“Noooo! Pleeeaasseee! Not again! PLEASE!” Natalie Hunter screamed as Lord Vicious swung open the door of her cell. “Don’t whip me again! Please! I can’t take it anymore!”
Every four hours Natalie was dragged out of her cell, strung up naked and shivering in Lord Vicious’s dungeon, and then brutally whipped for anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour. She’d been here for three days, but to her it felt like three years, waiting in the dark for her punishment…
Natalie Hunter was an independent journalist, an investigator, and she was going to take Humphrey Victarion down. She’d been looking into evidence of corruption, backroom deals, or human rights violations at any of the factories he owned. She had no idea how deep Victarion’s depravity went: she didn’t discover his alter ego, Lord Vicious, until she was trembling naked in his dungeon.
“So you wanted to find my secrets, Ms. Hunter? Well now you have! What do you think, will this make the front page!?” Lord Vicious laughed, lashing Natalie’s naked and welted back.
“MMNGGGHHH!” She screamed through the gag. “LLFFFF MEHHHGGG SAAAHKKKK URRRRGHHH OCKKK!”
“Hahah, you want to suck my cock!? Is that what you’re asking!?” Lord Vicious asked, wrapping the whip around her chest so that the tip bit into her tender breasts. More >>>
“Please fuck me master! My cunt is burning for your cock! Give this worthless whore the pleasure of your glorious cock!” Gretchen sobbed as soon as Lord Vicious entered her cell. Weeks of intense training had made her humiliating speech almost instinctive, but she still couldn’t keep from crying. Her puffy labia were still red and swollen from the fucking he gave her earlier that morning, and were covered with bruises from where is riding crop had punished her tender sex lips.
“I hope you’ve had time to reflect on the mistakes you made this morning!” Lord Vicious said, gently sliding his fingers through her slippery folds. “I’d hate to have to add more cane welts to that beautiful ass of yours!”
“I have master! I promise! Please, fuck me now!” Gretchen begged. This morning she’d made several mistakes: she hadn’t cum together with Lord Vicious, she didn’t thank him for fucking her, and she had forgotten to scoop his cum out of her hole and eat it in front of him. She’d been trained to do all these things, but Lord Vicious’s fuckings were so intense. He’d settle into a hard, pounding rhythm that would drive his cock against her cervix over and over again, sending spasms through her entire body. He had surprising stamina for an overweight old man.
It hurts so much! This is the worst, worse than the strap on my butt! He is a sadistic animal and my poor breasts are so sensitive.
“You fat titted cow! How do you like the feel of a little leather on your funbags, huh? Feel good, whore? Some men will allow you to stick those big titties in their faces without… consequences. I think a cock teasing bitch who is as proud of her jugs as you are needs to be taught a lesson. I like teaching this lesson.
No, please, no! Stop hitting me! So sick, so…
“Aaaiigh! Ooaahh, owwgh!”
“Damn, your rack looks even more attractive with red lines whipped all over it. Makes my dick kind of thrum to look at your welted boobs bouncing all around when my whip strikes them. I ought to thank you for catching my attention by showing off those beauties in the gym, slut. Without that, your tits would not suffering in my cellar right now.”
With her ass on fire, Madison lay in bondage, twisted like a pretzel, staring up into her friend Olivia’s crotch. She could never have imagined when she was putting up posters to help find Olivi, that hours later she would be tied up and whipped so that some sick man could force her into lesbian sex.
How can this fucking be happening? It can’t be!
Then the whip sliced through the air of the cellar that had become a torture chamber for naked women. It snapped across the girl’s firm, round bottom as she squirmed in her leather cuffs.
No! No! No!
“Bitches, my arms are getting tired… not!
“When I was in prison for rape, I spent hours every day lifting weights. I was fantasizing about and preparing for the day I would get out of prison to whip and rape stuck up cunts like you, only harder than I had ever done before. With my strength, I could cut the flesh of your butt into shreds… but I won’t. Ask blondie… there’s other things I like to do with a pretty girl’s ass!
