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Cow's Gap Year, Part 2: A Bangkok Sex Slave

A Cow's Gap Year series story
Heavy, f+, Real Life, Bondage, Masochism, Non-Consensual

In the next few days cow settled into a simple routine. She woke up early, helped get the simple breakfast ready, cleared away afterwards. She wasn't allowed to hang around during the day - he said it would be bad for Pita, whatever that meant. She returned on schedule at five and fucked the guests, those who wanted it - which was most of them, though not every day. There were others, too, not just the guests, so she and Pita were both kept busy until they started to prepare dinner a couple of hours later. Some wanted two girls and one guy, some wanted two guys and one girl. Anything was available for a price, including the group of six Germans who wanted a gang bang, or the guy who wanted to kiss cow's feet while Pita sucked him. There were several cheap, well-worn costumes available, for an extra charge - French maid, black vinyl, schoolgirl. True to his word, the owner took all the money he charged, but let cow keep half her tips. Pita kept nothing - she was truly a slave.

Once they'd made and served dinner, there were those who preferred their sex at bedtime. Sometimes the two of them put on a show, cheap for guests but there were always a few outsiders who paid more. And finally they had to clean up. They were rarely in bed before midnight, and always up at 6.

On about the fourth night, Pita stumbled as she was clearing the table. She was wearing the French maid outfit that night, and the shoes were much too big for her. She dropped a pile of plates, breaking some of them. The owner was furious. Once the guests had left he screamed at her, calling her useless, a clumsy slut, and lots of other things. He slapped her across the face, hard, half a dozen times, until she was sobbing. He turned to cow and said, "She must to be punished. 50 baht in the market to replace those. She doesn't have money, she can't pay. So one stroke of the cane for each baht. That'll teach you, you lazy bitch, won't it?"

Pita cowered, crouched against the wall. She pleaded in a mixture of Thai and broken English, "please, I'm sorry, please, no cane me..." He kicked at her leg, knocking her over, as he turned to cow. "I just can't fucking be bothered. You punish her. After breakfast tomorrow. You give 50 strokes of cane. Good exercise, and stop you being good friends, eh?" He laughed at the idea.

And so, after breakfast, he held poor Pita down over the table, after giving cow a thick, heavy cane. "You cane hard, OK? You hurt her, a lot. She must be punished. You take it easy, I see, punish her more, you too." Pita was sobbing, begging for mercy, her legs thrashing around. "Go, start, tart - punish her."

cow had no choice. She'd caned people before, but it was always play, never really punishment. She made the first stroke. Pita screamed, and the owner yelled. "Harder. Make her bruise, make her scream." After the first few strokes he still wasn't satisfied. He grabbed the cane from her and gave a single vicious stroke. Pita really screamed now, as blood oozed from the white line across her dark flesh. He gave another three like that, then he grabbed cow by the neck and pushed her down. He gave her five strokes and she screamed too.

"Get it now? I want fifty like that. You try harder." cow gave her the fifty strokes. At the end she was sobbing, while Pita was quiet, her body heaving, her arms and legs flailing with each stroke, but too weak now to scream. Blood had spattered everywhere, it was dribbling down her thighs. cow's arm ached, too. Finally it was over. cow bent down and started linking the blood from Pita's poor bruised flesh. But he wasn't waiting for that. "Get up, bitch, and clean up your mess" he yelled, and made her clean up her own blood even though she could barely stand. She staggered around, leaning on the furniture for support, sobbing. She turned to cow and said, "I hate you. You hurt me. You bad girl. You not my friend. I hate you."

cow burst into tears - a very rare event. She was already jealous of Pita's beating, all wet at the memory of the few painful strokes she had received herself and at the thought of being bruised and bloody like Pita. And now the nearest person she had to a friend hated her, and with good reason too. Despite the owner's angry presence, she dropped to her knees in front of Pita, pressing her face into her pussy, clutching her bloody bottom with her hands, and wept. "I'm sorry Pita, I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you. You're my best friend." Pita soon relented, and knelt down herself to give cow a big kiss. The owner hit cow on the back of the head, hard, and then Pita, yelling at both of them, but for a few moments they ignored him.

That evening Pita served dinner in the schoolgirl outfit, stumbling around on her still-shaking legs, and cow had to whore for both of them. Not that she minded. At bedtime, when the two of them were left alone, cow knelt before her and apologised. "Please let me sleep with you tonight," she said. But Pita was suddenly scared. "No, you no sleep with me, he beat me again. I sleep alone. Else he hurt me."

