Heather Page 14

  What he’d described was a horror story, but Heather remembered Shuka. She rose from her knees to put her arms around his neck and parting her lips kissed him. When she drew back she looked into his eyes, “Oh yes, Daddy, I would love all that you mentioned. I’m sure my training would be quick because I’d like to be a little girl for you. I know I would come to love my sisters and want to pleasure them. Each day I’d look forward to the evening when I could make love to your penis and drink your cum.”

  He nodded smiling, “I will do my best to outbid the others, but they are very rich and determined men.” He took her hand and led her to the bed. “Get naked,” he said. By the time she had slipped out of her clothes and taken off the tap shoes, he was snoring. She climbed in beside him. Once, during the night, he awoke and required her to suck him off again but fell asleep as soon as he’d shot another small thin stream of cum into her mouth.

  In the morning, while he continued to snore, Carmella came for her. “Tonight you go to the Afghani, Rashid.” she said.

  “He’s the one who has a stable of what he calls “pony girls”?

  “Yes, like Aleem he has developed a strenuous training program that lasts about six months. The girls are trained to pull pony carts and taken to the homes of men like Rashid to race.”

  “Does he...does he...use his pony girls for his own pleasure?”

  “Not often. When he does he just fucks their ass. He believes a woman’s cunt is always filthy and infected with disease, especially the cunts of white women.”

  Heather smiled, “But their asses are cleaner?” Carmella shrugged.” Heather was permitted to sleep for several hours before showering. Madam Celia, Carmella, and the girl, Anita, began to prepare Heather in the early evening. Laid out on the bed were a bridle and bit, reins, straps to bind her breasts, thick soled leather boots,” blinders, a head band with a colorful feather sticking up from it, and a black dildo with a flowing pony tail attached to it. After they had made up her face and brushed her hair, the bridle was strapped to her head, the reins knotted at the back of her neck and hanging down to her ass crack. “Bend over,” Madam Celia ordered, “Anita is going to lube your asshole so we can insert the pony tail.” Heather felt the lubricant squirt into her anal passage followed by the thick black dildo. While Madam Celia pulled the bridle straps tighter, Carmella fitted the bit into her mouth. The three women stepped back and nodded. “Yes, she would make a fine pony girl,” Madam Celia said.

  They led her to Rashid’s quarters. Like Aleem he sat in a wing back chair facing her. She took three steps into the room and heard the door close behind her. Rashid observed her closely for several minutes. “I understand you are athletic, that you are strong and can run long distances?” Heather nodded her head ‘yes’. “You have a good body. I noticed how firm it is while you were whipped the other night.” Heather felt herself blushing at the compliment. “Have they explained to you what your life will be like as a pony girl?”

  Heather nodded slightly. “I’m sure they didn’t explain fully.” He crooked a finger at her.

  She started toward him. He held up his hand. “Ponies lift their legs high with each step. They arch their back, head up, eyes looking forward. They thrust their breasts forward. They take great pride in the way they move.”

  Heather tried again, lifting her legs as high as she could, arching her back, looking steadily at him. “That’s better,” he said. “You should know that after their training, my pony girls think of themselves as ponies. Their only desire is to win races for me. They live in barn stalls and eat and drink from a trough. The servants and stable hands can have them whenever they wish. They can have them however they wish: their mouths, their cunts, their assholes.”“ He reached beside him and picked up a short riding crop. “Turn around and present,” he said. Heather turned her back to him and bent over. “You will become well acquainted with the whip and, in time, will welcome it.” He raised the crop and brought it down hard on one of her ass cheeks. She flinched but made no sound. He struck the other ass cheek. Then, alternating the strokes he counted off ten. They left angry red welts, but she remained silent. “Good,” he said. “Turn around and stand up.”

  When she did, she saw that he’d opened his robe. His long thing dark uncircumcised cock stuck straight out. She glanced at it but then looked back up at his sneering face. He smiled slightly, “So, American white bitch, would you like to become one of my pony girls?” She grunted and nodded her head rapidly. “You will train hard and win races for me?” Again she nodded. He motioned her to him and indicated she should lean down. Deftly he removed the bit from her mouth. “Let me hear you say it,” he said.

