and placed in sacks - just like their victims.
She was simply too stunned from her so recent emotional switchback ride
into and out of hell and back again and the achievement of her aim of finding
Penny to worry much further for the moment. Joy filled her heart. At last
carefree, she and Penny found some clothing in Miles' house and dressed. Her
feelings of guilt about her fellow Angels were eased when Damien assured her
that, although the whereabouts of the camp wasn't known, the British Embassy
would act to negotiate the release of her colleagues. Maybe they would turn a
blind eye to Lavery's continuing activities - but at least she had made a
difference, and could hopefully save her friends.
A part of her realised though that things could, never be quite the same
again. She was a new or at least a different woman, having discovered elements
of a exciting sensuality and freedom within slavery. She had risked everything
to find Penny and Damien likewise had found them both. Both sisters owed so
much to him, and indeed to Mr Sampson. Indeed she had to resist the urge to
prostrate herself at the feet of both men. She couldn't wait to get Damien
alone and await his instructions.
No, things would not be the same again.
THE END
MARTIN HUGHES
