{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"69f6819a-9594-4dfc-9142-1a45d60d5450","seriesId":"80f257e3-89e7-44e5-bfb3-34d6c8e31b10","seriesName":"Recruiting Victoria","currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2019-01-16T19:56:57.618Z","title":"Recruiting Victoria: Part 2 Training The Girl","slug":"recruiting-victoria-part-2-training-the-girl","shortId":"3XiA8sAd","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"929a7454-2efc-4c1c-a673-9219225036a0","title":null,"summary":"\n\n \n\n \n\nBOOK TWO—TRAINING THE GIRL\n\n \n\nDay\nFive: Training Begins\n\n \n\nYou must gi","wordCount":85661,"readTime":429,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"\n\n

\n\n

BOOK TWO—TRAINING THE GIRL

\n\n

Day\nFive: Training Begins

\n\n

You must give everything\nto make your life as beautiful as the dreams that dance in your imagination.

\n\n

-Roman Payne

\n\n

Oh, the sweetness of\ngiving in, of full surrender.

\n\n

-Sebastian Faulks, Engleby

\n\n

The smells hit me first when I woke up. The salty air, the mold and mildew. A bitter taste staining my mouth. I was alone. \nIt took me some time to come to grips with what had happened, to realize\nthat the taste was left over from whatever drug I’d been given. I had never before been drugged, nor had I\never awakened after an evening of drugs, so I don’t know why the thought\nimmediately jumped in to my head. But it\ndid.

\n\n

I was sore. I slowly sat up\nin bed, overcome with aches and pains. \nMy short term memory was fleeting and confused, but I’d sort that out\nlater. I immediately recognized that I\nalready felt…..depressed. Like a weight\nrested on my chest. I vaguely remembered\none of the men releasing my wrist from the head of the bed, but that was just a\nlittle while ago.

\n\n

I knew it must be before 6 or they would have been in to awaken\nme. He’d left me wearing the lingerie from the night before. It was uncomfortably scratchy and all\nscrunched up around my chest. So instead\nof continuing to lie in bed I got up and undressed, leaving on only my slave\ncollar. I stopped and looked at myself\nin the mirror—looked awful. My shoulders\nstill ached. I was only nineteen, but I felt\nstiff and old. I moved awkwardly, like\nan old woman, since the uncomfortable thing in my rear was causing me problems\nthis morning and my legs felt weak. More,\nI was really sore from having been twice worked over so thoroughly by Bossman last night.

\n\n

I hadn’t slept well last night and I was exhausted. He’d left our bed just past midnight and\nI…..why had I referred to this as our bed? I closed my eyes and let another wave of\nhumiliation wash over me. I was awake, still\nbound to the bed by one wrist as he left. \nI’d felt so helpless, suffering through yet another wave of panic and\nhorror at my plight.

\n\n

Throughout the remainder of the endless night my mood had been like\na pendulum, oscillating between worrying about my predicament---trying to\nunderstand myself and what a weak, evil woman I was---to being forced into some\nawful unknown as I was handed off to a strange man, and finally, to mortal terror\nand fear for my life. My physical\nreaction at the same time had been no less extreme, alternating between impatiently\nthrowing the covering sheet away as I was covered in hot perspiration and shivering\nin cold sweat as I lay hunched under that same sheet. I did this until I was so drained by the fatigue\ncaused by him and by what I had\nendured so far that I finally fell into an exhausted slumber.

\n\n

Even after all this mental effort, I still didn’t understand what\nhappened last night. I didn’t understand\nwhy I had suddenly been so willing to accept his control, so willing to submit to\ngiving him…..me. I felt my face get hot\nas shame burned me once more at the thought. \nThere was no tidal wave of emotion, but rather a slow rising flood of\nremorse and sorrow. The kind that\ndrowned you by inches. I shook my head, refused\nto think any more about what I—wouldn’t think about. The sheer wantonness displayed last night had\nnot been the real me. It couldn’t be, I\nknew this had to be true.

\n\n

I had tried to escape, to hide my embarrassment in the blackness\nof early morning sleep. But with the\nrecurring stimulants of fear and shame, along with the forbidding life I had\nbeen told was ahead of me, slumber was impossible. At the same time, going through my mind as if\nin an endless loop of tape was the idea that perhaps if I just tried to be a little more cooperative with him, a\nlittle more receptive, would that have help? \nPerhaps the others wouldn’t hurt me so badly anymore?

\n\n

As I laid in bed, I tried to answer the question I asked of myself,\nif I was only pretending, how could it\nhurt if I were to just play at going along with these men a little?

\n\n

I tried to convince myself the answer to the question above was, it couldn’t. But I couldn’t. The inner pendulum of my awareness had\ncontinued swinging from rational thought towards the chillingly irrational\npunctuated with mindless dread and now it swayed back towards prudence\nagain. I drifted along accompanied by my\nthoughts, never really asleep. I\ndesperately needed to, but paranoia continued to hit like a sledgehammer; sleep\nwould leave me entirely at their mercy once more and I must not allow that.

\n\n

Lying bound to my bed last night, I tried to visualize the\nactivity following the realization I’d been kidnapped. A single hope surfaced for the hundredth time. I would\nbe missed at some point, hopefully early enough to begin a good search locally.

\n\n

My friends would have look for me eventually, and with no luck at\nthe hotel they would surely have been worried. \nI was sure they would personally go knocking on doors of the clubs we\nhad visited after a certain point. With\nno luck, their concern would have deepened. \nAt what point would they have suspected kidnapping, if they even\npermitted themselves to consider such a possibility? Maybe that first night? Probably not, but surely the second, please…. But then, they wouldn’t want to act too soon because\nit would cause me such embarrassment when I eventually showed up\nbecause nothing was wrong.

\n\n

Still, as they ran into more dead ends and as\nthe time for the departure of our flight approached and my ticket had to be\ncancelled, they would have had to face the long-shot probability that something\nseriously wrong had happened. Sooner or\nlater, I hoped sooner, they would have reported my absence to the police,\nprobably within forty-eight hours, certainly within seventy-two hours.

\n\n

I had been vanished, like someone had cut a slit\nin the world and taken me through it into another one.

\n\n

How long had it taken them to notify my\nparents?

\n\n

Oh God, I’d been held by these men for over five\ndays now and the police may have only been looking for me for only the last two!

\n\n

I hadn’t slept well last night after he departed my bed---I’d finally cried myself\nto sleep as I vacillated between every emotion known to woman. I think it was Dog Nose who had released me from my bonds earlier and\nI was in a grim, unattractive mood now. I\nwas their captive; I knew I had no choice but to cooperate with these men. Yet, strangely, at times I almost felt an obscene desire to give in willingly, but I\nfound myself immediately fighting this bizarre feeling. I would never willingly give up my freedom.

\n\n

I’d been attracted to boys before, had battled this crazy,\nunsettling urge before. It had been\nrelatively easy, they never lasted for over a few seconds. Still, even more than the physical, I resisted\ngiving the men on this boat any access\nto the “inner me” that a couple of them seemed to pursue just as much as the others\nwanted me in other ways. This was so\nmuch more important than what they did to my body.

\n\n

These monsters could take whatever they wanted, but I felt a\ncertain grim satisfaction at the thought I’d never let them think I enjoyed\nwhat they did to me. I had to suffer\nthrough it, but I would die before I gave them that satisfaction.

\n\n

Filled with grim resolve, I walked over to the mirror above the\ndresser and looked at myself. I know I looked\nawful; I know that according to Bossman\nand Dog Nose I had to forever get rid of the stern, gloomy expression which now\nseemed to have habitually found a home on my face. Under these circumstances, while on this\nboat, nothing would be harder than making my face seem to show emotions I did\nnot feel.

\n\n

I looked in the mirror again and ran my finger under the soft leather\nand played with my collar, knowing this symbol supposedly represented a new\nbeginning for me, a major turning point in my life. One thing I felt for sure, if I went through\nwith this, there would be no turning back. \nHe would not allow it.

\n\n

I thought about what had happened to me so far and of what I was afraid\nwas about to happen to me. The unknown\nfrightened me but at the same time I felt a sense of determination to see this\nwhole thing through. If my family was\nthreatened, I had no other choice.

\n\n

Stupid girl! I just shook\nmy head at my continuing naiveté. The\nfeeling of honorable surrender to protect one’s loved ones had no place\nhere. This was no novel or movie plot,\nthis was real life.

\n\n

I’d wanted to die after the third day and had no desire to find\nout what other ingenious, awful machines remained they had not yet used on me. If I had not given in, the thought of what\nthey might have felt driven to do frightened me. What levels of “inducement” were acceptable just\nto physically break me?

\n\n

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had emphasized to myself the word\n“physically” because I knew without any doubt these men would never have my\nsoul!

\n\n

Or, I wondered\nidly, was this the last the act of a stupidly naïve young girl throwing away\ncaution as she accepted a challenge she knew she could never win? Shocked, I realized I might now be questioning\nmy actions, my motives! Had this been\npart of his plan all along?

\n\n

At the same time, I felt so confused now. I knew I should despise them, for they were\nanimals. It was insane, but at other times\nover the last day or so I’d found myself increasingly\ngiving in to some of this. It would be\nso easy to make all the rest of the belligerence go away and just give them what\nthey wanted…..

\n\n

My mind wasn’t working very well. \nI kept thinking the same things over and over again. Random thoughts, never in any particularly\norder.

\n\n

I had said things and acted a certain way which led to their\nincreased expectations.

\n\n

But if I went back on what they saw as “my word to” them, if they\nfelt I had “played” them yesterday, had lied to them in order to get a day of rest,\nthey’d never stop.

\n\n

Yet, if I cooperated in this as they wished, my freedom would be\ngone forever.

\n\n

I felt this great sense of loss---my family was safe, but no\nmatter what I did, I just knew somehow they’d never let me go now. They had nothing to lose by continually\nupping the level of pain/punishment/torture until they’d won for good---or I\ndied. There could be only one “winner” on\nthis boat, there was no in-between.

\n\n

Incredibly, and this was\nwhat scared me so, there had actually\nbeen those rare, fleetingly short moments when I had almost wanted to just---accept;\nto let myself go and drown in the pain. The\ndesire to just go with the pain had become so increasingly seductive…..

\n\n

At one point when I had been lowered on that thing, that awful\nthing that had hurt me so much between my legs, the desire to cooperate with\nthem, to let go of everything that I had ever been taught, to let go of everything\nI thought I believed in just to see where it took me had been almost\noverpowering.

\n\n

Those fleeting\nmoments were the times when the pain had been so exquisite that the line\nbetween pain and pleasure had been erased to the point of almost non-existence.

\n\n

It had taken me awhile to be able to even articulate this\nthought. But when I was finally able to\nadmit that this flawed possibility existed within me, it scared me to death.

\n\n

With my final surrender the day before to their awful machines and\nthen again to him last night, I knew I\nhad started down a road which never ended. \nI was now in danger of completely throwing away my freedom and my\nhumanity, of discarding everything I’d ever been taught or had believed in.

\n\n

Yet, unsurprisingly perhaps, given my willing participation, the\nthought of what I done with him last\nnight laid surprisingly heavy upon me. I\nstill didn’t quite know what had happened on this bed last night. I was a quiet person by nature, not particularly\nexhibitionistic, almost always in control of myself and of my emotions. As silly and as old-fashioned as it sounds, my\nteenage years had been spotless, without any rumors of hidden controversy. A boring white teenage girl, I had been\nraised to always be careful and act like a lady—whatever that meant anymore…..at least I knew what my parents meant by that,\nand it had been drilled into me by my mother for as long as I could remember.

\n\n

While I’d had my moments of stupid teenage behavior--my actions on\nthe Cancun beach that last night proved that--I had never been one of those girls\nyou’d ever see on one of those old College\nGirls Gone Wild tape. But by the end\nof last night, I had totally lost total control of myself, of my body. I had almost been a virgin before this and the\nuncontrolled and wanton sex of last night had been so unlike me……I knew I’d wonder\nabout this for the rest of my life.

\n\n

So, what had happened\nlast night?

\n\n

I think I was discovering\nthat it is easy to be proper and make what everyone tells you are the correct\ndecisions when the dangers and the pleasures of the outside world are kept away.\n I knew I had always been protected; but\nnow I realized just how unsophisticated I was about other people and how much\nof the world really worked. I’d had an\nunrealistic, almost child-like view of how the world worked when first brought\nonto this boat from hell, but these men had rapidly removed that.

\n\n

I just wanted to wake up and have this whole experience turn out\nto just be a nightmare. God, how I just\nwanted to go home and hug my parents again. \nInstead, I hugged myself and fought back tears.

\n\n

To be perfectly honest though, always in the back of my mind, at least that’s what I thought that’s I wanted…..

\n\n

Is it better to win over\nthe hearts and minds of the people, or imprison them and torture them into\ntelling you they love you?

\n\n

-Jarod Kintz, in Seriously\ndelirious, but not at all serious

\n\n

Bossman had awoken early\nhimself. He sat on the deck now drinking\na dark, strong coffee and thinking about the women he’d taken over the years. In his experience, for most females creating\na pleasure slave out of an ordinary woman was a fairly predictable process. Some took to the training and fit in well rather\nquickly while some shattered into a million pieces like a badly fired clay\nvessel dropped to the floor. It wasn’t\nrocket science, and in the end, they all succumbed in one way or another.

\n\n

But every now and then a woman came along who presented a more\ncomplex or unusual set of challenges. \nThey might be particularly strong-willed or perhaps have a strong set of\ncore beliefs that were diametrically opposed to what he might be trying to\nprogram, or they might even just be not very smart.

\n\n

M would be an interesting challenge. In addition to that which she was inclined by\nher nature, many of her conservative beliefs and a short lifetime habits were\nthe result of her parents training---they’d originally programmed her in a\ncertain way and Bossman knew\nthis.

\n\n

He also knew when he began reprogramming her behavior, she would\nsee him and his crew’s actions as a threat, not only because she knew what they\nintended to do with her but, and this was\nimportant, because if they were successful it would mean that she would be\nforced to change her core values and the way she viewed herself in some major\nways.

\n\n

It was odd, but he’d proved it to himself time after time; the women\nhe trained and sold would more easily accept what their new future held for\nthem than they would change certain beliefs or values they held about\nthemselves. In other words, for some odd\nreason of the mind, it was easier for them to accept the inevitability of being\na sex slave than it was for them to admit they might enjoy it.

\n\n

Purely for practical purposes, he wanted M to value him, to need\nhim, to see him as chief among her captors, but not as one of the major\nthreats. He didn’t do this because he\nwanted her to like him or because he gave a damn about her feelings as a poor\nmistreated middle-class girl. But\nrather, he wanted her to see him as something like an anchor, one of the few\nmainstays available she could grab to help maintain her sanity. Because this would help him later as he forced\nher to make some dramatic changes in her values and attitudes.

\n\n

He’d taken his pleasure from her body three times now. He knew he’d been ‘a little rough’ the first two times, he smiled at the euphemism\neven as his actions concerned him regarding his overall success. But the third time…aaah; the third time had\nbeen different. He’d taken her that time\nbecause he’d been weak and lost control. \nIt wouldn’t happen like that again. \nHe rarely lost control where women were concerned. He knew he’d now have to somehow put some psychological\ndistance between them, somehow put himself outside the process of training she\nwas experiencing.

\n\n

To do this, he knew he had to give her his undivided attention in\nan oasis of calm she would soon look forward to entering. But he could not be seen in a way that would\nbe seen as sexually or even just physically threatening. Like a spider and its web, he now controlled\nher fate, but in an indirect manner. He’d\nsit and listen to her talk, listen to her catalogue the unfairness of what was\nbeing done to her. He had to appear\nsympathetic to her and understanding, yet at the same time be able to subtly\nsabotage her attempts to heal the psychological and emotional damage his men\ninflicted upon her.

\n\n

This was an inexperienced teenage girl. Like any normal person, he knew she would\nrationalize her actions, fooling herself into believing she had broken and\nfinally acquiesced to their demands because of their threats to her and her\nfamily. But if she was like the others, at\nsome point she would finally realize, she would finally be able admit to\nherself that it was in fact the senseless torture and pain she had really wanted\nto avoid.

\n\n

Altruism and selflessness only takes a torture victim so far.

\n\n

The human body develops a memory\nof the pain it has endured. Every man on\nthe boat knew this desire to avoid future pain and torment was only human, but this\ngirl’s ultimate recognition of what had truly motivated her to quit fighting\nthem would be psychologically devastating. \nFor it would take away the inner strength she gained from seeing herself\nas self-sacrificing---it would negate her assessment of her motives, of\nacquiescing to his crew’s demands as an act of love for her family.

\n\n

He would do his best to push her quickly to this realization,\nsince it would take away every emotional support she had built over the last\ntwo days. This in turn would hasten her\ndescent into a maelstrom of depression and, in the end, ensure her complete subjugation.

\n\n

With his intimate understanding of this mysterious procedure, he\nhad in the past always made the necessary time and gradually, like flowers laid\nat his feet, all of the other women he’d escorted through this process had opened\nup and eventually he’d owned them body and soul. It was a seemingly impossible contradiction,\nbut he’d worked it before with the others and he was confident that he would\nsoon own M too

\n\n

The bottom line was that if through his manipulations of her mind he\ncould make enough major modifications in her beliefs about sex and sexuality\npermanent, she would be an excellent piece of property. If he failed, she’d be passed on through the\npipeline as flawed meat.

\n\n

They obviously thought I was beautiful, but they would also find I\nhad intelligence as well as looks. I\nknew it was in my nature to be both pragmatic and objective, and if I was naïve,\nit was because I’d perhaps been just a little more protected than other kids my\nage. Despite our differences though, I\nknew my parents loved me and I wouldn’t apologize to anyone for that.

\n\n

Although I was still shamed from last night, I felt less regret\nnow at having been broken by the men on the boat---anyone would have shattered under that pressure---and I took\ncomfort in the fact that my desire to keep my family safe was the final factor,\nthe only factor that made me to cooperate with these men, with Bossman. \nIt was the only stable thing in my life at the moment and the one fact\nwhich trumped all other considerations.

\n\n

But, for some\nreason I also knew in the back of my mind that my decision to cooperate with\nthem, so effortless and casually and so painlessly made that it was almost ‘odd’;\nit made me uneasy since it’d been an almost effortless way out of my predicament. I really didn’t want to think about it. There was a….incipient….empathy for the\nsituation, in me for what I done, and….I really did not want to think about\nit.

\n\n

I’d held out as long as I could physically, but I knew what Bossman and his crew had promised to do\nto my family if I tried in any way now to double cross him or play word games… I was fully prepared to go through with my\nend of the deal.

\n\n

In addition to the shame I felt at my inability to keep on\nfighting though, I now was afraid---afraid of what they would do to change me today\nand tomorrow, afraid of what they had planned for me.

\n\n

I\nknew I was changing, that I was being\nchanged by what they were doing to me. \nIt felt like I was developing a bizarre rapport with the mirror above\nthe dresser. Whenever the opportunity\narose, I found myself gazing into the glass just to see who would be\nthere.

\n\n

Sometimes\nthis reflection looked like me. At other\ntimes, I could see someone similar but somehow different—it was the person they\nwere changing me into. A few times, I\nfelt like I actually caught the switch in mid-stare, it was in the mouth and\neyes. And as I changed, I felt my inner\ncore change at the same time. I would\nfeel more confident or less confident; mature or childlike; sexually\nadventurous or withdrawn; freezing cold or sticky hot.

\n\n

These….aspects….I\nknew that both resided inside me. It\nfelt like there were a bunch of rooms in my mind and, more and more often now,\nI found myself lost, with a sense of déjà vu, in some obscure part of my\ncerebral cortex, the part of the brain I had learned in school that played a\nkey role in awareness, attention and memory. \n

\n\n

Everything\nI had lived through or imagined or dreamed while on this boat felt like it had\nbeen backed up on a video clip and then scattered among those alien rooms. As a result, now when I least expected it, I’d\nstumble into any number of scenes, from the horrifically sexual, horror-movie\nsequences that were crude and painful, to visualizing Grandpa polishing his\nshoes. I felt like I was going\ncrazy.

\n\n

Worse, I had a good idea of what they planned to do to me; to do\nwith me; what they would turn me into---and that was a whore and a slut. Some already called me a whore, but I knew I\nwasn’t---at least, not yet. I knew I was\ninnocent about much of life, but I was pretty sure prostitutes did what they\ndid out of necessity. It was a business\nto them and they always separated business from pleasure.

\n\n

On the other hand, to me, sluts were generally openly promiscuous\nwomen---they did what they did I thought, because they liked it. Sluts had taken their new sexual liberation\nfar too far, and they just didn’t care about what anyone thought of them.

\n\n

To me, there was a big difference between the two.

\n\n

I took a deep breath and thought bleakly to myself, Please! \nLeave my family out of it and I’ll\nbecome whatever he wants. In fact, I’ll\nbe the best pleasure slave, the best whore he’s ever had. But there’s still always going to be something\ninside that’ll be uniquely me—I’ll never give them everything.

\n\n

They might make me their whore and they can do anything they want\nto my body, but they can’t make me enjoy it. \nI’ll be their whore forever if necessary; but I’ll never be their\nslut. They can’t make me do that; they\ncan’t have that. They can touch\nme, but they couldn’t touch me, not\nthe me that lay beyond my body.

\n\n

With that realization, most of my fear slipped away. And as the fear subsided, so did any remaining\nrage I might have felt. I’d try to hide\nit, but I despised them and their equally blind Master. To hell with him and his crew!

\n\n

Nothing was inevitable. She had not chosen this way. It was her fate. It had been decided since before time began. It had been decided before she began. Nothing could be done. There was no point in trying. It was way too late. The inevitability of nothing was totally\nsupreme, overriding everything. No way\nout. No way through. She could only accept the unacceptable. She could only endure the unendurable. Nothing was wrong!

\n\n

-Laurie Matthew, in\nFight! Rabbit! Fight!

\n\n

And so Victoria gave herself over to becoming what she only seemed\nto be, and let that updated mask of self-guide her actions. In this, she was more successful than she had\never dreamed she might be.

\n\n

Looking around, I saw a small pile of clothing on one of the\nchairs and walked over to look at it. There\nwas a burgundy sweat band, very brief stretch bottoms and a sports bra, both\nlight gray in color. These in turn were\nlying upon white ankle socks and pair of athletic shoes.

\n\n

Before dressing, I took off my breast chain and slave collar, laid\nthem on the dresser and walked into to the bathroom where I cleaned myself off,\npaying particular attention to between my legs. \nAlthough Bossman had forced himself\ninto my bed last night (quit playing with\nwords, I thought to myself, to my\neverlasting shame I’d given him exactly what he wanted), we’d finished with\nwhat could only be described as a sexual marathon. Consequently, I knew I smelled like something\nthat even the cheapest whore would avoid. \n

\n\n

I still burned with shame and embarrassment at how I had not only\nstruggled ineffectually, but in the end had willingly taken him into my body. That\nwas the problem a small voice had whispered,\nit had felt so damn good. I had freely\ngiven him, my rapist, the great physical pleasure which I had unknowingly\ndenied myself for so long.

\n\n

Walking back into the cabin, I saw that someone had come in while I\nwas washing myself and had set a tray of food on the table. On it lay one cup of lukewarm instant coffee,\na warm croissant and my morning supplements. \nIt also held the antiseptic cream I needed to ensure that my recent, and\nunwanted, surgeries didn’t get infected---things were looking up. Then I noticed that someone had brought in a\nTV and set it on the end of the dresser near my makeup. Also, a small wall clock had been hung over\nthe bed.

\n\n

Not knowing whether it was hooked up or not, I walked over to the\nTV with my coffee and peeked in back—it was connected to a cable which went\ninto the wall of the cabin and the power cord led to a normal outlet. I turned it on and immediately, sound and\nlight came to life on the screen, steadying after a second to reveal a female broadcaster\nI recognized.

\n\n

Going back to the table with the croissant and sitting carefully, I\nwatched in disbelief as my mother and then my father, and finally my aunt were\ninterviewed.

\n\n

My mother was a workaholic, always in control and emotionally\nundemonstrative; she had always been hard for me to get close to. She was a woman who had worked hard to get\nwhere she was and she had a lot of pride in what she’d accomplished over her\ncareer. I loved my mother, but never\nreally knew if I came up to her expectations. \nBut on the television, my mother was distraught and seemed almost on the\nverge of losing control, absolutely unlike I had ever seen her before. She must be heartsick worrying about me.

\n\n

I was my father’s girl. \nAlthough my dad was a little odd in some of his beliefs, when I needed someone\nto talk with or just some emotional support, I always went to my dad first. My father always knew what I was thinking and\nwhy—we were that close. Since he was at\nhome, his television interview was by remote hookup. On TV my father seemed little better than my\nmother, being almost incoherent with grief at times. My mom had always been the stronger one of\nthe two, but neither of them showed the strength during the interviews that I\nknew they had.

\n\n

But it was my aunt who surprised me. Aunt Samantha seemed a tower of strength to me. She was with my mother and both were still on\nCancun. But where my mother seemed\ndisorganized and pitiful, Aunt Samantha seemed totally in control at all times.

\n\n

Samantha was my mother’s younger sister, her only sister and had\nbeen a surprise to her parents. She was twenty-nine\nyears old now, a single, high-powered semi-feminist lawyer working in the city. Her only remaining family was her sister, brother-in-law\nand myself. Samantha was only ten years\nolder than me; we knew everything\nabout each other and there was a bond between us that went deep, deeper than blood.

\n\n

I called her Aunt Sam and in turn, Samantha absolutely spoiled me\nto death. We were closer than most\nsisters could ever hope to be. I blinked\nback tears as I watched my aunt. During the\ninterviews, Aunt Sam always looked beautiful, was always poised and icily polite\nto the reporters no matter how stupid the questions, continuously positive in her\nanswers and outlook, and always optimistic that they would eventually find me.

\n\n

She was an exceptional woman, a fabulous looking tower of strength\nmore intelligent than almost anyone around her, and these qualities couldn’t be\nmore obvious than when she was on TV.

\n\n

Sam always ended every interview on a positive note, insisting, “My\nniece will come back to us again. We will\nget her back, we will see her again.”

\n\n

It was all that I could do not to break out in tears; I missed my\nfamily so much.

\n\n

When you are a strong\nwoman, you will attract trouble. When a\nman feels threatened, there is always trouble.

\n\n

-Barbara Taylor Bradford

\n\n

I loved my Aunt Sam, but we were such very different kinds of\npeople. I knew I had always been much more\nreserved and well, shy in an old-fashioned “decent” sort of way. I was by nature much more restrained and less\nopen than my aunt. I didn’t like to\nswear and was uncomfortable using vulgar language, let alone doing so in\npublic.

\n\n

I think I sometimes made other young people my age uncomfortable\nbecause I had a sense of decorum and perhaps even dignity that was appropriate\nin someone two or three times my age. There\nhad often been times I wished I could be more demonstrative in public, but this\nwas my nature. And although young, I was\ncomfortable with who I was. No matter\nhow many friends I had and no matter where I might be, my life had always been\ncentered on my family and it was these values that had always kept me grounded.

\n\n

I was more conservative than my aunt in other ways too. I’d read about them, but had never understood\nthe early feminist’s call to demonize Barbie dolls and Cosmo magazine, to look\nwith disdain upon the female desire to go shopping, to apply makeup and hunt\nfor sexy shoes and cute boyfriends.

\n\n

Instead it seemed these neutered women always wanted a world where\nmen and women dressed alike and worked in navy suits and were equal in every\nway. I’d just never understood\nthis. And when #MeToo came along, I\nsupported equality, but they lost me when they began going after men in\ngeneral.

\n\n

I admit it, I was old-fashioned and conservative, and about\neverything a person my age could be, to be uncool. All I had ever wanted was to get through\ncollege, find a good man to marry and then stay at home and raise a lot of\nkids. Nothing to me could be more\nimportant than my family.

\n\n

Although a successful career woman, my mother was not much of a mother. There always seemed to something missing in\nher life. Almost like she’d missed out\non something earlier in her life, like she’d rather have been a full-time mother\nthan a successful business woman.

\n\n

I knew I’d never make that mistake. My mother had always told me, “You can't be\nthe best career woman and the best mother at the same time; you always have to\nchoose one over the other.\" While I\nfelt my mother may have come to eventually regret the choices she’d made, I knew\nI had firmly chosen family over\ncareer.

\n\n

This choice of mine drove my aunt nuts. While I had never understood the attraction\nof feminism, my Aunt Sam on the other hand, had bought into most of the\nrhetoric about the “sex wars.” She wore\nthe navy power suits that emphasized her naturally dominating personality and\nas a lawyer, she delighted in taking cases in which she could defend women\nagainst men for real or imagined slights. \nShe just loved to screw what she called “loser men” to the wall.

\n\n

Then she’d come by our house later and mockingly laugh about what\nshe’d done to them, how she’d been able to humiliate them in court and how the judgments\nthat she was able to get against them oftentimes were actually unfair to the men.

\n\n

Fairness did not seem to have anything to do with it. I loved her, but I did not understand this\nattitude and it made me uncomfortable. So\nwe just didn’t talk about it by mutual agreement. It was not her most endearing quality, but Sam\ndidn’t care however, as long as she was able to take care of her female\nclients.

\n\n

A natural beauty, in a funny way Samantha had also made it clear\nto me that she was very aware that today technology is biology. When Sam felt she had finally begun to age, she\nfreely admitted that she was going to take complete advantage of it to retain her\nlooks.

\n\n

I thought this a strange contradiction in my aunt, this odd\nconfluence where American technology trumped American feminism. But even as my aunt Samantha embraced certain\naspects of feminism, she also hated the grubby, unisex jeans and no-makeup look\nand the drugs that zoned you out. Even\nas a feminist, she still liked to look enticing to men. I think a little of this was the “you can look,\nbut you’ll never have this” touch with which she so dominated the men around\nher. Another part though was that she liked\nto look good, and just truly did not care about what other people thought.

\n\n

Another really strange contradiction was that she couldn't\nunderstand the appeal of dances that didn't involve touching your partner. Despite her sometimes stark feminism, in the\nuniverse of Eros, she longed for style and wit. \nBut she was always unhappy because of her conflicting impulses; make men\nfear her, but at the same time ensure this public face never failed to\nintimidate the few men she thought might be suitable.

\n\n

While Sam loved to play the corporate power games, I think maybe\ninside there was always a single regret that the one man she was meant to be\nwith for the rest of her life would more than likely be driven away by the very\nthings that made her so successful.

\n\n

Hubris was a concept I think might have been coined just so there would be a term that applied to her.  Aunt Sam gloried in her achievements and the strength of will and purpose which finally enabled Samantha to engage life on her own terms.  It had taken a long, long time, but at last she felt she was in control of her being and her destiny.  There was no one that could tell her what to do anymore, and being in control of everything around her was so incredibly important to her.

Samantha told me several times that only after she had become a lawyer did she feel she was safe for the first time, secure for the first time, free of men and their sexist demands and the necessity to mold her personality and behavior to please them.  She vowed then she would do everything possible to ensure that never again would she have to ask a man for anything.  And she hoped I would have the same chance at success as did she.

For the first time, Samantha felt she could finally do what she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted.  She was an independent soul, and like it or not, she was more than equal to most men now.  In fact, she was superior to the vast majority of men now.

After more than twenty years of melding work and education and mental bondage and servitude, the kind most girls and women know well, her mind and body---yes, mind and body---belonged to no one but herself.

\n\n

That was my Aunt Sam and God, how I loved her despite all of her\nfaults. A ball-buster, a feminist and a\nnarcissist; hard on the outside and a hopeless romantic on the inside. All wrapped up in one beautiful contradictory\npackage.

\n\n

The people\nwho would like to manipulate and use you won't tell you your blind spots. They may plan to continue using them to their\nadvantage.

\n\n

-Assegid Habtewold,\nin The 9 Cardinal\nBuilding Blocks: For Continued Success in Leadership

\n\n

In the mirror, I saw Bossman\nenter the cabin behind me. I turned to\nface him and immediately assumed the position that I’d been taught. I, who had only been with one man before him;\nI, who had never before undressed in front of a man in daylight, now presented my\nnaked self with little guilt and without hesitation to him. I’d been taught to lose\nmany of my inhibitions in less than a week; they’d been severe, yet quite\nsuccessful lessons.

\n\n

Bossman looked at me, had obviously\nseen my eyes brimming with tears. While I\nthought he might have a slightly sympathetic look on his face, all he did was\npoint to the TV as he said, “M, turn that thing off.”

\n\n

I did this quickly, then turned to face him again and assumed my\nposture of submission.

\n\n

“Put your chain and collar back on. NOW!”

\n\n

I quickly put the collar back around my neck and locked it. After this, I again donned my nipple chain.

\n\n

Bossman continued, his voice\nsuddenly harsh, “Keep that collar on from now on—next time I see it off, I will\nfuck you up. Don’t make me do that.”

\n\n

After a long pause, he continued in the same tone, “The men didn’t\nthink you should be allowed to see the news about your disappearance. But I’ve decided differently—it appears to be\na slow news cycle right now and you’re at the top of every broadcast. But I’ve no doubt soon something else will come\naround, some tragedy, some great loss, and then you’ll just go away. You’ll disappear from the minds of the reporters\nand, eventually your family will learn to live with you being gone.”

\n\n

I couldn’t help it, despite my best efforts I flared up. “My family will never forget me. They’ll\nnever forget about me.”

\n\n

I paused and then took a chance, even while keeping a submissive\nstance. “I don’t know who you are, or if\nyou’re married or not. I assume you’re\nnot, since you go about kidnapping women and raping and selling them.”

\n\n

With this brave declaration, I raised my chin and looked up at him\nfor just a second, but then put my face back down to look at my feet as I had\nbeen taught. I’d looked at him just long\nenough to seem to challenge him and I knew he\nknew I had done so. He could take much\naway from me, but he couldn’t take away my family.

\n\n

If I had stopped then, everything would have been…..okay. But I couldn’t stop myself as I continued, “But\na man like you might have a daughter somewhere too. A daughter like me? Would you forget about her? Would you forget your own daughter?”

\n\n

He seemed to fly across the cabin and picked me up with both hands\naround my throat, lifting me off of the deck of the boat. His eyes were filled with rage and he seemed\nout of control. I knew then he would\nkill me and there was nothing I could do about it. He was choking me and I put my hands around\nhis to support my neck but forced myself to not struggle. My ears were filled with a vast roaring sound\nas if all the blood in my body were trying to race to my head, but couldn’t\nmake it past my neck. He seemed barely\naware of what he was doing, his whole face was bunched, like it was held\ntogether by nothing but cords.

\n\n

After a few seconds he finally shook me once and then threw down on\nthe bed, taking a deep breath as he stepped away from me. He took a few more seconds to calm down and\nthen looked at me again.

\n\n

He sighed his voice softer, but still angry, “Slave…..M. Girl, you test me. Don’t continue\nto test me.”

\n\n

After a long silence, he continued, “Here is the truth. If I had a daughter like you, I would never have\nallowed her to go to the places you did, where she could be taken like I’ve\ntaken you. I’ve let you have this TV so\nthat you can get used to your new reality. \nThis,” he pointed around him, “this is it. Believe it. \nBelieve in it. Understand\nit. No matter what happens in the\noutside world, your old world ends here and your new world begins with us---it will\nnever change.”

\n\n

“You may have been stupidly naïve, inexperienced when we brought\nyou aboard, but now, now you know exactly\nwhat we expect from you, what we will\nhave from you. I am,” he glared at me, “the master of your body now. Your flesh and your blood belong to me. Your fear, your outrage, even your lust belongs\nto me now. You get no more choices here\nthan a butterfly floating on the wind, no more opportunities to decide anything for yourself. And the sooner you realize this, the better\nfor you.”

\n\n

Several minutes passed as he paced back and forth in the cabin. “Okay,” he said as he calmed down even more. “This is my last explanation, so listen---listen\nvery carefully. Here’s how I see it……the\nvast majority of American females your age have had everything given to\nthem. Yet more and more of you act raunchy\nas hell in public and see no problem with this. \nBut what I see is a girl who is confusing sexual explicitness with\nsexiness.”

\n\n

He paused, “I once had an Anthropology PhD candidate as a “guest.” Odd combination, little bit of a feminist\nmixed with being a free spirit, and even as we acquired her, she remained\nconvinced that a woman’s body is a “beautiful thing”---if a woman's got a\npretty body and she likes her body, she should have no compunction about showing\nit off. Men made the laws, she told me several\ntimes at first, and she wouldn’t let any man tell her what to do, especially here on the islands. So screw the laws. Besides, she felt her bravado exuded confidence….that was the word she\nused, exuded….when people wore little clothing and she had absolutely no\ncompunction about exposing herself on the beach to pick up young guys.”

\n\n

“The funny thing was---maybe ironic is a better word----it was\nthese acts of “freedom” that drew our attention in the first place. In any case, she insisted she had every right\nto feel that way and I completely agreed with her. Right up to the point where I broke her sorry\nass and then, after I enjoyed fucking her for two weeks, fucking her until she\nwalked bow-legged, and then I sold her beautiful, slightly worn cunt to three rather\nenthusiastic men with less than altruistic motives. Ya see, I figured she’d enjoy researching the\nanthropological and intersectional imperatives of having her pussy and ass kept\nforcibly filled for as long as she still had a good body.”

\n\n

He chuckled, “I understand she’s had a change of heart somewhere\nalong the line, but it was a little late to do her any good. Anthropology and feminism be damned, I’m\npretty fucking sure she regrets having been an exhibitionist and flaunting her\nherself on the beach down here.\"

\n\n

He snorted then, but if from mocking amusement or something else,\nI could not tell. “You have had many\nopportunities, but you have pissed them away. \nYours is a life wasted….up to this point. Even so, you on the on the hand, are\ndifferent from most of the young women coming out of the U. S. now. Your misfortune was to be young and\nbeautiful, and yet innocent about life. \nUnfortunately for you, you’ll pay for that with your body and your\nfreedom.”

\n\n

“The rest of them? They’re\ntruly slutty cunts and they just don’t get it. \nThey don’t understand the link between behavior and consequences. They get my attention by the way they act and\ndress? I respond by giving them a little\nride on my boat while I help them prepare for a new life. It’s all a misunderstanding and they’re all begging me to understand them. The\ncunts. About as basic as you can get,\nstimulus and response, stimulus and response.”

\n\n

He shook his head. “No\nmatter what they might be wearing on the outside; blouse and skirt or dress, or\npants suit, it doesn’t matter---more and more of the ones I take are wearing\nnothing underneath. They come down here\nand lay on the beach wearing nothing or next to nothing and once they’re on the\nboat they all assure me they weren’t trying to provoke men--and I think a lot\nof the stupid idiots actually believe that. \nThey tell me they just prefer to be naked because “that was the way that\nthey were most comfortable”. As if that\nmade a difference about whether or not they deserved to be in my pipeline.”

\n\n

“You know?” he looked at me coldly for a second. “The one thing that none of them ever counts\non is that sometimes there are monsters\noutside at night, and guys like me are the ones on the prowl.”

\n\n

“The bottom line is that I love uninhibited, natural women. I just don’t like it when they try to kid\nthemselves about what are and what they’re doing. As for you---I think underneath everything\nyou’ve tried to hide from us, underneath everything you’ve tried to hide from\nyourself, you’re just the same as these others; that you’ll wind up proving me\nright and satisfying every man here at the same time.”

\n\n

Changing subjects, Bossman pointed to the bed and looked at me, “We call this the Celestial Bed.  I know, kind of cheesy.  But it’s the best bed on the boat, and as you know, it’s temporarily yours.  After all, you seemed to willingly enjoy it last night, no?”

I was still thinking about what he’d said before, when suddenly I understood what he’d just said last.  I blushed and looked down at my feet.

“……and this is where you’ll receive your training for the rest of your time on this boat.”

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, I felt like I had to say something so I asked, “Why do you call the Celestial bed?”

Bossman looked at me with a small smile as if he thought I’d never ask and replied, “Most men in my line of business don’t believe in heaven.  But I think that bed has converted many of them.  Men have gone to paradise on this bed---and I expect them to do so again shortly.”

I grimaced, not finding his comments funny at all.  I shook my head to clear it.  I had been on the boat for days now and I still found it hard to pay attention all of the time.  It was like as soon as it got threatening, a part of my brain just stopped working, just refused to process what these men said.

\n\n

“But you know what? I think\nI can pretty much guarantee the life you got coming is gonna be a hell of a lot\nmore interesting than the normal bitch we take in here. Living your new life is gonna be like owning\na string of expensive pearls. The only\nthing is, with you, you’re gonna have to go through a whole lot more string to\nget to the pearls than the average slut we train.”

\n\n

He seemed to change moods, “Now start getting ready, it’s exercise\ntime. Beginning tomorrow morning, we’ll\nbring your food after you’ve\nexercised.” And with that he left my\ncabin.

\n\n

The process of\ndissociation is an elegant mechanism built into the human psychological system\nas a form of escape from (sometimes literally) going crazy. The problem with checking out so thoroughly is\nthat it can leave us feeling dead inside, with little or no ability to feel our\nfeelings in our bodies. The process of\nrepair demands a re-association with the body, a commitment to dive into the\nbody and feel today what we couldn’t feel yesterday because it was too\ndangerous.

\n\n

-Alexandra Katehakis, Mirror of Intimacy: Daily Reflections on\nEmotional and Erotic Intelligence

\n\n

As I slowly walked over to the exercise clothing still lying on\nthe bed, I vowed to never again challenge him like I had. Whenever\nI pushed against the boundaries he’d laid down, I played into his hands,\nand…..part of me was shocked at this…..because for some stupid reason I actually\nfelt the slightest sense of regret at having questioned or disappointed him. That this last was not only stupid, I had no\ndoubt, but it was also just wrong. No\nmatter how traitorous or illogical my thoughts might be, the man was a\nmonster. And I absolutely refused to put\nmyself in a situation where I might find myself sympathetic to him….in any way\nand for any reason.

\n\n

What was going on with me? What\nwere these men doing to my mind? Was I\ngoing crazy? It was like the mind of a\nsecond person had been grafted onto mine, and this other person was more than a\nlittle perverted in the head. But at the\nsame time I felt a sense of determination building in me, that if he wanted to\nthink they’d ride me to heaven, then to\nhell with them.

\n\n

The shorts were just that, very short and tight as well. They were cut high on the hips, climbed to\nthe top of my butt crack, pulled tightly on the lips of my vagina and didn’t\ncover nearly enough of my rear. After I’d\nput them on, I found that the crotch of the shorts were so tight they put uncomfortable\npressure on the hard rubber pole still nestled inside my rear. I could also feel air moving across most of\nthe lower part of my butt cheeks.

\n\n

I did my best to ignore these distractions.

\n\n

The sports bra was not very large either, looking like it might\nhave come out of something designed by a male jock for a Victoria’s Secret cum\ncatalogue. It didn’t give a full-bodied\ngirl like me nearly enough support and I knew my breasts would be bobbing and swinging\nfreely with every move that I might make.

\n\n

I knew this\nwas exactly what the men wanted, but how odd that this uninviting thought gave me\nthe vaguest sense of….grim pleasure too.

\n\n

The nipple chain swung gracefully and hung down slightly from\nbetween the cups of my bra. I carefully\nsat down and put my socks on and then the shoes, noting that for the first time\nI had been given shoes that were the correct size.

\n\n

Just then Bossman walked\nback in carrying a DVD case and some light hand weights. I immediately stood up and assumed the\nrequired position. He dropped the\nweights on my unmade bed and walked over to the TV. He pushed a button and a small tray came out\nof the bottom of the television. Taking\nthe DVD out of its case, he put it in the tray and showed me how to play\nit.

\n\n

“This,” he said, “is your aerobics work out video. You’ll do a 30-minute workout, following this\nroutine exactly; one might even say slavishly.” \nHe seemed to smile slightly when he said this.

\n\n

“Then,” he continued, “You’ll work out with the weights on the bed\nfor about 20 minutes. We have second\nvideo for that. I’m starting you with\nlight hand weights and as you become more accustomed, we can increase the\nweight. I want you to stay in\nshape. I hate to see my property\nover-weight---I really hate it!”

\n\n

He looked at me hard for a second. \n“There’s no laptop, no WiFi access. \nSo don’t fuck this up. Don’t play\nsome dumb ass, blonde-bimbo-game trying to get free. Don’t try to hit one of us with the weights\nor anything stupid like that. Remember what\nyou are and where you are. And most of\nall, think about what happens to your family if you stop cooperating.”

\n\n

“Just remember this. In\nreturn for your family’s safety, you have agreed to remain here. You gave us your word. And just because you think because you were\ncoerced, they don’t really mean anything. \nSo I will tell you again, words have meaning here. You gave us yours and I hold you to it. Because we sure as shit will keep our word if\nwe have to fuck up your family.”

\n\n

With that he turned and began to walk out of the cabin, but then\nhe stopped by my bed. “M, from now one, you’ll\nmake your bed first thing every morning and clean up this cabin. After you dress, you will exercise, and then\neat. Finally, you’ll shower and put on\nyour makeup, then put on whatever outfit you’ve been given. Do you understand?”

\n\n

“Yes, Master.”

\n\n

With my agreement, he turned and walked to the door where he stopped\nand told me, “Tonight, we’ll talk after dinner.” He left me alone in my cabin.

\n\n

I went back to the TV and turned it on, moving it so that it was\nfacing more of the center of the cabin. I\nwas familiar with the female aerobics instructor, but not this particular exercise\nset. I’d always been athletic; running up\nand down a long field was my way of exercising, not jumping about to a video. But I applied myself and by the end of her\nfirst workout, I was drenched with sweat. \nI was a bit sore from having to move so much and so carefully with my\nbutt plug in, but I found that if I tried, I could eventually ignore it.

\n\n

Taking a short break, I put the other DVD on and lifted weights\nfor almost twenty minutes. This, I found\nmore tiring than I had expected and I knew it would take me some time to build\nup to what Bossman expected from me.

\n\n

After working out, I took a quick break and then began to clean up\nthe cabin. I hesitated when I got to the\nbed. Always before, I’d felt so\ninsulated from all of my problems, so protected from the world in my bed back\nhome. A typical teenager, it was my safe\nzone and I’d always been able to relax there, allowing my mind to wander. But not now. \n

\n\n

He’d called it the Celestial Bed. \nThis Bed was a symbol to the men of all I suddenly hated about my life\nright now, of what they did to me on it and of all that I had become to\nthem. The Bed was a loveless arena for me\nnow.

\n\n

To these men I was not a human being anymore, but rather in their\nminds had been turned into an entity, a target, a thing, a sex object whose\npresence was immediately equated with being the perfect sex receptacle and\nwhose place was in The Bed and nowhere else. \nI was a Bed object to these men and nothing more.

\n\n

But then the thought came to me unbidden, as awful as my life is now, things could be so much worse. I’d do the best I could in a difficult\nsituation.

\n\n

And that was my early morning routine for the rest of my time on this\nawful craft. My exercise time turned out\nto be my only connection to the outside world, since other than these few morning\nhours, they somehow were able to remotely disconnect my TV from wherever the\nsignal might be sourced.

\n\n

I quickly came to value this time, because it seemed as if they\nnever left me alone for the rest of the time; one or the other of them was always\nbeating me, preparing to take me or had just finished punishing me for some imagined\ninfraction. When not doing this, it seemed\nthat one or more of them was doing something awful to me in the pursuit of\nmaking me a better slave, which to them meant more “submissive.”

\n\n

The other times I came to value were the hour or two on deck just before\ndinner and my time alone after dining. Before\neating, I could finally relax and let my defenses down just a little, even\nthough the men were often about. \nSurprisingly, Bossman and I would\noften talk as the setting sun was reflected off of the deck or the water as it slowly\nbaked us.

\n\n

I wanted to scream in frustration at the simplistic motives that\ndrove him to do these terrible and inhuman acts of violence against women, against me. Yet, at the same time, he was obviously well\neducated and well-read in other areas. It\nwas like arguing with a brilliant Ph. D. in some ways. Always thought provoking, his view of the\nworld was based from experiences I could only imagine.

\n\n

While I found him fascinating at times, it was like the\nfascination one feels for sharks or snakes---there was a measure or repulsion\nand you also kept your distance, just to be safe.

\n\n

Early on we talked about the weather, fishing, the Caribbean and\nany current events (other than my kidnapping) I might have seen on the TV that\nmorning. Later, he left the boat while I\nremained, but towards the end of his time on the boat, we talked about me (he\nwas surprisingly candid about why it had been me who had been kidnapped and not\none of the hundreds of other equally beautiful and certainly more suitably raunchy\ngirls just as available on Cancun), about what I believed and about what I had\nexperienced in life up to this point. These\nwere painful discussions, and sometimes my mind stopped working very well\nbecause of what his men had just done to me…..

\n\n

Later, towards the end of my time on the boat, I found myself\nbasking in the sun when suddenly, I realized I didn’t care about the past or\nthe future anymore. I found myself just\nfully engaged in the present, somehow enjoying the moment. Actually\nsomehow enjoying that moment on the boat!! \n

\n\n

And it was then I understood that what I had always wanted, that\nwhere I had always wanted to be more than anything else, was in the\npresent. In fact, I could only imagine\nflatness ahead, like a woman walking on level pavement, with nothing before or\nafter or at either side, just an illimitable and featureless stretching forth\nof days.

\n\n

In a moment of surprising honesty, of which there were far more\nthan I might have expected, Bossman\ntold me they had reviewed a number of beautiful young girls as candidates to\nfill the position it seemed I was destined to occupy—how good to learn, I\nthought with disgusting irony mixed with more than a tinge of anxiety, I was\nthat competitive in the category of girl\nmost likely to be kidnapped and disappeared for life.

\n\n

The bastard for whom they were acting had requested a beautiful\nyoung woman idealistic about the world and innocent, but who underneath still\noozed sex appeal. This definitely did\nnot describe me!

\n\n

Cold feet ran down my back as he explained that this female could\nnot be overtly coarse or raunchy, yet the same time had to be capable of being\ntrained to become an absolute whore, a total slut in bed.

\n\n

My mouth was dry and my throat hurt from suddenly being so\ntight. Was this what they thought of\nme? My future?

\n\n

In short, it seemed these men wanted a young woman that could be\ntrained to move with the bearing of a Southampton debutante, but who could be re-educated\nto talk and fuck with the base vigor of a Victorian parlor whore.

\n\n

My mind seemed to stop working as he finished his description of\nhow they apparently looked at me, but I don’t think he noticed.

\n\n

By the second day I had come to his attention, it seemed he’d been\npretty certain I was the one for whom they’d been looking. I too remembered my carefree times on the\nbeach that day, enjoying myself with my best friends. But unknown to me, they’d taken videos of all\nof us at the beach and at a couple of bars we’d visited that night.

\n\n

These last videos of me were what had clinched it for the client. Learning this made me angry although I kept\nmy feelings hidden. I felt a deep anger\nkindle inside me once more at them for doing this to me, but the most anger I\nfelt, by far, was at myself for having been so stupid, for not having been more\naware of my surroundings. Because of my\nsophomoric stupidity, I had gone through hell and was going to be put through more. Worse, I had dragged my family along with me.

\n\n

Irrationally, at that moment, I also felt fleeting anger at my\nmother for not having done a better job of training me and at my father for not\nbeing there to protect me.

\n\n

“On your last night,” he said, “ you collected the attention of\neveryone around you at T. O.’s as gracefully as fish swim through water----during\nthe course of the evening, you’d energized the entire place without uttering a\nword loud enough for anyone but your two friends to hear.”

\n\n

What he had\nsaid was just stupid. Never one immune to\nawkward attempts at flattery, I knew he was absolutely exaggerating what\nhappened that night. Perhaps in some\nidiotic attempt to appeal to my vanity? \nNot in a million years!

\n\n

Well, maybe\njust a little. God! Was I really such a stupid, shallow person?

\n\n

“That last night, you were,” he continued, “a rare woman in that\nyou were less interested in framing your beauty than embracing it. The way you were dressed when we took you was\nproof of that. That dress told us volumes\nabout what you’ve kept hidden about yourself; qualities which you yourself have\nyet to realize.”

\n\n

“We know you better,” he seemed to brag, “Than you know yourself.”

\n\n

Suddenly, that tiniest feeling of pleasure I had been feeling just\nevaporated and I wanted to yell in his face that I was not impressed with his\nanalysis of my charms. I wanted to let\nto him know that being enslaved, gang-raped and tortured, and then sold as an\nunwilling sexual concubine is not the way to a girl’s heart.

\n\n

I wanted to scream at him that the fact that I’d been kidnapped\nand raped, that all of the pain and humiliation I’d suffered on his hellboat and\nthe brutality with which I’d been treated would forever ensure I would always\nbe a captive and never voluntarily a slave owner’s companion. I wanted to scream all of these things but I\ndidn’t because I still wasn’t sure how far I could go with him without being\npunished.

\n\n

I didn’t say anything, but I think he saw the look on my\nface. Suddenly, he got angry with me,\nangry at my self-pity. “It’s time to\nshed the skin of your past. Grow a new\none, make it thick with your anger. At\nleast you’ll survive then.”

\n\n

Sometimes I didn’t want to leave the cabin, but they made me. I lay on the deck in the sunshine and thought\nback to how I’d been feeling over the last couple of days; I wondered if this horrific experience was literally driving me insane. I don’t….think….they were drugging me. Yet these schizophrenic moments, first I felt\none way and then suddenly I felt another way; first I was up and then I was\ndown; I was depressed and then filled with a false sense confidence for no\nreason. Anxiety tore me apart and nothing\nappeared constant. My thoughts were\ninconsistent butterflies, flitting from one thing to another, never completely\ncentered on the idea of escape or rescue, as I would have predicted before this\nhad happened. I felt like there was someone else in my head\nwith me now, always whispering to me. My\ninstincts and empathy had generally served me well, but right now I had no idea\nof what or who to trust.

\n\n

Why am I\nletting you comfort me? He stared over\nher head. Because I’ve made sure you\nhave no one else to turn to.

\n\n

-Kresley Cole,\nin Lothaire

\n\n

At first I refused to speak at first, but he finally got me to\ntalk about my family. I think he thought\nhe was actually being clever, talking about his early life just to make me more\ncomfortable when talking about mine. From\nhis stories, I found he was a hard man in many ways; a strong disciplinarian\nand one that believed in strict control of his property.

\n\n

I was, he said, fated to be here, now, with him. He told me about an ancient Chinese proverb\nwhich, roughly, went, an invisible red\nthread connects those destined to meet, despite time and place, despite the\ncircumstances. The thread can be\ntightened or tangled, but can never be broken. Somehow, he convinced me of the red thread\nbetween us.

