Chapter Five
The cell they put her in was small, maybe four feet by eight. It had cinderblock walls, a bare cement floor, and the ceiling looked like solid rock. The door was made of steel bars, and it was securely locked. As tired as she felt after her ordeal on the examination table, Giancarla felt even more hungry and thirsty. She knelt on the thin pad of woven reeds that was all that stood between her bare flesh and the chill of the floor and looked at the two bowls that they’d put in the cell with her. They were aluminum bowls, obviously meant for feeding pets. One was full of water. The other held a mix of what might be cooked and crumbled hamburger, chopped hard-boiled egg and bits of green that she hoped were just string beans.
They had tied her hands behind her. It was obvious that they meant for her to eat and drink from the bowls like an animal. At least they weren’t watching… at the moment. There was a whole row of cells along the wall of the cave here. She’d gotten a look into some of them as they’d brought her here. Each of the other five cells held another woman, naked and bound as she was. They all looked oriental, except for one who had dusky skin.
Hunger and thirst overcame her at last. Giancarla bent over her water bowl and tried to drink, ignoring the fact that her hair got into the water. It wasn’t easy, but at least she managed to quench her thirst for the moment. Licking her lips for the last drop of liquid, she turned to her food bowl and began to eat.
The food was bland, but she was too hungry to care. She began gobbling it greedily. The bits of meat felt and tasted something like hamburger. The green bits had no taste to them at all. She had eaten almost everything and was licking the bowl for the last remnant of the food when she heard a man chuckling. She froze, and then slowly lifted her head to look. He was standing just outside of her cell, his arms folded, looking down at her. He was dressed as if he was going on safari: Khaki shorts, khaki shirt with lots of buttoned pockets, boots and a bush hat. He was deeply tanned, as if he spent most of his time outdoors, and his face was a predator’s… so were his eyes. Giancarla began edging back away from him on her knees. He seemed to find that amusing.
“You’re the American,” he laughed. “The Doc had a lot to say about you, so I had to come and see for myself. Stand up, bitch, so I can get a look at you.”
He spoke with an accent that she couldn’t quite place, but his voice was commanding. Without realizing it at first, Giancarla slowly rose to her feet, her eyes transfixed by his gaze. He had blue eyes: Pale, cold blue eyes that sent a chill through her. She stood in her cell and trembled as his eyes roamed all over her naked body.
“The Doc wasn’t lyin’,” the man said finally. “You’ve got a lot of nice curves. But you’re not standin’ right. Move your feet apart.”
Still trembling, Giancarla obeyed.
“You just got here, so you wouldn’t know yet,” he grinned at her. “You’ll learn with trainin’.” He unlocked the door to her cage and swung it open. Giancarla immediately shrank back against the far wall, as cold as it felt on her bare skin. The man stepped into her cage and pulled the door shut behind him. It clanged noisily, making her jump.
“I’m your trainer,” he said, still smiling as he slowly came closer to her. “You will call me ‘sir’.
Got that?
” The last two words were a menacing bellow that made Giancarla jump again.
“Y-y-yes, sir,” she stammered.
“Good,” he nodded. “Now, come here, bitch.”
Giancarla edged towards him, wishing that she could somehow melt into the wall instead. He seemed even more menacing than Boris had, but she was more afraid of the consequences of
not
obeying him than she was of anything he might do once she was within his reach. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and well-muscled and the closer she got to him the smaller and more helpless she felt. She stopped very close to him.
“You’re an American,” he said as his hand came up to play with her nipples. “But they tell me you were also a countess. That right?”
“Yes, sir,” Giancarla replied. She kept looking down at his boots. This close she didn’t think she’d be able to meet his gaze.
“Married some rich European, eh?” he chuckled nastily. “Tell me, bitch,” he went on as his other hand came up to cup a breast, “What did you do to get your husband to rid himself of such a great piece of ass as you?”
When Giancarla couldn’t bring herself to answer, he pinched her nipples hard.
“Well?” he asked in a frighteningly mild voice as Giancarla winced and tried not to pull away. “Answer me, bitch!”
“I… had a lover…” she whimpered.
“Ah. Was he any good?”
Again, Giancarla hesitated. His grip on her nipples intensified until she screamed.
“Yes!” she wailed. “Yes, he was good!”
“So, he fucked you. Did you suck his big, hard cock, bitch?”
“No!” Giancarla keened. The pain was unbearable. “No, I didn’t!”
“Did he ever fuck you up the ass?”