  Heather’s mouth had filled with saliva. She swallowed quickly. “Yes, Master Rashid, I would very much like to become a pony girl, a member of your stable. I promise I will train very hard and do my best to win races for you and make you proud of me.”

  “Well, I’m bidding against some very rich men, but I will offer as much as I can to buy you.”

  She glanced at his hard cock again and licked her lips, “Would you like me to...”

  He cut her off, “Your ass,” he said. Obediently she turned around and bent over.

  He moved the dildo in and out a few times. She tried to suppress a moan but couldn’t.

  “You like your ass fucked?”

  “Yes, Master. I do.”

  He slid the dildo out and rammed his stiff cock into her anal passage. She grunted, then began to move back against him, matching his rhythm. He grabbed her ass cheeks. She could feel his long pointed fingernails dig into her. Within three minutes he cried out and pumped his cum into her. “Yes,” he said, “just as I thought very tight and very hot. Arab men will enjoy abusing such a fine American ass.” He rang for Madam Celia who must have been standing right outside the door. She appeared immediately and taking the reins, led Heather out of the room.

  Heather remembered to lift her legs high and arch her back. It had been only little more than an hour since she’d left her quarters and she was back. “That was quick,” she said, as Carmella helped her out of the pony dressage. Heather sat down as Carmella tugged at the heavy leather boots. “So far, it seems these men aren’t much interested in normal sex or any sex at all.”

  Madam Celia nodded, “They see the slaves they buy as objects, to be used and displayed. You’ll find Satomi and Shuka are the same.”

  “The slaves are dehumanized then?”

  “Yes, of course. All four of these men have developed complicated training programs to do exactly that, dehumanize their slaves. Unfortunately, their programs are successful.” She paused, “Thank God General Cruiz does not believe in such things. He prefers his women to be who they are, beautiful and exciting women.”

  “Tomorrow night I’m to be sent to the Japanese, Mr. Satomi?”

  “Yes,” Madam Celia said, “he is your best chance to escape being sold to Shuka. He is as rich or even richer than Shuka. He can outbid him if he wants you enough.”

  For her meeting with Mr. Satomi she wore a pale blue floor length negligee that tied at the waist. Her make up meticulous, her feet bare. His quarters were much larger and more exquisitely furnished than the others. He sat in a hard back chair that faced the center of the room where there had been erected a wooden platform above which hung a sort of rope sling. Satomi was dressed completely in black; black suit, black shirt, black shoes. His face was partly hidden by dark tinted sunglasses. She could not see his eyes. His face was lean, high cheekbones, thin lips, black hair slicked back. He was very thin, and not very tall around five-eight she thought. She sensed there were others in the room behind an ornate folding screen. Submissively she stood, head bowed, before Satomi awaiting his orders.

  He pointed at the ribbon that tied at her waist. She undid it letting the negligee part. He jerked his head up and to the side. She took this to mean that he wanted her to remove the negligee. She lifted it away from her shoulders and let it fall at her feet. She felt his
eyes burning into her. She blushed as her nipples stiffened. She could feel her pussy moisten. In his hand he held a remote. He tapped it once. Two much older Japanese men dressed in black robes came out from behind the screen each carrying a bundle of rough hemp rope.

  They led Heather to the platform. Her breasts were circled with ropes which then circled her waist and met at her back where they bound her arms at the wrists and above her elbows. An overhead rope was tied to the back of her waist and pulled until her ass was lifted about two feet from the floor. Then her legs were bent and her calves tied tightly to her thighs. Two more ropes dropped from overhead. These were attached to the ropes that circled her thighs pulling them apart to completely expose her pussy.

  The rough hemp cut into her. She was sure the bonds would cut off her circulation but the tying was so expert that she experienced no numbness. She faced Satomi, her legs spread. She knew he could see that her exposed pussy glistened with her secretions. Satomi touched his remote again. From behind the screen appeared the beautiful young blonde American girl he’d brought with him. Heather remembered that she’d once been a novitiate. Satomi managed to get to her through her sister who had undergone his training but somehow had escaped him. The girl’s name she recalled was Mary Margaret. She was stunningly beautiful, rather thin, long wavy blonde hair falling down her back to her waist, startling bright blue eyes, a look and demeanor of pure innocence.

