BDSM Library - Julie\'s story

Julie\'s story

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: Anyone who may remember the \"Perils of Pauline\" will recognize that Julie made her experiences look like a walk in the park
ONE

ONE

 

“I have to get to Tonga today!  Can’t you help me?”

 

My name is Julie Hudson.  I am a freelance photographer and I’ve been hired to do a photo shoot on the small island of Tonga.  If I don’t get there today, the job will go to someone else.  To say that I am desperate is an understatement.

 

The person I am talking to is Jim Carmichael, the pilot of the local air service here in Brisbane.  He is a tall, handsome man, about thirty, with sparkling gray eyes and a mouth that is in a perpetual smile.  If I had more time, I would have liked to get to know him more intimately but I don’t.  I repeat my question.

 

“Please, Jim, I really need to get there!”

 

“I don’t know, Julie.  There’s a pretty bad storm brewing just South of here.  Can’t you wait until it passes?”

 

“No, I must be there by this evening!  I’ll pay you double if you’ll take me now!”

 

‘OK, but it’s against my better judgement.  Get your gear and let’s board.”

 

The twin engine Cessna took off easily and in moments we were over blue water.  I gazed down at the expanse of nothing as Jim gained altitude and then I settled back and closed my eyes, hoping to take a little nap.

 

I was awakened by the violent shaking of the aircraft and found Jim fighting to maintain control of the plane.  All around us were dark clouds and rain was pelting the windshield.

 

“What is this?” I asked.

 

“That storm I warned you about.  I’m trying to find an altitude we can get to without using oxygen.  Didn’t think to add any canisters so we’re stuck to something under 10,000 feet.  Even that’s risky!”

 

My stomach was doing a real number now as the plane dropped what seem a thousand feet and suddenly rose up again.  I clasped my arms across my chest and hugged myself to keep from shaking.

 

The engine on the right side suddenly sputtered and coughed.  Jim looked over with troubled eyes while trying to restart the idle motor.

 

‘Uh Oh!  We got real problems!”

 

The plane began to descend at a rapid rate and I strained to see something outside but everything was getting darker and darker.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“Not sure,” he replied, “but somewhere between Brisbane and Tonga.  This wind has blown us way off course and my radio doesn’t pick up any signals.  Got to find something we can land on before too long, though.”

 

As we descended, I could see the sweat break out on Jim’s forehead as he fought the controls.  The storm increased in ferocity and the plane was buffeted about like a dandelion in the wind.  I began to shiver and I wished I had worn more than a T-shirt and khaki shorts.  Suddenly the clouds parted a bit and I could see a small island beneath us.

 

“Jim!  There’s land!  We’re over an island!”

 

“Yeah, I see it.  Now if I can just ease her down on that beach!”

 

The waves were crashing on to the shore and I wondered how Jim was ever going to land in this horrific wind.  We were still bouncing around like a yo-yo and we couldn’t have been over 100 feet above the water.

 

“Hang on!” Jim shouted, seconds before the plane struck the water.  I flew forward and banged my head on the instrument panel, causing me to black out.  I was dimly aware of being in the water and being pulled from the plane.  After that, I couldn’t remember anything.

 

I came to, laying face down on the beach with waves gently breaking over my legs.  I felt a warmth on my back and slowly realized that it had quit raining.  I raised myself up on my elbows and looked around.  As far as I could see in either direction, the beach ran with a jungle beginning some fifty yards back from the water.  Jim was nowhere to be seen.

 

I sat up and surveyed myself to see what, if anything, was out of place.  Aside from a torn T-shirt, I appeared to be uninjured.  Shakily, I stood up and brushed the sand from my face.

 

‘Hey!”

 

I was startled at the sound of the voice and turned to see Jim emerging from the jungle.  He was carrying a bag in one hand and a big knife in the other.

 

“Good to see you’re up and about.  Feel OK?”

 

“Yea, I think so.  What have you got?”

 

“I was able to grab a few supplies from the plane before it sank.  I missed the beach about a hundred yards before that wave grabbed us.  A couple of trips back, after I got you ashore, was all the time I had.  I’ve been looking around.  Looks like we’re the only ones on this place, as far as I could see.  The good news is there is plenty of fruit around and I found a small fresh water stream about a quarter of a mile into the jungle.  Hungry?”

 

“Starved!  So, what are our chances of getting rescued?”

 

Jim handed me a couple of bananas from the bag while he proceeded to carve up a mango. 

 

“Well, I’m not sure where in the hell we are.  If we’re in the shipping lanes, we should be able to attract attention with a bonfire.  Maybe they’ll send out search planes looking for us when we don’t arrive in Tonga.  Until then, we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

 

Jim had salvaged a parachute from the plane and we used that to erect a shelter just inside the jungle.  Wet, afraid and hungry, I spent my first night.

 

As the days passed, I began to give up all hope that we would be found.  There was no sign of any passing ships or planes overhead.  I must confess that I was not uncomfortable living on the island.  Jim was a good provider of food and water and the shelter he had constructed protected us from the monsoon rains that came every evening.  He had not attempted any passes toward me which left me a bit confused but I enjoyed his company.

 

As time passed, our clothing became more and more disreputable.  With the combination of sun and rain, my T-shirt was little more than a few shreds of cloth.  Likewise, my shorts had torn in the most revealing places and did little to cover my ass.  Jim had long since tossed his shirt and was down to his trousers that he had removed the legs from.  His muscular body was on display and I couldn’t help but stare at him constantly.  I thought of taking a piece of the parachute to make a sarong out of but it was rapidly deteriorating as well.

