Slaver's Bait: The Taking of Cheryl (21 page)

After more silence, Nora moaned, the Turk’s gentle stroking of her moist slit was starting to revive her passion. She pushed off of him. “Turk, we’ve got a big day ahead. Let’s get some sleep.”

“If things go bad….” Turk began to say.

Nora interrupted, “If things go bad, I’ll take care of Tamara and the old man.” She gently ran her hand through his jet black hair. “And I’ll miss you, Tarðk Temizan.” It was the first time he had heard his name from anyone’s lips for many years.

“Thank you, Nora,” he said.

* * *

Justine had been meanly used that night. She could not recall the last time that Stoner had beat her so severely or used her flesh so roughly. Her breasts were still sore from his abuse of them and she bore red stripes all down her ass and thighs. Jeremiah led her back to the woman’s dormitory and ordered all the women to be washed and presentable in 45 minutes. The three women looked at each other when Jeremiah had left. Cheryl wondered what was going to happen. Justine had the answer. “There’s going to be a selection,” she said.

She had been through many selections, had seen many women hauled from the dormitory, gagged and bound, their destination the Discipline Room where Stoner would have one last fling with them. They would then be thrown to the soldiers for their use for several days. And then a helicopter trip to the capital.

The three women looked at each other nervously. If Justine was right, one of them would be gone within the hour. They hugged and kissed one another. Mary started to cry. “It’s going to be me, I just know it,” she sobbed.

“We’re not sure it’s going to be anybody yet,” Cheryl answered. “Maybe Justine is wrong.”

“Let’s just say that I hope I am wrong,” Justine said.

The women all made sure they were washed and their faces made up to look pretty. Cheryl helped Mary by applying dark rouge to the tips of her breasts. She kissed them when she was done. Mary thanked her.

At about a quarter after ten, Jeremiah came back to the room. He was carrying several leather thongs and three gags. Mary started to cry.

“All turn around,” was all that Jeremiah said. The three women dutifully turned their backs to the major domo and crossed their wrists behind them. Jeremiah quickly and deftly bound their wrists. “Turn around,” he said again. One by one, he inserted the heavy, leather ball gags into their mouths and affixed the strap behind their heads. There would be no begging or pleading when Stoner made his choice.

“Kneel. Legs wide apart,” Jeremiah ordered. All the women slowly fell to their knees and spread their thighs. Jeremiah turned to leave. “No moving!” he ordered as he went through the door.

Denise had slept fitfully. She was hungry and cramped. Her pussy was still sore from yesterday’s abuse. During the night, Jeremiah brought her some water in a plastic bottle. At least she thought it was the night, there being no windows in the Discipline Room, it was impossible to tell. He put a tray under the cage and ordered her to pee. Before he left, he tied her hands together outside of the cage, a steel bar between them.

When Jeremiah came in, he kicked down wheels that set on each corner of the cage and started to roll her out of the room. When he got to the door he stopped. He opened the door to the cage and ordered Denise to open her mouth. She complied meekly. He thrust in a large leather ball. Then he placed a black bag over her head.

The cage was then rolled to an elevator and taken to the second floor. Jeremiah waited outside the dormitory door for Stoner to arrive. He was due back from his morning inspections about 11 o’clock. At 11:05, Stoner came trudging up the stairs. He was wearing his khaki shorts and a matching shirt. He had on heavy, steel-toed boots. He had Dalila in tow. He tied her leash off on the balustrade next to the stairs. He paused to look at the appealing flesh of his soon-to-be new wife. He had a short riding crop in his hand and he used it to poke Denise in the breast. “Have I got a surprise for you,” he said to her menacingly. Denise tensed with fear. She had had quite a surprise last night.

The door opened and the cage was wheeled in. If the women needed any corroboration of their fears, this was it. They saw the nubile body of a young woman in the cage, a young white woman who bore the marks of a whip. Justine knew that the odds were against her. She had survived too many selections. But then, maybe she could survive one more. Stoner had used her last night and she had given him great pleasure. “Perhaps,” she thought, “that means he still wants me.”

Mary was frightened too. It seemed to her that Stoner’s attention had been focused on his other two wives lately. Maybe he had gotten bored with her large tits. That’s all she seemed to be to him, a set of big fat tits. He always abused them mercilessly whenever he used her for the night.