  It was impossible to believe she was devoted to the dark expressionless Japanese.

  She was completely naked; her small breasts tipped with pink pointed nipples, her face angelic, very little subdued makeup, the nails of her tiny hands and feet unpainted. Her pussy hairless. Without looking at Satomi, she moved quickly to kneel before Heather’s spread legs. “Would you like me to lick your cunt?” she asked in a soft whispery voice. Without waiting for an answer she leaned forward and flicked the tip of her pointed tongue at Heather’s clit. It was like an electric shock. Heather gasped and jerked involuntarily. The girl smiled. Again she touched Heather’s clit with the tip of her tongue. Again and again, for ten minutes she teased Heather in this way, each time bringing a cry from Heather and an attempt to push her open pussy toward the girl.

  Before Heather could cum, Mary Margaret rolled over on her back and slid under her. She began to lick and tongue Heather’s anal opening spreading her own legs so that both Heather and Mr. Satomi could see that she was wet and her clit swollen. Heather continued to jerk spasmodically with each jab of the hot little tongue into her hole. Her juices flowed. Her own clitoris seemed ready to burst. After another ten minutes, Mary Margaret once more kneeled before Heather and bowed in the Japanese fashion, a way of thanking her. She then turned to face Satomi and bowed her head to the floor before rising and hurrying behind the screens.

  The two rope masters returned. They left the ropes on Heather’s upper body as they were but lifted her so that she was suspended about five feet off the stage. They undid the bondage on her legs and then tied it again so that her calves were, as they had been, bound to her thighs but pulled backwards so that the heels of her feet touched her ass cheeks. She was, as she had been, spread wide. When they finished Heather’s eyes widened as two short men dressed as pigs ran from behind the screens making squeaking and grunting noises as pigs might. Each wore a pig’s mask. The noses of the masks looked like very long pig snouts. They were in fact fine vibrating dildos covered with a very thin vinyl.

  Still squealing they shoved their pig noses into Heather’s holes; her pussy and her anal opening. She cried out and came immediately. They didn’t stop. The pig snouts were soon covered with her juices. She orgasmed and again and again, crying out until she was only able to make a rasping noise. After fucking both her holes for an hour they stopped. Her head drooped. Saliva ran from the corners of her mouth. Pussy juice dripped from her cunt.

  A very tall thin older Japanese emerged from behind the screen. He was completely naked. His cock hung almost to his knees. Another rope swing was lowered slightly in front of Heather’s. He climbed into it and was lifted until he was able to straddle Heather’s face. He touched her lips with the tip of his flaccid cock. She opened her mouth and began to suck him. Gradually she could feel him begin to stiffen. Then the two pigs were back, fucking both her holes again. She continued to cum and suck for what seemed like hours. She became unaware of time. In the dim recesses of her mind she knew she wanted this. She lost herself completely. She could not think. She became what all the men who were going to bid on her intended her to be, an object. In this case she was a fuck and suck toy, bound in a rope swing, mindless except for the continuing orgasms and the cock that was fucking her mouth. She had no will to fight against it nor did she wish to.

  “This continued through most of the night. She was aware that the tall Japanese had cum in her mouth and that he had been replaced by Mary Margaret whose pussy and anus she licked for a long time. Then another Japanese, a boy this time. Then an older woman.

  Occasionally, she was given a few minutes to rest, then the pigs were back fucking her and someone new was in the swing.

  When, towards dawn, they let her down her face was spattered with cum, her hair matted with it. Her clitoris and labial lips were almost raw. Sometime during the night she had squirted. It had surprised the pigs who were fucking her with the dildos. A puddle had formed under her. The ropes had cut into her flesh leaving purple marks. She had drifted into some other state of consciousness. When Carmella and Madam Celia began to carry her out she was moaning, ‘more, more, please more’.

