PART 2
The Arab addressed the captives.
"OK, that's the preliminaries out the way, you'll now be taken to your
cells. I don't know when you'll meet up as a group again, male and female
prisoners are normally segregated. Of course some of you may never meet again.
If anyone steps out of line the retribution is swift and final here. However,
we are civilised people so we have got Liberation Front tee shirts to wear on
your way to the cells but you'll have to be secured. So, quickly now, all stand
and put these on."
He pointed to a pile of identical white tee shirts on the floor. The
captives struggled into them. They were all the same size and bearing the logo
of a clenched black fist. They barely covered their buttocks and then their
wrists were again cuffed behind them and blindfolds put in place. Through the
door down the stairs again they were blindly led. More yelps from the gym.
Patrick jumped felt hands grab his swinging manhood as he was led through. Rose
too started as someone lifted her tee shirt and humiliatingly smacked her
bottom. She recalled a few weeks ago threatening to report someone for sexual
harassment for lightly patting her bottom over her skirt. Now these swine, of
both sexes, could take whatever liberties they liked.
On they went; seemingly endless corridors and down more cold stairs then
they were halted.
Martin and Patrick were pushed through a metal door and their blindfolds
and cuffs were removed. They were in a small cell with two beds and tables. The
Negress and the Arab stood before them. The Arab spoke.
"Right gentlemen, take off the tee shirts, hold them above your heads
with straight arms and kneel with your legs apart " They looked briefly at each
other hesitantly but saw the Negress begin to unholster her gun and they quickly
complied.
The terrorists looked down with a sneer at their naked kneeling
captives.
"That is the position you adopt when anyone enters the cell and you will
always address us, your captors, as Sir or Madam. There are a list of rules on
the wall, these you will memorise as you will your prisoner numbers, 121 Hughes,
122, Western. You will be tested on your understanding of them later when
toilet facilities are brought in. Now, if you will excuse us, we must attend to
the ladies. They are so much more interesting to look at than yourselves" The
door banged shut and locked. The two men looked bleakly at each other as they
pulled on their tee shirts, imagining their women being similarly treated or
worse.
The three women were likewise pushed into a cell and their blindfolds
and cuffs removed. It was smallish, similar to the men's cell but had three
beds, with thin mattresses and single sheets and tables. No windows but a
grilled light shone down again, the same procedure. This time the Negress
snapped at Linda, Ellen and Rose to hold their tee shirts aloft and kneel with
legs splayed wide. She barked further orders, punctuated with a kick until all
three captives had their legs wide enough and their arms and backs straight
enough for her satisfaction and that they were looking directly at her.
The spiteful ebony woman addressed them whilst the Arab leaned casually
against a wall.
"You sluts will adopt this exact position whenever anyone enters the
cell. From tomorrow, you will also call out your surname and individual prisoner
number; memorise them. Western you are 123718, Hughes, 124719, Pierce, 125720.
The toilet bucket for all of your needs will be brought in once at night and
once in the morning and maybe midday. There will be no other opportunities at
other times you will have to learn self control - not that you will get that
much to eat or drink anyway. You will always address us, your captors, as Sir or
Madam, but you will not normally speak unless spoken to. There is a list of the
rules on the wall. Study it, we will be back shortly to introduce you to our
leader. " The door banged shut.
The three women gradually broke their poses and each one cried as they
pulled on their small tight tee shirts. They sobbed together, clutching each
other, as they wondered what kind of hell they had fallen into.
Time passed, Rose had a need to go toilet but knew she must restrain
herself. Going to the toilet was something so natural, so basic, so shaming,
but now it was forbidden her. They had read the list of rules. Much the same as
they had already been told but additional things such as only being allowed to
use the toilet under supervision, not leaving their beds at night, only laying
in one position in the bed. The 5am rising, making their bed, that the cell was
under constant video surveillance, the physical exercise they would be given,
the reading and writing tuition work they would be given on the Liberation
Front's aims etc. She could scarcely take it all in. Suddenly footsteps in the
corridor and the door banged open.
Rose was slow in responding and an Oriental girl's hand slapped hard
across her face. Crying out in pain and shock, suppressing her initial rage,
she saw Linda and Ellen pulling off their tee shirts and sinking to their knees.
