BDSM Library - Harvest Of Tears - The Organization Series 4

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 7

By slave ruthie - with Mistress Ranai's guidance

(The scene was set - everything was prepared. The actors took their places. But two did not know the plot and one of these had no idea beyond a vague sense of unease that her life was changing - and it wasn't for the better...)

"And who, Charles, is this?" Rosario held out her hand to the strikingly handsome young man who was talking to Alexa's master in the lobby.

"Rosario, may I introduce doctor Gérard ________. He is one of our masters from the Organization's Swiss Medical Center near Basle."

Charles watched Gérard take her proffered hand but instead of politely shaking it, his younger colleague bowed to brush her fingers with his lips. "Enchanté, mademoiselle."

When Gérard stood, Rosario smiled. "My goodness - I had the idea your Organization was run by stuffy old men and you were the only exception, Charles! Tell me, doctor - or may I call you Gérard? Good, thank you. Are you here in your medical capacity or as a master?"

"Both, mademoiselle..."

"Oh please use my first name, Gérard - I'm sure Charles can vouch for you! Well, well - Basle, you say? I spent my teenage years at a convent school in Lucerne. My poor parents sent me there in the faint hope that I would return as a refined young lady. But by the time I was expelled, the poor nuns were convinced I was the spawn of Satan himself!" She spread her arms and shrugged.

"Vraiment...Rosario." Gérard glanced at an enigmatically amused Charles and raised a quizzical eyebrow. This charming, forthright young woman was completely different from what he had expected - she was neither a spoilt brat nor an immature, shallow ornament. Rosario had a sophisticated yet completely unpretentious air about her. Gérard couldn't help staring at his hostess either - Charles' new friend looked simply gorgeous. A long figure-hugging dress of black fabric embroidered with arabesques of the same color outlined her body. Her heavy dark hair was piled up on top of her head and held there with a comb. In each of her ears a single, square cut diamond caught the light.

Charles cleared his throat to break the lengthy silence between the young man and woman who he suspected would have happily continued smiling idiotically at one another for the rest of the evening. "Gérard has become quite the expert at 'speed breaking' a new slave. I thought he might assist you with young Maria should you be interested in watching him at work. Is the girl still working in the kitchen? Does she suspect anything?”

Rosario laughed, as the spell was broken. "My people are ready, Charles. The equipment you kindly provided has been set up in the gymnasium - you certainly have an intriguing notion about what constitutes healthy exercise! I'm assured Marie knows nothing of our plans and her room has been prepared. So...tell me, has my ward fully recovered from her workout?"

"Alexa has had a little nap and a shower - Guy will be bringing her along shortly. Well then, shall we proceed?" He noted with relief that Rosario had linked her arm through Gérard's as they wandered into the conservatory. At least now he would be spared the embarrassment of having to turn down her advances.

Guy was already standing in the center with Alexa's leash in his hand. The naked, kneeling girl was very securely fettered as he had requested, with her wrists locked to the sides of a chastity belt, her legs restrained by ankle and thigh spreaders, and with a full head muzzle to prevent any repeat of the earlier biting incident.

Rosario strode directly across and took the leash from Guy who left the room. "Charles, isn't it time for my ward to be fed?"

Alexa looked up and tried to work out what was going on - there was something odd about Rosario. She seemed slightly tense and distracted. Then the third person, who she hadn't seen properly earlier because her master had been in front of him, finally came into view. Alexa couldn't help herself. She gave a tiny, hoarse gasp and repeatedly clenched her cuffed hands in excitement. He slowly turned to look in her direction and smiled - it was master Gérard! But that meant...where was Nadine? Alexa eagerly pressed her muzzled face against Gérard's hand - she couldn't kiss his Master's Ring as the broad leather strap holding the penis gag inside her mouth covered her lips. Gérard ruffled her hair but he looked so sad when he noticed her peering around, obviously in search of her dear sister-slave. Why had he stopped smiling? What was wrong?

"She does not know, Gérard. I never told Alexa what happened at New York Center while she was surviving outside." Alexa looked up at her master, suddenly apprehensive and desperately wanting to know what he had avoided saying...but also desperately afraid of hearing awful news.

Rosario sat, curled herself on a deep, Cordoba leather-covered sofa and tugged gently but firmly on Alexa's collar. "My ward is not the only one who would like to find out what you two are shying away from. Come along, gentlemen - it isn't polite to keep a lady in the dark."

Gérard went to look through the conservatory windows at the illuminated fountains playing on the ornamental lake. Charles subtly motioned to Rosario who pulled Alexa closer in response. "Rosario, Gérard's slave - Nadine - was found dead from what appeared to be simple heart failure in our New York Center."

Rosario felt the naked slave at her feet begin to tremble. She lightly placed her fingers on Alexa's bare shoulder. Instinctively, the girl pressed her head against her hand. "I'm very sorry to hear of your sad loss, Gérard, but you said 'appeared', Charles - why? What really happened?"

"An autopsy discovered that Nadine had been held down with such force that her ribcage was cracked and she had been injected behind her ear with sufficient Digitalis to cause massive cardiac failure. We suspect that she was another of Miller's victims but we have no idea why she was killed." By this time Alexa was rocking back and forth with her head bowed. He knew she was sobbing but his mute slave could make no sound. That BASTARD, he thought. Even in death, Miller’s deeds still tormented Alexa.

Gérard strode across and knelt by the distraught Alexa. "Thank you for your sympathy, Rosario - I still miss her terribly." He reached out to cradle the shaking girl. "And I suspect this little slave somehow managed to avenge my poor Nadine and all the rest of Miller's victims." He stroked Alexa's head. "I think you did cause that vile murderer to fall to his death, didn't you little Alexa?" Much to her master's and Rosario's amazement, she nodded through her tears. "I thought as much. Charles, my very good friend, your slave has my eternal gratitude and respect."

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Charles looked at Rosario who was staring down in amazement at his slave being cuddled and comforted by Gérard. "You see why I will not share her, Rosario? I am so proud of you, my Alexa! Master Stephen was right - you are one of the best slaves it is possible to own."

Rosario smiled and stroked Alexa's hair while Gérard sat down. "Well! It seems I've misjudged you twice over, little slave. At first I thought you were a rather pathetic weakling until your master told me how you protected my uncle Armando from his attackers...and now we hear you took out that predator, Miller, single-handed! My grandfather was right to adopt you into the Family - you've certainly earned your place here." She briefly rang a tiny bell before returning it to the table by her sofa. "Our special guest will eat now, Alfonso - fetch Maria to serve her."

The servant, who had appeared almost as soon as the bell stopped ringing, looked down at the chained and muzzled naked girl with tears quietly trickling down her face. Then he smiled. "Si, padrona Rosario." Alfonso took out a handkerchief and lowered himself down on one knee. “Per favore, padrona?” Rosario nodded. Carefully, he dabbed the moisture from Alexa's eyes and whispered, "Schiavo bene...schiavo bene." He rose and left the conservatory.

"You seem to have made a friend of Alfonso, my dear. Unusual, considering his preference before we took him in was for gutting hookers on the Lower East Side with a filleting knife." Alexa shuddered and looked desperately up at her master who raised a finger, cautioning her to be still. Her dear friend and savior, Gina, had worked the streets in the same district where the servant had hunted his prey! "My late father was furious when he found out who was destroying our Family's business assets and ordered his execution. But I persuaded my grandfather that while we could easily replace the livestock, a good knife-man was harder to find...and Alfonso has proved himself to be very skilled in that regard ever since." She pulled Alexa closer and toyed with her hair. "Perhaps he recognizes the qualities of another professional. After all, your slave has killed at least twice to our knowledge, Charles."

When Alfonso returned, he was followed by an obviously unhappy Maria carrying a silver tray. She avoided looking at Alexa, waiting instead for one of them to indicate who wanted to be served. Rosario spoke sharply at the girl, noting her unease with satisfaction. "What are you waiting for?"

Maria's lower lip trembled. She hated wearing the stupid, humiliating maid's outfit that made all the men leer at her partially exposed breasts, she missed her friends and family, and she wanted to go home. But she hated most of all being ordered about by that Italian-American BITCH. "S'il vous plâit, mademoiselle..."

"It’s not for us, Maria, it’s for the slave. Put the tray down on the floor.” Rosario noticed how Gérard was carefully assessing every movement and reaction of the young maid.

Maria didn't even want to look at Alexa again, let alone go near the girl while they were watching. It was so degrading - she was naked and her hands were locked in cuffs on the sides of a metal strap around her waist. The strap was padlocked at the front to another metal band that went down and under between her thighs! Her head was stuck in a harsh-looking leather harness that completely covered her mouth. Maria followed the leash from the helpless girl's collar to Rosario's hand and shuddered with revulsion. However, deep down she knew she was secretly fascinated and envious...but that was so wrong and she felt terribly ashamed of her wicked thoughts.

"Well? While you are gawping, Alexa's food is getting cold." The mixed expressions on her unwilling maid's face were not lost on Rosario. She observed as Maria reluctantly obeyed and stepped closer, eyes riveted on the kneeling slave’s body, so tightly restrained and exposed. She was going to savor every moment of this girl's utter humiliation and submission.

Maria woodenly bent forwards to set the tray down in front of the girl everybody was calling a 'slave'. But that was impossible. There was no such thing in this day and age. The girl must be a prostitute in some kind of kinky bondage game. She couldn't actually be a real slave...could she? Maria couldn't help staring at her pierced nipples and glanced up only to find the girl looking directly into her eyes. "Please, h-how is she supposed t-to eat..."

"Obviously, you must help the slave." Maria jumped at the deep voice of the younger man sitting behind her and the way he deliberately emphasized the word 'slave'. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire - because of the maid's outfit's obscenely short hemline, he had a full view of her black knickers, suspenders and stockings! She immediately crouched and tried to pull the dress down to cover her backside. "You need to unfasten both the buckles on either side of her jaw." Maria swallowed nervously as she struggled to free the stiff leather straps. Inches from of her face, the leash dangled, held in the hand of the mistress of the house. When the front of the harness was loose, Maria gasped in shock as she pulled away the gag and saw the obscene plug emerge from the girl's lips - it was shaped exactly like the erect tip of a man's...of a man's...NO! She mustn't even THINK about it! It was DIRTY...but why did she want to touch it?

Maria removed the lid from the hot tureen and picked up a silver soupspoon to hand to the girl. Alexa stared down in confusion - there was no way she could reach her mouth while her hands were trapped in the cuffs. "You are just going to have to feed my slave yourself, aren't you, Maria?" It was the older man on her left who had spoken. Ohh, this was AWFUL! She picked up the napkin and wondered how on earth to...ohh she simply COULDN'T do this. "Yes, use the collar. You wouldn't want to scald my slave, would you?" Maria sensed the threat in the man's voice and carefully tucked the starched white cloth behind the gold ring around Alexa's throat. With a trembling hand, she held the first spoonful up to the silent girl's mouth.

Alexa felt terribly sad. She couldn't take in the news about her dear sister-slave's cruel death. Ohh Nadine - why? She was one of the kindest, compassionate people Alexa had ever met. It wasn't fair! She looked up at her beloved master Charles who slowly nodded back. He knew how much she was shocked and hurt by the dreadful revelation. He pointed to the spoon. Food was the last thing on her mind. He wanted her to eat - she would have to try. Alexa reluctantly opened her lips and tasted the soup. Something familiar...the flavor...she looked up at Rosario in confusion.

"Don't you like your Minestrone, Alexa? It's from a new range of authentic Italian dishes made to traditional recipes." Rosario looked at master Charles. "We are not usually in the habit of serving our guests anything other than the best of home-made meals but this is a special case. I have invested some of my ward's trust fund in a new food processing business. We've called it 'Lucia's Kitchen’ in memory of uncle Armando." Rosario frowned at the look of pained grief on the girl. "I thought you'd be pleased, not upset, Alexa."

Charles intervened. "Please give her time, Rosario - my slave has been through a lot lately." He softened his tone and whispered to Alexa. "Finish your soup then I'm taking you to my room, slave."

They watched her eat in silence. Each was lost in private thoughts while the anguished, weeping slave forced herself to swallow between mute sobs. Maria felt so sorry for Alexa but she had no idea what they were talking about - she also felt very afraid but didn't know why. Rosario pondered how lonely she felt and briefly envied her ward's intimacy with Charles. Gérard remembered his lovely slave, Nadine, and fought to control his rage at her loss. And as for Charles...he reflected upon how incredibly fortunate he had been to end up with such an excellent slave. Perhaps it was finally time to break the seal on the large envelope that Stephen had left for him to be opened only after his death. He had put it off out of guilt for not following his good friend's wishes by saving Alexa instead of executing her in the traditional way after Stephen had ended his own suffering.

The last spoonful was finished. Charles picked Alexa up like a child in his arms and carried her towards the door. "Please excuse us - it has been a long, traumatic day for my slave and I'm sure you two have many things to discuss. Good night."

Rosario dismissed Maria with an indifferent wave. "Go to your room. Now."

Maria curtseyed and hurried out, relieved to get away. Not a word of acknowledgement or thanks from that evil bitch! She simply used people and forgot about them the minute they were out of the door. And the way the other servants put up with it, only mentioning their ‘mistress’ in hushed voices, hurrying to satisfy her every whim! She would NOT be intimidated like the others. She would not suck up to that filthy rich woman, even if her life depended upon it!

"How long do you think it'll be before she's back down here?" Rosario went over to a drawer and removed her favorite red crop.

Gérard shrugged. "It depends how she reacts to what's been done to her room.” He silently admired Rosario’s poise, her graceful movements, the black dress of raw silk cut to flatter her stunning figure, the tiny light reflections in her jet hair.

And she knew he liked what he saw. She walked over to the drinks cabinet and turned around to study him from afar. She let her eyes travel over his well-shaped muscular shoulders, longing to feel them in her hands. His face still bore the handsomeness of youth, but around the eyes laughter and sorrow had left their traces. His hands spoke of the skill of his profession. He sat relaxed and calm, without fidgeting under her scrutiny.

Rosario gestured towards the selection of bottles and carafes. “Bourbon?” He nodded and murmured his thanks. "So...tell me about this 'speed breaking' of yours.”

"Well, the best way to introduce you to it would probably a practical demonstration. I am pleased to say that I have had very gratifying results. But like any method applied on humans it is neither completely predictable nor infallible. For example, from what I've seen, you would be extremely difficult to break with any lasting effect. I could certainly subdue you, Rosario.” She looked at him with cool, calculating eyes. "Oh I could easily overpower you and force you to obey me...but I would never be able to turn my back on you or trust you. I don't believe you would ever freely and totally submit like Alexa does. She has the most naturally submissive nature I have ever seen. You, however, would seek justice - and exact a terrible revenge, of course."

Rosario raised her glass. There was a predatory glint in her eye. "Of course...but I would bide my time. The saying is true you know - revenge is a dish that is best served cold."

He couldn't help smiling. "I'm sure your family has taken it to heart."

"Oh we've made it our motto." Rosario studied his face. "Gérard, this is my house. I could easily use a stun-gun on you, order my staff to overpower you, spike your drink.” Her guest, who was sipping his Bourbon, gave a small cough. "Before anybody would come looking for you, I could have you shipped to my home in Calabria. I could put you through so much pain that you would gladly swear to obey my every command for the rest of your life. But I could never relent in my physical control over you, because unlike various other people you would probably never freely and totally submit. If you saw a chance, you would also try to seek revenge – or simply run away."

"Touché," Gérard conceded, toasting her with his bourbon before ruefully adding, "I think I asked for that." He put his glass down and looked at her, inclining his head. She decided she liked this young man very much. He was self-assured but not arrogant and had not, so far, tried to impress or flatter her.

The door to the conservatory flew open. Maria stormed in, shaking in rage and distress. She confronted an indifferent Rosario. "Somebody, SOMEBODY h-has taken all my things! M-my room's been emptied and stripped BARE d-down to the floorboards! I've had ENOUGH - I'm SICK of your pathetic, silly games and the way you've treated me since I arrived, Rosario. I don't CARE what happens to papa if I leave. I'm going back to my family in Bruges and there's NOTHING you can say or do to stop me!" In her blind range, Maria failed to notice that Gérard had quietly closed and locked the door, trapping the young maid with them in the room.

Rosario slowly looked up and down the agitated figure before her. "Somehow I doubt you'd be particularly welcome at home."

"What the hell do you mean by THAT?" Maria's voice rose as she became increasingly hysterical.

"Oh nothing really, just that Interpol is keen to trace you and your lover regarding the multi-million dollar theft from your father's bank."

"Th-that's a LIE! I never stole...but I don't even HAVE a lover - I'm a vir...ohh you're making this up!" The young maid clenched her fists and stamped her foot in exasperated confusion.

"Anyway, it seems your poor father was found shot dead in his study shortly after you both vanished and your prints, Maria, were on the gun. The police think you shot him and fled after he discovered how you'd cleaned out several 'special' accounts belonging to some of the bank's more unsavory Middle Eastern clients." Rosario drained the last sip of her Bourbon. "They too, I understand, are eager to get their hands on you but this is definitely something to avoid. Once they have grown bored of raping and torturing you, they will kill you as slowly and painfully as possible. They start with the fingertips and toes, I believe..."

"NOOOOO!!!" Maria sank to the floor and covered her face in shock and disbelief.

"So it looks like you’ll get life for grand theft and for your father's cold-blooded murder - unless, of course, the disgruntled account holders find you first." Rosario sighed. "Here am I sheltering you at great personal risk, and this is how you repay me - oh dear!" Rosario stood. ''Now...what was that ridiculous nonsense about leaving, slave?"

Maria jumped up and ran shrieking to the conservatory door but the man called monsieur Gérard blocked her path, expertly twisting her hands up her back to force her down onto her knees. "Oww! My f-fingers! Let g-go PLEASE - you're HURTING me!" But he didn't release her. Maria wept bitterly in fright, at the shocking news that her beloved papa was dead, and at her awful predicament - she was hopelessly TRAPPED!

Rosario strode over until she was right next to the sobbing maid. She pushed the tip of her red leather crop under Maria's chin. The girl recoiled and tried to turn her head away but Gérard seized hold of her hair and forced her head back with one hand while bending Maria's fingers backwards with the other. Rosario rubbed the crop against Maria's trembling mouth. “Look at me.” Rosario’s voice was like ice. “Understand this. The choice is yours. Either you surrender yourself completely to me, or I abandon you to lifelong incarceration or, most likely, an agonizing death. If you seek my protection, you will be mine, to do with as I please.” She traced the crop across Maria’s breasts. “I will expect no less than absolute obedience at all times from my slave. There will be no law in your life but my will, no goal but to please me. Do you understand, Maria?” The girl gazed at her wide-eyed, unable to even nod with her head pulled back in Gérard’s grip. Rosario raised the crop and held it a finger’s breadth from Maria's trembling mouth. “If you accept becoming my slave, my personal property, kiss the tip.”

A moment’s silence in the room.

“Choose.” And, with an anguished cry, the girl pressed her lips to the end.

She raised her eyes, blurred with tears, and looked into the face of Rosario, her new owner.

Gérard leaned over and whispered in Maria's ear. "Now you know what Alexa feels like - you've envied her, haven't you Maria? That's why you went into her bedroom and touched her, didn't you, slave?" She wept bitterly as her shameful secret came out. "You were seen running into the bathroom by Guy."

"Actually," Rosario added, "I watched the video of the whole episode. You're very skilled at masturbating another girl for a mere virgin, Maria." The kneeling girl wailed as her indiscretion with Alexa was laid bare. "Matter of fact, you get pretty excited in your room on your own too."

Maria gaped up at her tormentor. "Y-you've b-been spying on me in my ROOM...mon Dieu!"

“Certainly. From now on I’ll have you sleeping with your hands locked away from your body, until you have fully understood that your sex belongs to your mistress. Your training starts tonight. Should you ever try to leave, or disobey me in any way, I’ll let you experience the downside of Arabian ‘hospitality’ and we’ll send what’s left of your body to the police. Do you understand?”

"Y-yes..."

Gérard bent Maria's fingers further backwards until she squealed in pain. "Show some respect, slave - say 'yes, mistress Rosario'."

"Y-yes, m-mistress...Rosario! OWWW!!!" Maria yelped as the horrible red crop made contact with her left breast.

Rosario laughed out loud. “Nice sensitivity there. Come on - that was only a tap." She lifted the hem of the maid's dress with her crop. "Open those thighs, slave - kneel straighter and clasp your hands behind your head." Gérard let go of Maria's fingers but did not release his grip on her hair. "Oh stop sniveling, for goodness sake!" Rosario sawed the end of the crop up and down along the line of Maria's cleft, making the distressed girl writhe as fabric of her knickers rode against her clitoris. "Hmm...I think it's about time we saw you properly. Strip!"

Maria trembled as the man tightly gripping her hair took hold of the clasp at the back of her neck and slowly unzipped the maid's dress from her collar to her waist. "No bra?" Gérard lightly scraped a fingernail down her spine, enjoying the way she shivered at his touch. "Do as your mistress commands you, slave." With tears cascading down her face, Maria pulled the puffed sleeves down her arms and let the skimpy garment fall to her knees. The man behind her forced her to stand up and step out of the pool of black satin around her feet.

"Much better." Rosario employed the tip of the crop again to correct Maria's posture. "You're quite a lovely slave - nice rounded breasts for such a young age, excellent complexion...I want this hair shorter, though. You've got a very pretty face and it's such a shame you hide it."

Gérard leaned forward and gently spoke in his captive's ear. "I'm going to remove my hand from your hair, slave. You understand there's no possibility of escape, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

"Good girl. Clasp your hands behind your head again and don't even think of disobeying us - you know you can't win and resisting will only make things worse. Now I'm going to remove your shoes, stockings, and suspenders..."

She cried. Maria sobbed pitifully but she didn't try to stop what the man was doing. First, her plain black leather shoes were unbuckled and pulled off her feet; his expert fingers freed her stockings from the suspender belt, opening the front clasp to remove it from her narrow waist; he was unbearably gentle as he slowly rolled each seamed stocking down her trembling legs until her only protection from complete nudity was the pair of black, satin knickers that matched her discarded dress.

Rosario traced the crop's end around Maria's right nipple. "I'm going to allow you to finish stripping yourself. I want you to pull down your panties very slowly, then stuff them into your cute little mouth."

"Uhh, I-I...ohh p-please, mademoiselle! D-don't m-make me...AIEEE!!!" She was totally unprepared for the stinging pain of the crop on her backside.

“Do as you’re told.” Rosario jabbed Maria just above her crotch with the crop. With a mournful sob, her victim hooked her fingers under the sides of her briefs and began peeling them down her thighs. "Slower. I want you to remember every second of this experience. This is the moment when you surrender your body to me.”

Maria stepped out of her last vestige of modesty and woodenly lifted her panties to her lips. "I-I c-can't...” Pleadingly, she looked at her new mistress.

Rosario said nothing, her face impassive. She had given an order; she expected it to be obeyed.

Maria closed her eyes but her tears wouldn't stop. She pushed the satin fabric between her teeth until her cheeks were wadded with the garment that smelled and tasted of her own crotch. Utterly defeated, Maria didn't struggle while Gérard secured her wrists in handcuffs behind her back. He smiled, said 'well done' and 'good girl' and sealed her gagged mouth shut with a strip of wide tape. But when her ankles were cinched in bracelets on a short chain, she began to get frightened again...although it was far too late to run!

Rosario accepted the red leather collar from Gérard with a smile. "Oh would you be so good as to...” But he had already yanked Maria's head back by her hair in readiness. “Thank you.” Rosario tugged the stiff leather strap through the buckle before clicking the padlock shut through the hasp. Attaching the leash that Gérard had conveniently carried in his suit pocket, Rosario gently stroked Maria's cheek and whispered "Come along, slave. You’re going to have a busy night."

*****

Master Charles firmly stretched the chain from Alexa's ankle cuffs taut before locking the end to the metal bed frame. He critically inspected her wide leather restraints, satisfying himself that, while she could barely move, the blood flow to her limbs was unrestricted. As he adjusted her thigh spreader to ensure it could not slip over her left knee, she twisted her blindfolded head and expectantly opened her mouth. "No, little slave - no gag tonight. You are too precious to risk choking in your sleep. I wouldn't want to lose you too." (Damn! Why on earth had he said that?)

Then he suddenly recalled the reason. Tomorrow would have been Laura's birthday. The wall of sorrow reared up again as he stood by the bed, quietly remembering his childhood best friend from their first day together at kindergarten, who had become his sweetheart then eventually his wife. (My Laura, with her laughing eyes, cheeky grin and her long, long braided dark hair...)

The other boys had taunted him and called him a 'filthy squaw-lover". But his widowed father had seen the love and tenderness growing between his solitary, lonely child and the pretty Blackfoot girl from the neighboring reservation. Her folk were from a proud nation but they had adopted his son as an honorary member of their great tribe. So Jean-Luc had readily given his blessing and even built a new house for the young couple. They had filled their modest, isolated homestead with love and joy...until tragedy struck before their first wedding anniversary.

Master Charles was so glad he had blindfolded his slave. That way she couldn't see his grief. Although nearly twelve years had passed since Laura's death, the pain of losing her - and his guilt over his failure to protect her - had not diminished. He wiped his stinging eyes and stroked Alexa's hair, thinking how much Laura would have liked this timid girl and taken her under her wing. Laura was the same with any wounded bird or animal and she would never leave a suffering creature untended. Alexa's harsh, brutal childhood and traumatic experiences in slavery would have broken his late wife's heart...

Alexa mouthed something but her voice was too soft to make out her words. Master Charles bent down and hooked a finger under his slave's restraint collar just below her left ear. Alexa shivered and he smiled on seeing again the peculiar effect down one side of her body. A solitary nipple had hardened and her skin was covered in Goosebumps but only on the left, never the right. "What did you say, little Alexa?" He put his ear closer to her mouth.

It seemed like his slave was attempting to talk for the first time in her life. In a faltering, tiny whisper, she managed to utter several words. "Please...may this...slave, please...serve its master? Please?"

Master Charles fought down the urge to shout with relief at the transformation in his mute slave. He reached over to the dresser and picked up a ring gag. "You may, my slave but only as I choose.” He pinched her nose to make her open her mouth wider then fitted the gag so her jaws were safely forced apart. "I'm not taking any risks with you getting too excited, slave." Alexa's body shook - she was silently chuckling! Master Charles could not remember the last time his little slave had laughed and to see her being neither sad nor serious was a huge boost - in more ways than one!

He discarded his shorts and knelt on the bed, extending the chain from her neck before pulling her body further down the mattress. Alexa squirmed in anticipation as she felt a pillow being positioned under her backside to raise her cunt higher off the firm bed. He extended the adjustable bar between her knee cuffs, forcing her thighs further apart, then pulled the chain from her ankles tighter and re-secured it to ensure she was completely immobilized. After checking that she wasn't being asphyxiated by her restraints, master Charles guided his erection between Alexa's lips and through the steel ring into her mouth. She eagerly raised her head to take him deeper into her mouth, straining against the wide leather collar on its taut chain. Alexa sucked and pressed the tip of her tongue just under his glans, knowing exactly how to make him...

"No, not too fast. Take things slower - that's better, yes. Ahh...GOOD little slave." Master Charles turned round, still penetrating her mouth, until he was facing her body. He leaned forward, put out the tip of his tongue to...slowly...lick...her...clit.