But cow persisted, as always, and finally got Pita to agree to show her her room. She hadn't thought about it before, she supposed she had another room like her own. So she was shocked when Pita led her out the back of the kitchen, to a tiny store-room just barely big enough to lay down. The bare earth floor was mostly taken up with a filthy piece of thin foam, not even covered. In one corner there was a stinking plastic tub that served as a toilet. A heavy chain hung from a hook on the wall, an open padlock on its end. Higher up on the wall, rickety shelves carried bags of rice and other supplies for the kitchen.

Pita explained, in a low, frightened voice, that this was where she slept. When she went to bed she had to lock the chain to her collar. There was no chance of escape or leaving until the owner released her first thing in the morning. If he got drunk and overslept - as happened sometimes - she was there until he woke up, when he would beat her because breakfast hadn't been made. She didn't seem to mind very much - when cow asked, she said she'd known a lot worse. Some of the customers liked to fuck her in there, even.

cow was damp at the idea of being locked up in here, maybe for days, wallowing in her own filth, fucked in the dark by men she couldn't even see, savagely beaten if she even thought about trying to escape. Without asking she lay down on the mattress, the rough foam scratching her back, her nose full of its smell of stale piss, her legs wide open, her finger on her clit. "Pita, find something big and fuck me hard," she pleaded. The girl returned from the kitchen with a bottle and pushed it into her. As she started to come, Pita sat hard on her face, silencing her. "Please, no noise," she said. So her tongue went to work as well as her finger, and it was Pita who had trouble staying silent. Then she hugged Pita tight under the one thin, dirty blanket, caressing her poor bruised bottom, feeling the bumps and bruises left by the beating she had administered herself, until finally Pita told her she had to leave.

She barely slept that night, thinking about Pita sleeping every night in her dungeon. She felt sorry for the poor girl, yet also terribly jealous. In the middle of the night she got up and wandered silently about the place, naked and barefoot, hearing the snores of the guests. She wasn't worried about being caught - it had already happened that the guests would bang on her door in the middle of the night, drunk, demanding her services, so she had an excuse. She thought about her precious passport, tucked away in the desk. But the door to the scruffy office was held shut by a cheap padlock. She visited the filthy toilet, and there she just couldn't resist. She got down on her belly, her bottom in the air, and licked at the sticky, revolting mess on the floor. The cruel master existed only in her imagination, whipping her, fucking her painfully with something huge, forcing her to slurp at the ancient tiles until they were clean. She squatted and covered the dirt in her own piss, then licked up the disgusting mixture, her fingers deep inside herself.

She would sometimes spend part of the night in the toilet. When a guest got up in the middle of the night she'd surprise him, taking him into her mouth and giving an illicit free blowjob. Once he was soft and relaxed, she'd ask him to piss into her mouth. Most agreed. Then she'd return to her bed, satisfied and with an agreeably full belly.

Pushing the Limits

A couple of weeks passed. cow was getting bored with the steady rhythm. Her customers were, for the most part, very nice with her. They made conversation, telling her about the places they'd been - which she noted carefully for later on. They told her about their homes, sometimes even about their girlfriends. They asked her to do things they thought kinky or odd - anal sex, worshipping her body, having her rim them, spanking her or being spanked. To her this was just boringly routine, though she enjoyed it. A few were rough, they took her hard, ordered her around, maybe slapped her a bit. The drunks - and there were plenty - were sometimes rough with her too, in a drunken way, but they had no finesse, no cruelty. Sometimes local men would pay to use her, they spoke no English and they were rough with her too, treating her like they treated their own women. That was enjoyable, in a predictable sort of way.

She was bored too with having to find things to do every day. It was fun amusing herself with rich tourists, but having to be back at five sharp every day limited what she could do with them. And more than ever she craved pain, humiliation, bruises and blood. Her feelings for poor Pita were a complete mess - she felt so sorry for her, enslaved, penniless, never leaving the hovel of a hotel. Yet she was terribly jealous too, she wanted to be the one who was chained up at night in a stinking store room, beaten for every tiny mistake.

One afternoon she returned ten minutes late. She'd passed a very enjoyable afternoon with a rich American who had been completely entranced by her waif-like style. He'd wanted to fuck her just one more time, and it took a while. She didn't really think a few minutes would matter.