Quickly Rose copied till all three captives knelt naked, holding their
tee-shirts with straight arms above their heads, legs spayed crudely wide as if
in offering, backs straight, looking fearfully at the spiteful Oriental girl and
the tall woman who was gracefully entering their cell. Rose felt so abjectly
shamed at her humiliating posture, longing to cover herself, to protest, but
scared to do anything but comply. She was perhaps in her late 40s slightly
Arabic, slender, elegant and graceful dressed in an elegant evening gown. She
stood silently looking down, appraising the three naked captives through hooded
eyes. Her elegant clothing emphasised their stark nakedness. Then Linda felt
the woman touching her shoulder; she shuddered.
"Stand child, I want to look at you, drop the tee shirt and place your
hands behind your neck," the woman purred.
Linda stood rigid under her scrutiny as the woman walked round her; she
touched and prodded here and there. Feeling an arm muscle, lifting her ponytail,
tracing a finger down Linda's elegant neck to the tip of a breast, patting her
bottom.
"Open your mouth," she commanded and then slid a finger gently between
Linda's lips, sliding it seductively in and out. She made the blonde poke her
tongue out fully, held it painfully, twisting it up and down.
"Hmm, nice mouth and tongue, I expect you've used them for many
purposes."
Linda, blushing furiously, said, nothing, staring straight ahead
wide-eyed. Suddenly she too received a teeth rattling slap from the Oriental
girl.
"You were asked a question girl. Now answer your mistress," snapped the
Oriental. Gulping, her cheeks still stinging, Linda struggled to reply, what
could she say?
"Y-yes," she stammered. Another hard slap across the other cheek sent
Linda momentarily staggering until she resumed her hands on head position.
"Answer respectfully girl," the Chinese girl snarled.
"S sorry, yes Mistress," Linda managed.
"Good, good," purred the leader, " We'll overlook the transgression as
you are new but in future you will not be so fortunate." The irony was not lost
on the captives. Kidnapped, standing naked in a cell before these monsters and
fortunate for only being slapped for not calling them mistress.
Linda cringed as the woman pressed her lips against hers. She smelt the
alcohol on them, let the lips opened her own. Trembling in shame and fear she
stood passive as the tongue darted into her mouth. The woman pulled away
smiling,
"Yes, we must get to know each other better later on." Linda felt sick.
Then it was Ellen's turn. Linda had to resume her kneeling posture
whilst Ellen stood rigid hands clasped behind her neck and the woman strolled
round her, goose-bumps had broken out on her bare silken flesh, she shivered.
The woman's hands again touched and stroked. She took one of Ellen's breasts,
which were larger than Linda's, in each hand, weighing up, fingers brushing her
nipples to erection. A tear sprang from Ellen's eyes.
"Does your nudity trouble you?"
"Y yes..Mistress."
"Why?"
"My, my clothes.. Mistress" Ellen began but the woman shushed her.
"I know a woman without her clothes, her handbag, cards and jewellery
loses her identity," the woman seemed to console. "But it is necessary child,
just as your body is totally open and bare, so I want your soul to be similarly
bare before me, no secrets, none. It will help your re-education, make it
easier without any distractions. Come let me give you a little kiss." The
woman's lips brushed over Ellen's tears then onto her lips. Then the Oriental
girl pushed Ellen to her knees and Rose placed in the standing position.
Rose bit her lips as the marauding hands stroked her shoulder-length
tousled blonde hair. Her breathing increased as the fingertips trailed almost
sensually down the arch of her spine, to stroke over the silken softness of her
flinching bottom, almost making her believe it was her husband's touch. She
was by now anxious to use a toilet and had to hold herself in. Then the woman
stood directly before her. Rose jumped as a knee slid between her open thighs
and her hands slid onto her buttocks and pulled her obscenely against her. The
woman murmured.
"Mmm, you're hot." She rocked Rose gently forward and back suggestively
against her knee. Then placing a hand either side of Rose's head she kissed her
full on the lips. With a all too familiar pat on her bottom Rose was then
pushed down with the others and the woman addressed them all.
"It's been a long day, I'm off to bed now. I'm sorry your quarters are
not so luxurious as you are used to but maybe your stay here will not be too
long; that is your Government's concern. This is a mainly female organisation
with only a few men, so you must adapt to that. Obey my people at all times and
you may live through this experience; if not you'll only have yourselves to
blame. " She flounced off without another word leaving the kneeling captives
with the Oriental girl and the Negress who came in through the door with a
bucket and a tray with three cups.
