Slaver's Dozen (The Klitzman Stories) Read online

  The tall, bulky black man stood before her, his face inches away from hers. His hand descended down her side, over her graceful, naked hip, and down to the fulcrum of her widespread thighs. Carol stiffened as she felt the man seize her sex, something no one had ever done. She felt his thick finger trace a line between her distended nether lips, ending atop her little bud of pleasure. Afraid to even look at her assailant, Carol jammed her eyes closed. As the finger pressed itself into the crevasse of her sex, she felt an unwelcome tingling in her loins.

  Carol knew about the pleasures that her honey pot could bring her. She had read the books, heard her friends talk, had even dared to stroke herself, just a little, until a warmth spread from her innocent sex outward and throughout her body. But she had always stopped short of any extended passion. It was wrong to pleasure herself, just as wrong as it would be to have her boyfriend stroke her there. Only holy matrimony and the demands of procreation could excuse or justify the coaxing out of otherwise illicit passions. And now this man, this huge, cruel, callous man had seized her sex and was drawing from her what she had always denied herself.

  As the tender cunt began to drip with the evidence of Carol’s increasing excitement, Rukimo let his fingers probe deeper into the softening hole. He met a fleshy barrier there, evidence of the girl’s sexual innocence. He had known, of course. She had been selected weeks ago based on her medical exam and her almost child like visage. Her face was round, with a tiny, pert nose and narrow, pale lips. Her eyes were deep brown, matching her shiny, long, chestnut hair. They were large and clear, giving her a doe-like appearance. The girl’s eyelids trembled as she tried to suppress any sign of the outside world, emphasizing the tender vulnerability that had sealed her individual fate. The others were destined for whatever role in the vast resort their masters chose for them, after suitable training, that is. But Carol’s fate was special, and not one to be preferred.

  When Carol finally moaned with incipient pleasure, Rukimo smiled and abandoned his invasion of her private place. One of the bags had been left in the room and Rukimo went over to it and removed a slave collar and a four foot long leash. He crept behind the girl and, after lifting and pushing aside the long, silky hair, snapped the collar around her neck. Her body shivered as she felt it clamped shut. Rukimo brought his lips close to Carol’s ear and whispered into it, “We’re going for a little walk, pretty girl. Keep your hands behind your head and follow me.” He attached the leash to the front of the collar and gave it a little tug. Carol pitched forwards and ruefully followed.

  She was led out of the same door that her friends had left. There was no sign of them in the corridor. Carol had little opportunity to observe the stark white walls or the plush red rug as she hurried to keep up with the large man’s pace. The hallway led to a steel door at which Rukimo pressed a buzzer and waited. A black face peered through a small window, nodded, and Carol heard a heavy bolt drawn open. She was pulled through the doorway and down another hall. At the end, a black guard sat at a large desk bedecked with television monitors. There was an elevator, and when Rukimo caused the door to open, Carol was drawn inside.

  Carol could see her reflection in the plain, polished steel walls of the elevator. She flinched at her nakedness, the lasciviousness of her pose. Tears came to her eyes as she felt the elevator lurch upwards. After a short ride, the doors opened and she was dragged out.

  What Carol saw stupefied and amazed her. She was led into bright, hot daylight, past a large, black sentry and down a brick walkway. There were low level, whitewashed buildings all around and people, men mostly, walking here and there, dressed in either blue or brown robes similar to Rukimo’s. Most astounding of all were the naked women, some at the end of chains like hers, others jogging quickly along the paths, their hands bound behind them, their bodies naked, their mouths hidden behind heavy, leather shields. Were they prisoners like her, Carol wondered. Would she soon be running naked and bound, her mouth hideously gagged, hurrying to God knows what destination?

  The men ogled her as they passed by, nodding recognition to her captor. Rukimo strolled purposefully over the narrow walkways, certain of his goal. The young girl blushed with shame as her bare breasts bounced and jiggled, put in motion by the rapid pace. Her hands were glued together behind her head as if cemented there, bound by invisible threads of fear. She had no desire to provoke this cruel giant who led her obscenely displayed body past the staring men and oblivious women. She sensed the cruelty inherent in the man and desired desperately to avoid it.