 

After we had been marooned for more than a month, I was down to my thong panties and a T-shirt that barely covered my tits.  When it would rain, I may as well have been completely naked.  Jim pretended not to notice my nudity but I could tell from the lump in his trousers that he was well aware of it.  Finally, one night I was awakened when Jim’s hand began to massage my breasts.  Half awake, I moaned as the pleasant sensations filled my brain.  When his hand touched my stomach and began to stroke it gently, I whimpered and searched for his lips with my own.  His tongue explored the inner recesses of my mouth as we clasped each other tightly.

 

I felt his fingers grasped the top of my panties and I raised my hips as he pulled them down my legs.  I opened my thighs and gasped when I felt his stiff erection poised at the entrance to my pussy.

 

“Yes!  Yes!” I moaned, lifting my body to meet his.  With one thrust, he buried his cock in my sopping wet cunt, sending me into a frenzy of ecstasy.  Slowly he moved in and out of me while his lips caressed my nipples.  I was overcome with lust and wrapped my legs around his body, grunting with each thrust of his cock.  The two of us came simultaneously with my scream and his shout echoing through the jungle.  Exhausted, we lay still connected and fell into a deep sleep.

 

After that evening, we decided it was foolish to attempt to cover our nakedness.  Our clothes were in such disrepair anyway, we simply abandon the silly conventions and spent our days nude.  When Jim would look at me and smile in a certain way, I would smile back and the two of us would fuck until we couldn’t move.  It was an idyllic setting and we were once again Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.  It seemed that we had everything we needed and rescue was a distant dream.

 

I don’t know how long we had been on the island before the day I decided to do some exploring.  Jim and I had made love that morning to the accompaniment of my screams of pleasure.  With his cum dripping down my thighs, I laughed and ran down the beach, splashing in the gentle waves that washed the shore.  I had seldom roamed far from our little camp but that day I decided to see more of our island.

 

You see, I looked at it as our private little world, undisturbed by the witless demands of the world we had left.  Our days consisted of sleeping, eating, drinking and fucking.  What more could a person want?

 

I have no idea how far I wandered from our camp.  I had been gone well over an hour and developed a ravenous appetite.  Wandering into the inner jungle in search of some fruit I soon became disoriented and couldn’t find my way back to the beach.  The further I went, the more lost I became until I became terrified that I wouldn’t find my way back.  The jungle was so dense, the sun was virtually hidden from view, making it impossible to determine my directions.  The undergrowth tore at my flesh and I began to bleed from several small scratches on my hips and breasts.

 

Suddenly I stopped.  Staring at me from behind a large bush were two large eyes.  The face behind them was painted in several colors but the underlying flesh was black.  I turned to run but I was greeted with another pair of eyes.  Each direction I turned I found myself surrounded by these painted faces, staring silently at me.  I decided to make a dash for it and darted through the brush, ignoring the scrapes and abrasions from the undergrowth.  I had not traveled more than a few yards before strong arms grasped me around the shoulders. As I opened my mouth to scream, a hand clasped over my lips, muffling my cries for help.  More hands grasped my ankles and lifted my legs from the ground until I was held in the air, parallel to the earth.  I felt rough ropes being wrapped around my wrists and ankles, tied so tight that I cried out in pain.  A long pole slid between my arms and legs and I was hoisted into the air, slung by my arms and legs like a bundle of wash.  Off we went through the jungle at a rapid pace, the brush tearing at my exposed back and butt.  I was bounced up and down, my tits flopping obscenely and my breath coming in gasps. 

 

After what seemed an eternity, we cleared the jungle and I saw that we were once again on a beach.  Two dugout canoes had been pulled up on the sand and it was into one of these that my body was thrown.  With a shout, the natives pushed off into the water and began to paddle furiously.  Frightened and exhausted, I fell into a dark hole, seeking comfort from unconsciousness.

 

LATER

 

I have no idea how long I lay in the bottom of that canoe.  I was brought back when arms lifted me and the pole once again placed between my arms and legs.  Again we started back through the jungle, with me bouncing up and down lewdly.  After a while we came to a clearing and I could hear the shouts and murmurs of others.  When I was lowered to the ground, I saw dozens of natives gathered around me, staring down at me with curious eyes.  There were both men and women, young and old, and even several children surrounding me.  All of them were as naked as I and their dark skin glistened as if they had bathed in oil.

 

I was lifted to my feet and, for the first time, could get an impression of my surroundings.  I was in the middle of a large clearing in the jungle with small huts lining the edges of the clearing.  It was obviously a campground of the natives as several small fires were burning here and there and the smell of food cooking filled my nostrils.

 

For some strange reason, I was not particularly afraid, although the stares I received from both the men and the women did nothing to reassure me.  I tried to indicate that I was hungry and thirsty, but my pantomime was unsuccessful.  Gratefully, I held up my arms as the rope was cut from both my wrists and ankles.  I rubbed my arms to restore some circulation but was instantly seized by my shoulders and half pushed, half dragged toward the other side of the clearing.

 

I was taken to an area that was apart from the huts, just at the edge of the clearing.  Two posts stood a few feet apart and it was between these that I was taken.  Ropes once again encircled my wrists and my arms were raised from my sides and lashed to the two posts.  More ropes were tied to my ankles and my legs pulled wide apart to be secured to the posts.  I was now securely tied in a spread position and fear finally overtook me.  Expecting the worst, I was surprised when the crowd of natives dispersed, leaving me hanging between the posts alone.

