Heather Read online

  The next morning Lobo and Abila came to get her. When they opened the door the rats ran out and disappeared into the far corners of the basement. Heather sat in the far corner of the Doghouse, her legs pulled up against her chest. She stared at them unblinking seeming as if she couldn’t see them. Her lips moved but no sound came from her throat.” They noticed red marks on her legs and stomach and breasts where the rats had scratched or bitten her. Together Lobo and Abila pulled her into the basement. Lobe once more threw her over his shoulder and carried her back to her cell where he took off the restraints and pushed her back on the bed. She lay there quivering, still wide eyed, her lips moving soundlessly. Abila produced a hypodermic needle and, finding a vein in the girl’s arm, injected her. They watched as Heather’s eyes closed and she fell into a deep sleep. “She’ll be out for twelve hours,” Abila said. She and Lobo left and locked the door behind them.

  At eight o’clock that evening Abila returned just as Heather as awakening. The ugly dwarf placed a stool and sat next to the bed. Heather was slow to recognize where she was. She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked at the scratch marks on her breasts and stomach suddenly recalling the horror of the Doghouse. Seeing Abila she cringed and began to rasp, “Please, please, no more...no more.”

  “You gonna do what you’re told?”

  “Oh yes...yes...I will. I promise I will.” Her voice was so raw she spoke in a harsh whisper.

  “First we get you cleaned up then take you to see your master. You remember who your master is?”

  “It’s...it’s...my master is Colonel Ruiz, Master Ruiz.”

  Abila led her to the shower room. Heather stood in the hot shower for a very long time. It stung where the rats had scratched and bitten her but that didn’t matter. For the first time in what seemed like weeks, she felt clean. Abila then took her to the dressing room which was empty. Pointing to a locker with the number seven painted on the door, she said, “This is yours. I put the stuff your Master ordered for you in it. There’s pole costumes, tease costumes, dog collars and leashes, fuck me shoes, perfumed oil, and makeup. When you’re on doggie duty you don’t wear nothin’.” She selected a white floor length transparent gown that tied at the waist and a pair of white pumps with four inch heels. She handed Heather a container of perfumed oil. “Rub it on,” she said, “everywhere: toes, cunt, ass crack...everywhere.” She watched as Heather rubbed on the heavy scented oil. “Now, makeup,” Abila instructed, “mascara lots of it, lipstick very red and lots of it.” She handed Heather a little bottle. “Gloss for lips,” she said, “lots of it. Men like lips shiny and red, sometimes nipples and assholes too.”

  As Heather applied the makeup she remembered the mountain men, Willy and Sam and how they had required her to put on heavy makeup before they made her suck their cocks. She felt her nipples stiffen and a warm flow down to her crotch. She hadn’t felt like this since the time with Willy and Sam. She’d had these feelings, not quite as intense, on those nights when she lay awake anticipating her marriage to Namba. Of course, during the first days of her marriage making love to him was exciting but not the same as this. The dwarf finished the makeup and pulled a small box over to stand on while she brushed Heather’s hair until is shone. Finally, standing back to admire her work, she nodded with approval indicating that Heather should put on the gown and shoes. Because the gown tied only at the waist, Heather’s bare legs were visible as was the swell of her breasts. “Let’s hope your Master approves,” Abila said. She selected a black velvet collar from the locker and fastened it around Heather’s neck. Attaching a silver leash to the collar, she led the girl out of the dressing room and down several hallways until they were at the heavy oak door to Ruiz’s office. Heather felt her legs trembling and swallowed hard. Abila knocked once.

  “Yeah, come in.” Ruiz yelled.

  Abila pushed the door open and, letting go of the leash, stepped back. Hesitantly, Heather took three steps into the room and bowed her head.

  If Ruiz was surprised by her appearance, he didn’t show it. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I-I...my name’s Heather,” she whispered without looking up.

  “No!” he shouted startling her. “Your name is Bitch Seven. The only names you’ll answer to from now on are Bitch or Seven or Bitch Seven. You left that other name back at the compound with your crazy uncle and the fuckin’ ape you married.” He paused. She ventured to glance at him then lowered her eyes. He smiled. “Now, what’s your name?”