  She was permitted to sleep for several hours. For the first two hours she continued to whisper “more...more....more....please...more.” Gradually she quieted. Late in the morning they awakened her. She seemed to have only a vague recollection of the previous night. They assured her that Satomi was pleased. She soaked in a hot tub, then Carmella coated her rope burns with a healing salve before she ate and slept again until early evening.

  When she awoke she looked fearfully at Carmella who had stayed at her bedside. “Tonight it’s General Shuka,” she said. Carmella nodded. “Oh God, Carmella, he terrifies me.”

  Carmella nodded and said, “Yes, I hope and pray that a monster like Shuka is not able to buy you. That would break my heart. Maybe somehow General Cruiz...” she didn’t finish. She just shook her head sadly.

  Heather looked around the room, “What am I to wear?”

  “Nothing but this slave collar,” she held up a plain black leather collar with a D ring imbedded next to the buckle. “Shower now and I’ll rub you with the unscented oil and remove the polish on your fingers and toes. He said, ‘Send her to me wearing only lipstick and the collar. That’s all she will ever wear after I buy her.”

  Shuka’s quarters were nothing like the others. He sat in a plain room occupying a huge chair on a raised platform against the far wall. Above his head she noticed a screen of some sort. Before him was a wooden stool. Heather entered the room with her head bowed trying to avoid looking at the huge ugly black man. “Sit,” he ordered, “and look up.” He was blacker than any black person she’d ever seen. His robe was made of gold cloth and tied over his extended belly. His piercing black eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Without saying anything he pressed a remote he had in his hand. The screen brightened and then revealed the lovely room she and Namba had shared. The video went on for half an hour. There were scenes of she and Namba in the garden her uncle had constructed for them. Scenes of them holding hands, kissing. Scenes of her undressing before him. Close ups of his cock. Multiple scenes of them making love, of him taking her in the missionary position and some of him taking her from behind.

  When it ended tears streaked her cheeks. Shuka said, “Spread.” She parted her legs knowing he could see that she was wet. He smiled slightly, “When I first watched that tape I knew that I must have you. I planned to take you from your uncle’s compound but discovered you were no longer there. The Gods were good to me. They sent you here to
Cruiz who is required to hold this auction. All I had to do was wait until the auction and come here and outbid the others.” She bowed her head and said nothing. “Look up at me, bitch!” he shouted. She flinched and did as he ordered. He continued, “I will explain to you why I’m determined to purchase you and what your life will be like in Nigeria.” She nodded slightly.

  “Some years ago,” he began, “I came into possession of a baby gorilla. My men had killed its mother. I took a liking to it and named it Luther. It is now a full grown gorilla about your age. Luther has never seen another gorilla or member of the ape family except for your bonobo husband.”

  It began to become clear to Heather what Shuka intended, “Oh God, please no,” she said.

  As if he hadn’t heard her, Shuka went on, “Luther is intelligent, not as bright as your bonobo, but bright enough. He can make sounds we understand. When he’s fed his trainers always repeat ‘For you’ so that he knows exactly what those words mean. For the past months we’ve been running this closed loop tape in his cage,” he pointed to the screen. “Luther stares at it and masturbates. His caretakers keep saying, ‘For you’.” Shuka leaned forward, “Luther is expecting you. I will not disappoint him.”

  Heather brought her hands to her face and burst into tears. He let her sob for a few minutes before continuing. “I’m sure you’ve heard how Aleem and Rashid, and Satomi have developed intense training programs to transform their slaves into little girls, or ponies or objects.” Heather had stopped crying but kept her head bowed. “Satomi has the best program but mine is almost as good and it’s much shorter. It doesn’t differ much from the training your famous uncle developed so that you would give yourself to the bonobo. Before a month is up, you will be standing outside Luther’s cage offering yourself to him. You won’t be forced or coerced, or drugged. You will want to mate with him. You will want to be Luther’s mate. He will recognize you as his mate. I will point to you and say, ‘for you’ and he will know you are his. And, rest assured, this will be what you want.”