 

Left to my thoughts, I wondered about Jim.  Would he come looking for me?  As far as I knew, I could be on a completely different island.  My idyllic world had suddenly come to an end.  Tears ran down my cheeks while I awaited whatever fate these strange people had in store for me.

TWO

TWO

 

I hung there all day while the natives went about their business, ignoring me completely.  A dozen or so of the men began building a small scaffold near the center of the clearing, covering it with palm leaves and flower decorations.  It appeared that some sort of celebration was going to take place and I wondered if I was going to be the feature attraction.

 

Toward dusk, six of the women came to me with small jars of oil and began to rub it all over my body.  The oil smelled like orchids and felt warm against my flesh.  Their hands covered me completely from neck to toe and the longer they worked, the warmer my skin got.  It also had the effect of making me extremely horny and I squirmed uneasily under the touch of these women.  One of the women held a stone flask to my lips and I drank deeply of a bitter potion, seeking only to satisfy my thirst.  I grew a little dizzy at first and then felt a warmth surge through my body that was almost overwhelming.  My animalistic inner being took over and I yearned for sexual release.

 

Finally, they were satisfied with their efforts and left me alone once again.  It was growing dark now and the men started a huge fire in the center of the clearing.  Drums started to beat and a chant rose from the natives as they gathered about the fire.  All of them were bouncing up and down to the rhythm of the drums and chanting some words that I couldn’t understand.  The rhythm flooded my brain and hypnotized me until I was almost in a trance.

 

This went of for at least an hour until everyone was in a frenzy as they circled the fire pit.  With a shout, they broke the circle and started toward where I hung suspended between the two posts.  My wrists and ankles were freed and I was lifted high into the air, supported by dozens of hands that held me horizontally.  Still chanting loudly, they carried me aloft as they trotted in huge circles around the fire.  By now, the oil on my flesh was beginning to get really warm and I was in a high state of lust.

 

Around and around the fire we circled, chanting and dancing while I was bounced up and down in sync with the movements of the hands holding me aloft.  My tits were all over the place and I wanted desperately to hold them but my hands were not free.  The world was whirling about me and I felt as if I was going to explode.

 

The dancing suddenly stopped but the drums continued their beat as I was lowered toward the ground.  But it was not the earth that I lay upon but the scaffold that I had watched them construct that afternoon.  My arms were raised over my head and I felt ropes tie my wrists to the two upper corners.  My legs were spread wide apart and tied to the other corners.  My butt was barely on the edge of the scaffold and I realized that my pussy was wide open and easily accessible.  It was then that I understood the purpose of this ritual.

 

It was obviously the chief that appeared between my thighs; his headdress his only article of clothing.  I raised my head and stared at the biggest, thickest cock I’d ever seen in my life; throbbing with a life of its own and poised to enter me.  Two women came and stood at my side, massaging my breasts and rubbing my nipples.  At that point I was so overcome, I could only swallow hard as the chief moved forward.  When he entered me, I cried out in delight. My pussy contracted and pulled him into me with a force that surprised me.  The muscles in my stomach began to clinch and relax as he moved in and out, sending wave after wave of desire to my brain.

 

The drum beat and the chanting brought me to the edge of delirium and my body was rising to meet the forward thrust of the native’s cock.  As his seed spilled inside me, I screamed to announce my orgasm.  Everything became blurred and my only sensation was of overwhelming lust.  Strange sounds were coming from my throat while my body continued to bounce up and down.  I whimpered as he withdrew, longing for more.

 

I was not to be disappointed.  Another took his place and another after him.  I could hear myself shrieking but I was consumed with pleasure.  Sweating heavily, I fought for my breath as orgasm after orgasm exploded inside me.  It seemed as if every man in the tribe was fucking me.  Someone grabbed my head and I saw a cock hovering above my face.  Instinctively I opened my mouth and received it between my lips.  I was now impaled upon two cocks, enmeshed in the most erotic experience of my life.  Two cocks were placed in my imprisoned hands and I began to milk them.  I had become an animal, seeking release in any way possible.

 

I felt the cock in my mouth begin to throb and quickly my mouth was filled with cum.  I swallowed as fast as I could but felt some dribble from the corners of my mouth.  With a loud grunt, the man between my legs shot his sperm deep inside me while my pussy gripped his shaft tightly.  Warm strings of cum shot over my stomach from the two men I was milking.  The women at my side bent down and began to suck at my nipples, sending me into a paroxysm of desire.  I couldn’t get enough.  Another man entered my pussy and still another entered my mouth.  I was experiencing one continuous orgasm that threatened to render me unconscious.

 

My ravishment seemed to last forever.  Just as I was on the verge of hysteria, my arms and legs were freed and I was once again lifted into the air and carried horizontally.  Bouncing up and down to the beat of the drums, I was transported around and around the clearing to the unearthly chant of the natives.  Cum flowed from my sopping pussy and covered my face and belly.  My cunt burned with the flame of a thousand fires and I grew weak from exhaustion.  After several minutes, I was carried back to the two posts and my arms raised to be tied once again above my head.  Unable to resist, I allowed my body to once again be spread between the two uprights.  Totally exhausted, my chin fell to my chest and I passed out.

 

LATER

 

I awakened sometime later to find that the sun had come up and two of the women were washing my body with a cloth and water.  One of them held a jar to my lips and I once again drank the bitter liquid that they had fed me the previous night.  Instantly a warmth surged through my body and the sensuous feelings that overcame me last evening started again.  Dazed and confused, I felt one of the women grasp my left tit.  Expecting her to massage it, I screamed as she thrust a long needle through the meat of my breast.  Wide awake now, I stared down at my injured breast and found a needle that appeared to be made of bone protruding several inches on either side of my tit, just behind my nipple.  Before I could protest, she had grasped my other tit and speared it with a similar needle.