She was making sounds he could discern now; combinations of moans, grunts, cries, and sobs. She tried to scream, cry out questions, or make any words that would help her understand what was happening.
That was okay with him. Her confusion only added to his excitement. It had been her torso as well as her smile that did it … not just her tits, but the way her sides were so sleek, so long, and so smooth. He held those wonderful sides now, watching those tits bounce as he surged inside of her for the second time in less than a half-hour.
Her beautiful back arched, her beautiful neck stretched, her beautiful head went back, she made a sound like a drowning kitten, and then she was refilled. Before she could completely comprehend it, he threw her down onto the van floor on her back. She quaked, gasped, and started to cry.
Grabbing a breast while jamming her head back onto his shoulder, he rammed into her with brutal fervor as the cop car came toward the van. Groaning with malice and stimulation, he raped her all the more relentlessly as her beautiful little body writhed against him in the small space.
The cop car came alongside. He achingly came into Claire Holden again. The cop car passed by, obliviously.
Claire wailed and cringed; sounding, looking, and even feeling like a frightened, trapped fawn. He sneered malevolently, holding her down on him while pumping up his hips once, twice, three times more. Finally, he sat back, wheezing. “Yeah, darling, that’s the way I like it…!”
Claire tried to get her balance, but sagged against him, dizzy. “Aw, poor baby,” he cooed. “All tuckered out, are we?” Tenderly fondling her strapped-in head and bulbous breast, he slowly moved her off his stiff, fetid, spike. It emerged from her moist, tender cunt like a snake.
There were three slaves’ revolts. The most famous was led by Spartacus in the 70’s BC. The slaves’ army proved difficult to defeat. Many male slaves were physically strong, and their army was well-organized. They fought Rome for over a year, but were finally defeated. 6,000 slaves were crucified along the Appian Way that led to Rome…
Not all the captured slaves were crucified to death. Some of the women, especially the pretty ones, were displayed on scaffolding to which they were tied, not nailed. They were stripped naked so that they could be flogged and abused more easily.
As the macabre line of crosses approached Rome, more and more Roman citizens came to watch the spectacle, and the soldiers soon saw the opportunity to make money out of their naked booty.
Aemelia and Juliana stood fascinated, unconsciously licking their lips at the sight of the three slaves.
“They’re lovely,” said Aemelia.
The officer nodded. “My men will confirm that! They’ve been fucking the asses off these bitches for two weeks now!”
“NOOOOO, MASTER, NOOOOOOOOOO!!! PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!! YOU’RE HURTING ME! AAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
“UGH! Take that, bitch, right up your slave’s cunt! And that! UGH! And that! UGH! Does it hurt if I squeeze your tits? Does it, bitch?”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHH!!! YES, MASTER, IT HURTS!”
Sabinus Regulus had fought in the final battle against Spartacus, in which the Roman army had defeated his army of 60,000 men. One tenth of the prisoners were selected to be crucified along the 10-mile road that led from Capua to Rome. The soldiers had been allowed to choose female prisoners and tie them to the scaffolds too, for whatever use they wished…
Sabinus had selected a blonde with lovely firm breasts and a high, prominent vulva that got to him immediately he saw it. He ordered her to stand with her legs apart and he inserted the edge of his sword between her cunt lips, carefully separating the lips to reveal her clitoris… He liked the way she trembled when he did it, and he had always liked blonde cunts, so he chose her.
He soon discovered something else he liked about her. She was very shy. When he asked her why she was slow to show him her cunt, she explained that she had never been a slave. She was from a small tribe that had joined Spartacus after one of his victories against the Romans. The tribe had always hated Rome for its taxes and bullying and the way it took away the women…
Sabinus discussed this with his companions and they advised him to start training the girl straight away. He took their advice. He dragged her to the end of the line of crucifixions, which was now nearing Rome, and he tied her to one of the scaffolds for displaying female prisoners.