\n\n

But I also found he had the oddest sense of humor and was not\nafraid to laugh—it seemed he’d not gone to the slave master’s school of evil\nafter all. True, he may often have\nlaughed at the distress of the teenaged girl he’d sworn to turn into a slut---me,\nbut at least he laughed.

\n\n

I was conflicted, greatly confused; in turn I hated him and then felt\nI needed him for protection from the others. \nAt other times I wanted to hurt him as much as I could, then I would suddenly myself wanting to, if\nnot necessarily help him in anything he wanted to do, certainly not wanting to\ndisappoint him either. How could these\ntwo emotions exist in me at the same time? He was always someone with whom I could talk,\nbut never one I could trust.

\n\n

And a few times, only a few times I told myself, even though much older than me, I thought there\nwas even an odd….almost attractiveness…..about him. I thought then about that long, hard night\nwhen he had first forced me to have sex with him, had ridden me so thoroughly,\nand it was these last emotions that most confused me. How could I look at a man who had raped me as\nbeing attractive in any way? How could this have happened and what did it\nsay about me, how sick my mind had to be? \nWas it even possible to have\nsympathetic feelings like this when he was the one ultimately responsible for\neverything terrible that had happened to me since I’d been taken from Cancun?

\n\n

One thing I noticed in passing was his interest in my family. When we compared our early lives, I talked a\nlot about my family. He asked questions\nabout my mother and father, grandmother and grandfather, cousins and\nnieces. And while he seemed to ask a few\nmore questions about my Aunt Sam than the others, I understood that too. It really was reasonable to me since she was\nthe coolest person in our family, even more so than my parents, and I was proud\nof her. My mother’s sister, I recounted to\nhim how my aunt’s only concern at this point was her career.

\n\n

While Samantha didn’t necessarily fit in with all the new brazen\nhard-charging world of feminism, she certainly embraced much of it. We spoke of how both my Aunt Sam and I wanted\nlarge families, but Samantha had put her desire for a family on hold. I talked about how my aunt felt that while on\ninside she was more of a fun-loving type than the other feminists, this was not\nreadily apparent to most people. We\nspoke of how after she had finally accomplished what she wanted, she would\ndecades later be able come to life again as Sarah Parker’s Carrie\nBradshaw.

\n\n

How there would always be time for her to get serious later.

\n\n

I knew I had just emphasized to Bossman how odd I was for a teenager as we talked about how\ndifferent Samantha and I were. About how\nI loved the old black and white movies, the Art Deco glamour of the 30's; how I\nhad dreamed of dancing with my future husband like Fred and Ginger in white\nhotel suites.

\n\n

I wanted to drink martinis like Myrna Loy and William Powell; live\nthe life of a screwball heroine like Katharine Hepburn, wearing a gold lame\ngown cut on the bias, cavorting with Cary Grant, strolling along Fifth Avenue\nwith my pet leopard. All of these things\nI thought inordinately classy.

\n\n

I had shown my aunt the 1995 publication of \"The Rules,\"\na dating bible which encouraged women to return to pre-feminist mind games by\nplaying hard to get. (\"Don't stay on the phone for more than\n10 minutes.. . .Even if you are the head of your own company……when you're with\na man you like, be quiet and mysterious, act ladylike, cross your legs and\nsmile.. . .Wear black sheer pantyhose and hike up your skirt to entice the\nopposite sex!\")

\n\n

But my aunt had discarded this with a curled lip and a few\ncontemptuous comments. At the same time,\nSamantha had once confided what she felt was her darkest secret to me after she’d\nhad a little too much to drink at a family gathering; that she wouldn’t mind\nbeing a Maxim babe. How odd was\nthat?

\n\n

She knew the luscious babes on the cover of Maxim were supposed to\nbe men's guilty fantasies, not their real girlfriends. That although she knew she was now too old, she\nthought it would be kind of hot to be validated as a Maxim-type girl. Maybe then she could get the Pamela Anderson\n“brand of approval” and find that “one” guy with whom to finally spend the rest\nof her life. To me, these things seem\ninconsistent with her avowed feminism, but everyone gets to define the rules to\ntheir own game, so who was I to accuse her of hypocrisy?

\n\n

No one in our family though, ever\nthought she would find that one particular man. \n

\n\n

What was the point in\nsatin and lace if it didn't make a man struggle to speak?

\n\n

-Alexandra Ivy,\nin Embrace the Darkness

\n\n

After exercising that first morning, I quickly cleaned up my cabin,\nmade my bed and then took a shower after removing my collar and chain. Coming out, I was just in time to see Dog Nose\nleaving the cabin. Looking at The Bed, I\nsaw a folded stack of lingerie with heels lying on top. I slowed and then finally stopped short of\nthe bed.

\n\n

My apprehension soared, my stomach flipped and it was immediately\nfilled with acid-filed butterflies. I\nfelt my mind begin the process of shutting down and even though I fought to\nkeep my wits about me, I moved now on autopilot. God! \nWhy this? Unbidden, an unwelcome\nthought entered my head and suddenly excluded all else: he must be first this\nmorning.

\n\n

With this single thought dominating my mind, the images of what lay\nahead took me to new lows of depression. \n

\n\n

Looking closer, I saw the color of the lingerie on The Bed was\nblack and a totally extraneous thought flitted through my mind: somehow I\ninstinctively knew he was the kind of man who would want me to wear a brighter\ncolored lip gloss with what he had provided. \n

\n\n

I look around me and for the first time realize that the cabin\nfeels drenched with pain, filled with the anguish of only God knows how many\nwomen. Filled with a soul-searing\ndepression, after staring at the floor for a moment, I knew I had to begin\ngetting ready despite how that thought drove spikes through my heart. I had to continually force myself to\nmove. I dried my hair quickly and then\nput lotion on my arms and legs. Next, I began\nputting on makeup. I had always been\nlucky in this and little was required. A\nlight skim of foundation, a touch of shadow on the eyelids and a dab of lip\ngloss, much as I hated it. Finished, I reattached\nthe slave collar around my neck and then brushed out my hair.

\n\n

Walking over to The Bed, I picked up the main garment I would be\nwearing; I shook it out uneasily and saw it was a sheer black babydoll\ntop. The cups designed to cradle my\nbreasts were split in half horizontally. \nThe bottoms were made out of a sheer black material which while\nproviding some small measure of support, did not hide my nipples or aureoles.

\n\n

The tops of each cup consisted only of three thin straps that ran vertically\nfrom the top half of the lower breast cup and met to form one strap three\ninches from where they had started. It\nhad thin lace straps going over my shoulders and which dropped down in front to\nmeet the straps which supported the half cups. \nFrom there, the babydoll was the standard piece that went down to just\nbelow my pubic area.

\n\n

I put the top back down and picked up the garter belt. It was black and had lace designs on the wide\nbelt, while the garters themselves were fairly plain and without detail. The main thing I noticed was that this garter\nbelt had three garters to hold up each stocking, rather than the more normal\ntwo.

\n\n

I pursed my lips with reluctant purpose. Stepping into the garter belt, I pulled it up\naround my waist and then tightened it a little. \nIt had been fitted for the average woman and my waist was more slender\nthan that. Next I shortened each garter\nto make sure there would be good tension on the top of my hose.

\n\n

I refused to think about what I was doing, my mind was blanked\nabout the future. My fingers shook a\nlittle and seemed to work fairly well on their own, without any commands from\nme. It was as if I had no will of my own\nas I watched fingers belonging to someone else do these things, one after\nanother.

\n\n

I then opened the package containing the stockings and shook them\nout. The hose were black and very sheer,\nand had a slightly darker lacy, two-inch wide welt at the top inset with fine\ndesigns. This in turn was topped by a\none inch strip of an even darker but plainer lace of an even heavier weight. I looked again to make sure that I had missed\nnothing and was not surprised to see that panties had not been provided for me\nto wear.

\n\n

I sat down carefully on the edge of The Bed (the large piece of\nrubber still inside me demanded this caution) and rolled the stocking into a\nbunch in my hands as I had been taught, then lifted my right foot, reached down\nand inserted my arched toes into the hose. \nThe plug filling my lower colon made bending over difficult, but I found\nout later that, to the others, I managed to make even this simple act look\nelegant.

\n\n

Their comments did not later raise my spirits.

\n\n

Something within me began to collapse. I folded inwards, became tiny,\ndiminished. The closer I was to being\nfinished, the more my hands shook from apprehension and dread of what came next. Forcing myself to work slowly and carefully\nto avoid snagging the hose, I pulled the stocking up my leg, first around my\nankle and then up my calf. Rocking my\nhands a little to get it over my calf and knee, and then using a gentler\nrocking/pulling motion after I had passed my knee, I finally got it all the way\nup on my thigh. I stretched my leg out\nand tugged on the top of the nylon again to make sure I had it up as high on my\nthigh as I could get it. Finally I\nfastened the three garters on my right side to the heavier lace top of my\nstocking, one garter at a time.

\n\n

Finished with my right leg, I began the same procedure with my\nleft leg. When both my legs were finally\nencased in the sheer nylons, I stood and tugged at the top each to ensure I had\nremoved any wrinkles in the material. \nWhen finished, I sat down again.

\n\n

I reached over and picked up the heels that had been provided by\nDog Nose. They were yet again another\npair of strappy black sandals, but this time with five-inch stiletto heels. There were two thin straps that crisscrossed\nover my toes and another strap that rose from around the side of the heels of my\nfeet and which prevented me from slipping out of the sandals. The straps around my heels were met in back\nby a thin ankle strap which then buckled around the front of my ankle and kept\nthe sandals on my feet.

\n\n

They were very sexy and must have been both expensive and difficult\nfor him to obtain. I was also a little surprised\noverall at his choice of what he wanted me to wear; they were sexy, and while\nobviously expensive, still seemed cheap to me. \nI’d sensed from the beginning that like all the others, he was a brutal\nand violent man, not sensitive at all. \nYet the lingerie were…not what I’d expected from him.

\n\n

As with my stockings and for the same reason, it was a little\ndifficult to finally get my heels on my feet. \nI struggled with them for a minute but finally I was ready. The heels on the sandals were so tall, and I\nwas just so unfamiliar with wearing extremely high heels that it took me a\nmoment to be able to balance on them before I could move.

\n\n

After a little practice, I was finally able to walk over to the\ndresser and as I had been instructed, I faced away from it. Keeping my legs apart and knees locked, I bent\nover from the waist and wrapped both of my hands around my right ankle. Ignoring my unsettled stomach, shaking hands\nand slight tearing pain in my rectum, I slowly began to slide my hands up my\nleg, pushing any of the excess black nylon ahead of my hands, looking over my\nshoulder every now and then at my reflection in the mirror over the dresser to\nmake sure that I wasn’t leaving any wrinkles or that my nylons were stretched or\ndistorted in a way that caused either shadows or lighter or darker areas on my\nlegs. I found myself taking more time than usual to do this because I knew\nthat Dog Nose liked my stockings to fit my legs perfectly, and for some unknown\nreason, it was important to me that my legs be flawless for him. I had already suffered at his hands, and\nalthough I had no doubt would do so again very soon, I really did not want to\ngive him additional motivation to hurt me. \n

\n\n

When my hands had finally slid to the top of my thigh, I unsnapped\neach garter one at a time and re-hooked it again after pulling my stocking up\nand pulling up any excess material from around my leg. I then did this with my left leg. While bent over I had kept my cheeks squeezed\ntogether to keep the plug in, but I eventually found this was really unnecessary\nsince the hard rubber plug was tightly grasped by my anal sphincter. This ensured that the hard rubber cylinder\nwould never be accidentally expelled from inside me.

\n\n

Finished with my stockings, I stood up and took several deep\nbreaths to calm myself.

\n\n

Heels and stockings now satisfactory, I slowly and carefully walked\nback to the side of The Bed. Picking up\nthe babydoll top, I hesitated. It was as\nif by putting this lingerie on, I was irrevocably committing myself to\nfollowing through with this part of the deal. \nI knew I was already committed, but still, I wavered for another half\nminute.

\n\n

Finally, I took a deep breath, held it and then exhaled. With that huff of air and despite my shore\nshoulders, I raised both arms to pull the lingerie over my head. It first bunched over my breasts and then I tugged\nit on down to my waist. Surprisingly\nwell-designed, it immediately cupped and comforted my breasts, giving each a\nlittle support which I sorely appreciated. \n

\n\n

I tugged on the bottom of the babydoll and wiggled my hips,\nallowing it to settle snugly on my body. \nI now went back to the mirror over my dresser and looked at myself as I\nadjusted my breasts to fit in the cups more comfortably.

\n\n

My slave collar matched my lingerie in color. While I was embarrassed to be wearing something\nlike this, a tiny, part of me seemed quite\nsatisfied at how the babydoll top was tight over my breasts and hugged my flat\nbelly beneath, emphasizing how my breasts jutted straight out from my rib\ncage. I hated the irrational part of me\nthat already seemed to have accepted my fate. \nThis was not right, this was not fair! \n

\n\n

Both my nipples and nipple rings were openly visible. The top then tightly hugged my waist before\nit flared out over my hips, accenting my shape and finally ending about two\ninches below where my shaved vagina was still visible through the amazingly sheer\nmaterial.

\n\n

It was not long enough however, to cover much of the tops of my\nstockings. It was just long enough to slightly\nobscure a part of the welt at the top of my hose where they caressed the very\ntops of my thighs. I stood a little over\n6 feet tall in these heels and I was pretty sure I looked spectacular and sexy\nas hell---Guiltily, a fleeting thought\nflashed through my mind: that the men would be pleased as hell with the way I\nlooked. Startled, I suddenly hated that\nthought and yet took a tiny, perverse pleasure in it too. I shook my head in an attempt to clear what\nhad to be some of the most shockingly out-of-place thoughts I’d ever had.

\n\n

Taking several more deep breaths to calm my increasingly shaky\nnerves and shaking my head to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts I’d just\nhad, I reluctantly picked up my nipple chain from the top of the dresser. I ran it through my fingers a couple of times\nbefore acting. Cupping my right breast\nin my right hand, I freed my breast from the half-cup by pulling down on the\nfabric with my left hand. I quickly\nattached the chain to the ring in my right nipple, then pulled and eased my\nbreast back into the meager support of the cup. \nI freed my left breast from its tiny support and attached the remaining\nend of the chain to that nipple ring too. \nAfter filling the empty sustaining cup with my left breast, I rearranged\nthe nipple chain so that it hung symmetrically between my breasts.

\n\n

I looked at myself carefully and suddenly recognized I finished. I was dressed. Somehow I had done this without having any\nreal memory of the act…and despite how naked as I might feel at this moment,\nthere was nothing left for me to put on. I looked at the clock on the wall, though\nabsently--a girl who no longer had to worry about appointments. I saw, but I had never seen. Vaguely, I realized I had finished\nearly.

\n\n

Unaccountably, the thought crossed my mind that he would be pleased.

\n\n

Walking over to the chair by the table, I gingerly sat down and\nwaited for Dog Nose. I noticed again how\nmuch I liked the tight, supporting feel of the stockings on my legs and the suddenly\ntoo-attractive whispery sounds they made as I walked---clearly, wearing hose which\nneeded garters for support felt very different from the panty hose I was used\nto. Unaccountably, and as crazy as it\nsounds, I found them an instant ego boost. \n

\n\n

It's\nhard to describe how they felt. The best\nanalogy I can describe is that it's sort of like having a second layer of skin.\n They were tight on my legs, but I could\nstill feel through them, almost as if I was bare. They made my legs feel silky and soft. But I have no doubt though, wearing the wrong\nsize could be extremely uncomfortable and awkward. I found the seam at the toe irritating, but I\nlearned to make sure it was aligned with the tip of my toenails so that it didn’t\npush into my skin. I had come to love them mentally, even if the physical\npracticality was absent.

\n\n

I knew too that wearing stockings like these back home would have left\nme feeling much more daring. But they also\nleft a girl much more open and sexually vulnerable—maybe that was what they\nwere designed for? In any case, more butterflies\nflew in my stomach and as I waited I took several more deep breaths in an\nattempt to center myself.

\n\n

I could already feel my mind close to disengaging. What I was about to freely do would take me\nover the edge of a terrible new plateau--take me to a place which I’d never before\nbeen and had never before thought of going—that of willing participant rather\nthan coerced victim. Guiltily, I told\nmyself again and again that I was a victim; that I would never have willingly wanted to go to this place. Unfortunately, these assurances I gave myself\ndid not make me feel much\nbetter. Then I thought about my future once\nmore and knew the men on this floating hellhole were bound to force me into a\ndarkly veiled and terribly strange journey. \n

\n\n

It was obscene!! I despised\nthem…but the truth was….I despised myself too. \nI now knew I was a truly weak person because I had capitulated to them,\nwas willing to do or promise almost anything just to make the pain stop. I closed my eyes, fought back tears. Maybe I deserved this? Certainly, I was pitiful because I also knew\nthat by taking this next step, I could never go back. It didn’t matter whether I’d been forced here\nor not. What mattered was my free will; and\nif I did this willingly, no matter what the reason, I was lost. But my family would be safe. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

\n\n

I prayed I would not vomit in sheer disgust while with the next\nman.

\n\n

I didn’t have too long to wait. \n

\n\n

In various states of\nundress, those about her joined in her fondling, lowering their mouths not only\nto her nipples but to her arms and legs, so that each limb was held captive\nabout the wrist or ankle, and smothered in kisses and gentle nibbles. In this way, perhaps eight of the assembly\njoined in pleasuring the young lady….

\n\n

-Emmanuelle de\nMaupassant, in The Gentlemen's Club

\n\n

Bossman walked promptly through the\ndoor just as the clock reached 9; the kidnapped girl leaped to her feet and\nassumed the posture of submission, a slave yielding to her master. All of the men piled in behind him and looked\nat her in silence. She obviously saw\nthem out of the corner of her eye, for her beautiful face burned red with\nembarrassment, but as expected, she remained motionless.

\n\n

Every man there immediately had the identical thought---this\nteenage girl was an absolutely magnificent sight; actually she was an exquisitely\nbeautiful young woman wearing only that which is made to reveal, not to hide;\nthat which is made to emphasize and to accentuate, not to conceal or help to remain\nundiscovered. In both clothing and her\nposture, as unwilling as her presence might have been on this boat, everything\nscreamed this girl was willingly….or unwillingly….presenting herself as a gift,\nmaking herself a present to all of the men in the cabin.

\n\n

I looked up as Bossman\ncleared his throat and pointed to one man, “It’s time you actually meet the men\nwho will be responsible for training you. \nI may not always be here. You\ndon’t need to know their real names, but you may call him “Jorge”. He’ll act as me in my absence.”

\n\n

Dog Nose, I thought to myself. \nHe was carrying a couple of things in a bag and held it by his side.

\n\n

“Enrique.” Elvis. He’s the one that took me in the rear the\nfirst time. He hurt me and in my\nnaiveté, I looked at him coldly. I did\nnot yet really understand the power he still had over me.

\n\n

Regardless of how he had treated me, I tended to see Jorge and\nEnrique in my mind as a pair.

\n\n

“Manuel.” Number Three. The bastard. \nHe’s The Evil One who took me from\nthe back when I was standing, but tied so that I was bent over for him. He’s the one who liked to use clamps on my\nbreasts and who put the steel bar on the top of my feet---the metal piece that just\nabout crushed my feet. I looked at him\ncarefully, neutrally; he was dangerous! The\nsick, perverted bastard!

\n\n

“And Roberto.” Number Four. I quickly glanced at him and then looked\naway. I later found out he took this\nglance as a sign of fear. A much bigger\nbastard than the rest, he’s the worst by far. \nHe’s the worst of all, he’s The\nDemon. This is the one who made me\nwear the leather hood; who bound me and tied my ankles to the back of my thighs\nand lowered me onto that awful piece of wood. \nThis is one who made me want to die. \nThis is the one who is the most dangerous of all. Him, I fear. \n

\n\n

These last two sadistic perverts were also of a kind….

\n\n

I knew from my experiences over the last couple of days that Enrique\nand Jorge would probably use me hard sexually---and a small part of my mind unexpectedly understood I had no say in\nthat, but that it was okay.

\n\n

What the\nhell??

\n\n

Only nineteen years old and inexperienced at life, I was still doing\nmy best to figure it all out. These last\ntwo seemed to be of average intelligence and of normal desires. And while exceedingly rough, I didn’t think\nthey really wanted to hurt me as much as just enjoy all the sex they could with\nme. I regretted it, but my karma was\nsuch that it would be I who assisted these two in their efforts. These were men who in my previous life, I would\nhave never even had known existed, let alone have associated with. But yet, as a woman, I was pretty sure I\nunderstood them.

\n\n

The Demon and The Evil One on the other hand—these were mean-hearted men, pure\nand simple. They didn’t seem very smart,\njust brutal. They liked having a woman to subjugate. \nThey liked hurting women. Not for training and certainly not to punish\nfor having done wrong, But because\nhurting women made them feel good---it made them feel strong--it gave them a\nsense of power and purpose that was otherwise missing from their pitiful lives.

\n\n

A stray thought from my subconscious surfaced; I knew I didn’t understand their feelings towards women and I wondered\nif there was anything that I could do that might help them see women in a\nbetter light?

\n\n

I almost smiled at the idiocy of that thought. Shaking my head, I reminded myself I had to\nremain focused here---these stupid extraneous thoughts would be my doom if I\nwasn’t careful. And besides, they would be taking from me the only thing men like these\never wanted from a woman.

\n\n

I knew that while it would take luck and all of my willpower, I\ncould probably physically and mentally survive anything Enrique and Jorge did\nto me. I thought these two could be manipulated;\nafter all, they just wanted sex with me. \nI couldn’t believe it was me thinking like this; that if I was right, that\nif I willingly gave them as much sex as they wanted, everything would be okay. Sure, I’d be their whore, but that was all\nthat they’d get from me. And in the\nprocess, I might be able to turn one of them into if not a friend, then at\nleast someone who might be a little sympathetic to my situation.

\n\n

But even though there were times that I felt an odd, gentle compulsion\nto cooperate with them, The Evil One\nand The Demon still scared me too\nmuch. I could see them getting too\nexcited, getting carried away and perhaps maiming me, maybe accidentally\nkilling me. That Bossman would probably kill them in turn didn’t seem to enter into\ntheir small minds, nor did it give me much consolation.

\n\n

They scared me. I hoped\nthat if Bossman ever left, Jorge\ncould stand up to them. I knew that if necessary, I was willing give\nboth support and strength to Jorge, in any way he needed. In any way. \n

\n\n

With more than a sudden tinge of panic, I pushed that\ninappropriate thought away. What was the matter with me?

\n\n

Bossman continued, “At all times,\nyou will call each of these men your Master when in their presence. You will always treat them with the respect you\ngive to me. Today each man will be\nresponsible for part of your training. They\nwill emphasize humility, submission and absolute obedience, various sexual\ntechniques and tolerating pain. Beginning\ntomorrow and from that point on, you’ll be expected to share any and all of\nthis training with each man, at his command.”

\n\n

I closed my eyes for a second to blot the scene from my mind. I want to shout at him, at them, but I didn’t. I can’t move; my lips won’t form words. My mouth opens, then closes. I swallow; I’m underwater, I can’t breathe. This was sort of what I had expected, but the\nreality was still stunning, nonetheless. \nIn fact, given the way the last few days had gone, I had in fact been\nexpecting it—I had been dreading it.

\n\n

He then turned and said, “Jorge, I don’t know how you do it, but\nyou choose things for women to wear that make them more beautiful than life\nitself. But with this one, you have\noutdone yourself. Do as good job as her\ninstructor.”

\n\n

And with that all of the men except Jorge left the cabin.

\n\n

Bossman went up on deck and laid in\na deck chair in order to get some early morning sun and sea breeze. While he had positioned himself near a porthole\ninto the cabin and could well hear what went on below, in reality he was deep\nin thought, remembering how his life had ultimately led to this.

\n\n

His mother had been a strange woman, in many ways much ahead of her\ntime in the islands. However, on the\ndownside, she’d also named him Wolfgang Bernhard Spring for Christ’s sake,\nafter Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, the writer of Faust. She’d loved to read Faust and even had memorized\nlongs sections of it.

\n\n

He’d loved his mother, but that didn’t prevent him from realizing\nthat she might have been a little insane. \nAnd even though in school he went by “Wolf”, his full name was one that\nwas difficult to live down in the islands. \nThere had been many fights, but he’d survived…..

\n\n

Jorge waited until the men had left, deposited the bag he had been\ncarrying by the chair and then walked over to where the girl was still standing,\nher posture seemingly making it clear she had in fact yielded herself to another.\n He reached out and gently lifted her chin\nin order to look at her, she flinched only a little at his touch.

\n\n

Acceptance is not submission; it is\nacknowledgement of the facts of a situation. \nThen deciding what you're going to do about it.

\n\n

-Kathleen Casey Theisen

\n\n

Jorge surprised me when he said, “M, our relationship, its\ndifferent now from before. This morning,\ntoday, we start over.”

\n\n

“First thing,” he said, “you okay? \nYou look half dead.”

\n\n

My first response was to look at him as if he were crazy! What the hell did he even mean by asking me\nthat question? My second instinct was to\nthink how inappropriate his question was. \nSomehow I mumbled a reply, but even thirty seconds later I couldn’t\nremember what I said. I assume it had\nbeen something trivial and flip, something unassured, something totally venal,\nsomething a slave said to the man acting in place of her master.

\n\n

I was glad though, the exchange soon trailed away first into\nbanalities and then into oblivion. I\nglanced own at my hands and concentrated until the quivering stopped. Truly, how fucked up was it if I could not\nidentify my emotions and keep them in check? \nTaking a deep breath, I held it for a moment and then exhaled.

\n\n

I raised my eyes, looked at him and then lowered them again to\ngaze at my feet. I knew this may have\ncome off as a little overtly coquettish, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

\n\n

Jorge reached over to me and raised my face to look at him. He was about six feet tall, but in my heels I\nwas able to look him directly in the eyes. \nI carefully kept my eyes blank as he leaned forward and kissed me fully\non the mouth. His odor wasn’t strong as\nit might have been, his breath not as bad as could have been. I was surprised at this and although I knew I\ndidn’t dare be overtly rude to any of the men, I still pulled back from him a\nlittle.

\n\n

In response to my move, he leaned in even further, ending it by letting\nhis body rest against mine, touching me from thighs to groin to breasts. I was trapped, and then he kissed me even more\ndeeply. My stomach flipped then, but\nsomehow I forced myself to remain motionless.

\n\n

For some odd reason, I was the one who felt embarrassed for him.

\n\n

Pulling back, he said, “Woman, you have the soft mouth and men\nlike that. But you need to learn how to\nkiss a man, how to please a man with your mouth. Right now, you kiss like you drive the trucks\nfor a living. We will start slowly today\nand you’ll concentrate on learning how to use what God gave you and which will ever\nput a man in your hands.”

\n\n

“Except us, of course.” And\nhe smiled.

\n\n

I looked at him in surprise. \nTotally inexperienced, I felt I had never been much good at kissing and so\nhad convinced myself I didn’t enjoy it, but he seemed to like kissing me. It would take a miracle for me to respond in\nkind.

\n\n

“I am going to teach you how to kiss, how to put your arms around\na man and make his whole world seem like it revolves around you. Your body is perfect and you look like you\nshould be Helen of Troy.”

\n\n

Since I had finally capitulated to Bossman and his crew, Jorge’s demeanor seemed to have totally\nchanged. His voice, his manner, his\naffect, all were different from before. \nIt was like he was a different man. \nI was amazed. He sounded like a third-world\ncollege professor, almost courtly and dignified.

\n\n

But while I had realized that our relationship had changed, I still\ndid not understand that the context of our relationship had also been modified. On the other hand, what he didn’t understand was that under my compliant exterior, I still\nhad the urge to castrate him with a dull spoon if ever given the opportunity.

\n\n

“And then I will be teaching many other things too. When you and I are finished, you will be a\nmagnificent acquisition for any man.”

\n\n

And with that last, I came back to earth with a thud. I didn’t trust him at all, but I’d still almost\ngotten lost in his voice and his eyes. I felt the stirrings of panic because I’d…..I’d\njust wanted to lose myself in them for some reason!

\n\n

He wasn’t a particularly handsome man, but he wasn’t bad looking either. He was in good shape, he’d shaved this\nmorning and his teeth and breath were okay. \nBut it was in his voice and eyes that he had his major weapons, and I’d\nbegun to get lost in them.

\n\n

That would not happen again, I vowed to myself.

\n\n

He began to lead me to the chair and it was then he noticed my\ngait was rather stilted and I moved my hips moved both sparingly and tightly. When he asked me why, I told him about the\nblack rubber plug I still had inside me. \nJorge immediately told me to go into my bathroom and “…remove the\ncontemptible thing”.

\n\n

“One of your beauty,” he declared to me, “should not be forced to\nprostitute yourself like that.”

\n\n

Hardly believing my ears, I went quickly into the bathroom and\ngingerly removed the plug. I was finally\ngetting used to its size and could not believe how empty its removal made me\nfeel---but I was glad to have it out. I\nalso was thankful to him for letting me remove it in the privacy of the\nbathroom, rather than out in the cabin. The\ngaping emptiness left behind took some time getting used to.

\n\n

Because arrogance is born in personal vanity, arrogant people are\ndriven without mercy. They can never get\nenough power to fill the soul's needs or enough respect to overcome the fear\nthat they deserve less than they are getting.

\n\n

-Lewis B. Smedes, in Love Within Limits

\n\n

Up on deck, Wolf thought back to the time that it had started for\nhim. Long ago, as a gangly teen, he’d been\ndevastated by a youngish white woman that had visited his island and then\nleft. She was older than he, just\nstarting her career as a CPA working for a large corporation in the US. She’d come into his life first as a visitor\nto his island, then into his village and home and finally into his bed and his heart. In the space of three short weeks she’d\nconquered him.

\n\n

They’d spent every waking moment of every day together. He thought she’d loved him and he knew he’d loved her. They’d talked about their future and what\nthey would do together. He’d go to\nschool and they’d live here in paradise where everything was cheap and they’d raise\na large family.

\n\n

But when her vacation ended, she’d left. Worse, she’d mocked him, his home and his mother. She’d frankly told him she could never, would\nnever consider living here with him and that she had a career of which to think. She’d let him know that it had been difficult\nat times to not betray her mirth at him. \nAs a matter of fact, she’d assured him, he was laughed at a lot by the\npeople who surrounded him. The worst was\nwhen she told him that “…she could never be seen with him in New York or LA or\nanywhere else that was civilized, not the way he looked.”

\n\n

He’d never forgiven her the pain she had caused him. Years later when he’d finally gotten his\ndegree in psychology, he understood her…and himself. He found he actually did not like women very\nmuch. In fact, as he delved deeper into\nhis own psyche, he began to find things that were not particularly accepted by\nsociety.

\n\n

What he found out about himself was that he was hardwired for\nsexual sadism. He was aroused by women’s\nsuffering, not necessarily physical torment, but their emotional suffering,\npsychological suffering. Humans, he\nlearned, in general always found some sort of bondage and submission to be\nsexually arousing to them. It pushed the\nsexual arousal systems in the brain; blood pressure went up, hearts began to\nbeat faster and a dopamine surge flooded the brain as the arousal level\nincreased with the novelty of the situation. \n

\n\n

He took the things he had learned about himself and about others,\nand filed it all under future interests. \nBut he never forgot the woman….. \nAnd as he began to accumulate wealth, he had a private detective look\nher up. She was still somewhat attractive,\nbut he saw she’d done him a favor by leaving him. However, he still burned with anger at what\nshe’d done and he vowed he’d look until the day he died for a way to hurt her\nas she’d hurt him.

\n\n

This much he believed to be true and he had found it out over thirty\nyears ago: life sucks, and when your heart gets shredded—if not completely calcified---then\nyou die.

\n\n

That is, of course, unless someone offers you a new start at the\nprecise moment in which the darkness allows you to totally re-think your moral\ncode. That was when he had been taken in\nby the “Old Man”. It was he who had\ntaught Wolf how to do what he did, how to observe and to plan, how to make\nback-up plans for back-up plans, and most of all, how to safely sell white\nflesh.

\n\n

It was the winners that wrote history and the winners that defined\nmorality. There were no bad guys, any\nmore than there were good guys. There\nwere only smart people, and stupid ones; puppets and puppet masters. And those who controlled their emotions. Morals were all to be taken in context, he\nthought to himself, and he’d never looked back.

\n\n

When I finally returned from the bathroom, Jorge led me by the\nhand to the chair and after he sat down, he motioned me to sit on his lap. When I did, he reached up and turned my face\nto his.

\n\n

“We are going to work on how you kiss, be it man or woman. This is a time of gentleness, a time of\ntenderness, above all, a time to be slow. \nSlowly lick your lips for me.”

\n\n

I did as ordered.

\n\n

Bossman was thinking about his\nplans to conquer and subjugate the girl once known as Victoria, and he took a\nmoment to play them back in his mind. \nSubmission as freedom, thirst as desire. \nFor the first four days, he’d played her like an instrument, gently\ncaressing the notes at first, then building towards a frenzied crescendo.

\n\n

She’d been\nconsumed, and I had worshipped my prey.

\n\n

“Damn,” he wondered out loud, “where did that last shit come from?”

\n\n

Somewhere deep in hell Wolfgang Goethe was laughing his fat ass\noff. Wolf thought of the girl and,\nalthough he was not sure how it had happened, he knew he now looked at her as something\nmore than just new meat to be sold. \nDespite this realization, he was also determined he would own her body and her\nsoul before he left the boat. He would bind her soul to him. Forever. \n

\n\n

And even though in a way he’d become one of those men he most despised—weak\nand emotional; a hawk, or better yet, a wolf who had begun to feel just the\nslightest pity for his quarry---at the same time he would do anything necessary\nand nothing would sidetrack him from the pursuit and total domination of every\npart of the blonde teenager he now controlled.

\n\n

Surrender to your fear\nso you may triumph over it. Choose me,\nopen you soul to me, and embrace the Devouring.

\n\n

-Simon Holt, in The Devouring

\n\n

I no longer looked at these men as perverts. That was old thinking, thinking in which I\ncould no longer afford to indulge myself. \n

\n\n

Jorge took my hand and caressed it. He leaned towards me and said, “When you kiss\nme, put your hands first on my chest. \nLean in to me and softly pull me towards you with your eyes. Slowly, looking into my eyes, turn your head\nslightly and press your lips against mine. \nClose your eyes.”

\n\n

He whispered in my ear, “Be a woman for once, not a callow\nteenager. A woman of passion. After a moment, open your lips slightly and\ninvite me in, slowly, using your tongue as a welcome. Breathe when he breathes and softly explore\nyour partner’s mouth as he explores you. \nTake your time. There is plenty\nof time. There is always plenty of time\nto make the love correctly.”

\n\n

I was amazed. This man had\nbeen so brutal with me two days ago and had seemed like the worst sort of\npig. Now he seemed like he was one of\nthe worlds most experienced and tender lovers. \nFor some reason, as much as this\nsurprised me, it gave me a quick, fuzzy good feeling. He hadn’t used the word bitch, cunt, whore, or\nslut one time and it seemed like he’d morphed into a new personality with totally\ndifferent mood and vocabulary—a persona much more suited for the language of\ntraining in love. But what truly amazed me\nwas this morning he acted like what he’d done to me over the last few days\nhadn’t happened---it seemed like he really thought we were starting over\nfresh—with no history between us. My\nlips thinned and I smiled a predator’s smile. \n

\n\n

I shook my\nhead to clear it; it seemed more and more like strange thoughts just kept\nintruding into my consciousness, without warning. But at the same time, I was also aware that I\ndidn’t want to delay anything and offend Jorge by making it seem that I didn’t\ntake him seriously.

\n\n

I took a couple of deep breaths, talked to myself, anything to build\nmy courage and to give myself time to remember what he’d said. Finally ready, I leaned forward into\nhim. His left hand was around my waist while\nhis right hand slowly slid up from the inside of my right knee to the top of my\nthigh and then back down, always caressing me, always appreciating the\nslickness of my nylon-clad skin.

\n\n

I wanted to\nplease him, so I slowly kissed him as I thought he’d instructed, taking care to\nuse my tongue in what I thought was a sexy and enticing way…..

\n\n

Suddenly, he pushed me back and said, “No, no, no! I said use your tongue to entice him to you,\nnot like a matador using his sword to kill the bull. Slowly, softly, with tenderness and much\nanticipation. Again!”

\n\n

I closed my eyes, took several deep breaths through my nose to\nsettle my stomach. I swallowed, gulping\ndown my fear, then did it again. After a\nshort hesitation, I concentrated on slowly leaning into Jorge again, this time\nproceeding much more easily and with what appeared to be much more eager tenderness\nbarely controlling my desire. His hand\nresumed its caresses of my thigh and after a moment, it slowly explored upwards\nuntil it could go no further. There he\nlightly probed the increasing wetness that was me.

\n\n

Suddenly, he pushed me back again and said, “You little\nvixen. That last, it had more than a\nlittle promise in it. Oh, you are a very\nbad girl! Or a very quick student. Which is it?”

\n\n

I was surprised to feel myself breathing faster than normal, feeling a touch of pleasure at his pleasure. But at the same time I knew that this was\nnot what I wanted and certainly was not what I’d expected. I was certainly unprepared to answer his accusation. I reminded myself again that I would not,\nmust not lose control. This man, this\nsituation was not to be trusted.

\n\n

“I must decide,” he said as he pulled me towards him for a third time,\nlike a child testing candy in a candy store. \nSlowly, he kissed me again and we both held it as our mouths and tongues\nmet. His hand was now between my legs\nand I found to my surprise that without being aware of doing so, I had\nwillingly spread my thighs for him. He\nsoftly explored me with his hand as our mouths became more familiar with each other.

\n\n

We kissed slowly and softly. \nI didn’t want to, but we did. Amazed,\nI found myself holding on to him, leaning into him and….opening myself to\nhim. He continually touched me as we\nkissed, running his hands over my thighs, between my thighs and then up my belly\nwhere he would cup and caress my breasts. \nAs I sat in his lap, I could feel his erection pressing into my thigh. I was breathing more heavily now, but his\ncontrol amazed me. It was mine which\nconcerned me.

\n\n

Finally, Jorge put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away, more\nback on his knee. And then his hand went\nback to stroking my thighs and vagina. \nHe looked at me for a second and took a deep breath, “Today you begin\nyour training in learning how to bring pleasure to men. You are a very sensual woman, more so than\nyou realize, and already I know from last night that you enjoy the sex. That part will be easy for you. It is surprising how many women find that part\ndifficult after we have taken them, but for you that will not be the\nproblem. There will be some hard lessons\nfor you to learn and there will be some maybe not so bad…..much of your\ntraining will be physical. But you’re a\nbig girl and will be able to handle the pain of the discipline, of this I am\nsure.”

\n\n

I looked away from Jorge as he said this. I’d just changed my mind even as his hand\ncontinued exploring my body---I wouldn’t use a dull spoon to castrate him---but\nrather, I’d use a weed eater on him. On all\nof them. Although I had known that my\nlife would be totally different once I committed to them, I hadn’t really had the\ntime to think through many of the details yet. \nHis talk frightened me and his hand between my legs---the pleasure it brought frightened me too as\nit continued to do what it had been doing for so long.

\n\n

It is easy to reform a woman's character once she is in the collar

\n\n

-John Norman, in Vagabonds of Gor

\n\n

“Much of your training’” Jorge continued, “Will be learning how to\nleave aside your wants and needs, learning how to not only accept pain, but to actually\nneed it, to desire it in order to let it define who you really are on the\ninside. I have taken women like you for over\nthirty years, and I know you better than you know yourself, girl. And what I know right now is that eventually\nyou’ll learn to absorb what we give to you. \nDiscipline, punishment, is essential in helping a pleasure slave like you\nget to better know your Master. You will\nlearn to take in the pain offered by your Master, because you will finally\nfigure out that by doing this…that is\nwhat will please your Master. From this\npoint on, for the rest of your life, giving your Master pleasure is what will give\nyou pleasure. Remember this! And if his bringing you a little pain is the\nprice to pay to make him happy, then you will learn to pay it gladly. That is a slave’s discipline. A good, trained pleasure slave that is truly\nsubmissive always wants to please her\nMaster. Once you learn this, it will\nmake you happy, it will make you whole—you will surprise yourself in this, I\nhave no doubt.”

\n\n

His damnable hand had never stopped the whole time he talked. But what he said frightened me even more his\ntouching me. I had thought at first he reminded\nme of my grandfather—I blushed at the thought of making love to the old man who\nhad died so long ago. But as Jorge\ntalked, my reality came back to crush me and I knew I had been fooling myself\nwith this man. He was not necessarily a\ncruel man, but he was willing to use cruelty to achieve his goals. The odd\nthing was that part of me had already known this--that this was acceptable to me.

\n\n

Right now, I knew that I\nwas his goal. He had an agenda from\nwhich he had never swerved; making me the trained property of another man. While charming now, he would do anything\nnecessary in order to turn over a finished product to my new Master.

\n\n

Me? I vowed I would work to\nacquire the polish on the outside he wanted me to have, but I would also never\nchange on the inside where the true “me” existed.

\n\n

Jorge interrupted my train of thought, “The Master/slave\nrelationship is not what you might have thought it to be. Fiction is always less interesting and more\nmundane than reality. There are many\ntypes of Masters. Some actually own their\nfemales, as your Master does. Others\ndevelop an equitable relationship in which each voluntarily pleases the other. It’s like a day job. They live their lives, then come together\nwhen it pleases them. Some Masters are\ndrawn to this life because they like to give pain exclusively, others are more\ninterested in the give and take aspects of a relationship which is in every way\nnormal except for the boundaries to which both have agreed.”

\n\n

Jorge looked at me and shook his head. “As a purchased pleasure slave, yours will\nnot be a consensual relationship. You\nwill be kept by your Master wherever and however he chooses to keep you. You will no doubt however, eventually develop\na relationship with him. All good\nMasters learn what their slaves are like and use that understanding to\nstrengthen their relationship. I\nguarantee you are going to a good owner. \nThis not a man given to random brutality.”

\n\n

Jorge’s hand continued to stroke the inside of my thigh and to\nplay with my clitoris. I closed my eyes\nand leaned in towards him. Although in my\nmind I didn’t want it to be this way, I was\nwet between my legs for him and a dark part of me whispered that this was as it\nshould be. The more he fuzzed my\nclitoris, the more bothered I became. This was not the way an almost virginal freshman\ncollege girl acts, I thought to myself, one\nwho had been forcibly brought here only a\nfew short days ago. What had\nhappened to me?

\n\n

Jorge’s voice broke into my meditations, “Once a slave and her\nMaster have been together a little while, they will develop a relationship that\nis unique to them. I will tell you this now;\nI will be watching how you handle yourself with the men on this boat. That will be a sign as to how you will be\nwith your Master.”

\n\n

“But I warn you! Soon, you\nwill come to think you know us. And you\nwill think that to know us is to be able to take….liberties.”

\n\n

Jorge had seemed to have difficulty in finding the right\nword. “You are immature. Believe it or not, you will soon adjust to\nthe routine that is laid out for you here; you will become….if not comfortable…at\nleast familiar….with the situation, and eventually you will come to think it\nwill be okay to play silly games to fool us. \nMaybe act a little challenging or even a little spoiled---for that is\nwhat you are now. You come from a\nprivileged background, you are pampered and spoiled. That all ends now! You may fool us some of the time, but you\nwon’t be able to fool us all of the time.” \n

\n\n

“The relationship between a submissive pleasure slave and her\nMaster should never be reduced to games by the willfulness of a child. There will come a time when you not only won’t be afraid of being hurt, but you\nwill seek out discipline. I guarantee\nit! When this time comes and you need\nattention, then you will ask your Master. \nIf you need to feel the pain, if you need the discipline from your\nMaster, then let him know! He will\ndecide if what you have is a need or a desire, and then he’ll choose whether or\nnot to fulfill it as he desires. That is the key thing, doing things as he desires. I repeat, do not play games with your\nMaster.

\n\n

“Now, my dear M,” he said in a soft voice, “we are going to change\ndirections here for a moment. You’ve\nbeen bad, most bad; a very willful girl who has not been following my orders at\nall. You do know you need discipline, to\nbe punished?”

\n\n

I almost shook my head in bewilderment; I felt I had entered some\nsort of alternate reality. It was like\nhe had gone into some sort of RPG, a Role-Playing-Game or something. He had assumed yet another persona. Truly at a loss, I felt like a character out\nof an awful movie as I replied, “Master, I have done everything you have asked me\nto do. Why do I need to be punished?”

\n\n

Jorge grinned as he ran his hand over my right knee, his hand apparently\nreveling in the slippery feel of my leg. \nHe grudgingly admitted, “Well, maybe you haven’t been too bad, but you\nstill need to be disciplined before we go any further. Stand up and lay down over my lap.”

\n\n

I had done nothing wrong! I\nlooked at him, “I…over your lap, Master?”

\n\n

“Do not make my repeat myself, slave. Over my lap---NOW!”

\n\n

Hurriedly, I stood up and then laid myself over both of his knees\nwith my head to his left. I looked up at\nhim with questioning eyes. With that,\nJorge reached down and pulled a small riding crop out of the sack and put it\nnext to him. My stomach flipped as he\nreached down with his hands and brought both of my wrists up high behind my\nback. He was able to then pin both of my\nwrists together and hold them with only his left hand.

\n\n

I let my head drop. I was\nlooking down at the floor when Jorge gave me a light smack on the buttocks with\nhis right hand. I yelped and jumped with\nsurprise at the soft blow. I also intuitively\nknew it was not one meant to hurt me, but rather was a warm up, a taste of what\nwas to come. It was something to focus\nmy mind.

\n\n

Jorge slowly ran his hand over the cheeks of the girl’s ass and\nthought to himself how truly beautiful she was. \nHe’d been in a bar one night following her in Cancun when he’d overheard\none woman remark to another that this one had an ass like a horse. It was not meant as an insult in the islands,\nbut a compliment. Her ass truly was\ngorgeous to see, and he felt privileged to be able to see her naked like this.

\n\n

He continued running his hand over her body, beginning at the back\nof her left thigh just above her knee and slowly sliding his hand up the back\nof her stockinged leg until he reached her ass. \nHe felt her relax at his touch, at which point he spanked her\nagain. This time he hit her hard enough\nto leave a small red mark. She made no\nsound this time, but just jumped on his lap again.

\n\n

Now he put his right hand between her legs from the back and cupped\nher vagina for a moment, after which he took his middle finger and slowly\ninserted it in her asshole, where he left it for a second. The fit was rather loose because of the butt\nplug she had been wearing. To him, a not\nvery inviting entry into her body which had been artificially enhanced. Still, this was not her, it was what they had\ndone to her.

\n\n

Then he pulled his finger out of her body as his hand wandered\nback down the inside of her thigh and back up, all the while moving in slow,\ncaressing motions. When he next hit her\nass, he used a lot more force and she cried out in shock and real pain this\ntime. She turned her bewildered face\nback up to him, but still never tried to get off of his lap. He liked the fact that she submitted to this\nas he desired—it showed much promise for her.

\n\n

“M, my dear,” he purred, “You are just in the beginning of the training. I know you want me to stop. But why on earth would I want to make the stop\nnow?”

\n\n

She did not reply, but just let her head hang down and looked at\nthe floor again. He watched closely as\nshe blinked away tears.

\n\n

Finally, after five minutes of spanking her with his hand alternating\nwith caressing her lower body, he picked up the riding crop once more. The next blow to her ass brought her head up with\na real scream of pain and more tears in her eyes.

\n\n

She still lay on his lap\nwithout any struggles, but she now shook her head ‘no’ and was vocal. “Please, Master,” she begged, “you’re hurting\nme. Please. Please.”

\n\n

Jorge replied, “You knew exactly what I was talking about when we\ntalked about discipline. You will lay here\nand accept what your Master tells you need. \nIf you fail here, you will be put back at the beginning and be treated\neven more harshly. You well know, in\nyour mind, that if you try to escape the cane, you will only wind up paying a\nheavier price in the end.”

\n\n

And with this he laid into her again. This time, the crop left a sharp red welt\nacross both of the cheeks of her ass and evoked an involuntary scream of pain accompanied\nthis time by another arch of her body on his lap. As she looked up at him this time, unshed\ntears sparkled in her eyes.

\n\n

This went on for another ten minutes. Jorge continued to keep my wrists pinned high\non my back with his left hand, while with his right he either used the crop on me\nor put it down and stroked my body. He\nhit me on my lower back, my rear and on the backs of my upper thighs just above\nwhere my stockings ended.

\n\n

Once he even laid the crop parallel to the crack of my ass and\nthen slapped my tender anus. I couldn’t\nhelp myself---I howled and arched up that time, making my highest bow yet on\nhis lap before I could control the pain and my emotions, before I finally lay\nback down again. Every now and then he\nwould stop and stroke the back my legs, fondle my vagina or slowly stick a\nfinger inside me from the rear. These moments\nwhen I knew that his free hand was otherwise occupied with my body brought gasps\nof relief from me.

\n\n

With every stroke of the crop, my head would arch up and despite\nmy determination to not do so, I finally begged him to stop. “Oh God. Ohmygod. \nOwowow! Owww. Please, Master. Ooowww. \nOh God, it hurts. Please. Stop.” \n

\n\n

But he would not.

\n\n

Towards the end, she had fallen somewhat off of his lap and more\nonto his knees. Her buttocks now were a\nuniform rosy red offset nicely by a series of slightly darker red welts that\nwould look unsightly for a day and then disappear. But what Jorge found amusing was that when he\nhad begun using the crop in earnest, her pelvis had almost immediately begun\nwrithing on his lap. And by the end of\nthe spanking, by the end of being disciplined, she was unconsciously grinding her\npelvis into his right knee in a slow, rhythmic, totally sensual way. His erection was remarkable. He felt like he was forty-five again!

\n\n

For me, the spanking at first did not cause much pain. But it truly embarrassed me. I felt there was really something wrong with\nbeing spanked as an adult; yet I could see\nwhere the idea of that wrongness was somehow at the same time also deliciously\nerotic---it somehow pleased my Master and this was supposed to make me feel\ngood. I accepted the concept that my submission\nto the pain he brought me was what was what gave him pleasure. Now I just had to accept the reality.

\n\n

I didn’t necessarily enjoy the pain, but at the same time I honestly\ncouldn’t help but enjoy the way he explored my body as he spanked me.

\n\n

It was here also I found a new understanding of myself; I discovered\nI had the ability to somehow separate my body from my mind. I discovered my body’s natural responses to a\nphysical stimulus (his hand between my legs) were entirely acceptable to\nJorge. But more important to me, I found\nthere was a part of me which was able to step back and look at everything\nobjectively….a part which never seemed to lose control?

\n\n

A part of me still rebelled. \nIf I was ever to beat these men, I would have to make sure I never lost\ncontrol again. I may never escape them,\nbut that didn’t mean I would always be at their mercy either.

\n\n

However, these semi-erotic feelings fled when Jorge finally began\nto lay into me in earnest with his riding crop. \nHe would hit me and then wait, sometimes touching my body, other times\nhe would not wait. At the end, I was\nbegging him for real to stop hitting me. \nI hated being spanked like this, but Jorge’s words went round and round\nin my head. Even though I had been\nspecifically warned about false behavior, I knew now I would have to learn to pretend\nto like being hit this way just for my Master’s pleasure.

\n\n

While it was my rational mind that told me to eventually begin\ngrinding myself into Jorge’s knee to distract him a little, my mistake had been in not realizing how\ngood too, it would feel to me.

\n\n

Up on deck, Wolf, Captain Luv, listened to Jorge work with the\nvictim previously named Victoria and he was pleased. He grinned to himself; while she could fight\nit all she wanted, the girl’s submissive genes were dominant. He’d felt for a long time that this one’s\nmake-up would drift that way.

\n\n

She’d make a beautiful prize when completely trained.

\n\n

In the end, all I knew was that my ass hurt, my pussy was wet, and\nI didn’t care who knew. Jorge may have been\nover fifty while I was only nineteen, but I knew my body had still responded to\nhis stimuli just as we both had known it would. \nI knew without a doubt my mother and aunt would have screamed their horrified\ndisapproval of my actions, but at that point I just did not care.

\n\n

Jorge too must have felt much the same way, because after another five\nminutes of spanking, he finally gently pushed me away from him and off of his\nlap. With difficulty he stood up and led\nme to The Bed.

\n\n

“You,” he said, “are already unclothed. You will please to undress me.”

\n\n

I hesitated for moment until I understood I had no real other\noptions. With that understanding, I\nbegan to unbutton his shirt. When done, I\nhelped him take it off. Then I unzipped\nhis pants and unsnapped them, letting them drop to the floor around his\nankles. I knelt and removed them from\nhim along with his sandals. I sniffed;\nhe was old, but did not smell old.

\n\n

My mind was filled with a rushing sound. It was blank, I had no thoughts. My body was working on trained reactions\nalone. Standing up, I slowly inserted my\nfingers around the tops of his underwear and tugged them down over his hips,\nletting them drop to the floor. I had\ngone into a slight crouch to remove his underwear. As I\nlet go of his underwear and stood upright, I noticed my right hand trailed “accidentally”\nover his erection—the touch between us was electric.

\n\n

He stepped out of his briefs and then led me towards the side of The\nBed.

\n\n

Having watched the news that morning, Bossman was on the verge of regretting somewhat his decision to\ngive the new girl the TV. He’d watched\nthe coverage of M’s kidnapping and with a little surprise realized it seemed to\nstay in the headlines rather more than he’d anticipated.

\n\n

Much of this was due to M’s photogenic Aunt Samantha. The woman was extremely attractive and media\nsavvy, and a real pain in the ass. Driven\nby love in this crusade, she was determined to recover her missing niece. If M were ever to become aware of Samantha’s inordinate\nability to play the media and keep them focused on her, he feared this might\nslow her learned responses to his training regime.

\n\n

He’d watched Samantha on numerous television interviews and had finally\nbegun to get a handle on her. When\ngiving television interviews, he knew that here was a woman who was fully—he\nmight even say gleefully aware--of how she changed a room when she walked into\nit.

\n\n

Tall and lean in a designer jeans sort of way, blessed with the\ngrace of a dancer, long blonde hair flowing in liquid billows that somehow\nachieved slow motion even as you watched, explosively kinetic green eyes which\nappeared to run in the family and flirtatious lips that appeared equally\ncomfortable with a coy grin or a pensive pout. \n

\n\n

Her lips were what ordinary men saw when their dreams crossed over\nthe line from legal to illegal, naturally swollen with a pouty attitude and framed\nwith dimples that misled you to believe in a sweetness somewhere underneath.

\n\n

But here was a strong woman too, not a sweet one. Most painfully beautiful women are anything\nbut complicated. But Samantha was. She was a walking enigma. When on Cancun before finally taking M, he’d\nhad the older woman investigated thoroughly along with the remainder of M’s\nfamily.