 

“Aaarrggghhhhhh!!!” I screamed, my body shaking within the tight restraints.  In complete shock I stared down at two pieces of bone piercing my breasts.

 

Calmly and unperturbed, the two women took crudely fashioned rings, also made of a material that appeared to be bone and that had been bisected at one point, and bent them just slightly so that one edge was offset from the other.  Working the bone needles that pierced my flesh, they replaced them with the rings, carefully burying the broken edges deep inside my bosom.  I was breathing so hard, they had to hold my breasts firmly until they had finished their work.  Finally they stepped back and I stared down at two large rings, hanging from my tits.

 

When they grabbed my chin, I screamed once more as one of the women approached one more time with one of the bone needles.  Incredulously, they held me tight in a vise-like grip while the one with the needle pierced my septum.  The pain was so bad I blacked out.

 

I couldn’t have been out long before I regained consciousness to feel something being affixed to the lower part of my nose.  With my tongue, I explored the upper part of my lip, to find the shape of a ring hanging there.

 

“Ohhhhhhh, God! NOOOOOOOO!!!!” I screamed.  Permanently marred, I sobbed in desperation.  The native women paid me little notice as tears flowed down my cheeks.

 

For the next hour, I experienced the ultimate degradation as the two women proceeded to pluck all of my pubic hairs from my body.  With each tug, I cried out and shook but it did not deter the work of the natives.  Finally, they finished and I could stare down at my denuded pussy.   Strangely, I felt a wave of wantonness sweep over me while I viewed the two rings hanging from my nipples and my naked sex.

 

The women released me from the two poles and I rubbed my wrists to restore some circulation.  Having been restrained for so long, I found it difficult at first to stand but soon gathered my strength and took a couple of steps.  To my consternation, one of the women took a long strip of leather and tied it to the ring in my nose.  Grasping the other end like a leash, I was led around the clearing like an animal, on display for the rest of the tribe.  The men laughed as they watched me paraded about, and I suffered the worst humiliation of my life.  When everyone had seen the work of the native women, they took me to one of the grass huts and tied one of my ankles to a rope attached to the main support post of the shack.  I was left alone for the rest of the day, except for an occasional visit by one of the women who would bring me some cooked meat and more of that vile liquid they kept offering me to drink.

 

That night was a repeat of the first night.  The drums started to beat about sundown and several of the women came in the hut and began to anoint me with oil.  My body began to throb with passion as the oil warmed my flesh.  Then several of the men came to the shack, untied me, and hoisted me in the air as they had done before.  Again I was carried out into the clearing and marched around in a circle for several minutes before being carried to the small stage where my arms and legs were securely anchored.  For the second night in a row, I was plundered by every man in the tribe until I lay exhausted with cum covering my body and dripping from my newly bared pussy.  Again, after I was paraded around the clearing they hung me up between the posts where I spent another exhaustive night.

 

Days passed and the routine never varied.  I spent my day inside one of the huts, tied to a post and at night I was fucked until I collapsed.  My pussy was so sore I couldn’t bear to think about another bout with the tribesmen but invariably the drums started their imposing message each evening at sundown.

 

Time became meaningless in my life since each day was no different from the last.  When I noticed that my stomach was beginning to swell and I experienced nausea daily, I began to wonder if I were pregnant.  Eventually, I had no doubt:  I was going to have a baby!

 

My delicate condition was no determent to the nightly ceremony.  Only until I was near delivery did they spare me the evening ravishment.  When the labor pains began, I cried out and two of the native women came to the shack to minister to me.  While I lay on a crude cloth blanket with my legs spread and raised in the air, a little black boy popped out of my uterus.  The native women laughed and caressed my cheek as they placed him on my stomach.  I felt the strangest sensation as I gathered my newly born son to my breast and allowed him to suckle.

 

The days following the birth of my son were spent happily holding him and allowing him to feed at my breast.  The native women were very attentive and even allowed me some freedom to move about the camp grounds.  I was never out of eyesight, however, and the thought of escape really never occurred to me.  You may think it odd that I was comfortable in my surroundings but I had not been harmed in any way since my capture.  To the contrary, I had experienced a sexual satisfaction that, before I was captured, would have never been achievable.  Yes, I enjoyed Jim’s company (I wonder what happened to him) but the gratification was fleeting, unlike my experience with the natives.  In short, I was at peace with myself and my environment.  Motherhood had brought out a side of me that I was never aware of.

 

Months went by without incident and soon we were back to the nightly rituals.  I wondered why none of the other young native girls were used as I and with the smattering of words that I had learned from one of the women, I found that they considered me to be a white goddess.  Intercourse with me was to guarantee immortality.  Of course, they could fuck me to death but they would live forever!  Nevertheless, I accepted my role and even became to look forward to it.  It was as if my prior life had never existed.

 

My contentment was shattered one day when I awoke to the sound of gunfire.  I rushed from my hut to find a dozen white men with rifles leveled at the tribe.  Zooma, the tribal chief, was arguing strongly in his native language and gesturing fiercely toward the whites.  Suddenly, one of the white men raised his rifle and shot Zooma.  I screamed and ran to him, cradling his head in my arms.  His eyes were dazed and blood poured form a wound in his chest.  I moaned as I rocked his body back and forth, holding him as he drew his last breath.

 

“Well, look what we have here!”