Juliette was completely crazy for Ben, short for Benito, a wealthy Italian businessman she’d met online. He was rich, good looking and incredibly sexy. After a night of dancing, dinner and drinks Juliette was looking forward to a night of passionate fucking. Her pussy was already sopping wet and she was aching to feel him inside her. Benito, though, was a man of peculiar tastes. There was nothing that killed his hard-on faster than a willing woman. He needed them to struggle, to beg, to be bone dry as he forced his cock into their unwilling cunts.
Ben pulled his car into the garage and waited for the garage door to slide back down before making his move. He reached over as if to stroke her hair and guide her in for a passionate kiss, and she so willingly gave herself to his hands, but as soon as his fingers were in her long black locks he grabbed a clump of hair and pulled viciously. Before Juliette could even think to scream, Benito slammed her head into the dashboard and with his free hand jammed a Tazer into her neck, sending electricity surging through her body.
Juliette’s entire body began trembling as she felt the cool leather whip brush across her exposed, vulnerable ass. She pulled at the leather cuffs around her wrists, desperately trying to free herself from the iron chains that kept her bound the mat.
“Please, please baby, don’t do this! You don’t have to do this!” Juliette begged. She didn’t understand how this could be happening, or why. She’d been more than willing to spread her legs for Benito, in fact she’d been looking forward to it. So why was he doing this?
“You’re right, I don’t have to do it. I want to.” Benito said, bringing the whip cracking down across her ass.
To Juliette it felt like she’d just been slashed by a knife, a thin line of burning pain had erupted along the top of her butt. She bit her lip and her fingernails dug into the palm of her hand as she struggled to deal with the most intense pain she’d ever felt.
“NOOOOO! IIEEEARRRGHHH! STOOOPPPP!”
But Benito didn’t stop. He kept adding welt after welt to Juliette’s butt, his cock throbbing as he watched her pert ass jerk turn into an angry red.
Coach Randy was enjoying the sight of Nancy’s pretty face sticking out between her knees, with her big red teary eyes begging him for mercy. Nancy was gorgeous as she was, but the client wanted an anorexic looking slave, so that’s what he was going to deliver. The skeletal look never did anything for him though, so he figured he might as well enjoy her while she stilled looked human. Her sweating, quivering skin and those trembling pussy lips were driving him wild. Then there were the livid red cane welts that made framed her perfect fuckholes. He couldn’t stand it anymore.
“God damn, it’s a shame your buyer wants to shrink that glorious ass! You won’t look nearly as sexy when I can see your tailbone.” Randy said, pulling out his enormous cock.
“Get ready bitch, this is probably gonna hurt.” Randy said, bellying up to the girl. His abs pushed the vibrating dildo deeper into her ass, causing Nancy to begin shrieking and thrashing around in agony. The walls of her pussy were clamping down on his thick, thrusting cock in a vain attempt to keep it from punishing her cervix again.
Nadia was an Olympic hopeful for the 100 meter dash when she caught the eye of a very rich sponsor. She was cut from the Olympic team and disappeared shortly afterwards, never to be seen again. At least not by anyone who wasn’t fucking her raw.
Thanks to her amazing athletic body the Coachers didn’t have to do much more than kidnap her and send her to the buyer, except of course to turn her A-cup tits into C-cup tits. A modification requested by the buyer and now being enjoyed by same.
“Yeah, I’d love to see you sprinting with these sweater puppies!” Larry laughed, pulling up her shirt and exposing the newly expanded tits. Nadia began bawling, and not just from the pain of having her nipples twisted and pulled by Larry’s callous fingers. She was crying at the freakishly big tits that were hanging so heavy on her chest, she’d never be able to run again without her ridiculous tits bouncing on her chest. These monsters had violated her in ways she’d never imagined, and were about to violate her in so many other ways…
“Over here, close to your hot girlfriend. Let’s go, whore, on your knees where you belong! That’s right, spread those knees apart. Give red a nice view of your clam while you get a look at hers.
“I’ve got to admit, with all those workouts at the gym, you have turned your bodies into fine-looking pieces of fuck flesh – you have given yourselves flat bellies, firm thighs, and round asses to go along with cute faces and fat jugs.