  They finally reached a gated compound. A black robed guard opened the gate and allowed the pair through. The walkway turned to polished, multicolored flagstones and led to a pair of heavy carved wooden doors. As she stood, waiting for the door to open, Carol saw the obscene designs etched into the dark brown wood. Men fucking women, women sucking off men, threesomes, foursomes, women fucking women, and, liberally intermingled with the displays of sexual debauchery, carved images of women being whipped and tortured, their mouths stretched into grimaces of pain. What was beyond this door, Carol wondered fearfully. Was what was displayed a precursor of her own fate? “Oh, God,” she pleaded to herself, “please don’t let it be true!”

  The heavy doors opened and Carol followed her captor’s lead inside. The floors of the anteroom were smooth, brightly polished, green and black marble. The walls were a stark white. As she entered the hallway beyond the foyer, Carol observed the large, obscene paintings and prints displayed there. She shivered with fear as she was led down the hall to a teak paneled archway. The archway opened to a large, expansive room, marble floored like the hallway, and bedecked with flowing, lavender pastel curtains along the walls.

  Sitting in the middle of the room, centered on a large, overstuffed, pale green couch was the largest man she had ever seen. He had heavy, loose jowls, a broad, flabby chest, thick, round arms and legs. He was dressed in a blood red robe with bright gold threads woven into it, drawn taut across his huge belly, but revealing a thick, hairy chest, matted with the effluvia of his most recent repast. His hair was short and grey, and he had a slovenly face, large, loose lips, a broad, heavy nose. His eyes seemed black, sunk deep into his face. His head was large, an appropriate match for his elephantine frame.

  Surrounding the man, and strewn around the room were perhaps a dozen young, beautiful women. They were naked but for short, sheer black skirts that veiled, but hid nothing. One woman lay on either side of the man on the couch, on their backs, their legs splayed wide open, their sexes presented to the man’s pleasure. He had a meaty hand on the belly of the one on his left, a large thumb implanted into the woman’s cleft. On his right, a large silver tray sat on that woman’s belly, filled with small dishes containing sweets and delicacies. The man’s left hand was in the process of drawing a succulent morsel to his greedy mouth.

  Other than the two women who lay on their backs beside the mammoth man, and two women on their knees between his legs, working their lips and hands over his ample genitalia, the rest of the women knelt in a sort of semi-circle before the man, their heads touching the floor before them, their hands palms up behind their backs. Angry red stripes adorned their proffered back sides and their bare backs. Three black robed guards sporting the ominous black batons stood at attention along the walls.

  The mountain of a man spoke. “Ah, Rukimo, a delight to see you,” he said. The man’s voice was deep and guttural, almost as if his throat was filled with viscous liquid and the words were forced to bubble out. “I see you have brought me a present.”

  Rukimo brought the naked girl to a halt about three feet from the obese man. She was overwhelmed by what she saw. Never in her life would she have imagined that such a scene could be real. She had read of Arab princes and their harems, oriental despots with their armies of concubines. But she had not considered anything like them to exist in the real world. But here it was, right before her. And she was being presented to him like a newly acquired pet for his approval and delight.
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  “Yes, Mr. Klitzman,” Rukimo replied. “One of the new girls, the one you picked out. The others are being processed as we speak.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful,” the huge man replied. Rukimo, no slouch himself, seemed diminished when compared to this man who he called ‘Klitzman’. “Bring her closer,” he said. “Let me feel her tits.”

  Carol gave out a high pitched whine at the thought of this ugly, horrid man, manhandling her precious breasts. The women at his feet parted as she was shoved forwards. “Here, on my lap,” the man commanded. His gluttonous eyes shined as he reached out for Carol’s body. Rukimo handed him the leash and he pulled the girl close to him and pulled her up on his broad right knee. Carol, her hands still locked behind her head, started to cry all over again. Her mind cringed at the thoughts of being ravished by this ravenous beast. She looked at Rukimo desperately. “Oh please don’t leave me here,” she sent to him mentally. “Please, oh please don’t leave me here!”