 

The voice behind me brought me back to reality and I suddenly recognized that I was naked in front of a group of white men.  I screamed as my arms were grasped and I was lifted from the ground.

 

 

 

 

THREE

THREE

 

While I was held tightly by two men, I watch in horror as, one by one, members of the tribe were executed.  I screamed as my son was shot in the head and lay dead at my feet.  For more than an hour the slaughter continued until only five other young women and myself remained alive.

 

We were lined up in a single file and stood while ropes were tied around our wrists.  We were then put in coffle with rope around our neck and, at the urging of whips, began marching through the jungle.  A glance back revealed the camp blazing with the dead strewn about in the center ground.  I sobbed in despair as my final vision was of my dead son, resting with the other tribal people.

 

For more than an hour we marched through the undergrowth, frequently prodded by a rifle butt or whip to move faster.  I could hear some of the women in front of me crying softly as we marched and struggled to hold back my own tears.  What fate awaited the six of us I didn’t know but I was sure that it would not be pleasant.

 

Finally we reached the beach and I was startled to see a sailing ship anchored a few hundred yards off shore.  A two masted schooner, it seemed a relic of the past.  We were shoved into a large row boat that had been pulled up on the beach and sat silently as the men began rowing toward the larger ship.

 

A large cargo net was swung over the side of the ship and the six of us were thrown into it.  Unceremoniously, we were lifted high in the air and swung onto the deck of the schooner.  After disengaging myself from five sweating bodies, I stood and surveyed my surroundings.  My hands were still tied behind my back and I wanted very much to cover myself.  I decided that modesty was simply a state of mind and so I thrust my body forward defiantly at the same time a cabin door opened and a large man strode onto the deck.

 

He was huge!  His arms that protruded from a dirty white T-shirt were as big as my thighs!  His face was almost hidden behind a black, bushy beard but his black eyes were like knives that penetrated my very soul.  He adjusted an equally dirty Captain’s hat on his head and stared at the six of us for several long minutes.  I had never felt more naked than when his eyes covered me from top to bottom.

 

“The name’s Hawk!  Captain Hawk!”  His words were lost on all but me as my companions stared at him curiously.  Sensing that, he directed his eyes toward me.

 

“Where are you taking us?” I cried, boldly.

 

“To the slave markets, whore!” he bellowed.  “I expect you will draw a pretty penny, compared to your negra friends here!”

 

“You are a monster!” I shouted. “Killing poor innocent people!  You despicable , loathsome. . .”

 

My head snapped back as his hand struck my cheek with all of his strength.  My vision blurred as tears formed in my eyes and I felt a trickle of blood seep from the corner of my mouth.

 

“Shut your mouth, whore!  You will learn your station or suffer the consequences!  Shark, teach these slaves what happens to those who resist orders!”

 

Tamara was the first of us taken and lashed to the main mast.  She looked back in terror as the man called Shark unfurled a black bull whip and positioned himself a few feet behind her.  His arm shot forward and the leather band seemed to uncurl in slow motion, burying itself between Tamara’s shoulder blades.  She screamed in agony as a vivid red welt suddenly sprang up where the whip had touched her.

 

Again Shark struck with the whip and once more Tamara screamed in agony as her body surged forward against the mast.  Another red welt appeared parallel to the first and she shook in a frenzy of pain while sobs echoed from her throat.

 

A third lash crossed the first two and Tamara threw back her head and shrieked the most unearthly cry I have ever heard.  Sobbing uncontrollably, her body sank and she hung suspended by her wrists.  One of the crewmen untied her hands and she collapsed to the deck, curled in a fetal position while continuing to wail her distress.

 

Uta was next and she started screaming the instant they began to tie her arms around the mast.  Her cries continued unabated as she received three strokes of the whip and fell to join Tamara on the deck.

 

Down the line they moved, each girl being lashed to the mast to receive three blows of Shark’s whip.  I was the last in line.

 

As my hands were being tied while I hugged the wooded shaft, I heard Captain Hook’s orders.

 

“Turn this one around!  I want her to see it coming!”

 

I was turned with my back against the mast and my arms raised high over my head where they were tied to a hook above me.  I glared defiantly at the Captain as Shark unfurled his whip.

 

I can’t describe the incredible pain of a whip against bare flesh.  My vision blurred into a red haze while I clinched my teeth; determined not to give these slavers the benefit of my torment.  I wondered if my flesh had been torn as the leather snaked around my waist, leaving a vivid trail of pain in its wake.  My legs began to shake and my breath came in huge gasps.  I had barely recovered when the second stroke buried itself across my thighs.  My legs collapsed beneath me and I swung limply by my wrists.  Sweat poured from my body and I found it almost impossible to fill my lungs with air.  Snot dripped from my nose and I shook my head in astonishment that something could hurt so much.

 

What I found was that the first two strokes were simply a prelude to the real agony.  The third found my quivering breasts and I was certain that my nipples had been ripped from my body.  My resolve disappeared and my screams echoed throughout the ship.  I lost control of my bladder and pissed all over my legs and the deck.  I shook my head frantically waiting for the pain to dissolve.  When my hands were released, I fell to my hands and knees, unable to stand.  My breath was coming in gasps.  My hair hung down over my face as I cupped one hand against my injured tits, sobbing despairingly.

 

“Crawl, bitch!  Crawl over here and hug my leg!”

 

My brain was swimming in a pool of suffering as I, without thinking, began to crawl across the deck, mewling like a sick calf.  When I reached the Captain’s boots, I wrapped my arms around his lower leg and hugged him with all of my strength.  My reaction, I later realized, was like a punished child attempting to gain favor with her father.