  “Bitch Seven.”

  “So, Bitch Seven, I understand you spent a little time in the Doghouse?” It was a question.

  Even the word caused her to tremble, “Yes...uh...yes, Master.”

  “How was it, Bitch Seven?”

  “Horrible...I never...I mean I-I...” she couldn’t finish.

  “Why were you sent to the Doghouse?”

  She looked up at him, “Because I-I...resisted. I didn’t want to...to...do...”

  He glared at her, “You thought because you are a white American college girl with a rich uncle you were better than us!” His voice rose, “You’re not! You’re just another bitch who needed a little training. Are you trained, Bitch?”

  She nodded quickly, “Yes...yes I’m trained.”

  “Trained for what?”

  It took her a moment to answer. She looked up again, “Trained to serve. Trained to do whatever I’m told by my masters to do.”

  “Just like a dog?”

  “Yes, Master, just like a dog.”

  “You dance on the stage for my men?”

  “Yes master.”

  “Make them hot. Make them want to fuck you?”

  “Yes, Master. I-I’ll try.”

  “You go on the line, the doggie line four hours every other day?”

  The image flashed into her mind of the women kneeling on the long bench, their necks secured to it with short chains, their ankles and wrists attached to a spreader bar, their three openings available to the filthy men standing behind or in front of them. She looked down at the rat scratches on her breasts. “Yes I’ll go on the doggie line,” she said.

  “Since you’re a young white American you’ll probably be fucked in the cunt, the ass, and the mouth every minute of your shift. You gonna like all them cocks in you, sometimes two or three at once?”

  “I-I don’t know, Master.”

  “But you’re going to act like you want their cocks, want them in all your holes, right?”

  “Yes, I’ll act as if I like it...as if I want it...want their cocks in me.”

  “And those nights when you’re on call you’re going to go to the bed of whatever man calls for you and your gonna do him good?’

  “I will.”

  He sat back and appraised her for several moments. She thought perhaps the interview was over. His eyes were hard and seemed to burn into her. She felt her cheeks redden and her nipples stiffen. He noticed. “Now, Bitch Seven, ask real nice if you can come over here and get on your knees and worship my cock with your hot American mouth.” She found it difficult to speak and bowed her head. “Say it,” he demanded.

  She felt the familiar warm flow down to her crotch and knew her cunt was wet. Her mouth had filled with saliva. She swallowed. “Please, Master Ruiz, please allow me to get on my knees before you and worship your...your cock with my mouth.”

  “Is your mouth hot? Are your lips soft and warm? Is Bitch Seven in heat?”

  Before answering him she crossed the room and knelt between his spread legs. Looking up at him she whispered, “My mouth is hot. My lips are soft and warm. Your Bitch Seven is in heat.”

  “Ask for it. Ask nice.”

  Tentatively she unbuckled his belt and zipped down his fly. Still looking up at him she licked her lips, “Please, Master Ruiz, please let me worship your cock. Please let me suck you.”

  “Swallow my cum?”

  “Yes, Master. I want it.” He nodded. She reached inside his pants. He wasn’t wearing shorts
. His long dark cock was hard and damp with sweat. The fetid smell almost made her gag. She held the base of his cock with one hand and cupped his balls with the other. As she leaned toward it, he put two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up.

  “Who is your Master?”

  “You are.”

  “You do what your Master tells you, yes?”

  “Yes, I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”

  “Why?”

  She hesitated wondering if she should tell him what she suspected he wanted to hear or tell him the truth. She decided on the truth. “If I don’t obey you I will be sent to the Doghouse.”

  He frowned, “So it’s fear that makes you obey?”

  “I-I...can’t pretend it’s not. But...but in time I may come to desire it...may come to wish to please you.”

  He nodded, “And want to belong to me completely, want to serve me in any way I wish, feel grateful when I let you suck my cock and drink my cum.”

  “Yes, Master. I think that’s how it will be.”