“No! Never!”
He let go of her nipples, and Giancarla sobbed.
“All those holes and you only let him use one?” the man sounded as if he didn’t believe her. “Seems like a right waste to me. No matter. I’ll get to use all of them.”
Giancarla shuddered. She had no doubt that he meant what he said.
“What’s your name, bitch?”
“G-Giancarla,” she replied. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She tried to blink them back. She’d been clinging to the desperate hope that all this was some elaborate scheme of Nicholas’ to punish and humiliate her before he took her back, but it was all too apparent that that wasn’t the case. She was indeed in some hellhole. She didn’t want to think about what they would do to her here.
“Giancarla,” the man said, rolling the name around in his mouth. “Well, it’s a proper name for a countess, but you ain’t a countess any more, are you? You need a shorter name. I’ll call you ‘Gia’ when I don’t call you ‘bitch’. Got that, Gia?”
“Yes, sir,” Giancarla sobbed. She felt very close to breaking down now. Any minute she’d dissolve into tears and cries and pointless begging for mercy. She didn’t know where she was, but she had a feeling that it was far, far away from her home.
Before that could happen, though, the man suddenly grabbed her with both hands around her neck and forced her down onto the reed mat. Panic replaced tears as she felt his weight holding her down, crushing her. She kicked and squirmed under him until she ran out of breath and had to stop. Once she stopped, he raised himself off of her.
“Get yer bleedin’ arse up, bitch,” he yelled. A hard slap on her ass accompanied the order. Giancarla, panting and gasping, obeyed. She braced herself for hard, brutal rape. Instead, she felt his finger touching her pussy lips.
“What’s this, bitch?” he demanded.
“My... my pussy, sir,” she answered.
“Wrong!” he yelled, slapping her ass again. “You say: ‘It is
your
pussy, sir.’ Now, try it again.”
“It’s your pussy, sir,” Giancarla whimpered.
“And this?” his finger moved only a little and tapped gently at her anus.
“It’s m… It’s your asshole, sir.” Giancarla squeezed her eyes shut tight.
“That’s right,” he said, slapping her ass again. “Now, what’s
this
?” His finger slid deftly between her pussy lips and touched her clitoris.
Giancarla shuddered violently. “It’s your clit, sir,” she answered in a tiny voice.
“You learn fast,” he said. He thrust a second finger into her and started massaging. “The Doc told me you get wet fast, too. You’d better, for your own sake.”
Giancarla held as still as she could while he probed and stimulated her. She couldn’t help whimpering and trembling, but he didn’t seem to mind that. She suspected that he actually enjoyed it. In spite of her curdling fear, Giancarla felt herself growing wetter under his skillful manipulations, as if her pussy had a will of its own.
“That’s enough,” her trainer said. She didn’t even have time to brace herself before he rammed his cock into her, hard enough to make her slide along the rough reed mat on the side of her face for a little way. He took a grip on her hips and started pounding her, hard and fast and mercilessly. With each thrust his loins slammed into her upturned ass, driving the air out of her in breathy grunts. All she could do was take it, and he gave it to her in spades. She didn’t enjoy any part of it. Her pussy was still a little sore on the inside from the doctor’s examination, and very sore on the outside from the wax treatment that had ripped it hairless. She hoped desperately that he would be done soon.
He wasn’t. He just kept going on and on, using her like a captive animal and occasionally slapping her ass hard with one hand or another. On one of the few occasions that she dared to open her eyes, Giancarla saw other men, dark-skinned and grinning, standing just outside of her cage, watching her humiliation. Finally, she could endure no more in silence. She began to cry and wail in utter misery as her attacker just kept fucking her, like he was a machine. It just seemed to go on and on.
Then he pulled out of her and slapped her ass again, hard enough to make her shriek. He grabbed a fistful of her long, dark hair and hauled her up on her knees, making her turn so that she was in profile to the men standing at the door. She saw his cock, big and red and glistening wetly, inches from her nose and she tried to pull back from it. That only earned her a tremendous slap across her face, hard enough to stun her. Her head rang, and her vision blurred. The next thing she knew, he’d shoved his cock into her mouth and began thrusting. Still dazed, she had no strength to stop him, even when he seemed to fill her throat so that she couldn’t breathe.
Then he came. Giancarla coughed and gagged. Semen and saliva dribbled out of the corners of her mouth to mix with the tears coursing down her cheeks. He held her still until he had emptied himself, groaning. Then he pulled out with a satisfied sigh. Giancarla coughed and gasped and wheezed for air, her mouth sagging open. She could hear the men outside laughing uproariously and for the first time dreaded what might happen once her ‘trainer’ left.