“You’re gonna get the chance now to do what you were made for: straightening out men’s dicks and draining men’s balls! I’ve got a buyer for a very special video you cunts are going to help me make. With these cameras, I’m going to record the steamy lez session you girls are about to perform.
“Blondie chose you to be her lover, red. I bet that makes you feel special.”
What is this crazy old fuck talking about! I’m not a lesbian! Does Olivia think I am a dyke? I only kiss other girls to tease guys – I would never actually do another girl!
I’ve got to get out of here!
Olivia watched in horror as the leather snaked backward along the floor away from her. She tried to cringe, but discovered that the way her arms had been tied behind her caused her breasts to thrust outward and there was no ducking or covering them. The heavy pink globes of the helpless girl’s flesh jutted out to meet the first savage stroke of the whip.
The blonde screamed into her gag as the crack of the whip sent pain ripping through the meat of both breasts. She stiffened in shock at the force of the blow.
With clear lust in his face and a rigid cock, the man stared at Olivia’s tits as his arm moved backwards again. Then the tip of the leather was whistling forward to snap on the bound girl’s naked skin. Now Olivia bucked, rocking back off her knees before her restraints settled her right back into her place.
Stop! No, stop!
He’s whipping Olivia! No!
Okay, okay, okay, he thought as he taped her eyes shut with two squares of the industrial sealant, he had to go now or he never would.
Leaving her was the hardest thing he ever did, but he managed it. He walked calmly through the building, the box he had left there now in his arms. He walked through the break room. He walked through the empty office hallways. He walked through the empty lobby. He walked into the studio where they were holding the try-outs. It was filled with the organizers and a line of auditioners. He noticed Claire’s mother still talking to the local cop in the corner.
He walked right up to the men and women sitting at the head table and put the box down in front of them.
“Hey guys,” he said. “Here’s your lunch order.”
“Ah,” said the boss man. “Punctual as always, Al. Thanks.”
The three started to pick out their favorite sandwiches as the deliveryman kept looking at the cop. “Hey,” he said mildly. “What’s Ted doing here?”
The boss man was already eating. “Missing girl,” he said between bites. “Or so her mom says.”
“What?” said the deliveryman. “Missing from here?”
“Supposedly one of the hopeful models-slash-actresses,” said another.
“Got her application, got her resume, got her picture, but never saw her,” said the third.
They were interrupted by the local cop, who approached the group, leaving the distraught mother behind.
She stirred, but he ignored it, choosing instead to concentrate on forcing his erect cock deep inside her incredibly tight, incredibly sweet cunt.
He grabbed her shoulders and rammed inside her as if he were sledge-hammering a spike. She reacted as if electrocuted. He couldn’t tell if she were awake or not, and didn’t care. The sensation of her snatch was blinding. Within moments he was ramming and desperately trying not to scream with delirium. Instead he slammed his mouth onto her right tit, suckling like a madman.
She was definitely awake by now, as if that made any difference. She surged, arched, and tried to kick and scream, but it was all useless.
The Governor reclined on his couch and contemplated his new Hibernian slave. Her original name was Fedlimid, but no one remembered that. The Governor had renamed her Cula, from the Latin culus or ass. It was the girl’s buttocks that had impressed him when he first saw her in the slave market…
It was only the slave’s second week in his household. She came untrained, as he had ordered. The training sessions were interesting, the Governor always thought. Why would anyone want to miss them and give the trainer all the fun?
Training in the second week included a severe flogging session every lunch-time.
The girl was stripped and tied to a flogging cart, which was wheeled into the atrium or central patio before lunch.
The session began with a painful whipping of her back, especially the buttocks. This was always performed by the Governor’s chief slave.
The whole household was expected to gather to watch the flogging, during which the girl screamed and begged for mercy.
In the second part of the session the Governor’s aged counselor conducted a brief conversation with the girl. His intention was to turn the slave’s private life into a public life.
On this occasion the subject was masturbation.
Decimus Dresus contemplated the slave’s shapely buttocks and was intrigued. He liked the deep dark crack in them too…
“Show me your ass,” he ordered. “Hold your cheeks apart and show me where a woman’s turds come from.”