\n\n

As a result, he knew she was far too dangerous to attempt\nacquisition, so he’d reluctantly given up on Victoria’s Aunt Samantha. But M must never know that much of his threat\nto her family was bluff or he would lose the leverage he continued to need for her\ninitial training. But he thought to\nhimself, once he’d had M for a month, she would be his for good and he wouldn’t\nneed any extra leverage after that.

\n\n

This Samantha is a dangerous woman to us, he thought to himself. A dangerous man filled with machismo himself,\nit pained Captain Luv to have to admit any woman might have bested him in any\naspect of life. Still, he thought he\nunderstood the aunt’s motives. Although\nhe had experienced it himself only fleetingly a long time ago, a smart man\nrealizes the strength of love as a motivator. \n

\n\n

There were many different kinds of love; sappy love, romantic\nlove, flippantly misrepresented love (“I love ice cream!”) and there was\nlust. But in these modern days, rarely\nis love considered as a galvanizer, as a world-changer, as a bond or a purpose\nor as a belief. However, history showed\nthat the great people, the ones who are remembered, are almost never motivated\nby self-interest or even pride, but rather are often motivated by love to do great things.

\n\n

Through it all, he knew this aunt lived for her niece, the young\ngirl getting fucked half to death at this moment in the bowels of his boat. This aunt was the one who had kept the girl’s\nstory alive on TV and in the newspapers. \nM was her motivation and her purpose. \nHe repeated to himself indulgently, this aunt is a dangerous woman to\nus. She is strong; what a great\nacquisition she would be despite her advanced age.

\n\n

But he knew that that would never happen. What you could not have, you wanted to possess.

\n\n

Maybe go a different route? \nBodies were always available here in the islands or South America, at\nleast for the right price. Find a young\nwhite girl who had died of natural causes and substitute that body for his\ncaptive’s. Some blurry photos, a few\nbribes to police and some data substitutions in the decrepit forensic labs on\none of the islands, and the DNA would be proclaimed as Victoria’s. Tell the family and that fucking bulldog\nSamantha that the body was too badly decomposed to keep and had been cremated.

\n\n

Rather simple really, even if not totally believable. But it would be enough to sidetrack the\nhounds. And with that, he put the aunt\nout of his mind.

\n\n

All that can be said is that Jorge was in surprisingly good shape. While he was not as large as Wolf, he was\nhard and ready to take the girl with what he knew was far more than enough to\ndo the job. Helping her onto the bed,\nJorge slowly got on his knees beside her; she on her back and he down by her\nfeet. Glancing down, he saw that her\npainted toenails were visible through her sheer black hose---for some reason he\nabsolutely loved that look.

\n\n

He slowly reached down and picked up her left foot. He had been stroking her legs for what seemed\nforever, but now Jorge wanted to see if there were any spots on her legs that\nwere sensitive to a man’s touch. Gently slipping\nhis hand around her ankle, he undid the buckles of her shoe and let it drop to\nthe bed.

\n\n

He’d always loved small, dainty feet, especially on big women. He looked at her foot and then bent down and\nplanted his lips on her sole. M squirmed,\nnot in discomfort, but he kissed her foot even harder. In his mind, he admitted that the feel of the\nnylon on her legs and feet was driving him crazy, likewise he thought he could\ndetect a response to his caresses in M’s body. \n

\n\n

It seemed she did like\nto have her feet kissed, so he gave the sole of her foot a long lascivious lick\nwith his tongue. Her foot arched\ninvoluntarily and he knew then she had liked it, a lot, no matter what she\nmight actually say. Next he moved his\nlips up and slowly kissed her toes before he moved up to her ankles. He kissed her there, then continued running\nhis hands and lips all over the lower part of her leg.

\n\n

Taking his time, he worked his way up her leg. Gently pushing her knees apart, without any\nresistance, he lifted her left leg until her toes pointed at the ceiling. Glancing down, he noticed that the sole on\nthe high heel that he had removed was new and unblemished by walking on gravel\nor concrete. He smiled to himself: Bossman liked this kind of economy. He knew her high heels would pretty much always look the same, getting very little\nwear on the bottoms since her feet would be in the air most of the time when\nshe wore them. He snorted, it was an\nexaggeration of course. But one he knew\nthe men on the boat would fully support.

\n\n

Jorge was finally half way done with his explorations and,\naccompanied by the unexpected, but increasingly loud moans of anticipation from\nhis student, he let his mouth finally come to rest inside the back of her\nknee. He kissed her there softly and\nthen suddenly gave the back of her leg below her knee a long, loving lick with\nhis tongue.

\n\n

Jorge saw the visible shiver that ran down her body and he smiled\nto himself. He knew now that parts of\nher legs were going to be very sensitive\nto his manipulations. Just imagine, he\nthought to himself, how sensitive they might be if she weren’t wearing\nstockings.

\n\n

Oh well, he thought to himself with a small smile, we all have to\nmake trade-offs in our business.

\n\n

He wondered about the back of her knees. After he’d worked her there with his\nfingertips and then his tongue for a moment, she hadn’t seemed to react quite\nso strongly to his touch so he moved on. \nAction and reaction, observe and modify, this was how a man first understood and then changed a woman like\nthis.

\n\n

He wondered about the inside of her thighs just above her knees. Slowly, ensuring that he gave them the proper\nattention they deserved, he began to work on the insides of both the blonde\nteenager’s legs above the knee. He never\ntired of the tactile input. The feel of\nher nylons on his hands and fingertips remained a totally sensual\nexperience.

\n\n

She’d inhaled so quickly when he began his work between her thighs\nthat she’d actually hissed as she drew her breath in. After a couple of minutes, the girl was even\nmoister between her legs and her breathing rate had increased\nsignificantly. Okay, this one definitely\nliked a man massaging and licking and kissing the insides of her thighs. He somehow just knew she was finally ready for him in that magic area where her\nthighs met. But he wanted her to feel more\ntension before he went there.

\n\n

Jorge now moved even with the captive girl and laid on his right\nside so that he could look at her. He\nslowly caressed her left breast, eventually freeing it from its nearly non-existent\nconfines. He leaned over and kissed it\nand then took much of her breast in his mouth. \nBoth nipple and ring were at the back of his throat and as he sucked\ngently, he also worked the rubbery nubbin with the back of his tongue.

\n\n

There was a salty, yet sweet taste unique to her breast that he\njust loved. This beautiful young blonde\nhad the kind of nipples a man could suck on for days and never tire of having\nthem in his mouth.

\n\n

Although he generally liked his female slave trainees to be ringed\non both the nipples and the labia, he found that the golden metal through\nVictoria’s nipple annoyed him a little as he worked his tongue over her\nflesh. He knew Enrique had pierced her\nupon Wolf’s orders, but he himself would never have desecrated in that way a\ntemple dedicated to beauty such as this teenager’s body was.

\n\n

At the same time his mouth was softly enjoying her breast, his\nleft hand was again caressing M’s body. \nHe started low on the inside of her left thigh and as his hand moved up,\nhe again enjoyed the smooth, polished feel of her nylons on his fingers and\npalm. Reaching the top of her stockings,\nhe played with the coarser lace at the top before running his fingers under her\nnylon and stroking the firm flesh of her thigh. \n

\n\n

After slickly sliding his fingers down the inside of her thigh\nagain, his hand then began its sensuous journey back up her other leg, suddenly\nending where her legs met. He stroked\nher there for a moment before putting one finger inside her waiting moistness. While his hand and fingers confirmed the girl\nwas wet and fully ready for him, he was still not yet ready to take her.

\n\n

Submission is not about\nbeing used, submission is about being of use. Submission is not about what is done to you,\nsubmission is about what you do for others.

\n\n

-Unknown

\n\n

I had no idea what I was doing as my hands both went up on their\nown and cradled his head upon my breast. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help myself\nthen as I moaned deeply with each touch of his hand on the lips of my\nvagina. I could feel him down there and knew it was only normal that my body\nshould be responding to his touch. My\nhips were quivering, making tiny, very small jerking motions into his\nfingers. This response of my body, I\ntold myself again and again, it meant nothing….

\n\n

I knew that my labia were both tender and engorged at the same time--and\nmy vagina was secreting the love fluid that would make it easy for him to enter\nme---why did I find myself thinking that\nthis was the way it should be? God! I think I’m going crazy!!

\n\n

I wanted him to stop, I really did. But he wouldn’t and his mouth was\ncontinually working on the half of my breast that was buried in his mouth, it\nwas driving…me….crazy. Soon, he started sucking even more hard, even\nas he began flicking my nipple with his tongue. \n

\n\n

The tugging at my chest first began as a light touch, but soon\nincreased in strength and passion. I\nlooked down then, but then, and I am not sure why, I wished I hadn’t. All I could see was the top of his head\nmoving in small back and forth motions which paralled the suction I felt. Eventually, the pull from his mouth became\nalmost painful in its intensity and I couldn’t tell if I loved it or hated it--if\nmy breast was just tender from his attention or if he was actually beginning to\nhurt me. He must have realized his\nattention to my left breast was becoming too much because he released it from\nhis mouth and looked up at me with a languid smile. He then turned his head and used both of his\nhands to lazily release my right breast from the miniscule cup which still\nconfined it.

\n\n

I gasped with pleasure as he leaned over and took this one into\nhis mouth. My head snapped back at the\nfirst pull and I tried to keep the sound in. \nAt the same time, his left hand again slowly traveled back down, fingers\nlightly trailing over my stomach and finally onto my vagina, where he changed\nthe positioning of his hand so that he now completely cupped all of my\nmoistness in his hand. His middle finger\nslowly broke from the rest of his fingers and descended into me, probing with\ngentle movements of his wrist.

\n\n

I still couldn’t help myself—my body demanded it. A small groan escaped from me and I arched my\nhips quickly, making his finger disappear into me like a knife cutting into hot\nbutter. Without meaning to and watching\nalmost as if from a distance, I felt myself draw my thighs firmly together,\nbring my feet closer to my buttocks and raise my knees, all the better to keep\nhis hand firmly clamped in its place.

\n\n

“Not yet,” Jorge cautioned her. \n“Not yet. You get what you want\nwhen I’m ready to give you that\npleasure. That is one of the lessons for\ntoday.”

\n\n

He knew he was making her insane with his slow fingers and\ndemanding mouth—this was his goal. M\nwhined in frustration and tried to get his mouth away from her breast, but he\nwas merciless. Suddenly the kidnapped\ngirl got what she desired as she came in a mini-orgasm that wouldn’t stop.

\n\n

She just came without warning and then finally it was over.

\n\n

Jorge was annoyed with himself because he hadn’t planned on\nletting her cum for a while yet. But she\nhad just exploded beneath his mouth and hands. \nHe knew he would have to learn her body better, in order to more\ncompletely control her.

\n\n

M finally relaxed her thighs which still captured his finger\ninside her. He began his insistent\nmovements with his hand all over again, and he could see the fire begin\nbuilding inside her once again. Finally,\nhe let her breast fall out of his mouth—he took a moment to just look at\nher.

\n\n

He watched as a wave of red washed over her face. Being observed, like this, embarrassed\nher. He smiled to himself at her continuing\ninnocence.

\n\n

Both of her nipples were a wet puckered red and stood proudly\nerect. Bossman had already told him about the flush which developed on her\nbreasts and chest when she had lost herself in a total orgasm; with interest,\nhe saw her skin there was still of normal color.

\n\n

He knew his student had truly climaxed--there was no way that she\ncould have faked it—but at the same time, somehow she’d reserved something for\nherself, somehow kept herself from going all the way. So, he thought with a tinge of annoyance, she\nstill wanted to keep something from him, after all that he’d done to her this\nmorning? This was going to be more\nchallenging than he had first thought.

\n\n

He reached down and pushed her thighs apart again and then slowly\nclimbed between them. He looked down\nagain at her waiting, out-thrust pelvis and his hand this time penetrated her\npussy in unrestrained eagerness. His\nfinger slid up inside her, swirling and groping, sometimes pressing or stroking\nthat delicious spot women hid just behind their pubic bone.

\n\n

Her hips were jerking wildly against him finger. Victoria’s eyes were closed as she softly\nsighed, “Oh, Master! Oh God, that feels\nso good!”

\n\n

Inside, she asked herself, what\njust happened? What am I doing? Why did I do that? And she answered, God only knows.

\n\n

As an inexperienced teenager, she had read about it, but never\nbelieved it before now. Jorge had found\nher G-spot and was slowly working it to both her humiliation and her great\nsexual gratification. His fingers kept\ntaking her higher and higher.

\n\n

As he continued to touch her there, Victoria physically felt like her\nbody was part of a time-lapse film of a flower opening its petals---each time\nshe could finally begin think rationally once more, another petal would open\ninside her pelvis and her body would be claimed from her all over again. She instinctively knew this man was in many\nways the most dangerous of all of them to her freedom and yet, at the same time she wished that she could\nsomehow prolong this delicious moment for both of them as her hands\nfluttered helplessly by her side while his fingers did their magic work inside\nher pelvis.

\n\n

Jorge ignored her increasingly loud gasps of pleasure and\ncontinued to work her with his hands as she lay opened to him on the bed like a\nflower spreading its petals; her hands now flat beside her hips again. Her knees now willingly opened wide as he\nnudged between them. Jorge gripped his engorged\ncock and swung it softly upwards against her pussy, making a wet thump that\nsent shocks from her swollen labia throughout her body.

\n\n

He swung it again and again until she seemed somehow to have\nbecome used to the sensation. Sometimes,\nhe held it against her clit and drew slowly backwards giving her what he knew\nwould be a wonderfully pleasing sense of friction between her lips.

\n\n

He moved up further and the teenager’s nylon-clad thighs spread\nwillingly even wider for him as he sank onto the mattress between them. He remembered the times he had raped and\nsodomized her and knew a tinge of regret. \nNot because he had done it, but because he knew that to take a\nmagnificent female like this in that way was a blasphemy.

\n\n

But he’d had a job to do and he’d done it then as he was doing it\nnow. Jobs requirements may change, but\nthe journeyman’s skills remain forever.

\n\n

As M writhed beneath him, Jorge slowly moved his hips and finally\nmade the first thrust into her body. It\nwas not the full bore plunge her body desired and which his genetic coding\nscreamed for, but the restrained move dictated by his years of experience.

\n\n

He continued his short penetrating strokes, slowly building up\ninto more full bodied moves that involved his whole body instead of just his\nhips. With this move, he now slid over\nher sweaty torso with each in and out thrust of his hips.

\n\n

The captive blonde responded magnificently and even though\nuntrained, her body and her moves brought to mind what he read of the genteel\ndecadence of the French Court of three hundred years in the past.

\n\n

It was a sublime feeling to have the honor of taking a woman like\nthis.

\n\n

As he continued his deliberate moves that always promised deeper\nand deeper fulfillment in just a moment but which never delivered, I found myself\nagain losing all control of my physical being just like when ridden by Bossman. \nThat’s the only way I can describe it, I was being ridden by an erotic master\nagain and even though I instinctively fought against losing control, he had finally\nmastered my now willing body.

\n\n

But this time, I was mentally prepared to be dominated and even as\nmy body reacted honestly to his moves, I desperately maintained that tiny point\nof brilliant white diamond-hard restraint in my mind.

\n\n

Jorge slowed down and then stopped moving, keeping his student\nfully penetrated, but never giving her an excess of pleasure. He stayed this way upon her for a minute and\nthen began all over again. Twice more he\ndid this, taking her body up the crest of the volcano, but refusing to allow\nher to erupt.

\n\n

This was an important part of her training in submission; the\ninexperienced American learning that the will of her Master took precedence\nover her own needs, over any needs but his own. \nFinally, he began moving in a strong, animal-like fashion and it was\nobvious even to the girl that she was being ridden hard, that he was riding her\nall the way this time, taking her to the crest and allowing her, no, forcing\nher to go over it.

\n\n

The teenager exploded beneath him again, slamming her hips up to\nmeet his evermore urgent thrusts into her, subconsciously synchronizing her\nmoves so that she ensured maximum penetration of his erection into her. When she reached her last and most urgent\nclimax, she arched up to grind her loins into his and used her magnificent ass\nto keep them both off of the mattress for over a minute.

\n\n

After a final couple of quick hip thrusts into him, the girl\ncrashed back onto the mattress with a heartfelt groan of pleasure and laid\nstill beneath him; her lungs giving great shuddering heaves as she replenished\nthe air she had just used in her joust with him. Her climax had been real--she’d been his\nwilling whore this time.

\n\n

Jorge could feel her vaginal muscles still contracting upon his\ncock in an orgy of sensations and he whispered into her ear, “Slowly my dear,\nslowly. Too fast and you won’t be ready\nfor the next one.”

\n\n

I heard his voice as from a distance and couldn’t believe what he\nwas saying. His erection was still a great\nrigid bar buried deeply inside my belly and…he…had…not…yet….cum. While our bodies were both slick with sweat\nand we touched from chest to groin, we were physically connected only by his\nmanhood.

\n\n

He began moving his hips again and despite my body’s exhaustion and\nits weakness, despite my initial mental unwillingness to respond, I felt myself\nreluctantly beginning to answer his demand for me again.

\n\n

This time he did most of the moving and he was an expert. He rode me low and went for deep penetrations\nthat explored the depths of my womanhood. \nHe filled me and rode me high and used against me the friction of his\ncock rubbing on my clit—and it felt great. \nActually, it felt too good!

\n\n

Finally, in the darkest recesses of her mind, she knew what had\nhappened to her last night! She now knew\nwhy she’d lost all control. It was her\nclitoris that had betrayed her. While\nthe men on this boat had manipulated her and massaged her clit, they had not\ndone so to the exclusion of other acts---she knew now that they just hadn’t\ndone it long enough to have the full effect on her reluctant body. But last night, Bossman had spent more than enough time working on her; it was this\nthat had allowed him to be the first on the craft to enjoy the full consequences\nof his actions on her body.

\n\n

Victoria was a normal, healthy young woman and had masturbated\nmany times. Sometimes she used her\nfingers, sometimes she used a vibrator. \nBut she’d always found that her best orgasms by far occurred when she\ncame with clitoral manipulation. The\nonly problem was that it always took a long, long time when she did herself\nthis way, and it almost never occurred when she manipulated herself with just\nher fingers. For some reason it had to\nbe something other than her own fingers touching her before she truly lost\ncontrol.

\n\n

Just now, the position that Jorge had assumed on her had resulted\nin some intensely erotic sensations. And while she had this confusing urge to\nplease him by responding exactly as she knew he wanted, at the same time\nshe also knew that if he’d continued that motion for much longer, she’d have\nbeen lost. Again! She knew that she couldn’t let them do this\nto her again. This was a moment of\nextreme danger to her and she knew that she had to somehow regain control\nagain; to make sure that he hadn’t realized what he’d almost done to her.

\n\n

Dominance. Control. \nThese things the unjust seek most of all. And so it is the duty of the just to defy\ndominance and to challenge control.

\n\n

-Robert Fanney

\n\n

Making my legs writhe around his lower body in apparent helplessness,\nevery now and then I “accidentally” hooked him with my remaining high heel. He never seemed to notice, but he was soon distracted\nenough to change positions on my pelvis again. \nOnce I had gotten him away from my most sensitive area, I began to try take\nover.

\n\n

I arched my hips and reached under to grab his ballsack as it\nmoved in with his thrust; once I had it like this I began manipulating him with\nmy fingers. While this gave me a slight sense of regret as I knew I had just denied\nhim his goal, it made me feel good when I heard him groan in pleasure at my\nmove. With both a sense of\nanticipation and remorse, I knew if he allowed me to continue, he’d shoot his\nload into me a lot sooner than he wanted.

\n\n

But, looking deeply into my eyes, he made me stop by pulling my\nhands away from him in that way. I smiled\nback and still moved my hands continually, from being around his neck forcing\nhim to kiss me, to my fingers digging into his back and shoulders to finally grabbing\nhis ass with both hands and pulling on him, as if trying to drag another inch out\nof his cock and into me.

\n\n

Finally, he allowed it to go on again and in minutes, we burst together. Part of me just watched, the other part\nexperienced a truly wonderful series of orgasms while pierced by him. I felt him flex inside me as he lifted his\nbody off of me while keeping my hips pinned and my vagina still fully\npenetrated; the weight of his body finally preventing me from arching my hips as\nI liked to do.

\n\n

I looked deeply into his eyes and watched his face as he held\nhimself up by his left hand while his right hand slowly explored my belly, pressing\nhard against it to feel my abdominal muscles contract and then release with\neach of my orgasms.

\n\n

At the end, he had been hammering into me as if he wanted to kill me,\nlike some kind of a maniacal, medieval torturer. Suddenly, like an electrical circuit, the intense\nfeeling of pain/pleasure was complete from my cervix to my clitoris, from the\ntips of my toes to the top of my head. My\nnails dug long strips of skin from the back of his shoulders and my lust-filled\ncries of delight seemed to quicken him as he gave a final lunge that almost\ncleaved me in half…

\n\n

I gave one final wail of anguish and of satisfaction, and then it was over.

\n\n

When he had finally allowed me to cum this time, it was real, oh\nGod, was it real. Jorge was a skilled\nlover and I found I thoroughly enjoyed his touch, his hands and his lips, his\nflat belly tight against mine, my legs spread wide and the pressure of his body\nbetween them, the feeling of his semen jetting into me and the usual atomic\nexplosion of heat at the top of my vagina—these were all things I found I enjoyed—maybe\ntoo much.

\n\n

But there was still a fire there, an unseen battle between us for\nI knew what he really wanted was my total subjugation, my total loss of control. And this…this thing he wanted from me on\nbehalf of his master, I wasn’t willing to give to him… Somehow I had maintained that minor presence\nin my mind which still allowed me to watch and to judge his reaction to my body.

\n\n

I looked into his eyes and despite the pleasure we had given each\nother, despite the pleasure he had taken from my suddenly willing body, I was\nsure Jorge had somehow sensed my reluctance to allow him complete control.

\n\n

As M’s body finally began to quiet beneath him, he told her,\n“Tighten onto me with the muscles in your vagina, then release. Tighten, and then release. Go ahead, tighten slowly and then let\ngo. Concentrate on me, on pinching my\ncock and keeping it. Keeping it inside\nyou forever. Concentrate.”

\n\n

He exhaled in her ear, “Slow and Easy. Slow. \nAnd. Easy.”

\n\n

“Milk me; you desire every drop that is inside me. Use your muscles to grab me and then let go,\ngrab me and let go. Milk me for every\ndrop. Aaaahhhh. That is the way.”

\n\n

She was grabbing him with her vagina and it seemed she stroked almost\nthe entire length of his penis with her velvet fist. But at the same time, Jorge looked down at\nher and saw that she still did not have the flush he needed to see on her there. Still an amateur at deception, she hid\nthings, important things, a prisoner forced to perform.

\n\n

He however, was a professional and as such, would not allow\nhimself to be fooled by one of his captain’s captives, let alone an amateur. But he still was glad Wolf had given him this\napparently foolproof telltale about her body….and her mind.

\n\n

He lay on Victoria for a minute to catch his breath and plan his\nnext assault on her body. Ever the gentleman\nin bed, he kept his weight on his elbows and off of her.

\n\n

After a moment, he commented, “That felt very good, very\nprofessional. Are you sure you’re not an\nexpert, my dear?”

\n\n

“No, Master,” she answered with the slight smile that women the\nworld over have always used when the man they have just fucked has asked them a\nstupid question like How was I?

\n\n

“I’ve only ever had one man before…..coming on the boat.” She had answered reluctantly, yet with a\nraised chin and, unless he was greatly mistaken, a hint of pride in her\nvoice.

\n\n

“I find that remarkable,” he replied honestly.

\n\n

He changed positions, making her roll slightly onto her left\nside. He lifted her right leg and then gently\nmoved between her thighs, dropping her right leg down so that the inside of her\nsilky thigh was now draped over his left hip as he faced her.

\n\n

He instructed Victoria to put her hands down between his legs and\nto begin stroking his still moist, flaccid cock and his testicles. At the same time, this position also gave him\nunprecedented access to her pussy and he began to stroke her moist clit and rub\nher wet labial lips with his right hand while his left hand casually, almost\nabsent-mindedly, stroked her knee or the top of her stockinged right\nthigh.

\n\n

He never noticed that every time he stroked the beautiful\nteenager’s leg to the top where her labia met, she would stop talking or moving\nwhen his fingers moved over her clit.

\n\n

“M, you seemed more innocent than most of the females who have\nended up here. You’re a little different,\nyou started in a place much different from the usual women we take—the ones\ndestined to be enslaved for a man’s pleasure. \nMost of them have seemed more…’common’ than you. But you are here; your fate that of being forced\nto be with numerous men in ways that is uncomfortable or often seems disgusting. And yet, mentally you have begun to adjust to\nyour new life as fast as any of the women that we’ve groomed before you.”

\n\n

He stopped in order to think of how to put his thoughts into\nwords. “You really are a natural lover\nof men, but you just don’t know that of yourself yet. But you will…..you will quickly learn to love\nwhat your Master does to you. This I\nswear is true; your Master is a successful business man, and me? I have had many samples from which to compare\nin order to understand this of you.”

\n\n

He had a small, almost sad smile on his face as he said the last\nto her. He was thinking, we need more men. Better men, for this one. To do the job right.

\n\n

I instinctively knew he was telling me what he thought was\ntrue. The truth! Could anyone on this boat handle it? Trying to ignore what his hands did between\nmy thighs, I slowly turned my head and looked at him for a moment before I said,\n“Master, I think perhaps I am a better actress than you give me credit for. I’ll do what I have to do to save my\nfamily. In a while, perhaps I’ll even be\nable to say that I’ve found a new life I can somehow accept. Maybe I’ll even believe that if I say it\nenough. But I’ll never tell you I enjoy\nit or love it.”

\n\n

I looked him in the eye and felt a moment of slight doubt even though\nI had committed myself. I found myself\nraising my chin a little defiantly, perhaps a little too proudly, “Master, please\nbelieve me when I tell you I’m not trying to challenge you, but you can’t make me\nsay this about myself and I refuse to believe it. Like every other woman and girl who has ever\ngone through here before me, all I want is to be free and just left alone. I want to do what I want to do. And have no one, especially a man, to tell me\nwhat I have to do, what I must do.”

\n\n

“You know,” I looked at Jorge with a wan smile, “white slavery\nisn’t all that it’s cracked up to be in those novels I read years ago as a\nteenager.”

\n\n

Jorge looked at her sharply and said, “M, you still don’t\nunderstand---you don’t get to make choices for yourself anymore---and nothing’s\ngoing to change that. But what you’ve\njust said tells me there are still layers inside that you protect from all others. This is unusual for a slave of your limited experience…that\nafter what you have been through, you are still trying to keep something back, keep\nsomething small hidden for yourself.”

\n\n

Not surprised at her silence, he waited for a moment and asked\nagain, “Aren’t you?”

\n\n

Shocked at his insight, or perhaps at my stupidity for speaking so\nopenly, my eyes slid sideways to meet his gaze and I hesitated a long time\nbefore answering, “I’m not sure what you mean, my Master.”

\n\n

He gazed steadily into my eyes as he responded, his attempt to\nread my honesty open and unhidden, “You understand me perfectly, I think. You are one that needs to be mistreated in\nlove. You are the type of woman who,\nafter what we have done to you here and if you had your freedom, would always from\nnow on seek out angry and aggressive lovers.”

\n\n

My emotions flared as I answered, my voice tinged with anger, “I am a decent person!  Does any decent woman ever want to be taken by force against her will by strangers?  Has any woman ever come to you and said, I want to be drugged, kidnapped, dragged somewhere, tied down, branded and sexually assaulted! Not, that is, unless she’s mentally sick too?”

I continued my protests, “I’m not what you think I am.  I’m nothing like that…..”

His voice now rising, he interrupted, “You have no idea what we think you’re like, and frankly, unless it affects the way you respond to us here, we don’t usually give a shit what you’re like inside.  Really!  It’s what we turn you into that interests us---it’s your actions that count.  From now on, this is our, and your, new reality.”

The word reality sank into my like a dagger.  “Please, Master.  Whatever you see on the outside, whatever you may think you saw that night at T. O.’s, don’t believe any of it.  It totally distorts the real me, what I am on the inside.  I’m an ordinary, normal girl on the inside, with the same fears and hang-ups and problems as most women.”

I was losing his interest, “If you had daughters, they would be exactly like me….”

His head snapped up and he looked at me, looked into my eyes as I spoke, “It’s just that I happen to look a certain way and may have sometimes accidentally presented myself a certain way.  But the person that you believe I am, who you think you have here, is false, a façade, with absolutely no substance in reality.

Somehow I found myself begging this man to understand, this unknown, often brutal man with whom I had just made the most tender love, “Master, I’m a boring freshman college student.  I may look a certain way, but it’s an invention, something women have done from the beginning of time, something I’ve used only those few times that I wanted to be friends with a boy.  But the truth is, and I hate to disappoint you when I say this, the truth is I have seen that look in men’s eyes when they looked at me for as long as I can remember, and what most men wish me to be is not what I am.  Not on the inside.”

I truly was begging him to understand me now.  Both my hands captured his hand between my legs and pulled it up so that it rested on my chest.  “I’m no different from any other woman you’ve ever known.  Please!  You’ve got to believe me!  You must tell the Master.”

I almost screamed at him, “I led a quiet, decent life at home and school---I am a decent girl!!”

Now I sobbed, “I.  Am.  Decent”

I sniffed to keep back the tears that demanded to be released.  “And as for men, I feel towards them the way that most normal women feel.  Maybe one day I’ll find a man who cares for me as much as I care for him.  If I find him, I’ll want to marry him.  But the honest truth is I haven’t had anything to do with men, not the way the way you think, in over a year.

I hesitated then, not knowing if I was getting through to him.  “I know to you this is like a caricature of a teenage girl, but I have a life….that is….I had a life.  I have ever only been interested in myself.  I see that now.  I have only ever wanted to know who I am.  Can’t you see that I want to belong to me, not some man I have never met?  I want to be free, just the way you do.”

\n\n

There was a long, uncomfortable silence then as Jorge studied my\nface with a serious expression. At least,\nit seemed, he had actually been listening to me.

\n\n

Finally, he spoke. And as\nhe did, my heart fell. “Forget about your\n‘choices’, M. Forget about finding a\nyoung man to marry. Truly! Forget about these things! You’ll be given to men that are powerful and\nwealthy and you’ll do exactly as they wish you to do. You won’t be marrying any of them; and probably\nnone will even want to really get to know you.” \n

\n\n

He smiled then almost sadly, “It’s your innocence that will inflame\nthem and which makes you so valuable to us. \nThey’ll make you perform things for them the likes of which you have yet\nto dream, even in your worst nightmare. Later,\nafter your innocence has fled, plucked like an expensive orchid, they’ll just\nwant your body. And like I said, you’ll do\nexactly as they wish; you’ll do anything\nthey wish at that point, because that’s all you’ll have left to cling to. I do not wish to be coarse, but that’s what\nyou are to them now and will still be to them then, their beautiful blonde\nYankee fantasy ‘fuck-girl’ come true.”

\n\n

As he had previously instructed me, even as we talked, I had continued\nslowly stroking Jorge’s cock beginning at the top and pulling the skin down\ntautly from its circumcised head. At one\npoint, I had gotten emotional in my exchange with him and I had stopped my\nstroking motion and just gripped him as I talked. This quickly drew an annoyed glance from him\nand as soon as I had realized what I had done, I resumed caressing him again.

\n\n

“Master, you are so wrong in what you think about me. I have so many regrets now. My parents? I know I’ll probably never see my parents\nagain. Or my friends. And you know? I’d trade it all in a heartbeat to go back and\ndo that part at T. O.’s over again. I’d\neven stay here if that’s what it took.”

\n\n

“But I’d like to take away the pain that I’ve cause my parents and\nfriends. I’ve hurt my family so much\nwith my mistakes. I just want to go home\nagain,” I said fighting back my tears.

\n\n

“I want to see a light in my parent’s window and smell the violets\nmy mom planted in the flower garden, hear their voices and feel my arms around them…..just….one\nmore time.”

\n\n

Something I had just realized was that a figure once written\nabout, whether a Visigoth chieftain or serial killer, is never completely\nmissing. Yet a young woman like me, too\nyoung to have had time to accomplish anything and who was recorded only in the\nmemory of those who knew her, is truly gone, or at least would be when the last\nof those who could recall her were gone too. \n

\n\n

Woodenly, tears slowly running down my cheeks, I continued with my\nassigned task---I switched my right hand over to his balls and began to slowly\nand softly caress them and run them through my fingers, while my left hand\ncontinued deep stroking his penis as he had instructed.

\n\n

I finally regained control of my emotions. “You think I’m dishonest with you, but I can\nhonestly say that because of my time here, I’ve found I’m truly a different\nperson now on the inside. I’ve always\ntried to be an honest person. But I hate\nthe idea that someone thinks I am their property. I just hate that I’m so controlled and forced\nto do anything that any Master or Mistress might want me to do; that I’m passed\naround like a cheap sex toy.”

\n\n

My eyes flashed, “I just hate it!

\n\n

Jorge listened silently. \nThen he looked at me and said, “Be aware, M. You’re not making any more choices about your\nlife---no more worries about finding a boy to marry.”

\n\n

He looked at me intensely, “Words have meaning with us. And you? \nYou are playing games here with me again. Much of what you tell me may come from the\nheart, but there is dishonesty too. And\nmanipulation. I am not yet done with\nyou, and will figure you out.”

\n\n

At this point, his penis was fully erect again and was pointing\ndirectly at the beautiful teenage girl lying in bed with him, stroking him. Jorge was now ready to review again his\nprevious impressions with this beautiful prize.

\n\n

Rolling onto his stomach, he found himself between her\nthighs. He lifted himself up off of her\nand said, “M, I want you on top now.”

\n\n

The blonde closed her eyes for a second, and then rolled over to\nher right and got up on her knees. Jorge\nlay down on his back in the center of the bed and she hesitantly straddled\nhim. His erection jutted up towards her\npelvis and with a slight grimace on her face, she slowly, tentatively lowered\nherself onto him, using her left hand to pull the lips of her now dry vagina\napart while her right hand grabbed the shaft of his erection and guided it into\nher.

\n\n

As the head of his engorged penis slowly penetrated her, the\nAmerican girl’s face went up towards the ceiling and her eyes closed. She showed little expression on her face except\nfor what be the tiniest smile as she slowly sank onto him and him into\nher. Without, it seemed, her even being\naware of this, after a couple of rocking motions she’d stopped her descent onto\nhim when she’d taken in only about six inches of Jorge inside her body. She then began a slow up and down motion with\nher pelvis.

\n\n

Jorge put his hands on her hips and, with the exquisite timing of\none man’s need and many years of experience with captive female bodies, he\npulled down fiercely on her hips just as Victoria’s pelvis was descending.

\n\n

At the same moment, he thrust up sharply with his hips, fully\nburying his last two inches inside her belly in one plunging move. This act was rewarded by a heartfelt gasp filled\nwith what could only be grunted approval from his teenaged beauty.

\n\n

After a moment, Jorge reached up and grabbed both of her nipples\nand without brutality, slowly pulled each of them forwards, towards him. Thus encouraged, Victoria leaned ahead and\nput her hands on his shoulders, allowing her breasts to hang down freely into\nJorge’s face. Both of his hands went up\nto Victoria’s bared breasts and he slowly stroked them, concentrating on her\nnipples.

\n\n

Every now and then, he would pull one of her breasts down and\nabsorb her nipple and half of her breast into his mouth. Sometimes his hands would wander down to her\nthighs and he would stroke her legs slowly like one would a favorite cat. Clearly though, he derived significantly greater\nsensual pleasure from this than did she.

\n\n

Victoria’s eyes were closed and on her face she finally showed\nwhat looked like sublime ecstasy as she began to rock back and forth, moving\nher hips up and down on him. It only\ntook a few moments before Jorge had his second eruption in an hour.

\n\n

Although I had not achieved an orgasm this time, I felt his cum\nflare briefly, deeply inside me and I was\nconfused as I almost reveled in the feeling of satisfaction it gave me when I\npleased him this way.

\n\n

Don't shrink from nature’s\nbrutal perfection. Take joy in it.\nEmbrace it. Understand it and revel in\nit. Respect its strength, its wisdom, its\nbrutality and its all-encompassing power. The highest law has always been, and shall be,\nnature; and the greatest wisdom forever lives in and through nature's eternal\nFascism.

\n\n

-Boyd Rice, in Standing in Two Circles: The Collected Works

\n\n

Both rested for a moment and then Jorge looked at the wall clock,\nnoting it was time for her to get cleaned up for the next crewman. He looked down on the girl and felt the\ntiniest bit of possessive sadness that she was to be passed around like this. This would affect her for the rest of her\nlife. Yet, if he were to be honest with\nhimself, he knew the melancholy was not because there was any goodness left\ninside him. He was old enough to be her\nfather, her grandfather. But rather, these\nwere selfish feelings, due to him not being able to keep her all for\nhimself.

\n\n

He helped her stand upright and turned her to the side. Victoria wobbled on her high heels and clung\nto him for a moment in an effort to maintain her balance after which she stood by\nherself once more. He looked at her then\nand all he could see was a beautiful young girl standing alone, forlorn, her\nface confused and looking like nothing so much as a small, lost girl-child\ndressed up in adult’s clothing.

\n\n

He dressed, telling M to “make herself clean for Roberto,” since\nhe would be visiting her next. With\nthis, he left the cabin. As he walked\naway and climbed into the sunlight of the beautifully cloudless day, a touch of\nsadness remained. Yet now it was mixed\nwith delight, a physical delight with how drained this beautiful young woman left\nhim feeling. She had taken everything\nhe’d had and then begged for more. They\nreally did need more men if they were to train her properly.

\n\n

She was a marvel---and yet still remained a challenge!

\n\n

After taking off my babydoll top and removing my heels, I\ncarefully rolled the stockings from my legs and tossed them aside. It was early and already I felt\nexhausted. I slowly walked to the\nbathroom on unsteady legs, my knees were still quite wobbly from what Jorge had\nforced my body to endure and my feet felt like they were made of lead. There was a cold, slickness between my thighs\nwhere I could feel his essence draining out of me. I thoroughly washed myself of Jorge’s multiple\ngifts and then walked back out to put away the stockings and lingerie I’d left\nbehind.

\n\n

They thought they were turning me into a slut and that there was nothing\nI could do about. My God, it was just\nthe opposite—I was cooperating as much as I could, but to be their whore, not\ntheir slut—despite my kidding myself about what was going on here, motives\nstill mattered. Still even more shocking, even more surprising to me was the fact that\nthere was any measure of satisfaction I could feel by pleasing them with my\nwhorish acts.

\n\n

What was going on, what was wrong with me? What was this all about? This was not me. I was not this way normally—I was…not…this….way! \n

\n\n

Was there any truth in what Bossman\nhad told me, “It must all be in the context?” \nI didn’t think so, because I was pretty sure nothing he said could be\nconsidered true.

\n\n

Regardless of the almost incoherent thoughts mashing their way\nthrough my mind, by the time I had finished cleaning myself, I saw The Demon was waiting for me, his dark\neyes glittering with anticipation. I was\ndeathly afraid of this man and as soon as I saw him, I assumed my best position\nof submission.

\n\n

I hadn’t had time to brush my hair or even freshen my makeup. But apparently this was okay; he was\nimpatient and showed it in his roughness as he pulled me by my hair towards The\nBed where he’d stacked his selection for me. \nHe was a bastard all right and I cried out at his unnecessary brutality. But his impatience worked for me too, as I\nreminded myself he had not ordered me to put the hated black rubber plug back\ninside my body.

\n\n

I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes and shuddered. Paralyzed by dread, I watched him strip down\nto his underwear, the bulge at his crotch looking like a boulder, a long boulder.

\n\n

I wanted to beg him, to plead with him; I didn’t deserve this, I hadn’t\nwanted this, why me I wanted to ask him, why me. But I remained silent,\nfor this was not the more easily manipulated Jorge--my pleading died in my\nthroat as I looked at him.

\n\n

What he had selected for me today appeared to be a black rubber\nbody suit and mid-calf black boots with five inch stiletto heels. In addition, he had what looked like a two\npiece mold made out of plaster, a bag which turned out to contain fine black\npowder and a large rubberized hair net. On\nthe side of The Bed, there was also had a small bag which contained some things\nI couldn’t make out.

\n\n

With him standing immediately behind me and leering over my\nshoulder, I carefully held the suit up and looked at it. When I finally stepped into it from the back,\nI knew the rubber suit would tightly encase me from my ankles to high on my neck,\nexcept for where a few sections were “missing”. \n

\n\n

There were two holes cut in the front of the suit where my breasts\nmust go, but they were much too small for one of my figure. I would have to force my breasts through both\nholes and the rubber would then tightly constrict them at the base. I was sure this was no accident, that he must\nhave had the holes sized like this on purpose. \nIt might seem more exciting to him, but it would just make my life even\nmore miserable than it already was.

\n\n

The area around my vagina would also remain uncovered, as would my\nrear. This gave the suit a distinct\nWyoming cowboy “chaps” look for which I sincerely did not care. The suit was closed by laces which ran up the\nback while its sleeves ran from the shoulder to mid-thigh and had zippers with\nwhich to be opened and closed. With a\nsinking feeling, I knew this was how he would bind my arms.

\n\n

By donning this suit, I would be making myself helpless and completely\nplace myself at the perverted monster’s mercy---the worst part was that I\nalready knew this one felt no mercy for me. \nFinally, I saw that there were 2 two-inch wide thick leather straps sewn\naround the chest of the suit, one above and one below each the breast\ncut-outs. Right now, they hung loose in front\nand had Velcro buckles on the ends.

\n\n

Still afraid, but resigned to endure whatever he may do to me and with the forlorn and oddly inappropriate hope\nthat by giving him pleasure with my complete cooperation he might show me some\nsmall measure of compassion, I slowly took off my nipple chain. I knew I was dragging everything out by\nmoving so slowly now, and so did The Demon.\n

\n\n

With a snarl of impatience on his face, he handed me a bottle of\nbaby powder. My stomach sinking, my\nfingers shaking, I slowly sprinkled the powder inside the suit legs and arms, this\nallowing me to more easily pull them onto my limbs. I had to struggle to get my breasts through\nthe openings in the suit, and when I finally had them positioned, it was\nextremely uncomfortable. The front of\nthe suit clung to my chest like a leach, it felt like a second skin. I’d been correct when I supposed that the rubber\nwould tightly constrict my breasts at the base. \nEven as I finished pulling the rest suit on I could already feel the\nblood supply to my breasts being cut off as they became more and more engorged\nwith trapped blood. I felt myself\nwithdrawing, becoming less cooperative and more sullen, yet I continued to\nfight my unbidden emotional response to this man, continued to try to remain\ncompliant.

\n\n

He was gonna hurt this bitch. \nHe liked hurting the cunts Bossman brought aboard. Roberto pulled on the ties in the back of the\nsuit, ensuring it fit her tightly everywhere like a soft, custom-made leather\nglove. Following this, he roughly rotated\nthe snatch’s slave collar until the ring on it was pointing towards the\nback. Increasingly filled with a feeling\nof what could only be anticipatory approval, he then had her put on the black\nboots which strapped tightly around her ankle just above her feet.

\n\n

The boots seemed to fit her well and had metal rings sewn to the\nback of the heel: they were obviously used to subdue the wearers feet whenever\nnecessary. The boots were awkward and\nhad even been painful for some of the whore’s to wear—he didn’t give a shit\nwhat happened to this slut as long as he got his nuts off. He watched as finally, without being told to\ndo so, she re-connected her nipple chain and stood up still facing the bed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned and\nfaced him.

\n\n

Roberto looked at her standing there compliantly, patiently, slavishly waiting for his next\nmove. He truly looked at her then and for the first time realized how beautiful\nthis girl was. Always before she’d been\nnothing more than a piece of meat, a mobile vagina and asshole waiting to be\nfucked. Of course, in his defense, that\nwas how he looked at all the bitches\nthey took.

\n\n

Her natural blonde color and flawless skin was magnified by the\njet black skin-tight suit she wore. For\nthe first time, he marveled at how it emphasized her tiny waist and full\nthighs, how it framed her gorgeous ass, how it immediately drew ones attention\nto her bosom. The vein-marbled white of\nher breasts stood in stark contrast to the total, infinite darkness of the\nsuit.

\n\n

Other slits had worn this suit too, it wasn’t something he’d\nbrought aboard just for her. But while\nthe others had looked at least as good in it, she had….something…the others the\nothers lacked.

\n\n

Shaking his head as if to dispel any further random notions of her\nbeauty or helplessness before him, Roberto roughly twisted her left arm and put\nit into its sleeve and zipped it shut. \nHe then did the same with her right arm. \nHe’d done this enough times before that the moves seemed almost\nmemorized.

\n\n

He led the now lost teenage girl back to the bed, telling her to\nsit down on the edge of it. He looked at\nher and took a deep breath—time to begin. \nWithout warning, he suddenly slapped her face. Hard. \n“You think you’re better than the rest of us, don’t you, you bitch?”

\n\n

“No, master, I don’t.” I had\nalready begun to sweat inside the rubber suit and my lips were quivering. I knew that right now I was as helpless, as defenseless\nas I had been at any time on this hell-boat, and in as great a physical danger\nas I had ever faced in my life. Yet even\nas I acknowledged the danger in my mind, I hated myself for showing weakness,\nfor replying with such an obvious pleading tone in my voice.

\n\n

With the rubber suit now completely on, even though I was willing\nto cooperate with him, I knew that I was also powerless to stop him from doing\nanything he wanted to do to me. This man\nhad the meanest eyes I had ever seen and I somehow sensed he wouldn’t hesitate\nto kill me if he thought it was necessary or that he could just get away with it. He, and the situation he had engineered,\ntotally intimidated and dominated me. \nTiny thrills of terror constantly ran up and down my spine.

\n\n

“You are white and think you’re better than us, don’t you?”

\n\n

“Please, Master,” I heard myself beg, “No, I don’t think\nthat. Please.”

\n\n

God, I hated myself at the moment. \nI was such a weak woman, a totally worthless person.

\n\n

He suddenly changed tack. \n“Do you like sex?”

\n\n

I didn’t know how to answer and hesitated before answering, “Yes\nMaster, I think I like sex…..”

\n\n

He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so that I had to look\nat him as he interrupted harshly, “That’s not what I asked you. Do you like sex?”

\n\n

Finally, I told him what he wanted to hear, “Yes Master, I like\nsex.”

\n\n

He looked at me for another minute without saying a word. “Bitch,” he said, continuing the line of\nquestioning, “Do you like having sex with me?”

\n\n

I didn’t know what to say. Bossman had told me to never lie, no\nmatter what I had been asked. But this\nman, he was an animal, a true beast. \nHe’d hurt me and enjoyed it. I\nhad no doubt he’d continue to do this to me again and again, until one of us\ndied. And I knew that one would be\nme.

\n\n

Desperately stalling for time, I looked at him and asked,\n“Master?”

\n\n

He repeated himself, “You are a particularly stupid slave,\nwoman. Do you like having sex with me?”

\n\n

I knew the correct answer for him was yes, but the truthful answer\nwas that I’d rather be forced to have sex with my father than have anything to\ndo with him. Just then this absolutely\ncrazy, totally wrong thought flitted through my mind that I was afraid to hurt his feelings, to disappoint him in any way.

\n\n

I froze then in confusion. Worrying\nabout his feelings. This was an\nabsolutely insane thought, totally irrational and senseless. Yet I answered him then and I have no other\nexcuse except for my burgeoning insanity. \nI reacted physically but my mind was not part of my actions, and so that’s\nwhy I found myself filled with such shock as I heard my disembodied voice say,\n“Yes Master, I like having sex with you.”

\n\n

Silkily, he asked me in a tone filled with unspoken layers of\nwarning, “Do you like making love to black men?”

\n\n

After hesitating for only a second, I replied, “Yes, Master. I like making love to black men.”

\n\n

“You are a stupid, stupid woman,” he looked coldly at me.  \"You don’t even know how to speak to a man the right way.  Nor do you lie well.”

Roberto shouted at me then, leaning in close so that his spittle flecked my face, “You have to learn how to talk like a real woman, how to talk to a real man and not the college weaklings you normally fuck.  You have a pussy, or if you’re feeling particularly nasty, you have a cunt.  When I finish with you, it will always be a cunt to you forever more.”

My eyes had filled with tears and he stopped then, his chest heaving with his agitation.  He took a moment to calm down and then continued, “I have a cock and you have a cunt.  Don’t play games when you talk about sex; don’t say ‘it’ to me, you always TELL a man you want his cock.  You don’t say you want it in you, you say you want him to fuck your cunt, or to fuck your pussy!  Understand?  This is such a simple thing for most women, but you American cunts just don’t get it!  Do you finally understand this, you stupid woman?”

I felt my eyes tear up again and I nodded my head yes.  I was helpless in front of this madman and the terror I felt inside was only multiplied when he yelled at me like this.

“And here’s something else, you stupid bitch,” he continued.  “You will be sucking on a lot of cocks while you’re here; don’t wait for one of us to tell you to take him deeper inside you, instead you take him deeper in your throat on your own, automatically.  Deeper is always better.  Do you understand this?  Is there anything about this that is intellectually too difficult for a stupid female slave like you to understand?”

I first shook my head first no, that it wasn’t too hard for me to understand, and then afraid he might misunderstand, I shook my head yes, that I understood what he had said.

He closed his eyes in exasperation.  “God, you are such a stupid woman, you cunt.  I’m going to love fucking you up when you forget it—excuse me, disciplining you.  You will learn obedience while on this boat.  Now, let’s try it,\" he challenged her.  “Talk to me.”

Closing my eyes helped a little.  My mouth was dry and I licked my lips to moisten them.  I opened my eyes then and looked at him as words went through my mind.  Finally, I took a deep breath and responded to his demand.  \"Fuck my cunt with your cock.”

Even I knew I had spoken woodenly, without emotion, like a talking doll whose string had just been pulled.  I hunched up, pulled my shoulders in then, waiting for his blows to begin.

He leaned forward and screamed into my face, spittle flying again.  “You stupid woman.  You’re a slave, here for nothing more than sex.  If you want a man to fuck a slut like you, you’d better learn to act like one too.  If a retarded woman like you wants to get better at this, you’d better learn to beg every man on this boat to fuck you until you improve.”

He grabbed my hair and twisted, forcing my head to the side at a painful angle.  “You’re the right age to have been a slut in high school.  But you are going to need to fuck more than one man at a time to graduate from this school.  The things you’ll learn will make any man watching you horny and you need to be able to please them all.  Now try it again,” he demanded.

This was awful, stupid and awful.  One part of me said they were nothing but words and I’d had little experience in that.  But I just didn’t like to talk about these things and had never liked to talk this way.  I knew it was both my nature and my upbringing that made me this way, and I knew he was doing this to purposefully humiliate to me.

Trying to embarrass me like this, I knew it was an attempt to change me, to coarsen me, to in some ways dehumanize my picture of myself in my own mind.  This was another of their efforts to beat me down emotionally as deeply as they had physically, to work on the new person they were trying to bring forth.

I closed my eyes again and this seemed to make it easier as I attempted to gather my thoughts, thinking about what I would say that might somehow please him, somehow make him stop.

By throwing together in my mind the foul words and actions he’d described to me, I made up a series of phrases that were essentially purposeless to me, at least at that point they were.  So, knowing these words could never hurt me because I was too strong, I closed my eyes then and recited aloud in a slow measured tone:

I love to be fucked.  Please fuck me.  I need a cock filling my pussy.  I need your cock in my cunt.  It feels so good when I’m being fucked.  I’ll even suck somebody else’s cock while you watch.  Please!  I’m begging you!

I opened my eyes then and stared straight ahead as I took a deep breath.  My face burned from the flush of blood in my cheeks.  The awful constrictions I felt around my breasts cut the flow of blood to them even more as I inhaled, but I ignored the painful sensations.  After a second, I looked at The Demon and he nodded his approval, so I continued:

\n\n

I’m a cocksucker.  I was born to suck cocks.  I love to suck white cocks.  I love to suck black cocks.  There’s no cock that I wouldn’t like to suck on.  I’ll spread for anyone.  I love being fucked.  I like being hurt.  I like being punished.  Oh God, somebody fuck me, please.

I had finally run through the litany of filth I had prepared in my mind and so I stopped.

\n\n

What I had just spewed seemed to satisfy The Demon temporarily since he now stood up and put a fairly large\nearphone over each of my ears and then put a thin rubber cap on my scalp,\ntightly covering all of my hair and my ears. \nHe then made me lie down on The Bed and laid my head in the lower half\nof the body of the mold.

\n\n

Next he forced a two-inch long penis shaped gag into my mouth and\nfastened the strap around my neck. \nFinally, he fixed the upper half of the mold onto the bottom half and\nlocked the two pieces together. I was\nfrozen in place! Claustrophobia rushed\nin from the darkest corners of my mind but I fought it back. There was a large hole in front of my face\nthrough which I could still look and breathe, so my anxiety remained barely within\ncontrol.

\n\n

The Demon now put on a small ear mounted\nboom microphone so he could talk to his victim. \nTurning it on, he asked Victoria if she heard him. She tried to nod her head, but it was frozen\nin place and she could not. Seeing her\njerky, limited movements and correctly interpreting them, The Demon proceeded to carefully reach through the two inch hole on\nthe top half of the mold and roughly insert a wide yellow straw into each of\nVictoria’s nostrils.

\n\n

The straws had soft foam molded rubber tips he pushed well into\nher nostrils, sealing them off around the straws. She tried to jerk her head away reflexively,\nbut was stopped by the weight and design of the mold encasing her head. The straws were about six inches long and seemed\nnot too uncomfortable as he inserted them. \nHe next grabbed the bag of powder and after adding almost a pint of\nsolvent, began to work the bag with his fingers, ensuring that its contents\nwere thoroughly mixed.

\n\n

Telling the captive teenager to keep her mouth and eyes closed, The Demon poured the thick black mixture\ninto the hole on the top of the mold; the viscous fluid flowed over and totally\ncovered Victoria’s face, then seeped around to the back of her head where it\npooled. With her face completely\nsubmerged, the only way she could breathe was through the straws in her\nnostrils.

\n\n

Immediately, a panic attack rocketed from my brain to my lower spine\nand from there back into my stomach and lungs. \nI couldn’t breathe!! I\nwanted to please him by lying still, but I couldn’t because for the first\ntime in my life I felt claustrophobic. It\nabsolutely controlled me, it totally dominated my every thought. I couldn’t breathe and tried to sit up in a\npanic, but The Demon leaned over and\nput his weight on my hips and belly, and held my shoulders down with his hands.\n My strength began to wane then and I\nfelt my struggles quickly became weaker as I ran out of air to breathe--in less\nthan ten minutes it was done.