The Negress dropped the bucket containing a toilet roll before them.
"Right you cows, you get ten minutes to have a crap or piss in the
bucket then that's it for the night. We shall be watching, so get on with it,
and you may each have a cup of water. " She put the tray down and she and the
Oriental girl lit up cigarettes, sitting on a bed.
The three naked, kneeling women hesitated.
"Well, get on with it you stupid c___s. You do it now in the bucket if
you want to go, or hold it till the morning; either way you only go in the
bucket and we watch you. Don't even think about what happens if you mess the
cell. Well, what are you waiting for, anyone want it or shall we take it away?"
The Negress moved to remove it but Rose got up, picking up her tee shirt,
pulling it on and moving to the bucket, reaching out.
"No, please..Mistress, I need to go."
"Well do it c__t." she snapped.
The captives were silent, only their tormentors chattered. Blushing
crimson, eyes to the floor Rose squatted over the bucket, feeling utterly
shamed, yet having to obey her body's needs. The Negress leered at her.
"No, I want you to look me in the eye as you go, don't take your eyes
off me and while you go, I want you to sing to me, Yellow River I think," she
said smiling.
"Please..... Mistress I"
"Shut up, just look at me as you go."
Rose inwardly shuddered, another humiliation. She had to stare into the
monster's cruel, amused eyes. Both of her captors smirked as she strained;
then, eventually she was able to release her bladder noisily into the metal
bucket. Jokingly they held their noses. She had to continue looking directly
at them as she wiped herself. Then Linda and Ellen followed. The captives
drank the water from the cups and the women stood to leave.
"You all sleep face down in the beds; no other position. No talking or
leaving the beds. One of the lights stay on so we can see you through the
surveillance camera. Right, shift yoh fat arses into bed, now, go. "
Linda, Ellen and Rose quickly got into bed and lay face down. The woman
picked up the bucket and tray and the cell door banged shut, locked, and the
room dimmed. The room was silent but for the subdued sobs of the three
terrified women crying themselves to sleep.
Rose blinked awake. Where was she? Was this a nightmare? Her eyes
took in the other beds, the forms of her friends lying there silently in the
half-light. No, this was her new reality. On waking, at home, she would
normally, have gone to the lavatory to empty her bladder but this was not home
and that was a luxury she no longer had, she tried to forget about it. " How
long would it be?" she thought, before they brought that horrible bucket. She
heard a banging, footsteps, oh no, 5am already? Harsh voices outside, then the
door being unlocked and opened. Already the others were getting out of bed and
pulling their tee shirts off. Rose quickly copied, also sinking to her knees,
legs splayed shamefully.
"There was something else they had to do", she thought fearfully, Linda
got there first.
" Western, 123718 Mistress."
The harsh looking female guard, German looking, then looked down at
Ellen. She was in trouble too.
"Hughes, 124 er, 7, er, sorry Mistress I don't know." She finished in
a whisper.
The cold eyes then turned to Rose, but her mind had gone completely
blank in this nightmare scenario.
"Pierce, please Mistress, I cannot remember my number."
The woman spat venom at the shivering naked figures of Rose and Ellen.
"You stupid c___s, you will learn your prisoner numbers."
She repeated the numbers one digit at a time to each captive,
punctuating each number by kicking their bare breasts, aiming for the nipples,
reducing both Ellen and Rose to tears. It hurt their pride as much as their
flesh. Then she had them, sobbing, repeat the numbers.
" Hughes, 124719 Mistress."
" Pierce, 125720 Mistress". No encouragement, just a simple,
"Correct".
Then a small Oriental girl entered with a tray of hot drinks, toast and
three flowers.
"Good morning", she said cheerfully. She reacted to the initial silence
from the captives with the beginning of a glare. "Lost your tongues?" Quickly
the three kneeling women, humbly, responded, almost in unison.
"Good morning Mistress."
"That's better. Right, it's time for your morning workout. You ladies
drop and give me ten press-ups here at my feet, right up and down, backs will be
straight." She said sweetly.