 

“Get these slaves to the cages!” the Captain shouted, as he kicked me away.  I felt hands grabbed me under my arms and lift me from the deck.  I was dragged to a hole in the deck and sensed that I was being lowered.  Another set of hands took me by my hips and carried me a short distance where I felt myself being placed inside a metal contrivance.  At that point exhaustion overcame me and I passed out.

 

LATER

 

The metal contrivance, as I found when I awoke, was a steel cage; no more than three feet square and six feet long.  Stacked one on top of the other, they were the quarters for slaves.  If you were unfortunate enough to be beneath one or more of the cages, as I was, you were the receptacle for all bodily waste of the ones caged above you.  A glass container affixed to the end of the cage was equipped with a straw through which I was able to drink rank water.  We were handed pieces of hard bread and tough, stringy meat once each day.

 

The first day of our captivity we were taken to the ship’s blacksmith where we were outfitted with steel bands around our wrists, ankles and throat.  Small rings attached to the bands were joined by lengths of chain that connected our wrists and ankles.  The ring was removed from my nose but those hanging from my breasts were left in place.  The chains were an additional reminder that we were slaves and would be treated as such.

 

For thirty minutes twice each day we were allowed on deck to parade around to the accompaniment of hoots and jeers from the crew.  Our job was to scrub the deck with small brushes while Shark encouraged us with a riding crop.  Mindlessly, I labored like a robot; memories of that awful whip still fresh in my mind.  Days passed without significant change and the six of us were soon submissively conditioned to our adversity.  Although several of my companions were sexually assaulted during the brief stay on the deck, I, fortunately, was spared of this degrading experience.

 

Over a week into the voyage toward our destiny of slavery, I was summoned in the middle of the night from my cage by Shark.

 

Cap’n wants to see you!” he remarked as I extricated myself from the cramped quarters of my cage.  Someone above me had pissed all over my back and Shark hosed me down before leading me up a ladder to the main deck.  I was led to the Captain’s room where I found him sitting in a large upholdstered chair.  He was completely naked.

 

I stared at him indifferently although I was taken aback by the amount of body hair covering his immense body.  Nestled between his fat belly and huge thighs was a thick cock. 

 

“Come here, whore!” he shouted, spreading his thick legs apart.  “I need servicing!”

 

The thought of taking that cock in my mouth was so repellant, I shouted back without thinking.

 

“Go fuck yourself!”

 

His face turned red as he stood up from his chair.  “You will learn not to defy me, slave!  Shark!”

 

He must have been listening at the door because he entered the room immediately.

 

“Aye! Aye! Captain!”

 

“Haul ‘er!  And make sure the rest of those bitches watch!  I’ll show them not to disobey!”

 

Shark jerked me around and pulled me out of the Captain’s quarters and onto the main deck.  I was half pulled, half dragged over to the main mast where the chain connecting my wrists was looped over the hook high over my head.  I expected the whip again but Shark left me hanging there for the rest of the night.

 

As dawn broke, I heard a commotion and, looking over my shoulder, I saw my companions being led up on the deck.  They were soon joined by most of the crew who stood in a semi-circle around me.  Shark came and unhooked my wrists from the mast.  He had a long length of rope that he used to tie one end around the chain binding my wrists and the other end around the chain binding my ankles.  With several of the crew following, I was manhandled to the bow of the boat and watched as Shark threw the length of rope across the bow and into the ocean.  I instantly felt a tug against my wrists and ankles and turned to stare at Shark in surprise.

 

“Say hello to my relatives,” he grinned as he gave me a shove.  Stunned, I felt myself falling off of the ship and into the water.

 

The rope tightened and I was stretched taut against the hull of the ship as the waves pounded against my body.  Slowly, I felt myself being pulled across the hull by my feet.  The rough wood and barnacles cut into my flesh but I was only aware of my inability to breathe.  Panicky, I struggled to hold my breath as long as I could while I continued my journey across the bow of the boat.  Just as I reached the point where I could hold it no longer, I felt my feet clear the water and soon I was hauled back up on the deck, gasping and retching. 

 

Before I could recover, the rope yanked against my feet and I was over the side once again.  I inhaled a lung full of air as best I could but the force of the waves beating against me knocked much of it out of me.  An eternity passed before my head broke above the water and I was hauled up again on the deck, gasping for breath.

 

Once more I felt the tug against my wrists and I screamed as I dove over the side of the ship and began my third journey across the hull. I fought and struggled to no avail as the water hammered against me and my body scraped against the rough surface of the ship.  I have no recollection of my final passage until I came to lying on the deck, puking up salt water.  At that point, I would have fucked and sucked every man on that ship. Anything to avoid another trip across the hull. Instead I was carried to the bowsprit and lashed to the bow just a few feet above the water line.  Each dip of the bow sent water spraying across me as the ship sailed onward.  For the entire day, I spent as the maiden of the bowsprit, puking and retching until I hung exhausted at day’s end.

 

 

FOUR

FOUR

 

The voyage lasted three weeks.  After my ordeal of being keel-hauled, I was the most submissive slave on board.  Anytime the Captain or one of the crew even glanced my way, I flopped on my back and spread my legs.  I was fucked at least a dozen times a day, frequently in full display of the rest of the crew.  Strangely, I took some pleasure from these experiences and often displayed wild and uncontrollable orgasms as I was raped in full view of the crew.  I would be on my hands and knees, my tits bouncing wildly beneath me as my rapist would pound his meat into me while I screamed my pleasure.