But Cheryl was the most frightened of all. She recalled the President’s promise to her. She knew that he meant it. She hated Stoner with all of her heart, but she had real reason to fear being sent to the capital now. She had only been the President’s plaything for one night. She could not imagine what a month with him would be like. And her pussy, he was going to sew it up! Cheryl was so nervous that her bladder began to leak. She held it back with all her might.

Stoner followed Jeremiah and the cage into the room. All the women’s eyes were on him. “Good morning, ladies,” he said cheerfully. “I’m sorry to say that it’s going to be goodbye for one of you.” He stepped near the visibly shaken women. He ran his riding crop over Justine’s breasts. She arched her back to make them more prominent. “Good Justine,” he continued. “I had fun with you last night. You still have the best mouth of all. And you moan so nicely when you’re whipped.”

The heavy, square shouldered man stepped up to Mary. “Oh, Mary, I have enjoyed your beautiful tits. But they do look a little saggy lately. Maybe we should get you down to the capital while they’re still nice and ripe.” Mary’s eyes brimmed with tears. She had heard Cheryl’s story about the President and his threats. If that was what the place was like, what would they do to her?

He stepped over to Cheryl. He was careful not to use her name. “And you?” he said prodding her with the riding crop. “I understand that the President is waiting for you. He’s called me twice, asking when am I going to tire of you. It would make him very happy if I sent you down. And I do need to keep him happy these days.” He ran the riding crop between Cheryl’s legs and pushed at the entrance to her vagina. “But you do fuck so well.” He turned so that all three women were in his vision and he could see all of their eyes glued to his. He took a deep breath, prolonging their anxiety. He nodded to Jeremiah. The tall brown man walked directly to Justine, grabbed her arm and stood her up.

Justine’s eyes reflected her resignation. It had happened at last. She was sorry to go, but was glad that the waiting was over. Whatever awaited her there, at least it was the beginning of the end. She did not know what precise travails she would face at Stoner’s whorehouse. She too had listened to Cheryl. She knew what bitter end awaited her eventually, that the life of an African whore would be short. But for her, now, it could not be short enough.

Jeremiah hustled the slender, slight blond woman from the room. She would be delivered to the Discipline Room, where she would face Stoner’s goodbye torment.

The remaining two women looked at Stoner expectantly. They were relieved that it was not them who was sent away, but were sad to see their lover and friend gone to such a fate. Someday, they knew, it would be them.

Stoner opened the door to the cage. He released Denise’s hands from the bars and prodded her with the riding crop. “Out! Out!” he yelled.

Denise crawled as best she could out of the cage. She had heard the strange proceedings and wondered what it meant for her. That there were other women here was a relief. She would have company. But would she remain gagged and bound, a helpless, voiceless beast? She prayed that she would not.

Stoner ordered Denise to kneel. He went over to the other women and released their gags and the bindings around their wrists. “I want you to welcome your new sister,” Stoner said. Come over and kiss her breasts.”

Mary and Cheryl slid over to the new girl on their knees. They each took a turn kissing a breast. “No, not a little kiss,” Stoner told them. “A real kiss, make her feel welcome.”

Mary and Cheryl knelt next to Denise, on either side of her and pressed their lips against her pale brown nipples. Denise felt the gentle sucking of their lips, the swirling of their tongues. Hands were circling them, while other hands rested on her thighs. She could feel the heat of their naked bodies and the sweet smell of their perfume.

“Mary,” Stoner said, “tickle her twat. Make her feel at home.”

Mary delved her hand between Denise’s thighs. The entrance to her womb was already moist and it was an easy thing to do to separate the outer lips and press her fingers in. Denise moaned at the pleasurable invasion of her body. This Sapphic welcome was most disconcerting to her. She had expected another beating, a ‘surprise’. Was this it?

While Mary caressed Denise’s moist slit, Cheryl ran her hand over her thigh and belly. Both women’s mouths worked eagerly on Denise’s teats. Denise’s hands were free and they groped to feel the bodies of the women who were driving her to orgasm. Stoner was enjoying the demonstration. He would get his cock sucked before he left, but from which one? He prodded Mary with the riding crop. “Get behind her and have her lean back on you. You can play with her tits while she,” poking Cheryl, “licks her cunt.”