Immediately, the three naked figures pumped up and down, finding the
last few a strain but given to quarter and made to do the whole ten.
"Right, jumping up and down, legs wide then together, arms clapping
above heads then by your sides. One minute - go."
Rose longed to use a toilet but instead had to jump around, hair, bare
breasts, arms and bladder bouncing. The need was a sharp pain inside her and
she was particularly grateful when, all panting, they were allowed to stop.
"Touch your toes ten times - go."
She inwardly groaned, gritting her teeth, she could feel the pressure of
her full bladder. Bend, stretch, up and down. the Oriental and German women
made sure they did each one correctly, or had them repeat it, no bending legs,
all the way down each time. The bitch allowed her hand to rest casually on
Rose's flexing bottom, cupping the taut cheeks.
Soon, the three nude captives were pink and panting now, but there was
no sign of the toilet bucket.
"Nice little work-out does you good," said the Oriental woman. " Forget
tee-shirts, now face down on beds please, I give you flower each to look pretty
girls."
With a gasp, Linda felt the stem of the flower pushed coldly, painfully
into her anus, the Oriental girl, twirled it around till she was satisfied with
the angle. Then on to the other captives till all three had a flower protruding
from them.
"Ah so, very pretty." She laughed. Even the harsh German woman was
smirking with the fun. "You stay like that and read these papers on the
founding of the Liberation Movement, have breakfast later. " She gave each
captive six large pages of papers extolling the Lib Front; it would take some
time to read. The women made to leave.
Rose began, "Please, please, Mistress, can I go toilet, I need to..."
Swiftly, the German woman bent down and slapped her face, making her
blink back tears of shame.
"Speak when spoken to." The Oriental woman made as if she was really
weighing matters up, deliberating, then, finally coming to a weighty decision.
"No, no I think not. A little self-control is good for the spirit. You
just lay there, all of you, no moving at all except to turn pages, no speaking,
remember the camera over there. Just concentrate on reading for awhile and we
see about breakfast and toilet later if you've done well with the reading. I'll
ask questions on the text. By the way, no need to stand when we come back in,
just lay there quietly."
The door clanged shut. The three friends glanced at each other with
pitiful looks. Linda nearly snapped. How could people treat others like this?
Her fists clenched, she would dearly loved to have hit and kicked out at her
captors. These women, monsters in human form, could calmly control every aspect
of their lives, forbidding them even basic necessities.
She nearly cried, seeing her two friends, naked just as she was, the
ridiculous flowers sticking obscenely out of their bottoms. Self-control
asserted itself again. She could do nothing. They were all totally in the
power of these monsters; her husband was somewhere close but equally helpless.
What might be happening to him? Stifling a sob she began to read the
boring text.
Rose clenched her stomach muscles to prevent her wetting herself and
tried to concentrate on the reading.
Ellen tried to block out everything; her need to go toilet, her fear,
her humiliation at lying naked like this. She just had to concentrate, exclude
that thought and read. She would have also liked a drink. It was just a few
feet away, gradually getting cold. Out of reach, forget it. Concentrate on the
Lib Front text.
Finally, after an hour in which they desperately clenched themselves in
the door banged open. Tantalisingly slowly the Oriental and German women made
themselves comfortable on chairs and began to ask their captives questions on
the papers. Rose had to knot her stomach to control her self. She struggled,
like the others to answer the endless questions. "What were the origins of the
Front? Their influences, power bases?" She felt like screaming but instead,
respectfully answered as best she could. Just a little schoolgirl again.
"I, think....... Mistress," the movement grew with ... etc. Each woman
struggled to cope with the details of something which 24 hours ago was only a
vague reference in the news.
At last, the Oriental woman brought in the toilet bucket. Then, a
torture on a torture the captives, still lying naked on their beds had to drink
the now cold tea, irrespective of whether they liked or wanted it. Then the now
equally cold toast. They had to consume everything. Looking pointedly, mockingly
at Rose, knowing her need, the German woman firstly asked Linda to use the
toilet. Rose nearly cried, her teeth were clenched, inwardly begging Linda not
to delay.
As with the previous evening, the captives had to look their guards
directly in the eyes, as they urinated, no looking away in shame. This delayed
Linda.
Then Ellen's turn. She too could not manage anything right away.