  Rukimo observed the girl’s obvious distress. It meant nothing to him. She was just a thing to be played with, to be used, and it mattered not a whit to him how or by whom she was possessed. It was sufficient that his lord, Klitzman, was pleased.

  “I will leave you to your fun, Mr. Klitzman. Nicholai will be here shortly. He’s organizing the disposition of the plane.”

  Klitzman had his arm wrapped around Carol’s waist, pulling her up against his soft, fleshy body. “Good, good. I want to congratulate him. A pretty penny, a pretty penny.”

  “As you say, Mr. Klitzman,” Rukimo replied. “I’ll be back later.” He gave a short bow to his master and retreated from the room.

  Carol was softly sobbing as she anticipated the fat man’s abuse. What had she ever done to deserve this, she thought abjectly. What sin had she committed?

  “Let me see those pretty tits, cunt,” Klitzman told the despondent girl as he pulled her torso backwards. Her breasts lay exposed to his view, the small tender nipples taut and hard with fear. Klitzman massaged the pair of soft white orbs with his free hand. He squeezed them like ripened fruit, measuring their succulence. Carol turned red with shame at the handling of her breasts. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She felt the man’s large, drooling lips descend onto her left breast and seize her hard nipple, sucking her breast into his mouth. He sucked long and hard, pulling the top third of her breast into his mouth, while his hand pinched and twisted the other nipple, causing Carol to moan with pain. The hand that had encircled her waist, grabbed her hair behind her head and Carol felt her face pulled towards her tormentor’s.

  A sour, wet mouth covered hers and a stiff, powerful tongue insinuated itself past her tense lips. Carol kept her teeth tightly clamped, dreading the invasion of her oral cavity by the man’s foul tongue. The hand on her right breast twisted and turned the nipple harshly, causing Carol to squirm with pain. “Open up!” the man demanded as he increased his torment of the tender breast. Carol cried out in pain and, as her mouth opened to release her exclamation, the man’s greasy tongue intruded, filling her mouth, thick drops of drool running over her chin and down to her chest.

  As the slimy tongue explored her mouth, pushing aside her tongue, slavering over her teeth and gums, Carol felt the man’s hand descend to her taut stomach, sliding down to her loins. She tried to protest, but her words were muffled by the heavy lips that covered her own. The hand pressed into the still moist, tight slit, running roughly against the walls of her canal. She felt a thumb and forefinger grab her tender clitoris and squeeze it hard. Pain shot through the girl like electricity. “Ohhhhhhhh!” she moaned into the mouth that covered hers. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Carol tried to press her legs together to squeeze out the hand that tormented her. Klitzman just squeezed harder on her clit, tugging and pulling at it while his tongue continued its callous exploration of the girl’s abject mouth. “Ohhhhhhhh!” Carol whined. “Please, don’t, please, please!” she tried to shout through her captive mouth.

  “Open your legs, slut,” Klitzman ordered, in an impatient, harsh voice, freeing her mouth from its debasement. “Open your legs or I’ll cut out your tongue,” he told her.

  Meekly, Carol drew her knees apart, praying that the man’s torment would stop. He thrust three fingers into her cunt, pressing against the flimsy wall that denoted the girl’s sexual innocence. “We’re going to get rid of this,” the man told her teasingly. “I’m going to pierce it with my prick, but first we’ve got to get you properly outfitted.” He unceremoniously pushed Carol to the floor. She landed on her hip, pain shooting through her.

  “Kneel there, slut,” Klitzman ordered. One of the guards brought over a large wicker basket with several compartments. He drew from it first a thin, round golden collar, with heavy rings on each side. The guard removed the leather collar that had adorned Carol briefly, and substituted the hard, cold, golden collar. One size fit all as there were several holes for a springed tab to fall into, depending on the width of the captive’s neck. Carol merited the third hole in.

  Once her neck was imprisoned in her gaudy adornment, Golden bracelets were affixed to her wrists and ankles. Carol accepted the confinements on her body resignedly. What was the use of struggle? This man had the mastery of her and there was no prospect of being spared. She knew that she would soon know whether being raped was a fate worse than death.