Anna the Briton obeyed, showing him her wrinkly anus, still virgin…
“Turn round. Stick your tits out.”
The girl obeyed, arching her back…
“Pull your sex lips apart!”
Anna glanced nervously at the slave dealer, who nodded. She pulled her lips apart and showed him the soft gentle pink of her lips… He licked his own lips unconsciously…
Anna hoped he would buy her. She had not asked to be a slave, but she was a slave, and there were probably worse Masters than this one. At least he was young. And he did not look like a brothel owner, which was what she dreaded most.
Decimus Dresus had inherited his money from his father, a merchant who dealt in garum, a salty sauce made from the entrails of fish. Patricians used it to spice up their meals, partly because they considered it an aphrodisiac. Decimus thought this was nonsense. What made the meals aphrodisiac, he thought, was the way they were served by naked-breasted slave girls who later in the meal offered you figs and dates from their naked cunt lips and who were stripped completely naked and flogged and fucked after the meal… But the garum made a lot of money for his father, and the money gave him all the tits and cunts and asses he could dream of, which was a lot of tits and cunts and asses, so he had nothing against it…
Decimus realized that he had an aching hard-on that was bothering him and he took it out and began fondling it…
The people of Russia knew him by many names. The Mad Monk, some called him. A Holy Fool, others called him. But the young women of St. Petersburg knew him by another name: “Master.” That was the name they spoke late at night, when they were face down on a dirty mattress, or pressed up against a wall somewhere in the shadows of the street.
Rasputin had his fill of women, though no one was quite sure how.
To look upon him was to be repulsed. This man was not attractive. He had a dark face, his eyes shadowed and cruel. His hair was limp and greasy, a testament to his infrequent bathing. His rotting teeth and rancid breath did not inspire passion, and his body reeked like a goat. There was no earthly reason why this man should draw women to him like honey draws flies. Yet he did. He fucked with wild abandon, and no one ever seemed to refuse his advances.
There were whispers among the people that Rasputin possessed supernatural powers. That he could control minds and bend the will of the women he took to bed. Perhaps these powers were a gift from God. Perhaps they were a gift from the Devil. No one knew for sure.
Katya had felt his powers first-hand. A maid in the Tsar’s household, she had been cleaning late one night when she felt a presence behind her. She turned and…nothing. Everything went fuzzy. When she became aware again, she was standing in a hall gagged and bound, naked but for her panties.
Rasputin’s whores were numerous. Often they were young; pretty things that laboured as maids or cooks in the Tsar’s household. Sometimes they were older, and of a higher class. A few were actual whores, procured in the streets and alleyways of St. Petersburg. The women varied, though most had one thing in common. All had begged him to take them.
All those who knew Rasputin were confused by his ability to fuck such a collection of women. He was not an attractive man. They supposed the appeal came from his political connections to the royal family or his skills between the sheets. After all, the women all left his bed singing praise of his skills and his holiness. But there was something that was just so hard to believe about that. His eyes were so cruel, his hair so greasy, his manner so hard. Why would women want a man like him?
What no one knew was that the women were not willing at all. Rasputin was like a vampire, stalking his prey and taking them whenever it suited him. He enjoyed the unwillingness; their little cries made his dick so much harder.
He had grabbed this woman during a ball that was being held for the Tsar’s nephew. She was easy prey, standing by herself near the window. It was a simple matter for him to creep up outside the window and take her.
She had put up a valiant struggle; her dress had ripped in the fight, exposing her breasts. But Rasputin had won in the end. He always did. This woman had bit him before he managed to get the gag in. Oh, she would pay for that.
Her breasts were soft… luscious… inviting. He would get great joy from biting them. He sank his teeth into her warm skin; he felt her tense underneath him as the pain made her stiffen. Her cries of pain and her muted pleas to stop took him right to the edge of cumming. He held off, though. He had plans for this little bitch.
“Have you ever had your ass fucked, woman?” he asked.
She shrieked and started thrashing around.