The effect was electric - Alexa stiffened as though a shock had passed between them. She tried to concentrate on sucking while her wonderful master teased, lapped, and tormented her helpless body. "I thought you females were supposed to be capable of multi-tasking!" he remarked dryly while pulling her swollen inner labia further apart with his strong fingers. "Then again, you do seem a little distracted at the moment." When he used his teeth to gently chew her stiffened tiny member, Alexa lost all concentration, all control, all thought...

She reveled in the utter helplessness and security of being completely restrained and pinned down by her master's comforting weight while he fucked her ring-gagged mouth. Five times he had reduced her to a quivering orgasmic wreck before he even considered satisfying his own desires! Alexa lay obediently waiting for the moment when the man who owned her would thrust into the back of her mouth and explode his seed inside her throat. He was about to cum - the telltale signs were all there. Her master slowed his pace ever so slightly; his erection trembled and became harder; he pulled back until the edge of his glans was held against the ring between her teeth...

...Then came the familiar hot, slightly bitter taste of her master's semen erupting into her mouth. Alexa exhaled just as he thrust forward in the way she had learned to expect - master Charles liked to sink his erection in as far as possible as though he wanted to drive his ejaculation even deeper into her body. It had taken her a long time to overcome her fear of suffocating and to control her gag reflex but she had eventually learned the art of 'deep throating' to perfection. Tiny points of light danced before her blindfolded eyes and her chest revolted against oxygen starvation. Alexa forced herself to keep sucking as he slowly pulled out of her mouth, draining the last drop of cum from his erection. As soon as his glans had unplugged her throat and the gag was removed, she took a huge gasp of sweet air before swallowing his semen - at last she could breathe!

He removed her blindfold and stroked her cheek. "That...was so damn good! There's only one thing wrong, though." Master Charles grinned as he sensed her discomfort at the thought she had disappointed him in any way. "It's your slave index rating - the scale only goes up to ten and I believe you've just exceeded it!"

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 8

By slave ruthie

By the time they reached the gymnasium, the naked maid was pulling back on the leash in sheer terror. She had nearly stumbled twice when her foot tripped over the short hobble chain between her ankles. Rosario - no, ‘mistress’ Rosario - had shown utter indifference towards Maria's growing distress. She had merely yanked the leash to tug her captive onwards, except for one occasion when Maria was too frightened of falling to go down the stairs to the basement. "You still don't understand, slave - you have no choice any longer. In fact, you've had no choice but to obey since your stupid father offered you as surety he would settle the shortfall in our accounts." Maria squealed in misery as she realized that she had been betrayed by her own father and now she was being framed for his fraudulent deeds AND his death!

Rosario strode behind the terrified girl, lifted the leash until Maria's collar was digging into her neck under her jaw then forced her forwards. "Slave," she whispered, "You must learn to trust me - I will not let you fall." She prodded her forward with the tip of her crop. "I will, however, let you choke in your pretty collar if you stumble. Now, put out your foot and step down."

Maria gurgled in fear but she hesitantly moved her right leg, trying to feel the edge of the stair with her toes. She couldn't see how far down the first step was with her head forced up by the horrible collar. It was like stepping off a cliff. Maria had an insane urge to throw herself down the staircase in the hope that she would be injured and they would have to stop their cruelty. She was afraid of 'mistress' Rosario but she was even more afraid of breaking her own neck. She closed her eyes and put her right foot down.

"Good slave. And now the next step. Hurry up - I haven't got all night." Rosario casually chatted away to Gérard as her prisoner carefully negotiated the steep steps down to the gymnasium. "I had this part of the house converted - grandfather kept the basement as a storage area for special items and unwilling 'guests' but the Family has increasingly diversified into real estate and other mainstream commodities. We no longer rely so heavily on goods and services that need to be kept from prying eyes." When Maria reached the bottom of the staircase, Rosario employed her crop to swat the girl's naked backside. Her victim yelped and moved forward at the sharp prompt.

Gérard silently admired the view in front. There was something electrifying about the way Rosario was controlling the naked, restrained maid. Although Charles had suggested she might need guidance when breaking in the girl, from what he had already seen, Rosario was eminently capable of dealing with a new slave on her own.

Gérard had realized something else. He was physically aroused by watching how Rosario used every opportunity to teach her maid about her new status as a slave. Intense, peculiar and disturbing thoughts filled his imagination. He was a master, an expert at bringing females to utter submission but here he was, fantasizing about taking Maria's place - naked, chained and helplessly under Rosario's absolute control! The startling image of himself submitting to this young woman was so unsettling, so alien to his nature...yet why did he have such a stiff, almost painful erection? Had she noticed? Would Rosario sense the turmoil in his mind as un-bidden dreams of submission undermined his safe, predictable, dominant background?

It was unfortunately at that moment Rosario chose to turn around and confront him. "You've gone very quiet.” Her expression changed from mild amusement to surprise. "Gérard, are you alright? You seem troubled by something."

He had to look away - she knew!

"We'll talk about this later." Her smile was enigmatic. "I have Maria to deal with...first." Another sharp swat with her crop across her bare thighs propelled the trembling girl forward with a squeal. "Stop whining, slave girl - that is nothing compared to what is coming." When they reached the gymnasium, Alfonso was waiting by the door.

Rosario propelled the terrified naked girl forwards and handed her leash to the smiling older man. "Maria claims she is a virgin. Alfonso - I want to make sure that is definitely no longer true and I expect her to be well-experienced in all three orifices by sunrise." The servant nodded but showed no more emotion as he pulled the frantically mewing girl closer. "No lasting marks or mutilation, mind. I want her kept in one piece...for now." She strode into the room and surveyed the special equipment provided by master Charles. "That one will do to begin with," she said, pointing to a cruel-looking metal device with crossbeams and thick leather straps. "Alfonso, make sure Maria 's tightly secured." She turned to the other men, ignoring the terrified squeals from the girl being dragged over to her fate. She came across and examined Maria who was struggling futilely in the stocks. Alfonso was attempting to force a ring gag harness into the terrified girl's tightly clamped mouth. "Here, let me help." She grasped a handful of hair and pulled Maria's head back then pinched the maid's septum between her immaculately manicured fingernails.

When Maria opened her mouth to scream in pain, Alfonso deftly wedged her jaws apart with the leather covered steel ring. "Grazie, padrona," he murmured, and began to fasten the harness straps behind the whimpering girl's head.

"She's still moving too much. Alfonso, tighten the straps again but don't cut off the little animal's circulation. And extend the frame - I want to see her legs wider and more taut." Rosario moved round to examine Maria's harnessed head. "You were very disobedient, resisting poor Alfonso like that." She stroked the girl's drooling face. "And disobedient slaves need to be punished for their own good. You will find that I reward compliance but I do not tolerate any failure." Rosario walked across to a nearby table and selected several objects. "I think we'll soften her up first. I want my new pet to be fully receptive during her first lesson."

When her right breast was lightly touched, Maria shuddered but the tight straps pinning her down to the padded frame prevented any further movement. Something began to squeeze her nipple - the pressure increased until it hurt! She squealed in discomfort but the crushing pain did not cease. Rosario moved round to her left side. Maria felt the fingers on her sensitive breast before her left nipple was seized by the vice-like clamp, causing her to squirm uselessly against the doubled discomfort.

"These clamps are very interesting. I assume the contacts on either side are to conduct electricity?" Rosario looked expectantly at Gérard for clarification.

"Ah, yes - the clips have two terminals to apply a high voltage between the jaws." He motioned towards the trolley. "There is a third clip if you wish to employ it?"

Rosario considered for a moment. "Yes, I think Maria needs to fully appreciate the consequences of failing to please me. Will you do the honors with the wiring, Gérard dear? I am not familiar with this device and I presume you are." As she collected the last clip and moved behind Maria, the trapped girl's frantic cries became more urgent. By now, she could only move her hands, feet and head a little - Alfonso had tightened the restraints again and extended the cruel frame so her legs were under strain and her spine was being stretched forwards. Rosario used her fingers to separate the poor girl's outer labia and slowly let the spring-loaded teeth of the third clamp bite down on her hooded clitoris. Maria shrieked and wept bitterly but no mercy was shown. "Alfonso, I think a light flogging all over her lovely body will bring some more color to her skin - please aim for maximum pain but minimum marks, si?"

"Si, padrona."

"Bene." She looked down at her attire. "Hmm...I really don't want to ruin this good dress. Gérard, would you look after things while I change? I will be back in about half an hour. Remember, no using her anywhere...until I return." Rosario gently kissed the top of Maria's head. "Well, I'll leave you in these gentlemen’s capable hands, slave. Gérard will show you what the clamps can do and Alfonso will make you more...responsive. After all, this is your début night as a slave and I want this to be an unforgettable experience for you." Alfonso smiled as Rosario sauntered out of the gymnasium without even a backwards glance at her terrified prey.

Gérard couldn't help admiring the cat-like way Rosario moved as she departed with her stunning dress clinging to her equally stunning figure. As the gymnasium's door clicked shut, he crouched down behind the maid's helplessly exposed body and used his thumbs to spread the moaning girl's exposed labia painfully apart. "The hymen appears almost intact. Judging by the tightness of the vestibule, this girl's vagina has only ever held a tampon...and perhaps her finger." He ignored Maria's horrified cries as her most intimate details were openly discussed by her assailants as though she was an animal on public display!

Gérard stroked the hard edge of his Master's Ring down the sole of Maria's right foot, making her toes curl. He noted the telltale signs of her tiny rosebud tightening between her soft buttocks. "A good reflex too - this one will be very responsive to the right stimuli." Gérard looped a leather thong around the girl's left big toe, tightening the slipknot before tying the other end to the base of the frame.

This simple act proved to be the last straw for Maria. As her feet were cruelly stretched down, she burst into forlorn sobbing. Her whole body ached. The pain of the clamps mercilessly biting into her tender breasts and vulva were unbearable. And she was terrified of worse things to come.

The faint humming sound of the box on the nearby trolley made her squeal even louder. She could feel something being attached to the clamp on her left breast. The doctor was crouching, reaching under her chest to do the same thing to her right breast. She strained her head and saw red wires hanging from the buzzing box that seemed to lead towards her body! He was behind her now, his hand brushing against her inner thighs. A momentary pricking sensation in her clitoris made her squirm but all she managed to do was hurt herself by straining against the cruel restraints.

Gérard walked slowly around his subject. When he crouched down by her head, she turned her face away and closed her eyes. But he simply took hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. "This is going to hurt, Maria. In fact, this will hurt more than anything you have ever suffered in your short life. Do not worry though - you are not going to be mutilated or killed...yet." He smiled, knowing how his chilling words would affect the terrified girl. "You are drooling too much. We need to find something for you to suck." He picked out an inflatable penis gag strap from the neatly laid out equipment and paused to lubricate the black rubber tip along her moist cleft. "Did that feel nice, slave? Your sweet little cunt will shortly be feeling many interesting sensations. Keep your head still."

But she wouldn't - Maria desperately tried to turn her forced-open mouth away from the obscene rubber plug that smelled of her own sex. Her efforts were useless. A painfully strong grip on her hair forced her mouth towards the intruder. Moments later, Maria was recoiling at the unfamiliar taste of rubber and her own vaginal juices. "There - it is not so difficult, n'est pas?" He shoved the penis gag deeper into her mouth until the leather base was pressing against her forced-open lips. Once the buckle was tightened behind her head, Gérard lifted up the bulb and held it in front of her horrified eyes. Maria's reaction to the first squeeze was immediate - she moaned and shook her head in anguish, as the thing in her mouth grew larger, pushing her tongue down while it pressed against the roof of her mouth.

She couldn't bear it. Her mouth was filling up! "UUUNNN!!! UUMMMPHH!!!"

"Encore, pétite Maria." Gérard kept on squeezing the bulb while he tenderly stroked her hair. Then he pinched her nose shut.

"MMMPHH!!! MMMMM!!!" She couldn't breathe! He had cut off all her air!

"You see how easy it is to let you die?" Gérard let go of her nose and allowed her to inhale before closing her nostrils again. "The skill is in taking a slave to the brink of death without...” Again, she was allowed a single breath before his grip returned to block her air passages. "...going too far. Some claim that if a girl is choked during orgasm or penetration, the sensations are intensified." Gérard pursed his lips in disapproval and allowed another desperate breath. "I have seen no evidence to support this theory. I have, however, dealt with the consequence of experimental failure." He released her nose and moved to the collar around her neck, pulling it up to compress her windpipe. "As a training method though, Breath Control is a most useful way of teaching a new slave how to obey." He held her collar until her frantic head movements subsided then let go to give her sweet relief. Gérard took a blindfold strap from his pocket and tightened it firmly at the back of Maria's head, blocking out all light from her terror-stricken eyes. "Soon, we will begin your breaking, pétite esclave. But not until I have had a coffee."

*****

A tremendous crash roused him from restful sleep to total alertness within a second. After diving for cover and grabbing the gun from under his pillow, master Charles crouched down to minimize his profile, quietly released the safety catch then waited.

Silence.

Turning on the bedside lamp, he immediately noticed two peculiar things: Alexa was missing from the bed and the large, heavy wooden dresser had been tipped over onto its front. He scanned the room and whispered, "Alexa? Little slave - where are you?" A tiny, scraping noise made him quickly aim the loaded weapon into the darkest corner of the guest suite. Carefully moving closer, he found Alexa huddled against the base of the wall. She was shaking violently and holding her arms outstretched, as if she was being crucified.

Master Charles felt sick with dread. Was his slave having a seizure or a cardiac arrest? One of the unfortunate side effects seen in sterilized slaves, who had hormone-enhancing implants like Alexa, was an unusually high incidence of a thrombosis. If Alexa was having a CVA, it might cripple or even kill her - just as it had done to Lyssa, master Stephen's former personal slave and Alexa's predecessor. "Alexa, look at me. Come on, girl - open your eyes and look at me!" But she did not respond. Her hands were clenched so tightly, he feared she might break her own fingers. "Alexa, do as you are told, slave - LOOK at me NOW!" When her eyes eventually flickered open, she did not look at him but stared vacantly at the ceiling. Master Charles was struck by the expression of sheer terror and agony on his slave's face. Alexa was gasping and trembling violently. "Little slave, hey - come back, my Alexa..."

She turned towards the sound of his voice, shuddering as her mouth worked in absolute horror. Master Charles sighed with relief - she had moved all her limbs so it wasn't a seizure after all. But why was she looking so tortured? Alexa was certainly prone to waking fearfully in the middle of the night but she always seemed to find reassurance in her restraints...DAMN! He had released her after their oral sex and fallen asleep with her cradled in his arms. He had forgotten to secure her again afterwards! She must have woken from a nightmare without the comfort of being secured to the bed then panicked. But master Charles had never seen her looking so terrified as this. He checked her vital signs: her heart was racing but steady; her breathing was rapid but shallow; her skin was slick with perspiration but cold and clammy to touch.

A soft knocking on the door to the suite made him turn around. Guy was standing there with a silenced gun in his hand. "Everything alright, sir?" He raised an eyebrow at the overturned furniture then smiled. "Sorry for intruding, sir - heard the crash and just thought to check things were okay..."

"Guy, things are NOT okay. Something has happened to Alexa - look at her."

Guy lowered the gun and crouched down to examine Alexa. "Is she having another attack, sir?"

"'Another'? What are you talking about? Guy, have you seen her like this before?"

"Yeah, you know - like after you got back from Antigua. Remember when you had to leave her at the Ranch while you chaired that Masters' Convention down in Houston."

Master Charles frowned. That had been the only night since Alexa returned from the clinic when he had not been with her. And there had been a problem with his slave but he hadn't been told! "Damn - I knew absolutely nothing about this! What on earth happened?"

Guy looked uncomfortable. "Got called down to the pens. Duty supervisor said Alexa'd gone plum crazy, got her arms out rigid - bit like this but not as severe. Thought you knew, sir. Told the night team to put it in the incident log."

"This is the first I've heard about it! Somebody is going to get HELL for this oversight. What did you do when it happened, Guy?"

"Sedated her - gave her a shot of Pentothal, then we got her into a straightjacket and did a full tie-down on a gurney. Had a problem getting an airway in with her throat all swollen up after her operation, so I stayed with her in case she choked. Seemed to do the trick because in the morning she was fine. Look sir, I really thought you knew about it." Guy peered closer at the quivering girl. "Want me to call a medic from the Center, sir?"

Master Charles looked down at his slave. Alexa was stirring weakly and looking around the room with a dazed expression. "No, she's beginning to come round. Leave it just now, Guy. And don't tell Rosario or her people about this, okay?" He indicated towards the dresser. "Could you put that back before you go?"

"Sure. No problem, sir." Guy stood up and shook his head at the pathetic figure lying slumped against the wall. "Poor kid. She's one of the best, sir."

"Yes," master Charles murmured, "I know."

But the chest was too heavy for him alone. Guy had to ask for help. With a struggle, they managed to set the solid mahogany unit back against the wall. "How did she tip it over on her own?" Guy had no answer and looked equally baffled before quietly leaving the room.

She began to weep when her master gently scooped her up from the floor. Alexa had no idea how she had ended up in the far corner of the guest suite. All she could remember was drifting contentedly off to sleep with her master's powerful arms wrapped around her sexually exhausted body.

She remembered the awful nightmare, however. In painful detail, Alexa experienced the horrible sequence of events while she was being executed: the padded bench with the broad Velcro straps that pinned her body and arms; the green walls and tiled floor of the death chamber; the curtained windows of the witness rooms; the sharp stab of the catheter into her arm; the cold sensation of the drugs entering her veins; the agony of being paralyzed and unable to breathe...and, most chilling of all, the mocking, soft laughter in her ears.

It was definitely getting worse. Every time Alexa had the horrible recurring nightmare, it was increasingly vivid and more detailed. How was she able to see, hear, feel, smell and even taste in a dream? It all felt so real!

Charles sat his slave next to him on the bed and gently stroked her head. When Alexa reached up to touch her gold collar and breathed a huge sigh of relief, he smiled. It was an endearing habit of hers to finger the golden band that circled her neck - a comfort that she sought for reassurance. His smile turned into a frown when he saw the inside of her right forearm. She was bleeding.

A dark, ugly bruise had formed just above her wrist around a peculiar, linear incision that was still seeping blood. "Look what you did to yourself, Alexa." When he turned her hand outwards to show her the injury, her face drained and she began to shake. "You must have cut your arm on the dresser." He could feel her tensing up, covering her shocked mouth with her left hand, staring in horror at the wound. "Don't worry - you probably caught it on a splinter. It is not a deep cut and should not leave a permanent mark."

Alexa barely heard him. She knew why her arm was injured, even though it was impossible...and it frightened her so much she felt physically sick. The wound was in the exact spot where the long needle was forced into her arm during the execution nightmare!

He stood her up so she was facing him. "Guy told me you had a similar episode before, little slave." Master Charles lifted up Alexa's chin, making her look up into his eyes. "You seem to be badly affected by something during sleep. We will need to find out why. I also dearly want to know how you managed to overturn the dresser on your own when it took two strong men together to lift it upright." He brushed a line of tears from her cheek. "Now let's get you safely back to bed. Go and freshen yourself up first. Be as quick as you can while I find a bandage for that arm."

When Alexa came back from the bathroom, master Charles dressed her arm with a small plaster then made her turn around and stand to attention. "Hands behind your back. Feet slightly apart. Head up high, slave." The leather cuffs he had selected were wider than usual and had two locking buckles instead the usual one. At the sound of the final padlock clicking shut, Alexa visibly relaxed. "Stand straight - you were not permitted to move, slave."

Somehow, she forgot about the horrible dream and concentrated on being fully obedient. This was exactly what she needed right now - to be under her master's control...and safe. By the time he had secured her ankles together and wrapped a posture collar around her neck, she felt much calmer. He kissed her on her lips before fitting a padded blindfold strap snuggly around her head.

Master Charles stared down at his property for a moment before gently pulling the duvet over her restrained body. The chains on her collar and ankle cuffs would prevent her from getting out of bed again. His poor slave was so exhausted that she was already asleep. Unfortunately, he felt too alert to go back to bed.

Perhaps it was time to do what he had avoided since claiming little Alexa instead of killing her. Sitting at the small table so he could keep an eye on the helpless, faintly snoring form of his personal slave, he broke the seal on the large jiffy bag and emptied the contents out for inspection. As expected, there was a handwritten letter addressed to him. Master Charles took a sip of his favorite single malt whisky and began to read.

*****

Was it the dreadful searing sensations through her poor breasts and vulva, or the relentless lashing of her aching back and legs that made Maria go beyond maddening pain into...what? She was so frightened, so afraid for her life and yet there was another feeling too - excitement?

She had been left isolated, cruelly strapped to the horrible frame, gagged by the obscene rubber thing that seemed to fill her mouth, blindfolded and in discomfort from the clamps on her sore breasts and tender pussy. They had not spoken or touched her but she knew they were there.

Without warning, a savage current bit into her left breast. Her whole body stiffened and she screwed her eyes shut under the blindfold. A matching jolt burned through her right breast. Maria clamped her jaws against the ring between her teeth in a desperate attempt to find any relief from the awful sensations across her sensitive nipples. It didn't work. When the electric shock tore through her labia and clitoris, she couldn't fight anymore. Maria lost control of her bladder, releasing a jet of hot urine that sprayed and splashed over the marble floor behind her racked body.

"Dirty slave - I see another device is needed." Whatever Gérard meant, became horribly clear as a new, stinging began between her thighs. It felt like a hot needle entering where she peed! If she could have screamed, Maria would have howled the house down but all she could manage was a ragged gurgling sound. This pain was impossible to bear! "Bien. Warm her up, Alfonso - random strokes but please keep clear of her body when you strike with the whip."

She heard him through a blur of agony. Surely nothing could be worse than this? Then the fire began to rain down from her shoulders to the back of her legs...

*****

"A most interesting man, your new president." The senator sniffed dubiously at the tiny cup of steaming brew that his slave had served. "You sure this is just tea, little Guli?" He smiled and reached down to pat her head at the sight of her anxious expression. "Don't worry - it's a joke." But she still looked seriously up at him. "I'm being funny, dear slave." When the senator tickled her ear, Guljana finally grinned, then chuckled with a mixture of mirth and relief.

Such a beautiful face. He reached out and touched her soft cheek. "Nearly time to get yourself dressed, my little slave-jewel. Remember to keep your collar hidden under that scarf - we don't want to reveal your status to people too ignorant to understand how valuable you are." His slave smiled and looked down at the beautifully woven rug below her bare legs. "Your president has mastered the fine art of speaking without actually saying anything. He would fit in well at Capitol Hill," he added ruefully. "Well? What did YOU think, little Guli - he's from your part of the country. Can we really trust this man from Kandahar?"

Guljana thought for a few seconds. "I...trusting him, senate-master. He is good-man - pardon. He is a good man. Presidens K_____ says many much with his eye and hand, master. He is know a man of honor to my people." She blushed and grinned. "He is very much handsome also."

The senator laughed. "Well, he certainly liked you, my pretty slave-jewel. Matter of fact, he couldn't take his eyes off you!" He reached down and patted her head in response to her horrified expression. "I can hardly fault him, my dear. You do seem to have that effect on the male of the species!" Guljana looked confused. The senator realized she did not understand his words. No matter. "Now, what are you going to do while I am at the Jirga? There is no way for you to stay with me. The presence of a woman, particularly a 'foreign infidel', is extremely offensive to the Talib negotiators - they are only seeing me under sufferance." He paused - she was crying again. "Guli, I am assigning a guard to look after you. You will have your very own US marine to keep you safe." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Sergeant Gomez is also one of us, slave. You could say he's a kind of 'talent scout' for the Organization."

Guljana tried to control her feelings. She could not shake off the awful fear that something bad was going to happen. But how could she explain it to her senate-master? He was going into extreme danger and she knew how ruthless the men he was meeting could be. And he was worried about HER safety! "A slave thanking her senate-master who she is love very much."

Her deep, dark eyes and trembling lower lip were too much to bear. He was going to arrive late at the presidential palace...but who could resist such temptation?

*****

"She is ready, padrona." Alfonso bowed and handed over his flogger to a smiling Rosario.

"Grazie. Go upstairs and choose two of the staff to help with Maria's lesson." She strode across to the frame. "Do not return until I call you, Alfonso. I want a private word with my new slave." When Gérard started to follow the servant, she called him back. "No, Gérard. I want you to stay. Close the door and lock it." When she shrugged off her trench coat and let it fall to the floor, he found it impossible not to stare. "Yes, I know its terribly theatrical but I did not want Alfonso thinking it was for his benefit."

Gérard could see what she meant and wondered exactly whose benefit Rosario had in mind - Maria, himself, or...both? For Rosario was attired from collar to toe in a black leather, figure-hugging catsuit with matching long gloves, and stiletto thigh boots. "Be a dear and help me with this harness, Gérard." She had tightened a wide belt around her trim waist and was standing with her hands on her hips and legs slightly apart. "I will allow you to fasten my crotch strap. Tell me - what do you think of my outfit? It's not too much for you, I hope."

Oh she knows exactly what she's doing to me, thought Gérard. "You look...very imposing, Rosario - very much the dominant." So much indeed that he was having trouble controlling his voice as he knelt down. "Please...your ankles - wider apart...” He felt so tongue-tied, like a schoolboy! When he reached up inside her legs, he paused at the sight of the strap dangling between her thighs. This was no ordinary strap-on belt - apart from the connector on the front for attaching interchangeable dildoes, there were two extra plugs fitted on the inside of the strap!

Rosario looked down and raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Gérard?" Her tone was amused and slightly mocking. "But SURELY you can unzip me and secure the strap properly."

"Of course, it will be a pleasure, Rosario," he smiled up at her, "but SURELY you will want these lubricated first?"

Rosario chuckled softly and stroked his cheek with a leather-gloved hand. "And how, my dear doctor, do you propose to do that?"

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 9

By slave ruthie

"To my dear friend Jean-Charles,

You will be reading this after my death but do not think poorly of me, for suicide is not always the coward's way out that some people believe. If I am guilty of cowardice, it is for asking you to deal with Alexa after I have gone. Leaving her behind is the most difficult thing I have ever done - even worse than deciding to have my Lyssa put down after her brain hemorrhage.

I have set my affairs in order, leaving nearly everything to my daughters who will be told their father suddenly passed away due to an undiagnosed heart condition, while abroad on yet another covert diplomatic mission. They do not need to know about the lung cancer. While they blamed my long absences overseas for ruining their parents' marriage, Jennifer and Christine know absolutely nothing about the Organization, or about their half-brother, Marek. Ah, Marek - I dearly wish I had known my son while he was growing up. He has turned into a fine young man but I feel great regret that his mother never told me about him until his arrest for war crimes in Croatia. I hope he will enjoy the contents of my rare erotica collection in the Château, no doubt while sampling my other collection of Cognacs! Please extend to him your friendship and counsel - unfortunately, he has inherited my stubborn streak and tendency to be blunt to the point of tactlessness! I am so proud of him taking over as head of the Ardennes Château and hope he might join you one day on the Executive Council.

Despite my illness, this last year has been one of the happiest of my life, due in no small part to owning the best slave I have ever trained. My Alexa has been astounding in her submission and devotion to me. Jean-Charles, I have loved and enjoyed many women in my lifetime, all of them special and unique, but (aside from my Lyssa, of course) never one so much as this small, English slave girl. Alexa may look unremarkable, although she is far from ugly, but her qualities as a personal slave are very special. Did you know she achieved a perfect Slave Index rating within a mere five months of being collared? That alone, I believe, is an Organization record. Despite my best intentions, and what I said to you after Lyssa's cremation about never wishing to own another slave, I came to love little Alexa and I believe she has equally returned my affections. She has certainly never given me any reason to doubt her feelings.