Bliss. It was Rose's turn and she practically ran to the bucket,
starting to squirt immediately. The Oriental woman, walked up to her, lifting
her head by her blonde tresses so she had to stare into her eyes from just a few
inches away.
"My, you did want to go badly, what a smell, what a noise. Be sure to
wipe yourself properly." Rose was crimson with shame but at least had one less
tension.
The men, Martin and Patrick, in an adjoining cell had received similar
treatment. They had the additional torment of the Negro making pointed comments
about the captive women, their wives. How they were stark naked just a few feet
away, available should anyone wish to make use of them, how the terrorist leader
had examined them and so on. Martin's need to use the lavatory had overcome his
ability to hold back and, whilst having to read his literature, lying naked on
the bed with the flower from his bottom, he had to scuttle into a corner of the
cell and urinate.
For that, they took Martin naked into a hall with most of the terrorists
gathered and one of the Oriental woman made him touch his toes. The woman gave
him six with the cane till he actually cried. Neither man was allowed any
further food or water that day as a punishment.
Linda, Rose and Ellen were told it was time for PT. They were allowed
to pull on their tee shirts. Then came the ritual whenever they left the cell,
of having their wrists cuffed behind them and being blindfolded. Hands on their
arms, guiding them stumbling along, helpless as babies, to the gym where the
cuffs and blindfolds were removed. They were handed over to a muscle-bound Arab
man and Negress wearing only tiny outfits; they had magnificent oiled bodies.
All three captives may have considered flirting, or even having a fling
with the handsome Arab under other circumstances, but here it was just an added
humiliation to have him see them in these circumstances. The terrorists told
their captive audience they would put them through their paces. Next came the
humiliating stripping ritual again. The Negress immediately laid into them.
"Get that s__t off now. I want to see it all hang out, all you've got.
I want you f___ing naked," she bellowed. She had them stand hands on head in a
nude, shivering line as she inspected them. Sneering, poking, prodding. "Fat
arse, belly too big. We'll get you into shape."
The Arab and Negress had them lifting, running, bending, straining,
breasts and buttocks jiggling.
"Haaargghh, please, "Rose screamed, clutching a red line of pain on her
bottom, as the Negress used a whippy canes on her.
Indeed the canes lashed down across their shining flesh, more used to
gentle caresses, whenever they thought the women were employing insufficient
effort. Linda was slippery with sweat, her fair hair plastered over her head.
The Arab was right behind her as she bent over with spread legs to touch her
toes for the umpteenth time. She could sense the heat of him there his strength,
then came his booming voice.
"No, not like that, like this. " Linda felt his pouch against her hot
bare buttocks, the huge manhood nestling there, almost leaping out to sink
between the cleft of her buttocks. Now his front was pressed tight against her
back and buttocks, bending over with her guiding her. One hand now holding a
breast, the nipple erect. In spite of her predicament she almost felt, totally
illogically, the stirrings of lust.The Arab laughed.
"You're hot for it I reckon girl. Not now, maybe later if you're good."
Oh the shame of it, Linda went crimson as she continued to bend and
stretch.
There was no respite. The Arab decided that Ellen's press-ups would
improve if he lay on his back and Ellen pumped up and down over him. Up and
down. Ellen raised and lowered her nude body above that of the muscled Arab.
He made her drop flat till her bare breasts were squashed against his oiled,
muscled chest, her groin down onto the large bulge of his barely concealed
manhood. Holding it there, almost enjoying it relishing the feel of his
maleness while he ensured her back was straight by running a finger down her
spine then ordering her to raise again, before lowering.
The Arab 'assisted' Rose doing her knee bends by lying on his back and
having her raise and lower her haunches over his face. She had to do it. Ignore
her womanhood totally open, thighs splayed, lowering on his face. Was that his
lips brushing her? It set a tingle through her and she involuntarily shuddered.
Then she had to push and rise up again holding the dumbbells. The Arab took a
break, sitting back, sipping a cool drink watching with amusement. There was
nothing for the tired captives, their nude curves glistening with sweat, no
drink or break. The Negress simply took the lead. She had them running on the
spot, bare breasts and buttocks bouncing wildly.
"OK you slags, I wanna see some real sweat. You cannot suck up to me.
I saw the way you tarts, you slags, acted. Faster, lift those f___ing legs
higher."