\n\n

The Demon had mixed and poured\nfast-setting liquid latex into the mold. \nAs the chemical reaction began to heat up on my face, my gibbering mind knew\nit was beginning to harden. I continued\nto be consumed by claustrophobia, and, if anything, it somehow seemed to get\neven worse. As if from a distance, I\nknew The Demon was talking to me,\ntrying in his own clumsy way to calm me, but it didn’t do any good. I was held prisoner by a fearsome dread that\nwould not leave, and wouldn’t be able recover until I had conquered my fears on\nmy own.

\n\n

When I first realized what he was doing, in my frenzy, I tried to\nscream. But as soon as I had started to\nopen my mouth, liquid latex had begun to seep in. My whole body, especially my legs began\nshaking and I knew then I would die. \nDesperately, I closed my mouth, blocked my throat with the back of my\ntongue and concentrated on breathing though my nose, in and out, in and\nout.

\n\n

Finally, as the awful concentration required to just breathe like\nthis drove fear of him to the back of my mind, as my determination to not let\nhim finally win came back, these things began to drive away my demons.

\n\n

I will never know how, but somehow, in the end I was\nsuccessful. It came at great emotional\ncost. Finally, I was able to force\nmyself to lie motionless on The Bed, but I had been in a battle and could feel\nthe sweat pouring off of me in all the areas he had left uncovered. At the same time, I could feel a cold breeze\nblowing over my erect nipples and I knew I was trembling all over my body,\nbreathing and snorting for air only though the two straws.

\n\n

The latex around her head had finally set up and Roberto now removed\nthe halves of the mold and lifted the teenager up, talking into his microphone\nand ordering her to sit on the side of The Bed. \nHead now totally encased, the helpless girl sat there, immobile except\nfor her shallow breathing.

\n\n

The two yellow straws protruded from the grotesque mask of her\nface. Although blurred from the thin\nlatex film covering them, her fine features were still somehow recognizable\nwith her mouth looking as if it were slightly open in an unending scream that\nno one could hear.

\n\n

The straws were steadfastly held in place by the now firm\nlatex. If Roberto had been worried about\nher safety, he would have ensured she had a second way to breathe if her straws\never became kinked or collapsed. But he\nhad not.

\n\n

And when she later went over in her head what he had forced her to\nendure, the fact that he hadn’t done this spoke volumes to Victoria.

\n\n

Roberto pulled the high neck of her suit down a little and trimmed\nthe bottom of the latex mask around her neck. \nThen he pulled the collar of her suit up over her newly acquired mask\nand just below her slave collar. He next\ntightened the suit around her upper back again. \nExcept for her breasts and groin, and a thin strip down her back where\nthe suit laced, Victoria was now almost totally encased in black rubber.

\n\n

Roberto had used these suits before and knew he had to be\ncareful. A slut’s internal body temperature\nbuilt up quickly when the bitch was covered like this, so there had to be\nplaces for her body to vent heat. Heat\nmeant sweat, and he loved his women\nto have sweaty bodies.

\n\n

“I’m glad you like having sex with me, you stupid woman,” he said\nto her via the microphone, “Because you and I will be having a good time now.”

\n\n

A sound disturbed me as I concentrated on breathing. I was still trying to master my emotions and\ncalm my mind. Consequently, I barely\nheard The Demon when he spoke and\nwhat little I did hear was as if from a distance. The most important thing to me was that I was\nfinally beginning to get my breathing back under control.

\n\n

The rubber suit covered much of my body, and in an odd way, its\ntight fit almost felt….supportive. Yet,\nI also knew I was helpless, helpless even as the most intimate parts of my body\nwere uncovered, left open and exposed to this madman, thus was made available\nfor his intimate and unlimited use.

\n\n

A shudder of dread ran through me. \n

\n\n

Roberto looked at her gorgeous breasts. While some men were leg men, he was a tit\nman. He loved women’s tits, the bigger\nthe better. While not huge, this young\nteenager had absolutely magnificent breasts for her size and he was transfixed\nby them. The funny part was that she herself\nseemed oblivious regarding what wonderful tits she had.

\n\n

But they were beginning to get a darker red now. Yet they still jutted out from her rib cage\nwith no support and her erect nipples pointed accusingly at him. He thought this was hilarious—and sexy as\nshit. Her breasts were covered with fine\nbeads of sweat from both her previous exertions along with obvious her terror,\nso he leaned over and licked the sweat off of each, enjoying the salty taste of\nfear she exuded. She jumped at the\nunexpectedly rough touch of his tongue, and he laughed with delight.

\n\n

“Can you smell that? It’s\nyour fear. A very intoxicating\nscent.”

\n\n

Roberto watched her struggle with her fears for a couple more\nminutes and knew this was a strong one. \nBut he could handle that. Telling\nher what he was going to do on the microphone, he used his hands to guide her\nback down on the bed again. She couldn’t\nstruggle, because as soon as she made any effort at all, she ran out of oxygen.

\n\n

Reaching down to her feet, he quickly used the rings on the back\nof her boots to attach her feet to the bed posts at the foot of the bed. With a smirk on his face, Roberto thought to\nhimself she was familiar with this position—this he knew for a fact! He then tied a rope tightly from the ring in her\nslave collar to the head of the bed. For\nsure, this beautiful bitch was going nowhere without his permission.

\n\n

Roberto then sat on the edge of the bed and began talking to the\nkidnapped girl as he stroked her rubber covered body. “You, my dear,” he softly crooned into her\nearpieces, “belong to me now.”

\n\n

“I know you are afraid. \nThis is okay. That’s right, it’s\nokay to be afraid. You are strong. But you can be stronger. You need to take your fear and welcome it\nin. Take it and make it your own. That is the only way you will survive your\nfuture.”

\n\n

I was taking quick, shallow breaths trying to keep the blackness\naway. I was fighting a losing battle,\nsince I could hear the monsters raging in my mind. But in the distance, as if in a bad\nsoundtrack I could still hear The Demon\ndroning on.

\n\n

“Make it a part of you. You\nlearn do this with fear, and you will learn to do this with pain; I promise you\nthat you will become a slave in a million. \nNo, one in ten million. You have\nmuch potential.”

\n\n

Perverted bastard! Monster! No,\nshe corrected herself in the small part of her mind that remained sane, he was a fucking, perverted bastard.

\n\n

Roberto soon realized that the captive girl was not responding to him\nas she should, as he expected. He soon\nbecame enraged that even as restricted as she was, this arrogant bitch still\ntried to frustrate him. As he grabbed\nthe end of the straws through which she breathed and pinched them off with his\nfingers, he said, “Bitch! Listen to\nme! You act like a spoiled child, but\nyour time of being a brat has come to an end. \nRight now, you belong to me and I swear this to you.”

\n\n

What Roberto didn’t realize was that at that moment, I wanted to\ncooperate with him. My most fervent\ndesire was to give him whatever he wanted. \nBut I was as paralyzed psychologically as I was bound physically. With slavering beasts in my mind everywhere I\nlooked, I couldn’t have physically satisfied him at that moment if my life\ndepended upon it---and it did.

\n\n

As Roberto watched at this point, Victoria’s upper body was arched\noff of The Bed in her desperate attempts to get sufficient air to fill her\nscreaming lungs. Her feet made a\nhelpless tattoo on the mattress as she struggled. But to no avail, for her widespread, bound\nfeet and the rope attached to her slave collar ensured she would forever lay on\nher back on this bed for as long as he desired. \nSuddenly, a little life-giving air came through her only access to the\noutside world—he’d allowed her to breathe again. She moaned loudly.

\n\n

He looked at her sweaty breasts as her lungs continued to give\nshallow heaves, always begging for more air. \nHe watched her for a few more seconds and became aroused again. He leaned over and again licked her breasts\nclean of the sweaty film that had accumulated there. After this, he worked on her nipples for a\nminute.

\n\n

The whole time he was licking her breasts his left hand was between\nher legs, stroking her hairless vagina. \nHis thumb and index finger and captured her labia between them and\npursued a long stroking motion, like that which might be done if one were\ncontinually drawing a long line in the sand. \nLong stroke over slick, sweaty skin, fingers exploring and tracing perspiring\nfolds; another long stroke after the first. \n

\n\n

Finally, he leaned down and ran his hand between her legs and up\nthe crack of her ass, lifting her pelvis from the back and cradling her hips in\nhis hand for a short moment. She moaned\nagain—he knew then she must like him\ntouching her between her legs. Then he\nslowly released her and dragged his hand back from behind her and up over her\nvagina once again, letting his fingers slowly trail behind.

\n\n

He then reached back between her legs with his left hand and\nquickly ran his middle finger up into her asshole and put his thumb in\nVictoria’s pussy. The bound girl jerked\nat this move, but that was the only move of which she was capable. Using just this grip, he squeezed his fingers\ntogether and after a moment, he again lifted her pelvis off of the bed for\nalmost a minute before he then trailed his hand over her sweaty labia as he\nreleased her from his caress. He just loved working with a beautiful, sweaty,\ncompliant bitch like this.

\n\n

Reversing positions so his back was to her face as he straddled\nher stomach, Roberto leaned down over Vicki and put his hands on each of her\nrubber covered thighs. Leaning down even\nfurther, he put his mouth over the upper vee of her naked vagina where her lips\nmet her clit. Her hips continually\njerked as he sucked lightly on the flesh there before searching for the small,\nelusive button of feminine flesh. \nFinally trapping it, he lightly tugged on her clitoris as he took it\nbetween his upper teeth and lower lip. \nThen he moved his mouth barely away from between her legs and said into\nthe microphone, “Show me how much you like this.”

\n\n

But the cunt remained motionless except for the full body quivers which\noccasionally ran through her body, so Roberto leaned over and took her whole\nvagina in his mouth this time, putting his nose down near her ass. But he didn’t care about that because she had\na wonderfully musky smell to her pussy mixed with sweat and fear; it was a\nwonderfully sexy aroma.

\n\n

Roberto began sucking again and this time Victoria’s hips came up\ninto his face within fifteen seconds; finally she proceeded to grind herself\ninto his face. She stopped rotating her\npelvis into his mouth after a minute, but he supposed it was more because she\nwas heaving for air through her straws rather than that she’d had enough of his\nloving.

\n\n

Roberto continued talking to Victoria as he let her catch her breath. Always a man that felt he told the truth, he\nconfided he found her quite desirable this way and he hoped she was enjoying\nthis as much as he. He snorted then to\nhimself. If she was not, it was her\nfault because he was trying to help her understand how one could become always\nstronger through will power alone. If\nshe chose not to listen to him, then who was she to complain?

\n\n

Roberto also continued running his hands between her thighs,\nreveling in the sweat-slick feel of her now heated skin and inhaling the musk\nof her sweaty genitals. Finally, he knew\nhe was ready for the next step, and perhaps even the one after that too. The increasing urgency of her moans indicated\nto him she too was ready.

\n\n

I hated and\nfeared this man but I responded to his physical manipulations between my legs\nbecause I knew this was what would most please him. At this point, it didn’t matter how much I\nmight hate him too, I was terrified and would do anything to get this over. His sucking on first my clitoris and then my\nwhole pussy had actually felt good after a moment. And the fact that that was what he wanted,\nthat I had perhaps satisfied him even if only temporarily, somehow took my mind\naway from my situation--until I found myself heaving for air again.

\n\n

I felt The Demon connect\nthe ends of the strap that wound above my breasts in front. He tightened the strap to the point where I\ncould barely expand my chest to breathe. The\nDemon then connected the ends of the second belt that went below my breasts\nand did the same again.

\n\n

If at all possible, my situation now was even worse than\nbefore. In addition to the straws\nlimiting the air I could take in, I could barely expand my chest to breathe. Again,\ndark terror took over my mind as the now familiar clenching grasp of\nclaustrophobia grabbed at my lungs and ran through my body.

\n\n

I talked to myself constantly then, trying to calm myself, but it\ntook incredible willpower to keep with it long enough to have any effect. Finally, after what seemed like hours of\ninternal struggle, I was able to get myself to the point where I could begin\ntaking even, timed breaths as deeply (shallowly?) as was possible. It was torture to force myself to slow down\nenough to do so, but I knew without a doubt I was lost if I did not.

\n\n

I continued breathing slowly and regularly, trying to get enough\nair to breathe. After what seemed like\nhours but must have been only minutes, I again seemed to be able to get just\nahead of the oxygen debt I had accumulated in my struggles and responses to The Demon. Finally, the screaming claustrophobia that had\nruled my mind slowly began to recede ever so slightly.

\n\n

It was like my lungs were filled with alternating layers of stale,\nmusty air and carbon dioxide; and I could only breathe off the top layer. And that level was also the only one I had\nany realistic hope of replenishing as I took only the shallowest sips of air each\nstraw allowed me. No matter what I did\nin my attempts to please him, this hated man was a true master of torture.

\n\n

Roberto stood up and walked over to the cupboard near the head of\nthe bed and pulled out a red and a black candle. Pulling out matches, he lit the black candle\nand used the melted wax from it to fix the burning candle to the table in back\nof him.

\n\n

Next he took up the red candle from the table. This one he would use on her first, because\nhe most preferred the contrast of red wax on the straining and now reddish-white\nskin of her breasts. The beautiful\nbreasts that were marbled with light blue veins, then all encased in midnight\nblack rubber.

\n\n

Roberto leaned over and told Victoria in crooning voice, “Don’t be\nafraid. I am just enhancing your beauty\na little. There will be tiny little points\nof heat. Tiny, golden pinpricks. Enjoy feeling these slowly harden into\nexquisite patterns on your beautiful skin. \nYou may be a stupid bitch, but you are a marvelous, blank canvas.”

\n\n

He lit the crimson red candle and held it above her left nipple\nand slowly let the hot wax drip onto her unblemished breast. Some of the wax he let drip on her nipple,\nencasing it in its own crimson version of her black rubber suit as it\nhardened. Some drops were allowed to\nfall on the top of her breast, while others landed on the breast’s curve\nunderneath. Still other drops he allowed\nto accumulate on the ends of the gold ring that pierced her perfect\nbreast. He then turned his attention to\nher right breast and duplicated his painting in red wax.

\n\n

Their captive’s breasts seemed naturally tender from the way she\nreacted. They had been made even more so\ndue to the additional and enthusiastic attention each had already encountered\nfrom her “mentors” in this hell she now inhabited.

\n\n

Each small drop of wax that fell onto the bound teenager burned her\nskin and caused a brief pin prick of pain before it cooled. The large gobs and drips of wax that landed\non her breasts however, tended to run in rivulets and took much longer to\ncool. Each of these rivers of wax caused\nher a lot more pain than did the drops.

\n\n

Each hissing kiss of the wax, whether large or small, drew a\nshudder from her chest that made her breasts jiggle like Jell-O. This both amused and aroused Roberto.

\n\n

Finally, both breasts were about a third encased in hard, waxy red. Roberto then switched his attention to her\nvagina and pubic area. Large rivulets of\nhot wax running off of her lower abdomen and onto her clitoris made Victoria\narch and give out muffled screams of pain. \nA vicious cycle, this however, caused her to begin breathing too hard\nand she began a shallow hyperventilation again. \n

\n\n

Roberto continued with the molten wax on her labia, letting it run\nfrom the top of her vagina and follow the natural contours of her body as it\nended up near the crack of her ass. She\nbucked desperately and moaned loudly as he did this.

\n\n

Roberto liked this reaction so much that he switched from the red\ncandle to the black and began the procedure all over again. Black on red on top, and black on red on the\nbottom—a most auspicious beginning for this piece of body art.

\n\n

Roberto looked at his canvas and finally realized it was\nincomplete. It still needed a snowy\nwhite for the final contrast. Reaching\nover into the bag in which he’d brought the candles, he pulled out a bag of\nlarge marshmallows. Taking the still lit\nblack candle, he held up a marshmallow and lit it, eventually allowing strings\nof molten white to dribble on to her bare breasts, covering the hardened candle\nwax.

\n\n

Victoria’s bound body bucked futilely as white hot flame exploded\nacross her bare chest. While the affect\nwas superficial only, he knew the acid-like burn of the sticky, melted white\nsubstance lasted far longer than that of the wax. The bound teenager they had kidnapped began\nthrowing her body from left to right as far as the rope attached to her slave\ncollar would allow. Finally, after both of\nM’s breasts had been blessed in white, he stopped before doing her vagina.

\n\n

These would temporarily leave red marks on her skin.

\n\n

After waiting for several minutes, he crooned into the microphone\nhe would now remove her “color” and that she should remain absolutely still\nwhile he did so. “This is a test of how\nwell you have learned to obey. You see,”\nhe said, “I must use a razor blade to clean my canvas. Be very still bitch, it would be most\nunfortunate if I were to remove a nipple or perhaps circumcise you.”

\n\n

His voice finally beat its way through my haze of pain; I immediately\nfroze as I heard his words in my ears. \nInstead, I concentrated on taking in the necessary, yet small and inadequate\nsips of air his straws allowed through my nostrils.

\n\n

Finally, after everything else it was just too much, it was just\ntoo hard to continue like this. I felt myself\nbegin losing this unwinnable race and after a moment, I began seeing small\nwhite sparkling dots on the insides of my eyelids; then everything started\ngoing dark gray.

\n\n

I begged God for forgiveness and prayed my parents would find out someday\nwhat had happened to me---that I had not run away from them---that I had cared\nfor them right up to the end…….

\n\n

Wolf still sat up on the deck and listened as the moans from\nVictoria became louder and more insistent. \nIt had gone on for about thirty or forty minutes when he was deafened by\na sudden prolonged silence from below. At\nthis point, he quickly got up and went down into the cabin.

\n\n

There he saw Roberto pulling on Victoria’s nipple chain and her\nwax encrusted chest was arched up off of The Bed as far as it could go without\ntearing out the nipple rings. It looked\nlike he was getting ready to take a knife to her breasts.

\n\n

Her chest barely moved as she feebly tried to breathe through the\nstraws; M was clearly in great distress. \n

\n\n

Wolf roared, “What the hell are you doing?” and the sound of his\nvoice was carried clearly by Roberto’s microphone—Victoria heard it all in the\ndistance as she continued to fade now towards black.

\n\n

Roberto started stuttering and Wolf told him to “…get the goddamn\nrubber off of her face”. When he didn’t\nact quickly enough, Wolf leaned over and ripped a hole in the rubber covering\nher mouth, then quickly withdrew the gag. \nShe drew in a shallow shuddering breath. \n

\n\n

Looking at her, he asked Roberto, “Why isn’t she breathing\nbetter?”

\n\n

Roberto replied, “She’s strapped so that she can’t breathe too deeply.”

\n\n

Victoria thought she heard over his microphone the sound of Bossman hitting Roberto and then, “Get\nthe damned suit off of her NOW!”

\n\n

Roberto scrambled and began working on her. He began unstrapping the two belts around her\nchest which had so terrified her; the girl could feel him unclip her slave\ncollar and pull her upper body up. \nFinally, she could breathe again. \n

\n\n

Roberto pulled the two straws out of her nostrils and then began ripping\noff with his hands the thin layer of soft rubber that encased her face and then\nthe rest of her head. She pulled in deep\nbreath after deep breath. He looked into\nher eyes and saw a wildness in her pin-point pupils that had not been there\nbefore. In passing, he noticed her face\nwas extremely flushed and beaded with sweat.

\n\n

He then untied her feet from the bed posts and helped her stand\nup. She was unsteady on her feet and he\nheld her upright as he unzipped and freed first her left arm and then her\nright.

\n\n

When I was finally able to move both of my arms, I weakly pushed The Demon away from me. After removing my nipple chain with shaking\nfingers, I began trying to remove the hated rubber suit myself. But I couldn’t get at the back where it was\nlaced and I was stymied until Bossman\nwalked over and with a sympathetic look on his face, began unlacing her.

\n\n

He had saved me…. My life\nhad been saved by the man who led the kidnapping team!!

\n\n

Finally free, I kicked off my boots and threw myself out of the rubber\nmonstrosity, almost ripping out in the process the rings that still pierced my\nnipples. In the end, I stood sweaty and naked\nin the boat cabin. All that remained from\nbefore was the hair net and the ear pieces---and the multicolored wax on my\nskin, mostly covered in white.

\n\n

I took off the hair net and weakly shook out my hair. It was sweaty and matted, full of rats and\nkinks. My swollen breasts under the multicolored\nwax were still a dark reddish color due to the constricting rubber suit. Now that they had been freed and I was\nstanding upright they ached with the pain of a thousand needles. Just as bad, my vagina remained stiff from\nfront to back with dried strings of both red and black wax, wax that cracked\nand fell off with each move I made.

\n\n

After taking out the ear pieces, I looked at The Demon and began to walk towards him slowly. While unashamedly\nsubmissive all day up to now in my attempts to please this man, I also knew\nwhat he had just done to me demanded this one great act of defiance.

\n\n

Wolf saw the eyes of blazing green and the look on her face. He grabbed a handful of the girl’s hair as she\nstalked by, a furious look on her face. \nHe swung M around by her hair and slapped her in the face. Not hard, but in a way to ensure he shocked\ntheir captive out of her inappropriate rage.

\n\n

He said, “M, stop. I’ll\ntake care of this. I don’t think you can\ntake much more, and if you take even one more step it’ll be you that’s in\ntrouble, not him.”

\n\n

Turning, he said to Roberto, he said, “Get your stuff together and\nget up on the deck now. You’re off this\nboat in five minutes.” Roberto looked at\nhim for a second and turned on his heel and without a word left the cabin.

\n\n

Wolf turned back to Victoria, “M, if you’d hit him, it would’ve\nhave been you being punished. I would\nhave been forced to damn near kill you. It’s\nbetter this way. He was the newest\nmember of the crew and I’ve been watching him. \nHe’s gone for good now and won’t bother you anymore.”

\n\n

I suddenly realized that as his property, my anger had been both\nimproper and perhaps even dangerous. My\nbody was finally beginning to react to what I felt was my near-death and I was\nshaking all over from excess adrenaline. \nWithout any warning, my legs buckled and I dropped to my knees.

\n\n

My Master’s leg was the closest support and I hugged him as if\nonly he could save me from drowning. Sobbing,\nI buried my face into his thigh. After a\nmoment, I was able to look up at him and all I could think of saying was,\n“Thank you, Master. Thank you.”

\n\n

It was heartfelt and I looked at him in an entirely new light;\nhe’d saved my life—I was sure of it. I\nknew I was his property and had he chosen to do so, he could have let my die\nright there and then just dumped my body overboard---no one would have ever known.

\n\n

Master looked down at my matted hair and touched it softly for a\nminute saying, “M, you need to now it’s not over. You have almost an hour before Manuel comes\nto you. Get some rest. It shouldn’t have gone that far.”

\n\n

Wolf turned to leave when she collapsed, sobbing, onto the\nfloor. He gently helped her stand back\nup and walk over to a chair where she dropped bonelessly into it; her\nuncontrolled sobbing continued helplessly. \n

\n\n

Wolf then walked through the galley and up onto the deck where\nRoberto was waiting. He and Roberto\nwalked to the end of the boat where they could not be overheard.

\n\n

Wolf said to his man, “Here’s the extra money I promised you. Good job. \nI’ll have Jorge take you to the island in the runabout, and you can\ncatch a fishing boat back to the mainland in the morning. I have new meat coming through soon and will\nneed you again in two or three weeks---that okay?”

\n\n

“That’ll be fine.” Roberto\nsaid, but then he hesitated.

\n\n

“She’s tough,” Roberto commented. \n“Damned tough. I wasn’t sure she’d\nbreak, but in the end, she responded just as you predicted. In the end, they all do. Don’t they, Jefe?”

\n\n

“Yes,” Wolf replied absently without looking at Roberto, “in the\nend you all do.”

\n\n

I stared down at the floor of the cabin with the gaze of unseeing\nexhaustion. I was finding it difficult\nto understand that this particular trial was over. After a few moments in which I could not\ncontrol my crying, I finally got up and walked over to the bathroom where I\nblew my nose. I looked at myself in the\nmirror and began to cry again.

\n\n

Finally, I stepped into the shower and ran the water as hot as I\ncould stand it. I stood there for about ten\nminutes just soaking and washing my hair; after a few minutes my sobs had finally\nstopped. The moist heat helped me get\nmost of the wax and marshmallow off of my body, and I was able to use my finger\nnails to scrape off the rest.

\n\n

I was mentally exhausted and knew that no matter how much time I\nhad, it would not be long enough for me to be either mentally or physically prepared\nfor The Evil One. Strangely though, I just didn’t care at the\nmoment. I quickly toweled my hair and then\nused a hair dryer to blow it dry. I\nwalked out and swiftly brushed my hair, then like a robot I finished doing my\neyes before I did anything else.

\n\n

And this was how Manuel found me when he walked into the cabin.

\n\n

Although still feeling dull mentally, I immediately assumed the\nnecessary position. The first thing he\nsaid to me was, “Put your hair up in a ponytail. Now!”

\n\n

Trying to obey even though my muscles felt like they were made of\nrubber, I quickly began tying my hair back and after a little searching on the\ndresser, found a small band to put around my hair to hold it in place.

\n\n

He carried nothing in his hands when he walked into the cabin. When I looked up at him quizzically, he just\nlooked at me for a second and then said, “Where are the heels you were wearing\nwhen you decided to join us for this cruise?”

\n\n

Looking at him, I suddenly felt even more exhausted. I knew where they were, but had hoped never\nto wear them again. They represented a\ndifferent part of my life, a part that was in the past, a part in which I had\nstupidly assumed I owned the world and that what\nI did never had an impact on what happened in my future. I didn’t know\nif I could even look at them again without feeling revulsion. But it didn’t matter to The Evil One, he insisted I get them and put them on. And this I did.

\n\n

I now stood in front of him naked except for my collar, nipple\nchain and black high-heeled sandals with crisscrossing straps going up my\ncalves. Finally back to their normal\nmilky white color, both of my breasts were blotched by faint red areas from the\nwax and only fading reddish rings around their base remained to remind me of The Demon. In addition, there were a few small reddish\nblotches marking my groin, chest and even my nipples.

\n\n

Looking at these marks, Manuel asked, “Who fuck’ ya up, bitch?”

\n\n

My eyes were blinking furiously and I told myself, no tears, no\ntears. I felt myself blushing under his\nstare and not wanting to fall into any kind of trap, I replied, “I was last\nwith Master Roberto, Master.”

\n\n

“Okay; dat ‘splains dat.” After a hesitation, he said, “He doan\nlike you, I think.”

\n\n

Manuel now walked over to the bed and quickly undressed, after\nwhich he sat down on the edge and said, “C’mon here, slut.”

\n\n

I walked over and stood in front of him. He looked up at me for a second, then reached\nup and used my nipple chain to drag me down to my knees in front of him. It hurt a lot as he pulled me down to his\nlevel, but I kept my face blank as I tried to assume what I thought would be an\nappropriate position. One which would\nplease him, with my knees tightly together and my hands resting on my\nthighs. I did not look at him, but rather\ndown at the floor.

\n\n

“T’day,” he said, “I hab the ‘stinct pleasure of begin’ yur\nlessons in how to please a man wid yur mout’. \nYa got a gorgeous mout’, better be soft too. It is, ya make a spectacular slut wid’ it.” His lesson began almost as much with language\nas it did with physical training.

\n\n

“We startin’ at da ver’ beginin’. \nLook at me, bitch. Dat’s\nright. Take my cock in yur hands and\nstroke it, real slow like. Dat’s\nright. Ya see how a real man ‘ppreciates\nyur ‘tentions? Real men always gonna\nrespon’ dis way.”

\n\n

I obviously did not want to do this and it showed on my face. This annoyed him, so I guess he decided to humiliate\nme.

\n\n

“Now look at me an’ lick yur lips. \nSlowly lean into me down der an’ kiss my cock. Dat’s right, kiss it like it’s made of jewels\nan’ diamonds—you come from a wealthy family bitch, and know of the value of dem\ntings. Yah? Show me now yu value me as yur Masta an’ a\nman.”

\n\n

Both of his hands were on the top of my head, forcing me down to\nhis hips. His voice changed a little. “Dat’s right. \nNow lick real slow. Preten’ yur\nlicking ice ‘n cream cone. Lick it wit’\nanticipation! It yur pleasure to lick my\nice cream, no? Make sure you lick\nun’erneat’ and right on da tip. Ahhh, dat’s\nnice.”

\n\n

His penis and the wrinkled skin of his balls were a darker color\nthan the rest of him and his erection was quite large. He was circumcised and the veins on the\noutside of his penis pulsed and bulged with trapped blood. I tried to withdraw into that special place I\nhad discovered in my mind, but I still felt my eyes begin to brim with tears at\nthe humiliating way he was talking to me. \nHe smelled of old sex and unwashed skin, like he hadn’t bathed in\ndays. I fought nausea and was barely successful\nin keeping my bile down.

\n\n

“Now take it in yur mouth, slut. \nSlow, real slow. Ahhh, dat’s\nright. Yur doin’ well here; ya know ya\nlike whatever a man tells ya to do. Dis\nis da way it should be. It da difference\n‘tween bein’ a well-train’ mare an’ a wild mustan’. Da mare, she may not have as many options as da\nmustang, but she please her stallion a whole bunch more.”

\n\n

At his insistent tugging on a handful of my hair, I finally leaned\nover into his lap and began to work on him. \nHis head snapped back—I guess I did have a soft mouth—the thought\nmortified my. All he could see was the\nback of my head bobbing up and down on his pole and then I know he felt a\nliquid warmth on his lap as my tears fell onto the tops of his bare\nthighs. But I continued doing as he had\nordered.

\n\n

My time on my knees represented my first experience with oral\nsex. I was---or always had been---a very\nfastidious person, squeamish and fussy, particular to the point where people\nlaughed at me. I didn’t even like to\ntouch cigarettes, for God’s sake, or even put them on my lips. I had honestly never, ever felt the desire to\ntake a man into my mouth, let alone swallow his bodily fluids. Frankly, the last thought just disgusted\nme.

\n\n

But here I was, kneeling in front of The Evil One while he made me lean forward and take his foul\nsmelling erection into my mouth. Knowing\nI had no choice, I reluctantly kissed his stiff shaft and then opened my mouth\nand took him inside, tasting a man there for the first time.

\n\n

For some reason and without my being able to stop, tears of shame\nagain began flooding my eyes and falling on him. He was a large man, although not as large as Bossman and it was difficult at first to\nget the head of his penis past my lips, but finally I succeeded. He filled my mouth with his manhood.

\n\n

He kept his hand on the back of her head as he moved toward the\nmiddle of the bed, forcing her to follow him on her hands and knees like a dog\non a leash of hard flesh. Her unconfined\nbreasts hung down, swaying as she crawled up on the mattress after him, never\nallowing his cock out of her mouth. Whore\nlooked like a mongrel being trained for an absent master and she knew it. Uncontrollably, her eyes began filling\nagain.

\n\n

It was meant to be that humiliating, so he kept a grip on her pony\ntail and never let her mouth roam from his groin and what he desired.

\n\n

“Bitch, follow my cock like yur life depen’ on it. Ya bite me, even by acciden’, I swear I’ll\npull every toof in yur head. Never le’ my\ncock out yur mout’. It yur life. It yur reason for bein’. Follow it like some men follow da flag and\nnever let go. Dat’s right. On yur knees agin ‘tween my legs.”

\n\n

“Yur head, move it up and down, up and down real slow like. Ya take all me in yur mouth and suck ‘til I\nsay yu done. Dat’s right. Now take it deep’r in yur mout’. Deep’r, you stupid cunt. Deep’r. \nMore.”

\n\n

All of his language was designed to make her understand just how\ninsignificant she was.

\n\n

“OK, I’m gonna slide in yur throat and yu show me how well ya\nhandle my cock den. Dat’s righ’, you\nconcentrate on takin’ it deep and don’ gag, ya gonna git an ‘A’ yur first less’n. Concentrate on yur breathin’, no gaggin’ an’\nno vomitin’; ya do dat an’ I’ll beat da shit out of ya.”

\n\n

“Now take my cock in yur han’ and pull down slow-like on da loose\nskin as ya move up ‘n down on my cock. \nSuck hard all da time, when yur mout’ is full an’ even when it ain’t. But don’ let my cock come out yur mout’. Never! \nNot ‘til I say ya can.”

\n\n

He could tell that at first she wasn't quite sure what to do, but it\nseemed like she quickly caught on and finally began a clumsy and graceless\nsucking motion. Her cheeks looked hollow\nas she sucked on him, but then would regain their normal contours as he would\npartially pull out of her mouth. After a\nfew moments, Manuel withdrew from her mouth, but then quickly pushed his cock\nback in again. He kept going on like\nthis until he’d established a rhythm that was easy for her to follow.

\n\n

It went on like this for what seemed like hours. I sucked on him and stroked him. He hit the back of my throat again and again,\nand I hunched up reflexively as I felt the urge to gag each time, but somehow I\ncontrolled it. His cock was in me up to\nthe root and my face was buried in his bushy pubic hair. He smelled awful and I continually fought the\nbeginnings of nausea as I thought about what he was doing to me.

\n\n

Somehow I forced myself to go on even as his balls continued\nsmacking me on my chin. I desperately\ntried to do as he had said. I was somehow\nable to keep myself from gagging as he took his deep strokes into my mouth. Drool ran from the corner of my mouth and my\neyes were closed as he used his handful of my hair to crush my face into his\npubic area.

\n\n

My nose was buried in his black, curly, smelly pubic hair and\nevery time I breathed in, my nostrils caught the putrid smell of urine, sweaty\ncheese and old cum. Despite my nausea, I\nsomehow continued forcing myself to ignore his aroma. As he somehow pushed even\nfurther into me, I finally realized I could only handle him this way if I took\nit more slowly. So, with bone-crushing despair,\nI began to actually concentrate on sucking his huge, always pulsating need, and\nGod help me, eventually, after an eternity he finally began to cum in my mouth. I gagged then….

\n\n

Manuel didn’t care about the inexperienced bitch sucking on him as\nlong as she didn’t bite. Bad head was a\nthousand times better than none at all. He\nwas in heaven, fully involved in mouth-fucking the blonde, teenage whore, and as\nhe got closer, his motions became quicker, more agitated, even as his English became\nless intelligible. He didn’t know and\ndidn’t care what he was saying as long as his cock was buried in the new\nbitch’s warm, moist, tight mouth.

\n\n

Finally, he began to cum. Bitch\nlooked like she was going to vomit, but he made a threatening face and she\npulled herself back together. At that\nexact moment, all he truly cared about was filling her mouth with everything he\nhad left inside his nuts. She snorted\nfor air once and he felt her head move, felt her try to shake him off once, but\nhe used his handhold on her ponytail to keep the slut’s mouth right where he\ncould target it with every move of his hips. \n

\n\n

When she was finally able to pull free from him enough to turn her\nhead away and cough, it had been something he had permitted. He allowed it for it allowed him to paint her\nface with the rest of his load. Once\nfinished, he casually used the still choking girl’s pony tail to wipe up any\ncum he might have left on her face.

\n\n

God! He felt so damned good,\nso fucking relaxed. The colors seemed so\nmuch clearer, everything was always so much brighter after a man got his nuts\noff in a pretty face.

\n\n

Everything was good with the world!

\n\n

He allowed me to rest for a few minutes. I choked up more of his now saliva-diluted cum,\nbut swallowed it again rather than take a chance on his anger. I knew my face expressed what I was feeling\nas I wiped my mouth and tried to ignore him sitting next to me. It seemed at first like he might have\nsatisfied himself with just this one round of sexual crudity, but then, in a\nrough and brutal manner I felt The Evil\nOne suddenly grab a handful of my hair, locking my head back in place\nagain. This allowed him to hold my mouth\nsteady for his second assault.

\n\n

With no other options and not knowing what else to do, I\nreluctantly took the perv back in my mouth and began again, sucking and working\nhis disgusting semi-erection with my tongue. \nWith my attention, he soon became hard again and grew back to his normally\nengorged size.

\n\n

After I’d worked on him for a couple of more minutes, I suddenly felt\nhis hips begin to jerk into my face and his meat begin to spasm. By the time I realized what it meant, he’d\nshot a second large string of cum deep into my mouth, almost down my\nthroat.

\n\n

Surprised\nat the vile feeling of unexpectedly warm and salty, yet almost sweet tasting\nfluid which filled my mouth, I shook my head again. Revulsion and intense disgust filled me as I once\nmore unsuccessfully attempted to pull away from The Evil One’s crotch. But\nhe continued to keep an unshakeable hold on my hair and I couldn't escape as he\ndischarged his remaining semen all over my face.

\n\n

Bitch looked hesitant. Manuel\ncould see the teenager was unsure how to react; she looked revolted by what he\nhad done to her and he laughed with amused pleasure. When she tried to turn her face a little to\nspit his cum out of her mouth, he suddenly pushed his still erect cock back\ninto her mouth and filled her with his manhood again. He thrust his rigid shaft back into her mouth\nwhere it slid over the majority of his cum which still lay in gobs on her\ntongue.

\n\n

He was so perverted, yet I still tried to please him! Without his urging and without him aware I still\nhad his seed in my mouth, I finally began to slowly suck on him again. My jaws were aching at this point from being\npried open for so long but there was no escape. \nThe Evil One would pull his\npenis out of my mouth and use his fingers to dip and scrape his cum from my\nface and then either push it back into my mouth or paint it on his penis.

\n\n

He would put his cock back in my mouth and tell me to ‘clean it, suck it clean’. He did this two or three more times until my\nface was relatively free of his discharge. \nI hated it---the remaining film of his semen dried quickly on my skin\nand felt both sticky and tight and crusty, all at the same time.

\n\n

I kept my eyes closed the whole time that The Evil One was ‘cleansing’\nmy face. Eventually, not knowing what\nelse to do, I made an instinctive\ndecision to try to please him by swallowing everything he had put in my mouth.

\n\n

It was hard to swallow saliva and my mouth was filling with his bitter-sweet\nfluid. Finally, even knowing that it\nwould put me in a place from which I could never return, I resolutely swallowed\nwhat he’d put in me. I didn't particularly\nlike the taste and I was grossed out by what I was doing, but I knew of no other\nway to make this torture end. As I did\nthis, I felt nausea begin to billow again in my stomach and punch up against my\ndiaphragm, it threatened to bring everything on my stomach back up again.

\n\n

Manuel was happy with the blonde puta’s first attempt at giving an\nextended blow job. They’d all beat on\nher, it was time to motivate her. So he patted\nher on top of her head like a dog, telling her she had “done good” and “he knew\nbitches been whores for years dat weren’t good as she.”

\n\n

“She was,” Manuel assured her, “a dam’ natural at dis an’ woul’\nonly get better wi’ practice.”

\n\n

Not particularly conceited in any way, Victoria had always taken\ngreat pride in what she was, a decent and good person. She was a rule follower, or at least as much\nof one as an active teenager could be. She\nvalued herself and was both choosy about those with whom she associated and had\nalways acted in a way that ensured she would never bring shame to herself or\nembarrass her parents. While some may\nhave thought she was stuck-up, it more that she was just naturally\nreserved. The other thing: she was\nfinicky about being “proper” perhaps to an unreasonable degree for that’s what\nshe’d been taught by her mother.

\n\n

This is why she responded to The\nEvil One’s warped praise with a resolutely blank face, for she knew exactly\nwhat this one act would later cost her in self-esteem. Feeling complicit and totally humiliated, she\nwas ashamed of what she had just done and of why she had done it. Physically, emotionally, mentally, it had\nalways seemed before, on this boat from hell, she had been the unwilling victim\nof terrible circumstance.

\n\n

But here, in this last act just consummated, Vicki felt like\nsomehow she had for the first time actually cooperated in her ruin, had somehow\nbeen an active and willing participant in what had just happened to her rather\nthan just sitting in the audience, watching some sort of perverted play unfold\nonstage to another person.

\n\n

The Evil One made me resume me kneeling\nposition on the floor at the side of The Bed while he rested for a while. Eventually, he began talking to me, needling me,\nprodding me. His goading was well\nplanned and of the worst kind because it attacked my view of myself and forced me\nto face what he thought would be my ultimate destruction.

\n\n

“I tink yu like dis stuff,” he said. “Yah?”

\n\n

I closed my eyes before attempting to answer. The\nEvil One was challenging my view of myself, that inner core that I suddenly\nfound was so important to me. Well, I\nwouldn’t let him have it. These were\njust words and they couldn’t hurt me.

\n\n

“Yes, Master,” I replied as I looked into his eyes, as if it had been\nan agreeable afternoon in which we both willingly participated.

\n\n

“Yu like givin’ blow jobs?” he asked.

\n\n

I hesitated answering, the thought constantly going through my\nmind, God why are you letting this animal\ntorture me like this. “Yes, Master,\nI like giving blow jobs,” I finally replied, feeling inside like I wanted\nnothing more than to just die.

\n\n

“Yu a cunt?”

\n\n

Oh God, please make this stop---but he’s glaring at me, I have to\nanswer. “Yes, Master, I’m a cunt.”

\n\n

Please, no more. This is\nnot me.

\n\n

“No, yur nah a cunt. A\ncunt’ll take a man an’ make him happy. Yu\na slut?”

\n\n

Tears begin to brim around my eyes as I agreed and replied, “Yes\nMaster, I am a slut.”

\n\n

I am NOT a slut though. I am\na teenage girl who has been kidnapped and tortured, raped and sodomized. But I am not\na slut!

\n\n

“No yur nah a slut. A slut’ll\ndo two, t’ree men an’ be happy. Sluts\nlike sex. How many men yu have on dis\nboat?” The Evil One asked.

\n\n

This was so unfair. He took\nso much pleasure in trying to make me cry, trying to break me down. He truly was evil. Tears now begin trailing down my face as I\ndesperately played for time, “Master, do you mean how many men are on the\nboat?

\n\n

”No, stupid woman! How many\nmen take yu on dis boat?” he asked again.

\n\n

“I understand, Master; I’ve been with five men on this boat,\nMaster.” The words were torn from my\nthroat like skin flayed from my body. I\nunderstood now what Bossman meant\nwhen he said words do have\nmeaning.

\n\n

“Five men, all one time. \nDat makes yu a whore. Yu\nun’erstan’?”

\n\n

Now he raised his voice, yelled into my face, “Five men, one time,\ndat make yu a nasty whore. Yu un’erstan’ me. Say it, yu bitch!

\n\n

“I understand, Master,” my eyes teared up again as I replied, my face\ncast down, trying to be evasive in the only way my slavery allowed.

\n\n

“SAY IT!” he yelled at me and I jumped in fear.

\n\n

“Yes, Master. Fucking\nfive men at one time makes me a whore; I’m a nasty whore” I finally\nrepeated back to him. Even though my\ntears, I was holding back, attempting to deceive, trying to keep the remaining\nshreds of my dignity—yet even so, it still hit me like a blow. I was finding that words do have meaning. They also\nhave a weight and a volume and a density. \nThey can hit you harder than any rock or bullet.

\n\n

“Yu take five men in one time?” he asked silkily.

\n\n

“Yes Master. I’ve taken five men at one time. I am a whore. \nI have taken five men at one time and I am a whore.” I finally began to actually feel the words\nthat described the reality of my new life. \nI was beginning to understand what I was now and would soon become even\nmore.

\n\n

“Yu like gang-bangs too?’ he continued.

\n\n

Tired with trying to play dumb to his bumbling Clouseau, there was\nlittle emotion in my voiced as I replied, “Yes Master, I like being gang-banged.”

\n\n

This last exchange seemed to finally satisfy him. He allowed me to sit in the chair while he lay\non the bed---not a word passed between us. \nAfter he had rested for about half an hour, The Evil One said, “Dat be da old way for a cunt. Now bitch, yu an’ I gonna do a new way.”

\n\n

I had been in my own world for the last twenty minutes, it was\nblessed relief. When I now looked at\nhim, I could see he was playing with himself and had the beginnings of another\nerection.

\n\n

“Get dat look off yur face. \nI do da work wid dis one. Come here. Lie down on da bed sideways on your back, your\nhead hang off da edge. Dat’s right, dat’s\nright. Now cross yur legs, grab yur\nright high heel wid yur left hand and yur left heel wid yur right hand. Un’erstan’, yu stupid cunt?”

\n\n

“Yes Master, I understand,” I replied. My mind whirled, I tried to understand what he\nwanted, what he was going to do.

\n\n

“Den do it! Okay. Now hang on to dem. Don’ let go yur heels, no madda whad happens. I don’ wanna see yur hands flappin’ around,\nno matter whad I do. Yu un’erstan’, stupid\nbitch?”

\n\n

“Yes Master, I understand,” I again replied.

\n\n

With that, The Evil One\ngot down on his knees in front of me. He\nreached down with his left hand and jerked my head back and down hard by pulling\nmy hair toward the deck of the cabin. I\nnow knew why he’d told me to put my hair up in a ponytail. My head was no longer on a plane with my body,\nbut was tilted backwards so that I was looking upside down at the wall in back\nof The Evil One. In fact, all I could see was the wall behind\nhim through his spread thighs and the giant black tube of his cock which now\nhung immediately in front of my face. His\nballs dangled directly in front of my eyes.

\n\n

I couldn’t help myself, I gasped in shocked horror. As he pulled hard on the back of my head\nusing my hair, my mouth was forced wide open as I gaped with pain. The\nEvil One then used his right hand to guide his erect cock into my\nmouth. Because of the way I lay on The\nBed and the manner in which my head was hanging off of The Bed, he had a\nstraight shot down my gullet and his erection took up every inch available. With one move of his hips, he drove the head\nof his engorged penis into my mouth and down my throat, and then he just held\nit there. He watched my face in\nfascination as his erection filled my throat to the point where I felt it\nactually might cause a bulge in my neck. \nHe had suddenly cut off my air.

\n\n

The only words I heard from his gravelly voice were, “Suck on it,\nyu whore!”

\n\n

Almost immediately, I had gagged on his cock and I shook my head\nback and forth. I panicked then and began\nto move my hands away from my feet and towards my face. I was going to paw at him, force him out of\nme. There was no way I could breathe\nwith him down my throat like this.

\n\n

The Evil One said, “Put yur han’s back\non yur shoes or I’ll break yur fingers. \nAn’ I say suck on it, bitch!” And\nthen he gave my face a contemptuous back and forth slap with his right hand as\nhe continued pulling on my ponytail with his left.

\n\n

“Last warnin’! Han’s on yur\nfeet, bitch!”

\n\n

I somehow forced my hands back so that I could grab my heels\nagain. But there literally was no way I\ncould please him. I couldn’t help myself,\nI couldn’t breathe and so I found myself gagging again. He softly growled his frustration as he pulled\nout a little and I took deep lungful’s of air through my nose and threw my head\nback and forth to try to get a little clearance around his erection in order to\nbreathe. This time my nose was closer to\nhis ass and his smell just got more gamey; much worse than before.

\n\n

It was race, an awful race as to what was worse, being choked by\nhim or having to smell his awful lack of hygiene.

\n\n

But all of that went away as he pushed back into my mouth again\nand his sack started banging into my face, slapping me between the eyes and on my\nforehead as he began making long drives into my face with his hips. I threw my head back and forth in an attempt\nto breathe, but he used his handhold of my hair to keep my head pulled down and\nnow began a slow, rhythmic driving motion into my mouth, all the while he was\ncursing me…..

\n\n

“Awww, yur debinitely a slut. \nYur gonna learn ta lub it dis way. \nGoo’ lookin’ cunts like yu always lor’ it over guys like me. But every one of yu, yur all da same when a\ncocks in yur mout’—yu lub it! Suck on it,\nbitch. Suck har’ on it, bitch!”

\n\n

The Evil One had been driving into my\nmouth for over a minute now and my gag reflex was finally beginning to die down\na little. I found I could breathe a\nlittle if I timed it for when he was pulling out of my mouth. But I was humiliated to find that my mouth\nhad begun salivating as he kept it filled with his penis and the excess saliva\nwas running out of my mouth and down (up?) my face.

\n\n

Also, by this time, my eyes were now tearing incessantly. As a result, both my mascara and eyeliner were\nnow running towards my forehead, forming long dark streaks on each side of my\nface pointing to the corners of my eyes. \nI looked like hell and I sensed he enjoyed being the one who had caused\nme to look this way.

\n\n

Throughout all of this, he wore my continually deteriorating looks\nlike a badge of honor.

\n\n

He would drive his cock into my mouth and then stop with it buried\nin my throat. The Evil One seemed fascinated by the bulge in my neck that his\nerection seemed to cause and whether or not it actually existed, he would bury himself\nin my throat and then almost in amazement he would softly stroke my neck with\nhis right hand. He’d do this for up to thirty\nseconds at a time, at which point I always began to panic for lack of air. Then he’d pull out and begin the strokes\nagain, forcing me to time my attempts at breathing with his thrusting hips.

\n\n

The sound coming out of my mouth and throat and which echoed\naround the cabin was a mortifying, ”glick ga-glick” each time he drove into me. It was the wetly awful, brutal and\nhumiliating sound caused by a man driving himself deep into a woman’s throat\nand violently expelling all the moist air from her lungs.

\n\n

My saliva continued to pool in my mouth, eventually running in\nlong strings of drool out of the corners of my mouth and running down my face towards\nmy eyes; this only lubricated his engorged cock even more. He had no problem now with completely burying\nhis manhood inside my mouth. Every now\nand then, he’d reach down and caress my throat again, feeling it bulge ever so\nslightly as he penetrated to previously unimaginable depths.

\n\n

”Ga-glick, ga-glick, ga-glick, ga-glick, GA-GLICK,” it just went\non and on and on. He called this\n“throat-fucking” and he was merciless as he brutally throat-fucked me.

\n\n

Suddenly, he reached down and pinched my nose nostrils shut with\nhis right hand as he said, “Suck on it, bitch. \nYou’ll get air when you suck on it hard enough to please me.”

\n\n

Only through sheer will power was I able to keep my hands locked\non my high heels. I tried to please\nhim….sucked on The Evil One’s cock as\nhard as I could….I needed air. I heard a\nroaring sound in my ears and saw grey spots at the edges of my vision. If he didn’t let me breathe through my nose\nsoon, I’d pass out.

\n\n

So I sucked on his cock for my life. I pulled as hard as I could with my lungs and\nfelt no shame in doing so. My cheeks\nwere hollowed by the suction, pulled in so deeply as I sucked on him I knew I must\nhave been almost unrecognizable. Soon,\nit must have been only seconds, but it felt like years, he released my nose and\nI could breathe again.

\n\n

“Dat’s wha’ I’m talkin’ ‘bout, bitch. Righ’ at da end dere, yu gibin’ me some\npretty good heat. DAT”S wha’ I wan’ ALL da\ntime; yu un’erstan’, yu stupid whore?”

\n\n

I could breathe, sort of. \nBut he wasn’t satisfied yet. Keeping\nmy hands firmly on my high heels, I sucked for my life again. I did not want him to plug my nose again—that\nhad scared the hell out of me. I was so\ncaught up in the act that I had forgotten my depression. All I wanted was to satisfy this man.

\n\n

Like everything else on the boat, this too finally ended as The Evil One gave out a soft groan and began\na more furious motion with his hips. Finally\ndriving into my throat one last time, he held himself motionless for about\ntwenty more seconds before he suddenly began to cum again.

\n\n

I was looking at his balls from an upside down position as they\nrested upon my forehead. But he was like\nan endless reservoir of horror; I could see his buttocks begin straining and\nclenching again when suddenly a hot, thick load of cum shot down my\nthroat. He was buried so deeply inside my\nthroat that all I could do was attempt a brief swallowing motion and then, it was\nmagically gone. It had been ejaculated\nso far past the back of my tongue that there was no real taste involved, just\nthe feeling of hot, thick, syrupy fluid. \n

\n\n

But I could still feel it’s’ slow, warm travel down my throat and into\nmy stomach. It seemed to take forever to\nend, and the very feeling of it going down my gullet made me want to vomit.

\n\n

I think he was finally done. \nHe backed away just enough to withdraw his cock and then said, “Lick it,\nbaby. Lick it jus’ like a Popsicle.”

\n\n

The things he said and had done to me let me know exactly what he\nthought of me, where my place was in hierarchy on the boat. I was the lowest of the low, a female slave\nsuitable only to be used for the most demeaning acts of sex.

\n\n

My hands were shaking as I finally brought them up from my high\nheels and reached out to take The Evil One’s\npenis. The veins on the outside of his\ncock were still prominent, but not as hard as they had once been. I grabbed his penis and without hesitation began\nlicking up its sides and then used the tip of my tongue to finish off the last\ndrop on the head of his now flaccid organ. \nWhen I had finished, he left me without another word, my head still\ndraped off of side of The Bed and my pony tail resting on the floor.

\n\n

I lay still for a moment and then struggled weakly.

\n\n

Fellatio is defined as oral sex. \nIt is generally assumed that it occurs between two consenting adults,\nperhaps when two are in love or maybe when money has changed hands. Less often, non-consensual fellatio may occur\nduring a rape. Rape is an act of power\nof one person over another. But what The Evil One had done to me went far beyond\nthe planned cruelty of rape. There is a\nsavageness, a viciousness, a depraved indifference that occurs only when one\nlooks at their partner as something far, far less than human.

\n\n

This was what The Evil One\nhad done to me. His studied actions had\npurposefully dehumanized me, turning me at least in his mind into a bloodless, mechanical\nreceptacle for his desires. Most\ndamaging, his attack had been as much, or more against my mind and my view of myself\nas a woman as it had been against my body.

\n\n

I had never before met people like The Evil One and The Demon. They just didn’t exist in the places in which\nI had been raised. Perhaps a few secret\ngroups might exist, but no one would dream of doing in the open the acts these\ntwo men had so enthusiastically performed upon me. In contrast, while I may have had no choice\nin being there with him, Jorge had treated me in all things gently, and how do\nI say this….even correctly…..as a pleasure slave while maintaining a clearly\nnon-aggressive relationship.

\n\n

Always firm, after I had capitulated, Jorge had never exhibited\ngratuitous violence against me. Neither,\nfor that matter, had Bossman. But The\nEvil One and The Demon hated me,\nand I was pretty sure they hated all women. \nBoth were brutal misogynists attracted to this kind of life. They must have had had mothers and perhaps\nsisters at one time. What had happened\nto make them hate women so much?

\n\n

After The Evil One\nwalked out of my cabin, I literally fell off of The Bed and onto the cabin deck. I sat on the deck with my back against the\nbed frame and just stared dully at the wall in front of me. I’d finally realized it didn’t matter to him whether\nI wanted to cooperate or not---that wasn’t the issue to him. In fact, he’d have been disappointed if I had\nwanted to please him. What he’d wanted\nwas the opportunity to display his mastery over me, to show me how little value\nI had in his world.