  “Kiss the tip. Kiss my piss hole before you suck. That’s the way to begin. A sign of respect. Press your parted lips to it and touch your tongue to my slit.”

  She paused thinking, ‘My God, I’m on my knees about to suck the cock of this vicious drug king, a sadistic murderer. I’ll go mad if I remain here. My uncle will gather mercenaries to rescue me. Or I’ll find a way to escape. Uncle’s compound is only about five miles to the North’.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for, Bitch?” He reached out and grabbed her hair. “Kiss it and suck me off!”

  She parted her lips slightly and pressed them against his cockhead. She ran the tip of her tongue along the slit of his piss hole, and then took the foul smelling cock into her mouth. Angrily, he pushed her head down its length. She gagged and choked as he held her there against his crotch. “You got to learn to suck it like you love it,” he hissed. When he let her go the tears streaked her face. He made her look up at him. “Lick my balls,” he said.

  She nodded, brushing away the tears. He pulled his cock back against his belly. She lowered her head to his huge testicles. The fetid odor was stronger.

  “Kiss them first,” he ordered. “Wet kisses, lots of them. Make love to my balls.”

  Cupping his dark balls in both hands she bent over them and kissed them as he’d instructed, covering one then the other with warm, wet kisses. In spite of the rancid odor, or perhaps because of it, she felt her own secretions ooze from her cunt.

  He tapped her head, “Now lick them, make them drip with your spit,” he said. With the flat of her tongue she laved his testicles. Her mouth filled with saliva. He looked down at her, “That’s right,” he said. “I like to see a rich American bitch licking my Mexican balls. Now, I want the rich American bitch to suck me off and swallow my Mexican cum.” He held his hard cock out to her. Obediently she slid her lips over it and before he could force her head down, she took all of it, burying her nose in his rank crotch hair. She moved her head up and down the length of this cock, making a tight seal with her lips, drawing in her cheeks. He tried to hold off, but after two minutes he spurted thick bitter tasting cum into her mouth. She swallowed and swallowed until she’d drained him. His long brown cock slid from her mouth. “Kiss it again,” he said.

  “You got to show respect before you suck me off and after. Also thank me for giving you my cum.”

  Heather once more lowered her head over his cock and lifted it to her lips. She parted them and pressed them against his cockhead and touched his piss hole with the tip of her tongue. Still gently holding his cock, she looked up at him. “Thank you, Master, for permitting me to suck you and for giving me your cum.”

  He nodded. “You did all right. Did you suck that ape’s cock?”

  “Yes...yes I did.” The thought of Namba brought tears to her eyes.

  “You liked suckin’ my cock better, right?”

  She knew what he wanted to hear, “Yes, I liked sucking your cock better.”

  “Anyone who would marry herself to a fuckin’ ape must be crazy,” he said. She didn’t respond. “If he’s such a big strong husband why the fuck didn’t he come down here and try to take you back?”

  She looked down for a moment, then up at him, “It’s hard to explain. He believes everyone is good. He simply couldn’t understand that someone would force me to...leave.” She paused. “I’m sure he thinks that he was somehow inadequate and I left him.”

  “A fuckin’ wimp ape,” Ruiz sneered.

  Heather, tucking his cock back in his pants and zipping up his fly shook her head, “No that’s not it. He is just too gentle for this world.”

  Ruiz rolled his chair back so that he sat at his desk and waved a hand at her indicating she was to return to her seat opposite the desk. “Spread your legs. I want to see your cunt,” he said. She obeyed. “It’s wet. That must mean suckin’ me off gets you hot?”

  She bowed her head, “Yes, it does.

  “My new bitch is in heat?”

  “I am.”

  “Good. Won’t be long till you learn to like it here. You get fed ok, have a bed, clothes, other bitches to hang out with, and you get fucked a lot, a whole lot plus you get to suck a whole lot of cocks. Now, that ain’t too bad, is it?”

  She looked up at him, “No. Maybe in time it will be as you say. After awhile I may learn to like it here.”