All three had the shame and pain from collecting several more tiny red
whippy marks across breasts or thighs or buttocks, from the cane before,
exhausted, hot, sweaty and panting it was finished some two hours later.
"Showers", shouted the Negress clapping her hands. She opened a door to
a shower room and made them run through an ice-cold torrent till they shivered
with cold, yelping and gasping with the shock. They were allowed to briefly
towel dry then the ritual of being blindfolded, wrists cuffed behind them and,
again like babies, being led helplessly and sightlessly back to their cell.
After a short respite, the cell door opened. After the ritual of
stripping off the tee shirt, kneeling naked and reciting their names and numbers
they were given a lunch of milk and fruit.
Although their physical exertions and sweat lost had alleviated any
pressing need to empty their bladders, Linda and Rose had the beginning of a
need now to empty their bowels, but after the performance in the morning they
daren't ask.
After lunch and the stripping, kneeling ritual, the guards brought no
bucket, only notebooks and papers. Each captive was ordered to write a five
thousand-word essay on why they liked the Liberation Front. Having to ignore
the needs of their stomachs and bowels, the captives spent several hours reading
and writing, in total silence as instructed.
At evening time kneeling naked, having recited their names and numbers
the captives saw a glass of water and a hunk of dry bread each but also the
beloved bucket.
Firstly though, Ellen, Rose and Linda had to eat their bread and drink
the water, sitting on their beds whilst the two guards read through the essays
they had written.
Linda tried to hold her stomach in, stop it making noises as she sat
quietly, hands on head legs wide apart - as they had all been instructed when
they had finished eating. The guards seemed in no hurry to finish reading the
essays. Commenting here and there, asking an occasional question.
"Right, these will be marked tonight and you will correct them tomorrow.
Hughes first on the bucket," the guards finally allowed.
The monsters always seemed to know who really needed the toilet, then
left them to wait.
Ellen squatted, urinated, maintaining the ritual of looking the guards
in the eyes, but had yet no need to empty her bowels.
Then came an agonising wait, no one using the bucket, both Rose and
Linda looking at it longingly.
"Western"
Linda was there, over the bucket, her face starting to flush with the
strain of the first bowel movement.
"Keep looking at me Western, but I also want you to continuously repeat
your name and prisoner number. Start."
It was yet another humiliation. Linda repeated the words continuously,
the guards laughing when her flow of words was slowed or interrupted by the
strain of each bowel movement. The guards joked about the noise and smell.
Then it was Rose's turn and she had to similarly look at her guards and
talk to them as she emptied her bowels. The Negress stroked her tousled blonde
hair, and her shining face as she sat close to the blonde, looking curiously,
amused, into her eyes as she strained over the bucket.
Finally their second night had arrived. Again, none of the women slept
much such was there fear and uncertainly.
---------
Time passed, days passed, an endless carnival of pain and shame.
Rose awoke. It must be another morning. How long had she been here? It
seemed to have been forever. Her home and husband seemed to have been in
another existence. Each day had its horrors but they flowed into one nightmare.
Ellen, Rose and Linda were all awake that morning, unable to put the events
fully out of their minds. In addition to their physical exertions they had to
work every day on essays, correcting, being forced to see things from the
terrorists angle. Being forced to sympathise with their aims even though the
terrorists were at the same time abusing them.
A 'break' from the routine came during workouts in the gym. The brute
of an Arab had had each of the female captives on separate days when the Negress
had 'conveniently' been out of sight but just as 'conveniently' returned to
catch them and accuse the women of seducing the Arab.
Linda had been hot moist and sweating, in a crab position the Arab had
forced her to hold, legs splayed wide apart. Looking down on her, encouraging
her, she then saw he no longer had his pouch. Saw his huge erection, she had
caught her breath.
His huge hands were sliding over her soaking body, up her thighs,
squeezing her breasts. Over and into her womanhood, finding her essence. Her
hips had involuntarily pumped and he had laid on top and slowly thrust into her,
filling her.
Lying, panting on the floor as the Arab worked over her, beginning to
co-operate, Linda had to her horror seen the leering face of the Negress looking
down at her in scorn. Calling her a slut and a tart afterwards, slapping her
face and body as she stood meekly hands on head, totally shaming her.