But the owner was furious. As soon as she walked in he grabbed her by the throat and pressed her against a wall, then slapped her face hard. "What your excuse, eh? You fucking some tourist, forget time? You no forget again, tart." He pushed her roughly over the table and spanked her hard with his bare hand, each slap resonating round the room. She squealed in pain, and squealed again when after a couple of dozen strokes he rammed his fist inside her, thrusting it in and out. He pulled it out, covered in cum. When he realised that he twisted her round and made her lick it clean.

"There, you no be late again, eh? Insides hurt now, good for fucking later."

cow walked around doing her evening duties, getting things ready for dinner, fucking a couple of the guests, in a daze. It was so good, her bruised cunt hurting with every step, her bottom stinging. If only she could be treated like that all the time! She spent half the night awake, rubbing herself sore as she imagined terrible punishments, much worse than just a caning and a brutal fisting - red-hot branding irons on her flesh, hooks inside her cunt.


Action was required. A few days later she deliberately returned half an hour late. She hadn't been doing anything very interesting, she was just sitting in an alley across the street. She even heard the owner yelling about her. Then, at five-thirty, she ran in, saying "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I forgot the time." He was furious. Once more he grabbed her by the throat and pressed her against a wall. "You sorry? Sorry? You lose me twenty dollars and you just sorry? I make you sorry!" He slapped her face hard, several times, until her cheeks were bleeding inside. "Pita make dinner, you go to room and fuck, make money. I punish you later."

She worked all through the dinner time, guys coming in still chewing as they fucked her. She got a few tips but later the owner came by and took all the money. "You bad girl, no tip for you," he said. Once they were finished with her he half-dragged her downstairs and threw her into the kitchen. Pita was sitting on the floor. None of the clean-up had been done - the communal table was still covered in dirty dishes. "Poor Pita have to work double tonight. Now you clean up. Pita, she relax. Eh Pita?" he smirked at her. "Pita keep eye on you, make sure you no slack. Then Pita punish you for being bad girl."

cow went to work, fetching dishes, washing them, washing all the pots and pans, cleaning the kitchen. She was tired, her cunt was sore. She paused, leaning over the sunk. Straight away Pita called out, "She slack, she lazy!" The owner quickly appeared, pushing her against the wall. He punched her hard in the stomach, and she doubled over but he grabbed her throat and pushed her against the wall again. With his other hand he took a nipple ring, twisting and tugging it until a drop of blood appeared, making her cry out in pain despite her complete absence of breath. "Lazy bitch, lazy tart. You need learn what work is. Pita knows what work is, eh? Pita punish you now, you finish later."

He gagged her with a filthy cloth, stinking of damp and mildew and dirty dishes - he didn't want her to disturb the guests. He pushed her down over the dining table, tying her wrists to the legs at one end, her ankles at the other end, immobilising her splayed across the table. He sent Pita for a thin cane. Ten strokes fell on her taut buttocks, then more on her thighs, then on her bottom again.

"Pita, fetch cunt cane," he ordered. Pita whimpered, and returned with a thin cane. "Can't mark tart's ass too bad, customers not happy. So we mark where nobody look, too busy fucking." He laughed. "Pita, just thirty strokes this time, we be mercy, eh?"

The first stroke cut through like a knife blade. She'd been caned many times, but nobody had ever had the sadistically ingenious idea of caning her directly in her slit. After a few strokes Pita reached down and opened up her swollen lips, getting in a couple of strokes directly onto her most tender parts before they closed again. She screamed in agony, but there was no noise thanks to the filthy cloth. She lost count of the strokes, lost track of everything except the repetitive terrible strokes of the cane. Her violent struggles against her bonds rocked the heavy table around on the floor, tearing at the skin on her wrists and ankles. Her head flailed around, banging so hard on the wood that it hurt for days afterwards. But still Pita dared show no mercy.

Finally the strokes stopped, and gradually the intensity of her agony receded. He tugged the filthy cloth from her mouth, letting her sob. "Say sorry." Between sobs she gasped, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." And right at that very moment she was. She wanted so much to sooth the pain with her fingers, maybe even give herself a little experimental rub to see how bad it was, but her wrists were still tightly bound. Just as she was getting her breath back, she screamed in sudden pain, once and the again.