Mary got behind Denise and pulled her back onto her lap. Cheryl pulled Denise’s legs out from under her and spread them. She ran her hands over the taut, graceful thighs and lowered her head to Denise’s loins. Denise felt the gentle but firm hands of Mary caress her breasts. Her head was lying nestled on Mary’s generous bosom. She felt the tongue of the other woman gently trace a line up between her engorged and dilated nether lips. She moaned as she felt the tongue play delicately with her hardened clit. The tongue was more invasive now, delving into her tender canal. She could feel its movements within her and the hot lips of its owner pressed against her cunt. Hot hands caressed the tender insides of her thighs, the same place where Stoner had cruelly whipped her the night before.

The lips found her tender clit once again and sucked at it, first gently and then with determined force. The stranger’s tongue lapped up and down her slit, running her fevered lust high. Denise’s thighs began to quake, her hips to rock. Her breath was coming heavy. She felt her blood rising, rising, rising, and then her orgasm burst upon her. Her moans were muffled by the leather ball in her mouth, but were still audible as she measured each throb of her pussy with a little cry. Stoner watched and heard the young woman orgasm and decided that he’d seen enough. It was time for the surprise he had promised Denise. He wouldn’t have missed this for the world. To Mary he said, “Lift the hood.”

Mary removed the black bag from Denise’s head. Her face was flushed, her mouth distended by the ball. Stoner prodded Cheryl, who was still lapping at the copious discharge from her sister’s cunt. “Kiss your new sister, slut!” he ordered.

Cheryl raised her head and pursed her lips in obedience to Stoner’s harsh command. When she looked up, she saw something that she thought she would never see again in her life. It was the face of her sister Denise. First joy and then terrible sorrow flowed through her. The joy was seeing a happy connection to her past, proof that she had once been free, a person with family and friends, a job, an apartment. The source of her sorrow was obvious. She would not wish the ill fate of being Stoner’s sexual slave on anyone, but particularly not on someone that she loved. What cruel fate had brought her here?

Stoner slapped her rear with the riding crop. He was seated in a wicker chair, overlooking the proceedings. Cheryl gasped when struck. A red line appeared across her buttock. Still, she hesitated. It was too bizarre to be true. Yet, it was unmistakably her.

Denise stared back at her sister, her lost sister. How long had she been a prisoner in this hell? What had the cruel man and his henchman forced her to do, to endure? She started to cry.

Stoner sent another blow from the crop across Cheryl’s ass. “I told you to kiss her!” he reminded her sternly. Cheryl moved quickly to obey her tormentor’s command. She leaned over, still kneeling between her sister’s legs and pressed her lips to hers. She ran her hand along her face. “Denise,” she said, “how did this happen?”

Stoner struck Cheryl again, harder this time, drawing a cry of pain from her. “I didn’t tell you to talk to her!” he yelled. “I told you to kiss her. Now take that leather out of her mouth and kiss her right. I want to see your tongue down her throat!”

Cheryl reached into her sister’s mouth and plucked out the crude gag that had been placed there. She put her hands on either side of Denise’s head and whispered lowly, “I’m sorry.” She placed her mouth on Denise’s and gently parted her sister’s lips with her tongue.

Denise was seized by a surge of love for her sibling. She had thought Cheryl lost forever. She placed her hand on top of Cheryl’s and welcomed her into her mouth. Their breasts were pressed together and they could feel the heat from each other’s bodies. Denise was still in the afterglow of her orgasm, and the tender, loving caresses from Cheryl’s tongue caused her blood to rise. Her mind told her that this was wrong, but her heart told her that it was right.

Cheryl, too, felt incipient lust at the contact between them. Her nipples had hardened and she felt her pussy moistening. And then the reality of her sister’s plight struck home. She was a slave. One day she would take the helicopter trip to the capital. She would be subject to the terrible and evil whims of their captor. Grief overwhelmed her. She broke their kiss and hugged her, sobbing, “Denise, oh Denise, Oh I’m so sorry.”

Stoner was enjoying the little show. He stood and landed several sharp blows of the crop to Cheryl’s back. “Get up, cunt!” he yelled. “All of you on your knees! Now!”