Rose had been touching her toes when she felt the Arab's huge erection
pushing between the cheeks of her buttocks, his fingers first seeking her out.
Leaving her no way out she wriggled and writhed with involuntary and sudden
lust.
"Oh,mm," he had entered and filled her so totally, pulsing within her,
her hips began jerking with his in rhythm. Although it was rape, it was at
least more natural than a woman's touch and better than pain. That she was
doing it in public and not with her husband were factors she over which she no
longer had any control. Then the Negress again came on the scene with her scorn
and venom, heaped on more humiliation. She had to touch her toes like a
schoolgirl to be spitefully caned, naked before them all.
Swack!
"Haghh," Rose yelped as the cane bit deeply into her taut flesh like a
hot band of wire.
Again and again it lashed her whilst she strove to remain obediently
bent over, tears trickling from her eyes onto her bare feet. It was unbelievably
painful and shaming, and scarcely less so to then be comforted like a little
g8rl, a black arm holding her bare, heaving shoulders.
Ellen was doing knee bends when he slid, naked beneath her, impaling
her, holding her by her breasts and guiding her up and down, then she too faced
the wrath of the Negress.
----------
On another endless day the captives were told that someone they knew
wanted to look them over. They were told that this person wanted to give them a
thorough inspection but that they must be sightless because if they recognised
the person they would have to be executed.
Rose, Ellen and Linda stood naked against a wall. Blindfolded with hands
clasped behind their necks. They heard one of the Negresses talking to someone,
bringing them in. Rose, naked, blushed to her roots. Who was it looking at her?
Was it a man, a woman? Who were they? She heard the Negress invite the person
to give the captives "a good going over, be thorough." Rose still cringed at
the feeling of those hot sweaty hands travelling all over her body. Into her,
as the Negress asked if she was "juicy."
There wee just grunts from the mysterious person. Turning her this way
and that, prodding probing so obscenely and with total possession. Then having
to stand there behind her blindfold in darkness, as the ritual was repeated with
her two friends. If they ever got out of here, would they ever meet this person
in their normal life? They would forever wonder at any odd comment. Their
blindfolds prevented the trembling women from seeing just another guard adding
to their uncertainty and shame during his examination.
Most recently there was an evening disco in the terrorists headquarters.
The three female captives were taken there bound and blindfold in their tee
shirts. It was a woman only, lesbian affair.
As soon as Ellen, Linda and Rose had their bonds removed amid the
crashing noise and flashing lights they were "picked-up" by butch women. They
were given no drinks but they had to dance with the women.
It was so humiliating for respectable, heterosexual women such as
themselves to be treated this way. They were told that they had to play the
part of enjoying themselves, to pretend they were girls on the make continually
smile no matter how much they wanted to scream and shout, push away the
marauding hands, slap out. If they acted miserably it would spoil the evening
for the guests and the captives would be punished.
Rose shuddered as strong female arms slid around her. Hands stroked
down over her back over the thin covering of her tee shirt, lifting it slightly.
They clasped and stroked patted her bare buttocks beneath. They gripped her
cheeks, reminding her of her husband if they were at a dance. But here, the
hands were female and they gripped her bare flexing bottom obscenely,
shamefully, publicly.
They all had to act exactly as if they were willingly at a normal dance
and they were unattached women. Instead of men dancing with them, stroking
lightly over down their backs, shoulders, their best frocks and dresses,
flirting maybe, they were faced with hard-faced lesbians, and the captives were
naked under short, thin tee shirts. Sickening.
Rose forced herself to endure yet another mouth crushing hers, tongue
intruding sickeningly as a rough hand grasped the mound of her breasts jiggling
through her tee-shirt. A leg pressed obscenely between her thighs, pressing up
into her soft sex lips, whilst hands on her bottom cheeks ensured she has ground
her hips against the woman. It was shameful and sickening.
Then there was a Karaoke session. The three captives were made to
perform. None could sing as each was alone on the stage, doing their best, in
whispered voices, the audience of now drunken women jeered.
"Get em off". It was a play on words because the audience insisted on
them removing the tee shirts and continue singing in the nude
Each captive was crying, sobs of shame as they attempted to continue,
naked and croaking. The women in the audience whistling and jeered,
"Come on darlin', shake em, wiggle it"
Rose thought she would die as she jiggled her body before the hungry
eyes, bare breasts bouncing for the lustful amusement of her captors as she
attempted to sing in a weak, pitiful voice.