"Customers don't mind just one little stroke on tart's tits, maybe." Each breast bore a thin red line, but before she could recover from that he tugged at her nipple rings, twisting them through a full circle, and slipped the cane through both of them, holding them like it. He tugged experimentally at the cane, stretching her nipples until it seemed that surely the rings would pull out of the flesh - but they didn't. As she whimpered in pain he said, "I knew those rings come in handy!".

She finished her chores like that, staggering round with the cane twisting her nipple rings, her cunt burning from the beating she'd received. When the owner had gone to bed and they could hear him snoring, Pita laid cow down on her own bed, in the smelly storage room, and kissed her. "I sorry, I sorry, he make me do it," she said, over and over. cow rubbed her swollen cunt, making it hurt even more, holding Pita's mouth to her bleeding nipples and then to her clit as she came, fighting the urge to scream. When she finally went to her room she barely slept, reliving her beating as she rubbed herself. The guest who got a free fuck during the night, when she slipped surreptitiously from her room as he got up to pee, must have been surprised at the intensity of her orgasm as he lazily thrust into her. He had no idea how much it was hurting her or how much that was turning her on.


She dreamed of her beating for days, relishing the pain when she was fucked. But eventually the bruises and the pain faded, leaving nothing but memories. She really did try to be good, but to no avail. And so a couple of weeks later, she again returned late one day. This time the owner didn't wait. He laid into her himself with the cane, beating her until she bled, her screams muffled with a filthy rag. As she lay trembling and sobbing her fucked her with a beer can until blood ran down her thighs.

That evening Pita served dinner and serviced the guests on her own. cow couldn't even stand, which infuriated the owner even more.

"Lazy cunt bitch, spend all day fucking then useless for me. I punish you proper now. No more out fucking all day, you stay here, help Pita. No more nice room neither. You useless cunt, you live like Pita now. And no run away, I got passport, you my bitch now."

He half-dragged her to a tiny storage room, even smaller than Pita's. The floor was just bare earth, about four feet square. As he left she heard him close a padlock. The rough wooden walls had no window, just a glimmer of light from around the door. Heaven! Her cunt hurt terribly, even more than her bleeding bottom. Her fingers went to her clit, her other hand inside her teasing the bruised and bleeding flesh. Just as she came the door burst open again.

"You stop playing with yourself, bitch! Enough of that. No more."

He was carrying an old rusty chain. Roughly, he fastened it tight around her wrists, behind her back, then looped it tight around her neck, fastening it with several padlocks. Finally he locked the end of the chain to a heavy ring screwed into the wall near the floor.

"This my punishment cell. First white girl, just Thai girls before. Before Pita, I sell them all. Good price to sadists. Maybe same for you?"

She spent the night in chains in the punishment cell, sitting on the floor, unable to stretch out or to stand. The worst part was there was absolutely nothing she could do to reach her clit. She dozed fitfully through the night, her clit and her nipples tingling with excitement each time she awoke. She really did try to stay clean, but sometime around daybreak she couldn't hold it any longer. For an hour she sat in a stinking puddle of her own piss and shit, more aroused than ever.

She heard the click of the padlock, then the owner burst in, dragging Pita. He beat her then released her and sent her off to start the day's work.

She had never spent the daytime at the hostel, but now she worked naked alongside Pita, cleaning the rooms and tidying the place up. Even for one person that wasn't a full day's work, but they were kept busy by a string of local men. Many of them were in uniform, police or military. cow and Pita fucked and sucked them. They rarely lasted more than 10 minutes. It kept them busy, but it wasn't very interesting.

She spent four nights locked up in the punishment cell, beaten every night and every morning, chained in the puddle of her own filth. She loved it. But the owner was too lazy to keep it up. Soon he moved her in with Pita. They shared the tiny, filthy foam mattress and the toilet bucket. And each other. Finally there was nothing to stop them driving each other crazy with their tongues, lips and fingers. Pita was young but there was absolutely nothing she hadn't done, or more exactly that hadn't been done to her. Afterwards, as they dozed in each other's arms, Pita told cow the sorry story of her life.

Pita's Life

She was born in a remote hill village in northern Thailand, with little contact with the outside world. People mainly ate what they grew. Her mother died when she was still very small, and her father disappeared soon after, a victim of some drug feud. The children were distributed among various uncles and aunts. Parents barely had enough to feed their own families, never mind an unwanted addition. During her whole childhood she never had enough to eat. She was dressed in cast-off rags, and used as a slave in the fields. People took care of their own children, but nobody cared what happened to Pita. She was abused in every way imaginable. Sometimes it got her sweets or food, which made it worthwhile.