 

As the ship’s main whore, I avoided many hours in the cages below decks for which I was thankful.  This did not mean I escaped unscathed.  Aside from the sexual assaults, I was strung up on the mast each day and received five strokes of the whip.  Even this became something I almost looked forward to as the pain sent me into a state of mind that bordered on the erotic.  The first time I had an orgasm while being whipped stunned me.  My body was rubbing against the post while the whip tattooed my back and I screamed; not in agony but ecstasy.  When I was let loose, I lay on the deck gasping; my body covered in sweat, and my pussy sopping wet as well.  My mind was awhirl with conflicting sensations.  What was happening to me?  Julie Hudson, professional photographer was now no more than a pain slut?  I was too confused to sort out the answer.  My hand unconsciously crept between my legs and stroked my swollen clit.  I lived only for the moment.  There was no past, no future.  Julie Hudson, sex slave, pain slut, whore, fuck meat, cock sucker, masochist and exhibitionist.  I even learned to take it up the ass and enjoy it.

 

This is how it began:  I was in the Captain's quarters for my nightly fuck soon after my ordeal beneath this ship's waters. Down on all fours, I was rocking back and forth in rhythm to Hawk's thrusts, grunting like a sow in heat.  My tits were swaying back and forth like a sack of marbles and sweat dripped from the tips of my nipples to puddle on the floor beneath me.

 

Suddenly Hawk paused, withdrew his cock from my sopping pussy, spread my cheeks and poised the head of his cock at the entrance to my puckered hole.

 

"NO!  OH, GOD!  PLEASE DON'T WAIT!  OH, GOD. . . ."

 

But he didn't wait.  Hawk plunged his cock into my dry ass hole as I screamed in anguish.  God, it hurt!  It hurt bad!  I was sure he was going to tear me apart as he began to pump in and out. I was sobbing unmercifully while my insides felt as if they were on fire.  But, gradually, my sphincter muscles began to relax and it no longer hurt as much.  My lasciviousness returned as I felt his belly slap against my butt and soon I was rocking back and forth as before, grunting with each stroke.  When Hawk reached under me and flicked my clit with his thumb I went over the edge.  I shrieked in pleasure at the precise moment I felt his cock erupt and send his load of cum deep into my bowels.  Hawk continued to pump into me as my orgasm gradually receded.  I was gasping for breath and my heart was beating ninety miles an hour.  Finally I collapsed on my belly with Hawk lying on top of me.  A faint groan of satisfaction from his throat was echoed by me.

 

From that moment on, I wore the knob end of a belaying pin stuck up my ass wherever I went, only to be removed when the Captain or one of the crew was fucking me.  After a brief period my sphincter stretched until I was able to accept most cocks without difficulty.  A new Julie Hudson: bunghole jumper!

 

 

“Land ho!” came the cry from high up the mast and everyone scurried to the ship’s rail.  I was in the midst of my afternoon scourging and was left to seek release by rubbing my pussy against the mast.  The crew began to bustle about, hauling in some sail and raising others while I was left hanging on the mast, ignored in the preparations.  Finally, the other five women were brought up from below and I was released from the mast.  The six of us were lifted up on the rigging and lashed there as trophies to be displayed as we sailed into port.  With my arms and legs spread wide against the ropes I watched as the ship docked. 

 

We were apparently in a fairly large city, the nationality of which I couldn’t determine.  There were hundreds of people on the dock, both men and women as well as a few small children.  Their dark skins glistened as ebony and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen appeared in open mouths They were laughing and pointing at the six naked women hanging from the rigging as our crew made the ship fast. 

 

Finally we were released and lowered to the deck.  Our hands and ankles were once again joined by links of chain and an additional link was used to join our collar to the chain binding our wrists.  We were then marched off of the ship, down the gangplank, and onto the city’s streets.

 

In single file we marched through the city while scores of people stared at us, making obscene remarks in a language I took to be Italian.  Some of the children threw small rocks at us to the enjoyment of their parents.  By the time we had gone three blocks, all of us were sobbing in a mixture of despair and humiliation.

 

Through the streets they took us until we reached what appeared to be the town square.  A large fountain occupied the center although no water flowed from it.  Behind the fountain and on one side of the square was a huge edifice that reminded me of a bull ring.  There were banners and flags flying from the top which stood at least four stories tall.  An entrance faced the square that was guarded by steel bars.  It was here we were taken as the gate swung open slowly and we entered.

 

I could see through a passage what appeared to be a large arena but we were taken to a flight of stairs leading down beneath the building.  Down and down we went until I guessed we were at least four flights below the street.  What greeted me as we arrived there was overwhelming.

 

A huge enclosure lined with steel bars filled almost all of the space.  Inside were at least two dozen people, both men and women, all naked and chained as I and my five companions.  We were pushed inside the huge cage and the door clanged shut behind us.

 

I glanced around.  The area was lit by torches that flickered dimly but gave enough light to easily see our dire surroundings.  The barred enclosure was void of any furnishings as far as I could see.  The inmates, who are what we were, were free to move about except all of us bore heavy chains that clanked against the stone floor whenever we took a step.

 

I saw one of the male slaves fucking one of the women over in a corner and no one was paying them much attention.  I couldn’t help but stare at them and I felt my pussy growing wetter by the moment as I watched.  Unconsciously, my hand crept between my thighs and a finger slipped inside my lips.

 

“Need some help with that?”

 

The voice behind me startled me so I jumped a little.  Turning, I found myself face to face with a very handsome man.  In fact, he was an Adonis with broad shoulders, muscular chest, narrow waist and hips, and . . .wow!