\n\n

Suddenly, I couldn’t control it anymore. I jumped up and barely made it into my\nbathroom where I knelt and vomited into the toilet everything that was in my\nstomach. After a moment, I spit one last\ntime into the toilet bowl and then leaned back against the bathroom wall,\ncrossed my hands tightly over my chest and began a slow rocking motion. My body was trembling, my armpits sweating\nand I could still feel the sick at the back of my throat. Though my eyes remained open and dry, I saw\nnothing as I held myself and rocked. I\nkept repeating in my head, “they can’t get me here, they can’t get me here.”

\n\n

Suddenly, I couldn’t help myself---I screamed and with fumbling\nfingers took off first one of my high heels and then the other, finally\nthrowing them both out of the bathroom. I\nwent back into a rocking motion and it took me fifteen minutes to be able to\nmove from the bathroom wall.

\n\n

Eventually, I was able to pull myself up slowly from the floor. After first brushing my teeth for a long time\nand gargling, I walked into the shower where I quickly washed myself. If not for my religion and love of my family,\nI’d have seriously tried to kill myself right there. Instead, I wearily dried myself off and\nwalked back out to begin getting ready for Enrique’s impending visit to The Bed.

\n\n

Days later, Manuel again tried to get my to wear these high heels\nfor him, but I refused. Enraged, he beat\nme mercilessly for half an hour, but I still refused. Manuel began to beat me a second time when Bossman was drawn by the sounds of my cries\nand the blows on my body. After\nlistening to Manuel, he allowed me to take the sandals up on deck and throw\nthem overboard. He’d immediately\nrealized I would be much more docile if allowed to win this one minor skirmish.

\n\n

On my part, I looked at the sandals that I’d been wearing when I\nwas captured, the ones that I’d been so proud of and had paid so much of my own\nmoney for, as both mementos of a period of arrogance in my life which I now regretted\nimmensely, as well as a monument to the absolute stupidity of a young teenage\ngirl.

\n\n

I never wanted to see them again---it actually made me ill to look\nat them, let alone wear them again to sexually titillate one of these animals.

\n\n

And it’s hard to hate someone once you\nunderstand them.

\n\n

-Lucy Christoperh, Stolen; in A Letter to My\nCaptor

\n\n

Enrique walked into my cabin and stood silent, looking at me. I knew I wasn’t ready for him, but I didn’t\ncare. I had washed and dried my hair\nlike a robot, and was in the process of mechanically brushing it out when he\nentered. I turned from my dresser and numbly,\nwithout thought, assumed the position which proclaimed my status on the\nboat. He had no clothing for me to wear\nand he remained silent, looking at me for an overly long time.

\n\n

I finally dared to raise my eyes and looked up at him to see his\nface set in a grim mask and his mouth in a thin, tight line showing obvious\ndisapproval. He continued staring at me\nwith an intensity which made me uneasy, and as I lowered my head again, I\nwondered if my lack of preparation was what made him look so angry? This thought was quickly followed by, what awful\nthing he had planned for me today?

\n\n

Finally Enrique turned and walked over to the chair, sat down and\nthen motioned to the kidnapped girl to come over. He was tired. \nHe found it more and more difficult to get to sleep at night, and it\nfelt good to just sit for a minute. As\nordered, the American girl walked over and stood next to him wearing only her\nslave collar and nipple chains. She was\nabsolutely beautiful despite what she’d gone through. After a moment of silence, he gestured for her\nto sit on his lap. The girl could not\nhide the emotions that played across her face. \nObviously confused and apprehensive, she did as he commanded.

\n\n

Enrique knew that when necessary, cruelty is one of the many tools\na man can use to subjugate a physically weaker female---he himself had never\nhesitated to use it in the past when necessary. \nBut a smart man never used it against a woman when it was totally unnecessary. If sufficiently motivated, unless she’s dead\ninside, even the most tame and submissive of female slaves will find a way to\nexact some kind of payment for what has been done to her.

\n\n

You may safely take away a woman’s freedom, you may even take away\nher ability to choose among whom she will forever have sex; these are things a\nwoman is strong enough to endure. But\nthreaten to take away her child? You\nwill pay.

\n\n

The point is, we all have limits. \nBarbarism and savagery when used in training or to satisfy his own needs\nare legitimate tools for a Master to apply to his slave. But when applied for their own sake, just to\ncause pain, they are generally counterproductive in the end.

\n\n

The problem with Enrique was that while he knew all this, he also\nknew he just wasn’t a smart man when it came to having a beautiful, intelligent\nwoman like this one in his power. At the\nsame time, he personally found himself enjoying what he did to these women less\nand less. Yet, while he was good at what\nhe did and even if he did want to quit as a crewmember, he was weak and unable\nto say no when a female as beautiful as this was involved.

\n\n

In total silence, Elvis put his left arm around my back and began\nstroking my hair with his right hand, his hands soft as they touched me. I put my hands on his chest and pushed back\nfrom him just a little in order to better look into his face. I was quickly learning to be less trusting,\nbut I still couldn’t just look at him and tell what he was thinking. Yet, as I looked Enrique in the face for a moment,\nhe looked back into my eyes without expression and just continued stroking my\nhair.

\n\n

After this, I somehow sensed I needed to take him at face\nvalue. Suddenly overcome with what I had\njust gone through in the last two hours, I put my head against his chest and\nbroke out in great, heaving sobs—I tried to stop but couldn’t. He started making a soft rumbling sound in\nhis chest that somehow comforted me and I clung to his neck as if it were the\nonly thing that could save me from drowning in the new life I was being forced\nto lead.

\n\n

It was like I was a child again, a child in a woman’s body perhaps,\nbut a child nonetheless. We remained\nthis way for a quarter of an hour, without either of us saying a word.

\n\n

He finally said, “I want you to know---I am a hard man.” I nodded, my head against his chest.

\n\n

Enrique hesitated, “I am not a good man. I know myself and the longer I am with a\nwoman, the….rougher I am with her. I am\noften a crude man and I am not proud of these things, but…..this is the way I\nam. I….I….just wanted you to know this\nabout me. I tell you these truths so you\nare not shocked when you see the true me.”

\n\n

He reached down and picked her chin up with his right hand and\nlooked at Victoria in the eyes. “Today,\nyou and I still have something left to do. \nI know this is not what you want or need right now, but your wishes do\nnot count here. However, I promise to\ntry to be as quick with you as I can be. \nYou and I, we need to spend some time together. If you fight me or try to deny me, it will be\nmuch more painful---and in the end you will not be successful. The choice is up to you, anguish and pain or\npleasure. But be clear on one\nthing---you will have one or the other with me, now, today. Come.”

\n\n

And with a slight movement of his hands, he pushed her off of his\nlap and onto her feet. Standing, he took\nher hand and led her towards her bed.

\n\n

The man I had named Elvis stood by my bed and put his hands on my\nshoulders. Leaning forward, he slowly\nmoved his face towards me, invading my personal space. I pulled back without thought, then\nstopped—there was nothing I could do. I\nwaited, and suddenly he gave me a light kiss on the lips. Surprised, I hesitated for a moment. My mind was literally running a million miles\na minute at that moment. Then suddenly,\nwithout thought, I then responded with a fervor which surprised both of us. I leaned into him and put my arms around his\nneck, pulling his lips down to the level where I could better reply to his\ninitial moves.

\n\n

Despite the fact that I had been kidnapped and raped by this man,\nI somehow felt protected as he stood there and I opened myself to him.

\n\n

We continued our kiss for a moment before he stepped back saying,\n“I need to remove my clothes.”

\n\n

God, I felt so alone. I\ndidn’t want it to go to this. I wanted\nto trust him--I needed to trust somebody--but he was with them and had already\nhurt me earlier. I hated every moment\nwhen these men were using me like this, but was helpless against them too. I felt numb inside now but knew I would eventually\npay a price for what was being done to me. \nI couldn’t hide from the men on this boat, I couldn’t hide from psychological\ntrauma forever.

\n\n

Finally, in response to his request and with all hope gone, like a\nrobot with its batteries almost gone, I began to help him prepare to rape me again.

\n\n

Enrique watched as the girl dully nodded her understanding and\nbegan unbuttoning his shirt. As he slid\nit off of his shoulders, her hands began unbuckling his belt. She then groaned softly as he lay down on her\nback on the bed and slowly spread her legs a little as he finished removing the\nrest of his clothing, at which point he lay down next to her on his right\nside.

\n\n

Her legs were fabulous! Enrique\nfirst pushed her legs together before he slid his right arm under her head and\npillowed her with it. He looked into her\nface and slowly stroked her breasts, going back and forth from one to the\nother. Soon, he leaned in and kissed\nher, while his left hand slowly slid down her firm belly and onto her mons, at\nwhich point he pushed her thighs apart and softly formed her vagina with his\nfingers. His hand did not move, but just\nremained gently cupping her even as he continued kissing her.

\n\n

Despite my inexperience except for what had been done to me on\nthis boat, I now knew it was not wrong to feel like a highly sexually-charged\nwoman. But not here, not now. This was not sex, this was raw power used for\nterrible reasons. Even though pathetic\nand completely inappropriate, my new understanding of my sexuality was the only\nthing for which I could thank these men. \n

\n\n

As for myself, I regretted it had taken such a long time to bring me\nto this realization. Despite the crushing\nanger I felt towards these men, a part of me also recognized how much I had\nmissed. At the same time, even though I\nknew it was in my best self-interest to cooperate, no matter how much sex I might\nbe forced to have with them, I was still determined to deny them the real “me”\nthat cowered somewhere deep inside my mind. \nSaving this had taken on an almost religious purpose.

\n\n

As Enrique lightly stroked my body, I wondered in passing if\nthings might have ended differently if I had known this about myself earlier. Would I have met someone on Cancun and been\nwith them; would I have then been safe from being kidnapped if I had only been\nmore willing to be with a man there?

\n\n

But it didn’t matter now---I was here---and I belonged to\nthem. And finally, I wondered if I might\nnot have lost my sanity, for Enrique’s light touch was starting to arouse me\njust a little even though I was not all anticipating what we were going to be\ndoing.

\n\n

Perhaps intuiting the beginnings of interest as shown by her\npelvis, Enrique made a move with his body and the girl, sensing what he\ndesired, rolled onto her right side so that their body’s pressed together like\nspoons. He knew she could feel his\nhardness pressed against her as his hips moved slowly, not yet really demanding\nanything. He softly licked the back of\nher neck and nuzzled her ear; his breath feeling hot on her skin as he breathed\nin and out.

\n\n

Finally, he asked, “M, it’s time. \nAre you ready?”

\n\n

After a moment during which she was filled with apprehension, she\nnodded.

\n\n

Enrique lay with his groin pressed against the back of the\nteenager. The truth was, he pitied her\nsituation a little. But there were\nalways times too, when it was all worthwhile. \nHow else could he be what he was and still make a living? But maybe, just not like this? He was finding it harder and harder to get it\nup and he really didn’t mind taking some time to comfort the girl. But that wouldn’t stop him from ass-fucking a\nwoman’s brains out either.

\n\n

This one seemed to read things into what he said and did, more so\nthan with all the other except perhaps Jorge. \nThis amused him some because she would soon learn what was real and what\nwas not. He’d told her the truth about\nhim, but he could tell from her face, from her reactions, that she’d chosen to\nnot listen. It was a pity, but like he’d\ntold her, he was not a good man and she was forewarned. If she didn’t believe him---at first---that\nwas her problem. He reminded himself to\nbe sure to tell Wolf that the whipsaw they worked on her, alternating the good\nand the bad, seemed to be working.

\n\n

She had to know what was coming. \nYet the kidnapped girl’s gorgeous body perfectly fit against his, her\nhot skin pressed to him from thigh to groin to chest. As he slowly stroked her soft skin, he became\nmore and more aroused. She lay tightly\nagainst him; his erection was getting bigger by the second and he now had it\npressed into the crack of her beautiful ass. \nWhile the warm, tight cave formed there between her buttocks felt\nwonderful to him, he knew he wanted more from her, that he would have more from\nher.

\n\n

At the same time, he truly didn’t want to hurry her. While this kid would someday belong to\nsomeone else, making an exceptional pleasure slave for as long as her body held\nout, at least right now they had some time. \nHe knew he’d get a lot more pleasure out of her body in a little while\nif he didn’t hurry her too much at this moment.

\n\n

Finally, he asked if she was ready to go on and even though he knew she wasn’t, the blonde girl\nhesitantly nodded yes. He rolled away\nand reached out to pick up a tube of lubricant from his clothes which were on\nthe floor by the bed. She in turn got up\non her knees by his side. Lying upon his\nback now, he gave her the tube and told her to put some on his erection.

\n\n

I thought I knew what it was all about. What’d been done to me over the last four—or\nwas it five days--had made it pretty clear I’d been terribly naïve when they\nbrought me onto their floating laboratory. \nBut I’d just been through hell too, and I now knew what it meant for a\nwoman to be broken and then begin their training as a pleasure slave.

\n\n

The Evil One had called me a whore and\nhe’d been right. A good woman wouldn’t\nwillingly fuck the three men who had kidnapped and repeatedly raped her. Well, I knew what they wanted now and that was\na whore, a woman willing to prostitute herself at the basest of levels. And I knew I could be the best goddammed\nwhore they’d ever had---even if it meant I forever gave up whatever it was that\nmade me unique to everyone that had ever known me.

\n\n

They all wanted to fuck me? \nI’d fuck them all as much as they wanted. They wanted blowjobs? I’d suck everything on North America, if that\nwas what they wanted. As much as I hated\nthe idea, I’d take it in the rear too. I’d\nfuck animals, I would do whatever it took to convince them I was the whore they\nall seemed to want me to be.

\n\n

Enrique was bad, but he wasn’t one of the worst ones here; there\nwere others much worse than he on this craft. \nBut I also knew he was a follower, that he only did what he was told to\ndo. It was just the fact that he enjoyed\nit so much that made it hard not to lump him in with other two really evil\nbastards.

\n\n

He handed me the lubricant and then leaned back on the mattress\nwith an expectant look. Obediently, yet\nless than willingly, I tossed the tube on the mattress, closed my eyes for a\nsecond to gather my courage and then leaned down over his groin and took hold\nof his erection. His cock was coal\nblack, about nine inches long and quite slim for its length. It had a curve in it and was just the right\nsize for my hands to grasp.

\n\n

I closed my eyes for a long moment and then looked at him. Helpless to stop, my eyes started tearing at\nexactly that moment, but I ignored them. \nI then leaned over and gave a quick flip of my head, throwing my hair\nover my right shoulder and out of the way. \nI kept my face expressionless through sheer willpower alone and without\nany prompting I leaned forward and slowly took him in my mouth. He seemed amazed that I was willing to do\nthis to him after Manuel’s brutal oral sex with me just a little while\nago.

\n\n

My stomach still churned, but they still didn’t know how strong I\ncould be when necessary.

\n\n

He was big enough that it took a second to finally fill my mouth\nwith him, and then I began doing what The\nEvil One had been so devastatingly effective in teaching me. I wanted to please this one, so I worked\nEnrique’s cock like The Evil One had\ntaught me; stroking the base of his penis with one hand, massaging his sack\nwith the other and tonguing him as I sucked on his stiffening rod.

\n\n

I hated what I was doing, but I forced myself to continue. I initially took only the first couple of\ninches inside my mouth and slowly began sucking. My fingers slowly stroked and pulled on his\nskin in unison with the bob of my head. \nThe fingers of my other hand gently fondled his testicles.

\n\n

With my head bobbing up and down on his groin more quickly, I knew\nhe could feel the exquisite pressure begin to build on the tip of his penis. I slowly increased my suction and finally\nbegan to take more and more of his shaft inside. I continued to build the pressure on him with\nmy mouth until he finally looked like wanted to scream with anticipation and\npleasure.

\n\n

It appeared there was one thing that I could do right.

\n\n

Finally, Enrique was forced to grab the girl’s blonde hair and\npull her off of him. While he had been\nkeenly aware of the intensity of the moment, he was not here today to fuck her in the mouth. He continued using his handhold on her hair\nand moved so that he could look at her face. \nLittle more than a willing automaton at this point, her eyes were closed\nand tears were beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

\n\n

Suddenly engulfed by a strange emotion, he was still hard as a\nrock and intensely aroused, but he didn’t know what he felt; it had never gone like this before. As he pulled her to his side, she broke out\nopenly crying.

\n\n

Enrique mentally shook himself. \nHe was a professional, but he was rapidly losing control here. He’d trained many captive women before and never\nhad a problem with conditioning them and then sending them on to their\nfate. But that was not how it was here\nwith this one, and he knew that he had to regain control here.

\n\n

He liked this bitch, but she was a slave and enough was\nenough. He was done playing games with\nher. He forced himself to give her\nseveral open-handed back–and-forth slaps, not too hard though, and then roughly\nshook her shoulders for about thirty seconds. \nThe girl’s head bobbled like that of a cheap tourist doll riding on the\ndashboard. He did this even though she\nhad done nothing to earn her punishment. \n

\n\n

Eventually, the girl stopped crying and looked at him with her\nhands cradling her cheeks. She had a\nshocked animal-like look in her eyes he had not seen in her before, although it\nwas familiar in the faces of many of her predecessors. It was so unlike anything he’d seen in her up\nto this point that he was a little taken aback by it.

\n\n

She sobbed, “Please. I\ncan’t do anything right!”

\n\n

I couldn’t do anything right. \nI felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to run away screaming. But there was no where I could go. There was nothing I could do.

\n\n

I was so humiliated that I could not seem to please even Enrique. I felt as if someone for whom I had little or\nno respect and for whom I looked down upon, even he couldn’t appreciate what I had given up, didn’t appreciate what I’d\ntried to offer to him.

\n\n

Although often brutal as the rest of the men, I knew Enrique had\ntreated me with what he saw as decency. \nYet when I tried to do what I thought he might like, I found I apparently\ncouldn’t even perform at an acceptable level for him. I’d made a conscious commitment to being their\nwhore, with all of the emotional baggage that had required. Yet now, when I finally acted on that commitment\nthe first time, I was found I was inadequate even in that.

\n\n

I felt rudderless. I had\nnothing left to anchor me, no place of emotional safety left inside me or refuge\non the boat. I had no value to anyone\nhere except as a mobile vagina with legs, to live my life only for men’s\npleasure and worth nothing else. I began\nsobbing again and couldn’t stop.

\n\n

Enrique now made the still-crying blonde captive lie back down on the bed facing away from him.  He knew she had to learn this lesson---she had to learn that it was her Master who chose what happened to her---that she had no choices and no say in the matter.  Hardest on the girl, she would have to be deeply humiliated in order to learn this lesson correctly.

They’d quickly learned that she was one of those people who found it difficult to say anything about the act of sex.  These words and the ideas they represented went against her very conservative upbringing and her view of herself.  Even more, they embarrassed her.  It was silly and stupid and so goddamm female, but that’s the way she was.

Enrique took in a deep breath, held it for moment and exhaled.  He would do what he was being paid to do and he would do it well.  But he just wasn’t finding the enjoyment anymore like he had in the past when he’d successfully take down one of the Wolf’s women.  But if he could get this one used to these things, no matter how humiliated she might feel now, once she’d been desensitized to them, she would be well on the road to becoming what they wanted.  He was pretty sure he’dfeel better than and this would definitely please her Master.

He waited for a minute and then began the program he knew would eventually be used against her by stroking her neck as he asked her, “Does it excite you?  I mean the thought of my cock disappearing inside your ass?”

I stiffened in shock!  This…this was unexpected, and not good!!  I twisted to look at Enrique like he was crazy.  Tears still filling my eyes and with a pleading tone in my voice, I answered, “Master, do I have a choice?  The thought of you doing that to me….it frightens me…and…it disgusts me.”

He laughed at me!  “So.  You think it’s disgusting?  Huh.  We’re teaching you how we want you to act—you need to learn how to think and talk that way too.  Alright, say this to me and say it in a way that makes me believe it.  Say, “I want you to fuck me in my tight ass.  I like to be fucked in my tight ass.”  SAY IT!!!”  With this, I realized he’d rapidly lost what little charm he’d had earlier.

I looked at him like he was crazy.  But after a moment, I realized he was in earnest as he nodded his head at me as if impatient with my stupidity.  Finally, my mind spinning in a disconnected way, I complied with his demand but purposefully made sure there was no emotion in my voice.  It was the voice of a well-made dummy with the ventriloquist far away yet still able to mouth her lines, “I….I want you to fuck me in my tight ass.  I like to be fucked in my tight ass.”

As I repeated his sentence, my eyes filled with tears again, and I stopped, unable to continue.

“M,” he said in a chiding, yet slightly menacing tone, “convince me.  Say it in a convincing tone.  NOW!”

I felt as if I were back in one of my high school plays being directed by my old drama coach.  At the same time, my emotions were on a roller coaster, and at that very moment, they were rushing to destruction on the downhill side.

I closed my eyes and my next attempt came out in a much more clear and believable voice, “I want you to fuck me in my tight ass.  I like to be fucked in my sweet ass right between my tight buns.”

I found that, for some reason, it was less emotionally destructive if I wasn’t looking at him when I said these awful things.  Somehow, this allowed part of me to pretend it wasn’t me, yet another part knew it really was me, mouthing these awful words in this horrifying little make-believe scene.

“Now say, ‘Suck on my tits, stick your fingers in my pussy and ass at the same time.’  Go ahead, say it.”

Face suddenly burning with shame and with my eyes closed, I repeated this with little more conviction, “Suck on my tits, stick your fingers in my pussy and ass at the same time.”

\n\n

“Now say,” he continued. \"I want his black cock rammed up my ass! I need to be sodomized. I want Jorge to fuck me up and make me hurt. I want him to fuck my ass! I want you to please slide your greasy cock up\nmy ass and fill my asshole with your cum!\"

\n\n

“I want his\nblack cock rammed up my ass….I want Jorge to sodomize me…I want him to fuck my\nass…” I started to repeat what he had said as if I\nwere a tape recorder, then I began to silently cry. While the language these men used had bothered\nme at first, after a while I’d finally learned to shut off my emotions and hide\nin that little safe place in my mind even as I spewed forth their filthy demands. “….I\nwant you to please slide your greasy cock up my ass, and fill my asshole with\nyour cum!\"

\n\n

Finally, he was done with this charade, but I knew this man had\nliterally changed again before my eyes. \nHe’d seemed more sensitive earlier, but like a switch had been flipped somewhere\ninside him, now he was less caring, more dominating and certainly more\naggressive.

\n\n

As the lesson time approached, he seemed to have less patience, seemed\nless willing to think of me as a person and more of his desires and needs---and\nof the role I was being forced to play in satiating those desires in him. Even for him, the one I saw as the best of\nthem, I was just a sex receptacle to be used in The Bed.

\n\n

God, how could I even hope to survive let alone gain even a little\ninfluence over a man like Enrique if he didn’t give me a chance?

\n\n

Her face was still wet with tears. \nShe’d thought he was finished with her—but he wasn’t. Her last efforts satisfied him for little\nwhile, but soon the silence became uncomfortable even for Enrique. So he told her they would have to finish her\nlesson since they were now running short on time. And finally, he began to explain some things\nto her, the most important of which was to quit playing her silly little-schoolgirl\ngames with them.

\n\n

The one thing he felt she obviously did not yet understand was\nthat it was her Master who was the one who made the choices in the\nrelationship, not her. And that the\nblowjob, what she had just tried to do to Enrique, was not only wrong, but was\neven disrespectful to him. It implied\nthat he did not know what he wanted or know what his slave’s body needed.

\n\n

The girl gave a short nod of understanding and wiped her runny\nnose on the bedding. He watched as M now\nslowly squeezed out a thick, clear inch long line of lubricant onto her palm\nand began to rub it into her fingers preparing to coat his penis. Correcting her, Enrique told her to slowly\nwork it for a minute and get the jelly to body temperature before putting it on\nhim.

\n\n

Before anything had even happened, before I had really started on\nhim, I had already begun crying again and couldn’t stop. God! I\nfelt like such a fool! I literally\ncouldn’t stop, it was like I was hysterical, but without the emotional\noutburst. It was only after Enrique had\nslapped my face again that I was able to regain control. My cheeks burned with both embarrassment and\nhis blows. I realized just how worthless\na human being I was then, for I finally understood that I was incapable of\ndoing anything right.

\n\n

Even when I conspired to pervert my moral upbringing, my religious\ntraining and, and my nature, just to please them, I found I couldn’t debase myself\nenough. I couldn’t even do that correctly. I sniffed loudly again.

\n\n

Other than spreading my legs, I was of no value to anyone; not my\nfamily, not to Bossman, not to any\nman here. I was damaged now and I knew\nno man I would ever meet from now on, once they truly got to know me, would\never want me for myself.

\n\n

Worse, I obviously had no skill or ability at what these men had\nmade of me; they had begun with a weak, stupid person when they began with me. And even worse, after willingly coupling with\nthese men, I now had no pride or self-esteem left with which to face them, and\ncertainly not the right anymore to face anyone I cared for, like my\nfamily.

\n\n

I hated it when these men made me repeat obscene things for\nthem. I would never willingly do\nthis. Perhaps that was the whole reason\nfor having me do it? Even though I tried\nand tried to pretend it didn’t bother me anymore, to have look into a man’s\nface and tell him I wanted to “suck his cock,” or “have him fuck me in my\ncunt,” or that I “wanted him to fuck me in my ass,” saying these things absolutely\nmortified me and made me feel like the cheapest kind of lowborn slut. These words and the ideas themselves were\nvulgar and lewd, they were coarse and used at a social level far below that\nwith which I had been familiar. In my\nlimited experience, only the truly uneducated trash talked like that.

\n\n

Finally, still sniffling, the newly acquired, incompletely-trained\nslave-girl leaned over his groin and began to rub the clear jelly on to\nhim. Starting at the tip of his penis,\nhe watched her closely as she slowly apply it beginning with the circumcised\ntip and then work down his stiff shaft. \nWhen he was ready, Enrique told her to lay on her right side. Remaining on his knees, he moved around\ntowards her thighs and faced her hips. \nHe then reached up and grabbed Victoria’s left leg and raised it in the\nair, finally draping her thigh and knee over his left shoulder.

\n\n

This move forced her to turn more onto her right hip and completely\nopened her up, exposing both her vagina and ass to him. He then leaned in towards Vicki’s hips and\ntold her to begin manipulating her clitoris. \nAt the same time, he put his left hand over her hip and onto her left\ncheek, and pulled her buttocks apart to expose the puckered brown hole which\nhad been fitted with the hard rubber plug for so long.

\n\n

I followed all of his instructions exactly, without emotion, like I\nwas made of metal and wood and plastic from top to bottom. But nothing mattered now, I was lost, my plan\ndestroyed. There was no place, no way\nfor me to gain any control over the situation---he just didn’t care enough for me\nto allow me the opportunity to manipulate him. \nHe was on course, on schedule and nothing would delay him from taking me\naccording to his ‘lesson’ plan.

\n\n

I lay on the bed with my legs spread and I felt him between my\ncheeks trying to part and enter my flesh, but while the pressure assaulting me\nbecame stronger and more urgent, successful entrance was not being made. First I tried to ignore it, but soon I found\nmyself heaving with fear, like a trapped doe. \nI closed my eyes tightly, begging inside my throat---for some miracle or\na rescuer, a savior---anything to stop this. \nBut there was no answering cry, no saving response, nothing but me,\nalone with weaknesses, in my helplessness. \n

\n\n

It was then that Enrique forced me to move once more as he spread my\ncheeks even further apart; he moved with me, trying to slide into me. But the awful plug I’d been wearing for the\nlast five days hadn’t worked as they’d wanted! \n

\n\n

I closed my eyes and prayed that it was over for now and I thought\nthat for at least for a moment I was temporarily safe, but I wasn’t. I grimaced at the awful sensations but he\ntook his time now and worked me with his fingers for a moment. Then on his second attempt to enter me, the\ntip of his erection finally slid into me with only a little difficulty. What he did was extremely uncomfortable, but\nthank God there was not nearly as much pain as the first time when he took me\nby force. However, I still couldn’t stop\nthe first smothered groan that escaped.

\n\n

Enrique groaned with pleasure at the sensations. God, she felt good on him. He knew this was not a moment of pleasure for\nher no matter how much she had been prepared or how much he might be enjoying\nit. On the other hand, that this wasn’t\nbringing her pleasure didn’t really matter to him either. The girl belonged to him for the moment and\nhe was going to take full advantage of that. \n

\n\n

I held my breath and tried to pretend I was watching a movie; that\nthe awful things happening to the woman up on the screen weren’t really being\ndone to me. But that too didn’t last\nlong. My eyes were still closed tightly\nand my lips clamped to avoid making noise, but I had finally been forced to\ntake a big fold of the bedding into my mouth to muffle the sounds he was\nforcing out of me. I felt Enrique slowly\npress another inch of his cock into my rectum as he guided his slick erection\nin his right hand.

\n\n

I tightened myself and fought him as best I could. I knew that it was tough going for him at\nfirst as my anal muscles fought a losing battle with the slickly lubricated\ninvader. My rectum was begging me to\nstop the pain, but there was little more I could do. I was able to defend myself at first, but after\na short second of resistance his erection began to slide more easily into me. The plug had\ndone its job. I couldn’t help myself as I\ngroaned again at his penetration, but I quickly forced myself to be quiet.

\n\n

By keeping her leg pinned against his shoulder, he maintained a\ngreat view. He loved seeing his cock\ndisappear inside an unwilling woman’s ass; he always had. It always aroused him and this blonde teenager\nfelt great on him; her warmth and tightness, the way the elastic muscles of her\nanus stretched to accept his greased shaft. \nThe way her dark hole first tensed up and strained in order to keep\nitself unviolated. The way it would always\nstretch and then accept all of him, finally stretching and making accessible to\nhim everything this young female wished to keep to herself. The way her asshole tightened on his cock and\nunsuccessfully strained to expel him.

\n\n

He didn’t push hard or deep at first, not wanting to hurt her more\nthan he already planned to--besides, he had to negotiate the turn in her colon which\noccurred about six inches in. He was a\nmaster at gauging the pain that he forced into his women and the sounds he\nforced out of them—how much pain or pleasure he was causing measured by how\nmuch the bitch under him bucked and how vocal she became. Even though young, he could already tell this\none would be a good ass-whore by the way she continued touching her vagina as\nhe had instructed her to do, both manipulating and rubbing her clit and finger\nfucking herself despite the pain he was giving her.

\n\n

Suddenly, he was in me and I gasped from the pain. Thrusting, deeper and deeper, filling me,\nburning, hurting, almost ripping me apart—he stopped, then hesitated. That move\nleft me with a sudden immense pressure in my bowels--a threatening to tear me\napart sensation. After a movement of his\nhips finally reduced the pressure a little, it all came back and more as he\nbegan burrowing even deeper, sinking down and down inside me.

\n\n

Immediately following his first penetration of perhaps five inches,\nI closed my eyes and ground my teeth on the gag to keep to myself from screaming\nany further sounds I might want/need/feel compelled to make. I wanted to explode with horror and outrage,\nto buck and shake and twist, to vomit him out of my ass, and all the while I\nwould be screaming and sobbing, trying to escape as some unknown person would\nfinally save me from this.

\n\n

But nothing happened. And even\nthough I knew in my mind he had not yet achieved full and complete penetration,\nit still felt like he filled me completely. \nHis presence expanded me unbearably, extended my tortured flesh,\nshredded me. He more than filled me on\nthe inside, but the feeling was unlike anything I could explain to another. I assume men like these took pleasure from\nwhat they did, but he caused me incredible pain with this. The thought went around and around in my\nhead, but it still didn’t make sense to me. \n

\n\n

Eventually, he pressed hard against my cheeks, the inside of his\nthigh pushing against them. Enrique had\nnegotiated his way to the maximum depth it seemed he was capable of exploring\nand now began to make slow, yet overpowering and rhythmic plunging penetrations\ninto me. My body had involuntarily\nstiffened in response his first full penetration, and I remained frozen like\nthis. Even my tightly clenched jaws\ncould not prevent other, more loud involuntary sounds from escaping between the\ngag of bedding I had forced between my lips. \nHe was that big and it was that uncomfortable!

\n\n

It seemed like everything was going much slower than the first time\nhe had taken me this way; almost it seemed in slow motion and consequently, I\nwas much more aware of intensity of the sensations associated with what he was\ndoing to me and inside me. Yet he was\noblivious to the devastation his entry caused me and unbothered by my lack of\ncooperation.

\n\n

I had not fought him, could probably be accused of cooperating in\nthis. His presence somehow made me feel as\nif he had permanently altered everything inside me. I felt both enlarged and somehow extended--I knew\nI was dilated and experiencing an extremely exaggerated feeling of\nfullness. I felt as if my colon were bloated\nby excessive gas or he had somehow left an overstuffed balloon inside my\nabdomen. It was an awful feeling and it seemed\nto extend from my anus to my colon, from there to my diaphragm and finally it seemed,\nto my throat and tonsils.

\n\n

I had sudden cramps in my abdomen which he looked at as a\nvictory. He had completely, unarguably\nfilled me.

\n\n

Enrique now began taking slow, rhythmic short strokes into M’s ass. She gasped or groaned with each of them. From what he could see of her face, M had her\neyes closed and her lips were set in a straight line grimace over the quickly self-imposed\ngag. She was sweating profusely on her\nforehead, but little else where.

\n\n

Her body was trembling and she was attempting to stifle her\ngroans, making instead soft grunting and gasping sounds now with each move of\nhis hips. But he wasn’t cooperating—every\ntime she tried to control her emotions, her reactions, he moved in way which\nhurt her or made her cry out again. He\nenjoyed playing with her like this as her anal sphincter keep grabbing at him,\ntightening and loosening, tightening and loosening. But her muscle couldn’t hold onto him because\nof the lubrication she herself had put on his erection and he quickly resumed\ntaking full strokes into her body.

\n\n

Her perfect black hole was exquisitely tight on his cock and it\nfelt warm and moist. He quickly glanced\ndown and watched her sphincter stretch into a small shroud around his erection\nas he pulled out with his cock, moving his hips back in preparation for another\nthrust inside her. And when he slammed back\ninto her, bitch would shudder as her anus reversed and almost disappeared\ninside her body.

\n\n

The blonde teenager would be a little sore tomorrow, but it was\nlike heaven being buried inside her tight ass tonight.

\n\n

He didn’t think she’d realized it yet, but he still had a couple\nof inches he hadn’t given her yet. He’d\nlet her get used to being his “medium-depth” toy before he went deep on her.

\n\n

This went on for a couple of minutes before he methodically began to\nincrease the length of his stroke into her. \nThere! Now she’d finally taken it all! \nHer head had popped up and there were even louder groans from the kidnapped\nblonde teenager. At this point she squeaked\nor squealed and groaned with every thrust he made into her.

\n\n

The position he’d made her assume ensured their bodies were perfectly\nmarried at the hip. If he hadn’t made\nher lie on her side, he wouldn’t have been able to get nearly the penetration\nof her body that he was achieving right now. \nEnrique hoped someday when she had more anal experience, she would\nappreciate his attention to detail.

\n\n

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot\ncoal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets\nburned.

\n\n

-The Buddha

\n\n

I would never enjoy what he was doing to me, but I forced myself\nto accept it. Through it all, the one\nemotion which crystallized in me was my sudden recognition of how much I hated\nhim—of how much I hated every man on this boat. \nI tried to control my reactions, but the sounds coming from me were a rhythmic,\nhumiliating, “Uhnnn, uhnnn, uhnnn.” These were punctuated by my occasional muffled\nwails of pained disbelief, all of which were perfectly synchronized with Enrique’s\ndriving lunges into me. I hated the fact\nthat he could make me perform upon command, force me groan with any move he\nmight make.

\n\n

His cock felt huge going into me and I could feel the greasy\nsensation between the cheeks of my butt as his erection slid out and then was\neasily buried in my flesh again and again and again. At the same time, I continued to manipulate myself\nas he had ordered, as if by doing this I would be getting some kind of sexual\npleasure from this act.

\n\n

The unwelcome sensation of unendurable….fullness…..in my lower\nbody never seemed to end. In the end, accompanied\nby the now familiar abdominal cramps, he penetrated to unimaginable depths\ninside my rectum and all I could do was to try to control my emotions and pain. Tears of exquisite pain and mind-numbing humiliation\nagain began to flow from my eyes.

\n\n

After an eternity, Enrique began to move more quickly, demanding\nmuch from me but always taking more. I\ncould feel him--the man sodomizing me was in me up to his scrotum, his cock\ncompletely buried in my most private of holes. \nThen, he stopped for a moment, perhaps to both to enjoy his power, his\ncontrol; the feeling of being buried deeply in a helpless woman

\n\n

The pain eased a bit for me as he just lay there on me without\nmotion. My abdomen continued to cramp,\nbut not as bad as before. I began to\nhope it was over as I prayed he was satisfied, that he had done all he wanted\nto do. I continued to softly cry into\nthe fold of now saliva-wetted bedding in my mouth I had put it in my mouth as an\nadditional gag; my face was wet with the tears that now soaked The Bed.

\n\n

I looked at him with my tear-streaked face and Enrique smiled back\nat me. God help me, he smiled at me! Then I felt him pull out of me slowly,\nslowly, allowing a wave of temporary relief to wash over my poor body. I felt Enrique pull out until all but the blunt,\ncircumcised head of his erection had been removed, and I felt a moment’s relief.

\n\n

Even so, he continued to torture me for the ridge around the tip\nof his erection remained just inside my body where it could be grabbed by my\nanal sphincter, and it was. If this was\nall he wanted from me now, I knew I could accept this. God, I was so glad that he was done, that it\nwas all done for now. I could finally breathe\nagain.

\n\n

He held this position and he held it…….…for what seemed like\nforever……….and then he rammed the whole length of his coal-black cock back inside\nme again, all at once.

\n\n

The makeshift gag could barely contain my wailing scream of agony,\nmixed with sudden frustration at the situation. \nEnrique dug his fingers hard into my hips and began to fuck me wildly, filling\nmy rectum and bowels, pounding my poor ass with his big, hard cock; taking me\nin a brutal anal rape that went on and on and on.

\n\n

He held onto my waist and began pumping me like a madman, in and\nout, long, full driving thrusts into my rear end, sawing in and out. Twisting my hips didn’t help because it felt\nlike he had me nailed to The Bed. I\nraised the leg that was still draped over his shoulder just to ease the depth\nof his penetration, but I realized I was inadvertently exciting him even more. Shrieking for mercy into my self-imposed gag,\nthe sounds of my muffled screams overwhelmed the boat’s seemingly serene\nenvironment.

\n\n

He rode me harder and harder—there was no change of pace, no\ngoodness, no kindness, no mercy and no finesse--only his chosen weapon of\nsadistic anger and triumph smashing my insides like a pile driver--pushing deep\nin me like a fist pounding at my colon. It\nwas like a piston implanted in my flesh, a piston that was going in and out at\na hundred miles an hour, a piston gone berserk, distending my flesh, splitting me\nin half.

\n\n

“Ohhhh God, no use.” I hurt\nso much now. My legs and my ass couldn’t\nfight any longer. I was choked with\nhumiliation and pain, and then blinded by tears of indignation and hate. Me, to me of all people, to happen to me of\nall women---I was a victim, after all of the years of protection by my father, his\nsafety and security; to believe that I was forever beyond servitude and\nill-usage---and now to be smashed and shattered and destroyed by primitive\nanimals like this---“Ohhh God, please God; let me die, let me die forever.”

\n\n

The blonde girl he was raping continued to cry out, groans of pain\nmixed with begging screams for him to stop. \nHer slim body wiggled and squirmed under him, but against Enrique's\ntight grasp on her hips all it did was to further inflame him. He felt this experience more fully than\nalmost anything else he’d ever done. Every\none of his senses was involved here--he heard the slaps of his loins striking\nbetween her legs, heard her breathless whimpers of pain and humiliation…felt\nnot only the tight, hot friction of her asshole gripping and rubbing his cock\nbut the gentle softness of her shaved and naked pussy against his balls each\ntime he rammed home to the hilt…he could smell her body’s pheromones see her\nbeneath him….

\n\n

He knew he was hurting the girl but he couldn’t help himself. In fact, that\nwas his ultimate weakness, for at this point he liked doing that to her, a\nlot. His fingers continued bruised the\nskin of her waist and hips as his grip locked tighter, pulling her onto his\ncock harder and faster.

\n\n

He’d actually tried to stop when he pulled almost out, but…….the\ntemptation to continue was too great, the need too strong and he was too\nweak. He’d ravaged her at the end and while\nit had not necessarily been what he’d planned for her, for him it was still\nokay.

\n\n

His erection was now buried in her up to the root when he began\nmaking the small jerking movements of his hips that betrayed to both of them\nthat the end was near. His fingers were\ndigging deeper and deeper into the muscles of her left thigh and hip as her\nleft leg continued to be draped over his shoulder.

\n\n

When it was time, Enrique let go of his load deep in Victoria’s\nass and proceeded to cum for what seemed like hours.

\n\n

Even with the gag in mouth, I tried to clamp down on another\nscream as his fiery cock drove into me again and again, ripping apart my\ninsides. I cramped less now, but my\nburning body was still filled to the bursting. \nHis presence there was a malignant tumor splitting me, with two halves of\nmy helpless body parting as if drawn by the rack---I had never stopped\nscreaming into my gag even though no cared who could hear, when I felt him go\nrigid. Then he leaned over and I heard\nhim sigh from the depth of his bowels, a sigh that morphed into a long drawn\nout groan of pleasure. With his awful breath\nin my face, I felt his rotten burning pollution begin fouling every private\ncrevice of my being.

\n\n

Finally he was done with me for today. He dropped the full, unrelieved weight of his\nbody upon me, exhausted now, he was heaving, exhaling, sucking for air. A half minute, a minute, more while his penis\nslowly lost its size and eventually slipped out of my body--- soon to be\nfollowed by a thick-feeling trail of what could only be his milky white semen\nas it lazily dribbled out of me and then pooled onto the sheet below my hips---and\nthen he was pushing his weight off of me. \n

\n\n

He was finished. I knew\nwhat the pig must be thinking, for he had said it to me enough already when I\nwas being assaulted by the others; one more nice old-fashioned ass-fucking\nunder my belt.

\n\n

“So that was the real M,” I heard him say.

\n\n

I lay there as if dead, hardly a breathing human; pulling in\nragged breaths, breathing like a tortured animal with what was left of my\nresistance in tatters after my exertion and helpless defeat.

\n\n

Today’s lesson may have been pleasurable for him, but I had never\napproached this myself. It had been an\nunnatural and terrible act; an unpleasant and painful experience for me, one I\nwas doomed to repeat on this hellboat time and time again over the next two or\nthree weeks. While it seemed the rage in\nwhat passed for sophisticated circles in other places, I knew I would never\nunderstand how some women could feel any erotic pleasure at all at being taken\nfrom the rear….I knew that I would never willingly offer myself to a man like\nthat.

\n\n

I would rather die than choose\nto be dominated that way.

\n\n

My body moved with the mattress as he took himself off of The Bed. Still refusing to look at him, I heard him\nwalk to the bathroom and water run, then the sound of his return. When I opened my eyes, he was standing near\nthe dressing table, putting his clothes back on.

\n\n

Enrique considered her briefly, “You’re gonna be alright. But next time, you’ll try to be better,\nright? When you learn a little more\ncooperation, you’ll be better off. You\ngave me a little trouble there for a while, but I promise you, next time we’ll\ngo the full distance.”

\n\n

We have two lives, the life we learn with and\nthe life we live with after that. \nSuffering is what brings us towards happiness.

\n\n

-Bernard Malumd

\n\n

I rolled onto my back lay there looking up at the ceiling, a\nrushing sound in my ears, feelings of degradation suffusing my mind, making it\nfeel as if dirty things were crawling inside and outside of me, leaving me\nunclean and sick, feeling suicidal again. \nMore sensitive to me at the beginning of his “lesson”, now he seemed to\nhave reverted back to what he truly was—a monstrous animal. Once more, I’d totally misread one of these\nmen’s true nature and had paid the price for my naiveté. What he had just done to me….. He wasn’t a man I could control, let alone\ntrust; he wasn’t Elvis anymore, he was an animal. He was The\nAnimal.

\n\n

I know he looked at what he’d just done to me as a learning experience, nothing more than a teachable\nmoment. “You’ve got to admit,” he’d said. “It didn’t\nhurt you too much, it didn’t do anything too bad to you, didn’t change anything\npermanently, did it?”

\n\n

“Some free advice here girlie, why not just relax from now\non? You know what it’s like now and it’s\nnot that bad, so what was all of your fussing about? It’s over, so why not relax from now on? You’ll definitely learn to like it. But you need some discipline and I don’t have\ntime for it today. We’ll have to see if\nwe can’t do something a little different tomorrow.”

\n\n

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one having gone through the\nhumiliation and pain of forced anal sex. \nI still had the fold of bedding in my mouth. I bit hard on it to avoid saying anything\neven as my eyes filled with angry tears once more.

\n\n

He walked over and pulled the bedding out of my mouth, “I guess\nyou’ve earned the right to breathe a little better.”

\n\n

“There, baby. Better, isn’t\nit?” I clenched my jaw and looked away\nfrom him, I said nothing.

\n\n

It seemed the silence between us went on for hours. Finally, I couldn’t help myself, “God, why’d\nyou do that? How could you? I trusted you. If I ever had the chance, I’d do back to you\nwhat you just did to me---but I’d use two feet of broom handle on you, you\nbastard.”

\n\n

Taken aback for a second; Enrique really hadn’t expected this kind\nof reaction from the beautiful blonde he’d just fucked in the ass. He truly didn’t think he’d been that rough\nwith her—just a little wood up the ass. \nBut rough or not, she was being disrespectful---and he was a little\nembarrassed. So he reached down and with\nalmost casual disdain, slapped her twice across the face for her disobedience. Still glaring at him, she took the blows\nwithout trying to defend herself.

\n\n

At the same time, he forced himself to respond to her impudence with\na grin, “But you already got me, honey. \nYou got all of me---again---the most you’re ever going to get.”

\n\n

He got up and walked over near the door to pick up a white and\ngreen box that was about the length of a cigar box, but only half as wide. He tossed this at me on the bed and I saw\nthrough my tears that it had not yet been opened.

\n\n

“I told you I wasn’t a good man, so don’t blame me for what’s\nhappened,” he said to my tearful, anger-filled face.

\n\n

The Animal sat down next to me and\nopened the box without showing me the contents. \nI moved away from him and began to get up from The Bed when he hit me contemptuously\nonce more in the face. This time my nose\nbegan to bleed. I pressed my nostrils\ntogether and held my head back for a moment. \n

\n\n

Once my nose had stopped, he then roughly pushed me onto my\nstomach once more and spread my butt cheeks apart. I started to rear up in protest, but he\nroughly pushed me back down again without saying a word.

\n\n

I was still lubricated from his cock and the semen he’d left\nbehind inside me, so it was not difficult for him to put two fingers into me up\nto the last knuckle. This action was so unexpected\nthat I swallowed convulsively and clenched my fists as I cried out in\nsurprise.

\n\n

This was the part Enrique hated the most. He thought to himself, she’s got more than I just gave her coming as a surprise. At the same time, he felt an odd measure of\nsatisfaction at what he was about to do to her. \nShe’d just acted like a stuck up American teenager and he didn’t feel\nbad at all if what he was about to do took her down a peg or two.

\n\n

He removed his fingers from her ass and it was then that she could\nfinally feel the cold rubber of the new butt plug resting against her dark\nhole. The pressure increased as he\npushed it in at the same time he rotated it, literally screwing it into her\nbody.

\n\n

The pressure on my sphincter increased to the point where I felt I\ncould feel my flesh begin to tear, and the cold, lubricated rubber tip finally\nslipped into my rectum just as it had begun to tighten after the last\nassault.

\n\n

It was HUGE!

\n\n

As it finally began to slide into me, I was overwhelmed by a wave\nof panic---it was too BIG--it felt as\nif it were trying to pull all of my flesh inside me with it.

\n\n

I fought the urge to scream, but could not contain another soft\nmoan of pain. My God, I thought in\nterror; that thing was way too big, it would rip me apart; why was he doing\nthis to me?

\n\n

I felt it spreading my hole until I was sure I must be ripped in\ntwo. I felt his hands slowly pull it out\nof my body and I let out a big sigh of relief, felt sure that The Animal had only been trying to teach\nme a lesson, but he was through and would not do this to me anymore.

\n\n

To my horror, I felt it begin to press back into me once more,\ntrying to rip me into pieces.

\n\n

But even as tears flowed down my cheeks, I gritted my teeth and still\nsomehow forced myself to lie on The Bed and accept it. Up into me and back out again, it moved\ninexorably, grinding and forcing its way deeper, ever deeper into my dark\npassage.

\n\n

Constant tears of pain were rolling down my cheeks now and my\nbreath was coming in quick, jagged gasps. Soon, it was driven impossibly further inside me\nand then, finally, I felt my anal sphincter close hungrily around the narrow shoulder\nat the outer end of the plug, firmly locking it in place deep inside me.

\n\n

I felt The Animal let go\nof the plug and without thinking, I strained to force it out. He watched me for a second and then\nlaughed. He knew exactly what I was\ndoing.

\n\n

\"Too many girls been in the same position, and they were\nnever successful either. You might as well\nstop fighting it, you’re not going to be able push that fucker out on your own,\"\nThe Animal told me.

\n\n

“Congratulations sweet thing, you’ve been promoted. You’re gonna to be a big girl soon. Hey, until tomorrow and a little something\nnew.” And with that last threat, or a promise,\nhe turned and left me lying on The Bed.

\n\n

Enrique walked out of the cabin and stopped in the galley to get a\ncold coke. He put the sweating can\nagainst his forehead and closed his eyes. \nThis was the last one, he thought to himself. He was a weak man, but he was also tired of\npretending he didn’t care whether or not he helped prepare these young women\nfor hell. He liked the unlimited sex of\ncourse, what man wouldn’t?

\n\n

But he knew that what he did with these women was wicked, it was\nwrong and he was done. But tomorrow he’d\nfollow through with her like he’d promised, because that was the way he was. For sure though, this trip was the last one\nfor him. He’d spend more time with his\nfamily, maybe go to confession and try to begin over.

\n\n

I lay on my stomach for over ten minutes, trying not to move or even\nmake any adjustment of my hips that might catch the attention of the great\nbrutish invader which had just been so zealously introduced to me. I wanted to die from humiliation and rage and\ncramps, and then finally, from helplessness I felt.

\n\n

My sphincter muscles continued to work feverishly on the narrower\nring at the end of the new stopper, grasping it and then relaxing. I continually felt a ripping, burning,\ncramping sensation in my rectum; the muscles there uncontrollably spasming\nevery now and then. Finally, after a\nwhile, it seemed that my body had somehow finally begun to accommodate the huge\npiece of rubber.

\n\n

I wiped the tears of frustration from my face, and after a while\nwas finally able to crawl over to the side of The Bed. Using the wall at the head of my bed for\nsupport, I shakily pulled myself up and then stood for the first time since The Animal had introduced me to my new\nplug.

\n\n

Standing for the first time was not pleasant. Keeping my knees together and swiveling them\nto the side as I bent over, I slowly picked up the discarded box it had come\nin. No wonder it was so uncomfortable;\nit was over two inches in diameter and over seven inches long!

\n\n

According to the schedule that they had me on, I was finished with\nall of the men for today. Hopefully, I\nhad at least fifteen or sixteen hours in which to recuperate. I realized later that the only good thing\nabout the new plug was that it took my mind off of what I had been through that\nday.

\n\n

I closed my eyes for a second and then stiffly walked over to the\nshower, where I showered for fifteen minutes. \nIt helped, for I felt a little better after afterwards.

\n\n

Coming out, I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were swollen and red from crying---I knew\nI looked awful. Well, I thought to myself\nwith a perverse sense of satisfaction, they may have wanted a beauty, but this\nis what they have instead.

\n\n

I brushed my hair and then put on the minimum makeup that would\nsuffice for the men. Looking good for\nthem was the last thing in the world I was worried about---but at the same time, I really didn’t want to disappoint them either,\nso at the last minute, I did take a little more care than I had planned on at first. This kind of dual irrationality, of suffering\nconflicting thoughts, was becoming more and more common, and I wondered then if\nI was beginning to see the first stages of insanity.

\n\n

I would think about my bizarre behavior later, for on The Bed I had\njust noticed a small pile of clothing waiting for me to don for this\nafternoon. Walking over and picking them\nup, I found the stack consisted of jade colored, lacey shelf bra with matching\nthong panties that were decorated with corst ribbon.

\n\n

The bra was made for uplifting a woman’s breasts, but for me all\nit would do was increase my cleavage. The\nthong was lacey and fairly wide at the top near the waist band, coming up high\non my hips but leaving most of my ass cheeks uncovered. Thankfully, the back which covered the crack of\nmy ass was wide enough to go over the new butt plug, for the mirror told me\nthat the wide black rubber head which still peeked out of my body was\nsignificantly larger than my previous insert.

\n\n

The black strappy high\nheeled sandals from earlier this morning were lying on the floor and apparently\ncompleted my ensemble. I was nineteen\nand unlike most of my friends, apart from what was required for more formal\noccasions, had never really felt the need or desire to wear fashionably high\nheeled stilettos much before. In fact, the\nlongest I’d ever worn them prior to this was three or four hours. And even then, they’d generally been not more\nthan about three inch heels. \nConsequently, my feet were killing me from wearing five inch heels all\nday. They still throbbed as I thought\nabout having to put on another pair again.

\n\n

Even worse, it really was murder just bending over to pick them\nup, but I finally had them in my hands. \nNext, I had to figure out how to get them on. Sitting down normally right now was not an\noption. Finally, I was able to sit down\non one cheek on the edge of The Bed and stretch my legs out one at a time to\nput the sandals on. My feet were a\nlittle swollen and the heels were always at least half a size too small for me. Combined with the plug in my ass, every move\nbrought a low moan of discomfort.

\n\n

Even as I was\ngroaning the whole time I put on my shoes, in my mind I knew this was\nokay. I found my thoughts confused---it\nwas good to help, because they might treat me better. Even if it did make me a little uncomfortable\nor caused me a little pain.

\n\n

I was slowly, yet surely going nuts. Getting up like I was a hundred years old, I\nkept my hips rigid and unbending as I walked through the mess and to the steps\nwhich led up to the deck. As usual, the\nmen were sitting around the table and two were working with PC’s.

\n\n

The Demon snickered as he saw how\ncarefully I was walking—God, how I hated them all at that moment. I know my face turned a little red, but I\nsomehow ignored all of the men. \nUnfortunately, and to their even greater delight, when I reached the\nstairs, I had to go up them sideways with my butt pooched out and off to one\nside.