It was almost a relief to be dancing again when the disco restarted,
even though their tee shirts had vanished and they had to continue stark naked,
hands now freely travelling over their bodies.
Rose shuddered as course fingers slid unnaturally down the arch of her
spine to stroke her bottom, fingers delving horribly into the cleft, making her
wriggle uncomfortably. She had been crushed against the bodies of so many women
dancers their lips crushing down on hers as their strong arms held her tight.
"Ugh," she gasped as a finger curled unnaturally into the tight, rosebud
of her anus, filling her disgustingly. She willed herself to try to forget that
these were women, women who would have her killed no sooner than look at her,
women who despised her and her way of life. Instead, she told herself that these
were handsome men; impossible. These were drunk women, mouthing obscene, crude
comments, hands all over her, hands pushing her bare bottom writhing her nudity
against them. Her partner's leg between her own whispers in her ear told to
work up and down on the leg. A woman's fingers clenched on her buttock cheeks
leaving marks. A horrible, shameful situation but Rose had been told the
alternative of non-cop-operation.
A new dance, a new partner, just another. Then she realised it was the
terrorist leader. The imposing and strict woman had an aura about her. She
wasn't drunk like some of the others. The woman was more sensual and not just
groping. She kissed the pulse of her throat, stroked her hair before kissing
Rose gently full on the lips, cupping a breast, the treacherous nipple
hardening. Her captor's hips ground against Rose's, her hands went to her bare
bottom and pulled her against her, sighing. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Rose had
burst into tears. She was receiving the nearest thing to kindness since she had
been kidnapped - even though based on lust.
The terrorist leader had moved on to Linda. She was dancing with Linda,
her hands on the cheeks of Linda's bare bottom, kissing her deeply on the mouth.
Then on to Ellen, pressing her chest against Ellen's largish bare breasts. The
rubbing against the material made Ellen's nipples erect and the woman bent
forward to tickle Ellen's nipples with her tongue.
As the evening drew on all three naked captives ended up on the lap of a
woman, having to kiss and cuddle. Ellen found herself on the lap of an older
woman in her sixties, largish. She insisted that Ellen place her arms round her
neck and return the kisses, she felt the older woman's hands gliding up and down
her spine, patting her bare bottom.
Ellen, Linda and Rose could not know that Martin and Patrick, were
sitting handcuffed and gagged in an adjoining room having to watch everything on
a video camera.
Eventually, the women captives had been trussed up and blindfolded again
and led by the drunken, laughing women, back to their cell, banging bare shins
on the way as the women stumbled uncaringly with their helpless captives; there
they were awaited by the terrorist leader. When their blindfolds and cuffs were
removed Linda, Rose and Ellen were amazed to see the leader, lying naked on a
bed, with a large black dildo strapped in place.
Rose told herself it was the pressure of the harsh circumstances and the
contrast with the softness of the woman that made her co-operate. She knew the
penalties for not doing so but nevertheless threw herself into the welcoming
arms with almost gusto. She gasped as she impaled herself as instructed on the
cold rubber, it felt so unnatural at first but then the woman's arms were around
her, cupping her flexing buttocks, guiding her, and she was writhing on top of
her returning her kisses with a shameless passion until she climaxed.
For over an hour the woman had made love to each of her female captives,
bringing each one to a shameful orgasm before the others. Again, the two male
captives were forced to look on via the video.
The captive's review of their kidnap ordeal was brought to an abrupt end
with the cell door banging open. Linda, Ellen and Rose went to assume their
naked kneeling position but were instead hustled immediately out of the room,
fear filling them. However, the terrorist leader told them that, unexpectedly,
the Government had deported the other gang members and that they were closing up
their UK operation to be with them. With no more explanation, all five captives
were trussed, gagged and blindfolded and dumped naked where they would be soon
be found!
However, Rose and the others would never forget their ordeal, often
wondering who might now be looking at and enjoying the videos made of their
enslavement. But they too had changed. She would often unconsciously sink to
her knees, hands on heads thighs wide naked before her husband, silently begging
him to dominate her
THE END
MARTIN HUGHES