My friend, I placed an unfair and heavy burden on you by asking you to execute Alexa in the traditional manner, should I be too ill to manage on my own. The truth is that I could not bring myself to kill my own love-slave, not even out of mercy. As a consequence, I feel I have let her, and you, down. However, it also did not seem right to end her life just because her Master was due to die. Somehow, I felt this was quite wrong and would leave matters strangely incomplete - I do not know why and have agonized over what I take to be a lack of nerve on my part to do the right thing. Perhaps it all reminded me too much of losing my dear, sweet Lyssa.

And yet as I write this, I have a feeling that things may not have turned out as planned. Forgive me if I have misjudged you, Jean-Charles, but I should not be surprised if you have allowed little Alexa to live. If you have, then I would not mind at all but in fact, would be relieved and dearly hope that you might have found a place for her at your feet. Alexa would make any Master delighted to own her and even the notion that she might now be yours gives me great pleasure. If I am wrong and you did indeed put her to death with the Spike and Noose, I can only hope she died well. Knowing Alexa, she would probably refuse the sedative but I trust you will have prevented her suffering needlessly. For all your reputation as the harshest of Masters, Jean-Charles, I have never found you to be a gratuitously cruel man but one who only inflicts the minimum pain necessary to help a slave reach higher standards of submission. I believe you have the same standards when it comes to dispatching slaves and the others during your career in CovOps for NATO prior to joining us in the Organization. You know, you were always evasive but promised to tell me one day the reason you resigned your commission and now I will never find out why!

Whether my sweet Alexa is dead or now wears another's collar (and I dearly hope it is yours), you still need to hear the truth about her past and her nature. I do not know how much you might have discovered or figured out for yourself but this may help fill in any blanks. If you enter Alexa's index number - 7663389 - at the online Slave Register at https://_____________.gov, you will find very few details about her origins and even these are incorrect.

When we harvested Alexa, I made copies of the original files for my own records, before passing them to Dr __________ for her pre-collaring medical assessment. I did not suspect that he would destroy most of the documents and alter on-line entries, although I later came to understand why he did this. Perhaps I made a mistake by keeping these copies - you must now decide whether they should be shredded and incinerated. Here is a summary of the key points:

According to the data online, Alexa Rachel B_______ is an only child born in London on _________ to a single parent, and sired by an unidentified father. However, she is actually the unexpected by-product of our abandoned research program at the R_____ Institute to breed naturally submissive females for the Organization's livestock program. Her "mother" was one of the thirty surrogates offered free fertility treatment by a bogus charitable clinic in London's Harley Street and her "father" did not technically exist. Alexa and all her other 'sisters' grown for the program were actually created by the fusion of two ova extracted from slaves who had been specially selected for their physical and mental characteristics - attractiveness and submissiveness. Forgive the scientific jargon but genetically, Alexa is a "recessive hybrid XXXX accidental twin". Her birth twin, who was spontaneously aborted at five months, was sent to the Institute for autopsy as usual. However, the researchers did not know that the surrogate then carried a SECOND fetus to full term.

Alexa had a pretty dreadful childhood by anyone's standards and here the information is patchy. If you look at the copies taken from her Social Services file we acquired from the London Borough of ________, you will see that she was born without medical assistance at her grandmother's apartment in South London. It seems Alexa's 'mother' suffered from a nervous breakdown after the abortion and separated from her husband. She began to drink heavily and became addicted to crack cocaine, subsequently working as a hooker to feed her drug habit. She left the old "grandmother" to raise Alexa until this woman died three years later. Alexa then stayed with the "mother" until she was removed into protective custody. These next few years with her surrogate parent were horrendous and it sickens me to think about how my little slave was subjected to physical, mental, and sexual abuse from an early age. Alexa's surrogate apparently loathed her and probably only kept the child for the state benefits and to "entertain" the lodgers she took in.

It appears that Alexa was assessed as 'borderline educationally sub-normal" and attended special schools. Frankly, I cannot comprehend this, as she is quite intelligent. Perhaps her shy manner and traumatic upbringing hindered her performance. She ended up in care following suspected non-accidental injuries to her fingers. Although the surrogate mother was cautioned, she was not convicted of child cruelty for lack of evidence. This woman had no further contact with the child and disappeared afterwards - her current circumstances or whereabouts are unknown. Alexa remained in care, staying with short-term foster parents and in several residential homes until her surrogate mother's widowed sister returned to the UK with her two young daughters from Australia. As far as I can tell, this woman traced my slave to a hostel for subnormal adolescents and helped her find employment and a place to live.

When I found her, Alexa was working virtually day and night to pay off rent and fuel arrears to a creep of a landlord. She was being grossly overcharged for her lodgings. Our boys taught him a lasting lesson and I nearly left things at that. I only intended to have her harvested out of pity, believing that slavery within our Organization offered the girl a shorter but better life than the drudgery of her 'freedom'.

It all became very complicated when I took her into my limousine on a whim instead of having her caged for immediate shipment. Jean-Charles, this girl submitted to me on the spot without any training or even being broken. I have never seen or heard of a female imprinting so rapidly. My friend, you will call me a romantic old fool but from the moment I took hold of her collar, she was mine and always had been - crazy, isn't it? The rest you know but perhaps you did not hear exactly why the Council closed down the breeding program as it occurred before your election and the records were sealed.

Harvesting all these girls proved to be a major operation, stretching our resources to the limit. Great care had to be taken to clean up all traces of their removal in case anyone connected together the spate of sudden deaths of similarly aged young girls throughout the UK. Household and vehicle fires were mainly used to substitute charred corpses for the harvested produce. The program turned out to be a total failure. All of Alexa's other "sisters" did not reach full term or had to be destroyed after harvesting. The clones were characterized by accelerated physical maturity and remarkable beauty. However, as you probably heard, they also exhibited unpredictable violence and aggression towards themselves and others. Alexa does not share their tall, attractive features but has occasionally shown signs of their extreme strength. Jean-Charles, look at the metal ring inside this envelope. It is made from tungsten-vanadium steel and has sheared well away from the weld. Metallurgical tests confirmed the steel is not flawed but must have been subjected to several tons of force to fail like that. Would you believe me if I told you it was attached to the rear of a slow-choke collar and Alexa's wrists were cuffed to it high up BEHIND her back? She was being tortured at the time by a rogue guard and was almost impaled on an execution spike when I intervened. How on earth did she break the ring, especially in that position? Dr __________ told me he suspected Alexa's outburst of strength was triggered by pain overload but I am not convinced. She was put through quite a severe breaking by Marek and never once exhibited a similar reaction. If you own her now, keep a careful watch for any peculiar displays of excessive power.

Now this is also going to sound a little crazy but I always had the feeling that Alexa was not actually mine. Instead, I felt that she was "on loan" and I was merely Alexa's guardian, preparing her for something or someone else. Do not get me wrong on this, I have loved keeping her and training her to the best of my ability. Perhaps it is only an illusion caused by my pain meds but I am convinced Alexa was destined for something of great importance. What an idiot I must sound when you read this but I stand by what I just wrote. If she is dead, it does not matter any more but if she is still alive, please watch over her, Jean-Charles - even if you do not own her. Humor your foolish old friend and fellow Master in this - there is something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on. She is special and I hope to goodness she is at your feet.

Please excuse my sentimentality. You will find the other contents of this envelope hold no particular value if Alexa has been disposed of or, if she is alive, they are beyond price. I leave their fate (and hers) in your hands.

Farewell, Jean-Charles. Find yourself a personal slave if you haven't got my Alexa - you can't grieve for Laura for the rest of your life.

Your friend and former sponsor,

Stephen."

Master Charles put the letter on the sheaf of copied documents and stared across at his diminutive slave lying in the king siz

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 10

By slave ruthie

Master Charles put the letter on the sheaf of copied documents and stared across at his diminutive slave lying in the king size bed. Aside from occasionally pulling up her feet as far as the ankle chain allowed, she had barely moved and seemed to be in a deep sleep.

It was impossible - she did not even look like the R_____ clones, although he had only ever seen photos and a video of one being killed after she had broken her trainer's back. It had taken three guards with shock prods to get her off his twisted body, then several bullets, including one through her heart, before she had finally stopped lashing out. The Institute had tried to create perfect slaves but had ended up breeding monsters. Those who died in infancy and the terribly deformed fetuses that mercifully failed to reach birth were the lucky ones.

He took another sip of the 25-year-old Macallan whisky to steady his nerves and reached inside the envelope for the last few items. He picked up the twisted steel ring and examined the sheered edges where it had broken - not only had the ring been buckled out of shape but the metal had been cleanly snapped through.

There were also several rosettes for First Place in Slave Obedience Exams and Artistic Merit in Pole Dancing, and a Certificate of Commendation for unaccompanied singing 'My Love For Master' at the European Slavery Convention in the previous year. It pained him to realize that his virtually mute slave once had a fine voice and that he had ruined it when she was slowly choking while she fought against execution on the spike.

Then there was the collar. Master Charles held it up to examine the beautiful craftsmanship of the ornate gold band. It was embossed with an interwoven Celtic design and bore the inscription: 'Alexa 7663389 - Propriété de Maître Étienne _____ - Château ________'. Attached to the tether ring near the almost invisible slide lock was the fiercely coveted and highly prized Médaille d'Or to show she had attained the highest possible Slave Index rating - 10 points. In open auction, a slave sold with this extremely rare gold disc on her collar could command a seven-figure sum and he actually owned one!

Perhaps Stephen had kept these poignant reminders of Alexa's achievements to plead the case for her survival. However, her first Master also knew very well what had to be done and had avoided doing it. Master Charles felt no anger towards his deceased friend and former mentor. After all, Stephen had been slowly dying of lung cancer - his judgment would have been affected by the terminal illness and pain meds. Master Charles lifted the crystal glass to his lips, paused then put it down again without taking a sip. He had lost all appetite for his favorite drink and knew the reason why – he was faced with an awful task. The self-imposed solitude of the last near-decade had been a safe alternative to repeating the awful pain of losing his dear wife. By claiming Alexa, he had broken the curse of loneliness and found new joy and hope…but all of this was about to be lost once he did his duty as Head of Security and killed the little slave who lay sleeping on his bed. It wasn’t fair!

Pacing the floor of the suite, he went over and over in his mind the pros and cons of allowing Alexa to live or executing her as quickly as possible. Was she really as dangerous as the doctor believed? She was not a pure clone – she was merely a small, extremely submissive girl who was so compliant she never objected or challenged any order or demand. Perhaps the cuff ring had been broken before Alexa had bent it apart. That must be the answer – some other girl had weakened it first as she died on the spike. Anyway, how could he face Rosario and explain that her little ward and adopted Family member was dead because Alexa presented too great a risk, not just because of what she might do but because of what she represented? It would cause a war between the Mafia and the Organization. All the years of careful negotiations and co-operation to keep organized crime in the States under joint Government and Family control rather than in the hands of unpredictable foreign gangs would be wasted. It would have a knock-on effect throughout the criminal world and break the secret treaty that had delivered Fascist Italy into Allied hands. No, he would have to think of another pretext to justify killing Alexa that would satisfy Rosario…but what could he possibly say?

And what of himself – he had built his reputation as a Council member on his rigid, unwavering sense of duty. Yet he had risked throwing away everything when he relented while Alexa hung in the noose. Instead of placing her back on the spike and watching her slowly impale herself while she choked, he had inexplicably lifted her up, freed her collar then resuscitated her. When he informed his fellow members that he was claiming Stephen’s personal slave for himself, Contessa D’____, the head of Buenos Aires operations, had phoned him to ask if he was unwell! What was he supposed to do now - destroy all the incriminating evidence of Alexa’s origins and pretend she was just another slave? But what happened if she WAS dangerous? Alexa could attack him or some other Master. She might even resist while he tried to kill her. The thought was enough to provoke him into reaching down to check she was securely fettered to the bed. She was still restrained but he added an extra pair of heavy-duty rigid cuffs to her wrists so she could definitely not fight back. Master Charles slumped into his chair and contemplated his next move. Should he throw away his personal happiness and do his duty or let his pretty little slave live on and ignore the risk to himself and others? No, it was far from easy. In fact, it was an awful dilemma to face alone. For a brief, foolish moment he considered waking Alexa to ask her opinion on her own fate. No, that would be cruel and potentially quite risky if she was as dangerous as the doctor had warned. Taking a deep breath, he reluctantly made up his mind.

Draining his glass, Master Charles sighed heavily and reached into his jacket pocket for the garroting wire. He had to set aside any personal feelings - Alexa could not possibly be allowed to live now that her true origins had been revealed. He gently loosened the three buckles at the back of the posture collar and managed to remove it without waking her. Slipping the end of the wire under her freshly exposed neck, he re-threaded it through the eyelet and re-attached the pull-ring. One sharp, powerful tug upwards would rapidly crush her windpipe and cut off the blood flow to her brain, while dislocating her second and third neck vertebrae to sever her spinal chord. It would happen so fast that Alexa would barely feel a thing before losing consciousness. A simple, clean death.

But it was far from simple. She lay on her side, her mouth slightly parted as she innocently slept away the last few seconds of her life. He thought of the first woman he had ever killed - a radical student organizer who had rebelled against her country's corrupt régime. Her father had been a government minister but she knew too much about his perverse sexual tastes and could have caused a brutal civil war if she had exposed him. Her name had been Esmeralda and she had been so beautiful that the younger Charles had almost failed the C__ contract. He had seduced her, made love to her, then snapped her soft neck with his bare hands.

Some of the faces of other women and girls who had either died at his command or from his own actions began to invade his thoughts - the attractive but deadly terrorist, posing as a high-class hooker, who nearly succeeded in her bid to assassinate a key industrialist...the tearful house slave who had inadvertently killed a guest in a bondage game that had gone wrong...the pretty girl tourist who had unfortunately witnessed an army major raping a...STOP it!

He tightened his grip on the garrote ring and steeled himself. This was so hard. His hand was shaking and his mouth felt dry. Alexa roused slightly and licked her lips but did not wake up. He could smell her feminine, slightly earthy scent that he had come to know and love so well. Come ON, man - control yourself! Make it quick so she doesn't suffer. You owe her that at least. He tensed his body, took a deep breath and....heard a familiar, unmistakable voice that gently whispered, "Bring her back home, my beloved."

LAURA? Master Charles let go of the garrote and turned around in shock. Of course, there was no one else in the room. He must have been hallucinating - how could his deceased wife speak, unless it was inside his mind? Laura - my dear, sweet Laura who brought home and nursed wounded animals and birds. Laura, whose life had been so cruelly taken when she had died in his arms.

Then Master Charles did something that had not happened since he had buried his pet dog when he was ten - his eyes filled with tears from years of bottled-up grief as he sank to his knees and fought against the urge to weep.

*****

"Careful!" Rosario hissed in discomfort. "Be more gentle - I am not one of your slaves!"

"Pardonnez-moi, just a few more centimétres. Please relax and they will go in easier.” Gérard slowly pulled the crotch strap higher and tried to think of something that was completely non-sexual to ease the throbbing in his stiff penis. Mon Dieu - c'est très difficile, he thought, while kneeling before the stunningly clad Maîtresse Rosario in her leather suit. Think of the weather, you fool - think of ANYTHING to take your mind off the dildoes that you moistened with your tongue...their pointed tips penetrating her ass and vulva as the strap-on belt is tightened...ahh, MERDE!

"Having a 'spot' of trouble down there?" Rosario's softly mocking tone indicated that she knew full well what had just happened to her embarrassed assistant. "Never mind. There is a bathroom behind that mirror." She followed him with her eyes as he quickly left to clean himself up. "Anyway, I'm sure there's plenty more where that 'cums' from!" Oh, but you are too cruel, she chuckled at her own wicked sense of humor. A flicked switch shut off the fierce buzzing from the unit that had been delivering electric shocks to her new slave's tortured body. Good - now that she is safe to touch, we can proceed with the next level of Maria's enslavement, she thought.

Striding around the prone body of her new slave, Rosario traced her gloved hand up Maria's spine, noticing with pleasure how the girl shivered. Without any warning, she reached under the girl's chest and pulled the clamp from Maria's left nipple. Ignoring her slave's renewed screams of pain as the blood rushed back into the crushed flesh, she swiftly yanked the other clamp away. "Having these removed must be SUCH a relief. You may thank me properly later." Rosario leaned across the captive's red-striped back and pulled the silver wire out of her urethra. "I expect that was the most painful electrode, unless it was...THIS one?" Oh what sweet music a muffled squeal of pain makes! "Now, let me see what I shall use to deflower you, slave." She smiled at the frantic noises that Maria was making past her gag. "Will it be the smooth, slim line dildo? No - too mild and you are obviously a girl who appreciates a LOT of stimulation. Ahh, the very thing!" Rosario slid the base of the shaft onto the metal rod at the front of her crotch strap with a satisfying click as it locked in place. She reached over and loosened Maria's blindfold, making the helpless girl blink painfully in the harsh spotlights.

"Look what I have for you, slave. Not quite your size, I know, but you will be amazed how pliant and accommodating a girl can be when she has to."

"Nnnn! Mmmph! Nnnn!!!" Maria stared in wide-eyed horror at the huge, black dildo sticking out from just above Mistress Rosario's crotch.

"Isn't it lovely? Somewhat larger than the real thing but beautifully proportioned, don't you think? I am particularly impressed with the little spikes just under the glans and these ridged veins - what a lucky slave girl you are to have this for your first lover." Rosario savored the look of horror in her victim's eyes - by the time she had finished with the little bitch, her ex-maid would never forget the night that she was reduced to utter submission. Ample repayment for Maria's surly looks and insolence as she sulked and pouted when given an order. So the little tart thought she was too good for domestic service? Well, 'daddy's girl' was in for one hell of a shock, and not just because her precious papa had sold his daughter to the Family in a vain attempt to save his own miserable hide. No, the poor little bitch was destined for a worse hell than anything that Rosario might offer. But not just yet, not until she had sport with her prey. How appropriate, she mused, for here she stood in a catsuit, toying with her little captive. Miaow, indeed!

Maria shook her head desperately while the black-clad Mistress of the house removed the disgusting thing from her mouth. But she left the ring that was cruelly forcing her lips apart in place. "Uuhh! Huhhh-oohh!"

"You want to lick it? My, my - what a dirty little SLUT you are! And I thought you were SUCH a prim and proper young lady." Rosario smiled and waved the tip of the strap-on dildo close to her face. "Not yet, slave. Not until it's worth licking!"

At that moment, the mirrored bathroom door opened as a sheepish-looking Gérard stepped into the gymnasium. "Be a dear and stay in there for a bit longer. Maria and I are having a private moment together - a little 'girl-on-girl' thing, okay?" As he retreated and re-closed the door, she bent down to whisper in the helpless girl's ear. "Yes, he's mine too but the good doctor will just have to wait his turn. Now, where were we? Oh yes. Ready, my slave?"

Resting her hands on Maria's trembling hips, Mistress Rosario slowly pressed the tip of the huge dildo forwards until it was nudging the girl's virginal cunt lips apart. "I know it's cold, slave, but don't worry - we'll have it warmed up in no time." Ignoring Maria's increasingly loud whimpering, she began to push forwards.

Gérard stared at his reflection in the vanity mirror as he sat on the toilet, listening to the animal screams of pain coming through the door. Rosario had sent him back inside the bathroom like a child who was too young to witness 'grown up' things. He felt deeply humiliated...and strangely thrilled - what was happening to him? He looked down at the Master's Ring on his right hand - he sensed now that it did not tell the entire story. This domineering young woman had shattered his illusion of simple, uncomplicated dominance. Gérard knew the rules had changed and everything in his life had suddenly become complicated. The girl was shrieking in agony now but he could also hear a woman's musical voice - Rosario was actually SINGING while she violated Maria with the dildo! Oh, elle est magnifique!

Ah merde - his unruly penis had sprung to attention again. He couldn't help himself. Unzipping the fly of his slacks, Gérard took hold of his throbbing erection, and then leaned against the bathroom wall with his eyes closed. He imagined the scene being played out in the gymnasium and listened to the duet of Rosario's laughter and Maria's howl of distress as her virginal hymen was brutally ripped apart. As he stroked and rubbed his hard flesh between his finger and thumb, another fragile membrane - the one that separated fantasy and reality - also began to weaken. He replaced the whimpering maid in his mind - it was HIS naked, exposed body cruelly splayed on the frame. And Maîtresse Rosario was penetrating his ass, not Maria's cunt. As he conjured the disturbing and exquisitely arousing image, his movements became more energetic. At least he had enough foresight to use a tissue this time...

Rosario pulled the dildo clear of the weeping slave's ravaged pussy. She had only penetrated the girl with two thirds of the broad shaft in case she went too far and ruptured more than Maria's hymen. "So you WERE a virgin after all." As she walked round to her victim's head, she could not resist grinding her hips to increase the delightful sensations in her own filled rectum and vagina. In fact, she was so tantalizingly close to orgasm that the movement made her hiss with pleasure - not an earth-shattering climax but pleasant enough in its own way, like a good antipasto that stimulates the senses without ruining the appetite for the courses to follow.

"Well, slave, I promised you would have something worth licking, and here it is - your very own pussy flavored Popsicle, with added virginal blood." But Maria did not even want to LOOK at the obscene instrument of her brutal deflowering and the LAST thing she wanted to do was taste the red-smeared surface! She was given no choice. Rosario tightly grasped a handful of her maid's hair and forced her head towards the dildo. "You WILL lick the tip, slave, unless you want me to turn that electrical device back on at the maximum setting? No? Well, LICK it clean, bitch. NOW!"

Maria stared down in misery at the pool of tears and saliva that had dripped from her face. She was exhausted, cold, and in desperate agony. And now this! Maria hated the Italian-American bitch for what she had done but she feared her even more. An unwelcome thought shocked her to her core - she now shared an irreversible bond with Mistress Rosario. For this cruel woman (a WOMAN, sweet Jesu) had taken away her virginity and her freedom. Her dreams of gracing the European catwalks as a model and fashion designer were shattered. Maria felt broken, defeated, and despoiled.

Her hair was being gripped so hard she feared it would be torn from her scalp. Maria did not try to resist as Mistress Rosario pulled her head up until her forced-open mouth was so close to the disgusting black violator that she could smell it - the pungent scent of warm, rubber mingled with the sweaty, mildly bitter aroma of her privates...and the stench of blood. Giving out a tiny, animal-like whimper, Maria closed her eyes and put her tongue through the ring in her mouth.

"No, slave. Open your eyes while you lick." Rosario felt a surge of triumph as her new toy lapped the tip of the soiled dildo. Another feeling - tenderness, surprised her. It moved her to stroke Maria's head and softly murmur. "You are a proper woman now, slave. Never forget this - tonight is the night you grew up."

She listened for a while to her new toy's heartfelt sobs and idly played with Maria's hair. As usual, Rosario felt a little deflated now that she had achieved her goal. She accepted it was one of her flaws, that she quickly lost interest in her triumphs and achievements. Oh well, she could still have a little fun with Maria before the end. Now she had this stuck-up little Belgian bitch exactly where she wanted her, she found she was eagerly anticipating the expression on Maria's face when the true nature of her precious father's betrayal was revealed. Now THAT will be worth seeing!

Rosario examined the back of Maria's head. There was the place nonno Marco had taught her about at the base of the skull - where to place the muzzle of your gun for a perfect kill, aiming slightly upwards towards the roof of the mouth, keeping your arm straight then gently squeezing the trigger. Nonno Marco had blooded his only grandchild when she was fifteen, allowing her to execute a two-timing pimp who had tried to blackmail one of the Family's loyal politicians by filming the man indulging his tastes for under-age gay rape. She remembered the low-life's pathetic begging and sniveling, cut short when the contents of his head sprayed against the abattoir wall. Rosario had never told her parents - her obsessively devout momma would have been horrified and her poppa would have accused nonno Marco of corrupting his 'refined young lady'. She briefly wondered if it felt any different to kill a woman - she would have to ask Alfonso, who had refined his murderous skills at dispatching runaway hookers into an art form. But first, there were other matters that needed attending to, such as 'Il Dottore Gérardo', for instance.

Moving softy to give him no warning, Rosario ground her hips deliciously to intensify the effects of the plugs attached to the inside of the crotch strap. The sensations created by the counter-weighted dildoes were very agreeable, particularly when she practiced her pelvic floor exercises. Reaching for the catch, she swiftly opened the bathroom door, took in the scene, and tried not to laugh.

"Goodness me, Gérard - I hope you haven't totally 'spent' yourself!" Rosario grinned at his obvious embarrassment on being found masturbating. "If you have, it would be SUCH a disappointment and if there's one thing that displeases me above all others, it is being disappointed. Don't you agree?"

"I...ah, err...oui, Maîtresse." Mon Dieu! He had called her 'Mistress'! What was happening to him? Gérard felt so humiliated, caught at the moment of ejaculation as this dominant woman towered above him. "Excusez-moi, mademoiselle, je n'ai pas..."

She cut him off. "Now is not the time for feeble apologies. You will make it up to me later, Gérard." He flinched at her emphasis on the word 'will' but made no objection - good. "Fetch Alfonso and the others. I think Maria is ready to entertain them."

*****

Squatting over the hole in the floor to relieve herself, Caitlin averted her eyes from the camera pointing down from the corner of the cell. Her life was reduced to a monotonous, cruel routine. Chained by her neck, she had no clothes, only a thin plastic-covered mattress, and no company. The cell light was on all the time and there was no window so she had no idea whether it was day or night.

Every so often, the chain from her metal collar was pulled up through a hole in the ceiling until she was forced to stand straight to avoid choking. Once she was secured, a tiny, elderly oriental woman in a black dress would come in but she never spoke or made a sound. The first time she hosed Caitlin down, she screamed in panic but the water was warm and she was then given a large towel to dry herself. The woman never smiled, ignored Caitlin's attempts to communicate, and would simply hand her a hairbrush then silently replenish the two bowls that were filled with little tasteless crackers and water. Caitlin was even allowed to clean her teeth. There was something else she had noticed. The little fingers on both of the old woman's hands were missing.

Nobody was particularly cruel towards her. She wasn't being physically or sexually abused by her captors like they had done on the ship but she was being treated like an animal and she felt terribly isolated. Why had she been abducted? Was it because her father was an American senator? He would be so worried and Caitlin took no comfort in knowing he would be doing everything in his power to rescue her. They were very close ever since her mother had died in a multiple pile-up when she was ten. Her baby brother had also been killed in the fiery carnage on the freeway. Father and daughter had held hands in the soft rain at the cemetery as the large coffin and its tiny companion were lowered into the joint grave. "Don't worry, daddy," she had bravely whispered as she squeezed his large hand. "I will look after you." The tears he had been holding back for her sake came flooding out and little Caitlin joined her father's embrace in grief and love. She hated leaving home to attend Harvard but they talked on the phone every day. He had been so proud of her announcement that she wanted to be a human rights lawyer. Poor daddy - he must be so worried.

The chain from her collar was being pulled up again but she had only just been cleaned and fed! Something was different. She soon had to stand on tiptoe. This time, the chain was too tight - she would choke and hang! The cell door was flung open. Two burly oriental men came over. One pinned her arms behind her back and manacled her wrists together while the other man kicked her feet apart then clamped cuffs on the ends of a short chain around her ankles.

When one of the unsmiling men held up a ring gag on a leather strap and pointed to her mouth, she began to cry. "Please! Oh don't, please don't rape me! My father is...UURRGGHH!!!" But he had simply nodded to his companion who yanked up and held the chain from her collar with one muscular arm. Caitlin dangled, gurgling and choking in terror. Her eyes bulged as her feet writhed in a desperate dance in search of firm ground. Just when she began to lose the battle for life, she was released and held up by her arms until she recovered.