\n\n

Up on top, I carefully laid out a thick towel on the deck in a\nspot in back where I could get some sun. \nI cautiously laid down on my stomach with my forearm cradling my face\nand I sighed. At least at this point in my\nconfinement, my breast chain was had not been attached by a long leader to the\ndeck railing.

\n\n

However, after a moment, I felt a shadow standing over me. Shading my eyes with my hand, I looked up and\nsaw Bossman. Immediately I began to try to get up, but my\nnew insert slowed my efforts dramatically. \nHe told me to stay where I was and wordlessly offered me a tube of sun\ntan lotion as he gently attached me to the boat by the chains through the tips\nof my breasts.

\n\n

Getting up on an elbow, I looked at him for a second and thanked\nhim—for the lotion. Then I lay back down\nonto my stomach again. I did not feel\nlike talking to anyone right now, especially a man. Particularly\nany men on this terrible craft.

\n\n

But that was exactly what I lacked right now—free choice.

\n\n

Wolf pulled up a deck chair and leaned over M. After drizzling the cold lotion onto her, he\nslowly began to work it into her back and shoulders. There were no overtly sexual overtones to\nanything that he did. After a moment, he\npulled the thong down to apply lotion to her buttocks, but never mentioned the\nend of the new plug visible between the crack of her cute ass.

\n\n

After a moment of silent massage, he began asking about her\nchildhood and how she had been raised. \nThe girl answered him, as she must. \nBut she answered tersely, not really giving away much in the exchange. However, he persisted even though it went\nagainst his nature to have to harass one of his females for an answer. Eventually though, she opened up more,\nbeginning to actually participate a little in the conversation. This eventually led to other conversations\nand other topics. Soon, it appeared the\nkidnapped girl almost forgot where she was and what she was.

\n\n

This is how things went for the rest of time he was on the\nboat. Bossman would be waiting on deck after she’d finished training for\nthe day and if she was in the mood—if it had not been an overwhelmingly\ndifficult day—they would talk about subjects that ranged from current events to\nher upbringing to his taste in music and even certain parts of his life.

\n\n

That first day, they talked about music. She was knowledgeable about a lot of the\nmusic from as far back as the 40’s, but particularly liked classic rock. This disappointed him. Even though raised by his mother on classical\nmusic, Bossman himself was a Blues\naficionado, especially loving the old Blues masters. Hearing what Otis Spann did to a piano had\nstopped him dead in his tracks as a kid. \nNot only did he become enthralled with the Blues, but he’d spent the\nnext twenty years learning about it.

\n\n

I felt like my mind had fractured into huge pieces and each one\nhad its own agenda. How could I spend\nthe end of the day talking about such normal\nthings with the man who led the group gang raping me during the rest of the\nday? I hated this life, I wanted it to\nend now! Yet, still, compared to the\nother men, I found him almost….charming. \nWhat was going on with me?

\n\n

After my third or fourth day on deck, Bossman began to talk to me about growing up in the Caribbean and\nthe way he had been raised. I knew what\nhe was doing, how he was trying to put me at ease, but I still played along. After he talked about his mother and in what he\nbelieved, I was a little more willing to talk about myself and my family. Our first true conversation about him took\nplace the next day when he talked about growing up in the islands:

\n\n

Bossman told me, “I wasn’t your\ntypical teenager, I guess. When I was 18\nand hitchhiking around the islands after a woman had broken my heart, I met\nthis guy. I was fast on my feet, a good\ntalker and you know, all of my options were still open. This old man saw how I moved and how I\nhandled myself. He watched me and for\nsome reason he liked me; he taught me some amazing lessons about life.

\n\n

He watched me and listened to me, naïve as I was, and he bought me\nfood and gave me a place to stay. This\nold man was wealthy and the member of several country clubs, but he had a\nsecret life. While he ran an\nimport/export business, the way he really made his money was by taking and\nselling women. Women like you. I was a big, good looking young guy and for\nsome reason, he opened up to me.”

\n\n

“Females are what he always called a “product.” Kept it impersonal, even though what he did\nwas perhaps the most personal thing a man could do to a woman. I had certain….proclivities he thought would\nbe useful in this business, and they were.” \n

\n\n

“Mostly though, he taught me how to pick the right products for\nthe market, how to watch and how to plan. \nAlways how to look for every angle, to research every move and make\nback-up plans for back-up plans. You\nmany not believe this, but I can be really charming when I want to be and he\ntaught me all the moves I needed. \nProbably the most important thing that he taught me is that the thing\nthat makes what I do hard is morals; and there are ways to get over that\nproblem. It’s easy to see how a kid who\nhad nothing would want to hang out with a guy like him, but it’s harder to see\nwhy he would hang out with me. Maybe he\nsaw something in me, I just don’t know.”

\n\n

“What I do know is that I was filled with anger and hostility\ntowards women at that time. Taking them,\nlike we’ve done with you, is now nothing more than a money proposition. Yet it’s more too, or at least it began that\nway for me. It allowed me to demonstrate\nmy power over women, because I could either keep the ones I took or release\nthem. Yet my fantasies always revolved\naround ownership, possession, domination, and control. It was their helplessness, their captivity\nwhich enthralled me. Early on, I used\nthese women the same way I used every other prop or toy I have, they were\nstrictly for the gratification of me and my crew; they fed into my fantasies,\nand my fantasies were very, very dark at that time.”

\n\n

He turned to me then and asked, “You wonder how I can do what I\ndo. Well, here’s how. Do you think you personally can do bad things\nand still sleep at night? Do you still\nbelieve there are times when it’s okay to do something bad? Can you always stick to the moral high\nground? If you do or think you do,\nyou’re kidding yourself.”

\n\n

He shook his head, “If you’re married and you tell your husband\nhow busy you are while on your business trip, but you’re really hooked up at a\nlocal hotel doing your secretary…that’s wrong.”

\n\n

He grinned at her, “I’m not sexist by the way.”

\n\n

He laughed, “But if you’re a guy and call your wife late (because\nyou lost track of time) when you’re hanging out with friends and she expects\nyou home, and you tell her that you had a lot of extra work at the office….is\nthat wrong?”

\n\n

He looked at her harshly, “You steal a Porsche, and you’re\nevil. You steal a loaf of bread for your\nfamily and you get written up as a hero in some political novel. Right? \nWrong….It’s all wrong. You fool\nsome of the people some of the time and all of them occasionally, but you can\nfool yourself every second of the day. \nThose guys who pretend that these moral situations are different from\neach other are just making excuses for themselves. Stealing is either right or it’s wrong. Lying is either wrong or it isn’t. Hurting other human beings is either right or\nwrong. But you can save your justifications\nfor someone who cares. Everyone wants a\nfree ride on the morality bus.”

\n\n

There was silence for a couple of minutes. “Were my questions hard ones?” Bossman had finally asked her. “No, they’re really not. The answer is simple and it’s the same to all\nof them. Morality is what you make of\nit. If you’re okay with it, it’s\nmoral. End of story. If you feel bad because of what you did to\none of your people, then you shouldn’t have made that decision. You have to know where your own line is. I don’t spend time trying to come up with\nreasons justifying what I do. I do it\nbecause I’m okay with it and then I put it behind me. It’s either all right or it’s all wrong. Just because something’s legal doesn’t make\nit right, and just because something is illegal, that doesn’t make it\nwrong. If you still think there’s a line\nthat shouldn’t be crossed and that the line isn’t blurry, congratulations. Keep on attending your Catholic school.”

\n\n

He finished, “But I come from the school of thought that holds goals\nas sacred, and I pursue them with a passion, leaving out social niceties like\nsubtlety and tact. Over the years this\napproach has served me well. When I saw\nsomething I wanted, I took it. So in the\nend, I guess that my allegiance is to my people and my crew, and not to\nideas. My story ends with that. And that’s\nwhy I have no problem with you being here with me.”

\n\n

He looked at her when he finished and while her face remained\nemotionless, he could still tell she was shocked. But that was her problem; he just didn’t want\nto talk about it anymore anyway. He\ndidn’t want to talk about the part where it was just business and how there was\nnothing personal (except for that lawyer from Amsterdam) against any of the\nwomen he took and sold.

\n\n

Or about the part where was never a lack of independents doing\nwhat he did, but at the same time, every day, there were fewer and fewer\ncompetitors. If they were stupid, they\ngot caught quickly. And if they were too\nsmart for the police, sometimes they were turned in by their competition……

\n\n

Or why he’d been so successful, or about the part where it was just\nas in any other business. Winners\nemerge, losers fade away. And about how\nit was precisely this game that made his organization so efficient and\nprofitable. But he knew that explaining\nany of this to her would be like explaining a butcher’s shop to cattle.

\n\n

I didn’t know how to react, my emotional stability was gone,\nshattered like a cheap plate dropped from twenty feet height. He talked and I listened, there was nothing\nelse for me to do.

\n\n

I had no idea of what to make with his brutal truthfulness. He’d opened himself to me, told me things that\nboth amazed and appalled me, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was an\nawful man. What he told me of his past did\nnot make him appear at all attractive as a person. Yet, at the same time, he was correct in that\nhe could be a charming brute when he wanted to be.

\n\n

I wondered what his motives were for being so frank with a woman he\nhad just kidnapped and raped. There was\nthis awful, awkward silence between us. \nI didn’t know what he wanted from me. \nIt felt like a bitterness which could be sweetened with one word, like\nwhen my mother and I had fought. But\nneither of us was willing to add that ingredient…..

\n\n

On another time, he talked about his successes and failures as a\nslaver. To him, it appeared he thought\nof himself like a butcher or baker might view themselves. It was then he admitted to me, “There was\nonly one woman I couldn’t break. She\nnever knew when to quit. That was her\ntalent and my flaw. Sorely in need of a\ntight leash from those around her, she was kept on no leash at all. And in the end, although it cost me a great\ndeal of money, I destroyed her.”

\n\n

It seemed that by discussing it with me in this way, he somehow\nmade it all okay in his own mind.

\n\n

“You know,” he said a short while later, “a man I used to know\nalways said, ‘God loves a woman who gives in without enduring reckless\nabuse.’ He always used that term,\n‘reckless abuse.’ I absolutely agree\nwith that philosophy; I would much rather work with a woman and train her\nproperly than beat her close to death. \nI’ll beat my women if I have to, but it’s not my first choice.”

\n\n

I hated him at that moment. \nBossman to me was a\ncontradiction in everything. While he\nprojected a “physicalness” that often frightened me, at the same time he had a\ndestructively devious side to him; an almost oblique way of approaching things.

\n\n

I continued to listen like a rabbit enthralled by a snake. On another night, he talked about his concept\nof “honor.” One time he’d lost a lot of\nmoney to another man in a high stakes card game. He later found out that the local Venezuelan\njudge he’d played against had cheated to win. \n

\n\n

After a long search, he found the perfect tool for his\nrevenge. He’d responded to the judge’s\naffront by paying a man with herpes and syphilis to fuck bareback a beautiful,\nyoung prostitute for a couple of weeks. \nAfter waiting another month, Wolf then paid the whore $5,000 to seduce\nthe judge and let him ride her\nwithout protection.

\n\n

“I told her to do whatever she had to do to get her pussy wrapped around\nthe cocksucker’s dick.”

\n\n

She agreed and passed along the drip to the judge. A quick shot would take care of the syphilis,\nbut the herpes would stay with him forever. \n

\n\n

“The judge,” Bossman\ngrinned with almost childish delight, “had some explaining to do when his wife\ncame down with it.”

\n\n

He didn’t know if the hooker had gotten to him or not, but it made\nhim feel better to think the judge would be itching his pecker under his robes\nfor a good long while.

\n\n

This appalled me, but at the same time I realized there was a\nperverse side to me that somehow felt drawn to this edgy side of him. The dangerousness he exuded? It just dripped from this man.

\n\n

Bossman was a total contradiction\nto me. He had the kind of expansive personality\nthat could be supportive when it was most necessary, yet he could also brutally\ncut off at the knees someone in need of reassurance or enlightenment.

\n\n

There was no obvious weakness in him. I was used to boys, and he was a man!

\n\n

He was totally unlike any man I ever met before; the meanness, the\namorality, the ability of his to hurt others without a second thought. And when combined with his charming side,\nthis somehow made him seem even more dangerous. \nYet, if I were being completely truthful, he was also darkly attractive\nto me as I lay alone and often aching under my covers in the middle of the\nnight.

\n\n

Late in the afternoon of the first full day of my training, I went\ndown in to my cabin to prepare for dinner. \nMy shoulders felt better, but I still hurt in places; I was physically\nand emotionally exhausted. Although my\nfeet still pained me, I was still moving a lot better than I had been just a\ncouple of hours ago.

\n\n

It seems that the human body is infinitely adaptable. Even so, I thought to myself, if The Animal kept this up, I was afraid\nthat they’d being trying to push a manhole cover into me by the time I was\ntaken to meet my new owner.

\n\n

There was a dress hanging in the corner now and some things lying\non The Bed. Going over to the gown, I\ntook it off the hanger and looked at it. \nI saw that it was long white stretch lace bridal dressing gown with a\nsplit front. This was definitely made\nfor after the wedding, not before. Someone\nhere, I thought, thinks they have a sense of humor by making me wear this.

\n\n

Bastards!

\n\n

There were designs woven into the sheer lace; the split in front went\nup the left thigh to the waist, uncovering any panties I might be allowed to\nwear. The material was sheer enough that\nthe bodice allowed a man to clearly make out my nipples and aureoles.

\n\n

For the first time on the boat, underwear was included. The panties were a sheer white lace G-string,\ntiny enough to leave nothing to the imagination. This would go over a white satin garter belt\nwhich, if I was any judge of what they wanted from me, would be holding up\nwhite stockings.

\n\n

Moving the stuff on The Bed around, I uncovered a package of very sheer,\nwhite bridal hose with a three inch wide band of white lace making up the\nstocking welt at the top on which to hook my garters. Finally, there was a pair of matching white\npumps with five-inch stiletto heels. My\nhead went back, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply through my nose—it would never end.

\n\n

I went over to my dresser and began to refresh my makeup. Finished, I brushed my hair and then walked\nover and, after another deep sigh, began putting everything on. As demanded by the routine set up by the men\nholding me captive, I first put on the garter belt and stockings, followed by\nthe heels. This was remarkably difficult\nfor me.

\n\n

The new butt plug gave my torso an abdominal rigidity which didn’t\nallow me to bend very much. Thus, I\ncouldn’t comfortably bend over far enough to reach my feet to put on my\nstockings. However, accompanied by many\ngrunts and groans I eventually got them on and held up on my thighs by the\ngarters.

\n\n

Going over to the dresser again, I performed the required routine\nof facing away from the wall and bending over to ensure my stockings were straight,\ntight and had no wrinkles in them. I\nwasn’t sure why this was necessary, but it had been impressed quite strongly\nthat I was to follow the same script every time.

\n\n

Walking back, I put the G-string on over my garter belt and\nfinally donned the long white gown. The\nG-string was tiny, tiny, tiny, barely covering the thin vertical strip of pubic\nhair I had left. The gown was skin tight\nin the bodice and hugged my body down past my hips where the skimpy skirt took\nover. The gown’s skirt was edged in a\nruffled lace and was cut long in the back, leaving a sort of short ‘train’. But the edge of the skirt rapidly climbed as\nit wrapped around my thighs. The right\nside of the skirt rose to my waist in front while the left side of the skirt attached\nto the side of my hip. The opening in\nthe front of the gown was at least six inches wide at my waist. I knew that in any other setting, the gown\nwould have been exquisitely sexy.

\n\n

As Victoria walked into the galley of the boat, her lovely\nstocking clad left leg was always in view from ankle to thigh, while the right\nleg was covered only momentarily as she walked. \nBut the gown was so sheer that nothing was ever truly hidden from\nview. Despite their physical exhaustion\nfrom today’s long sessions fucking this same woman, every man there instantly\nhad a raging erection again. She was\nsexy as hell and fucking gorgeous!

\n\n

The only thing really hidden on her body was the new butt plug…..but\nEnrique knew. He knew as he watched the\nstiff way her hips moved when she walked. \nIt was nothing like the sexy glide which had been so characteristic on\nCancun. She was, he knew without doubt,\nstill in the grip of his giant hard-rubber tool.

\n\n

Manuel kept her serving them for the next hour, making her walk\nback and forth getting drinks and second helpings. They all knew the exercise would get to her\nsooner or later. Yet both Jorge and\nEnrique refused to join Manuel’s game and he eventually tired of playing it by\nhimself.

\n\n

At the end of their meal, the men all got up and waited for her to\nfinish clearing the small table. They\nall watched as she fixed herself a small plate and then prepared to lean\nagainst a wall while eating. The men\nwere surprisingly full of old-world manners that night and would have none of\nthat. The Evil One insisted she sit to eat and he even grabbed her elbow\nand escorted her over to the table. She\nthen knew they were all waiting for her to make her first public attempt at\nsitting on a hard seat with the new plug in her rear.

\n\n

I was embarrassed, yet filled with anger too as the men played\ntheir stupid games with me, yet I kept it tamped down. Mustering as much of my composure as I could,\nI slowly began to sit down on the unpadded bench. I had been cramp-free for over ninety minutes\nnow and was just leaning over the table with my knees bent when anal and\nabdominal cramps began to hit me again, but now both attacked at the same time---and\nthis time they were serious.

\n\n

I heard The Evil One\nsnicker as I froze in mid-air and closed my eyes as I grabbed the edge of the\ntable with both hands. My knuckles were\nwhite as I held onto the edge and I knew that my face was a bloodless white\nunder my light layer of base.

\n\n

Finally, the cramping began to ease, and after a moment I was able\nto resume sitting, finally making it to the bench. But it was immediately obvious to all that I\nwas sitting on my left cheek as best I could, trying to keep my new plug from\nmaking contact with the hard wood beneath me. \n

\n\n

In my embarrassment, I didn’t notice Enrique leave the galley,\nshortly followed by Jorge. I was so\nhumiliated that it was a struggle to not start crying in front of the men. But that small objective part still hiding in\nthe so-far unreachable part of my brain told me to ignore them. All things eventually come to an end, it told\nme.

\n\n

Once more, I had trouble sleeping. \nI lay in bed that night wearing only a black fishnet stretch lace bra\nand thong bottoms. I was thinking about\nwhat had happened today and knew I had fooled them except for the one time that\nI was ready to kill The Demon. That had been a major mistake.

\n\n

I first rubbed my aching feet and then shifted my hips carefully\nin an attempt to get comfortable on The Bed. \nI’d been humiliated again tonight when hit by a sudden urge to have a\nbowel movement. I’d fought\nunsuccessfully to remove the new plug myself for over thirty minutes, at which\npoint I’d been forced to beg Jorge for assistance. He took his time and instead he finally sent\nin The Animal.

\n\n

By the time he arrived, I was again suffering from awful abdominal\ncramps. He’d smirked at my discomfort\nand blushing face, and unscrewed the plug from my rectum as I lay face down on my\nbed with my legs spread wide for him. He’d\nacted almost as nonchalant as if it were a wine cork he’d been removing; the\nwhole thing had been so humiliating that I wish I could have died on the spot.

\n\n

I finally was able to do what was necessary, but my anus was so\nvery tender that it was difficult to wipe. \nWithout the plug in, I leaked a lot. \nAll in all, the whole awful experience was something I’d rather just\nforget. It was then that I’d gotten my\nfirst good look at the new plug I had filling my rectum, and I was appalled to\nfind it actually had threads on the outside to help another person screw it\ninto me.

\n\n

The truth was, you never really get used to something this\nlarge. It felt just as bad inside me the\nsecond time as it did the first.

\n\n

With reluctance, I acknowledged to myself that I was putting the\nmoment off. With a deep breath, I faced\nthe reality of what had happened today. I\nfelt my mind going over and over what I had suffered through. The more I thought about what these men had\ndone to me, the more I felt myself withdrawing from reality. More and more, I felt my mind internalize and\nbegin build additional barriers against letting the pain hurt me anymore.

\n\n

I cried for a few minutes and then wiped my eyes. I knew I had to be a lot tougher than they\nthought I was. I later realized I spent\nmy time that night trying to understand whether or not my mind would break--was\nI was strong enough to continue---or was I too weak to go on? Understand, I was not consciously voicing\nthese thoughts, rather they were just random parts of my mental environment and\nI accepted them at the most sub-conscious of levels.

\n\n

The choice that faced me was stark--literally black and\nwhite. I could withdraw completely and\ngo almost catatonic—God help me, this was actually appealing because it meant that\nwhile they could keep my body, they would no longer have access to my\nmind. It was such a seductive idea,\nleaving it all behind that way.

\n\n

Or, I could remain mostly\nsane and fight them. No matter what\nhappened, I had been changed by all of this. \nI was rightly depressed and could actually feel myself withdrawing at\ntimes from this horrible reality, internalizing and setting up barriers,\nsegregating my mind from my body. I really\nfelt the draw of giving up—I would never be allowed freedom again and this\nseemed such an elegant solution.

\n\n

But a part of me still wanted to fight, to retain my sanity even\nif they continued to hurt me in the process. \n

\n\n

I lay my head down and closed my eyes. Clearly, there were no assurances regarding\nhow I would come out of this, but I was somehow aware of how everything was\ntrending.

\n\n

I lay there awake for a long time. \nOne other thought popped across my mind as I was finally getting sleepy\nand it occurred when I re-lived the abdominal cramping at dinner tonight.

\n\n

I was late.

\n\n

Normally as regular as clockwork, my period was late by a few\ndays. This, I assured myself as I took a\ndeep breath, meant nothing in view of the stress I’d been under.

\n\n

Nothing at all.

\n\n

Day\nSix: Training Continues

\n\n

I hadn’t slept well last night and so was up early this\nmorning. Even so, I felt better than I\nhad in several days. My mind was made\nup—I was going to hang around and fight rather than just give up, shut down and\ndrift away. I know I’m not explaining\nthe process I went through very well, but all I can say is that different parts\nof my dilemma became clear over time, and only later was I able to put it all\ntogether.

\n\n

After my exercise period, I looked around the room to ensure everything\nwas clean. Going over to the tray of\nfood on the table, I grimaced as I washed my supplements down with coffee and\nmunched on the croissant---my throat was sore, very sore.

\n\n

After eating, I rubbed in the antiseptic cream I needed to ensure my\nbreast piercings didn’t become infected. \nI had already cleaned up, my makeup was on and my hair fixed. Now I waited for the first man to arrive.

\n\n

Sitting in the chair ten minutes later, Jorge watched M dress for\nhim after he’d helped her remove her new anal stopper. He marveled again at how sexually arousing he\nfound watching a woman put on stockings. \nThe girl may be new to this, but she learned quickly. The way she rolled them up her leg starting\nfrom her foot and ankle and ending with her thigh; sometimes standing up and\nbending over to address her thighs while at other times, despite the plug in\nher ass, she would just lazily stretch her leg out from the bed; pulling the\ntop of the hose up and stretching the garters down, and finally the slow\nsensual act of attaching each garter one at a time.. It all seemed impossibly erotic to him.

\n\n

Jorge was a man who appreciated the beauty of a woman’s legs more\nthan anything else. While he was not in\nany way immune to the beauty of a woman’s firm breasts riding high on her chest\nas they defied gravity, with erect nipples poking into the air…

\n\n

Whether legs or breasts or the beauty of a woman’s face, he had\nalways most enjoyed the beauty that the natural symmetry of a woman’s legs\nbrought to her body. This was why he\nalways had his women put on their bras (if he allowed them one) last. He loved to see their breasts bunched\ntogether as they put on the rest of their clothing.

\n\n

The view of M leaning over with her long blonde hair hanging down as\nit covered her face, attaching her garters to her stockings, breasts bobbing as\nshe moved, her arms pushing her breasts together and creating additional\ncleavage, it all created a picture that never failed to stir his loins. He’d known from an early age that any woman\ncould be beautiful if just given the chance, and he was a man who had been\nlucky enough to give numerous women many opportunities to show him their beauty\nwhether they’d wanted to or not.

\n\n

The sum of this particular girl’s eroticism far exceeded the\naggregate picture she presented or actions she had performed this morning while\npreparing for his attentions. When M was\nfinally finished dressing, he had her stand in front of him and slowly turn\naround, allowing him to really look at her, to truly see her perhaps for the\nfirst time. At that moment, he could\nappreciate the totality of her beauty, the entirety of her femaleness.

\n\n

For some reason today, perhaps because he knew he would be having\nher in any way he might choose and that she would be forced to willingly give\nhim anything and everything he desired, his hormones allowed him to take his\ntime and drink in her beauty without the bone-deep urge every man on the boat\nhad to ravage her body.

\n\n

She had impossibly long legs. \nHer feet were small for her height, yet were high-arched and perfectly\nshaped. This allowed her to comfortably\nwear the stiletto heels, of dark blue this time, that all of the men on the\nboat so enjoyed seeing on her. While her\ncalves were already quite muscular, the muscles were further accentuated by the\nheels she wore; but smoothly so, for there were no jarring angular muscles\nhere.

\n\n

He marveled at the smooth interplay of muscles on her legs,\nespecially the small ones behind her knees that most men would never\nnotice. He groaned inwardly at the\nprovocative curve of her belly, the pouty hairless labia visible between her\nthighs, the tight quadriceps that drew barely seen lines along her thighs.

\n\n

The changing hue of her cinnamon stockings as she turned caught\ndifferently the light coming in through the porthole. The small shadows that came and went on her\ncalves as the silky fabric of her hose caught the sunlight forever altered his\nperception of her. And the changing\nhighlights reflected by the nylons on her thighs as her firm muscles played\nunder her soft skin; these things all emphasized to him just how beautiful this\nteenaged girl they had taken less than a week ago really was.

\n\n

It was only now that he noticed her thighs were a little larger\nthan one might expect for a girl of her build, a legacy he suspected, of her\ndancing or her innate athleticism. As a\nresult, the tops of her stockings were stretched impossibly tight over her\nshapely thighs, and proof this exotic vision was evidenced by the lighter tan\nsheen reflected from there when viewed against the rest of her legs.

\n\n

When she turned to the side, his gaze was drawn immediately to her\nfirm, gorgeous ass. From the back, it\nwas framed horizontally by the navy blue garter on top and vertically below by\nthe darker flesh-colored tops of her stocking rising from beneath. Her butt was round and firm and high, and had\nnot a trace of fat as it perfectly met her gorgeous thighs. There were no incipient saddlebags here; it\nwas astonishing in its perfection, rivaling that of the most developed dancers. The only flaw here was the ugly black piece of\nrubber peeking out from between her cheeks. \nBut this was a necessity.

\n\n

Now she had turned again and his eyes traveled up from the pouty\nlips of her vagina to her waist; appreciating again how her hips indicated she\nhad the child-bearing capacity that men’s genes force them to find so\nattractive, but which then narrowed above to a remarkably slender waist only\nemphasized further by a flat, well-muscled stomach without an ounce of\nfat.

\n\n

From there his eyes moved to her breasts. These could be seen unhindered by the short navy\nrobe of sheer chiffon she wore over her shoulders but which fell open in the\nfront. Ah, her breasts. Even though not a breast man, in all of his\ntravels he had rarely seen such perfection. \nBoth were the same size and dropped symmetrically from her chest.

\n\n

They were not too large and not too small, and hung firmly,\nassuming a gentle pear shape as they fought gravity and won. She had the smaller brown aureoles that so\naroused him, and not the larger ones which covered much of a woman’s\nbreast. Lighter brown, almost pink\nnipples rode high on her breast and stood out even when not erect.

\n\n

They were perfect.

\n\n

Finally, her face. She was\na blonde angel, blessed with the intelligent eyes of jade green a thinking man\ncould sink into forever. Her long thick\nblonde hair was parted in the center and framed her high cheek bones, hanging\nloose down almost to her butt. It\nwhirled and moved with each puff of morning breeze and seemed to be almost a\ncloud that followed her wherever she went. \n

\n\n

Her makeup was lightly applied, the merest whisper of base. But she’d spent time on her eyes as mascara\nemphasized the thickness of her lashes and liner the shape of her eyes. She’d put on a lighter shade of lipstick this\nmorning and perhaps lined her lips, because they too were perfectly shaped.

\n\n

She wore the long dangling earrings he’d brought in with the\nlingerie and they hung down just as he’d hoped, moving with each turn of her\nhead or tilt of her face.

\n\n

The velvet navy choker that replaced her normal slave collar\nemphasized her long and slender neck, and only drew more attention to the\nbeauty that lay above.

\n\n

Motioning, Jorge beckoned as he sat in the chair. She walked over and at his nod, sat carefully\nin his lap.

\n\n

“I have talked,” he said, “with Enrique and know what they did to\nyou. We saw you fight your battles in\nyour mind, and we saw your decision.”

\n\n

He smiled at the look of surprise on her face. “What? \nYou think you are the first to be forced to face this truth inside?”

\n\n

He continued after a moment’s silence. “Whatever might have been used to motivate\nyou in the beginning, you have willingly given yourself to us now. There was no reason for the brutality other\nthan that is the way they are.”

\n\n

“Using viciousness when it not needed is not only bad business,\nbut it is bad for the soul. It coarsens\na man and takes years off of his life. \nWhen their karma is finally added up, it will take those two a good\nportion of eternity to get everything straightened out.

\n\n

“But you,” he smiled, “your aura fights their karma, and it is a\nwonderful battle to watch. And while\ntough on you now, in the end it is they who will be suffering for what they\nhave done in this world.”

\n\n

He gently pushed M off of his lap and standing, he took her hand\nand led her to the bed. He stopped and\ntold her to remove his pants while he took off his shirt. Finally naked, he told her to get on her\nknees in front of him.

\n\n

It was like he understood a little of what I’d gone through, and I\nwanted to cry at first. But now\nthis. Looking into his eyes for a second\nto make sure I understood, I slowly dropped to my knees to find myself facing\nhis flaccid penis. I wasn’t going to\nmake the same mistake twice of assuming what these men wanted, so looking up at\nhim for a second I took his nod as approval to proceed.

\n\n

I fought back the first rumblings of nausea. This was not something I wanted to do, yet I\nalso knew that delaying his satisfaction would not be in my best interests\neither. Exhaling to flush my lungs, I inhaled\ndeeply and reached out to take his slowly stiffening erection in my hands. I stroked it for a second and then swallowing\nstiffly, slowly began to lick it prior to putting it in my mouth. I tongued his penis for a second and then\nbegan moving my head back and forth as I increased my suction. I was getting better at this, and that\nrealization rocked me. Without conscious\nthought, at the same time, my left hand continued to grasp him towards the root\nof his cock and pulled down as I moved my head away from him. His cock would slide almost out of my mouth,\nbut I never allowed it to reach that dire strait. Then my head would bob towards his groin, I\nabsorbed his meat into my mouth and the dance would begin all over again.

\n\n

After working with their captive for only a little while, he\nrealized she had an extremely long tongue. \nShe had a lot of muscle in her mouth and he took full advantage of her\nnatural gifts.

\n\n

Jorge groaned to himself, damn! This girl is a natural! Then he took her back to some serious\nfellatio.

\n\n

After a few minutes of pleasure, he put his hands on her face and\npulled away from the captive, forcing the kidnapped girl to look up at\nhim. Jorge caressed her face once again\nand ran his fingers through her hair, and then he slowly guided her mouth back\ntowards his cock.

\n\n

I knew what he wanted and had no choice but give it to him willingly. As the distance between us decreased, I\nclosed my eyes and accepted the tip of his erection again. Despite how it made me feel, I was really trying\nto please him, since my objective mind kept telling me how much control it gave\nme over a man. I’d decided to cooperate\ncompletely with him this morning. I’d\nfigure out what I was going to do with The\nAnimal and The Evil One when the time\ncame.

\n\n

I began sucking harder and using my tongue more aggressively. Every time he groaned with pleasure, I felt\nan unfamiliar sense of satisfaction. For\nthe first time I consciously wanted to please one of these men. It didn’t matter how had I arrived at this point,\nI just knew I wanted to do this the best I could!

\n\n

Soon, I was receiving a full-on face fucking from Jorge and I was\nworking hard to perform as well as I could.

\n\n

Finally, he couldn’t hold it in any longer and grabbing her head\nfrom the back, Jorge pushed his cock in as deep as he could and began to cum in\nher mouth. The young blonde still wasn’t\nused to having a man do this to her, so to his frustration, she turned her head\naway and he finished cumming on the side of her face.

\n\n

I worked hard at pleasing\nhim, but at the last second still found it impossible to willingly let him cum\nin my mouth. Overall though, Jorge seemed\npleased with my actions. He gave me what\nI guess he thought was further encouragement by scooping his cum off my face\nwith his finger and then putting it close to my mouth.

\n\n

This was a new scenario for me. I knew what he wanted, but it was so\ndifficult to accept! Finally, I knew\nthat all I could do was follow his lead. \nFighting down the bitter taste of bile in my throat and the instinctive shudders\nof revulsion which originated deep within me, I accepted the gobs and strings of\nsticky, silky fluid by licking them from the sides of my mouth with my tongue. Still hiding shudders of distaste, I continued\nletting him feed me his cum until my face was coated with so thin a layer of his\nsemen diluted with my saliva that no more could be scraped off with his finger.\n I could feel the nasty mixture immediately\nbegin drying on my face, giving my skin an unpleasantly tight feel.

\n\n

My stomach roiled with nausea, yet my objective mind told me to\nforget about being sick because of what I had just swallowed. This was my life these men held in their\nhands—I reminded myself again and again that I had to be pragmatic and would do\nwhatever was necessary to retain an advantage. \n

\n\n

This wasn’t some abstract situation, some theoretical\ncondition. This man was the least\nobjectionable of the crew. And despite\nwhatever might happen, I knew I had to maintain some kind of control over my\nlife. Pleasing this man was perhaps my\nonly choice, my best chance at doing this. \nI also knew that Jorge was going to fuck me next and, given what I had\nalready gone through, probably take me from the rear too. After all, last night they’d all just as much\npromised they would today.

\n\n

That would probably almost kill me…

\n\n

Regardless, I knew had to get Jorge to hurry for the others were\nwaiting. With only a little urging from me,\nwe moved on to what I knew he would consider the main event. I worked him hard, and with an inner feeling\nof minor triumph, at the end I felt that Jorge had finished more quickly than\nhe had planned. However, he appeared to\nbe pleasantly tired from his time with me and left, not suspecting anything\nmight be other than he’d planned.

\n\n

This was the first time I had felt like smiling since my\nkidnapping.

\n\n

I was finally cleaned up and my makeup was refreshed, but I did\nnot mind admitting that the next man who would come through the door frightened\nme. I was waiting for The Animal to appear. I admit that I was nervous because he’d all\nbut threatened me as he departed yesterday. \n

\n\n

I was filled with trepidation, anxious to get today over and spend\nsome time alone trying to figure out how to retain my sanity.

\n\n

At the appointed time, Enrique entered the girl’s cabin. He watched as the naked young female leaped\nto her feet and adopted the posture required for a slave of her status. Ignoring the kidnapped girl at first, he laid\nout at the foot of her bed several loops of rope, a three inch long penis gag,\nseveral different types of dildos, a small canvas bag, and ankle and wrist\nrestraints. Following this, he walked\naround and checked out her room, confirming she had in fact cleaned up\nfollowing Jorge’s departure.

\n\n

The pantomime he had just gone through, the threatening silence,\nthe heavy menace he exuded, while real, it all was all calculated too for\nmaximum psychological pressure.

\n\n

Enrique already knew what he was going to do to the bitch. She wasn’t particularly going to enjoy her\ntime with him, but it would make him\nhappy. And what he planned, while not\nnecessarily required by Bossman, it\nall certainly fit within the guidelines allowed him for today.

\n\n

Today had nothing to do with sex, but everything to do with\nsubmission and humiliation and pain. It\nhad everything to do with discipline and training, with conditioning a helpless\nteenage female to accept whatever may be forced onto her. It had to do with forcing a girl to accept\ncontinued degradation, with making an individual abase herself in the most\nawful ways. It had everything to do with\nusing discipline in teaching one to permanently accept her fate and nothing about\nit was erotic.

\n\n

He knew it was a wicked thing to do---he was well aware of what a\nwicked game he played with these women. \nHe was finding he told himself this more and more often every day. But in his mind, he’d gone too far with this young\nwoman to stop; there was no backing out here.

\n\n

He realized suddenly that he was stalling for time, so with a deep\nbreath he began the deliberate dance they both knew would end with her being\ndebased and in pain. Enrique barely\nlifted his eyelids to look at her. But\nwhen he saw the look of fear in her eyes this time, his baser nature kicked in\nand despite his initial intentions, his interest increased dramatically.

\n\n

“I may not be a good man,” he said, “but I’m not a dumb one\neither. I see that you fear me—that’s\ngood. But you also have an air of calm,\nof confidence, and that doesn’t necessarily fit with a young girl in your situation. Now that we are past the preliminaries, what\nare you hiding from us? And to the real\nquestion, who truly are you?”

\n\n

He smiled as he shook his head. \n“I’m not sure you can even answer that last question. So, now we get to spend some time finding out\nabout your true self. I’m going to spend\na lot of time with you, so tell me, why do you let me do this to you? Why not tell me what I want to know and we’ll\nspeed past the bad stuff.”

\n\n

He didn’t think she’d believe that, but when one was torturing\nanother, it never hurt to try the easy road first.

\n\n

He didn’t really want an answer; he didn’t know if she even knew\nthe answer to his question and he didn’t wait for an answer, but walked to the\nwall of the cabin down at the foot of her bed. \nNumerous eye-bolts were set in the wall there at various heights and\ndistances apart, and a small, clever pulley was partially hidden in the\nceiling. He knew this teenager had not\nyet been ‘put to the wall’ and he figured it was about time. Besides, he was still a little annoyed with\nher from yesterday. On the other hand,\nher reaction today had definitely piqued his interest in her.

\n\n

He peremptorily motioned her to come to him and this she did\nslowly, reluctantly. When she finally\nstood next to him, he made her put on most of the bindings herself. It never ceased to amaze him at what they\ncould make these women do after only a few days of pressure.

\n\n

He knew he would never have\ncracked as easily as they did.

\n\n

First he gave me the gag and told me to put it on. Grimacing with distaste, I complied with\nreluctance, loathing every minute of the sham we both knew we were going through. Finally, it was in my mouth and I had\nfastened it loosely in the back. He\ntightened it himself until I briefly closed my eyes due to the discomfort of my\njaws. The bastard knew then that it was\nabout right. Next he had me put on the\nleather wrist cuffs. When these were on\nto his satisfaction, he told me to sit down with my back to the wall. This I did meekly, almost, it must have seemed\nto him, deferentially.

\n\n

I hated what he’d earlier made me do for him and feared what he\nhad planned next. I had originally\nthought he was one of the few good ones, a man not quite as evil as the others---I\nhad been so wrong---how wrong could one person be, I wondered. It was bad enough to let him do these things\nto me without struggling; but to make me an accomplice when being bound, to\nmake me an accessory like this….I knew he only did this to emphasize my total\nhelplessness in the face of their demands. \n

\n\n

Suddenly, I realized how much my jaws hurt. The gag was on tight, too tight! This frightened me, for I wondered why he\nwould feel the need to do this to me.

\n\n

Enrique now took the captive girl’s right wrist and ran a short\nlength of rope through the loop on the cuff and through an eyebolt on the wall\nthat was a little higher than her shoulder and about three feet away from her\nhead. After fastening her wrist to this,\nhe proceeded to do the same with her other hand.

\n\n

The captive girl they had named M now sat naked on the floor with\nher back to the wall. Her wrists were\ntied to the wall in a way that forced her shoulders back and which made her arch\nher chest forward a little to relieve the pressure. This one was a beautiful, well-built young\nwoman, and Enrique appreciated the added bonus this position offered his\nviewing pleasure.

\n\n

Next he dropped to his knees and tied a piece of rope to an\neyebolt located at the intersection of the floor and the wall, immediately to\nher left side. He then ran it across her\nflat belly and then through another metal loop that was directly behind her on\nthe right side. When he pulled the rope\ntight and tied it off, it dug cruelly into her abdomen and hips. With her wrists tied up, the rope going\naround her waist and then down to the eyebolts in the floor ensured she was not\nmoving again until he released her.

\n\n

He knelt between her long, widespread shapely legs and looked at\nher for a second. After a moment, he\nreached out and touched M’s nipple chain. \nTaking it in his hand, he gently pulled on it, stretching the skin of\nher breasts and bringing to a point the tip of each of her tits. The blonde captive teenager moaned and thrust\nher chest forward in response, doing her best to determinedly push each of her nipples\ninto his face. Smiling at her struggles,\nhe finally let go of the chain and leaned back away from her.

\n\n

Now looking at her without the slightest expression on his face,\nhe said, “Now we get to see how submissive you truly are.”

\n\n

With that, he tied loops with slip knots in the ends of two pieces\nof rope. Taking one piece, he looped it first\naround her ankle and then around the big toe of her left foot and proceeded to\nrun the rope through an eyebolt that was located about a foot higher than her\nwrists and about a foot further away. \nWhen he pulled it tight and tied it off, her hips were still pinned to\nthe wall while the toes of her left foot were almost touching her hand that was\npinned to the wall.

\n\n

His actions had rotated her body around the rope restraints around\nher waist and she was now facing more towards the left than she had been. All of the stress the position caused, all of\nthe torque her twisted body produced, everything\nwas anchored by the loop of rope around her one big toe. While not immediately painful, it immediately\nuncomfortable and quickly started to ache. \nHe could tell from the terror in her eyes the girl knew that within\nminutes the pain would be horrible.

\n\n

When Enrique picked up the remaining piece of rope and approached\nher right foot, he was ready for her kick at him. “Not so submissive now, are we?” He chortled. \n

\n\n

“Remember, you always need to remain in control here.”

\n\n

When The Animal had\nlooped my left toe, I’d had no idea what he was about to do. I was immediately filled with fear and appalled\nas he pulled my foot up and tied it to the wall. This left me helpless, or as close to\nhelpless as I would ever want to place myself with this maniac. And if he tied my other foot like he had this\none, it would be awful.

\n\n

I knew he was determined to do what he would do, but I still had\nto try to fight him. So with a feeling\nof determination, laced with an overpowering feeling of resignation, I tried to\nresist. However, I soon found it to be\nuseless.

\n\n

He easily caught her foot and after putting her right ankle and big\ntoe in this loop, he tightly bound her right leg to the wall above her\nshoulders and almost touching her right hand. \nAt this point, the blonde captive was now sitting on just the back tip\nof her pelvis with her legs spread wide and both her legs and hands tied to the\nwall. Only the rope tied around her\nwaist kept her body from sliding away from the wall and while her knees were\nonly slightly bent, both of her legs were stretched wide apart, as far as they\nwould go.

\n\n

In the past, Enrique had especially liked putting his women in\nthis position because while in it, there was nothing they could do to protect\nthemselves---this position left their genitalia completely open to him,\ninviting any activities he might choose to enact. With this one though, he had not yet made up\nhis mind how far he was willing to go.

\n\n

Finally, he shook his head and said in a conversational tone, “You\nare one flexible piece of ass; I’ll say that for you.”

\n\n

Oh God! I had hoped that if\nI cooperated with The Animal, perhaps\nhe would go a little easier on me, perhaps not feel quite as much need to hurt\nme, maybe feel less desire to try and totally dominate me as he had threatened\nto do yesterday afternoon. But I now\nknew this had been not only a false hope, but a particularly foolish one as\nwell. I felt betrayed, not so much by\nhim but by how stupidly I had been acting in my attempts to direct anything in\nthis hell I now inhabited. I had allowed\nmyself to be made helpless before I even knew what his ultimate plan had been,\nand now it was too late, far too late to try to stop him. I cursed myself for my stupidity, my continuing\nnaiveté.

\n\n

With my hips bound to the wall and both of my feet tied to the\nwall above my shoulders, the pain in my hip and knee joints was already incredible\nand rapidly approaching unendurable. In\naddition, it felt like the full weight of my body was pulling on my big toes,\nas they were the only point at which the wall was attached to my lower body. With each passing moment it felt more and\nmore like each toe would be dislocated, actually pulled from my foot.

\n\n

Psychologically, I was frightened most by how vulnerable my spread\nlegs made me feel. The tormenting feeling\nof total unprotected openness, the complete vaginal exposure, the feeling of\nsuch comprehensive nakedness that this position brought with it had to be\nexperienced to be believed. Short of a massive\nphysical assault, there was literally nothing that he could have done to me\nthat was more emotionally devastating than this.

\n\n

He could see the beautiful green-eyed bitch looking up at him. Her eyelids were flickering and there was a\npleading look in her eyes. Sweat was\nalready beginning to run off of her face and impressive chest. Looking down at her, he said, “It’s a little\nlate for begging. You should have\nthought of that earlier, before you began with your games.”

\n\n

At this point, he kneeled on the floor in front of her and closely\nexamined her sex. A quick look up showed\nhim that she’d closed her eyes for this examination. A quick sniff told him she needed to do a\nbetter job of cleaning herself after she’d been with a man. He looked forward to punishing her for this.

\n\n

Her pussy lips were stretched wide apart and much of her moist,\npink vagina was open for his view. \nNodding to himself, he now grabbed the small canvas bag and opened it,\nspilling numerous types and sizes of alligator clips and small vise grip pliers\non the floor in front of the blonde’s pussy. \nWhen she saw this, the girl began struggling as if possessed.

\n\n

While Enrique appreciated her spirit, her effort, he knew that she\nwas going nowhere tied the way she was--none of them ever did. As with all the others too, within about a\nminute, even though she’d calmed down some, she soon started huffing for air\nthrough her nostrils. Sweat was pouring\nnow off of her upper body and face. \nFinally, her muscles quivering under their unaccustomed strain, the girl\njust put her head back until it rested on the wall and closed her eyes as she fought\nthe discomfort, caught up on her breathing and waited patiently for the\ninevitable.

\n\n

How could I ever have thought this man was less evil than any of\nthe others? If only I had known what The Animal had planned to do, I’d have\nfought him until hell froze over. He’d\nhave had to knock me out to get me into this position, if only I’d known. If only….. \n

\n\n

As he picked up the funny looking pliers and looked at me, I\nalready knew how badly these things had hurt me in the past. I closed my eyes and waited for his fateful\nmove.

\n\n

Enrique was on his knees between M’s beautifully toned legs. Although uncontrollably quivering much of the\ntime now, the muscles on the insides of her thighs were taut and muscles stood\nout like cables under her smooth skin. Reaching down, he slowly picked up a pair of\nthe vise grips and showed her how they worked. \n

\n\n

Although she pretended to have no interest, after he felt she had\nbecome thoroughly familiar with them, he lowered them to her vagina. At this point, he pulled out her left labia\nwith the fingers of his left hand and put it into the jaws of the pliers. Both of her vaginal lips were of a perfect\nsize to fit on the head of pliers like these. \n

\n\n

The tender folds of her naked skin were sweaty to his touch and\nfelt quite warm to his fingertips. The\nsmell alone that wafted from between her thighs made him hard as a rock. He spent a minute slowly massaging her\ngenitalia with his fingers before he was ready to get down to business.

\n\n

All pretense of ignoring him was gone now. He watched M desperately throw her body from\nside to side within the limits of her bonds, so he knew that she must be\nwatching him despite herself. Pinching\nher labia, Enrique slowly tightened the jaws of the pliers until they held the\nvaginal flesh firm, but still not tight enough to cause significant pain or\ninjury.

\n\n

He looked into her eyes then and waited almost a full minute\nbefore he slowly began to tighten the jaws of the pliers again. A master at using tools like this, he knew\nexactly how much pain he was causing her at this moment. And yet, it was not something about which he\nwas terribly proud.

\n\n

Almost immediately I felt a crushing, squeezing pressure as the pliers\nbegan to mash the tender folds of my trapped skin. The pain was as bad as anything that had yet\nbeen done to me and it wouldn’t stop, no matter what I did. I tried to throw myself from one side to the other,\nbut it was useless. My wails and howls\nof anguish were made inarticulate by his gag and carried no further than the deck\nof the boat. I knew Bossman must hear me, but didn’t feel the need to intervene.

\n\n

I was doomed…

\n\n

I mostly had my eyes closed as I frenziedly threw myself about against\nmy bindings. But at one point I opened my\neyes and to my absolute horror, I saw him preparing another set of pliers. Frozen now, like a deer looking into car\nheadlights at night, I watched in absolute horror as he reached between my\nlegs, stretched my remaining vaginal lip out and attached the second set of pliers\nto me. After thirty seconds, I felt him\nbegin tightening these pliers as he had the first.

\n\n

With the first touch of the cold steel, I felt myself come back to\nlife and I began my helpless struggles all over again. But it was no use, and God, oh God, the\npain…..

\n\n

After he’d attached the second set of vise grips, Enrique leaned\nback and just watched his victim. What\nhe was doing was similar to how an old western bronc buster would tame a wild\nhorse. Take the horse and hobble it\ntightly, then let it wear itself out fighting its bonds. In the end, it settled down because it soon\nrealized how hopeless it was to continuing fighting; it was just worn out.

\n\n

Enrique just felt that there was something funny about this girl, and he wanted to take her past her supposed\nact of submission, back to the basics and see what she would do.

\n\n

After about a minute, he saw she had finally worn herself out a\nsecond time so he knew it time to get on with it. Enrique was aware that he’d put the pliers on\nher tight enough that she would have bruises shaped like the pliers jaws along\nthe lengths of both of her outer labium. \n

\n\n

She looked at him with teary eyes as he now reached down and tied\nshort ropes to each of the eyebolts that held her hips down to the floor. Next, he took the rope from her left side and\nran it under her left buttock and through a small metal loop attached to the\nend of the pliers on that side. Finally,\nhe pulled the rope tight and tied it off; this in turn pulled sharply to the\noutside the tender skin gripped in the jaws of the pliers.

\n\n

He watched Victoria’s lower back arch even further away from the\nwall as he did this; he watched as her eyes slowly closed and she acquired an\nalmost prayerful look on her face. When\nhe attached to the other set of pliers the second rope located on her right\nside and pulled that labia away from her vagina, the inexperienced blonde\nteenager gave out a muffled scream but never opened her eyes. Her labia were both now tightly stretched\naway from her vagina, exposing her most private parts to the world.

\n\n

The moist pink areas between her legs quickly began to dry in the\nocean air.

\n\n

I prayed I could just endure The\nAnimal, whatever he may do to me. There\nwas nothing else I could do; and oh God, how I hurt down there.

\n\n

Still on his knees in front of her, Enrique looked at M for a\nmoment and figured she was probably about ready for the other clamps.

\n\n

But first he thought he’d use a dildo on her before she got too\ndry. He stood up and walked over to\nwhere he’d dropped them on the bed. Picking\nup the smaller of the two, he walked back and dropped to his knees in front of\nher again. Reaching down, he started to\npush the device into her. But he found\nthere was too much resistance at first. \nHe shook his head and put it down for he just didn’t have the will power\nto go through with this part right now.

\n\n

Now Enrique reached down and grabbed one of the alligator\nclamps. He snapped it a couple of times\nto get her attention and when she finally opened her eyes and looked at him, he\ngrabbed her hair with his left hand and forced her to watch as he proceeded to\nclamp her left nipple. Both nipples were\nerect at this point from her exertions, and the soft buttons made nice pieces\nof flesh upon which to fix the jaws of the clamps.

\n\n

These particular models had little turn screws on them which\nallowed the person applying the device to achieve horrendous pressure with the\njaws. M’s reactions to his application\nof the clamp showed that she entirely agreed with his analysis. Her muffled screaming however, was grating on\nhis nerves, even starting to annoy him a little. But ever business-like, Enrique went ahead\nand put the second clamp on her other nipple. \n

\n\n

He leaned back again and waited another couple of minutes. She was generally motionless now except when\nsome part of her body would independently shake in some weird spasm. Enrique leaned in close to the girl’s face\nand softly asked, “Are you ready to cooperate now? Are you ready to truly cooperate with me\nnow?”

\n\n

I heard him, but didn’t understand at first what he’d asked. The only way I could survive being treated\nlike this was to retreat into that small part of my mind, which although far\naway, was always watching, always awake. \nMy hips were on fire and both of my toes felt like they’d been pulled\nout of joint. My vagina was being pulled\napart and my labia felt like they are being ripped from my body. And finally, but not least of all, both\nnipples felt like someone was crushing them beneath the sharpened heel of their\nshoe. But finally, in answer to his\nquestion, I nodded my head. This seemed\nenough for him.

\n\n

He put both hands on his victim’s jaws and slowly massaged them\nfor a second, then told her, “Okay, here’s how it goes. You’re gonna take me in your mouth and you’re\ngonna give me the best blow job I’ve ever had. \nYou bite me and I’ll knock you out, tie you up with an anchor and throw\nyou overboard. You understand?”

\n\n

He watched her closely and she nodded her understanding.

\n\n

He continued, “As a measure of my faith in your willingness to\ncooperate, I’ll take off one set of clamps. \nIf you make me happy, I’ll the take the other set off too, but your legs\nstay tied. You with me? Are you willing, can you do this with\nme?”

\n\n

At her nod, he reached up and took the gag out of her mouth. When he moved his hands away from her face,\nshe said, “Please take the pliers off. \nOh God, please get the pliers off as quickly as you can. Quickly, pleeease.”

\n\n

I was in agony as he took the gag out of my mouth and finally\nallowed me to talk. My hips were killing\nme but I knew he would not free my legs. I was barely coherent as I babbled, pleading\nfor the pliers to be removed first. The\nonly situation I’d ever been in that in any way compared to the pain Enrique\nwas causing me now was when I’d been forced to ride “the horse.” That had put a crushing pain on my clitoris,\nbut this, this pain radiated throughout my hips and genitals.

\n\n

The way he’d tied my legs ensured my hip joints were stressed\nbeyond belief; the worst part was that they never seemed to go numb. If he wouldn’t free my legs, removing the\npliers which both crushed and pulled on the folds of my skin was a close\nsecond. I never thought I’d feel this\nway, but the clips on my nipples were way down the line when it came to the\nlist of pain and what I wanted removed first.

\n\n

Within a minute, he had both pliers off of her labia. As the last vise grip was removed, he watched\nthe teenager lean back against the wall and take a deep breath. The alligator clips were still tightly\nclamped to her nipples and stuck out obscenely from her chest, but these seemed\nto bother her not in the least now that both pliers had been removed from her\nvagina.

\n\n

There was immediate relief as soon as the vise grips were removed\nfrom both sides of my vagina. My hips were\nstill killing me, but it was a tremendous improvement over what I’d been\nenduring just a minute ago. If all it\ntook was giving him a blowjob, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

\n\n

Enrique let Vicki take a couple of deep breathes, and then he\nknelt on one knee and leaned into the blonde American girl’s face, feeding her\nhis cock. He was semi-erect and she\nwillingly, almost greedily opened her mouth and accepted him.