“What is this?” her trainer demanded. Giancarla had to struggle to focus to see where his finger was pointing.
“It’s…” she gasped and coughed again. “It’s your mouth, sir,” she managed to say.
“Too bloody right,” he nodded cheerfully. Giancarla flinched as she thought he was going to slap her again, but all he did was pat her cheek. “Your body is mine, to do whatever I want with. You’re a slave now, little Gia, and I’m going to train you to give pleasure. You’ve got a gorgeous body, but you don’t know how to use it properly yet. I’m going to teach you. Would you like that, you faithless little bitch?”
“Yes…” Giancarla had a coughing fit. The salty taste of his come seemed to be burning the back of her throat. She recovered herself with an effort. “Yes, sir,” she said, looking up at him fearfully.
“Do you really mean that, Gia?” he smiled down at her.
“Yes…” It came out as a heartbroken sob. She didn’t really mean it, but she dreaded what would follow if she told him the truth.
“It don’t matter what you’d like or not like any more, bitch,” he snarled. Then he slapped her. “That’s for lying to me. And because you lied to me, I’m going to let these other men use you like the slut you are.”
“No!” Giancarla wailed. “Please, no, sir! I’ll do whatever you want!”
“I want you to let these men fuck you,” her trainer smiled nastily. He let go of her hair, shoving her over onto her back as if that was a signal, the men outside came swarming in to the cage, laughing and chattering. Giancarla tried to move away from them, but in an instant their hands were all over her, holding her down, prying her legs apart, and mauling her breasts with their hands and their mouths. She looked up at her ‘trainer’ for help and realized that she wasn’t going to get any. He was just standing by the doorway, leaning against the wall, his arms folded and a nasty smile on his mouth. She felt fingers being thrust up into her pussy and screamed. That just seemed to strike her gang of assailants as funny. They laughed and continued their assault. She tried to fight, but she was too weak, and anyway there were three of them. Panic struck her. She screamed again and again and then one of the dark-skinned men mounted her while the other two held her down. His leering face was inches from hers, and his breath smelled of tobacco and liquor. Giancarla screamed again as she felt his cock sliding into her. His companions seized her ankles and spread her legs wider for him. He started fucking her, vigorously, grinning like a maniac.
She was still a little wet from before, but not wet enough, and it hurt. She wanted to throw him off of her, but all she could do was scream up at the ceiling or try to relax so that it didn’t hurt so much. Screaming hadn’t helped at all, so Giancarla tried relaxing, laying limp and unresponsive as she was fucked, her eyes closed. She couldn’t help whimpering and moaning – in pain, not in arousal – as her body was brutally used.
It was over quickly. Her attacker spasmed and groaned and spasmed and groaned and then lay still on top of her while his companions cheered. Then he was off of her, taking hold of her ankle as the next man took his turn. Once again, Giancarla smelled tobacco and liquor. This man’s body felt heavier, and unpleasantly greasy. He also took longer than the first man to come, and he laid on top of her for longer afterwards, until it sounded like the third man started to complain. Then his weight was gone, to be replaced by another weight and another invading cock.
A little while later, the three men were done with her. They filed out of the little cell, laughing and chattering happily. Giancarla didn’t recognize a word they said. She didn’t care. She curled up in a sobbing ball of misery on the rough reed mat.
“Now you understand the penalty for lying to me,” her trainer said as the cell door clanged shut. “I’ll leave you alone for a little while to think about that.”
A little while? Giancarla lay on the mat, coughing and sniffling and trying to fight an urge to vomit. After a little while her pain settled down to a dull ache and she realized how exhausted she felt. She was just starting to drift off to a fitful sleep when a woman’s scream from somewhere nearby brought her as fully awake as if she’d been doused with ice water. Another scream and she scrabbled back against the cold wall of her cell, shaking uncontrollably. She could hear men’s voices, gabbling in that unfamiliar language, and another man’s voice, deep and almost guttural, barking out… what? Commands? Taunts? Threats? She thought that he was speaking Japanese, but only because he sounded a lot like the characters in some old Japanese movies she had watched with Nicholas. She couldn’t make out any words, though. From the woman’s screams and wails she could easily imagine what they were doing to her, and she shuddered. The urge to vomit returned, and she fought it back desperately. Even so, her stomach churned and heaved, and she could taste her own bile.