The stern-faced oriental lifted up the ring gag a second time. Caitlin tried to plead with her tear-filled eyes but when she felt her collar being pulled upwards again, she quickly opened her mouth. The large ring tasted horrible, its leather cover was pitted with bite marks and her mouth was forced as far open as it would possibly go. By the time the buckle had been severely tightened behind her head with the ring firmly wedged behind her front teeth, she was shaking and weeping in fearful anticipation. The man behind again took a firm hold of her upper arms, pinning her back against his chest. His colleague slowly lifted a long metal object inches away from her face. Opening his mouth, he put out his tongue and waited. She stared, uncomprehendingly at his gesture and forced herself to look at the instrument in his hand. The shiny, stainless steel object looked like a cross between locking forceps and barbecue tongs! Noticing her horrified reaction, the man smiled and opened the wide snout apart to reveal the four inward-pointing curved spikes that would pierce, grip and pull whatever was caught between these metal fangs.

Caitlin felt her stomach churn in revulsion as the meaning of the man's gesture hit home. He wanted - oh God, NO! He actually expected her to stick her own tongue through the ring so he could seize it and then he would do...w-what?

There was nothing she could do to resist. Chained, firmly held and completely at their mercy, she knew they would easily choke her again until she submitted. With her mouth readily forced open, the man could simply reach in and draw out her tongue with the savage, pointed instrument but he wanted her to co-operate in her own torture! What was he going to do to her poor tongue? Caitlin faced a stark choice: comply and endure the cruelty of the tongs, or resist only to suffer even more then still endure the crushing metallic bite inside her prized apart mouth. Her assailant frowned impatiently. He seized hold of the hair on her scalp to keep her head still and moved the vicious pliers towards her parted lips. Trembling in abject fear, Caitlin finally put out her tongue and squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that she would not like to see what was about to happen.

The pain was indescribable. She howled and clawed at her own buttocks with her cuffed hands and pulled up her right leg as far as the ankle chain would allow. Caitlin could hear her own screams echoing around the concrete cell as the man squeezed the jaws closed on her tongue. She tasted her own salty blood as the four sharp teeth punctured her flesh, driven deeper with each horrible click of the locking forceps. When her torturer released her hair and pulled her tongue as far out through the ring as possible, Caitlin began to gasp and struggle while her eyes grew huge in terror. The other man now held her in such a tight, bear-like hug that even breathing was barely possible. The man in front transferred the clamp to his left hand but did not ease the tension on her cruelly distended tongue. Instead, he smiled once more and held up a short, deeply serrated, red-stained fish gutting knife!

Oh God - he's going to cut out my tongue! Caitlin gurgled and moaned in shocked disbelief as she watched the instrument of her imminent mutilation disappear below her vision. She could feel the cold, flat blade against the edge of her mouth, beginning to gently rub up and down across her lips as the left side of her tongue stung with awful pain. Nooooo, NOOOOO!!!

The sawing stopped almost as soon as it had begun. Caitlin opened her eyes. The little oriental women had returned and was tugging urgently on her torturer's right sleeve. He turned in irritation as she made agitated croaking noises with her opened mouth and showed him several rings in the palm of her wizened, mutilated hand. It was the first time Caitlin had heard her utter any sounds and she instantly understood that the woman's tongue had been removed just as her own was about to be! The old lady handed the furious-looking man a clipboard covered with intricate characters. Caitlin wondered if it was Chinese or perhaps Japanese. Was she in Japan?

The man frowned as he read but then smiled even more cruelly than before. Whatever the document said had pleased him immensely and that made her even more fearful of her treatment in his hands. When he handed the clipboard and the vicious knife to the woman, Caitlin relaxed slightly. But her relief was short-lived. The man nodded to his assistant who put his left arm tightly around her collared neck and seized a handful of the hair on top of her head to prevent any movement. The man in front accepted a wooden handled skewer from the little woman and waited while she played the flame from a small gas torch on the sharp tip. Caitlin had to endure several endless minutes while the broad needle was heated from dull orange to a bright, yellow-white glow.

She must have screamed as her tongue was pierced. Caitlin certainly heard someone's high-pitched shrieks of agonized despair as the skewer pushed and cauterized its way through the tip from top to bottom. There was also the smell - the unmistakable odor of burnt flesh, like barbecued pork. Mercifully, she lost consciousness and the excruciating pain faded into gentle oblivion...

...Only to return with renewed force as she came round in severe agony. Caitlin was briefly disoriented. She was lying on her back on the concrete floor of her cell. She tasted blood in her mouth and something hard clicked against her teeth. She began to scream again. Her tongue was so sore! But so was her nose, making her eyes stream in response to the pain. Her ears felt on fire too. Caitlin lifted her head and stared down at her aching, bleeding breasts - her nipples had been pierced through and ringed!

And they weren't finished yet. The heavily built assistant was prizing her thighs apart with his large hands. Caitlin could see the bulge of his arm muscles, as her legs were forced open. She whimpered but he ignored her only to dig his fingers deeper into the soft flesh behind her knees. The other man held the dreadful white-hot skewer in his right hand and needle-nosed pliers in the other. He knelt down and reached up between the tops of her thighs. "Uhhh...UUHH!!!!' Caitlin cried urgently in panic, shaking her ring-gagged head from side to side in utter dismay as she realized what he was about to do. The torturer glanced up, smiled broadly, and then returned to his cruel task. She knew he was taking his time, deliberately extending her torment. He began to lower the glowing tip towards her most sensitive flesh, and then paused as though a fresh thought had come to mind. Breaking into a cruel smile, he handed the skewer back to the old woman to keep hot, taking what appeared to be a small toothbrush out of the top pocket of his overalls and squeezing a small amount of red paste from a tiny tube on the bristled end.

Caitlin writhed and fought uselessly with her arms fettered and pinned underneath her body. With expert skill, her assailant masturbated her by tormenting her engorged clitoris with the brush, employing circular motions and brisk, upward strokes. Her sensitive nub began to itch, sting, and then burn as the chili paste was worked inside the peeled-back hood of her inner folds. She howled and bashed the base of her skull against the hard floor, trying to batter herself unconscious to escape the excruciating and arousing pleasure-pain. The old woman swiftly knelt to clamp her head between her vice-like thighs. Using surprisingly strong arms, she pressed down Caitlin's forehead so all she could do was pant in growing agitation.

Caitlin tried so very hard not to cum. She bit down on the ring gag and really tried to prevent the intense, painful climax from overwhelming her body. She failed. As she howled in the lingering throes of the third and fiercest orgasm, she felt the sharp pinch of the pliers on her distended, swollen member. Her torturer critically examined the glowing tip of the re-heated skewer then returned it to the blowtorch's intense flame. Caitlin could only look on in horror until he satisfied himself the needle was finally ready to be applied to the front of her splayed-open cleft. She tensed, holding her breath and tightly squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the awful moment to arrive. He held off until she exhaled and relaxed then made her convulse in shock as she was cruelly pierced down below. She didn't feel the ring being threaded through her mutilated clitoris but she knew it would be there, just like the other rings that now violated her ears, nose, tongue and nipples. Her chief torturer took his time to scrutinize the new piercings. Lifting up the miniature blowtorch, he frightened her again by employing the flame to singe away the stubble of her regrowing pubic hair with rapid passes across her tender skin. The stench was terrible but she was not burned, only scared witless. Smiling with satisfaction, the torturer lightly stroked a fingernail along her puckered cunt then stood up.

The men collected their instruments and left the cell without a backwards glance. Then the old woman removed the ring gag and surprised Caitlin by leaning down to lightly kiss her forehead, as if she was welcoming a fellow initiate into a sacred fellowship.

This brief moment of the only kindness Caitlin had been shown since her abduction was abruptly shattered. Echoes of screaming from what sounded like a young girl in desperate distress were coming through the doorway. Caitlin tried to lift her head up to see what was happening but the old woman pushed her back down. The shrieking was getting more frantic. Caitlin looked imploringly into the sorrowful face of the old woman who was stroking her brow. As though making her mind up about something, the woman slightly shifted her position, turning her back towards the camera which was now obscured from Caitlin's vision. Carefully watching the cell doorway, the aged oriental covered Caitlin's eyes when she tried to look where the agonized cries were coming from. Then she slid her hands very slowly to the sides of Caitlin's neck. The woman smiled down in gentle compassion and pressed her thumbs into the sides of Caitlin's throat, just behind her jaw. Caitlin distantly heard the other girl's dreadful howls for a few more seconds before everything receded into blessed darkness.

Later, left alone on the floor of the cell, still chained, Caitlin slowly came to in agony. Every movement brought a new wave of pain. Looking around, she realized the heavy, steel door remained open. Across the harshly lit corridor, she could see inside the opposite cell. A naked, Malayan-looking teenage girl stood in fetters. Caitlin thought the girl was very attractive with her long, jet hair cascading to her waist. She was struggling on the points of her toes to stop herself choking in her chained up collar. The girl was bleeding from her mouth, breasts and heavily from between her legs. Caitlin felt sick as she figured the girl's tongue, nipples, and clitoris - perhaps her cunt lips too - must have been brutally cut away from her mutilated body.

Making whimpering noises like an injured animal, the girl was obviously weakening as her toes slipped about in the growing red pool under her slim body. She looked sadly at Caitlin for a moment with her large, dark eyes then twisted herself around with difficulty as though she did not want her fellow prisoner to see her horribly disfigured body. With a shock, Caitlin noticed this girl was also missing both of her little fingers like the old woman but there was no blood seeping from the stumps on her hands.

Caitlin knew the girl was dying, slowly losing strength as she became too tired to stand on her toes. Aggravated by loss of blood and shock, the girl finally stopped gurgling to hang limply in her collar. Her body spun round on the chain, coming to rest facing the cell doorway while urine trickled down her dusky thighs to mingle with the slick, red pool on the cell floor. Caitlin had never seen anyone die before and knew her captors had wanted her to witness the girl's slow execution. She looked up in hatred at the camera pointing at her from the rough gray, concrete ceiling. "Bastards! You sadistic, evil bastards!" she thickly lisped.

Then Caitlin made two solemn promises to herself - that she WOULD survive, no matter what cruelties she had to endure, and that she would exact a terrible revenge on ALL those responsible for her abduction, rape, and torture. They would pay dearly and the vengeful thought gave Caitlin renewed hope and purpose. But there was nothing she could do right now except weep for her poor, mutilated body and for the dead girl in the opposite cell. Pressing her temple to the rough wall, she mournfully whispered, tears streaming down her face and with her injured tongue swollen inside her mouth. "Daddy, ohh d-daddy!"

HARVEST OF TEARS

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 11

By slave ruthie

It had not been the best of rides but it was certainly exhilarating.

Horse and human thundered across the immaculate lawns without a care for the ruined turf. Blond mane flew in unison with dark hair in the crisp, dawn breeze as the Arab stallion conveyed his mistress home from their early morning gallop. Rosario dismounted, whispered her thanks into her steed's ear, and then handed the reins to a waiting groom. He nervously lowered his eyes and stammered in response to her sharp instructions. Turning to leave, she paused. "Giuseppe. I almost forgot - how is your mother?"

"My mother? She is very sick, padrona." The young man was amazed that the padrona even knew his name, never mind knowing about his mother's terminal illness. Now that she could no longer work in the laundry, everybody depended on him - particularly his many younger brothers and sisters. Although the Cosa Nostra gave a little allowance since his hit-man father had been sentenced to life imprisonment for killing a judge, it was never enough. He sighed. "For her it is very bad, padrona. It is soon her end, I think."

"Then why are you still over here?"

Giuseppe turned away to avoid her penetrating gaze. "I have little money, padrona. I send home my pay for the family and I cannot afford the fare."

Rosario frowned then spoke into her radio. "Alfonso? Have the Learjet ready at LaGuardia in one hour for departure to Palermo. No, not for me - it is for young Giuseppe from the stables." She turned to the gaping seventeen year-old. "Here, give me the reins. That was good work last night, by the way. For a young man, you controlled yourself very well. Now get your things and report to Alfonso."

Giuseppe sank to his knees and tried to kiss her hand, overwhelmed by his employer's compassion. "Padrona! Grazie, grazie!"

"Enough of that. Family is everything and when you work for us, you are part of our Family too. Next time you have a problem, you tell me - capische? Now go. You leave in ten minutes - RUN!" Yes, she thought, watching the lad dash for the servants' quarters, the Family really IS everything.

Rosario patted her horse and led him to be rubbed down. Oasis Fire was certainly ready to be entered in the Dubai endurance race but sadly, she would not be riding him. Nonno Marco would not permit her to risk her neck, as she was the sole heir to the Family's vast financial and criminal network. "I have lost my only son and I cannot lose my only grandchild too, my sweet Rosario. It would break my heart and your death would start the greatest gang war for succession the world has ever seen. It would tear our Family's empire apart." She knew he was right even though her father's assassination meant her childhood dreams of competitive riding could never now be fulfilled.

Oasis Fire breathed on her neck as they entered the stable courtyard. "Not this morning, boy. I have another pony to deal with. Tomorrow, I promise you, I will tend you personally." The horse appeared to look reproachfully at his mistress but dutifully entered his stall. A typical male, she thought with amusement, wanting to be the center of attraction all the time.

The occupant of the adjoining stall blinked in the sudden, harsh daylight then pressed against the concrete wall in terror when she saw who had entered. Rosario took her time, enjoying Maria's evident fear, savoring how humiliated and helpless her new slave must be feeling. The naked girl had been cruelly buckled into a stiff, leather body harness and full-head bridle. Maria's hands and feet were trapped inside hobbled pony boots and gloves that ended with dainty hooves, making her appear like a heavily restrained foal. On Rosario's explicit instructions, the inside of the broad leather strap between Maria's bruised and red-latticed thighs held two thick plugs in place that would be terribly uncomfortable reminders of her gang rape several hours earlier by most of the male staff and guards. How the girl had piteously moaned, cried and finally wailed in misery as the men queued up for their turn with the stuck-up Belgian tart, reducing her from an inexperienced virgin to a well-used whore in a single night.

Rosario had orchestrated the marathon session, choosing which equipment was used to restrain and hurt the girl, and what sexual positions were employed for maximum cruelty and violation. At one point, she had held Maria's head up by her hair while she half-hung in spreader bars over a padded bench, as one man brutally shafted her ass from behind. When Rosario forced her ring-gagged mouth towards Giuseppe's waiting cock, the look of abject misery in Maria's eyes was beyond price. It was hardly surprising that the girl was so frightened by her mere presence in the stall.

Rosario lightly tapped her red crop against the thigh of her jodhpurs. "Trot over here, little pony, or would you prefer to be whipped again?" Despite her restrictive fetters, Maria struggled across the straw on her hoofed hands and feet then knelt as near to her mistress as the long chain on her collar would allow. "Good girl - now that was not so difficult, was it?" Rosario looked down at the former maid. Maria's back was still covered in red welts from the previous night's punishments. Rosario raised the crop and took a pace back. "Touch the end with your mouth shield." Maria leaned forward until her collar chain swung clear of the stable floor and tried to press the leather base of the penis gag against the crop's tip.

But she could not get far enough forward. Rosario moved the crop just out of reach. "Are you being disobedient? Do you want to be punished, slut?" She brought the tip tantalizingly close again but not too close. "I told you to touch the tip, slut." With a desperate moan, Maria tried again, pulling on her collar chain so tightly that she was beginning to choke. Whenever she almost reached the end of the crop, padrona Rosario placed it just out of range. "Are you deliberately trying to annoy me, pony-slut?" Maria wailed in desperation and lunged forwards, nearly throttling herself in the process. She almost managed to touch the crop.

Almost was not good enough.

The crop whistled through the air to make contact with Maria's backside. "I can see you still have much to learn. Cesare?" A white-haired older man immediately answered to the padrona's call. He scowled down at the quivering "pony". "I want this creature fucked hard on the hour, every hour. No opening is to be left unused. See that she pleases her lovers in every way and punish her severely if she fails. No lasting injury to her body, mind. I know how skillful you are with pain, Cesare. Nonno Marco told me you can make the bravest man crumble without leaving a single mark." Maria was so frightened at her words that she wet the straw. "Dirty little pony-slut. If you do not satisfy Cesare and his men, you will be mated with Oasis Fire. That should sell well on our websites, I think. A cute little ponygirl being taken from behind by a fully grown stallion - I wonder how many inches you could take." Maria shook her bridled head in horrified disbelief. "You are quite the little star, you know - last night's movie went online a couple of hours ago. By the time I set off for my morning ride, it had already been downloaded nearly 4,000 times." She ignored her ex-maid's wails of anguish and left the girl in Cesare's devastatingly capable hands.

As she strode into the lobby, Rosario noticed two things: the marble flagstone shone immaculately, except for the trail of dirt she was leaving behind her riding boots, and that Charles was standing over his naked slave who was scrubbing the floor with a small brush and a bucket of water.

Master Charles scowled at the line of muddy footprints from the vestibule to where Rosario now stood and jerked hard on his slave's leash. "Again!" He brought down the split leather tawse with his other arm to add another stinging red stripe to the others on Alexa's backside. The cruel strap lashed repeatedly, punctuating his angry words. "You - will - clean - it - all - again - until - it - is - perfect!"

Rosario remained cool although she was surprised by his fury towards the cowering girl. And Alexa appeared very distressed as she tried to submit to the excessive punishment. In fact, the little slave looked confused and frightened, as though she could not understand her master's rage towards her. Something was badly wrong. Rosario decided to intervene and gently touched his arm to stay the next blow. "Charles, dear - this is absolutely priceless." Her throaty chuckle caught him off guard. "It is so amusing to see my ward scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees like this! Do you have any idea how wealthy our little cleaning slut is?"

"No. Why should I care about that?" His terse reply was loudly abrupt and echoed around the vaulted ceiling.

Rosario saw that he had not meant to be rude but that he was fighting to control his temper. It was very out of character. "Well, let us just say that one of her trust’s smaller properties is the hotel complex that contains your Organization's New York Center on the top floors." She smiled and absently patted Alexa's trembling head, as if she was greeting a dog. "And to think she is cleaning my hall." He had lowered the leather strap that obviously terrified Alexa. Good. "Could you spare her for the morning? I promise to look after your little slave."

Charles almost refused but knew he had nearly lost control and was unfairly taking out his feelings of long-suppressed rage on Alexa. It was not her fault. He was furious with himself for not executing her a second time. He had failed in his duty, just as he had failed to save his pregnant wife and the shame and grief followed him like a curse. Why was the simple fact of owning a personal slave so damned complicated? "I do not think...oh just TAKE her then!" He thrust his slave's leash into Rosario's hand, startling both women. "Look, Rosario, have you seen Gérard anywhere? I tried to find him earlier and he did not answer his door."

"Ah, well that is my fault. You see, I kept the good doctor tied up most of the night." Rosario returned his puzzled glance with an enigmatic grin. "I can release him if you need him back, Charles."

"No, if Gérard is occupied on your behalf it will simply have to wait. Just forget it." With that, he stormed off - not even bothering to warn Alexa to obey Rosario without question.

Slave and Mistress watched him leave. "Well! What on earth have you done to make your master so angry with you?" Tears spilled from the kneeling girl's eyes as she shook her head in confusion. "Come along, little Alexa. You are not totally mute – I know you can whisper what you did wrong."

Alexa followed the line of her leash to Rosario's hand but was unable to meet her gaze. Her master had roughly shaken her awake in the early hours of the morning to drag her downstairs and make her clean the hall floor in Rosario's mansion. She must have scrubbed it at least five times but he had never been satisfied, repeatedly thrashing her on her buttocks and thighs with the horrid tawse like her mother had done when she wet herself in childhood. Her master had been furious with her but she had no idea why. It terrified her to see him so angry and upset. "N-not know...d-don't know, m-mistress!" She felt cool fingers tilting her chin upwards.

"Look at me. Good girl. Now, you are telling me the truth?" The tear-streaked, elfin-faced slave peered directly into her eyes and silently nodded without blinking or glancing away. "Bene. Well, perhaps he does not know either, little slave. Men can be very unpredictable and highly emotional for the slightest of reasons." Rosario's attempt at humor fell flat, the little slave obviously being too timid and upset to smile back. "Oh, come ON girl. I am not going to eat you...although the thought is quite tempting! I want us to be friends."

She stroked the slave's light brown hair and framed her face in her hands, softly murmuring, "You and I are so different and yet we have so much in common." Pulling her up by the leash, she startled Alexa by kissing her deeply on her mouth. The effect was gratifying as the little slave staggered then swooned forwards with half-lidded eyes while their tongues danced. The embrace lasted longer than either expected, leaving statuesque mistress and diminutive slave eying each other speculatively as they re-appraised their relationship.

"Well, then. Time for my morning swim. Tell me, little slave, would you like to come?"

The ambiguous question was not lost on Alexa who could still taste Rosario's sweet mouth on her own tingling lips. Her master's unexplained temper briefly forgotten, she shyly nodded and bobbed a curtsey to the Latin beauty towering above her.

"Good. Meet me in the smaller pool beneath the conservatory where you ate last night. I have something to attend to first but it will only take a few minutes."

Alexa watched her leave then picked up the brush and bucket to return them to the cupboard under the staircase. Then it hit her - she was on her own, unfettered, unrestrained, and free to go where she wished for the first time since Miller had abducted her off the streets of New York. Master Charles had always kept her chained in public until now. Her newfound freedom brought her no pleasure, instead she felt oddly lost and unsettled.

Rosario went up the sweeping staircase two steps at a time, peeling off her riding clothes in the long corridor and leaving them where they fell. By the time she reached the doors of her private quarters, she was completely naked. Gérard was exactly where she had left him. It was not surprising since she had chained him to the radiator, cuffing his hands behind his back but leaving his legs free. He glowered over the gag as she knelt down to stroke his calf. "I am so sorry about last night. You see, I was quite tired supervising my new slave's initiation and I simply had to get some rest. Then this morning, you were still asleep on the floor so I left you lying - I hope you are not too disappointed." Rosario slid the handcuff key a little closer to his foot so it was no longer frustratingly out of reach. "At least you did not wet the carpet. Now I simply must dash - you can free yourself I am sure. Oh by the way, Charles was looking for you and he is in one hell of a bad mood about something so best watch your step, okay?" She paused to watch his contortions as he frantically dragged the key with his toes nearer his trapped hands before he had an accident and soaked the floor. With an affectionate wave, she was gone.

Rosario dived into the pool and startled Alexa by swimming under her to surface just in front of her face. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." Alexa felt herself being pulled close for another devastating kiss that left her gasping for air. Rosario guided her across the pool then helped her up on the sandstone edge to sit with her feet dangling in the water. Alexa did not resist when her companion pushed her thighs open and moved her head closer to her nether lips. "Such a pretty little ring." She trembled when Rosario's mouth began to suck the tiny nub of pierced flesh at the top of her inner labia. "Mmm. Very nice. Lean back, little Alexa. I want to put my fingers…yes, good slave." Rosario pressed the ball of her left thumb against Alexa's anus then slid two fingers into her moist, pouting sex. The effect was incredible. When Rosario's tongue began to circle and flick her ringed clit, Alexa gasped and panted in shocked arousal. "Did you think I learned nothing at that godforsaken convent school?" Rosario grinned up at her lover's flushed face and returned to her exquisite task.

*****

"I'm not very happy about this, girl. The area's not completely cleared and the Taliban's gone to ground in these parts." Sergeant Gomez scanned the tumbledown cemetery uneasily and glanced at the stunning passenger next to him in the Hummer. "You sure you know where the grave is?"

Guljana fingered the seashell she had carried all the way from Antigua and forced herself to look at the Marine's rough face. "Yes, sar-jent Gomais, please - it will not take long times."

"Okay then. Stay in clear view and come straight back here. I wanna be on the main road before sunset." He watched the girl slowly walking towards the bullet-shattered headstones. Fuck, she was built! The military jumpsuit fitted her like a glove, the light cotton creasing and writhing as it rode inside her butt crack. Gomez wondered why the Senator had brought this one all the way back from the States - if she was his slave-bitch, he wouldn't let her out of his site. No, he'd have her naked on the end of a chain, working that sweet mouth of hers where it belonged…wrapped around the end of his dick.

There was another woman in the graveyard. Gomez watched her through the binoculars. She was just a village peasant, dressed from head to toe in the shabby rags that passed for traditional dress in this devastated corner of hell called Afghanistan. Satisfied the villager presented no obvious threat to the Senator's slave, Gomez reached for a Marlboro and settled back in the driver's seat of the Hummer to listen to the military radio for any signs of alarm.

It was so difficult to fight back the tears. Guljana clutched the beautiful seashell and threaded her way past the smashed grave markers towards the final resting place of her mother, Zahida. She knelt with head bowed low, and remembered their promise to write each other's names in the sand on the shores of America. Tiny Guljana had no idea what a beach or even a sea would look like then but she had fulfilled her side of the bargain. If her mother would never know how vast and wide an ocean was, she would bring part of the ocean to her. Whispering a tiny prayer, Guljana carefully placed the shell on the mound of rock and dust.

"Jana? It is really you? JANA?" She whirled and looked up into the incredulous face of Zia's mother. "Your clothes - you are wearing the demons' clothes! We thought you were dead, taken with my daughter by the American demons!"She couldn't dash her hopes, no matter how unreal they were. "Zia, she...we were taken to America. I don't know where she is - we were separated. I'm so sorry." The woman sank down beside her in despair. "Please, my grandfather…my home. Please, what happened after I was abducted?"

Zia's mother narrowed her eyes, staring at her in a calculating way. "Your grandfather? Why, he lives still. He is very sick but he is still alive. Your house is destroyed - bombed by the American demons along with half our village." She looked over her shoulder at the military vehicle at the cemetery gate and slyly whispered, "You wish to see your grandfather?"

"Yes! Oh please - I'll get the soldier to drive us there!" She stood up, ready to run to Sergeant Gomez with the amazing news.

"No - no demons! The shock will kill your grandfather if they come. It is not far. I will take you now. We will be quick." She began to tug at the sleeve of Guljana's jumpsuit. "Hurry, before the demon sees us!"

Guljana paused, uncertain what to do. She had promised her Senate-Master that she would not leave the sergeant's sight but she so dearly wanted to see her grandfather. It would only be for a few minutes. She would hurry back to the cemetery and everything would be all right. "Please, why are you being so kind? I thought you hated my family."

The old woman paused. "We rejoiced when the true followers of Islam rid our lands of the Soviet devils but they were nothing compared to these American demons. Shaitan rules us now and Allah punishes us by hiding His eyes. True, your mother was a witch and a whore but you are from our village even if you are a half-breed. It will have to do." She beckoned urgently. "Now COME before we are seen!"

*****

"Phew! Sometimes I wonder why we bother with men at all. If they were not needed for having children, I believe we females could do very nicely on our own." Rosario kissed the side of Alexa's head and stroked her ringed breast. She added somberly, "The men I seem to attract have so far proved untrustworthy, selfish, and unreliable...unlike most women." She smiled and lightly tapped the tip of Alexa's nose. "I think we make better relationships too - particularly when you find a lover-girl who knows exactly how to reach a certain spot!" Sitting up on the massive bed, Rosario confronted the little slave who lay outstretched in post-orgasmic abandon. "So, come on…did I do it for you too? Be truthful - I never punish honesty but I despise people that tell me what they think I want to hear."

Alexa reached up and hugged her tightly, whispering in a tiny, breathless voice, "Yes, Mistress, umm, padrona - it was wonderful but sex with my Master is wonderful too."