\n\n

Quickly becoming hard, he drove himself into her for about five\nminutes. Bitch wasn’t particularly good,\nbut he knew in his bones she was definitely trying her best to please him. It seems, he thought to himself, that when a\nwoman like her is chastised sufficiently, she reverts back to her ancient form\nin an attempt to please the men around her.

\n\n

His eyes were closed as he nodded his head; she came from good\nstock.

\n\n

I opened my mouth as he leaned into my face. I accepted him without reservation and tried my\nbest to give him what he wanted. I knew I\nwas completely helpless and under his total control; that he could still do\nanything he wanted to me if he felt like it. \nI desperately tried to please him\nand yet…and yet…I hated myself for every moment that I cooperated with him.

\n\n

When Enrique had had enough for the moment, he pulled out of M’s mouth\nand looked at her again. Tracks of tears\nran down her face and even as she looked at him impassively, he had the feeling\nshe was afraid on the inside as if fearing she had somehow displeased him. Without saying a word, he reached over and\nuntied her left toe from the wall and let her leg down.

\n\n

She cried out and then began crying in pain as her leg finally\nfelt like it had become attached to her body again. He silently watched as she leaned back\nagainst the wall and closed her tearing eyes as the pain in her hip overcame\nher for a second. He then untied and\nfreed her right leg and lowered it slowly to the floor of the boat.

\n\n

Tears of pain once more ran down her face as she silently endured\nthe agony of blood returning to joints and muscles that had been isolated for\nat least half an hour. If nothing else,\nthis reminded him again of what a strong one she really was.

\n\n

The girl still couldn’t move from the floor without the rest of\nher bonds being removed. Enrique took\nhis time, but eventually she was freed of all the ropes. Standing, he looked down on her and then told\nher to get up.

\n\n

Like an ungainly infant, she rolled over to get on all fours,\nneeding to get on her hands and knees before she could attempt to stand. Finally, acting and moving like a seventy\nyear old woman, she struggled up using the end of the bed as a crutch and stood\nin front of him.

\n\n

Without a word, he removed both of the alligator clips from her\nnipples. Both of her nipples were a\ndarker red than normal for her and had an angry, bruised look to them. After this, she stood there with her head\nbowed, taking deep breathes as if that were the most wonderful thing in the\nworld.

\n\n

My knees shook with fatigue as I stood there, nipples red and\nbruised. I still had the fading red\nstripes that marked my bottom from yesterday when Jorge had used his riding\ncrop. My vagina throbbed and my hips\nached terribly. My legs were shaking and\ndidn’t seem to work right and I knew I couldn’t walk yet.

\n\n

I realized I was a mess; my hair was a wreck and my face was stained\nwith tears, my eyes red from crying. But\nwith my heart racing inside my chest, I slowly raised my face and looked at my\ntorturer as I said nothing. I looked at The Animal as if to say, what else do\nyou have for me? I knew it was a stupid,\ndumb, insolent thing to do as soon as I did it, but I couldn’t help myself. He’d beaten me at the time, but I had come\nback quickly afterwards—maybe I had pushed him too hard.

\n\n

While he’d felt some pity for her in the past, the studied insolently\nblank look on her face as she looked at him immediately enraged Enrique. It was as if she’d slapped him in the face. He grabbed her shoulder and roughly pushed\nher in the direction of her bed. She\nresisted a little and he pushed again with all of his strength---she literally flew\nacross the room and bounced on the bed, landing on her back.

\n\n

“Stay on the bed,” he commanded her. But he could see she didn’t want to obey him\nand this enraged him even more. He had\ndone to her what he’d had to do and then he had relented. Now, he felt like she’d taken his pity for\nher and thrown it back in his face.

\n\n

Enrique knew later that he’d lost it when he’d begun ranting about\nthis latest refusal as being her last. \nShe was going to be a ‘humbled slut,’ a ‘tamed bitch’ and that while she\nmay not want to do this with him, she didn’t get to “choose” anything anymore---that\n“choices were for cattle” but not her. \nHe vowed to humble her again and again if she didn’t cooperate.

\n\n

He knew he was being extreme at this point in her education, but\nin the heat of the moment, he felt she deserved it for her last refusal to\ncooperate with him.

\n\n

In truth, it was his pride that had been hurt.

\n\n

Leaning over his victim, he cocked his fist to hit her if she\nshowed any signs of resistance. When\nnone appeared, he roughly rolled her onto her stomach and tied her hands up\nhigh behind her back. He then tied the\nend of the rope off on her collar, ensuring that her bound hands and forearms\nstayed uncomfortably high on her back.

\n\n

Taking another piece of short rope, he connected the ring in her\nslave collar to the head of the bed. Rolling\nher onto her back, he took the loose end of the rope and tied it over the top\nof her breasts so that they were flattened by the pressure of the rope on her\nnipples.

\n\n

I lay on the bed and listened to his tirade. I had stupidly challenged him and now I would\npay. He’d hurt me earlier and he would\ndo it again---I knew this like the sun rises in the east. This whole thing had rapidly spiraled out of\ncontrol for both of us. I’d never\nplanned on challenging him like this. It\nwas crazy of me to have done so and would lead to nothing but pain for me, especially\nsince I had no plans other than passive resistance. Worse, there were at least three other men to\nhelp him if he felt he needed it, and if I defended myself now, what would they\ndo to me then?

\n\n

Hesitatingly, filled with a sense of personal doom, I again withdrew\ninto that special part of my mind and made no effort to fight The Animal as he began preparing me for the\nnext part of his torture.

\n\n

Taking a second piece of rope, Enrique tied it around her left\nankle. Next he tied her ankle tightly against\nthe back of her left thigh, but after a moment of hesitation, decided to leave\nher right leg free. Finally, he tied a\nrope around her right ankle and ran it through the pulley in the ceiling down by\nthe foot of the bed where he’d earlier tied her up against the wall. Enrique now pulled on the free end of the\nrope and dragged her right leg up and towards the ceiling of the cabin. At the same time, this motion pulled her body\ndown the bed until she could no further because of the rope tied to her\ncollar. Pulling her leg as high as he\ncould now, he then tied the rope off at the foot of the bed and just looked at\nher.

\n\n

He’d had all sorts of plans to fuck her and use double dildos and\nclamps on her. But as he looked down, he\nsaw she was in pain and attempting to relieve the stress on her body by weakly\nsupporting herself. The collar was pulled\ntight around her neck and was choking her. \nThe only things she could use for support were just the toes of her left\nfoot as it was tied to the back of her thigh and her bound wrists which had\nbeen tied up by her shoulder blades.

\n\n

The rest of her body wasn’t touching the mattress; not her hips\nnor her head and neck; not her ass nor her legs. Only two points of contact and nothing else;\nand since he’d forgotten to gag her, he could easily hear her heavy strained\nbreathing and occasional whimpers.

\n\n

After a moment, he left. \nForcing himself to wait thirty minutes, he walked back in and without a\nword, let her right leg down from where the pulley held it, untied her left\nankle from her thigh and finally removed the ropes that bound her arms. When he was finished, he turned and left her\nsilently crying on the bed.

\n\n

He knew he’d reached the end when he didn’t want her body anymore,\nbut only to hurt her. He….WAS….NOT….like Manuel and Roberto. He was afraid of what he’d become and knew\nfor sure that she was the last. No more\nwould he do this for Wolf, no matter what he might offer. He also knew he would make an effort to treat\nher better from now on.

\n\n

He was done.

\n\n

The days continued to pass. \nMy training was often brutal, but always consistent. The three remaining men were now\nconcentrating more on technique than anything else now. Each man tutored me in anything they\ndesired. Each man took from me everything\nthey wanted.

\n\n

I thought it must be heaven for the men like them, but knew it was\nhell for me.

\n\n

Day\nNine: Bossman Talks About His Morality And Other Things

\n\n

It was on the afternoon of my ninth day on his rape boat; I was\nexhausted but still somehow looked forward to my time in the sun on deck. Bossman\nand I had talked about things that surprised me, like how he looked at\nmorality. We talked more about my life\nbefore him and what would happen to me now. \nWhen he suggested I had actually learned things about myself, about my\ndeepest desires and needs, I felt like the truth was bursting inside me and I\nfinally could hold it in no longer.

\n\n

“Master, may I please answer you without fear of being\ndisciplined? You’ve always told me to\ntell you the truth—may I speak it freely now?”

\n\n

Wolf nodded his head gravely.

\n\n

“Master,” I said. I had not\nlearned perhaps as much as I should have because my voice was drenched, just a\nlittle, in sarcasm, “You say that you think I’ve learned about my deepest\nneeds. Manuel has taught me how to give\nwhat he calls the perfect blow job. Jorge\nand Enrique have helped him sometimes. \nDuring this time, I’ve probably swallowed a quart of their semen.”

\n\n

He looked at me in surprise. \nThis was not the way I’d talked when they’d grabbed me less than two\nweeks ago.

\n\n

“But I hate it,” I\ncontinued. “I hate what they’re making me\ndo. Do you really think this is teaching\nme anything about my deepest needs?”

\n\n

“You’ve had Enrique and Manuel disciplining me every day. Even now, Manuel still ties me up almost every\nday. I move like an old woman, my\njoints, my back and my legs are always in pain. \nAnd he hurts me a lot---he chokes me and he beats me terribly, EVERYDAY. You think I like being hurt? You think I will learn to enjoy it? That I’ll learn something about myself from\nit? You’re crazy!”

\n\n

There was no sarcasm now, just a pleading tone begging to be\nunderstood; “You’ve always told me to tell you the truth whether it’s what you\nwant to hear or not. Your crew on this\nboat has done awful things to me, Master. \nAnd then laughed at the pain they brought me. Tonight you implied things that just aren’t\ntrue. That I know about your crew. That I\nenjoy being tied up and beaten. That I\nespecially appreciate being tied up and beaten and then raped afterwards.”

\n\n

I barely held back a sob. “I’ve\nbeen made to say things about myself that you know aren’t true. Your crew\nhas gone on and on with these things and I’ve had no choice but to listen to\nthem and do whatever they ordered me to do. \nAnd then tonight, you tell me much the same thing. Master, you know these things are\nuntrue. Oh God, they are so untrue. And you and your men know that!”

\n\n

After a moment he replied, “It’s a fucked up world. There are a lot of beautiful women out there\nand things can go badly for them as well as good for them. For someone else, things go well. You? \nYou’re young and beautiful---but for you, not so much good anymore. It all balances out in the end, but it’s hard\non individuals.”

\n\n

He looked at me and said, “Remember, it’s not what I am, but what\nI do that defines me. Keep that in\nmind.”

\n\n

Bossman looked at her for a minute\nand knew she still didn’t get it. \n“Okay. I’ll show you what I\nmean. Remember Pretty Women? There were\nprostitutes out there who were better looking than Julia Roberts and rich guys\nthat could fall in love with hookers and marry them as well as some other\nwoman. Those weren’t lies.”

\n\n

“But you STILL don’t know yourself. The lie for you was when you began to find\nout what your true nature was; when you continued to tell yourself that you\nbelieved in things you finally knew\nwent against your true nature; when you finally began to realize a few days ago\nwhat those small cravings inside you meant. \nBut you continued to tell yourself you could be happier going straight\nwhen you know now you wouldn’t be.”

\n\n

“The truth is, you’re just as bent as any other person on this\nboat---but you just won’t admit it yet. \nHonest people use that lie to protect themselves, they think it is fun\nnot being in control. Just like hookers\nknow that things are better if someone else is running the show. I know, I know\nyou’d be happier as a pleasure slave if you could just give control to another---but\nyou continue to deny it. But someday, you’ll\nhave to accept who you are---you still have to learn who you are. You will\nbe happier when you do that.”

\n\n

“But I’m careful about the women that come through my hands; what\nthese women never forgot and which you need to remember is that there is a\ncontract between us. If you honor your\npart of the bargain, I’ll honor my side and leave your family alone.”

\n\n

“You need to make sure you know what you want in the end: the\nfemale members of your family going through exactly what you’ve been going\nthrough, only worse, much worse. I\nguarantee I would make their lives a living hell. Or you can honor your commitment to me and\nbecome what I want, fulfilling my every desire until I say otherwise.”

\n\n

I had trouble getting to sleep that night. The next morning, he was gone. He’d left the boat early; there had been no\nwarning of his departure and I’d not found out myself that he was gone until 10\nAM, long after he had already left. Late\nthat night, his last night on the boat, we had talked about his view of me and\nmy future after they had all eaten.

\n\n

Bossman had told her, “You’re in a\nfucked up place emotionally. There’s nothing\nnew or strange about that. Most of the\nwomen I’ve been involved with over the years have gone through the same things\nthat you are now. “Do I give up my freedom in exchange for the safety of those I love,”\n“can I trick him now and maybe escape\nlater,” “do I ever have to truly\ncommit to what he demands of me,” or “can\nI exist in limbo, in a world in which I take it one day at a time pretending to\nbe something that I’m not.”

\n\n

He shook his head, “These are all issues that have been worked out\nmany times before by many women much smarter than you.”

\n\n

Gazing intensely into her eyes, he said, “So let me give you the\nanswer, M, or some of the answers. None\nof the women that I’ve taken have ever been free again unless freed by their\nmaster. None, not one, has ever escaped\nfrom me on her own. I’ve never\nexperienced anything bad for the things I’ve done to these women. You see, I’ve always enjoyed a good\nrelationship with the local police where I live. I keep a low profile and I’m not on any\npolice lists, so I don’t have to worry about them. You don’t know where you are or the name of\nthis boat or the real name of any of the men who are working on you.”

\n\n

“Besides,” he had continued with a small smile, “who’s going to\nbelieve you when you tell them you were kidnapped by big black man that had\nhalf his face covered with a tattoo?”

\n\n

“When you are finally taken to your new master, I guarantee he’ll\nkeep you on a tight leash, literally on a physical leash for the next few\nmonths until he’s sure of you. So you won’t\nbe telling anyone about me. During this\ntime, things will be done to you to absolutely determine whether or not you\nhave truly committed to your new life of slavery or not. “

\n\n

“And if you haven’t truly submitted to your fate, then that will\nbe the worst of both worlds; you’ll still be owned by your Master and the other female members of your\nfamily will join you eventually. And after\nthey’ve been forced to service hundreds of men, they’ll be sold at an open\nmarket, which is the worst place for a female slave to be taken.”

\n\n

“Finally, whether or not you adjust to your new life is up to\nyou. You’re mentally tough, so I figure\nthat if you have a strong enough desire for some peace in your life, you’ll\nadjust. If that drive isn’t strong\nenough, you won’t---and there’s not a thing I can do about that. So I don’t even think about it; I haven’t\nlost a bit of sleep over it. Because in\nthe end, that doesn’t affect the bottom line, which is that you’re mine and\nnothing’s ever gonna’ change that.”

\n\n

At the end of my afternoons with him, I felt I knew my Master as\ngood, and perhaps better than did the men that had worked for him for\nyears. I knew Bossman as a hard master, sometimes a brute and always a tyrant, an\noppressor and as a hard disciplinarian.

\n\n

But he was almost cruel too in his honesty towards himself as well\nas those around him and, oddly enough, there was somehow a sense of quietly\ndistilled straight-forward integrity in him—he may be a monster, but he had a\ncode and he obviously felt he adhered to it. \nWhile he had an innate, natural dignity about himself, the kind of\ninstinctive aristocratic self-regard that is immediately known as authentic, at\nthe same time I often sensed a barely controlled violence lying immediately\nbeneath his calm exterior.

\n\n

He knew himself and never tried to pretend that he was something\nhe was not. When he was pleased, he was\nindisputability a charming man, one that any woman would enjoy being with as\nlong as she didn’t know what he did for a living.

\n\n

Day\nTen: Bossman Has Left the Boat and the\nMen Have Special Plans

\n\n

I woke up the next morning still tired from my disturbed\nsleep. I’d been woken earlier by the\nrunabout leaving, but had gone back to sleep. \nThe sleep had been neither deep nor resting.

\n\n

I once had a marionette when I was about eight years old. I had the boat’s routine down pretty well,\nbut now I understood how it had always danced to another’s tune. By 9 AM I had exercised, showered, eaten and\ncleaned up my cabin. I had rubbed\nmoisturizer onto my legs and arms, particularly concentrating on my feet, knees\nand elbows. I’d taken my supplements and\nmassaged the antiseptic cream onto my breast piercings; I now stood by The Bed\nwaiting for Jorge to arrive, massive butt plug cleaned and back inside me, ready\nto begin the new day of torment.

\n\n

Instead of Jorge coming in first as had always happened before, The Evil One walked in showing me his\nnormal oily, insincere smile. He was\ncarrying a small bag and had apparently talked Jorge into letting him go first\ntoday with me. Looking at me and\nwaggling his eyebrows, The Evil One\nsaid, “I have some special plans for you today.”

\n\n

I didn’t like The Evil One\nand looked at him as only slightly less intimidating and evil than The Demon. But I cooperated exactly with whatever he\ntold me to do, not wanting to give him any more of an excuse than he already\nhad to display his brutality. I was\ndoing my best to convince them that I was cowed and collaborating totally with\nall of their demands. But at the same time,\nI was always scared to death of what this particular bastard might do to me, because\nI honestly felt he was crazy.

\n\n

The Demon may have been banished by Bossman, but his deranged sidekick The Evil One still rode me in his\nplace. And Jorge had made it clear that I\nhad no choice except to cooperate with his twisted fantasies. But despite his warnings, I knew I’d do\nnothing on my own to give him any satisfaction.

\n\n

Manuel didn’t like Victoria. \nIn fact, the first time he’d seen her, he knew he wouldn’t like her. He’d been taking videos and following her for\nover a week on Cancun. She was a\nknockout and had been flirting with guys in a bar in Cancun, but he knew she\nhad no intention of going through with anything.

\n\n

He knew her type. He’d gone\nto a school in Trinidad that had a lot of expatriate kids in it, and although\nhe’d tried to make friends with some of the girls there, they’d pretty much\nignored him---except for when they were mocking him. Many of the expat students in his school were\nfrom the southern US. Since that time\nhe’d always mockingly called any southern girls they took “CP’s” or ‘Confederate\nPrincesses’.

\n\n

Manuel loved his job. He’d\nworked as sort of a contractor for Wolf for quite a few years now, but when the\nman didn’t have a gig going, he worked for himself as a freelancer. The Bossman\nnever wasted his time with anything but the best product, but when he was\nfreelancing, Manuel would grab just about any female he could get his hands\non. There was always a market for pussy,\neven if it wasn’t great looking pussy.

\n\n

Manuel really loved his\njob. Manuel didn’t particularly like\nwomen, but he loved them as the object of his job. He loved having their sweaty bodies lying\nhelpless beneath his hips as he looked into their eyes, seeing the pain and\nshocked disbelief pain in their face. He\nloved hurting women; making them scream, forcing them to cry and groan in\npretend pleasure as he went about making their lives miserable. He especially liked working on goody-girl\nCP’s; mentally, some of them seemed to take it the hardest when mounted,\nbroken, trained and eventually turned into sluts by black men.

\n\n

It seemed like the CP’s he’d been breaking were getting younger\nall the time. This cunt, for example,\nwas still fairly young, not even twenty yet. In the past, they’d generally been in their\nmid to late 20’s and often professionals. \n

\n\n

He especially loved breaking the professionals. They thought they were experienced,\nwell-travelled and hard-headed; they were the ones who had the money to go on\nwhat they had thought would be an exotic vacation to the Caribbean, and South\nand Central America.

\n\n

Instead, they’d run into him and would just disappear from family\nand friends forever. Most of the earlier\nones he’d help break and train would have already been sold again by their\nMasters, but now to pimps. These women\nwere probably crack whores now, infected with incurable STD’s and looking 60\nyears old instead of being in their early 30’s as most of them were. Life was a bitch, he thought, and then somebody\nsold your ass a hundred and fifty or two hundred times a week.

\n\n

In his time, he’d had the opportunity to help break lawyers,\nCPA’s, engineers and even a medical intern once. She’d been great. He liked to keep his pets gagged while he\ntrained them, but not this one. She’d\nbeen smart as hell and he’d made her tell him the medical term of every part of\nher body that he was fucking up, while\nhe was fucking her.

\n\n

It still cracked him up the way she’d whimpered or screamed out each\norgan or orifice and how her voice would crack with pain as she described to\nhim in great anatomical detail how and where he was using a whip on her\ngenitals and what it was doing to her.

\n\n

Manuel really didn’t\nlike Victoria. She reminded him of the\nworst parts of his early life. She was,\nhe thought, spoiled and stuck up, a typical rich American bitch. He knew she thought she was special; her\nparents had probably given her everything she’d ever wanted and he knew a girl\nlike her would never even pretend to notice a man like him. Women like her always saved themselves for\nthe men that had it all. So it was with\ngreat pleasure that he used her body against her, and it gave him even greater\npleasure that it was all against her will. \n

\n\n

He looked at her for a second and then said, “You’re all the\nsame. You think you’re hot shit. But where’s all that confidence now, huh,\nbitch? You’re so fucking pretty, but I’m\nonly the man giving you about eight inches of what you deserve. Haven’t you realized that? That I love to make examples of women like\nyou?”

\n\n

He had to be careful, he always wanted to hurt her. He wanted to humiliate and degrade her. He’d never really needed penetration to enjoy\ndoing a woman. He’d always been able to\nget his nuts off by hurting them and seeing the look of shock and pain in their\neyes. It was that look which really\nturned him on.

\n\n

At the same time, he was not averse to trying to make them cum\nevery now and then, but only because that was what he wanted to do. He didn’t\ngive a goddamm about pleasing them. It\nwas all about manipulation and today he was going to see what it was about this\nparticular teenager that seemed to have turned on every member of the team.

\n\n

The cunt had a fearful look on her face as Manuel first bent her\nover the foot of the bed and roughly half-pulled, half-turned the giant\nthreaded plug out of her ass. Her quick\ngasp and grimace of discomfort made him feel like he was starting the day off\nright.

\n\n

Grabbing a handful of her thick hair, he pulled her head back and\nstuffed a thick, two inch long penis gag into her mouth and fastened it in back\nof her neck. Without a pause, he then\npushed her toward the bed and told the slut to lie down on it naked.

\n\n

Taking a pair of leather wrist cuffs, he put them on her wrists\nand pulled her wrists down by her sides, attaching each arm to small recessed\neyebolts about half way down on either side of her bed frame.

\n\n

Being totally submissive to him, she’d offered no resistance and\nwas now helpless, with her arms now immobilized and pulled away from her\nbody. Taking leather cuffs with D-rings\nattached, he placed them around the cunts’ ankles and tightened them. Then he took a long piece of rope and tied it\naround her waist with the free end at her back. \nFinally, he then ran it down between her legs to the foot of the bed\nwhere he pulled it tight before he tied it off. \n

\n\n

Next Manuel grabbed her left ankle and pulled her impossibly long\nleg straight up into the air and then back towards the head of the bed. Pushing down on the back of her left calf\nuntil her knee was touching the top of the mattress beside her head, he then\nfastened that ankle cuff low down on the corner bedpost. She’d finally started struggling a little and\nbegan making a few mewling noises now, so he knew what he was doing to her\nprobably didn’t feel too good.

\n\n

As with the left leg, he bound her right ankle by tying it very\nlow on the other post at the top of the bed. \nThis time as he began to bind her, she attempted to fight him, but he\njust kept hold of her ankle and leaned into her with all of his weight.

\n\n

Fighting it didn’t do her any good—her bound wrists and the rope\naround her waist ensured that her upper body remained fairly flat on the bed,\nbut both of her ankles were now tied up around her ears and spread a little\nover four feet apart.

\n\n

Coincidently, her long legs allowed him to put a lot of pressure\non her hips in this position---added inducements to behave were always\ngood.

\n\n

In addition to keeping the bitch healthy, the aerobics had also\nkept her flexible enough to be bent almost double. He loved working with women with hidden\ntalents like this.

\n\n

Finally, to make sure she didn’t try to move around on the bed, he\ntook small alligator clips attached to long pieces if twine and clipped one to\neach of the slut’s nipples. He then ran\nthe free ends of the twine to the side of bed closest to each nipple and tied\nit so that each line was taut. No matter\nwhat direction she tried to move, she would find a clip pulling on one of her\ntits. That’d make her want to stop\npretty fucking quickly, he thought to himself with a smile.

\n\n

With my arms tied to the sides of The Bed and my legs spread and tied\nto the bed posts to either side of my head, I suddenly found myself resting\nonly on the upper part of my back and my shoulders. The clips on my breasts were very painful and\nmade me want to keep my chest immobile. My\nlower back and hips on the other hand, were lifted straight up into the air. But my lower back was pulled towards the foot\nof the bed because of the rope around my waist, while my hips were pulled\ntowards the head of the bed because of the pull from my bound ankles. In this position my tormented ass was the\nuppermost part of my body available to view---and the perfect work bench for\nhim.

\n\n

My hips and lower back were killing me in this position and the\njoints in my hips and knees screamed to be released from the terrible pressure he’d\njust put on them. This position and the\npain it caused me brought back immediate and terrible memories of what The Animal had done to me only a few\ndays ago. My hips still ached every now\nand then from that and I still had not fully recovered in other ways from what\nhe’d done to me.

\n\n

The captive girl’s genitals were completely exposed in graphic\ndetail. Her stretched, gaping brown\nasshole now gazed unblinkingly at Manuel with her curved ass cheeks lying in\nemphasis on either side of the hole. The\nhairless pink slit of her cunt was visible just above it, with the little\nshaved pubic hair that remained pointing towards Victoria's belly button.

\n\n

He’d never really taken the time to look at this teen, to really\nfeel what her body was like. So he\nslowly leaned between her legs and slid his hands up the back of her thighs to\nthe area behind her knees. The muscles\nin the back of her legs were now stretched impossibly taut. He was amazed at how soft her skin was, yet\nhow firm her legs were.

\n\n

Her body arched protectively as his hands slowly wandered back\ntowards her vagina and he slowly stroked her. \nShe’d begun to sweat in between the folds of her skin there and as his\nfingers opened up her labia, he exposed the cavern between her legs which all\nof the men on the boat had taken so much delight in filling.

\n\n

Manuel could hear her chuffing for breath through her nostrils—the\nsound of someone struggling to survive amused him. He looked between her thighs and gazed at her\nface. Her green eyes were wide open and\nthe pupils dilated—she must like this, he thought to himself. Manny heard Victoria moan softly as he\nmanipulated her vagina. He explored her\nwith his fingers and marveled at the musky smell she left on him---her\npheromones alone made him so very hard for her. \nHe slowly gave his fingers an exaggerated lick, just for her benefit.

\n\n

“You cunt,” he said to Victoria, “you belong to me today. I don’t give a shit how much you want to do\ngood with me; you’re in my house today. \nAnd it’s always been the house of pain for sluts like you.”

\n\n

Still leaning between her spread thighs, he slowly moved his hands\nup her abdomen until they covered her breasts. \nEven folded in half her stomach was taut with no rolls of excess\nflesh. Her breasts were rather squashed\nwith her knees pushing into the sides of her chest, but he still enjoyed\nplaying with the clips on her nipples for a minute before he let his hands\ntrail back down her belly and between her legs. \nHe noted that she closed her eyes as he explored that part of her body\nagain.

\n\n

She was nude between her legs except for the thin sliver of curly pubic\nhair which had been left on purpose. His\nfingers now explored her ass, with first one and finally two fingers pushed\ninto her. He wiggled them inside her and\nthen spread them apart as far he could while slowly pulling them out of her\nrectum. He heard her give a couple of\nappreciative groans, but he wished she was a little more expressive.

\n\n

Finally, he couldn’t help himself. \nHe seldom had oral sex with the women he trained; eating them seemed so\nnasty since they were generally already so full of other men’s semen by the\ntime he got to take his turn. But she\nwas so fresh this morning, so untouched----so totally available at this moment that it seemed like the right thing to\ndo.

\n\n

Slowly he lowered his face between her legs and let his mouth\ncover her vagina, making such a perfect seal for the suction that followed that\nhe felt her hips jump in pleasure. His\ntongue probed her and she jumped again. He\nslowly licked her vagina with his tongue for a little while longer. He knew she was enjoying this a lot.

\n\n

After giving her a couple of minutes of pleasure with his mouth\nand tongue, Manuel took out a large vibrating dildo and teased it around M's\nclit a bit before inserting it in her now gaping cunt. He easily stuffed it in as far as it would go\nand then switched it on.

\n\n

The overwhelming vibrations immediately made the girl begin bucking\nin her bonds and he smiled with pleasure as she groaned in rhythm with the\nmechanical buzzing sound. He knew the\nslut was in such intense pleasure she just couldn't help thrashing her head\nfrom side to side and moaning through her gag. \n

\n\n

Finally, he stripped and climbed up on the bed with her. He was relatively hard after his initial play\nwith her, but taking his cock and running it over her vagina as it vibrated\nreally turned him on. Finally, he\nremoved the vibrator from where he’d drilled it into her pelvis.

\n\n

Leaning forward and bracing himself with his left hand on the wall\nin back of M, he leaned into her upthrust hips and with one practiced move,\nburied himself up to his balls in her gaping cunt with the first move of his\nhips. She may have been a little dry,\nbut damn, she sure was opened up and waiting for his cock. And when he’d given it to her, she bucked\nlike a goddammed wild woman. God, he\nloved this position for the way it opened these sluts up for fucking.

\n\n

The Evil One was a sick son of a bitch, had always been a sick son of a bitch\nand would always be a sick son of a bitch. He was rough with me from the beginning I\nsupposed, because he liked hurting women. \n

\n\n

He’d thrown me over the bed and almost ripped the plug out of my rectum\nin his haste to fuck me. I couldn’t help\nbut give out a grunt of pain, but he only seemed turned on even more by\nit. After cuffing and gagging me, he’d pushed\nme onto The Bed and then began tying me up. \nUnfortunately, as soon as I realized what he intended, I tried to fight\nhim, but it had been too late.

\n\n

By the time he was done, I was in such a contorted position it was\nalmost impossible to breathe. This\nscared me because Bossman was gone--I\njust didn’t have any confidence in Jorge being able to control Manuel.

\n\n

My body was tied up and I felt the oncoming touches of being\nsick. Yet the impulsive perversity, the\ncontrary willfulness that seemed to be continually building inside me and which\ncontrolled more and more of my thinking reared its awful head once more for\nsuddenly I realized the way he touched me\ndidn’t feel too bad….actually, at times, it felt rather good.

\n\n

A new kind of panic filled me. \nOh my God, I thought to myself, I’m getting used to being touched, to\nbeing controlled by these men. They have my body, I thought, and I can’t stop that, but they’re somehow changing\nthe way I think too.

\n\n

Ice-cold chills shot down my spine as the levels of my pain\nreceded…how could I become so accepting of what these men did to women, so\naccepting of what they were doing to me?\n

\n\n

Mentally, I struggled, fighting the urge to accept my situation,\nto willingly allow them consent to control of every aspect of my\nenvironment. Yet, no matter how I\nfought, it still seemed right in my head to sometimes cooperate with them, to\nopen myself to the urge to allow them to have everything they wanted of me….from me.

\n\n

Despite being helpless, I still didn’t care for the way The Evil One kept running his hands over\nmy body. And I especially didn’t care to\nhave him performing oral sex on me. No\nmatter how determined I’d been to avoid anything that might mistakenly urge him\non or give him any satisfaction, when he’d pushed the vibrator into me, it’d\ngone in so deep and so hard I hadn’t been able to prevent a groan of pain\nescaping from me.

\n\n

Finally, I could tell he was ready. I felt total resignation when he reared up\nbetween my legs and aimed himself into me---the look of intense concentration\nin his eyes, the sweat beading on his upper, the way he held his erection in\norder to better aim---everything he did focused his sexual urges on my helpless\nbody.

\n\n

I closed my eyes as I saw the beginning of the move that would\nimpale me; I knew it was coming, but I still couldn’t stop from crying out even\nas he pushed himself deeply into my dry vagina.

\n\n

The cunt lay underneath him and groaned in pleasure with each of\nhis thrusts into her pussy. Damn, I’m\ngood, he thought to himself. She was\nmoist for him now, and her pussy was warm and even somewhat tight on his\nerection.

\n\n

He knew he had to be careful here. \nThe angle at which he had her tied meant he couldn’t comfortably push\nstraight into her pussy. Instead, he had\nto lean over her and push himself off of the wall at her head or her snatch\nwould force his cock down and away from his body at angle more than was normal\nor comfortable. Last thing he needed was\nto break his dick. At the same time, he\nknew from past experience that this angle of penetration into her pussy didn’t\nfeel too good for her either.

\n\n

The more she responded to him though, the wetter and more\nlubricated she was, the more brutal his moves became until he was urgently\nslamming his hips into hers with no regard for her pain or pleasure. Finally, he’d gotten what he needed and he\ncame in a tremendous burst of semen that went deep into her bound, motionless\nbelly. He held his final thrust in place\ninside her for several minutes after he’d drained his balls into her. It seemed like the tip of his cock was on\nfire as he kept it pushed into the thick, burning pool of ejaculate that had\naccumulated inside the bitch near the top of her cervix.

\n\n

Damn it felt good, he thought to himself.

\n\n

The Evil One raped me in just the way I’d\nexpected him to do. Bastard! What a perverted pig!\nI thought to myself. It had hurt a lot\nwhen he first took me, I hadn’t been moist and wasn’t ready for his penetration. But none of this had stopped him. Yet, as he raped me, I finally became\nlubricated and the pain seemed less cutting inside of me. But most of his thrusts did go deep and they really\ndid hurt me, but if ever I could help myself, I’d be damned if I’d give him the\nsatisfaction of knowing that.

\n\n

His lovemaking style was a seemingly endless series of loveless\nlunges and penetrations into a woman who would never respond in kind. He not only buried himself in my vagina, he pushed\nmy pelvis toward the wall with his hips in an attempt to further contort my\nbody and drive me through the bottom of the bed. Even though it felt like my arms were being\npulled out of their sockets, eventually, it was over. He groaned appreciatively and leaned into me,\nresting on my hips and using his weight to drive my shoulders into the mattress\nand then hold them there as he caught his breath.

\n\n

I looked at him leering down on me and then closed my eyes and\nturned my head away from him as best I could. \nAt first he seemed to be satisfied with what he’d done to me, but within\nmoments I had glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes and his face had taken\non a darker look. This was a man who\nhated being disrespected…..

\n\n

At first he felt good about having done her, but after a moment\nsomething different came to mind. He\nlooked down at her suspiciously and said, “You know, you stupid cunt, most\nwomen don’t like being fucked like that. \nSomething about the angle that I’m pushing into them or something. But you, you bitch; you moaned like you loved\nit the whole time. There’s something\nrotten about you.”

\n\n

With that, he pulled out of her, got off the bed and stalked\nout. He was gone for a second, but\nreturned with a short, supple cane whip. \nHe was flaccid now, but even then, he was as large as most men when\nerect. His penis hung down on his left thigh\nas he returned; it gleamed slickly and looked moist from her juicy pussy.

\n\n

He got back on the bed between blonde teenager’s legs and showed\nher the whip, bending it back and forth to show her how flexible it was. Pleasurable anticipation washed through him\nas he watched the cunt’s eyes widen in horrified recognition. She went nuts struggling, shaking her head\nand trying to free herself from the wall; all he could do was laugh at her\npathetic attempts.

\n\n

“Fucking pussies,” he said, mangling his metaphors, “on the other\nshoe now, isn’t it bitch?”

\n\n

Manuel took the vibrator he’d put down a few minutes ago, turned\nit on and then stuck it all the way into her gaping hole again in one smooth\nmove of his wrist. Her body arched in\npain and there was a juicy slurping sound as it went in; he knew his semen was\nstill pooled right at the entrance to her cervix, and that had helped make that\nsexy, incredibly wet sound. He thought\nthis was funny too---just let her stew in his juices for a while. Then he picked up the cane whip and cracked\nit once in front of Victoria’s face.

\n\n

Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure it had been a good idea to just go with\nthe flow with this man. I’d been so\ninvolved in thinking that I was controlling the game that I’d forgotten that there\nwere still some rules of which I either wasn’t aware or over which I had no\neffect. When he came back in with the\nwhip, that’d scared the hell out of me. Everything he did scared the hell out of\nme from this point on!

\n\n

Without warning, Manuel hit me viciously in my genitals with his\nwhip. It burned and stung like acid and left\na continuous red mark that began on the right side of my lower stomach, went\nimmediately over my clit and continued on the left side of my vagina where my\nlabia were pushed out by the vibrator. \nIt then went on up the inside of my left thigh a little before going\nback down and ending on the underside of my left buttock.

\n\n

Tears blurred my eyesight. \nIt stung like fire and my clitoris felt like someone had just held a\nlighted cigarette to it. I was so\nshocked I couldn’t make a sound at first. \nI bucked a couple of times, and then finally gave a muffled scream of\npain and arched what little I could in an attempt to move my private parts away\nfrom any further assaults that might come from him. He looked at me for a second, touched his fingers\nto his tongue to get them wet with his saliva and then slowly ran them over the\nred streak on my flesh which was rapidly turning into a nice red welt.

\n\n

Slowly, taking his time, he cocked his arm back with the whip and\nlooked into my eyes. I was pleading with\nhim with my eyes and through my gag, but it did no good as he whipped me again\non my genitals, but now on the other side of my vagina. I was screaming and throwing my body from\nside to side in a desperate but futile attempt to free myself from his\nbonds.

\n\n

Manuel laughed and said in a light tone, “Beg for your life, honey.” He listened to her screaming and crying, and\nwatched her body jiggle with fear. But\nthere was nothing coherent coming from her because of the gag.

\n\n

“You‘re gonna have to do better than that, sweetie. You can’t treat men like you do and not\nexpect to pay for it. Beg, you bitch!””

\n\n

He took his time, hitting her not more than once a minute on the\naverage. Manuel removed the vibrator\nfrom her pussy after about five minutes because it seemed to be getting in the\nway of his whip. After less than ten minutes\nof being whipped, the girl was covered with sweat and had been reduced to a\nscreaming, whimpering wreck, even as she continued begging him through her gag\nto stop.

\n\n

It was an amazing sight, but he could actually see slut’s anal\nsphincter straining, the puckered brown hole opening and closing as if it were\na fish gasping for air! Manuel thought\nthis was hilarious. The insides of her\nthighs, her cunt, her ass and her belly were covered by a fine crisscross\npattern of red that was rapidly rising into welts.

\n\n

Finally, he hit me again with the hardest stroke he’d used so far,\nand it was at an angle that allowed him to rip both sides of my vagina with one\nblow. The agony was too much for my body\nand suddenly I lost control of my bladder. \nUrine began to squirt up and out from between my hips. Totally humiliated, I tried to stop, but\ncontrolling myself was impossible.

\n\n

It pooled between my legs and ran down my rear. It ran down the front of my body around and\nbetween my breasts. Almost immediately I\nwas lying on my shoulders in a small puddle of my own urine. After a moment, I ultimately was able to\nexert some influence and the stream of yellow slowed to a trickle and finally\nto a stop. I closed my eyes and turned my\nburning face away from The Evil One. He\nhad done this to me, may he rot in hell.

\n\n

This was the\nfirst time, Manuel\nthought to himself, that anyone had\nreally just sat down and given a nice whipping to the lying bitch. Maybe that’s what she’s needed all along.

\n\n

He walked out and talked with Jorge and Enrique. Jorge was furious with what he’d done; while\nthey both agreed that she was hiding something, it was probably impossible to\ndo anything more with her right now what with the being soaked and all.

\n\n

After a little while, Manuel walked back in and untied the blonde\nbitch, all the while belittling her, telling her what a poor excuse for a cunt\nshe was and how unworthy she was. \nFinished with her for today made her clean up after herself. Under his piggish eyes, the freshly whipped\ngirl moved slowly and with difficulty as she changed the sheets and used enough\nfreshener to get rid of the smell.

\n\n

Manuel watched her take a quick shower before Enrique\narrived. She moved stiffly and was in no\nshape to take on another one of these men, let alone two more, but that didn’t\nreally matter to any of them.

\n\n

It was late and I was lying in bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept rocking myself, like a child. Part of me felt empty inside, more so than\nusual. I hurt all over, but mostly I was\nin pain between my legs. For the first\ntime, there had been a razor left in the shower and I had used it. I shaved my legs, the same number of strokes\non each leg. An absurd need for symmetry\nI had not needed in years. I carefully\nmoved again to try to get in a more comfortable position, but the giant rubber\nplug in my butt wouldn’t allow it. I\ndidn’t think that it was an accident that this had happened on the day that Bossman had departed the boat.

\n\n

I thought back to yesterday afternoon. He was gone now and, God help me, I missed\nhim somehow. While I knew many would\nconsider him an awful man, he also was also the mainstay that kept everything\ngoing smoothly on this boat. He’d also\nsaved me from the maniac Roberto and I owed him my life.

\n\n

More than that, I had finally realized there was something more\ngoing on with him than he’d ever let on to me before. I’d gone over this in my mind, time after time\nagain. And it always added up to one\nimpossible fact.

\n\n

Yesterday afternoon, he’d begun talking to me, steadily looking\ninto my eyes as he did. He talked about\nhimself and things he had done in the past. \nHe spoke about me and his insights into why I was the way I was. He talked about the future---his and what he\nwould do next, and about mine---I had none. \n

\n\n

I’d listened though. I had\nfirst been aloof, then curious, and finally sympathetic; I’d studied his broken\nface and his eyes had been eloquent as I listened. But I had not guessed his secret. Not until my last look—strange, deep,\npotent—had I even begun to fathom there were things going on here that I would\nnot know until it was too late. He’d\nalready be gone by then.

\n\n

And now, with intelligence and a woman’s intuition, Victoria went\nover in retrospect the previous meetings that she’d had with Bossman. \nAt first there had been the quick, brutal sex. But she felt that it was somehow more than\nthat now, and the afternoon talks with him had eventually made that clear. And finally, after a long review of her time\non the boat, the truth she suddenly discerned made her sharply catch her\nbreath---he cared for her, Bossman\nhad fallen in love with her!

\n\n

Her intuition declared this, while her intelligence screamed and fought\nand denied it. Never before had she been\nafraid to look into herself, but she felt something here that could not explained. Now she was finding unknown depths of\nfeeling, secret chambers of dreams into which she had never let the light;\nstrange instinctive activities, more physical than mental. When in her life before had her heart ever\nbeat like this?

\n\n

Victoria finally cried herself to sleep. That night, for the first time she had nightmares. In her dreams, she was always chased by this\nhuge fish that tried to eat her. It was\nan abnormal fish, like a video-game fish. \nThen, Bossman always came into\nthe picture and saved her.

\n\n

Day\nTwenty-Six: Victoria Watches Television

\n\n

Victoria’s lower back had been in bad shape for a couple of days\nafter Manuel’s attentions; she could barely walk, but the demands on her body\nfrom the men never ceased. It took two\ndays for most of the marks from the whippings to begin to disappear from her\nbody, but it took months for her mind to really heal. However, her remaining time on the boat was\nless eventful than the day on which she had been whipped---if one ignored the\nrapes, the sodomies, the beatings and torture and the bondage.

\n\n

I think it was now the morning of my twenty-sixth day on the hellboat. Bossman\nhad now been gone for fifteen days, but I still thought of him daily. The more I thought of him, the more my\nemotions changed, the more I found myself idealizing him. I sighed, then lay still for another\nmoment.

\n\n

I got up and went through my early routine in preparation for the\nday’s training. The early part of the\nday was always okay, but to get through the rest of the day I had learned to\nput my body on cruise-control and shut my mind down for the most part.

\n\n

Odd thoughts whizzed through my mind, strangely inappropriate for my\nsituation. I realized how much I missed\nthe companionship of another woman; I thought about how much I missed my aunt\nand parents, and I wondered how my friends were doing in school. It was crazy, but I even wondered how the football\nteam was doing.

\n\n

I wondered if an event like my kidnapping brought my family closer\ntogether or splintered them apart. I\nguess it depended upon how thick the glue was which had already been laid. I already knew my aunt had remained strong,\nbut now, with 24-hours news and the internet, anyone with cable or an internet\nconnection could see how this event had affected my family. When it is your family’s worst nightmare made\npublic, made entertainment, made eternal. \nThe memory of it to my family could never be blocked, the horror was\nonly a few channels or clicks away.

\n\n

I shook my head, forcing these thoughts away. While waiting for the first of them this\nmorning, I thought back to how I’d been trying to handle them. I’d submitted and pledged my cooperation, but\nthat did not include any promise of giving, of loving, of warmth. They’d inadvertently had that a few times,\nbut none had cared enough to determine how they’d dragged that emotional response\nfrom my resisting body.

\n\n

Even so, I found myself cooperating with their physical demands\nmore and more easily. Like a mental\ncontagion, it was so much more difficult in the beginning, but got\nprogressively easier. It began with\nlimits, but those limits just dissolved over the space of a few days or a\ncouple of weeks.

\n\n

Sometimes, it was as if I almost found myself willingly satisfying their lust and their demands. The first time I had capitulated to their\ndemands had been the most difficult. But\neach additional step, each new act seemed just a little easier for me to\nperform than the one before.

\n\n

And soon, it wasn’t difficult at all to convince myself it really\ndidn’t matter….I mean….how far it seemed I was actually willing to go.

\n\n

This last frightened me when I finally realized how far I had gone,\nhow far gone I was, how despicable the men actually were and how complicit I\nhad been in my own degradation. But\nworse, it was what they had done to my mind, my self-values, my morality that I\nfeared the most---sometimes I just felt like I was going insane or was already\nschizophrenic.

\n\n

Bossman was long gone, but he still\nhaunted my dreams. I had merely promised\nhim I would go along passively, without vocal or physical resistance. As contradictory as it sounds, even as it\nbecame increasingly easy to give these men what they demanded, it was becoming\nmore difficult to contain my venom toward them; to restrain that increasingly\nstrong, almost automatic instinct to oppose or thwart them.

\n\n

At the same time, I had to remind myself constantly that I dare\nnot go too far without the risk of losing their promise to leave my family\nalone. I just knew that the terrible\nthings being done to me on this awful boat made me, a few times, lose my touch\nwith reality.

\n\n

Despite the realization I had no other choice, I still hated myself\nfor agreeing so easily to the bargain that I’d made, for putting myself in a\nsituation where I was continually being forced to submit to them sexually. Yet this self-hatred was somewhat relieved by\nthe knowledge that I hated my captors even more; that I abominated and abhorred\nthem with a passion which could not be articulated.

\n\n

I know it was a feeble attempt at self-justification, but the fact\nwas that I hated them with a passion even as I cooperated with them. What they did left me filled with a hate\nfilled drive to retaliate against their inhumanity, to obliterate each of the\nremaining three from the face of the earth. \nEven Jorge was now included in this group.

\n\n

But I couldn’t do anything because of my bargain with Bossman.

\n\n

Right now, I was waiting for the nightmare to begin again. I just wanted them to hurry, to come into my\ncabin so that I could have it done with, so that I could earn my temporary\nescape onto the deck above and into the sunlight. The\nEvil One apparently was first today, since he’d earlier dropped off what I\nwas to wear first this morning. \nSurprisingly, it was a nice, decent skirt and blouse combination.

\n\n

I dressed and then waited for them, as I had so many times before\nin the last few weeks.

\n\n

Jorge, The Evil One and The Animal walked into my cabin en masse\nand I leapt from my seat to assume the hated position that recognized their\nsuperiority, which acknowledged I was owned by another. Instead of one of them taking me to The Bed,\nthey began to set up a small laptop and connect it to the TV. When all was ready, The Evil One pulled a chair near the bed and instructed me to sit\nin it and watch. I was not to move until\nthey gave me permission to do so.

\n\n

As the other two men hooked up the laptop to the TV monitor, Jorge\nbegan to explain. He said, “Every now\nand then over the last ten years, we’ve been able to “recruit” a talent that is\nsimply far superior to what we are normally able provide to our clients. When this occurs, we take extensive videos of\nthis woman while she is being trained.”

\n\n

Manuel now took over the explanation. “You may wonder, you stupid woman,” he said,\n“What this has to do with you? Well,\nwe’ve made the half hour film which starts with you on Cancun and ends\nyesterday with us still training your sorry ass. When we can, we’ll finish by taping a few\nhours of your first days with your new Master---assuming he approves.”

\n\n

He continued, “When we grab a piece of ass that is beautiful\nenough to make it worth our while, we create a sort of dark web “how-to” file\nfor the business. Think of this as a\nYouTube-type presentation….except that this video is for private consumption\nand will never be posted on the\ninternet.”

\n\n

“I want you to know I don’t think you are at that level, but I am at a disadvantage, for the certainly others\ndo. Your current Master allows us to\nmake and sell these files. We get to\nkeep the profits and they make us much money in Asia, Eastern Europe and Latin\nAmerica. I can tell you that all men around\nthe world are the same; they just love\nto see the real-time process of a beautiful young woman being broken and\nsexually enslaved; and they’ll pay a lot of money to see it. So thank you for offering to help us make\nthis film.”

\n\n

I sat in my chair with my mind blanked by shock. The Evil\nOne was a coarse, vulgar man and I’m sure this is the effect he wanted to\nhave on me. I wasn’t even thinking about\nwhat the film might mean to me. Instead,\nI felt both embarrassed and angry that he could still be so successful in\nmanipulating me after all that had occurred in this place of pain. I knew I was so much harder inside now than I\nhad been even a couple of weeks ago, so why did he still so easily bother me\nlike this? I had no answer to this\nquestion.

\n\n

The TV screen now flickered into life and I saw a relatively\namateur screen which proclaimed it to be Volume Number 7 of the “The Collectors,” followed by “Recruiting M” on the next line. This was followed on the next screen by a\nstandard disclaimer which proclaimed that everyone involved in making this\nmovie was a paid model and that the whole thing was a piece of fiction. A wave of mirth worked its way around the\ncabin.

\n\n

Huh, thought to myself, I’m a paid model.

\n\n

While Victoria was not aware of this, six previous movies had\nalready been made in this series. The\nfirst was of the self-important brunette lawyer with the long brunette hair from\nAmsterdam. Wolf had been so infuriated\nby her arrogance that he’d insisted that a record be made of the Dutch lawyer’s\ntotal humiliation and subjugation, recording every detail of her being broken\nand of her pride being shredded, all so that he could view her total\nenslavement over and over again at his leisure long after she was nothing but a\ndistasteful memory.

\n\n

And so the practice had begun. \nHe had not done his usual psychological workup on Dutch the bitch; it\nwas a grudge thing from the beginning. \nHe didn’t care what made her tick, what her strengths and weaknesses\nwere---he just wanted to humiliate and break her.

\n\n

The Dutch lawyer had fought well for two days and then her will\nand internal strength had collapsed suddenly and unexpectedly early on the\nthird day. While it gave all of them\nsome measure of satisfaction to be fucking and humiliating this gorgeous bitch\nas much as they’d wanted, in the end she hadn’t presented the challenge they\nhad either expected or needed.

\n\n

These men lived and survived in a personal and professional\nsewer. But they’d broken her too easily\nand dragged her down so deeply into the gutter that she had in the end been below\neven them. For being such a haughty\nbitch, there’d been no real challenge and she’d earned no respect for being\ntough. It was then that her real degradation,\nher real punishment had begun, but whether for her previous attitude towards men\nor because of the weakness of character she’d showed the team, none of the men\ncould really say.

\n\n

This European woman’s subsequent treatment---there was no real\ntraining at this point---had been brutal even for the boat boys. The men continually performed more and more\nsevere acts both with her and upon her, always searching for new and innovative\nways to give her agonizing pain no matter how well she performed or how deeply\nshe abased herself. This woman was\nintelligent and beautiful, but that didn’t matter---she was broken like the\nlowest beast on earth and tamed like the cheapest mare to ever be taken for a\nride.

\n\n

A truly beautiful woman, her breasts had been full and high, her\nlegs long and shapely… The men enjoyed every inch of her body. She’d been branded and pierced and whipped;\nshe’d been slapped and beaten, punched and pinched and spanked; she had been\ntwisted into knots by ropes until her muscles had cramped unmercifully; her\nhair and skin had been pulled and she’d been ridden by them and had ridden the\nwooden horse; she’d experienced long periods of machine pain and electrolove\nand enemas; they’d used weights to crush her arches and to pull down on her\nlabia and nipples; pliers and clamps had been draped off of her body every day.

\n\n

Every imaginable piece of equipment in Wolf’s possession that would\ngive her the fancy'd pain he felt she\nso richly deserved had been used enthusiastically and repeatedly on her slowly\ndeteriorating body.

\n\n

She’d never carried any extra weight; that was one of the things\nthat had initially made her such a sexy bitch. \nBut by the time that she’d completed her training for the slavery that\nwould put an end to her legal career, she’d lost weight and her face had become\ngaunt. They’d fucked her brains out for\ntwo weeks and showered her with punishment long after she’d been broken.

\n\n

She’d been a cunt before they’d turned her into a whore; and a\nslut and a cunt she had remained to them afterwards. By the end, she’d become a broken-back old\nmare to them---fit to be ridden, but not to be seen with.

\n\n

And not a one of them felt any compassion for her when they found\nout that Wolf had sold her to one of the cheaper whore houses in Panama\nCity.

\n\n

Basically, what goes around comes around and the bitch had deserved\nit. Every man involved knew she wasn’t\narrogant to men anymore---she’d been completely cowed and broken, tamed of any\nattitude. Rather, she was licking their\nshoes now---and their balls if told to.

\n\n

She never again would be allowed to practice law as an equal to\nmen; all she was good for now was to be ridden like the hag she was until her\nlooks fled. Then she’d be allowed to do\ntheir laundry for her meals and perhaps help her master every now and then when\nsome young woman new to the trade needed to be broken in. They knew that a bitch like her would be more\nthan glad to help enslave other women if she thought it would benefit her in\nany way.

\n\n

The next to have her debasement documented on video was the blonde\nAustralian bride kidnapped in South America on her wedding day. A gorgeous young woman who thought she had her\nlife ahead of her, she‘d fought them hard for four days before breaking. Wolf had spread a few anonymous rumors in the\ncity from which she’d been taken and soon it was being reported on local TV\nthat she was unstable and that she’d run away from her wedding and her\nfiancé.

\n\n

She’d been desperately in love with her fiancé—her love for the\nman was what had allowed her to fight them for so long. But the final straw was when Wolf arranged\nfor her to watch a live broadcast of the disappointed and angry groom as he was\ninterviewed on television. Bitter and\nloveless now, basically he had written her off as a faithless psycho.

\n\n

Wolf had let her watch the interview and after everything else\nthat had been done to her, she’d almost lost her mind when he had removed the\nanchor that gave her strength. When she\ncame apart, she cracked all the way, ending up at the very bottom and retaining\nonly shreds of her sanity.