  He nodded smiling, “Now the dwarf will take you back to the dressing room. You do what she tells you.” He looked at his watch. “You and three other bitches got the pole dancing duty tonight and the raffle.” He pressed a button on his desk. In a moment the door to his office swung open. The dwarf stood there waiting. He gestured toward her, “OK, Bitch Seven, go with Abila. You know what happens to bitches who don’t obey?”

  “Yes, Master, I know.”

  Abila led her back to the dressing room. “You suck him off?”

  Heather felt the color rise to her cheeks. “Yes.”

  “He say you got to do what I tell you?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  They arrived at the dressing room. Abila opened Heather’s locker, then turned to look at her. “How good do you dance?” she asked.

  “I took a few ballet classes in college.”

  The dwarf chuckled, “I ain’t talkin’ about fuckin’ ballet. I mean shake your ass and tits, tease the boys with your cunt. I’m talkin’ about pole dancin’. You know what that is?”

  “I saw it once. My boyfriend took me.”

  “Can you do it? Pole dance I mean. Make the guys want to fuck you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you better learn fast. You got to tease them. Make them yell and clap. You got to make them want to win the raffle.”

  “Raffle?” she asked.

  “The pole shift lasts four hours, every night from eight till midnight. There’s four bitches take turns dancin’ for the drug runners and anyone else the Colonel gives passes to. Sometimes buyers show up. Each guy gets a ticket with a number. At the end of the night four numbers are picked from a little barrel. The guys with the winning numbers get to choose which of the bitches they want. The bitch goes with the guy who wins her. She goes to his room and stays as long as he wants her to. She does what he wants her to: suck his cock, fuck him, let him fuck her ass, whatever.”

  Heather felt the tears well up, “I-I...don’t think...” she began.

  “You’re not supposed to think,” Abila interrupted. “You’re supposed to dance and make the guys hot and then go to bed with the one who wins you. I think that’s a fuckin’ lot better than another night in the Doghouse, don’t you?”

  Just the mention of the Doghouse sent a clutch of fear through Heather’s body. She nodded quickly, “Yes...yes Abila I’ll do it...dance and...and...go with one of the men.”

  Abila stood back looking at the young girl, “I think you can wear what you got on. The gown is easy to get out of and the white fuck me shoes look ok. Fix your makeup.
”

  Heather sat at the makeup table and reapplied her lipstick, gloss, and mascara. To dance and strip before these drunken, drugged cretins, was abominable, but to return to the rats in the Doghouse was unthinkable. She’d do what she had to do and plan an escape.

  As if Abila read her thoughts, the ugly dwarf touched Heather’s collar. “It’s thick,” she said, “and the lock is impossible to break. Inside there is a chip that can tell us exactly where you are day or night. There’s a room with monitors so each bitch is always being tracked. Even if you managed to get outside the gate, you’d be brought back here in minutes and spend two days and nights in the Doghouse. It would take a week for you to recover from what the rats would do to you.”

  Heather felt as if a cold hand had squeezed her heart. Escape was no longer a remote option. Surely her uncle would hire mercenaries to rescue her or pay the cartel to release her. Perhaps she could persuade Ruiz to let her go. She felt the only way she could survive in this Hell hole, was to hold onto those possibilities.

  A tall black girl, naked except for her stilettos, and glistening with sweat rushed into the room, “I been dancin’ my ass off. Where’s the new bitch?”

  Abila pointed to Heather. “She’s right here, Shankra.”

  The black girl stood in front of Heather who was still sitting on the makeup bench. Roughly she placed both hands on the back of Heather’s head and forcefully pulled her forward until her face was pressed against the dark sweating crotch. “Smell it, bitch,” Shankra demanded, holding Heather tightly against her. “Because you’re late, you gonna eat it when your shift is over.” She shoved Heather away and, grabbing a nylon robe from her locker, slammed out of the room.

  Abila took Heather by the arm and led her down the hall. They could hear men shouting. “Them drunks are probably ready to bust up the room.” She opened a door that led to the back of the stage. Over the speakers came loud music with a heavy Brazilian beat, mostly drums, guitars and trumpets.