Instead of being in trouble for her candor, she was rewarded by laughter. "Good girl - you see? I am not a monster, am I?"

"No, Mistress. I mean, not to me…not, umm, now."

Rosario stood and pulled her flushed companion towards the bathroom. "I can, however, be an absolute BITCH when required. Come on, I need a shower and so do you, little slave. I am seeing some important people shortly and I would like you with me. But first, I want you to scrub my back."

After their shower, Alexa had helped Rosario get ready. She looked magnificent in a silver lamé dress that clung to her figure like a coat of metallic paint. Then Rosario had tenderly brushed her ward's hair until it shone before tying it into two girlish bunches with pink ribbon. She even gave Alexa a light blue Gingham dress, navy knickers, and knee length white socks to wear before taking some restraints from an ornate box on her bedside table. The dress was several sizes too big but with the chrome waist chain cinched and locked tightly above her hips, it did not look too baggy. "I really do not know why I kept my uniform, considering how I hated wearing it so much." Rosario grinned at the sight of Alexa in secure fetters over her old outfit from l'École De La Magdalene. "Maybe if you had been in my dorm, I would not have tried so hard to get expelled!" She paused and lightly brushed her ward's soft cheeks with the slightest hint of rouge. "Much better. You will fit the part perfectly," she added without further explanation.

Alexa looked very sweet and innocent in the schoolgirl's clothing, simple and uncomplicated - unlike everything else in her life. "You are so dangerous." Rosario whispered as she kissed her young lover's forehead. "It would be such an easy thing to fall madly in love with you."

She didn't feel dangerous. If anything, Alexa felt troubled and confused. This powerful, sophisticated woman was treating her with kindness and love. Was she betraying her master by responding? He'd been so hard on her lately but she didn't know why. She felt caught in the center of some conflict she couldn't understand. Could he possibly be jealous of Rosario? Surely, her beloved master knew she was totally his? Oh, everything was so confusing.

Attaching a leash to her collar, Rosario tugged her towards the door. Alexa looked down at the slim cuffs that were locked to the front of her waist chain. With a shudder, she recalled that it was exactly how they'd fettered her in the nightmare. But she was in a palatial mansion, not a harsh prison. She trotted behind the mistress of the house, lifting her feet high enough to keep the ankle chain off the floor as her first master, Stephen, had taught her. Every time she thought of him, her eyes felt moist with sadness at his passing. He'd rescued her, turned her bleak, unhappy life into one filled with wonder, excitement and love. True, a slave's life was also fraught with pain and danger but she'd never felt so alive and fulfilled. "Oh master Stephen," she thought, "I miss you so very much."

Alexa knelt next to the large chair in the reception room adjoining Rosario's office. She was tethered to the arm by a red, leather leash from her collar. Alexa looked up in awe at the young woman sitting majestically in the heavy, wooden seat. Rosario reached down and idly played with her collar, finding the exact place on Alexa's neck that made her shiver as only the left half of her body erupted in Goosebumps. Rosario leaned over and whispered, "Your master told me about your neck, little slave. Now, listen closely - do not utter a sound during this meeting. Stay very still and carefully observe our visitors. I will ask for your thoughts after they have gone."

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door then Alfonso entered. "Padrona Rosario...schiava Alexa." His greeting to both women was not lost on Rosario who tugged on the leash, prompting her ward to lower her eyes respectfully.

"Is Maria learning to please under Cesare's supervision?" Rosario crossed her long legs, revealing a glimpse of sheer silken thigh through the slit dress.

"Si, padrona." He shrugged. "She cries much. She is very sore." He tilted his head at Alexa. "Maria has much to learn from this one, I think."

Rosario threw back her head and laughed. "Not only are you a superb knifeman but you are also an excellent judge of character! Send in our guests - I think their hour-long wait has been sufficiently instructive."

When Alfonso returned, he was accompanied by two grim-faced men. One wore a somber dark grey suit and the other a uniform with medals and gold braid. Both looked at the figure kneeling at the side of Rosario's chair in astonishment. "Ah, mayor _______, such a pleasure to see you again. Tell me, how is our fair city today? Is your 'zero tolerance' policy working well? My people tell me it is business as usual for us but very inconvenient for our competitors!"

The older man frowned. "I really must protest about the delay before seeing us, Rosario, we're going be very late for our press conference! Your grandfather would have never made me wait like..."

She cut him dead with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You are only mayor with our Family's blessing. Do not forget your place and in future, you will call me Padrona. Do you understand me?"

The color in the man's face had drained away. He thought better of replying and went silent, looking fearfully in her direction.

"Bene. Nonno Marco told me you were not a stupid man. We do not keep fools on our payroll. We 'retire' them - remember this." Rosario examined the man in uniform who stood there in amazement with his mouth slightly open. "And this must be our new Chief of Police? How nice of you both to come and thank the Forte Foundation. I am sure its donation to the Police Widows and Orphans Benevolent Fund will be useful."

The uniformed man continued to stare at Alexa, eyes popping at her collar and restraints in total conflict with her schoolgirl innocence. "What in the Lord's name is going on here?" The Chief of Police pointed an accusing finger at the kneeling slave. "This...this is OBSCENE!"

The mayor muttered urgently at his morally outraged companion. "Shut up. Shut the fuck UP, for both our sakes!"

Rosario stroked Alexa's hair. "A pretty little creature, isn't she? At least she has reached the age of consent, unlike the young girl who sucked you off in the back of your church hall after choir practice last month. You do know she tried to kill herself afterwards? I am sure my good friend, the editor of the New York Times, would dearly love to receive a copy of the recording we took." She casually kicked a video cassette across the polished oak floor from beneath her chair to the stammering man's feet. "So you can lose the pious, holier-than-though bullshit with me - unless you want the world to watch you stuffing your pathetic little cock into that pre-teen's mouth and coming all over her lovely young face."

The mayor sighed. Ignoring his new Chief of Police who was stammering in shock, he tried to salvage the meeting with the future head of the Di ________ Family. "Rosar...Padrona - exactly what is the Forte Foundation? A million dollars is a very generous donation!"

Rosario turned and smiled down at a startled Alexa who stared back up in confusion. "The Forte Foundation? You are looking at her, mister mayor."

Forte…FORTE? Alexa gasped as she recognized Uncle Armando’s surname. He had been so kind when she was set loose on the streets of New York. In return, Miller had tortured and killed him. She would have covered her face and wept but the waist chain stopped her from lifting up her cuffed hands. Alexa felt her head being gently patted – Rosario had noticed her distress.

"The girl? But she's in chains!" The mayor swallowed, thinking hard. "Who is she? Is she your captive? Why is she kneeling like...like that?"

"Oh, calm down. You do not need to know her name. She belongs to a guest of mine and I am her trustee. This is all you need to know. Anyway, I thought you came here to express your appreciation. Well, gentlemen?"

Alexa gaped in stunned amazement as the Mayor and Police Chief of New York crouched down in turn to shake her cuffed hand and offer their thanks.

"Now leave us. You two have a photo call to attend. Remember to promote 'zero tolerance for organized crime', gentlemen." Watching them go, Rosario smiled down at her companion. "I think that went very well, don't you?"

Before she could think of a reply, Alexa's tummy rumbled so loudly that she forgot her tears for poor Uncle Armando and blushed with embarrassment.

"When did you last eat, Alexa?” Rosario chuckled while she untied the leash from her chair's arm.

"Umm, l-last night, mistr...padrona - the s-soup…Lucia’s s-soup!" Grief threatened to overwhelm her again.

"Goodness me! Well, you are going to the kitchens immediately. I shall feed you myself...so long as you promise not to bite!"

*****

"You bloody FOOL - do you want to get us killed? She can easily do that, you know." The mayor sighed and looked in disgust at his companion in the mayoral limousine. "I am not joking - Rosario is deadly, just like her grandfather but worse. She is smarter than Don Marco too. Jesus save us - a woman with beauty, brains, wealth, power...and a ruthless, killer instinct." The police chief stared at him, still dumbstruck after his pedophilic tastes were exposed. "She executed her own fiancé, you know. He was two-timing her for a classy attorney and Rosario found out. I heard that it was the only time anyone has seen her cry - after she blew his brains out. The lawyer disappeared - some people think she ran for her life but I reckon she ended up as pig feed at that ranch upstate they use for the runaway hookers and anyone else that's foolish enough to cross the Family." The mayor waited for a response but got none. "Damn it man, are you listening to me? I am trying to keep you alive, for Christ's sake!"

"That girl, the one in chains - I've seen her face before." The chief of the NYPD had finally found his voice.

"What in hell are you talking about, you stupid idiot?"

"The girl in chains. The one dressed like a schoolgirl, kneeling by that witch's chair. I am sure her mug shot was going around the precincts recently. I'm sure she was a missing federal witness for something big."

The mayor snorted in contempt. Why on earth had he appointed this fool for a police chief? "Look, if you don't want to end up as a smoked ham in a delicatessen in Little Italy, you'd better forget all about that girl NOW!"

*****

She could not take much more of this. Caitlin bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming in pain when she relieved herself. She would not give the bastards the pleasure of hearing her cry out. It was her only resistance, all she had left.

After the piercings came the rapes. The men used her for sex whenever they wished. Sometimes a lone guard would enter her cell, either to force her bruised thighs open or pin her face down on the thin mattress and bugger her mercilessly. She had tried pleading, begging them to stop or at least use protection. In desperation, she had mentioned the risks of pregnancy or HIV but it was useless.

One of her abusers, the thin-faced man who had forced rings through her sensitive flesh, laughed and whispered in her ear as he came inside her ravaged cunt. "Hah! You not get bay-bee - Russkies fix for us." He sat up and savagely poked the scars on either side of her abdomen where she had been injected into her ovaries. "No bay-bee you! No get AIDS you - we get fix you good fuck anytime!" He was jabbing her left arm where she had been painfully injected several times since her arrival in the cell. What did he mean - they actually had an inoculation against HIV? But that was impossible...wasn't it?

The metal door swung open to reveal the cruelly grinning face of the guard who had held her while she was pierced. He was also naked and fingering his huge erection in readiness for her violation. Caitlin's mouth went dry at the sheer size of the huge man's distended penis. It was too big - she would be injured internally! She screamed and fought but with her wrists cuffed behind her back and their overwhelming strength they handled her with ease. The larger man lay on his back while his colleague made her sit down with her anus impaled on the giant's hard erection. The huge man crushed her breasts in his large hands and arched her backwards, ignoring her agonized screams.

The man she thought of as her torturer entered her from the front, wedging her between their bodies as they raped her cunt and ass together. "You learn suck good too." Caitlin's head was twisted sideways. A third man was holding the bulbous tip of his penis against her tightly clamped lips. It was the young oriental killer from the Russian ship! "You suck boss good now or I get needles teach you obey. Dorei, wakarimasu-ka?"

She understood.

When they finished satisfying themselves, the younger man murmured something to the others who bowed to him without a word. Caitlin shuddered as he smiled down at her before leaving the cell.

She was given no time to recover. The chain from her collar hauled her up so she had to stand on tiptoe or choke. The hose and brushes were employed with more roughness than usual. Caitlin coughed and retched when the pipe that had just been up her ass was forced between her teeth to flush the semen from her mouth. The collar and fetters were removed and she crouched on the cell floor wishing she were dead. Her body and tangled hair were roughly dried with cloths then she was half-dragged, half-carried face down along the corridor up several flights of stairs.

The room they took her to was ornate and sumptuously decorated. Semi-naked oriental men, their bodies covered with tattoos, lounged on cushions. They were being served drinks and food by young girls dressed in athletics shorts and blouses. None gave Caitlin more than a glance before returning their attention to the games of dice they were playing on low tables. In the center of the room stood a large, rough wooden post as broad as a telegraph pole. They forced her closer. "Please, no! Please don't hurt me anymore! PLEASE, STOP!" Caitlin's pleas had absolutely no effect as the men dragged her closer to the pole. It had waiting metal cuffs on chains lying at the base, and similar restraints dangling from the top, attached to a winch. Midway up the pole a thin, metal bracket stuck out. She knew she would be cruelly stretched while its narrow ridge dug into her already aching private parts. "No! Oh God, NOOO!"

Their superior strength and her weakened state made it an easy task to fix her wrists and ankles in the metal cuffs. Caitlin whimpered as the winch at the top of the pole began to lift her arms above her head, making her belly press up against the end of the bracket.

Caitlin screamed in fear as the winch clicked again. Notch by notch, she was lifted clear of the floor. The end of the bracket rubbed lower until it teased the front of her waiting cunt. Fighting was useless; in fact, the bastards seemed to enjoy her helpless struggles while she dangled over the pointed ridge aimed up into her abused cleft. When they lowered her until the ridge finally made contact with her clitoris, she moaned in discomfort. Her sore breasts rubbed against the rough pole, making her writhe in agony while the fetters around her ankles were stretched down. Caitlin could only pull herself up a tiny amount to relieve the dreadful pressure on her clit but every time she settled back down again, the pain seemed worse.

"What are you going to do? Please let me down. It hurts...OH MY GOD!" The torturer came over holding what looked like a pair of shears. The razor-sharp blades were stained dark red. He reached up towards her left hand. "No, oh please, PLEASE D-DON'T!" Caitlin wailed when she realized what he was about to do. The edges began to bite on the base of her little finger. This wasn't happening. Surely, he was just trying to frighten her? They must know she was trained as a classical pianist. He really couldn't be about to...

"AAAIIIEEE!"

She would never forget the sickening noise of the blades crunching through flesh and bone, the pain like fire in her mutilated hand, the slickness of her blood running down her arm, the stench of the poker cauterizing the wound...and having to go through the same vile process with the little finger of her right hand.

They made her look at them, at her poor, dead fingers, unnaturally side-by-side on a bloodstained white handkerchief in a lacquered box. "A present for Yasov," the man said. Caitlin closed her eyes. The name meant nothing to her. All she knew was the shocking agony of her mutilated hands and the cruel pressure between her legs.

They left her to weep for a few minutes. Caitlin was roused from her world of pain by a cool, tickling sensation between her shoulders. It took her a while to work out what they were doing. They were painting something on her back. Stretched against the pole, she could barely move as a wet brush traced a curved design from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine.

At first, Caitlin feared she was about to be tattooed like the men around the room who occasionally watched her sufferings. Already reeling in shock from the damage to her hands, the thought of having things permanently etched into her skin was doubly sickening. But it couldn't hurt as much as having her fingers chopped off, could it? When she saw the smoldering brazier, the slim blades heating in the coals, and the protective leather gloves being pulled over the torturer's hands, she began to scream. She did not stop.

As they began to slice and burn the dragon’s outline into her soft, pale skin, Caitlin threw back her head and howled. Each time she passed out from pain and shock, they brought her around to experience every moment of the design's brutal creation.

The cameras pointing down from the ceiling bore silent witness to her frenzied shrieking as the blood sizzled and steamed on the glowing scalpels that carved the dragon motif into her flesh. With a satisfied smile, the young Japanese crime prince watching the monitors zoomed in for a better view of the American blonde’s agonized face. If receiving this video, together with the girl's fingers, did not provoke Yasov into retaliating, nothing would. Yasov had to respond; he could not afford to be humiliated by losing a full cargo of refined cocaine and knowing that his special, Yankee girl-toy was being publicly used by his enemies. Nobody cheats the Yakusa, he thought - the Solsnetskaya had to pay dearly for supplying the Japanese market with defective heroin. The Oyabun refused to accept it was a deliberate act of deceit, choosing instead to believe there was nothing more to it than an unfortunate mistake. The old fool was obviously no longer fit to control the clan. When the drugs war started, he would be cast aside. Some day soon, there would be a new Oyabun in charge of the Yakusa…and cheating vermin like Yasov would be wiped off the face of the earth!

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Jun 27 (2 days ago)

I got the amended file ---no problem ---take care of her health and I will take care of her story

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On 6/27/06, philip mackay <philmackay@talk21.com> wrote:

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Dear Rabbit1 one,

Giuseppe turned away to avoid her penetrating gaze. "I have little money, padrona. I send home my pay for the family and I cannot afford the fare."

Rosario frowned then spoke into her radio. "Alfonso? Have the Learjet ready at LaGuardia in one hour for departure to Palermo. No, not for me - it is for young Giuseppe from the stables." She turned to the gaping seventeen year-old. "Here, give me the reins. That was good work last night, by the way. For a young man, you controlled yourself very well. Now get your things and report to Alfonso."

Giuseppe sank to his knees and tried to kiss her hand, overwhelmed by his employer's compassion. "Padrona! Grazie, grazie!"

"Enough of that.  Family is everything and when you work for us, you are part of our Family too.  Next time you have a problem, you tell me - capische?  Now go.  You leave in ten minutes - RUN!"  Yes, she thought, watching the lad dash for the servants' quarters, the Family really IS everything.

Rosario patted her horse and led him to be rubbed down.  Oasis Fire was certainly ready to be entered in the Dubai endurance race but sadly, she would not be riding him.  Nonno Marco would not permit her to risk her neck, as she was the sole heir to the Family's vast financial and criminal network.  "I have lost my only son and I cannot lose my only grandchild too, my sweet Rosario.  It would break my heart and your death would start the greatest gang war for succession the world has ever seen.  It would tear our Family's empire apart."  She knew he was right even though her father's assassination meant her childhood dreams of competitive riding could never now be fulfilled.

Oasis Fire breathed on her neck as they entered the stable courtyard.  "Not this morning, boy.  I have another pony to deal with.  Tomorrow, I promise you, I will tend you personally."  The horse appeared to look reproachfully at his mistress but dutifully entered his stall.  A typical male, she thought with amusement, wanting to be the center of attraction all the time.

The occupant of the adjoining stall blinked in the sudden, harsh daylight then pressed against the concrete wall in terror when she saw who had entered. Rosario took her time, enjoying Maria's evident fear, savoring how humiliated and helpless her new slave must be feeling. The naked girl had been cruelly buckled into a stiff, leather body harness and full-head bridle. Maria's hands and feet were trapped inside hobbled pony boots and gloves that ended with dainty hooves, making her appear like a heavily restrained foal. On Rosario's explicit instructions, the inside of the broad leather strap between Maria's bruised and red-latticed thighs held two thick plugs in place that would be terribly uncomfortable reminders of her gang rape several hours earlier by most of the male staff and guards. How the girl had piteously moaned, cried and finally wailed in misery as the men queued up for their turn with the stuck-up Belgian tart, reducing her from an inexperienced virgin to a well-used whore in a single night.

Rosario had orchestrated the marathon session, choosing which equipment was used to restrain and hurt the girl, and what sexual positions were employed for maximum cruelty and violation. At one point, she had held Maria's head up by her hair while she half-hung in spreader bars over a padded bench, as one man brutally shafted her ass from behind. When Rosario forced her ring-gagged mouth towards Giuseppe's waiting cock, the look of abject misery in Maria's eyes was beyond price. It was hardly surprising that the girl was so frightened by her mere presence in the stall.

Rosario lightly tapped her red crop against the thigh of her jodhpurs.  "Trot over here, little pony, or would you prefer to be whipped again?"  Despite her restrictive fetters, Maria struggled across the straw on her hoofed hands and feet then knelt as near to her mistress as the long chain on her collar would allow.  "Good girl - now that was not so difficult, was it?"  Rosario looked down at the former maid.  Maria's back was still covered in red welts from the previous night's punishments.  Rosario raised the crop and took a pace back.  "Touch the end with your mouth shield."  Maria leaned forward until her collar chain swung clear of the stable floor and tried to press the leather base of the penis gag against the crop's tip.

But she could not get far enough forward.  Rosario moved the crop just out of reach.  "Are you being disobedient?  Do you want to be punished, slut?"  She brought the tip tantalizingly close again but not too close.  "I told you to touch the tip, slut."  With a desperate moan, Maria tried again, pulling on her collar chain so tightly that she was beginning to choke.  Whenever she almost reached the end of the crop, padrona Rosario placed it just out of range.  "Are you deliberately trying to annoy me, pony-slut?"  Maria wailed in desperation and lunged forwards, nearly throttling herself in the process.  She almost managed to touch the crop.

Almost was not good enough.

The crop whistled through the air to make contact with Maria's backside.  "I can see you still have much to learn.  Cesare?"  A white-haired older man immediately answered to the padrona's call.  He scowled down at the quivering "pony".  "I want this creature fucked hard on the hour, every hour.  No opening is to be left unused.  See that she pleases her lovers in every way and punish her severely if she fails.  No lasting injury to her body, mind.  I know how skillful you are with pain, Cesare.  Nonno Marco told me you can make the bravest man crumble without leaving a single mark."  Maria was so frightened at her words that she wet the straw.  "Dirty little pony-slut.  If you do not satisfy Cesare and his men, you will be mated with Oasis Fire.  That should sell well on our websites, I think.  A cute little ponygirl being taken from behind by a fully grown stallion - I wonder how many inches you could take."  Maria shook her bridled head in horrified disbelief.  "You are quite the little star, you know - last night's movie went online a couple of hours ago.  By the time I set off for my morning ride, it had already been downloaded nearly 4,000 times."  She ignored her ex-maid's wails of anguish and left the girl in Cesare's devastatingly capable hands.

As she strode into the lobby, Rosario noticed two things:  the marble flagstone shone immaculately, except for the trail of dirt she was leaving behind her riding boots, and that Charles was standing over his naked slave who was scrubbing the floor with a small brush and a bucket of water.

Master Charles scowled at the line of muddy footprints from the vestibule to where Rosario now stood and jerked hard on his slave's leash.  "Again!"  He brought down the split leather tawse with his other arm to add another stinging red stripe to the others on Alexa's backside.  The cruel strap lashed repeatedly, punctuating his angry words.  "You - will - clean - it - all - again - until - it - is - perfect!"

Rosario remained cool although she was surprised by his fury towards the cowering girl.  And Alexa appeared very distressed as she tried to submit to the excessive punishment.  In fact, the little slave looked confused and frightened, as though she could not understand her master's rage towards her.  Something was badly wrong.  Rosario decided to intervene and gently touched his arm to stay the next blow.  "Charles, dear - this is absolutely priceless."  Her throaty chuckle caught him off guard.  "It is so amusing to see my ward scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees like this!  Do you have any idea how wealthy our little cleaning slut is?"

"No.  Why should I care about that?"  His terse reply was loudly abrupt and echoed around the vaulted ceiling.

Rosario saw that he had not meant to be rude but that he was fighting to control his temper.  It was very out of character.  "Well, let us just say that one of her trust's smaller properties is the hotel complex that contains your Organization's New York Center on the top floors."  She smiled and absently patted Alexa's trembling head, as if she was greeting a dog.  "And to think she is cleaning my hall."  He had lowered the leather strap that obviously terrified Alexa.  Good.  "Could you spare her for the morning?  I promise to look after your little slave."

Charles almost refused but knew he had nearly lost control and was unfairly taking out his feelings of long-suppressed rage on Alexa.  It was not her fault.  He was furious with himself for not executing her a second time.  He had failed in his duty, just as he had failed to save his pregnant wife and the shame and grief followed him like a curse.  Why was the simple fact of owning a personal slave so damned complicated?  "I do not think...oh just TAKE her then!"  He thrust his slave's leash into Rosario's hand, startling both women.  "Look, Rosario, have you seen Gérard anywhere?  I tried to find him earlier and he did not answer his door."

"Ah, well that is my fault. You see, I kept the good doctor tied up most of the night." Rosario returned his puzzled glance with an enigmatic grin. "I can release him if you need him back, Charles."

"No, if Gérard is occupied on your behalf it will simply have to wait.  Just forget it."  With that, he stormed off - not even bothering to warn Alexa to obey Rosario without question.

Slave and Mistress watched him leave.  "Well!  What on earth have you done to make your master so angry with you?"  Tears spilled from the kneeling girl's eyes as she shook her head in confusion.  "Come along, little Alexa.  You are not totally mute – I know you can whisper what you did wrong."

Alexa followed the line of her leash to Rosario's hand but was unable to meet her gaze.  Her master had roughly shaken her awake in the early hours of the morning to drag her downstairs and make her clean the hall floor in Rosario's mansion.  She must have scrubbed it at least five times but he had never been satisfied, repeatedly thrashing her on her buttocks and thighs with the horrid tawse like her mother had done when she wet herself in childhood.  Her master had been furious with her but she had no idea why.  It terrified her to see him so angry and upset.  "N-not know...d-don't know, m-mistress!"  She felt cool fingers tilting her chin upwards.

"Look at me.  Good girl.  Now, you are telling me the truth?"  The tear-streaked, elfin-faced slave peered directly into her eyes and silently nodded without blinking or glancing away.  "Bene.  Well, perhaps he does not know either, little slave.  Men can be very unpredictable and highly emotional for the slightest of reasons."  Rosario's attempt at humor fell flat, the little slave obviously being too timid and upset to smile back.  "Oh, come ON girl.  I am not going to eat you...although the thought is quite tempting!  I want us to be friends."

She stroked the slave's light brown hair and framed her face in her hands, softly murmuring, "You and I are so different and yet we have so much in common."  Pulling her up by the leash, she startled Alexa by kissing her deeply on her mouth.  The effect was gratifying as the little slave staggered then swooned forwards with half-lidded eyes while their tongues danced.  The embrace lasted longer than either expected, leaving statuesque mistress and diminutive slave eying each other speculatively as they re-appraised their relationship.

"Well, then.  Time for my morning swim.  Tell me, little slave, would you like to come?"

The ambiguous question was not lost on Alexa who could still taste Rosario's sweet mouth on her own tingling lips.  Her master's unexplained temper briefly forgotten, she shyly nodded and bobbed a curtsey to the Latin beauty towering above her.

"Good.  Meet me in the smaller pool beneath the conservatory where you ate last night.  I have something to attend to first but it will only take a few minutes."

Alexa watched her leave then picked up the brush and bucket to return them to the cupboard under the staircase.  Then it hit her - she was on her own, unfettered, unrestrained, and free to go where she wished for the first time since Miller had abducted her off the streets of New York.  Master Charles had always kept her chained in public until now.  Her newfound freedom brought her no pleasure, instead she felt oddly lost and unsettled.

Rosario went up the sweeping staircase two steps at a time, peeling off her riding clothes in the long corridor and leaving them where they fell. By the time she reached the doors of her private quarters, she was completely naked. Gérard was exactly where she had left him. It was not surprising since she had chained him to the radiator, cuffing his hands behind his back but leaving his legs free. He glowered over the gag as she knelt down to stroke his calf. "I am so sorry about last night. You see, I was quite tired supervising my new slave's initiation and I simply had to get some rest. Then this morning, you were still asleep on the floor so I left you lying - I hope you are not too disappointed." Rosario slid the handcuff key a little closer to his foot so it was no longer frustratingly out of reach. "At least you did not wet the carpet. Now I simply must dash - you can free yourself I am sure. Oh by the way, Charles was looking for you and he is in one hell of a bad mood about something so best watch your step, okay?" She paused to watch his contortions as he frantically dragged the key with his toes nearer his trapped hands before he had an accident and soaked the floor. With an affectionate wave, she was gone.