\n\n

Even though psychologically she was a mess, the team had still\nnever deviated from her training. At\nWolf’s directions, they’d forced her to wear different bridal lingerie while continually\nbeing raped and tortured; this single requirement alone which Wolf had of her\ntormented the young woman beyond belief. \n

\n\n

At the same time, she was finally able to again approach\npsychological stability only because of the Wolf. He took her once at the beginning of her\nindoctrination and never touched again while his team was still in the process\nof training her.

\n\n

Instead he’d acted as a counterweight to her torment, spending a\nlot of private time on deck with her. It\nwas only through his conversation and counseling that she was able to come back\nand feel that she had something for which to live again. He’d in effect, become her new anchor in\nlife.

\n\n

After he’d had her with him for that extra month she was much more\nstable, well trained and now thoroughly in love with him; she didn’t want to\nleave him. Now that she was doing\nbetter, he was able fuck her hard until he was pretty sure she was pregnant and\nthen he’d sold her to some acquaintances in the British East Indies. He might have kept her a little longer but\nfor having been impregnated by one of the men. \nIn any case, he made sure she was gagged and handcuffed as he prepared\nher for delivery, for he wasn’t in the mood for a scene. Bottom line, he didn’t want kids around and\nhe’d never had a second thought about her after that.

\n\n

The third to have a rental movie made of her fate was a young real\nestate agent in her early 20’s they’d noticed working late one night in Belize. She was originally from Spain and had long\nbrown hair and green eyes. She was tall\nand on the slim side, but she had a great body. \nTiny waist, spectacular legs and ass, and nice breasts all combined to\nmake her a knockout.

\n\n

But she’d grown tired of what she had called the post-Christian European\ndecadence and secularism that had surrounded her in Madrid. So she’d moved to the Caribbean to take\nadvantage of the slower life style there. \nShe’d been religious and was that rarest of the rare now days, a\nvirgin. Because of her “condition” she’d\npresented a particular set of problems to the men while being processed and\ntrained. But they were up to the\nchallenge and it had only taken them a little over two days before she’d\nfinally broken.

\n\n

Like their current project, she was naïve about certain aspects of\nlife and rather immature. Like all of\nthe others too, she was subjected to the usual physical coercion---and to this she\nstood up to this well.

\n\n

Even as she remained a virgin, she was mentally unprepared for the\nbrutal and continued anal rapes to which they’d subjected her. In the end the mental degradation and\nhumiliation being sodomized was what broke her and not the physical pain.

\n\n

She’d cried all the time on the boat after that no matter what\nthey did or didn’t do to her and they all were ready to dump her ass overboard\nwhen her new Japanese owner had finally picked her up. Although she was the proverbial pain in the\nass, Wolf always looked back with fondness at the time that he’d been able to\nsample that superb, tight young body.

\n\n

The fourth to have her story told on film was a young woman now from\nthe Dominican Republic, but whose father had originally come from Germany to\nwork for the local government. She was a\nmagnificent twenty-three year old brunette and they’d first noticed her when\nshe’d competed in a contest on the beach to see who could create and wear the\nsmallest bikini.

\n\n

She’d won hands down as all she wore were very small banana-shaped\npieces of white cloth taped to her nipples and over her shaved pussy---her ass\nand everything else had been left bare.

\n\n

This girl had long shapely legs, long brown hair, brown eyes and a\nbeautiful smile. Her skin was tanned a\ndeep nut brown by the summer sun and she was just a gorgeous girl that loved to\nshow off her body to appreciative males. \nThe Wolf was deeply appreciative. \n

\n\n

Even before he took her he knew everything about her body that he\nneeded to know; that she shaved her pussy, that the small-aureoled nipples on\nher unconfined breasts rode high on her chest, and that her ass was tight and\nfirm without the need of corset or confining and body shaping under garments.

\n\n

A medium-sized hurricane gave them cover for her kidnapping. They’d been watching her for over two weeks\nby the time the hurricane warnings were being given, so all they’d had to do\nwas find a safe cove for the boat and then lurk around the capital city until\nthe storm hit. In the ensuing chaos they\nwere able to grab her without being detected. \n

\n\n

The men found it almost an honor to be with her, since she’d\nfought them as hard as she could for over six days before she’d finally had\nenough. But once she recovered from the\ninjuries inflicted during her initial processing, she’d become a favorite of\nall of them. She was finally submissive,\ntotally cooperative, sexually experienced and quick to learn all of the men’s\nfavorite moves; she was a sexy bitch and a natural-born whore. She did her best to please them right up to\nthe very end. They’d all felt a little\ndown when Wolf had sold her to some Arabs living in Buenos Aires.

\n\n

The fifth woman to have her story made into a movie was a fabulous\nlooking, long-haired blonde from California who was just starting to have some\nluck in the movies. They’d grabbed her\naway from her boyfriend while both were on vacation on Andros Island; the team\nhad spent a luxurious three days working on her before she finally broke.

\n\n

It took her a day to recover physically before they could begin\ntraining her and in the end, it turned out that she was faking her submission\nto them. Once she tried to escape and\nthey knew that she had been playing them, as promised, her time on the boat\nbecame as brutal as that of the lawyer from Amsterdam.

\n\n

Her perfidy had been discovered by Jorge and he was the cruelest\nof them all in that situation; even more so than Roberto. While her acting ability hadn’t been good\nenough to pull off her role of a lifetime, it had been just good enough to\nensure she was brutally violated non-stop for the next month. They had even brought in two Great Danes to\ndo her on the video at the end. For four\nweeks, her muffled moans and wails of anguish were music to their ears and no\none had cared when Wolf had sold her to one of the worst pimps in central\nMexico.

\n\n

This whoremaster was infamous for the way he mistreated his string\nof women and he always needed replacements. \nWolf had sold her cheaply, asking only that she be given to the worst of\nthe pimp’s clients for the first year. \nOnly twenty-three years old, it’d only been a couple of years since she’d\npassed through Wolf’s hands but already her looks were gone.

\n\n

Her new pimp had immediately hooked her on crack; now HIV\npositive, she’d aged thirty years in the last eighteen months.

\n\n

As for Hollywood, it never missed a lesser talent like hers and her\nabsence was explained among insiders as a common occurrence for the marginally\ngifted as they went back home to Omaha or Bismarck or wherever else they might\nhave originally come from.

\n\n

It seems a movie producer she had previously met at several\nparties had actually seen her once while she was whoring on the street when he\nhad been surveying a movie location, but he’d passed it off as a coincidental\nsimilarity. She too had seen the\nproducer and had hidden from him, not wanting anyone to know what she’d\nbecome.

\n\n

Her family never did find out what had happened to her.

\n\n

The sixth film detailed the breaking and training of a mother and\ndaughter pair from Minnesota. The mother\nhad been thirty-two and her daughter sixteen---she’d had her child when she\nherself was only sixteen. After the\nmother’s experience with a weak man who’d finally left her, she’d become a\nmilitant feminist. Coming from a\nrelatively wealthy family, she’d never had to marry and had instead raised her\ndaughter by herself. Needless to say,\nboth females had what the Wolf called “a wrong attitude towards men”.

\n\n

The pair had been on vacation in Grenada when the young girl was\nnoticed by one of their talent scouts as she was tanning herself on the beach. Definitely a “Lolita” type, the team had\noriginally planned on taking only the teenager, but soon found the mother to be\nan excellent chaperone---they couldn’t get to the daughter alone.

\n\n

So in the end, both women had been taken from a jeep they’d\nchartered while visiting the mountains on the island. The logistics of having two females on the\nboat at the same time had proven to be daunting, but in the end it was decided\nto put the women in the cabin on alternate days in order to have video of\nboth.

\n\n

The mother had short blonde hair and had worked hard to keep\nherself in shape. She looked as if she\nwere actually a slightly older sister to the teenage girl. She had a fabulous build and while a little\nolder than the women they normally trafficked, she was still an exquisitely\nsexy example of mature femininity.

\n\n

Her daughter had shoulder length honey blonde hair and was a\nbeautiful teenaged girl—almost on a level with M. While not yet totally filled out, if her\nmother was any example, she too would be drop-dead gorgeous in a year or\ntwo.

\n\n

The mother had initially fought like a lioness to protect her\ndaughter, while the teenager had appeared to be in some kind of shock. One advantage the two had inadvertently furnished\nWolf was their strong, almost militant belief in feminism. But his team took delight in showing the two\nagain and again the fallacy in their passionate belief in the superiority of\nwomen---at least the physical superiority.

\n\n

The other tool the two gave him was their strong feelings for each\nother. There was a deep mother/daughter\nlove between the two, so it was easy to use this as leverage against them from\nthe beginning. If one cooperated, the\nother would not be hurt, and vice versa. \nIt worked like a charm and within forty-eight hours both females were\ndeterminedly, if not enthusiastically collaborating in their mutual degradation.

\n\n

As usual, the training on the boat had lasted over a month and the\nmen had lazily enjoyed every minute of it---having as the daily prize their\nchoice of a beautiful woman in her sexual prime or that of her beautiful young\ndaughter just about to enter her own sexual peak.

\n\n

What made it even more delicious for the men was that the boat was\nsmall enough that mother and daughter each knew what was happening to the other\npretty much at all times. The deliciousness\nof the torment each felt as the other was being sexually brutalized can only be\nimagined. Sometimes, even often, a man\nwould take both of them one after the other; these two females had filled the\ncrew’s days and nights with continuous sex. \n

\n\n

Despite her militancy, the mother was a pragmatist and had quickly\nunderstood that it was her destiny to involuntarily service numerous men each\nday for as long as she kept her looks. \nIt had taken her two days longer to finally accept the same was probably\ninevitable for her teenaged daughter too. \n

\n\n

She did her best to try to protect her daughter, to make a deal in\nwhich they could do their worst to her, but would spare her daughter. She had little to offer but her body---but\nthat was worthless coin for the men already had that---and family money. The men knew it would be stupid to attempt to\nget money from her family for her and so they refused.

\n\n

In the end, the only concession granted the mother was on a whim---but\none which they honored explicitly, enthusiastically and repeatedly---was that\nif any of the men felt the need to get rough, to really hurt one of the two\nwomen, only she would was to be used that way. \nIn return, she’d promised that she would satisfy their every sexual\ndesire, no matter how extreme the act demanded of her as long as her daughter\nwas exempt.

\n\n

The mother had been as good as her word and the men had put her\nthrough an excruciating hell of sexual torture, punishment and bondage. She’d done everything she was ordered to do\nand had given them willing access to every part of her body they wanted.

\n\n

She sweated under them and she groaned as they did things to her\nbody that nature hadn’t intended; numerous times each day she’d been forced to\ngag herself with a towel or bedding to muffle her involuntary screams of\npain.

\n\n

She always attempted to hide from her daughter the bruises and the\nwelts that eventually covered her body. She\ndesperately worked at concealing her sacrifices, but there was no way to hide\nthe limping stiffness of movement caused by the bruised and strained thigh\nmuscles, the soles of the feet that had been beaten and the arches that had\nbeen bruised and crushed by weights, and the excruciatingly sore vagina and brutalized\nanus.

\n\n

Mother and daughter were allowed to meet once a day and she did\nher best to hide from her daughter her sacrifices for her. But the men didn’t care if the teenager knew\nor not, and after a while a competition developed between the men to see who\ncould make the mother scream the quickest, the loudest or at the most\nunexpected and inopportune moments.

\n\n

By far the worst part for the mother was the psychological trauma. She was not forced to dress up like a whore\nfor the men, but rather they put her in matching panty and bra sets combined\nwith high heels as they raped and sodomized her. But the sixteen year old was forced to wear the lingerie---the stockings and the garters and\nthe five-inch stiletto heels, the babydolls and the bustiers normally required\nof the women training; all done to please the men and further torment the\nmother.

\n\n

Overall, the team had made many promises to the two to keep them\ncooperative, but obviously they had no intention of carrying them out. Inevitably, the men had promised the pair\nthat they would be kept together when sold. \nSo on their day of reckoning--their last day on the boat--both now newly\npregnant females were allowed to dress together. And then both unwittingly and voluntarily\nsubmitted to being handcuffed with their hands behind their backs---this was\nnothing new and so aroused no suspicions. \nFinally, they were both gagged since no one wanted to hear their begging\nor screaming as they were dragged off the boat to separately meet their new owners.

\n\n

For in the end, the mother was sold to a pimp in the Turks and\nCaicos Islands, while the daughter was purchased by a wealthy older Russian\nexpat living in Montego Bay. The mother’s\nfetus was aborted and she was immediately hooked on heroin to better maintain\ncontrol.

\n\n

The teenager on the other hand, was allowed to carry to full term,\nfor the Russian enjoyed having children around. \nWell, at least until he had sold the infant. The men on the boat knew the mother and\ndaughter would never see each other again, and that both were going to their\nown separate versions of hell. But\nthey’d made a lot of money that day and deep in their hearts, none of the men\ngave a damn about the two former feminists.

\n\n

We must be willing to get rid of the life\nwe’ve planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has be shed before the new one\ncan come.

\n\n

-Joseph Campbell

\n\n

The movie being shown of me began with what were clearly amateur\nvideos of my friends and me. It went on\nand followed me training throughout my time on the boat. It was humiliating, purposefully meant to be\nso. It showed me at my worst on the boat,\nmy screams and tears, the rapes and sodomies, the tortures. Once this had finished, there was silence as\nthe men looked at me. Tears were running\ndown my cheeks. I couldn’t bear to look\nat any of them. After a moment, Jorge\nannounced there was another version, one a little more polished, one which was\nmore for Bossman’s benefit. A part of me\nstood aside and watched from a distance as the new video began.

\n\n

Two different shots showed me sunning myself; one taken on a\npublic beach apparently in Cancun, the other was a shot of me sunning on the\ndeck of this boat. The bikini I wore on\nthe beach looked positively Paleolithic compared to what I was shown wearing on\nthe boat.

\n\n

Despite what was shown in the first video, this one was so much\nmore difficult to sit through than the other. \nI looked at the video of my friends and me on Cancun and found I was\ntrying to swallow an unswallowable lump in my throat---I terribly missed my\nfriends and couldn’t look at them on the TV without my eyes misting. While my friends were in almost every scene,\nit was clear from the editing that I was to be the “main character” in the more\nformal movie on slavery.

\n\n

The movie scene quickly shifted to documenting my vacation night\nlife. There were enough short clips of me\nin different dresses and bikinis that I knew they’d been watching me almost the\nwhole time I’d been on the island. I’d\nassumed so much, and been so careless about myself and my safety---it was far,\nfar too late to do anything about that now. \nThe last shot was of me was when I was wearing my short black dress and\ncrisscrossing strappy heels, so it must have been taken on my last night at\nCancun as I was heading to T. O.’s. I\nfelt almost incredulous as I watched the picture of that young girl blithely\nwalking with her friends as if she had conquered the whole world. I had gone through so much since then that it\nseemed like it had occurred over a thousand years ago.

\n\n

Then the voice-over began, and it was Bossman speaking: “This is the seventh in a series that documents\nthe story of women whom have been supplied for non-consensual slavery to\nvarious brokers. The following is based\non standard CIA techniques and addresses the issue: How do you take an average,\nteenage North American female who comes from a good background, with a strong\nfamily support group, and turn her into a willing and submissive sex slave?”

\n\n

“On this tape, we show you a bright, healthy and beautiful young\ngirl I have named ‘M’. Nineteen\nyears old, she comes from the southern U. S.; protected more than is common for\none of her generation, she is generally quite naïve about life. She has a strong familial support group and\nis moderately religious. Sexually inexperienced\nand chaste, she is for all intents and purposes a virgin. So, how would you begin?”

\n\n

“We,” his voice continued, “compel untrained and non-submissive females\nlike ‘M’ (the scene on the TV goes to various shots of me still free in\nCancun, walking with friends to T. O.’s and then on the beach, wearing a bikini\nand laughing with my friends again) to\nact as we choose in matters of sex (the monitor now showed multiple shots\nof me, now clearly under coercion, putting on stockings, donning and wearing at\nleast three different sets of lingerie, zooming in to show me carefully\npositioning my breasts in multiple cupless brassieres. From these it flashed to a scene of me\nseemingly willingly fucking Jorge. The\nview is from the top of my bed and shows me on my back, raised knees welcoming\nJorge between my thighs and what appears to be obvious pleasure is reflected on\nmy face as I look over his shoulder at the ceiling. Next it shows two quick vignettes of me each\ntime dressed in different clothing and performing oral sex on both Jorge and\nEnrique).

\n\n

My breath catches in my throat. \nI’m in shock as I realized for the first time that the whole assault on my\nmind and body has been filmed. All of\nthe shots had been carefully picked to accompany the dialogue. One of the cameras must be at waist height on\nthe wall across from the bed. It showed\nthe whole room from the dressing table on the left, to the bed in the center of\nthe room to the cabin doorway on the right. \nI realized too there must be another camera directly over my bed. How much has it seen that even I don’t know\nand how many other cameras are there? \nClearly planned, none of the men are shown with recognizable faces, but God,\nmy face is easily recognized in every scene.

\n\n

“We’ve put ‘M’ in a stressed psychological state where her mind essentially\nworked FOR us and against what she absolutely knows are her best interests.” The scene on the screen\nchanges to that of me standing by my bed and readily donning the rubber suit offered\nby Roberto. It shows my difficulty in\nshoving my breasts through the too small holes in the chest of the suit and\nthen allowing my arms to be bound in the suit. \nIt shows my crotch and ass are left bare by the suit. The scene then flashes to me lying flat on my\nback; my face is clearly recognizable as it begins to be covered by liquid\nrubber, zooming in to catch my silent scream as the liquid covers my face. This particular shot is hard for me to\nwatch. The shot ends with my obvious\ndifficulty in breathing through the two small tubes inserted into my\nnostrils. Finally, a close-up is shown\nof a female’s breasts and genitals as Roberto covers them with different color candle\nwaxes; with the face covered, the audience must assume it is mine since there\nis no way to tell for sure. The chest of\nthe female covered in black rubber arches as the hot wax hits her skin and she\nwrithes in obvious pain as more hot wax is dripped on her genitals. Finally, the scene zooms out—it is me.

\n\n

The screen\nblacks out and when it returns, it shows me naked from above as I voluntarily\nallow Manuel to tie my hands to the side of the bed and after my legs are\nspread wide apart, my feet are tied to the wall by my head. This position directly bares my vagina and\nass to the camera as it zooms in. \nQuickly the scene then shifts to me still in this position as I am being\nwhipped in the genitals.

\n\n

“We’ve been able to do this by making her feel emotions like shame (the picture shows Manuel sliding across the bed on his back and\nI am desperately following him on my hands and knees trying to keep his cock in\nmy mouth. The screen flashes to a side\nview of my face as, apparently successful in my attempt to please him, my head\nis now bobbing up and down on him. I’m\nperforming oral sex on Manuel and the look on my face shows how much I hate\nwhat I am doing; my tears are falling onto his thighs and lower stomach. From there the scene jumps to me repeating\nwords and phrases said by Enrique and Manuel. \nHere the volume comes up a little and I hear myself repeating back to\nthe men whatever I’m told; it’s obvious from my face that I find all of this\ndistasteful. The scene now changes to me\nlooking into the camera and sobbing. I’ve\ngot melted red and black wax on my breasts and between my legs. The next scene shows me crying as I shower\nand remove the melted wax and marshmallow from my body. Finally, the picture on the television\nflashes to me lying over Jorge’s knee and being spanked. The shot is now from the other side of my bed\nand zooms in on my slowly and erotically grinding my pelvis in to his knee; my\nface shows that I appear to be enjoying this moment, but that I is also shamed\nthat I do); worthlessness (now I am\nlooking at myself from the ceiling as Manuel brutally throat fucks me. I am again humiliated at watching my head\nhang off of the bed, even as the ‘me’ on the bed never relinquishes my death\ngrip on my high heels as The Evil One mercilessly drives himself into my mouth\nand throat. The sound coming from my\nmouth on the TV is an awful, rhythmic Ga-Glick, Ga-Glick with each thrust of\nhis hips. The picture zooms in now from\nthe wall at the head of my bed and focuses on the mortification and pain in my\nface, my concentration on trying to breathe with a large penis being driven\ndown my throat, my tears running towards the floor and the saliva drooling out\nof my mouth; and then suddenly it flashes to me in bed with Enrique. The view is from above again and I am on my\nknees and bent over his waist giving him a blowjob, when he suddenly grabs my\nhair, pulls me off of him and slaps me. \nThe scene appears to represent a continuum in which I have been taught a\nsexual act that I’d then tried to apply incorrectly somewhere else and a dependency upon us (the scene now\nshifts to me being comforted on Jorge’s lap, and then on Enrique’s lap, and\nends with multiple shots of me talking earnestly with Bossman on deck).

\n\n

Oh God, I thought to myself as I watched the video, a camera behind\nthe dresser mirror and all of my conversations with him on deck were recorded too.

\n\n

The film continued….”We\nuse physically intimidating and coercive techniques on her (the picture now\nswitches back to a view from the top of the bed with an obviously female body\nencased in rubber and tied with her legs spread eagled on the bed, as Manuel\ndripped wax and melted marshmallow on her breasts and vagina and then cut off\nher air supply. I watched in horror as\nthe “she” in the film fought a losing battle for air), and by acting as an overpowering outside force (viewed from above,\nfor the first time I see myself being branded and my nipples pierced without\nanesthetic; I am gagged but even with my mouth full of the hard black rubber, I\nam giving out screams of pain that are obviously loud enough to carry for some\ndistance. Then the scene shifts so that\nI see a montage of every man on the boat slapping me. Finally, it flashes to my bound body being\ndragged by my hair to the bathroom shower stall by Bossman where I am tied into\na tight bow in which my back is painfully arched and then I am left for the\nnight. The picture goes to black and\nthen reverses to white and everyone sees me still lying in the same position in\nthe stall, but now it is morning; I’m covered in my own filth in which I laid\nall night. This fades to black and then\nto white again where we now see a ceiling shot of me laying at the foot of my\nbed with my knees spread and in the air; I’m gagged and my hands are tied\nbehind my back, while my feet are tied about three feet apart to a steel\nbar. There is some activity by two men\nat the foot of the bed, and then it becomes clear that a machine-powered penis\nbeing set up. It is started and begins\ndriving into my vagina. Within moments I\nsee in the movie my body is being driven towards the head of the bed by the\npiston entering my vagina and then as the piston retreats, the taut bindings at\nmy ankles pull my body back toward the foot of the bed just in time to again\nreceive the forward thrust of the mechanical penis), we break these women’s will to resist us (the scene shifts to me\nbeing lowered onto the wooden horse, my ankles hog-tied to the back of my\nthighs, my arms bound tightly behind my back and my head covered by the tight\nleather discipline helmet. The picture\nzooms in on my smoothly muscled thighs straining as I unsuccessfully attempt to\nsave myself by gripping the thin horizontal wood of the horse with the insides\nof my sweaty thighs. The views of the\nwooden horse change quickly as they show me from different camera angles, but\nall of them concentrate on the moment my vagina finally touches the horse and my\nreaction when my full body weight finally and fully pinches my clitoris between\nmy pelvis and the wood of the horse. The\naudience watches as my covered head is thrown back in obvious torment as I\nslowly rock back and forth on the thin edge of the polished wood between my\nlegs and upon which all of my weight now rests, proving to all watching that I\nam incapable of protecting my own femininity. \n

\n\n

Next, it flashes to show a picture within a picture, basically two\nmovies are up on the screen at the same time. \nOne is a shot from the ceiling camera which shows me gagged and with my\nhands tied in back and my wrists pulled up tightly and suspended from a rope to\nthe ceiling. The other is a perfectly\nsynchronized view of the same event taken from the side. Even though I am wearing high heels, this\nview emphasizes the heavy iron bar bound to the arches of my feet and how I’m bent\nover in agony. The scene now shifts to\nthe side and a little to the back as it shows Manuel step up to me as I’m bent\nover, spread my butt cheeks with both hands and with one smooth move of his\nhips, bury his long, black glistening erection up to his nutsack into me from the\nrear. Even bound and gagged, it is clear\nthat I am obviously suffering excruciating pain from this assault and attempt\nto rear up in protest, but that I’m also prevented from doing so by the way my\nbound arms are tied to the ceiling. There\nis laughter from other men and the soundtrack makes it appear that there was an\naudience viewing as I am being sodomized. \nFinally, the scene ends with me begging them to stop, telling them I\nwill do anything, everything they want if they will just stop hurting me. It is clear they have won and that I have\nsubmitted to them--they have won.

\n\n

Silent tears are running down my face at this point as I watch\nthis horrendous movie. I wish I could\nstop crying because I don’t want to give any of them that satisfaction, but I\njust can’t help myself. I am so caught\nup in my own misery that I keep missing details of what Bossman is saying as each horrendous scene is followed by one even\nworse.

\n\n

“By taking away M’s ability to rely on herself, by stripping her\nof her external rituals (the scene shifts to show my\ndaily exercise routine. The camera zooms\nin and pans my body showing the scant exercise outfit I wear. The camera angle purposefully emphasizes my\nbutt plug) and social supports and\nforcing her to look inwards for strength (the scene shifts to one taken\nfrom the head of my bed showing me watching my family on television), by letting her see things like her family\non TV, but knowing that they can’t help her, we force her to go back to an\nearlier, more vulnerable level of behavior (the television screen now shows\nme crying myself to sleep at night, then shifts to a scene of me rocking back\nand forth in the bathroom like a catatonic patient. My arms are folded across my chest after\nbeing forced to have oral sex with Manuel on the first day of training. It is obvious I am in acute psychological\ndistress). We can then take advantage of this emotionally weakened state and get\nthese women to voluntarily do whatever we want, (the scene now coming on is\ntaken from the ceiling and shows me allowing myself to be tied up by\nManuel. After being gagged, my wrists\nare tied to the sides of the bed while my body is bent almost in half and my\nfeet are tied to the bedposts at the head of the bed. This opens up my defenseless genitals to the\nview of the camera and it zooms in on them for a second. Even now, I shudder at how vulnerable and\nunprotected I felt at that moment. The\nscene then shifts first to me being fucked by Manuel; my eyes are closed and my\nface looks like that of a zombie---it’s obvious that I am just trying to get\nthrough this. The camera now seems to\nzoom in again on my crotch and suddenly one can see my anus opening and\nclosing. To my final and complete\nmortification, there is muffled laughter in the cabin of the boat as this is\nshown. Suddenly, the scene cuts to me\nstill tied in the same position, but now I am being whipped by Manuel in the\ngenitals again and again until I abruptly begins to urinate all over myself. The scene goes dark and when it again becomes\nlight again it first shows me naked and sitting against the wall, then it shows\nEnrique begin to tie me up. First it\nshows me putting my gag in my mouth without obvious coercion, and then it shows\nmy hands tied to the wall. From here it\nquickly shows my hips being tied down and then my feet tied up by the toes to\nthe wall near my hands. Even the men\nwinced and then groaned in sympathy at the awful position I have been put\nin. When the pliers and clamps are\nbrought out and applied, all of the men laugh and groan in mock sympathy at the\nsame time at my predicament.) even\nthough, as you can see, it clearly is against their own self-interest.”

\n\n

“Think of the ‘essential\nyou’,” Bossman’s voice continued, “as a monolithic structure. By carefully intermixing people with her that\nshe perceives as caring (I am shown sitting on Jorge’s lap being comforted,\nthen on Enrique’s lap, again being comforted. \nFinally, it cuts to me earnestly talking with Bossman up on deck), which are then forcefully counter balanced\nby those that are perceived as uncaring (short vignettes of both Roberto\nand Manuel as they hit me), by\ndiscrediting her learned beliefs and\ninherent personality traits (the television picture quickly shifts from one\nscene to the next, each one first showing me undressing or dressing in front of\nthe men, then of me naked in front of one of the men and then of me each time\nwearing a different set of lingerie. It\nis clear that I am being desensitized to being naked in front of men, to\nwearing lingerie for them and to performing demeaning tasks for them. Next, the scene shifts to me being forced to\nrepeat previously unthinkable language in various sexual contexts which would\nhave been unimaginable for me just three weeks ago. Finally, it flashes to Bossman and me talking\non deck. It is now abundantly clear\nthrough the video context that he’s subtly attacking my belief in family and\nthe loyalty I feel towards my parents),\nby fracturing that internal structure, we can affect everything from her\npersonality to her normal bodily needs and functions.”

\n\n

“We’re able to strip away the traits she’s learned from her\nparents (the monitor again shows me\nbeing made to repeat vulgar and sexually explicit words and phrases. As the scenes progress, it becomes obvious\nthat I am becoming more comfortable with these words and that it is becoming\neasier for me to use them. Finally, it\nshows me spontaneously using this language in a couple of different\nsituations. I blush at how I now know I\nmust sound to others. The TV screen next\nshows me being forced to stand naked in front of various men and how gradually\nit appears this too becomes easier or at least less damaging to me to do\nso. This scene closes with me shown as\nnow being very comfortable with the extensive modeling of very racy lingerie\nfor Jorge), take away her ability to\ndeal with complex social situations (the scene now snaps to one of me\nwearing exquisite bridal lingerie when I go to serve the men in the galley, but\nsuddenly it cuts to me cramping midway as I try to sit down at the dining table\ndue to the increased size of my new butt plug. \nMy discomfort and embarrassment at that time is obvious to all watching,\nbut now it only makes me angry. From\nhere it shows quick shots of me attempting to relate to the men. While in actuality these efforts had quickly\nended on my part, that is not the perception left by the film), remove\nher ability to cope with stressful personal relationships (the camera is\nnow from across the room and it shows my obvious fear of Roberto and his rubber\nsuit, but how, when left with no other choice, I do it anyway. Then it cuts away to show my inappropriately\nnon-submissive reaction after being let out of the rubber suit. I gaze raptly at the screen--my blazing green\neyes coming toward the camera—I am stopped and slapped by Bossman; these are\nstriking visual scenes. Finally, the\ncamera shows my first anal rape by Enrique. \nIt starts out with a view from the side as he sheathes himself in me,\nbut then goes to an aerial view which better shows my agonized facial\nexpressions as he begins to finally slam himself into my ass—my distress is\nobvious to the world in the view of my face, for mirrors pain, horror,\nhumiliation and rage as I am anally raped. \nEventually, I am shown voluntarily putting bedding in my mouth,\napparently willingly gagging myself to muffle my screams) and with repeated frustrations (the scene shows me talking\nearnestly to Jorge about wanting to be left alone to do just what I want to\ndo. This is juxtaposed with various\nshots of me being forced to give blowjobs to most of the men. This part ends with various cuts of me removing\nmy butt plug in the bathroom; the last scene is that of me unsuccessfully trying\nto remove the latest butt plug, by far the largest one, by myself. The way it is edited indicates that a lot of\ntime has passed as I try and fail to remove it on my own. My face shows that I am obviously both\nashamed and frustrated at having to ask another person for help with\nthis).

\n\n

I blushed with humiliation as I remembered how grateful I’d been\nto Jorge for letting me go into the bathroom to take out the hard rubber plugs\nin privacy. God, I felt so stupid. And it had been stupid of me to assume that\nI’d had any privacy on the boat.

\n\n

“Her rapid transition to the “modern sexuality” that we have\ndefined for her and which we demand from her (the\ntelevision shows a shot from the foot of the bed in which Jorge has my left leg\nraised and pointed to the ceiling. He’s\nremoved my sandal from that foot and he is kissing and licking the inside of my\nknee and thigh; it appears on the video that I like this as it shows me\nclenching my fists and then a shudder of pleasure appears to run through my\nbody. The picture then cuts to a side\nview of me fucking Jorge; as the subject of this video, it now appears that I\nobviously have accepted him willingly and am vigorously meeting each thrust of\nhis hips with a counter move of my own that ensures maximum penetration by\nhim. This scene reaches a climax as I am\napparently overcome by an orgasm---my hips and belly are arched up against\nJorge to the point that my buttocks no longer on the mattress. My hands are shown digging into his\nshoulders. Jorge’s hands are shown\nreaching down and each grabs a cheek of my butt to both ensure he maintains the\nmaximum penetration of my vagina and to balance himself on my upthrust groin;\nthe video shows me holding this position for an incredible length of time\nbefore I finally collapse under his weight. \nThe scene then goes to a ceiling view in which my nylon clad legs are\nwrapped around his lower body and my neck seems to be straining as I rise again\nand again to meet his thrusts into my belly. \nThe scene starts to repeat, but now is shown from the foot of the\nbed. Again I am shown with Jorge, except\nnow I’m wearing different lingerie. It\nis clear both times I had been with him after I’d capitulated; I was now enthusiastic\nin my ‘voluntary’ lovemaking with him. \nThe scene snaps to a ceiling view of Jorge and me lying in bed\ntogether. I’m lying on my back and he on\nhis side to my left but lying between my legs. \nMy right leg is draped over his hip and I am fondling his penis and\nballs in an apparent attempt to make him erect again. It’s clear that we have just finished having\nsex because the picture is clear enough to see his semen drying on the insides\nof my upper thighs, on my labia and on my lower belly. The scene shifts to me now riding Jorge’s\ngroin, willingly impaling myself with every move of my hips. Again, the video makes it obvious that I am\nis doing this willingly. I am facing the\ncamera, but my eyes are closed. I lick\nmy lips to wet them and continue riding him. \nFinally, in a scene shot from the head of the bed, I am again shown on my\nknees giving a blowjob to Manuel. This\ntime I am wearing a skirt and blouse combination) is then complete; we’ve changed her sexually, but her underlying\npsychology remains the same. On her\njourney from virtual virginity to trained sexual dependency, we expect moments\nof almost wondering disgust at herself (a scene shot from across the bed\nshows my face as I submit to performing oral sex with Manuel. My face shows how I loathe what I am being\nforced to do to him; as one continues to watch, it seems I have also reserved\nmuch of the disgust shown on my face for myself, for willingly performing like\nthis for him. This shot then goes to\nanother scene in which I am being forced to repeat Manuel’s demeaning comments\nto me) and at us (the scene on the\nTV is again taken from the ceiling and shows me being brutally throat fucked by\nManuel. It shows my bulging and tearing eyes. It shows him threatening me and then running\nhis hand over the bulge in my neck as his erection is completely buried in my\nmouth and throat---and it shows my body being driven across the bed with each\nslam of his hips to my face. Then it\nzooms in on my hands desperately clasping and unclasping from my high heels,\nall the while in the background all one hears is wet Ga-Glick, Ga-Glick,\nGa-Glick. The scene ends with me sitting\nand rocking in the bathroom, then vomiting into the toilet and finally\nscreaming and throwing my high heels out of the bathroom. From this, it next shows my pathetic rage at\nEnrique after the first day of training and his lesson in anal rape. I am shown stupidly threatening to “get even”\nor kill him for what he’s done to me);\nthese events are markers on her journey of transformation into becoming what we\nwant and are to be expected. In the end,\nthese women always turn to anger in search of an outlet. While the unreleased anger of these women has\nbeen known in some to turn some simply from being mad and continuing on into\nmadness, clearly ‘M’ has satisfactorily internalized our needs and demands (the\nTV shows me now wearing black lingerie, stockings and heels, lying on my back\non the side of the bed. With a small\nsmile on my face, I slowly raise her legs until my feet are pointing at the\ncamera eye in the ceiling and then I spread my legs slowly apart, as wide as I\ncan, obviously granting Bossman full permission to explore my vagina. After two or three minutes of him exploring my\nlegs with his hands and my vagina with his mouth and tongue, the scene finally\nshifts to me being “heroically” ridden by Bossman until all I can do is scream\nboth for mercy and for him to never stop. \nThe scene is reminiscent of the most graphic of pornographic movies and\nthe details captured in this scene seem to depict me as what I truly am; a\nnatural-born whore).

\n\n

What I do to these women robs them of their most basic ability to\nrelate to reality and, thus, is the psychological equivalence of their\ndeath. I shatter these women’s sense of\nself (the scene now shown is\nwhere Bossman renames me ‘M’ and gives me the slave collar I am to wear for the\nrest of my life? The corollary to this\nis that he is also forever taking away the name given her by her family). By\nisolating them and taking away their anchors (the movie scene now shifts to\none taken by a camera located behind the dresser mirror and shows me putting on\nseveral different sets of wedding lingerie, in an attempt to attack or take\naway the value of that custom. This\nscene is then juxtaposed with one is which I am talking to Bossman about my\nbelief that I would wear white and be married in a church, with my family in\nfull attendance. Finally, it shows me\nbeing quizzed by Bossman as he subtly attacks and demeans my value systems), by questioning and attacking their most\nprecious beliefs (several vignettes on deck with Bossman are shown in which\nhe discusses my lack of uniqueness, my inability to fit in with my generations’\nviews of sexuality and sexual freedom, about how poorly my parents training in\n‘life’ skills have served me, about my aunt’s selfishness, and about good and\nevil. He ends by subtly attacking the\noverall ‘me’ that has resulted of all of the above), they have nothing familiar left to hold on to: family, home, personal\nbelongings, loved ones, language, nor name. \nNothing’s left---they lose it all, along with their sense of freedom. Then they are mine. I now build them back up and bring them into\nMY reality, the one that I have defined AND designed for them.

\n\n

Here his dubbed\nin voice seems to smile broadly, ”Here’s\na translation for you---by putting her in positions where she thinks that acts\nlike sleep, nourishment and excretion are degrading, animalistic and\ndehumanizing (the scene starts with me on my hands and knees eating nasty\nlooking food out of a bowl and then goes on to show multiple shots of me\ndressing up in sexy clothes just to serve the men dinner, and of them mocking me\nand laughing at my problems with the new butt plug. It ends with me shown being dragged out of\nthe shower stall, covered in my own excrement. \nI have spent the whole night lying in it and am both humiliated and\ndegraded by having been forced to do this),\nwe can change the most basic parts of\nher personality. If I’m given enough\ntime, I can make any woman WANT to do anything I desire her to do.

\n\n

“So, that is how we took a normal, innocent young girl like ‘M’ (back to original scene of me being dressed up in Cancun and walking\nwith friends), and by using various motivations (the scene shifts to a side view\nshowing alligator clips being tightly clamped onto my nipples and the electric\nleads being attached to various parts of my body. Then both Jorge and Enrique are seen\ninserting the electrified dildo into my vagina and asshole. When these items are turned on, the\ntelevision picture documents my wild gyrations on the bed mattress as I involuntarily\nresponded to various parts of my body being electrically stimulated. The scene fades to black and then comes back\nshowing me being slammed viciously by the fuck machine again, and the shot\nzooms to my face which is contorted with screams muffled by the gag in my\nmouth---my eyes bulge, looking like they will pop out of my head with the awful\nsensations. Finally, the scene fades to\nblack again and when it comes back this time, the view is from the ceiling and\nit shows the men roughly inserting the first butt plug into my anus. Then it shifts and shows Enrique roughly inserting\nan even larger plug inside my ass. The\ncamera zooms in and documents in detail how my rectum hopelessly fights against\nthis last invasion. This scene ends with\nmy bound and helpless body being lowered onto the wooden horse. My body language here makes it abundantly\nclear that I am in agony) and taking her\nthrough various scenarios in which we make her do things that seem to have no\nreason to her (the scene now shows me wearing only a garter belt, butt\nplug, stockings and heels. The camera\nview is at about waist height and I walk up to the camera eye and turn my back\nto it. I then spread my legs and bend\nover to grasp one of my ankles, shooting a perfect beaver into the camera. My shaved vagina is emphasized from the back\nby my labia and the butt plug appears to wink at the camera.

\n\n

Even sitting there watching the film, I winced and wondered how it\nhad stayed inside me when I was bent over in that position as I faced away from\nthe mirror over the dresser. I had had\nno idea at the time why the men had demanded I do this each time I was wearing\nstockings for them, but now the reason was clear---more humiliation for me in\nthe end. Face burning, I watched as my\nhands finally come slowly back into view as they auto-erotically slide up my\nleg, and I then re-do my garters one at a time. \n

\n\n

On the monitor\nI bent down and did the same thing again with my other leg. Again my hand slides up my nylon clad leg,\nslowly, sexily, erotically. This sexually\ntitillating scene is repeated over after over after over, but each time with\ndifferent lingerie. (The overall\nimplications of this scene when taken into context with all that has been shown\npreviously are that I have been successfully broken and trained, and willingly\nperforming as a whore who has been sexually satisfying these men for a long,\nlong time), we end up with this (the final scenes in the movie begins with me\napparently willingly and enthusiastically fucking Bossman. It looks down at Bossman’s broad shoulders\nand back as he covers the teenaged girl beneath him. My hands are digging into his back, which is\nalready scratched by my nails. All the\nwhile my nylon clad legs are writhing around him in pleasure; the view lasts\nlong enough to show my legs sometimes coming up and wrapping around his waist\nwhile other times they are just intertwined with his on the bed. My face is shown looking at the camera over\nhis left shoulder; my eyes are closed but my mouth is open and I appear to be\nall alone in my world of exquisite sexual pleasure—I am even speaking to myself\noccasionally. It is hard to really see my\nface however, as Bossman is making bull-like thrusts into my willing body, each\none violently slamming me up and out of focus of the camera. The scene shifts suddenly and Bossman is\nreplaced by Jorge, still riding me much to my obvious pleasure. At this point, the scene again shifts to a\nfull frontal still shot of me as I stand naked except for my nipple chain and\nthe high heels which emphasize my calf muscles. \nMy hair is brushed and I have my makeup on. Both of my nipples are erect and my labia look\npouty and swollen, red and tender. My\nhead is slightly tilted and there is an inquisitive look on my face; even I\nhave to admit that I look stunning. This\nwonderfully erotic shot is held for the final commentary.) Finally,\nour system is rigorous and the results are robust. Seven of these films have now been made and\neach subject has eventually been made aware of the video in which they have\n‘starred’. For you see, that’s the\nbeauty of our training---it doesn’t matter what they know or don’t know about\nwhat we have done to them. When we are\nfinished with them, they are ours permanently. \nFor them, there is no going back and in the end, they know this.” (The\nfinal scene then does a slow fade to black.)

\n\n

As ordered, I still sit in the chair---I feel stunned and had never attempted to move from it.  God, it’s true.  My training on the boat is already taking precedence over the independence of my former life.  My eyes are on my feet, my arms are wrapped tightly across my chest and I can’t breathe.  I don’t know what to think, I’m not able to think.  They have made a documentary of the most awful, the most degrading, yet inarguably also the most pivotal moments of my life.  They have tortured and defiled me on the boat and the film is just a documentary continuation of their psychological brutality.  I have been thoroughly, professionally debased and my shame is now forever available for the whole world to see.  The other one, the other film, it was cheap and poorly done compared to this one.  The thoughts begin to spin faster and faster in my mind.

Enrique looked at the cunt they’d been fucking and grinned his evil grin.  “Notice that both videos have been ‘zeroed out’, no one can see our faces and the background gives nothing away as to what or where or even when this was filmed.  You stupid woman, we’ve also been working on another short surprise for you too.  Now, watch this…”

\n\n

The third video begins and immediately I knew it was explicitly meant\nfor my family---more specifically, for my father. It is short, not more than eight or ten minutes,\nbut it is devastating. It shows me\nfucking or being fucked by all five of the black men on the boat, performing\noral sex on them or having it carried out on me. The video partially shows the face of every\nman as he takes me. It clearly shows me,\nlying on my back and willingly spreading my legs for the men, and sitting on\ntop of the men fucking them on my own. It\nshows again and again the men’s huge erections as they disappear inside me both\nfrom the front and the rear.

\n\n

The camera zooms in on my face and shows my ecstasy as I am taken\nby Bossman and then by Jorge. The film culminates with my orgasms; my\nsexual release each time is immediately obvious to anyone viewing the film. It shows me being fucked in the rear by all\nof the men, and immediately afterwards the scene snaps to me taking Jorge’s moist\ngenitals in my hands after we’ve just finished having sex and apparently fondling\nhim in order to make him hard again. In\nall cases, the camera angle always shows me, but not the fact that there are men\ngiving me instructions as to my next act with them.

\n\n

Over the film my voice has been dubbed; what I am saying is\ncarefully edited to fit with exactly what is being shown on the screen. My voice goes on and on and on: “I like sex; I love being tied up and beaten;\nI like being hurt; I like being punished; I love to be fucked; I need a cock\nfilling my pussy; Oh God, somebody fuck me, please; I especially love being\ntied up and beaten and then fucked afterwards; I’m a slut and a cunt and a\nwhore and I want to do what I want to do; I’m a cocksucker; I love to suck\ncocks; I was born to suck cocks; I’ll even suck somebody else’s cock while you\nwatch; I’ll spread for anyone; I love to suck white cocks; I love to suck black\ncocks; There’s no cock that I wouldn’t like to suck on; I’m a whore for cocks,\nespecially niggar cocks; I like making love to black men; I want you to shove\nyour hard black cock deep in my nasty ass; I want black cocks rammed up my ass;\nI want them to rape my ass; I want you to please slide your greasy cock up my\nass, and fill my asshole with your cum; I love being fucked; please fuck me.”

\n\n

The film shows a quick series of shots showing me dressing for the\nmen in sexy lingerie or short skirt and sheer blouse combinations. It shows multiple shots of me bending over\nand tightening my stockings, in each shot I’m wearing different lingerie. Never is there any type of coercion shown\ntowards me, either explicit or implicit. \nThe worst shot for me is the one taken from the ceiling showing me with\nManuel as he brutally throat fucked me.

\n\n

My saliva-covered face is clearly visible in the video as he\ndrives himself into my gaping, waiting mouth. \nThe makeup running from my tearing eyes makes me look like the cheapest\nwhore. Not only my consent, but my\nactive and willing participation is implied as I lie there accepting him into my\nmouth and throat, saliva pooling in my mouth and running down the side of my\nface as all the while I voluntarily keep my hands down by my feet. Again, there is no obvious coercion here.

\n\n

It shows me apparently voluntarily allowing the men to put me in\ntortuous positions and to do awful things to my body. It makes it seem that I like pain and being hurt by them. \nAlways, the video does a wonderful job of making it seem as if this is\nsomething that I love to do, not something that I am forced to do.

\n\n

Finally it ends with a montage of shots showing each man cumming over\nand over again either in me or on me. \nThe look of ecstasy on their faces as they strain to get just a fraction\nof an inch deeper inside me before they cum; the way they would pull out and\ncum all over my face and body---everything is caught on film. The final scene shows me lying on my bed\ncovered with the semen of three men having cum on me multiple times. It steadies on the look on my face. It’s a look that could mean anything to\nanyone. As the video ends, my dubbed\nvoice repeats over and over, “I think I’m\npregnant, I think I’m pregnant, I think I’m pregnant………”

\n\n

I shook my head NO! as I listened in increasing horror to my voice\nsaying things I had never said. But\nwait! I actually did remember saying\nthat one particular phrase. And then another,\nand another. Finally the reality truly\ndawned upon me. From watching the first\nmovie, I’d known that they’d been copying the audio the whole time. But I had never thought about my being forced\nto parrot things back to The Animal\nand The Evil One. Manuel had obviously put my repetition to the\nvisuals they had been planning the whole time. \n

\n\n

Oh God. Oh my God!

\n\n

I recognized another comment as something that I had said, but on\nthe video it was all wrong. The way it\nwas presented gave it exactly the opposite meaning of what I had actually said.

\n\n

The film continued and I recognized more and more of my comments either\ntaken out of context or put in as dialogue that was just totally\nmisleading. Especially when viewed with\nwhat I was shown doing on the screen. As\nthe drama continued to play out on the small screen, I remembered more and more\nof what I had said. But on the TV, in\nthe way it was shown, it was all so misleading. It was\nall so wrong!! They had created a\ncomplete fabrication about me, about what I was like, but it looked and sounded\nso real. If I didn’t know better, I’d have\nbelieved it myself.

\n\n

Finally, mercifully, the video ended. Tears now ran freely down my face as I sat there\nstunned, feeling as if I had been hit between the eyes with a hammer. Oh God, I was lost! All was lost! \nMy family would never believe me now, not after they’d seen this video\nof me with all of these men.

\n\n

Manuel looked at the once-arrogant cunt and laughed. “Just think, bitch. If you ever decide to play games with us, ever, all we gotta do is send a few\ncopies of this to, oh, let me see; your parents, your aunt, all of your friends\nin your home town and at college, the local newspaper, your church---did I\nleave anyone out? You gonna’ tell them\nyou were kidnapped and raped? You gonna’\nask them, ‘who are you going to\nbelieve? Me? Or your lying eyes?’ You’re fucked, bitch. So behave like the nice little piece of ass\nyou know you are. OK?”

\n\n

I realized that it was true, something I thought I had noticed a\nlittle while ago--I was increasingly less able to think clearly about what was\nbeing done to me on the boat. Although my\nmind seemed more and more ‘fuzzy’ to me all of the time, almost like it was\npacked in cotton, I’d convinced myself for a while that I still had been wrestling\nwith my capture by these men and my responses to their threats and their\ntraining.

\n\n

I was now, finally, aware that one of the greatest questions a\nperson can face in life is how to determine to what extent they are going to\naccept their environment and to what extent they are going to fight it. While I had fought them in numerous small\nways, I’d also unthinkingly put off the final resolution of how I would react\nto my impending slavery because I had thought I’d always still have more time----time\nto fool the men, and time to still come up with a plan to get off the boat and still save my family at the same time.

\n\n

But once more, I’d underestimated the lengths they go to, what\nthey would do to keep me theirs and overestimated what I could do against their\nattacks. The problem now, I realized at\nlast, was that events had finally passed me by; that by creating this last\nfilm, my struggle against them had been resolved in their favor without the battle I’d envisaged even\ntaking place.

\n\n

Suddenly, the anger within me was absent, the venom and the fire\nwas now gone. There was no more emotion\nleft in me, no more hatred left towards any of them.

\n\n

Without a word, I got up and walked over to The Bed in a\ndaze. I was wearing a short brown wrap-around\nskirt with a narrow leather belt and a white silk blouse with a plunging\nneckline. I had on cinnamon near skin-tone\nstockings which were held up by sheer white lace garters and I was wearing\nblack, strappy sandals with six-inch stiletto heels. I wore no jewelry except for my nipple chain\nwhich was visible swinging between the natural cleavage exposed by the daring\nblouse.

\n\n

Upon reaching The Bed, I laid down upon it on my back without\nlooking at any of the men. It was\nobvious I was voluntarily waiting for them, one by one, to begin their normal\nassaults on my body, and for them to leave their disgusting, yet unavoidable\ngifts between my thighs. There were no\ntears left in me. I laid quietly,\nwithout moving, on The Bed, looking only at the ceiling which had so betrayed me\nin the end. My eyes remained dry and my\nmind seemed to have shut down—I knew now I would be here, in this position,\nforever.

\n\n

The others finally left and it was The Evil One that started getting ready for me—truly, nothing had\nchanged in my life. “I see you’re\nbehaving like a good little girl now,” he said. \n“Today, it’s time for a nice, slow ride.”

\n\n

He was on The Bed now. This\nwas normally a difficult moment, for at this point my entire body would be\ntensed, wanting, aching to resist him, but I would somehow always hold myself\nmotionless. But this time, there was\nnothing left inside me, I was blank. There\nwas no reason to force my body to remain still this time. I was empty, numb, a vacuum that nothing\ncould fill. There was nothing more he\ncould do to me that would hurt me more, affect me more, than what he had been\nparty to, and had just done to me with the movie.

\n\n

I just lay there for him, without looking at him. Up came my skirt as his rough calloused palms\ntouched my thighs, but I never flinched nor did I even look at him. And then I felt it bunch over my belly. Quickly, without speaking and without looking\nat him, I raised my knees and spread my thighs to make his penetration easier,\nquicker, less requiring of force. I\nwanted no games at this moment. I wanted\nto get the inevitable over with fast. \nBut I could sense he had mistaken my gesture of total withdrawal as more\nof a willingness on my part to participate. \n

\n\n

He was between my thighs now as he laid down upon me. “You’re a fast learner, baby. I knew you would be. Now that you know what side your bread’s\nbuttered on, you’ll be lots happier.” He\nrubbed his rough hands around the insides of my thighs that were not covered by\nnylon and under the cheeks of my buttocks. \n“Okay, now just lay back, baby, and enjoy it.”

\n\n

I winced as he pushed himself inside my dry vagina, but tried to\nremain stoical.

\n\n

By now, the way he had mounted me had revived memories of all of the\nother one-way copulations with him and the others--the recollections made me\nshiver with barely felt disgust and I tried to erase from my mind what now\nfollowed. The ride by him was a pleasureless,\nendless one, and as before, he pounded me like a jackhammer made of insensate\nflesh.

\n\n

Twice he had seemed on the verge of cumming, but to my disgust, had\nslowed down to contain himself before continuing. Each time, I’d been slightly tempted to start\nrocking my hips and my belly in pretend response, to stimulate him into coming\nfaster and thus to get rid of him. Yet I\nhad simply been unable to bring myself to make any movements which would have\nbeen misinterpreted by the monster as his having success in exciting me.

\n\n

An eternity it had lasted and finally, when we were both slippery\nwith his sweat, he exploded inside me and the ordeal was quickly over\nthen. Like the unthinking monster he\nwas, the man was pleased with his effort. \nIn fact, while leaving The Bed, he wanted to know how I had liked it.

\n\n

I shrugged a non-response and looked away, my eyes still dry, my\nmind still empty of any thoughts.

\n\n

He reached down and grabbed his underwear, shirt and pants. Everything went on the bed except for his\nunderwear which he began to put on. His\nblack penis hung down, soft now. It\nglistened in the light, wet with fluids from inside my vagina.

\n\n

“I know, I know, you just can’t bring yourself to admit that you\nloved it.” He looked at the clock on the\nwall as he buckled his belt.

\n\n

“Yeah, well, thirty-one minutes of it…..okayl, let’s call that one\na quickie.” And with that, he left.

\n\n

The men of the boat crew were correct, nothing had changed, and\nthey all visited me as usual. The day\ndragged on, seemingly lasting forever, but finally I was alone. I cleaned myself quickly, yet thoroughly, and\nwithout eating crawled into The Bed and lay facing the wall. I have never felt more alone that I did at\nthe moment, like a young child taken away from her parents, from everything\nthat gave her life meaning. I lay there\nin the dark, thinking about what had happened today and what I knew that it meant\nfor me. Finally, my eyes began to flood\nuncontrollably and I sobbed, for what I had and for what I had lost.

\n\n

I cried myself to sleep over those missing parts of my life….of\nme….that had been taken and destroyed by these men.

\n\n

Still later that night, Jorge watched both videos again and\nagain. Enrique and Manuel had been the\nones to edit the films, while Wolf had dubbed the second one. He then went back and looked at some of the\noriginal footage to confirm his suspicions. \nHe would be ready for her tomorrow morning.

\n\n

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