  When she was properly adorned, Klitzman ordered the group of supine women kneeling before him to lock her hands behind her. “Get her ready for a good fucking,” he ordered them. “Loosen her up good. And you,” he pointed to an obsequious young female at his feet, “suck my cock till it’s good and hard.”

  Carol felt her hands locked behind her. Thick straps were hooked to rings in her ankle bracelets and wound around her thighs, tying them to her calves. Hands spread her knees open, mouths fastened on her breasts. Smooth, knowledgeable hands caressed her. A pretty face appeared before her and opened her mouth with her tongue, gently and soothingly caressing her inner mouth and lips.

  Carol began to feel her passion rising. She had steeled herself against pleasure when the women had seized hold of her, but gradually surrendered to her rising lust. She felt a mouth engulf her sex, a tongue tracing a hot line between her labial lips. At this, Carol moaned with sexual excitement. She had never felt anything as overwhelmingly pleasurable as the hot mouth that engulfed her moist, lush sex. She moaned again, deeper this time and louder, as the anonymous tongue pressed on her hardened clit, worrying it, enflaming it.

  Klitzman watched the seduction of the innocent girl with unrestrained lust. The expert mouth of the slave girl between his legs coaxed his well worn cock into a steel-like hardness. The girl knew not to let her master come, for that would spoil his game and certainly result in one or more painful beatings, or worse. But she was skilled at her trade and could sense just when to release the hot member from her lips and let the obese man’s lust subside.

  Satisfied that his victim was well enough prepared, Klitzman ordered the slave girls to deliver her to him. The girl between his legs withdrew and he leaned back on the couch pointing his sturdy, thick manhood straight up into the air. Carol felt herself being lifted from the ground by many hands. Hands had circled through her bound arms and over her shoulders. Other hands grabbed her pinioned thighs, her arms.

  As she was lifted up and presented to the fat man’s hard cock, Carol moaned and cried out. “Oh, God, not like this, please, please, don’t do this, please!” Her sacred vow to save herself for her marriage bed, to keep sanctified her precious virginity was about to be dashed upon the rock hard meat of this grotesque man. She watched the man’s lustful, leering face as she felt the tip of his cock pressed between her throbbing, blood filled lower lips. She moaned again as she felt the lips part and the meat begin to slide inside her.

  “No, no, no!” she cried. “Oh, God, no!” Hands pressed her torso down, soft, feminine hands, hands obedient to a cruel and heartless master. The cock began to press upon the thin
veil of flesh that barred full entry into her sheath. Suddenly, with one hard jolt, her body was forced down on the sturdy member that had entered her and it tore through the virginal membrane. “Ohhhhh!” Carol cried in pain and despair. “Ohhhhhh!”

  The fat man’s eyes rolled back into his head as he luxuriated in the hot, moist warmth of Carol’s sweet divide. His hands sought the willing slits of the women lying next to him, and pressed inwards, delighting in the softness and heat that their proffered cunts provided.

  The women who had seized Carol manipulated her torso up and down on Klitzman’s unrepentant cock. She felt the hard, thick meat pierce her loins again and again. Hands caressed her breasts, a mouth seized on hers, pressing a hot, firm tongue past her lips. A feminine hand descended down her belly to the nub of pleasure at the apex of her sex and began to caress it, driving her passion to a new height. The pain was gone now and replaced with an overwhelming need for climax. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Carol cried out as she felt the hot prick rub the length of her sheath, filling her, satisfying a need that she didn’t even know that she had had.

  Suddenly she felt the cock inside her begin to throb and pulse. Klitzman gave out a mighty moan, shoving his cock upwards, impaling the girl to the depths of her womb. As the hot fluid filled her, Carol felt her moment of crisis peak and, for the first time, felt the electrifying pulses of pleasure that her pussy could produce. She came with a loud shout, crying from both humiliation and pleasure. This evil man had brought her to a height of pleasure she had not known possible and yet he had despoiled her, tore away her innocence, reduced her to a servile sexual slave.

  When Klitzman’s lust was satisfied, he waved the women away, “Put her on her knees,” he instructed them. Carol was placed between the man’s open legs. He sat up and grabbed the back of Carol’s head by her hair. “Lick me clean, slut,” he told her, his voice harsh, the threat behind his words clear.