Rosario dived into the pool and startled Alexa by swimming under her to surface just in front of her face. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." Alexa felt herself being pulled close for another devastating kiss that left her gasping for air. Rosario guided her across the pool then helped her up on the sandstone edge to sit with her feet dangling in the water. Alexa did not resist when her companion pushed her thighs open and moved her head closer to her nether lips. "Such a pretty little ring." She trembled when Rosario's mouth began to suck the tiny nub of pierced flesh at the top of her inner labia. "Mmm. Very nice. Lean back, little Alexa. I want to put my fingers…yes, good slave." Rosario pressed the ball of her left thumb against Alexa's anus then slid two fingers into her moist, pouting sex. The effect was incredible. When Rosario's tongue began to circle and flick her ringed clit, Alexa gasped and panted in shocked arousal. "Did you think I learned nothing at that godforsaken convent school?" Rosario grinned up at her lover's flushed face and returned to her exquisite task.

*****

"I'm not very happy about this, girl. The area's not completely cleared and the Taliban's gone to ground in these parts." Sergeant Gomez scanned the tumbledown cemetery uneasily and glanced at the stunning passenger next to him in the Hummer. "You sure you know where the grave is?"

Guljana fingered the seashell she had carried all the way from Antigua and forced herself to look at the Marine's rough face. "Yes, sar-jent Gomais, please - it will not take long times."

"Okay then. Stay in clear view and come straight back here. I wanna be on the main road before sunset." He watched the girl slowly walking towards the bullet-shattered headstones. Fuck, she was built! The military jumpsuit fitted her like a glove, the light cotton creasing and writhing as it rode inside her butt crack. Gomez wondered why the Senator had brought this one all the way back from the States - if she was his slave-bitch, he wouldn't let her out of his site. No, he'd have her naked on the end of a chain, working that sweet mouth of hers where it belonged…wrapped around the end of his dick.

There was another woman in the graveyard.  Gomez watched her through the binoculars.  She was just a village peasant, dressed from head to toe in the shabby rags that passed for traditional dress in this devastated corner of hell called Afghanistan.  Satisfied the villager presented no obvious threat to the Senator's slave, Gomez reached for a Marlboro and settled back in the driver's seat of the Hummer to listen to the military radio for any signs of alarm.

It was so difficult to fight back the tears.  Guljana clutched the beautiful seashell and threaded her way past the smashed grave markers towards the final resting place of her mother, Zahida.  She knelt with head bowed low, and remembered their promise to write each other's names in the sand on the shores of America.  Tiny Guljana had no idea what a beach or even a sea would look like then but she had fulfilled her side of the bargain.  If her mother would never know how vast and wide an ocean was, she would bring part of the ocean to her.  Whispering a tiny prayer, Guljana carefully placed the shell on the mound of rock and dust.

"Jana?  It is really you?  JANA?"  She whirled and looked up into the incredulous face of Zia's mother.  "Your clothes - you are wearing the demons' clothes!  We thought you were dead, taken with my daughter by the American demons!"  The older woman gripped her shoulder so tightly it hurt.  "My Zia - she is alive?  TELL ME!"

What could she say?  This woman had been so cruel in the village, denouncing her own mother as a witch and insulting Guljana by calling her the half-breed of a Soviet devil and a filthy whore.  But how could she tell the woman that her daughter was probably dead, cruelly raped and tortured by that horrible guard called Miller?  She couldn't dash her hopes, no matter how unreal they were.  "Zia, she...we were taken to America.  I don't know where she is - we were separated.  I'm so sorry."  The woman sank down beside her in despair.  "Please, my grandfather…my home.  Please, what happened after I was abducted?"

Zia's mother narrowed her eyes, staring at her in a calculating way.  "Your grandfather?  Why, he lives still.  He is very sick but he is still alive.  Your house is destroyed - bombed by the American demons along with half our village."  She looked over her shoulder at the military vehicle at the cemetery gate and slyly whispered, "You wish to see your grandfather?"

"Yes!  Oh please - I'll get the soldier to drive us there!"  She stood up, ready to run to Sergeant Gomez with the amazing news.

"No - no demons!  The shock will kill your grandfather if they come.  It is not far.  I will take you now.  We will be quick."  She began to tug at the sleeve of Guljana's jumpsuit.  "Hurry, before the demon sees us!"

Guljana paused, uncertain what to do.  She had promised her Senate-Master that she would not leave the sergeant's sight but she so dearly wanted to see her grandfather.  It would only be for a few minutes.  She would hurry back to the cemetery and everything would be all right.  "Please, why are you being so kind?  I thought you hated my family."

The old woman paused.  "We rejoiced when the true followers of Islam rid our lands of the Soviet devils but they were nothing compared to these American demons.  Shaitan rules us now and Allah punishes us by hiding His eyes.  True, your mother was a witch and a whore but you are from our village even if you are a half-breed.  It will have to do."  She beckoned urgently.  "Now COME before we are seen!"

*****

"Phew! Sometimes I wonder why we bother with men at all. If they were not needed for having children, I believe we females could do very nicely on our own." Rosario kissed the side of Alexa's head and stroked her ringed breast. She added somberly, "The men I seem to attract have so far proved untrustworthy, selfish, and unreliable...unlike most women." She smiled and lightly tapped the tip of Alexa's nose. "I think we make better relationships too - particularly when you find a lover-girl who knows exactly how to reach a certain spot!" Sitting up on the massive bed, Rosario confronted the little slave who lay outstretched in post-orgasmic abandon. "So, come on…did I do it for you too? Be truthful - I never punish honesty but I despise people that tell me what they think I want to hear."

Alexa reached up and hugged her tightly, whispering in a tiny, breathless voice, "Yes, Mistress, umm, padrona - it was wonderful but sex with my Master is wonderful too."

Instead of being in trouble for her candor, she was rewarded by laughter.  "Good girl - you see?  I am not a monster, am I?"

"No, Mistress.  I mean, not to me…not, umm, now."

Rosario stood and pulled her flushed companion towards the bathroom.  "I can, however, be an absolute BITCH when required.  Come on, I need a shower and so do you, little slave.  I am seeing some important people shortly and I would like you with me.  But first, I want you to scrub my back."

After their shower, Alexa had helped Rosario get ready. She looked magnificent in a silver lamé dress that clung to her figure like a coat of metallic paint. Then Rosario had tenderly brushed her ward's hair until it shone before tying it into two girlish bunches with pink ribbon. She even gave Alexa a light blue Gingham dress, navy knickers, and knee length white socks to wear before taking some restraints from an ornate box on her bedside table. The dress was several sizes too big but with the chrome waist chain cinched and locked tightly above her hips, it did not look too baggy. "I really do not know why I kept my uniform, considering how I hated wearing it so much." Rosario grinned at the sight of Alexa in secure fetters over her old outfit from l'École De La Magdalene. "Maybe if you had been in my dorm, I would not have tried so hard to get expelled!" She paused and lightly brushed her ward's soft cheeks with the slightest hint of rouge. "Much better. You will fit the part perfectly," she added without further explanation.

Alexa looked very sweet and innocent in the schoolgirl's clothing, simple and uncomplicated - unlike everything else in her life. "You are so dangerous." Rosario whispered as she kissed her young lover's forehead. "It would be such an easy thing to fall madly in love with you."

She didn't feel dangerous. If anything, Alexa felt troubled and confused. This powerful, sophisticated woman was treating her with kindness and love. Was she betraying her master by responding? He'd been so hard on her lately but she didn't know why. She felt caught in the center of some conflict she couldn't understand. Could he possibly be jealous of Rosario? Surely, her beloved master knew she was totally his? Oh, everything was so confusing.

Attaching a leash to her collar, Rosario tugged her towards the door. Alexa looked down at the slim cuffs that were locked to the front of her waist chain. With a shudder, she recalled that it was exactly how they'd fettered her in the nightmare. But she was in a palatial mansion, not a harsh prison. She trotted behind the mistress of the house, lifting her feet high enough to keep the ankle chain off the floor as her first master, Stephen, had taught her. Every time she thought of him, her eyes felt moist with sadness at his passing. He'd rescued her, turned her bleak, unhappy life into one filled with wonder, excitement and love. True, a slave's life was also fraught with pain and danger but she'd never felt so alive and fulfilled. "Oh master Stephen," she thought, "I miss you so very much."

Alexa knelt next to the large chair in the reception room adjoining Rosario's office.  She was tethered to the arm by a red, leather leash from her collar.  Alexa looked up in awe at the young woman sitting majestically in the heavy, wooden seat.  Rosario reached down and idly played with her collar, finding the exact place on Alexa's neck that made her shiver as only the left half of her body erupted in Goosebumps.  Rosario leaned over and whispered, "Your master told me about your neck, little slave.  Now, listen closely - do not utter a sound during this meeting.  Stay very still and carefully observe our visitors.  I will ask for your thoughts after they have gone."

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door then Alfonso entered.  "Padrona Rosario...schiava Alexa."  His greeting to both women was not lost on Rosario who tugged on the leash, prompting her ward to lower her eyes respectfully.

"Is Maria learning to please under Cesare's supervision?"  Rosario crossed her long legs, revealing a glimpse of sheer silken thigh through the slit dress.

"Si, padrona."  He shrugged.  "She cries much.  She is very sore."  He tilted his head at Alexa.  "Maria has much to learn from this one, I think."

Rosario threw back her head and laughed.  "Not only are you a superb knifeman but you are also an excellent judge of character!  Send in our guests - I think their hour-long wait has been sufficiently instructive."

When Alfonso returned, he was accompanied by two grim-faced men.  One wore a somber dark grey suit and the other a uniform with medals and gold braid.  Both looked at the figure kneeling at the side of Rosario's chair in astonishment.  "Ah, mayor _______, such a pleasure to see you again.  Tell me, how is our fair city today?  Is your 'zero tolerance' policy working well?  My people tell me it is business as usual for us but very inconvenient for our competitors!"

The older man frowned.  "I really must protest about the delay before seeing us, Rosario, we're going be very late for our press conference!  Your grandfather would have never made me wait like..."

She cut him dead with a dismissive wave of her hand.  "You are only mayor with our Family's blessing.  Do not forget your place and in future, you will call me Padrona.  Do you understand me?"

The color in the man's face had drained away.  He thought better of replying and went silent, looking fearfully in her direction.

"Bene.  Nonno Marco told me you were not a stupid man.  We do not keep fools on our payroll.  We 'retire' them - remember this."  Rosario examined the man in uniform who stood there in amazement with his mouth slightly open.  "And this must be our new Chief of Police?  How nice of you both to come and thank the Forte Foundation.  I am sure its donation to the Police Widows and Orphans Benevolent Fund will be useful."

The uniformed man continued to stare at Alexa, eyes popping at her collar and restraints in total conflict with her schoolgirl innocence.  "What in the Lord's name is going on here?"  The Chief of Police pointed an accusing finger at the kneeling slave.  "This...this is OBSCENE!"

The mayor muttered urgently at his morally outraged companion.  "Shut up.  Shut the fuck UP, for both our sakes!"

Rosario stroked Alexa's hair. "A pretty little creature, isn't she? At least she has reached the age of consent, unlike the young girl who sucked you off in the back of your church hall after choir practice last month. You do know she tried to kill herself afterwards? I am sure my good friend, the editor of the New York Times, would dearly love to receive a copy of the recording we took." She casually kicked a video cassette across the polished oak floor from beneath her chair to the stammering man's feet. "So you can lose the pious, holier-than-though bullshit with me - unless you want the world to watch you stuffing your pathetic little cock into that pre-teen's mouth and coming all over her lovely young face."

The mayor sighed. Ignoring his new Chief of Police who was stammering in shock, he tried to salvage the meeting with the future head of the Di ________ Family. "Rosar...Padrona - exactly what is the Forte Foundation? A million dollars is a very generous donation!"

Rosario turned and smiled down at a startled Alexa who stared back up in confusion. "The Forte Foundation? You are looking at her, mister mayor."

Forte…FORTE? Alexa gasped as she recognized Uncle Armando's surname. He had been so kind when she was set loose on the streets of New York. In return, Miller had tortured and killed him. She would have covered her face and wept but the waist chain stopped her from lifting up her cuffed hands. Alexa felt her head being gently patted – Rosario had noticed her distress.

"The girl?  But she's in chains!"  The mayor swallowed, thinking hard.  "Who is she?  Is she your captive?  Why is she kneeling like...like that?"

"Oh, calm down.  You do not need to know her name.  She belongs to a guest of mine and I am her trustee.  This is all you need to know.  Anyway, I thought you came here to express your appreciation.  Well, gentlemen?"

Alexa gaped in stunned amazement as the Mayor and Police Chief of New York crouched down in turn to shake her cuffed hand and offer their thanks.

"Now leave us.  You two have a photo call to attend.  Remember to promote 'zero tolerance for organized crime', gentlemen."  Watching them go, Rosario smiled down at her companion.  "I think that went very well, don't you?"

Before she could think of a reply, Alexa's tummy rumbled so loudly that she forgot her tears for poor Uncle Armando and blushed with embarrassment.

"When did you last eat, Alexa?" Rosario chuckled while she untied the leash from her chair's arm.

"Umm, l-last night, mistr...padrona - the s-soup…Lucia's s-soup!" Grief threatened to overwhelm her again.

"Goodness me! Well, you are going to the kitchens immediately. I shall feed you myself...so long as you promise not to bite!"

*****

"You bloody FOOL - do you want to get us killed? She can easily do that, you know." The mayor sighed and looked in disgust at his companion in the mayoral limousine. "I am not joking - Rosario is deadly, just like her grandfather but worse. She is smarter than Don Marco too. Jesus save us - a woman with beauty, brains, wealth, power...and a ruthless, killer instinct." The police chief stared at him, still dumbstruck after his pedophilic tastes were exposed. "She executed her own fiancé, you know. He was two-timing her for a classy attorney and Rosario found out. I heard that it was the only time anyone has seen her cry - after she blew his brains out. The lawyer disappeared - some people think she ran for her life but I reckon she ended up as pig feed at that ranch upstate they use for the runaway hookers and anyone else that's foolish enough to cross the Family." The mayor waited for a response but got none. "Damn it man, are you listening to me? I am trying to keep you alive, for Christ's sake!"

"That girl, the one in chains - I've seen her face before." The chief of the NYPD had finally found his voice.

"What in hell are you talking about, you stupid idiot?"

"The girl in chains. The one dressed like a schoolgirl, kneeling by that witch's chair. I am sure her mug shot was going around the precincts recently. I'm sure she was a missing federal witness for something big."

The mayor snorted in contempt. Why on earth had he appointed this fool for a police chief? "Look, if you don't want to end up as a smoked ham in a delicatessen in Little Italy, you'd better forget all about that girl NOW!"

*****

She could not take much more of this. Caitlin bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming in pain when she relieved herself. She would not give the bastards the pleasure of hearing her cry out. It was her only resistance, all she had left.

After the piercings came the rapes. The men used her for sex whenever they wished. Sometimes a lone guard would enter her cell, either to force her bruised thighs open or pin her face down on the thin mattress and bugger her mercilessly. She had tried pleading, begging them to stop or at least use protection. In desperation, she had mentioned the risks of pregnancy or HIV but it was useless.

One of her abusers, the thin-faced man who had forced rings through her sensitive flesh, laughed and whispered in her ear as he came inside her ravaged cunt. "Hah! You not get bay-bee - Russkies fix for us." He sat up and savagely poked the scars on either side of her abdomen where she had been injected into her ovaries. "No bay-bee you! No get AIDS you - we get fix you good fuck anytime!" He was jabbing her left arm where she had been painfully injected several times since her arrival in the cell. What did he mean - they actually had an inoculation against HIV? But that was impossible...wasn't it?

The metal door swung open to reveal the cruelly grinning face of the guard who had held her while she was pierced.  He was also naked and fingering his huge erection in readiness for her violation.  Caitlin's mouth went dry at the sheer size of the huge man's distended penis.  It was too big - she would be injured internally!  She screamed and fought but with her wrists cuffed behind her back and their overwhelming strength they handled her with ease.  The larger man lay on his back while his colleague made her sit down with her anus impaled on the giant's hard erection.  The huge man crushed her breasts in his large hands and arched her backwards, ignoring her agonized screams.

The man she thought of as her torturer entered her from the front, wedging her between their bodies as they raped her cunt and ass together.  "You learn suck good too."  Caitlin's head was twisted sideways.  A third man was holding the bulbous tip of his penis against her tightly clamped lips.  It was the young oriental killer from the Russian ship!  "You suck boss good now or I get needles teach you obey.  Dorei, wakarimasu-ka?"

She understood.

When they finished satisfying themselves, the younger man murmured something to the others who bowed to him without a word.  Caitlin shuddered as he smiled down at her before leaving the cell.

She was given no time to recover.  The chain from her collar hauled her up so she had to stand on tiptoe or choke.  The hose and brushes were employed with more roughness than usual.  Caitlin coughed and retched when the pipe that had just been up her ass was forced between her teeth to flush the semen from her mouth.  The collar and fetters were removed and she crouched on the cell floor wishing she were dead.  Her body and tangled hair were roughly dried with cloths then she was half-dragged, half-carried face down along the corridor up several flights of stairs.

The room they took her to was ornate and sumptuously decorated.  Semi-naked oriental men, their bodies covered with tattoos, lounged on cushions.  They were being served drinks and food by young girls dressed in athletics shorts and blouses.  None gave Caitlin more than a glance before returning their attention to the games of dice they were playing on low tables.  In the center of the room stood a large, rough wooden post as broad as a telegraph pole.  They forced her closer.  "Please, no!  Please don't hurt me anymore!  PLEASE, STOP!"  Caitlin's pleas had absolutely no effect as the men dragged her closer to the pole.  It had waiting metal cuffs on chains lying at the base, and similar restraints dangling from the top, attached to a winch.  Midway up the pole a thin, metal bracket stuck out.  She knew she would be cruelly stretched while its narrow ridge dug into her already aching private parts.  "No!  Oh God, NOOO!"

Their superior strength and her weakened state made it an easy task to fix her wrists and ankles in the metal cuffs.  Caitlin whimpered as the winch at the top of the pole began to lift her arms above her head, making her belly press up against the end of the bracket.

Caitlin screamed in fear as the winch clicked again.  Notch by notch, she was lifted clear of the floor.  The end of the bracket rubbed lower until it teased the front of her waiting cunt.  Fighting was useless; in fact, the bastards seemed to enjoy her helpless struggles while she dangled over the pointed ridge aimed up into her abused cleft.  When they lowered her until the ridge finally made contact with her clitoris, she moaned in discomfort.  Her sore breasts rubbed against the rough pole, making her writhe in agony while the fetters around her ankles were stretched down.  Caitlin could only pull herself up a tiny amount to relieve the dreadful pressure on her clit but every time she settled back down again, the pain seemed worse.

"What are you going to do?  Please let me down.  It hurts...OH MY GOD!"  The torturer came over holding what looked like a pair of shears.  The razor-sharp blades were stained dark red.  He reached up towards her left hand.  "No, oh please, PLEASE D-DON'T!"  Caitlin wailed when she realized what he was about to do.  The edges began to bite on the base of her little finger.  This wasn't happening.  Surely, he was just trying to frighten her?  They must know she was trained as a classical pianist.  He really couldn't be about to...

"AAAIIIEEE!"

She would never forget the sickening noise of the blades crunching through flesh and bone, the pain like fire in her mutilated hand, the slickness of her blood running down her arm, the stench of the poker cauterizing the wound...and having to go through the same vile process with the little finger of her right hand.

They made her look at them, at her poor, dead fingers, unnaturally side-by-side on a bloodstained white handkerchief in a lacquered box.  "A present for Yasov," the man said.  Caitlin closed her eyes.  The name meant nothing to her.  All she knew was the shocking agony of her mutilated hands and the cruel pressure between her legs.

They left her to weep for a few minutes.  Caitlin was roused from her world of pain by a cool, tickling sensation between her shoulders.  It took her a while to work out what they were doing.  They were painting something on her back.  Stretched against the pole, she could barely move as a wet brush traced a curved design from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine.

At first, Caitlin feared she was about to be tattooed like the men around the room who occasionally watched her sufferings.  Already reeling in shock from the damage to her hands, the thought of having things permanently etched into her skin was doubly sickening.  But it couldn't hurt as much as having her fingers chopped off, could it?  When she saw the smoldering brazier, the slim blades heating in the coals, and the protective leather gloves being pulled over the torturer's hands, she began to scream.  She did not stop.

As they began to slice and burn the dragon's outline into her soft, pale skin, Caitlin threw back her head and howled. Each time she passed out from pain and shock, they brought her around to experience every moment of the design's brutal creation.

The cameras pointing down from the ceiling bore silent witness to her frenzied shrieking as the blood sizzled and steamed on the glowing scalpels that carved the dragon motif into her flesh. With a satisfied smile, the young Japanese crime prince watching the monitors zoomed in for a better view of the American blonde's agonized face. If receiving this video, together with the girl's fingers, did not provoke Yasov into retaliating, nothing would. Yasov had to respond; he could not afford to be humiliated by losing a full cargo of refined cocaine and knowing that his special, Yankee girl-toy was being publicly used by his enemies. Nobody cheats the Yakusa, he thought - the Solsnetskaya had to pay dearly for supplying the Japanese market with defective heroin. The Oyabun refused to accept it was a deliberate act of deceit, choosing instead to believe there was nothing more to it than an unfortunate mistake. The old fool was obviously no longer fit to control the clan. When the drugs war started, he would be cast aside. Some day soon, there would be a new Oyabun in charge of the Yakusa…and cheating vermin like Yasov would be wiped off the face of the earth!

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 12

By slave ruthie

"Bianca, remember how I used to sneak in here when I was small and you would give me treats?"

Bianca put down the dishcloth and frowned. "Si, Rosa but you sat at the table and fed yourself - not like this THING in chains." She pointed an accusing finger in Alexa's direction but averted her eyes from the kneeling girl who blanched and stopped chewing.

"Alexa is not a 'thing'. She is my friend and she is our guest here, Bianca." Rosario kept her voice low, aware that everyone in the kitchen had stopped to listen. "If anyone else insulted my ward like that, they would suffer badly for it. Have a care, old woman."

Bianca stood tall, despite her crippling arthritis, and defiantly folded her arms. "'Old woman', is it? Many times have I put you across my knee and taught you manners when no one else dared and now you threaten me? You call this 'schiava' your friend but she has no free choice. You keep her like a toy. She is no guest either with her arms and legs all locked up - she is a prisoner." There was a gasp from one of the younger kitchen staff.

The old woman made a curious warding gesture with her gnarled left hand. "Jettatura," she muttered, and then raised her voice so all could hear. "Do not look at the schiava's face - she has the Mal d'Occhio."

A chef crossed himself and backed away from the table where Rosario sat with a laden spoon ready to feed the little slave at her feet. "No, Bianca, this girl does NOT have the Evil Eye. She protected Uncle Armando who took her in and..."

"And died. Oh, I do not blame the poor creature. She cannot help that she carries a curse." Bianca pointed her finger again but this time it was directly at Rosario. "You will bitterly regret the day you heard of this Strega - mark my words."

"Superstitious nonsense and you know it!" Rosario stood and glared at Bianca. Just because she was her nonno's half-cousin, it did not give her the right to accuse Alexa of being a witch.

"So I'm being foolish, eh? Just like when I begged your papa not to go to the Superbowl the day his limo went under that truck and he laughed at my superstition." Bianca put her hands on her hips and glared right back.

The argument became more heated as both women squared up to each other, gesticulating and shouting in a mixture of English and Sicilian. It was too much for Alexa. Shunned and ignored by Rosario's staff, forgotten by the padrona and the old woman, the little slave shuffled quietly away in her fetters to hide and weep.

She got as far as the passageway before bumping headlong into Alfonso. "Do not worry, schiava bene - Bianca, she come around. All the time they fight. She love the padrona like a daughter and want only to protect her. I speak Bianca for you." He let go of her hair and stroked her wet cheek. "I salute you." Alexa looked up into his kindly, smiling eyes. "One so small taking out so large a man like Miller!" Alfonso patted her head in an affectionate, almost fatherly way. "All of us after him. The Agency, the Bureau, il Familia, the Triad, your Organizatione - everyone! It was a matter of honor who will take him down before the rest...and you get him first! Such brava from an untrained schiava assassin!"

Alexa didn't know what to say or how to respond. She hadn't gone after Miller and certainly hadn't set out to kill him - he had abducted and tortured HER. When she jumped off the tower to escape the cruelty, she hoped to drag him down with her to put an end his sadistic murder spree. It was a desperate, suicidal act - not bravery.

"Maybe la Padrona allows me to teach you use a knife - you like that, schiava bene?" Before she could reply, he reached down at gently poked her in her back between her lower ribs. "See, here is a good place. Stab the kidney and pain will make her...ahh, him to drop like a stone. Death too quick to fight back or cry out loud, capische? I will ask if she permits. Now, lift up your chin. Bene." He looped a plastic tag under her collar then pulled it tight through a small object. "Do not worry - is only a tracker so we not lose you in this big house. Your man, Guy, he think it a good idea too. Now, you explore but not to go outside for it is cold and your dress is too thin." Alfonso grinned and swatted her rump, propelling her down the corridor before closing the kitchen door so she could no longer hear the argument raging between Rosario and the old woman.

Rosario's home was truly vast. She wandered through room after ornate room, marveling at the beautiful art and objects around the walls. One particular painting caught her eye. A vast swirl of vibrant color almost leapt out of the canvas. She instantly recognized the picture and its artist - the initials in the bottom right corner confirmed it. It had been propped against the wall in Gina's tiny apartment! What was it doing here? Alexa stood, lost in thoughts of all the people she had met since arriving in the United States. Gina had shown her so much kindness and compassion, only to be enslaved by Master Leroy. They were briefly re-united in New York but neither could communicate as they had been fettered and gagged in a holding pen. They had stretched as far as their collar chains allowed to touch each other's cuffed feet. That was the last time they had met.

She caught sight of her reflection in a large, gilt-edged mirror across the room. Alexa felt utterly out of place amidst the sumptuous furnishings, standing in her fetters over a hand-me-down oversized school uniform. Why had her master been so angry? She wanted nothing more right then than to kneel next to him and to feel his reassuring fingers under the back of her collar. Perhaps whatever had annoyed her master had passed but she didn't dare go to find him. No, he would summon her when he chose and there was nothing she could do about it.

At the far corner of the room, she noticed a curtain partly concealing a stone archway. Alexa moved to see through the entrance to the passage beyond. It revealed a small chapel, which was occupied by an old man kneeling before a statue of a woman. The life sized carving was made of dark, cracked wood. Ancient and serene, her features marred by extreme age, the Madonna had upraised arms and stood before a crown of stars painted on the wall behind her head. Alexa reflexively crossed herself and curtseyed as her grandmother had taught her before her childhood had descended into an abusive nightmare. As she raised her eyes, she realized the old man was watching her.

“You know Our Lady?" He smiled and beckoned her closer. "Come, join me." Alexa knelt uncertainly by the man. "You do not know me, do you? Ah but I know you, schiava Alexa." He stared up at the statue. "Asherat, she was called long before the Magdalene ever set foot in Marseilles. She was Our Lady Of The Sea and God's consort until the Holy Church took her as its own. She is beautiful and she is terrible. I fear her judgment." The old man shrugged and looked at Alexa with sadness in his eyes. "I have done so many...questionable things in my long life. And now I have so little time left to make amends. You are part of my atonement - Armando, he asked it in my cousin Lucia's name and she...” He turned back to look at the statue. "...She would not forgive if I broke my word." Then he surprised Alexa by taking her head in his hands and gently kissing her brow.

*****

Master Charles looked across at Gérard but the doctor studiously avoided his gaze. The young man appeared to be embarrassed by something. "Do you believe that girl, Maria, will last very long? Rosario does appear to be very hard on her toys." No response. "Are you listening, Gérard? You appear to be distracted this morning."

"Pardon?" The younger man looked blankly at him.