She was still young when she was bundled up into a truck along with a dozen other village girls. Girls like her were one of the village's few cash crops. After several days she found herself in a "gentlemen's club" in Bangkok. Her life there was much better than in the village. She had plenty to eat, nice clothes to wear, other girls to talk to when business was quiet. The constant sex was nothing new to her. She was traded several times - each place had its own speciality. It didn't make much difference, the mama-san were businesswomen and it was in their own interest to have happy girls working for them.

That all changed when her current brothel owner upset a gang boss. He was beaten to death, and his girls were taken away to much nastier places. Pita ended up in one that catered to sadists. She was still fed and looked after when she wasn't working, but her life was an endless misery of beatings, spankings, burnings - anything to give them pleasure as they fucked her, or tortured her while other girls took care of them. It lasted for a couple of years before that place in turn got into trouble with the bosses.

For a while she lived on the street, making a meagre living turning tricks with migrant workers and salvaging food from the garbage. She was rescued and got to sleep indoors, in a dormitory, and for the first time she could ever remember nobody fucked her or beat her. Once the novelty wore off, she was bored. It wasn't hard to get another job doing what she knew best, and she drifted between different bars and clubs for a while.

She wasn't sure herself about how she ended up working in the hostel. One day the owner showed up, dragged her out, and installed her there. She could easily enough run away - she has no clothes but she could steal a shirt from one of the guests. But what would be the point? She's already too old for the better clubs and bars - though she's not exactly sure of her age, maybe early 20s. She'd end up in a suburban brothel, servicing working men for a pittance.

She'll probably be dead well before she is 30, if not from disease then from violence or malnutrition. Her story reduced cow to tears, but there was nothing to be done - it was typical of tens of thousands of girls like her.

A Special Visitor

After a few weeks of this new lifestyle, cow was getting bored. The owner was often drunk and taking less and less interest in his girls, even her attempts to provoke him rarely gained her more than a slapped bottom. Then one day he mentioned a special client to them. Pita started crying and begging, explaining to cow that he was a bad man, he liked to hurt girls. He'd been away for a while but now that he was back, he'd surely be a regular again. She was dreading it, she still had scars from his earlier visits. She couldn't stop sobbing in fearful anticipation.

His visit was the next day. cow had selflessly volunteered to serve him. He tied her up over a table and beat her with a thin cane until she screamed. He had two men with him, who mouth-fucked her while she was being beaten then took it in turns to fuck Pita. cow lay sobbing in pain until suddenly she let out a terrible scream. He had burned inside her cunt lips with a cigarette. Then he rammed himself into her, thrusting until quickly he came.

It was over quickly, the whole visit lasted less than an hour. cow would have taken a lot worse and a lot more, but at least she could feel the traces of the beating on her sore bottom. She caressed the burn inside her cunt, her clit tingling until Pita took pity on her and brought her to a screaming orgasm.

"You so brave, you take all that, I hate it, it makes me hurt. You so brave," she said over and over as they kissed.

He returned every few days. The routine was the same, a beating of some kind, maybe something a little bit extra. It was only a fraction of what she'd experienced back in England, but it was better than just being fucked over and over again.

Moving On

Even with their new visitor, life in the hostel was getting dull. It was time to think about her next move. She had already retrieved her passport, one day when the owner was snoring drunkenly in his office, and she had helped herself to some cash as well, all safely stashed away.

It was obvious that things weren't going well. Every few days some uniformed officials would show up and there would be an argument that she didn't understand, in a mixture of Thai and broken English. The owner would calm them down with free access to his girls and some cash, but it got worse every time. Afterwards he would get drunk. The place had never been up to much, but it was getting worse and customers were leaving in disgust despite cow and Pita's efforts to keep them satisfied.

One day several military cars and trucks pulled up outside. This did not look good at all. cow didn't wait to find out what was about to happen. She retrieved her passport and cash, grabbed a shirt that was drying, and climbed over the wall at the back. From the other side of the road she watched the owner struggling as he was bundled out into one of the trucks, followed by Pita. She felt terrible for Pita, but this was a local matter, she knew Thailand well enough to be sure there was nothing she could do.

She headed straight for the bus station, pausing on the way to buy herself a long tee-shirt, some flip-flops and a quick bowl of noodles, with a very enjoyable fuck afterwards.

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