 

‘I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.  My name is Boris.  And you are. . . ?

 

“Julie. . .I’m sorry, I guess I was sort of lost in thought.”

 

“Yes, I noticed that.  They make an interesting couple, don’t they?  They’ve been fucking each other since I arrived here two days ago.  You would think they would rest once in a while, wouldn’t you.”

 

“Hmmmm. . . .well, they certainly are oblivious to the rest of us.  Anyone who can make the best of this situation should be applauded.  Or at least, left alone.”

 

“If the guards catch them, they will be punished.  They have already been caught once but it doesn’t seem to bother them all that much.  I watched them being whipped early this morning and now they’re back at it again.”

 

I realized my hand was still over my cunt and I jerked it away nervously.  A silly grin passed over my face as Boris smiled at me.

 

“How did you happen to be brought here? I asked, hoping to divert his attention from my obvious embarrassment.

 

“Slavers kidnapped me last week while I was vacationing in Southern France.  I was drugged and woke up here day before yesterday.  I have no idea how long I was unconscious or where we are except this is an obvious slave auction.  What about you?”

 

“I was kidnapped on an island in the South Pacific and brought here on a slaver’s ship.  I am, or was, a professional photographer who happened to be involved in an airplane crash somewhere on a deserted island.  Slavers took me after I’d been there for more than a year, living with natives.  Five of the native girls were taken with me.  You can see them over there.”

 

“You are very beautiful, Julie.  I expect they will demand a high price for you in the auction.”

 

“How does that work?”

 

“You’ll be taken into the arena and displayed.  Perhaps they will whip you so that you will show them how you react to the whip.  They will make you degrade yourself.  Then the auction will begin and the auctioneer will do things to you in order to raise the bidding.  After what seems an eternity, you will be sold.”

 

I shuddered involuntarily.  Clutching my arms across my breasts, I inhaled sharply.

 

“After what I’ve been through the last year, I can’t imagine doing anything more to degrade myself.  You said you’ve been here two days.  How often do they hold these auctions?”

 

“Once a week, I’m told.  The next one is tomorrow.”

 

“Good!  They wouldn’t dare whip us the day before the auction, would they?”

 

LATER

 

I awoke in the arms of Boris and sat up, unsure of where I was for a brief moment.  Around me were the sleeping bodies of the other slaves.  I heard grunting sounds and gazed over into the far corner where the same couple were once again enthusiastically making love.  I smiled and looked back down at Boris, still asleep.  The two of us had matched the other couple with loud obscene noises last night.  I stroked his bare chest and wished that our circumstances were far different.

 

I looked about for some means of relieving myself but found nothing.  The urge overcame modesty and I found an empty corner of the cage where I crouched and emptied my bladder.  I saw several of the others doing the same and realized that we were nothing more than animals, waiting for someone to take us in.

 

Boris was awake when I returned to his side.  He smiled up at me and I saw that he had a huge erection.

 

“I thought we took care of that last night!” I exclaimed, wrapping my fingers around is throbbing shaft.

 

“To see you as you are in the morning stirs my senses.  I wish our circumstances were different.  I would like a thousand nights like last night.”

 

I was about to respond when a loud clanging interrupted my thoughts.  I looked up to see several men dressed in white togas banging on the steel bars that enclosed us.  They had plates of bread and bottles of water and were throwing them through the bars.  I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten since I had left the ship and was ravenously hungry.  There was a mad scramble for the food and several fights broke out.  I was pushed about by angry people and thrown away from the supplies.

 

Just when I gave up any hope of getting something to eat, Boris appeared with two rolls of bread and two bottles of water.  A thin cut dripped blood from his arm but he was grinning as he sat down beside me.

 

“Desperate people do desperate things!” he said as he bit into the roll.  I glanced back at the others just as someone screamed at the top of their lungs.  A woman staggered out of the circle of people holding her hand between her legs.  Sobbing, she fell to her knees, still clutching her pussy.  I turned away, unable to watch her suffering.

 

As the morning wore on, the occupants of the cage began to mill about, talking in a myriad of different languages.  I recognized some were Hispanic, some were Asian and others were European but I did not find any other Americans in the group.  About noon, the doors opened to the main building and people began to file in.  Men and women circled the cages, peering at us curiously and making notes on little tablets as they moved.

 

Despite myself, I found the experience erotic.  There is something about being naked in front of fully clothed people that is at once humiliating and at the same time arousing.  A woman of obvious European ethnicity stood staring at me for several long minutes.  In response, I thrust out my breasts and spread my legs.  She stared at me for a few more moments, smiled and made a note in her book.  Others passed by and seemed startled to see an American in with the myriad of other nationalities.  An Asian man grinned at me and made several notes on his tablet.

 

After an hour or two the people filed out and a number of guards circled the cage.  Two of them entered the enclosure and grabbed the couple who had been so industriously making love.  The girl cried out and tried to pull away but she was no match for the guards.  The couple disappeared from the room, struggling but to no avail.

 

Gradually, the cage was emptied until there were only four of us left.  When the guards came and took me, I looked back at Boris and he smiled at me, giving me the “thumbs up” signal.  I could hardly agree with his optimism.

 

I was taken to a small room on the same level as the cage where two women oiled my body until it glistened.  The chains were removed that bound my wrists and ankles but they left the chain hanging loosely from my collar and it brushed against my breasts as I walked.  The guards returned and I climbed the long flight of stairs to my destiny of slavery.

 

 

 

 

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