"It does not matter. Just forget it." Master Charles sighed, picked up his papers and tried to concentrate on the report for the umpteenth time. It was no use. The summary on the transformation of the Organization's UK facilities from undisciplined chaos to efficiency should have satisfied him as the new Head of Security, his old friend Lady Sarah M_________, had implemented all his recommendations. And it had been through her inspired nomination of Mullah Al-O___ as a new master that the oil pipeline being built across Afghanistan was now free from tribal attacks. So why was he disinterested?

Alexa came from London - that was why. Through his failure to kill her, he might have placed the Organization in danger. How could he be so foolish by letting his feelings for the girl get in the way of his duties? Was it really love? No, it was infatuation, that was all, and it would surely pass.

*****

The torment of having her perineum crushed between penetrating fingers made her cry out at the wrong moment. Maria felt the man's semen trickle from her nose. She coughed and sneezed in fearful misery, knowing that her failure to swallow all her abuser's cum would mean the horrible needles would be re-inserted inside her aching private parts to cause incredible pain.

"Why you useless, fucking slut! You STILL haven't learned to suck cock properly, have you?" The man in front had seized her hair, twisting her head painfully upwards. ".Just look at the state of my slacks, you dirty bitch." He poked a finger into her eye, making her shriek in desperate agony. "Why I've got a good mind to..."

"No." The cold voice of the man behind her paused the assault on her streaming eye. "You heard the Padrona. No damage to her property unless she says so. Leave us." Maria sobbed with relief - she did not want to be blinded! But the respite was short-lived. She heard the sound of a zip then a discarded condom wrapper joined the other fifteen on the stable floor below her face. There was a strange whooshing noise like a foam aerosol accompanied by a pungent, medical smell, similar to the ointment she used when her ankle had been sprained playing school volleyball. The man behind moved closer, taking hold of her ponytail and yanking her head as far back as it would go. When he began to penetrate her backside again, she cried out. She hated anal rape most of all - it was dirty, humiliating, and extremely painful.

This time it was much, much worse. A burning sensation seared inside her sensitive backside. Maria started shrieking and did not stop. "Not as pretty or as tight as a young boy," the man sneered with disgust. "But you will have to do. Start squeezing properly, whore-bitch, or I will make you REALLY suffer."

*****

"Goodness me! You two look like someone has died." Rosario threw herself down into an armchair and kicked off her shoes.

Master Charles looked past her to the door. "Have you finished with my slave? Where is Alexa?"

Rosario waved an indifferent hand. "Oh, she will be somewhere in the house."

"You don't know? Surely she is not unattended?" He looked furiously at Rosario, angered further by her amused expression.

"What is the problem? I am sure my ward is perfectly safe in my own home. You are ever so touchy about Alexa. She is hardly going to hurt herself or anyone else, for that matter."

But master Charles was not satisfied. He stood up and frowned. "I need to find her. Tell me Alexa is at least fettered. She is not allowed to be unrestrained."

"Charles, dear - calm yourself down. I will ask Alfonso to fetch her." Rosario pressed a button on the table by her chair. "And yes, she is in chains, although why you insisted on that excessive condition before bringing my ward here puzzles me, Charles. Why must she be restrained like a criminal?"

"It is because she..." Master Charles stopped himself from blurting out how dangerous little Alexa might be. He would have to tell them everything and that would be a huge mistake.

"It is a condition imposed by the Executive Council after Miller's death." Gérard interceded, glancing across in his friend's direction. "According to the Organization's rules, a slave who is involved in any way with the death or injury of a master or guard must be killed. It is only because of our president's intervention that Alexa's execution was suspended for a year, to be rescinded for good behavior but on condition she is fettered in public at all times."

"Well, that is a stupid rule which takes no account of circumstances. Thank goodness your president is such a sensible man."

Both men looked at each other. Master Charles faintly shook his head. Now was not the time to explain that the Organization's titular head was actually a female African-American slave.

Alfonso appeared and nodded towards Rosario. "Si, padrona?"

"Our guest would like his little slave back, Alfonso. Do you know where Alexa is?''

The servant whispered into a radio, paused then smiled. "Schiava bene, she is in the chapel with your grandfather, padrona."

The news was too much for master Charles, suddenly fearing the very worst, unthinkable incident could have already occurred - his slave going berserk and killing the head of the Family! "Where is this chapel? We have to get there FAST before she..."

Even Gérard looked puzzled. "Before she what, Charles? What is wrong with Alexa?" But his colleague was already racing out of the door behind Alfonso who had his stiletto knife at the ready to protect Don Marco from an unknown threat.

*****

"Please let me go! Please!" Guljana begged her unseen captors as she knelt, blindfolded and bound on the dirt floor."

"She speaks our language well for an infidel bitch." The mocking sound of a man standing over sneered in derision. "It is so disgusting that the American devils let their women dress like men and leave their heads uncovered in public. Have they truly no idea how uncivilized and insulting to Allah they are? The idea of a female soldier is so vile, so obscene."

A horrifyingly familiar voice responded just in front of her face. "Ahh but she is no American and no soldier either, are you, my dear?" The dirty blindfold was unwound. Piercingly cruel eyes stared out from a dreadfully burned and scarred face. The horribly disfigured features did not prevent Guljana from recognizing the man. It was the Talib warlord who had snatched her when she came to beg for medicine for her ailing grandfather. It was Sharazai!

"Hello, Guljana. Welcome back."

*****

When they reached the chapel, Alexa was helping Don Marco stand after kneeling too long. He leaned heavily against the girl's shoulder and looked expectantly at the perspiring Alfonso and Master Charles. "Well? What is so important that you have to disturb our prayers? Alfonso, put the knife away - you might hurt someone."

Guy arrived, silenced gun at the ready, having been alerted by the doctor. Don Marco kept his hand on the girl's shoulder. "What is going on? What has happened? My granddaughter - she is unharmed? TELL ME!" At that moment, Rosario joined them, accompanied by Gérard. "You are safe - thank goodness. But why all this trouble? Charles?"

"Ah, it is all a misunderstanding, Don Marco." Master Charles clipped a leash onto Alexa's collar and gently scratched behind her ear. "I was concerned that my slave would panic when left unsupervised. I can see that my fears were unfounded. Please accept my apology for causing alarm." As explanations went, this one was pretty lame and he knew it was unconvincing.

"Yes, well. No harm done." The aged Don turned to his granddaughter. "All this excitement has given me an appetite, Rosario. Is there a chance you could make an extra space at the lunch table for an old man?"

Rosario immediately came forward to take his arm. "Nonno, you know better than to ask - there is always room for you here."

Master Charles looked down and smiled. "Alexa, what on earth are you wearing?"

"Ah, that was my idea." Rosario called back as she left the chapel with her grandfather. "I will explain over lunch."

Lunch was a relaxed affair of various Italian breads, meats, cheeses and a light, fruity Sicilian wine. Alexa found herself kneeling between two powerful men. On her right sat Don Marco, chatting to her master over her head. It was at times like this that Alexa realized how much her life had changed from vaguely remembered infancy with her kindly grandmother until her death. Then the horrors of her childhood had begun - the neglect, the cruelty, the physical and sexual abuse. Her time in care had been so lonely - nobody wanted to foster her. Aunt Faye had taken her in when she returned from Australia but there was hardly any room in her tiny apartment for Alexa's cousins, let alone an orphan. So she had found a job with lodgings but the hours were long, the pay low, and her boss had turned out to be a bullying tyrant.

Since her abduction and collaring by Master Stephen, an unloved and unwanted girl had become a personal slave to not just one but two great men! There had been hardships, she had suffered pain and injury in slavery but it was all worthwhile as she had finally found love.

Alexa looked down at the feet on either side. Her master's hand reached down and opened to reveal a tiny piece of meat. She carefully picked it up with her teeth, kissing his palm with her parted lips but leaving no trace of saliva on his skin. A scratch behind her left ear rewarded her diligence before his fingers hooked under her collar.

"You people look after your women most strangely, Charles. I had thought to see only harsh discipline, never affection." Don Marco looked down between their dining chairs and grinned. "I would never try that with one of our own women - unless you did not mind losing your fingers!"

The laughter around the table made Alexa smile. She liked Rosario's grandfather.

"Your little slave here is more than just Rosario's ward, you know. Armando did not only leave everything belonging to him and Lucia to her. He declared Alexa to be like a daughter to him and that makes her almost my niece."

Rosario's distinctive laugh broke the silence caused by Don Marco's announcement. "But that would mean Alexa is my aunt? Oh, nonno! This is absolutely priceless!” Alexa felt she could never look her in the face again, not after they had both...

Thankfully, the conversation above her head turned to other matters. Rosario recounted her meeting with the mayor and his new police chief, explaining how Alexa's presence and schoolgirl appearance had been an excellent weapon that brought the new city official firmly under the Family's control.

"I saw the press conference on the news channel." Don Marco raised his glass to his granddaughter, pride evident in his face. "They were given a hard time over the killings."

"Has there been another one, nonno?"

The old man nodded. "In Brooklyn - same M.O. as the others."

A chill crept through Master Charles. "I have not heard about this. Is there a serial killer on the loose?"

"It certainly looks that way but the victims are no great loss. When the first bodies showed up, I told City Hall to give me the victims' backgrounds." Don Marco shrugged. "Low-lives - child molesters, convicted rapists...scum of the earth."

"A vendetta? Or a vigilante?"

"A woman."

Alexa felt her master's hand tighten on her collar. He spoke calmly but she knew Don Marco's words had upset him in some way. "Do you have more details? Perhaps we can help - Gérard, we could offer profiling assistance?"

Don Marco held up his glass for Alfonso to pour more wine. "The police think she lures them by pretending to be a victim. Various weapons and other items, like handcuffs and duct tape bearing the victims' fingerprints have been found at the crime scenes." He paused to sip the excellent vintage. "Always it is the same. They are literally torn apart, limb from limb. The heads are discarded but their genitals are forced down their throats. And the hearts - they are always missing."

Master Charles felt sick but not with revulsion. "How many? When did it start?"

"At least forty in the past year."

Gérard noticed the expression on his friend's ashen face. "Pardon, Don Marco - you said a woman did this. How do the police know it was one person?'

"Ah, dottore. There was DNA from wound sites - saliva, and hair fibers. It was definitely female but the samples, they are strange."

"In what way?"

"Too many chromosomes - I do not understand these things but the lab says the attacker is abnormal."

"What kind of woman..."

Don Marco put down his glass, reached for his walking stick and patted Alexa on the head as he stood. "Indeed. Now excuse me for I must go to a Family baptism - it seems my blessing is almost as important as the priest's."

Master Charles sighed. He had brought Alexa over from London nearly a year ago. But there simply could not be a connection between his slave and these murders in New York – she was never free, never unfettered. Even if Alexa was a defective Roslyn girl, she always had a cast-iron alibi. It did not make any sense!

His slave looked up and smiled uncertainly. “Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes, Alexa. I’ll ask Guy to fix up a cage so you can have an afternoon nap.”

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 13

By slave ruthie

"Please, not again. Please, I can't take it any more." Maria knew her whimpering would make no difference to her abusers. They were not interested in her opinion. She was only a plaything to them - nothing more, nothing less. What mattered were the Padrona's instructions and for the past 24 hours, the men had taken turns to forcibly rape her 'on the hour, every hour'. Maria had been fucked so many times in her pussy, backside and mouth that she no longer needed to be heavily restrained. The mere sight of a cattle prod, acupuncture needle, or other torture instrument was enough to ensure she splayed her legs, spread her own buttocks or opened any of her lips for penetration on demand.

She ached all over. She was exhausted and had no tears left to shed. Maria kept her eyes lowered. The highly polished riding boots in front of her face meant the rapes would start all over again. She crouched on hands and knees in the straw and waited to be abused.

The tip of a red leather riding crop came into view. "You look awful, slut. Have you learned your lesson? If you have, you may kiss the tip." This time, Rosario did not draw back the end out of reach. She allowed the trembling, naked girl to touch her lips to her favorite riding crop without having to strain forward on her leash chain. "Good little slave. You see?" Rosario spoke gently while the filthy creature encrusted with dried semen wept with relief at her feet. "Now that is so much better, isn't it? You could have avoided all this unpleasantness if you hadn't disobeyed me yesterday." Her words brought further sobs from the girl for she had not been allowed to touch the crop and knew that the Padrona would have her punished on a whim even if she was obedient at all times. "Stop sniveling, girl. Crawl across the courtyard to the main house and report to Alfonso. I want you thoroughly cleaned up, fed and rested for later." Rosario unlocked the leash chain from the back of Maria's collar. "Do not even think of running away. The guards are bored and would enjoy tracking you down before you could reach the perimeter wall. I gave them orders to slowly torture you to death if they caught you trying to escape." Rosario held open the stable door. "And if you disobey me again, I will have your little brother gelded and sold to some very unpleasant African business associates of mine. I am sure they would love to play with a pretty, castrated white boy...for as long as he lasted, of course."

Maria wept in despair as she crawled across the hard cobbles. Cold rain began to hit her back before she reached the laundry entrance. She did not look up when Alfonso locked a chain to her collar, gently stroked her head, and then pulled her towards the Security control suite.

*****

They had repeatedly scanned the package for any suspicious metallic objects but found no wires, switches or timers - only two ornate hinges and a clasp. The sniffer dogs discovered none of the telltale traces of explosives or incendiary compounds. Academician Georgiev took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and peered again at the x-rays. "So...it is simply a wooden box, probably inlaid with some kind of precious gems." He frowned in confusion at the images. "These two objects together inside the padding- they have joints...like animal bones. No, not animal - human." He squinted up at his visitor. "They are fingers, major. A child's or a woman's, perhaps. They are wrapped in a finely woven fabric, like gauze. This note on top the objects has markings in oriental text. Chinese? Japanese? I cannot tell."

Yasov smiled and touched his shoulder. "Never mind, my old friend. I will have it translated." The ex-KGB major took two small glasses from his pocket then produced a bottle of a viscous, clear liquid. "Just like old times, eh? Remember how we solved that serial killer case? You gave me a forensic profile that helped me find him just before he gutted another little girl. Nobody believed me that it was such a high-ranking Communist Party Official until you identified that the fibers under one of the victim's fingernails." He poured the vodka then raised his glass at his aged colleague. "To the past, then...before Glasnost and Perestroika ruined everything.” The glasses came to rest on the laboratory bench as both men brooded about the passing of the good times. "Well, my friend, let us take a look inside this mysterious box to see what I have been sent."

*****

Her pussy and bottom were so sore inside and she felt dirty and soiled. Before she was allowed to wash, Maria had to endure an intimate, embarrassing examination by the Swiss doctor. He had made her bend over while he explored her private parts. Surprisingly, he had been gentle and used a cool, soothing gel to lubricate his surgical gloves. Satisfied that she had suffered no internal injuries, Doctor Gérard had told the watching Rosario that her new slave should not have anal sex for a few days but could still be safely trained with butt plugs as long as they were slim. "And I am prescribing a broad-spectrum antibiotic for your slave," he commented. "We find that many newly broken girls are prone to cystitis and other complications due to their suddenly heightened level of sexual activity." The humiliation of being medically examined in front of the Padrona had been profound - was she never to have any privacy?

Maria nearly fell asleep in the shower. The warm water was so soothing after her cruel treatment for the past 24 hours that she slumped down against the cubicle wall and let Alexa wash her body. Master Charles' slave crouched down beside her and massaged shampoo into her hair. Maria realized she no longer felt contempt for the girl. After all, Alexa was only doing what was necessary to survive her own captivity and sexual abuse. But it did not explain the adoring looks she gave to her master when they were together. Had Alexa become so conditioned to slavery that she no longer saw herself as a free individual? The thought of becoming like that repelled yet strangely attracted Maria. Would she run as eagerly to the Padrona as Alexa did to her master? No, she would rather die!

While Alexa dried her hair, she was allowed to eat some watery soup. Then she was led to a windowless cell and chained with her arms above her head to lie on a thin, plastic-covered mattress. Finally, she was permitted to sleep.

*****

"Are you going to tell me what is wrong with little Alexa?"

It was Master Charles' turn to feel uncomfortable. "I think she is still very traumatized after New York. I think it might have been a mistake to bring her here."

Gérard smiled. "And I think you underestimate her, Charles. She has more inner strength than many men I know. I am, however, more worried about you. Do you never allow yourself to relax?"

"Gérard, I do not need this psychoanalysis. Perhaps you should look at your relationship with our hostess before offering any advice to others."

The awkward silence between them was finally broken when Alexa was brought back by Guy. Master Charles thanked him but did not even look down at his personal slave. "How is Maria, little one?"

Alexa relaxed at the gentle tone of his voice. "She will be okay, master," she whispered. "She is very sore and frightened but she is not hurt...just, umm, in shock, master."

It pained him to hear Alexa's faint, hoarse whisper but at least she was finally communicating. "Good slave. Guy, put Alexa back in her cage please."

He hadn't smiled or touched her. She began to cry. "Don't worry, kid. Your master's got a lot on his mind just now. He's not mad at you." Guy's kind words helped but she still felt rejected.

*****

Once the fever broke, Caitlin had been forced to confront reality without the comforting madness of her hallucinations. She twisted her body and stared down in misery at the healing stump on her right hand where her little finger used to be and tried to forget the awful sound and the pain as her torturer cut through skin, muscle and bone to mutilate her poor hands. The angry, red scar tissue where the branding iron had cauterized her tender flesh no longer seeped or looked infected but it still hurt like hell.

How long had it been since she lost consciousness while the skin on her back was intricately sliced with red-hot knives? What had they done to her body? All these piercings, brands and mutilations were systematically tearing away her identity. Caitlin almost wished she had gone mad - it would be easier than being aware of her awful treatment at their hands. But two things kept her sane: a burning desire for revenge against THEM and a yearning to be re-united with her father.

Both were impossible dreams in her current state. The guards had dragged her out of her cell to chain her up by her wrists in a tiled alcove where, under their harsh gaze, she had been thoroughly cleaned with a hose up her pussy and inside her backside. The mute oriental woman had then washed her body and hair, brushing out the tangles until her unruly, matted tresses were disciplined into a tight ponytail on top of her head.

Although Caitlin hated having her teeth brushed by someone else, she was particularly upset when the woman applied makeup to her face and dabbed scent behind her ears. The watching men sniggered and made comments that she knew were obscene insults, even though their words were alien. They were treating her like a piece of meat! Her hands were briefly freed from above her head, only to be locked up behind her back to her collar, and then she was roughly forced out of the shower area.

Another corridor, another room. But this one was circular and furnished with a dark red carpet and matching drapes on the walls. Large, floor-to-ceiling mirrors between the drapes reflected back the horrifying scene as Caitlin was forcibly lifted up to stand on a circular stage in the center of the room while her collar was secured at the back to an overhead chain. An overhead clicking noise made her look up to see a metal pole on two more chains lowering towards her face. With practiced ease, the two men briefly freed her wrists but locked them into broad leather straps attached to the ends of the pole, forcing her arms up and away from her body. The ankle cuffs were next, with their short chain swiftly replaced by another metal pole that secured her feet wide apart. The overhead chain attached to her collar was tightened somehow just enough to make Caitlin stand on tiptoe to relieve the pressure against her windpipe. She felt one of the men cup his hand under her cunt and steeled herself for more abuse but a sharp word from his colleague made the man scowl and remove his hand. They left her alone in the room, struggling to keep her balance on the balls of her feet for relief from the horrible choking sensation. For the first time since her abduction, Caitlin had a clear view of herself. A naked, fettered creature stared back as she turned to look in each mirror. She could see her pierced nipples, the glint of a gold ring nestling between her shaven pussy lips, and the matching ring through her nose. She swallowed and made herself protrude her tongue. There was the fifth piercing. Her eyes roamed in misery to her mutilated hands, each ending in a tiny stump where her little fingers should be. And in the reflected mirrors, all the way down her back...

...Oh God! The angry, red outline of a snake-like dragon coiled from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck. The tears she had fought so bravely began to flow freely down her cheeks. She half-stood, half-hung, exposed and adorned like an exotic whore waiting for...for whatever brutality her captors chose. She would not sob, she MUST not cry out loud and give them the satisfaction of seeing her misery. Caitlin willed herself to stop weeping before anyone came. After all, she was a straight-A Harvard law student and a Senator's daughter. Stop crying, damn it!

What seemed ages later, a man dressed in a black silk dressing gown entered and slowly closed the door. She recognized him - it was the young oriental who had been in charge during the assault on the Russian ship and who everyone in this hellish prison bowed to whenever he came to supervise or participate in her degradation and abuse. He just stood there, watching her writhe in discomfort. Finally, he loosened his robe and let it fall to the floor. He smiled and sauntered closer, pausing to stroke his partial erection, as he stood, naked like herself, only inches away from her helpless body. "You hate me?"

Caitlin glowered back and hissed, "What do you think?"

The man's smile turned to a broad grin as his cock stiffened even more, brushing against her thigh. "Hate is good. I like you hate me - see?" He slid his hard penis between her thighs so it rubbed along the line of her cleft. Putting one hand behind her neck, he pulled her head close and kissed her on the mouth. "You hate me...and you want me," he murmured and kissed her harder, biting her lower lip enough to hurt.

She tried to pull back when his tongue forced deeper into her mouth. "Ugh! In your fucking dreams, bastard!"

Her insolence was rewarded with a hard slap across her face, making her eyes water in pain. "No, in yours."

Caitlin could not help herself. A mixture of pent-up rage and disbelief made her bite back. "Are you INSANE? I've been raped and hurt and...and cut and burned and m-my fingers - y-you even had my FINGERS cut off and you actually think I find you attractive? My father is a highly respected member of the United States Senate. When he finds out what you've done to me, he'll..."

"We know all about father. We know about his Organ-ization also. You think we Yakusa not same? Him, me - we same. Maybe we send him video like Yasov. Maybe he like watch me fuck you hard."

"Wha...what do you MEAN? What is this 'organization'? My father is NOT like you! He's a decent man!"

He smiled and caressed the soft inside of her thigh. "Now you angry. This is good!" Caitlin squirmed as his finger penetrated her sex. "See? You hot and wet for me." He lifted his finger to her nose. "Smell how you want me."

"Ugh!" Her attempts at pulling back merely made him laugh. "Bastard! Leave me alone!"

Using only the tip of one fínger, he began to expertly massage her clitoris, ignoring her curses and demands to be released. Her cries became increasingly urgent until Caitlin was begging him to stop. "Ohh, Goddd!! Y-you sick, filthy, evil B-BASTARD! D-don't...OHH, P-PLEASE...ohh. d-don't...s-stop!!!"

She fought it so hard. Pulling herself up made no difference. The relentless attack on her tiny, sensitive member alternated between the hard edge of his fingernail and the soft pad of his finger. Caitlin screamed curses at him, shocking herself by her own crude words. She ground her teeth in frustration, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to think of ANYTHING else than the insistent stimulation of her helpless body. Failure came with bitter tears of defeat. In a defiant shriek, Caitlin arched and twisted in orgasm. "Bastard! I HATE YOU!!!"

"This too I like - you fight back, not give up. So...” Caitlin whimpered as he stepped over the spreader bar so his lower body separated her legs. She would have choked if he had not supported her thighs. "If you not like give, better I like take!"

The tip of the oriental man's erection nudged against her swollen, pouting labia. "Oh God, stop! Ohh please, I've been raped so many times I must be HIV positive. Uhhnnn!" Caitlin shuddered as he impaled her on the length of his engorged penis in a single thrust. "Oww! Bastard! I hope I give you AIDS!"

"You not get HIV. We fix - you have inject-ion." Before she could reply that there was no vaccine against the deadly disease, he began to fuck her so violently all she could do was shriek in pain.

After several hard thrusts, he lifted her up and withdrew from her aching cunt. He moved behind her. The man traced his finger down her intricately scarred back. "This good - I have you tattoo next but now I ass-fuck you good. You go tight on me or you get hurt bad.” When she felt his penis nudging against her anus, Caitlin cried and tried to pull herself higher. "No, ohh NOOO!!!" Her abuser simply waited for her arms to tire. With teeth gritted, she settled her weight on his cock and shrieked as the rim of his glans suddenly pushed past her tight sphincter.

He kept thrusting deeply inside her backside until he came. Withdrawing, the man whose name she did not know frowned. "You not tight enough - you disobey. You get punish now." The man snapped his fingers and a young girl dressed only in a pair of light blue gym briefs and a white sports blouse came running into the room with a cloth-covered tray. She knelt and lowered her eyes. Lifting the cloth away, the man pondered over a series of gags that were neatly arranged in a row. Caitlin shuddered as she glanced down at the display - there were large, round balls on straps, a smaller spiked ball with silver chain on either side, and something that looked like a large tip of a penis on the side of a ball. The man stroked the shaft and looked up at her horrified face. "I hear you not like suck - this make you learn." He picked up the horrible gag and held the black rubber glans against her firmly clamped lips. "Open mouth."

"Nnnnn! Mmmmmph!!" She tried to turn her head but he took hold of her nose and pinched it shut. "Nnnn!!! Gkkkkk!!!"

"Open mouth!"

Caitlin struggled to keep her jaw closed but he squeezed her nose harder and pushed the penis gag further so her lips were forced apart and the rubber tip squeaked horribly on the outside of her teeth. "NNNNN!!!" It was finally too much. She had to get some air or suffocate. As she tried to open her mouth just enough to draw breath, the man let go of her nose and suddenly lifted her collar chain so high that her toes could not even reach the stage! Caitlin's eyes bulged in fright. "AKKK!!! MMMMFFFF!!!" The rubber glans pushed past her teeth and rammed deeper into her mouth. Mercifully, her assailant released her collar chain so she could regain her footing and stop being strangled by her collar.

Once the gag's straps were tightly buckled behind her head, the young man stepped back with his hands on his hips and rested one foot on the edge of the round stage. "I like you better shut up. Maybe we take tongue out later if you not learn lick prop-erly. Now we teach you why obey is good idea." With one hard kick, he propelled the round stage out from under her splayed feet.

Caitlin dangled in mid air, desperately moving her feet around in a vain attempt to reach the floor with her toes. Her collar dug in under her jaw. The only way she could avoid suffocation was by pulling herself up by her arms so she could breathe!

And he just stood there watching. Caitlin gasped in as much air as she could manage and relaxed her aching arms. Her collar squeezed her neck, making her cough and expel her air. She thrashed her splayed legs in panic, gurgling and rolling her eyes as she began to die.

The young man made no attempt to replace the round stage. Instead, he took hold of her chin and made her look at his face. "You want to live? You lift, you take a long breath...HOLD - 1, 2, 3...you let breath all out. Now you relax arms...WAIT - 1, 2, 3...you lift again!" He stood back again and watched her follow the rhythm. "Good. You learn fast you only live if you obey and please me. I take you to humil-iate Yasov but maybe I keep you for fuck-toy anyway."

Caitlin's abuser grinned at her expression of pure hatred above the horrid gag, while she struggled to conserve her energy and maintain the pattern he had set to keep her alive...for as long as her arms did not tire. He was not satisfied with the damage they had inflicted on her body. This sadist intended to break her will, to ruin her mind! Well, they had underestimated her and if they wanted a docile, obedient sex-slave, they had another thing coming! Disobedience had extremely high stakes but despite the danger, Caitlin was determined to play. Let's see whose nerve fails first, she thought. If I lose, it will be a quicker end and on MY terms!

The young oriental man raised a quizzical eyebrow when she lifted herself up for more than three seconds. Their eyes locked as she counted to twenty, her arms trembling with exertion. He looked displeased as she reached thirty seconds then his mouth gaped when she loudly exhaled and let herself go limp.

The pain in her chest as she hung with her throat squeezed shut was excruciating but she was determined not to pull herself up and draw a breath. Caitlin's lungs ached for air. Her constricted neck made her dizzy. The vision of her abuser's surprised face became blurred. She heard his shouts of alarm from a distance as she lost consciousness and bladder control...

***

"What am I going to do with her?"

Alexa opened one eye and peeped out through the heavy, steel bars of the slave cage. Her master was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the photo he kept in his wallet. Alexa had seen the picture only once, when Master Phil had inadvertently left it out while taking a shower in his apartment at the Ranch. She hadn't touched it, of course, and felt a little guilty even looking at it. The photo was of a younger version of her master with his arm around a very pretty dark-haired girl on the porch of a house. They were smiling broadly and the girl was resting her hand on her obviously pregnant belly.

Although it was a happy picture, Alexa felt great sadness for her master. Something had happened to take away the good things he had once shared with the girl by his side. She would never mention it but she wondered if this was the person called 'Laura' that he sometimes called out to in his sleep or during sex.

Alexa pretended to stir as though she was just beginning to wake and watched Master Charles quickly put the photo away. She struggled onto her back in the cage and rubbed her eyes with her heavily cuffed hands.

The comforting restraints of her extra fetters and the reassurance of the securely locked cage had been wonderful. After Guy finished chaining her ankles to the end of the cage, she had lifted up her hands so he could lock her arms above her head. But he only locked her collar chain around the bars, leaving her fettered hands free to reach down her body. "Not too much playing, kid - remember to get some rest." Guy had grinned and ruffled her hair through the bars, making the heat rise in her face. Once he had left her alone in the room, she took advantage of her free hands and soothed herself to sleep...

...And now her master was looking at her, his eyes roaming from her face to her pierced breasts, her brand, her thighs. Alexa kept her eyes on his, slowly raised her left leg higher to reveal her vulva and moved her head to expose her collared throat. Master Charles' somber expression dissolved into a grin. "Teasing a master can get an insolent slave into trouble."

The trouble came in the form of being hauled out the cage, bent face down over the end and savagely taken from behind. Alexa gasped under her master's weight, crushing her against the cage's bars while he repeatedly thrust into her body. It was such a relief, such a release to be intensely fucked in this way. Perhaps whatever was on her master's mind was easing.

Picking her up and carrying his little slave over his shoulder, Master Charles threw her onto her back on the bed, forced her cuffed hands above her head. "Resist me, slave. Don't make it too easy."

Alexa intensely disliked this order. It had been something that Marek had used during her slave training at the Château. It went against all her naturally compliant instincts as a submissive and her first master's son had tested her obedience to the limit with his harsh command to fight against rape. Her mind went back to the experience of being easily overpowered by two guards specially chosen by Marek while he watched. She had half-heartedly tried to resist until her back passage and vagina were deeply penetrated. Then Marek had abruptly stopped the double-rape and made her resist them all over again. He would not be satisfied until she did it properly. On the fourth attempt, Alexa had nearly bitten a guard's arm and scratched his face. But she became so distraught at what she'd done to him that Marek had to abandon the lesson and have her sedated. After speaking to his father, Marek had never again ordered her to resist rape.

But now, faced with the same command from her master, she fought down bitter memories of her childhood to dutifully writhe and struggle with all her might, trying to wriggle away and keep her head turned from his face. If Master Charles wanted her to resist rape, she would do her best to obey. Anyway, with her wrists and ankles in chains, there was little she could do apart from yield to his superior strength and agility. She nearly managed to slide her body out from under his but he quickly shoved his knee between her thighs, hooking his foot under her ankle chain. His second leg pushed her knees wider apart so her ankle chain was taut over the backs of his calves. With one hand still pinning her wrist chain and the other in the small of her back, lifting her pelvis towards his groin, Master Charles drove his swollen penis deeply into her aching vagina then lowered his head and fiercely kissed her waiting mouth.

Alexa convulsed in an overwhelming mixture of shock, desire, and fulfillment. "Ash, my little slave. Stephen was right about you - one of the best rides a master could find!"

As they lay together in post-orgasmic afterglow, Master Charles gently stroked her hair. Alexa began to silently cry but she did not know what her tears were for. She was safe in the arms of her beloved master but something had changed. Her nightmarish dreams of prison and some kind of execution chamber had mercifully ceased haunting her sleep so why did she have such an overwhelming feeling of sadness and dread? Master Charles held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. "Shh, little one, everything is going to be okay."

There was a soft knocking at the door that followed a pre-arranged sequence. "Guy? What's wrong?" Master Charles had the door open in seconds. "What is it?"

"New York Center just called, sir. They have an urgent message for you from Yasov in Moscow. He says he has to speak to you right away. Says it’s very important."

*****

"These are pleasing." Guljana winced as her assailant tugged at her left nipple ring. "And this is decorative." He jabbed his finger into the center of her brand. "I have seen this sign before on the jet that the devil they call 'Ramasfael' used at Kabul airfield. Are all the female slaves in the USA marked like this to show who owns them? Perhaps these Americans are more civilized than we think! But what I do not understand, my little houri, is why you are here.” Sharazai's breath stank as he spoke close to her ear. Guljana had been stripped naked and bound to a heavy beam of wood across her shoulders so her arms were painfully outstretched.

The scarred and burned face of the Afghan warlord continued to examine her. "Do my looks offend you, little Jana? Well you may thank your Yankee devil-masters for that." He moved closer. "They think that I died in the fire when our vehicles were attacked by their marines but I survived, Allah be praised. You also survived. Badly wounded as I was, I watched them take you away in the helicopter. Yet now Allah has delivered you into my hands a second time. And I think I know why.” Sharazai cruelly smiled at the quivering girl and raised his voice. "In His infinite wisdom, the Most Merciful One wishes me to cleanse away all fleshly temptations so your whore's tricks and vile heresies can no longer deceive the faithful."

Guljana whimpered through the knotted gag in her mouth.

Zia's mother came over and kicked her bare leg. "She is a witch, Sharazai, the daughter of a witch and a Soviet devil, from a long line of witches. You heard her grandfather confess before he died from your questioning. Her family secretly worshipped a heathen Goddess and she is a priestess of Isis! Allowing her to live is like cursing the Holy Prophet! Look at her - she is shamelessly adorned and marked like a houri but she is unmarried. Filthy WHORE!" She pulled a savage knife from under her burqa. "Let me kill her for you, Sharazai, to keep your hands pure of Shaitan's blood!"

"You will NOT, woman!" Sharazai sent her sprawling with his fist. "It is the law of Sharia that an adulteress and a heretic shall be flogged then stoned to death but I will not permit it for this girl." Guljana sobbed in relief. A stoning was such a slow, cruel way to die. He began to stroke her long, blonde hair. "Gather wood. Set a stake in the courtyard. If she truly belongs to Shaitan then we shall send her to the flames of hell through the cleansing fire, like that Yankee pilot-whore they sent to spy on us!" His captive shrieked in horror at the death sentence. Sharazai stroked her trembling cheek "Heat the irons. We must make sure she cannot breed more of Shaitan's legions to torment the faithful before she is sent back to hell.

"But first," he murmured so only Guljana could hear, "you will spend a last few pleasant hours alone with me. After all, we have so much to discuss, don't we, girl?"

HARVEST OF TEARS

CHAPTER 14

By slave ruthie

Master Charles slowly replaced the receiver but kept his hand on the phone. He paused for a moment before looking across the desk at Guy. "It appears that a container ship operated by the Solntsevskaya was taking our Senator's daughter to Yasov. Apparently, it was scuttled off the northern Japanese coast by the Yakuza and they are holding the girl. It seems that the dispute between the Japanese and Russians over the quality of recent cocaine shipments is escalating out of control - snatching the girl is obviously intended to provoke and embarrass the major."

Guy waited patiently for the Organization's Head of Security to continue but he could guess what was coming next.

"I need to go to Kobe. Oleg has asked me to intervene before matters deteriorate into an all-out gang war. The Kumicho is old and his potential successor is a headstrong, rather ruthless young man. Guy, I need to ask a very big favor of you."

"Alexa - you want me to keep an eye on her."

Master Charles nodded. "She cannot come with me. It is too risky. Ideally, she should be taken back to the Ranch or the Center."

Guy raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"But Don Marco told me yesterday how happy Rosario appeared whenever Alexa was present. He has been worried about his granddaughter since she killed her fiancé after discovering the affair between him and that attorney. Don Marco confided that even he was shocked by what Rosario had done to the other woman - she had her slowly vivisected and fed alive to the pigs at the Family's upstate farm where they dispose of the ruined hookers and other unwanted garbage."

Guy frowned but kept silent. The Family's method of cleaning up was well known but systematically cutting pieces off a woman and making her watch while animals ate her flesh was pretty extreme stuff, even for him.

Alexa's master continued. "Apparently, Rosario has been increasingly withdrawn over the last few months. He was about to suggest therapy - until she became interested in my slave. Don Marco deliberately made Rosario my Alexa's ward because he felt it would be good for her." He sighed. "I will have to leave her here under your supervision but if Alexa puts a foot wrong or shows any aggression, you must kill her immediately on my authority. She is still under a suspended death sentence, remember." He could see from the man's expression his explanation was not enough. He would have to trust the man. "Okay, this goes no further - I need your absolute guarantee of silence about what I am about to say. "

"Look sir, I owe you my life. If you hadn't taken out that sniper in Honduras I would've bled to death while he kept me pinned down. So take it as read - you can count on me." Guy took out a cigarette but made no effort to light it. He knew Master Charles hated the smell of tobacco smoke.

"Do you remember the Roslyn Institute's experimental slave breeding program?"

Guy shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah - I was one of the cleaners when the program was closed down. It still gives me the creeps what we had to do - eliminating those cute little blonde, blue-eyed girls was one of the hardest contracts I ever faced, sir." He looked puzzled. "But what's this got to do with your Alexa? She's not related to...no! No way - she CAN'T be a Roslyn girl. Begging your pardon, sir, but Alexa doesn't look...like them."

"You mean she is not pretty enough. And no, you have not offended me. Alexa is not blessed with a good figure or exceptional looks but she is much more than 'collar candy' as far as I am concerned. The conventional ideas of what makes a woman beautiful have never satisfied me. Alexa has a highly attractive personality that more than makes up for her defects in the looks department. Returning to your questions, I have documents that suggest she is an accidental by-product of the program - an unforeseen twin that was never traced so escaped being destroyed. She did not inherit the physical characteristics of a Roslyn clone but if she has any of their behavioral defects, Alexa would be too dangerous to keep alive. This is a damned mess!" Guy was staring down at the unlit cigarette. "So you'll keep a close watch on Alexa? And not a word of this to a soul, not even Gérard, okay?" The man nodded.

Master Charles sighed then smiled to himself. "Who would have thought it?”

"Pardon, sir?"

"I used to think that a master who worries about his slaves' feelings is weak and lacks proper control. Yet here I am, wondering about the best way to tell Alexa she has to stay with you here at Rosario's home." He looked at Guy's grinning face. "Oh for God's sake man, open the window and light your damn cigarette! I might even join you, if you have a spare."

"I wouldn't recommend it, sir. Been trying to quit for ages."

*****

Sitting astride the bidet, Alexa held herself open and let the gentle fountain of warm water play inside her labia. Her thoughts wandered while she enjoyed the soothing and mildly stimulating flow dancing at the mouth of her vagina. For some reason, she remembered the old woman who aimlessly wandered around the streets of the London borough that had been here home after leaving care. Would the homeless woman still be alive? Alexa hoped she had found refuge or at least a hot meal at the drop-in center that Master Stephen had supported so generously as her 'slave price'.

Alexa was so absorbed in her thoughts that she had not heard the door being pushed open. "Now I know why women take so long in the bathroom!" In her hurry to get off the bidet and kneel for her grinning master, she managed to slip on the wet tiles and ended up on her back with her legs apart, giving him an excellent view between her thighs. "Very nice, slave but I should not need to inspect you for cleanliness." He snapped his fingers and made the sign for her to 'kneel and attend'. "Back straighter - palm flat on each buttock. Good girl." Master Charles tucked a stray lock of his slave's hair behind her right ear. "Listen carefully. I have to leave for a few days. No, do not look like that. You will remain here under Guy's supervision. If you are told to do anything by Master Gérard or Rosario, you will obey them unless Guy says otherwise. I will return here for you." He took out his handkerchief and handed it to the quietly weeping girl. "Dry your tears, slave. It is only for a few days at most." When she tried to hand the monogrammed cotton square back, he smiled and shook his head. "Keep it in your cage until I return."

She held on until her master's limousine drove away, leaving her kneeling at Guy's side in the vaulted entrance to Rosario's mansion. As the vehicle disappeared from view, Alexa sank forwards onto her hands, ignoring the tension on her lead to cry her heart out on the marble floor.

Guy waited while the little slave at his feet shook, her body racked by uncontrollable sobbing. But no wails echoed around the vestibule. Instead, a muffled croaking sound was all Alexa could manage. After a few minutes, he gently tugged on the leash. "Right, kid. You can mope until your master gets back or you can make sure he enjoys the best welcome a slave can give her owner on his return."

Startled out of her misery, Alexa looked up into Guy's face. He smiled and ruffled her hair. "Yeah, THAT got your attention, kid. Let's go find Rosario. I want her in on this."

As they walked towards the gym, Alexa summoned enough courage to ask Guy a question that had puzzled her since her dear sister-slave Guljana had told her how much she liked and admired the man. In her husky, weak voice, she whispered, "Please, Guy, umm...why aren't you a master? Me and Guli think you'd be g-great." Then her nerve failed and she covered her mouth in shame for being so outspoken.

"Been offered a Master's Ring twice and I don't reckon to be invited a third time. Hell, what would I do with a personal slave? She could never be like my Billie-Jean, anyhow."

It was only then that Alexa realized he had a wedding ring on his finger. Guy was married? But he was a professional killer and a senior guard in the Organization - was she dead?

He followed her gaze. "She left me while I was inside, kid." He shrugged and grinned ruefully. "Still wear it for sentimental reasons. You and Guljana are good girls - thanks for the vote of confidence. Now let's find the Doc and your Rosario."

Alexa knelt at Guy's side and listened with growing excitement to his words. Guy had suggested using the time while Master Charles was away to prepare herself as best as possible for his return. "So if its okay with you, I want to put this kid through a whole load of slave training and maybe, ma'am, you could help with organizing some kind of beauty stuff to make her look real nice for when her master gets back - you know, womanly things like getting her hair fixed up real pretty."

Rosario's face broke into a broad smile. "Oh, I think we can do much better than that. Alfonso?" The Italian inclined his head. "I fancy some late night shopping - Macy's is as good a place to begin with as any. Arrange it for this evening. A private viewing - Alexa and I shall have the store to ourselves."

Guy rubbed the end of his nose. "Meaning no disrespect, ma'am, that's not what I meant. Alexa is only a slave and her master gave me orders to keep her secured at all times. She can't go out in public."

Rosario glared at him and bit back, "Alexa may be 'only a slave' to you but here she is a highly valued member of the Family. She is my ward and my friend." The frown vanished and Rosario smiled once more but with less warmth than before. "Besides, you surely know how beneficial a spell of retail therapy can be to any woman. Why, with her wealth in trust, she could practically buy the entire contents of that department store with her loose change!"

"Ma'am, she can't be seen in public. Alexa has to be chained all the time and I reckon her master wouldn't let her go neither."

"Then you might as well take her back to your Organization's kennels right away because I am NOT going to be told what to do by a GUEST!” She paused, relishing their stunned silence, then continued in a controlled but menacing tone. "I do not like to be disappointed, do I Alfonso?"

"Non, Padrona."

"And if you obstruct me in looking after my ward's best interests I will be VERY disappointed...and the Family will have been insulted by your Organization. Capische, Guy?"

Guy looked at Gérard for support but found none. Why was the doctor so meek in the presence of their hostess? "Well, if you put it like that..."

"I like a man who sees sense and quits when he knows he's not going to change a woman's mind - don't you agree, Gérard dear?"

She neither received nor required a reply.

*****

"Nothing, Mister Senator - not a trace." This was one of the worst days in General S_____'s long career. "The burnt-out Hummer only had one body inside and the dog tags indicate it was the charred remains of Sergeant Gomez. The medics say his hands and feet were tied with wire and he was still alive when they torched the vehicle. Filthy animals!"

The Senator felt sick with fear and with his own stupidity. How could he have been so foolish? His beautiful slave-jewel was missing in one of the worst parts of Afghanistan. It was obvious that the military were useless in tracking her down. "I'm going to see K_____. The man comes from this province so he must know people who can help." Before he left for the Presidential Palace, he barked at the general. "Keep looking - do anything necessary to find my assistant. She is extremely important!"

*****

Breathing was painful. As she slowly regained consciousness, Caitlin discovered that every part of her body was also painful. She slowly moved her arms and legs - her ankles were still in cuffs and chains. She tried to pull her manacled arms down her back but the chain to her collar stopped her, as usual. But she was not back on the hard floor in a cell. The surface she was lying on felt soft and silky. She realized she was on a large bed...and she was not alone.

"You try you make die again, you get wish but we make very much slow and bad so you beg for quick end." It was her abuser from the mirrored torture chamber.

He was climbing on top of her, using his knees to lever her thighs apart. "Bastard - get OFF me!" Caitlin struggled but his hands were pulling her up at the hips, forcing her backside towards his groin. "Stop! OWWW!!!” The blunt tip of his penis rammed past her labia to thrust inside her vagina.

With one hand under her belly to keep her raised up, he traced a finger of his free hand along the ornate scar tissue that adorned her back. He had stopped fucking her but remained deep inside her cunt. "You hate me much still?"

Caitlin snorted in disbelief and wiped her eyes on the silk sheet. "I DESPISE you, y-you BASTARD. Is this the only way you can get a woman - by keeping her captive and in chains? You're a pathetic coward!"

He laughed and she felt him stiffen inside her body. "You insult me very good! I want you keep hate me all-time, Kaya-ti-rin."

"It's 'Caitlin' with an 'L', you bastard.” His erection went rock hard.

"See how much I like you be inso-lent? You rude American bitch - no respect, no manners. Ah but I not say you my name! Pardon! I rude too - my name Kazuo Takumi, I wakagashira-hosa of Yamaguchi-gumi Yakuza. See? I am polite - not like you, Yankee BITCH!" He leaned forward, hooked a finger through the ring on the back of her collar and pulled her head up, making her choke. "You learn obey me fast or you die much slow, much lot of pain." He let go of her collar, withdrew from her vagina, and moved to sit above her head. She watched him open a red leather box he picked up from a bedside table. Several steel instruments were neatly arranged within. He lifted out the first object that looked like two pairs of bent forceps joined at the tips. "This for keep mouth open wide." The next item had razor-sharp spikes that were horribly familiar. "This for hold tongue and pull out of mouth - you know this, yes?" The last object looked like curved garden scissors. "This for good cut deep down at back of mouth!"

Caitlin trembled. She knew what he was threatening and had experienced similar torture instruments when they had pierced her inside her mouth! "Please," she whispered, "n-not that - not my..."

Opening his legs, he beckoned towards his engorged phallus. "So! Now you suck proper-ly deep all way, you drink all and clean after. If you make perfect blowjob, you get keep tongue. If not...” He picked up the cutting instrument, pinched the satin sheet and snipped through the valuable fabric.

Caitlin was filled with revulsion. She'd hated the whole idea of using her mouth to satisfy a man ever since her prom when her date, a quarterback, had taken his penis out and finally persuaded her to kiss the end. He had ejaculated immediately even as her mouth brushed the tip. It was disgusting - in her hair, running down her cheek, and staining her black prom dress. The boy had laughed and jeered at her shocked revulsion...until her long fingernails dug into his softening flesh. That had changed his tune!

But now she was at risk of losing her tongue, possibly even her life, unless she expertly fellated this horrible man who had orchestrated the rapes, tortures, and mutilations since she was seized from the Russian ship. Caitlin looked up at the waiting man's cock. "Please," she whispered in despair, "I don't know how to do it properly!"

"So now you learn fast. Maybe I tell you how or maybe I let you fail." He pointed at his cock. "You start NOW."

Caitlin struggled higher up the bed towards the apex of his thighs. His penis looked so huge, glistening at the broad tip. She could see distended veins slightly pulsing along the shaft. It was disgusting! Since her abduction, she had been made to endure oral rape many times but her mouth had been forced open with rings on straps and there was nothing she could do to stop them. This was different. This time SHE had to pleasure her sadistic captor and bring him off inside her mouth. Oddly, the prospect of swallowing his semen did not distress her - the first time a man had emptied his seed between her lips, she had found it slimy but the taste was not so bad...like an oyster but less salty. No, it was having to 'give head' without being forced. Caitlin took strange comfort in the fact that he had threatened to cut out her tongue if she did not do what he wanted. She was acting under duress - that was a good defense in court. She moved closer, struggled up and parted her lips to envelop his penis but he smacked her on the top of her head.

"No-no, too quick. You kiss balls first, you lick slow, take time." He pushed her down and leaned back. Caitlin choked back a sob and did as she was told.

*****

Flying in the helicopter from Rosario's mansion to Manhattan was an absolute nightmare for Alexa. Wearing some baggy clothes salvaged before all of Maria's possessions were incinerated in the basement, she had been unfettered except for her collar, which was hidden under a high-neck sweater. Alexa had then been strapped into a seat squeezed between Guy and Alfonso. Lifting off from the ground was frightening enough but hovering so high above the towering buildings illuminated against the darkening sky was a dreadful torment. Alexa fought unsuccessfully against memories of spinning and dangling off the Organization's tower, of Miller's desperate, clawing hands before he slid down and finally fell to his death. She felt dizzy. She felt sick. They were going to crash! She would fall out into the night air, plummeting towards the ground...and death!

Alexa kept her eyes tightly squeezed shut to help contain her terror. The noise was tremendous, even with the headphones covering her ears. She groped in self-imposed blindness until her fingers found what she sought in Guy's strong arm. He gripped her reassuringly in the comforting way a slave should be held - never by the hand, always firmly around the wrist.

"C'mon, kid. It's over - we've landed." Guy released the safety harness and helped her out onto the helipad. Hearing the distant howl of police car sirens, Alexa made the mistake of opening her eyes. They weren't on the ground - they were high up on a ROOF! Her legs buckled and she sagged down in shock.

Rosario watched her little friend being carried to the elevator by the Organization's chief assassin. Alexa had her arms wrapped tightly about Guy's body and had buried her face in the side of his neck. "She is so emotional all the time," Rosario commented to her companion. "Is Alexa mentally unstable?"

Gérard smiled. "Non. Pétite Alexa is one of the toughest slaves I have known for coping with extreme stress. Considering what she has been through, she is remarkably sane! No, it is merely a side-effect of her HET."

"Explain this 'HET' business." It was not a question. Rosario expected a full answer.

"Alexa was sterilized after being enslaved. Her ovaries were surgically removed, taking all the usual female hormones with them. Without supplements she would experience premature menopause." Rosario's expression was unreadable but Gérard sensed she was not pleased by his words. "She has a subcutaneous slow-release gel strip that you can just feel if you press firmly down on her upper left arm. It supplies the exact balance of hormones and, ahh, some additional stimulants to keep her aroused and at the peak of her sexual cycle - permanently 'in heat' if you wish. I recommend you have the same procedure done to Maria. The result is a pliant, highly, ahh, responsive slave."

Rosario's voice remained calm. "And did you store the eggs?"

"Pardon?"

"Her eggs - Alexa's ova. Were they frozen?"

"No, they would be incinerated as surgical waste. Why do you ask, Rosario?"

Rosario watched her little friend being reassured by Guy and her own man, Alfonso. "Never mind, it does not matter now. Come on." But it did matter. Her ward had been stripped of any chance of motherhood and turned into a living sex doll. Rosario was troubled by the cold fury in her heart - why did she care so much about what had been done to the girl?

A calmer Alexa stood in the center of the colorful displays and gaped in awe at the beautiful clothes and accessories. She had only once dared to look in one of the stores on Oxford Street but had been stopped by Security, frisked for stolen goods, and then marched out of a back entrance, as their products were 'not for the likes of your kind'. And now she was in a fabulous department with exclusive access!

Rosario gently touched her ward's shoulder. "Well, little Alexa - what would you like to try on first? What would your master like?"

"Please, Rosar...umm, Padrona - I don't know." Alexa gritted her teeth and fought down the emotional turmoil that threatened to overwhelm everything. What would Master Charles have chosen? She could almost hear his voice...'A slave in clothing is like a gift begging to be unwrapped'. Yes, that is it. "Umm, do they have any red leather dresses please?"

Rosario threw back her head and roared with laughter. "I very much doubt Macy's will stretch to that!" She grinned. "Alfonso, you know that fetish boutique in Queens?"

"Si, Padrona."

"Bene. Find the owner - wake her up if necessary. We will be there in about an hour to look over her entire stock. If Alexa's master enjoys Fetish Couture, we will oblige him! In the meantime, however, I will help Alexa select a few essential items from the lingerie department."

*****

"Remember this, my little Guli? You are still tight, like a young boy."

Guljana screamed in agony into the filthy, knotted rope that had been forced into her mouth. Sharazai laughed and pushed his erection deeper between his pretty victim's firm buttocks. She was hanging off the ground by her wrists from a wooden beam. It pulled up the girl's breasts nicely. Her ankles and knees were tightly tied to keep her from thrashing her legs around. The boulder suspended from her feet helped keep her soft backside as taut as possible. Such a pity she had to die.

He reached around to play with the ring through the flesh of Guljana's sex. It intrigued him that the Americans let their females retain their little penises. How did they keep them faithful and dutiful? Did they not realize that it was through a woman's sexual parts that Shaitan corrupted her inferior mind and feeble body? He pulled the little ring harder, enjoying the muted shrieks from the girl. Perhaps this was how the Americans kept their females loyal - by pain to their sensitive parts. Maybe these infidels were not as uncivilized as he had thought!

The moment had arrived. This would be the last time Sharazai emptied himself into the sweet, struggling body of the half-breed girl. Soon, a red-hot poker would replace his stiff cock. It would ensure the she-devil could never again tempt another man away from righteousness, even if she escaped from the torments of hell. His rough hands slid up her belly to cup then cruelly squeeze her pierced breasts as a final sigh of orgasmic pleasure escaped his lips. "Ahh...you could have borne me sons, my little Guli. But my duty to Allah is clear. Perhaps I will cleanse myself of you by destroying your beautiful body."

He withdrew, selected a heavy whip from the rack and walked around her trembling form, carefully selecting where the first lash should strike. "Such a pity..."

CRACK!!!

"Uhhhnnn!" A crimson arc of pain erupted across Guljana's back.

WHACK!!!

"UUHHNN! PLSS!" Another red line appeared below the first one.

CRACK!!!

"NNNNN! STPPP!" Guljana's squeals of pain became more urgent as fiery weals cut into both her buttocks.

"Ahh, my little Guli, I cannot stop. I must do this to save my soul from eternal hell." Sharazai moved around and drew back his arm, aiming the next strike across her soft, inviting breasts.

As more blows from the whip fell across her belly and thighs, Guljana's shrieks grew higher and wilder. Her brutal attacker was muttering verses from the Qu'ran while he systematically lashed her agonized flesh. Her hands and feet were numb from the ropes around her wrists and ankles. She bit onto the hemp knot that partially filled her mouth and prayed that she would soon lose consciousness.

Harvest Of Tears - The Organization Series 4

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