“Ah,” Miss Nolan nodded, still looking up at Felicia’s face, still swathed in the light gray headdress. “Well, I suppose that she can’t bite her tongue then, so it’s all to the good. Simon, you may begin.”
Something wide and flat and hard smacked lightly against Felicia’s ass. It didn’t sting particularly, but as apprehensive and tensed-up as Felicia was it made her jerk and squeal anyway.
“Oh, quite promising!” Miss Nolan exclaimed. A moment later Felicia felt the other woman’s hand groping between her legs.
“I like where you put these rings,” Miss Nolan called back to the sheik. “Does she wear them all of the time?”
“Only for special occasions,” the sheik replied with a chuckle.
“Well, then,” Miss Nolan smiled warmly up at Felicia. “Let’s see how special we can make the evening, shall we? Simon, again, if you would. A bit harder this time.”
The smack on her ass was hard enough to sting. Felicia jerked and grunted, distracted by what Miss Nolan’s fingers were doing at and in her pussy.
“She doesn’t seem to enjoy what you’re doing particularly,” the woman commented.
”Well, no matter. Fire at will, dear Simon. I’ll hold up my end.” She moved off to one side. Before she came back, Simon had delivered several irregularly timed blows to Felicia’s ass. Each one made her jerk and grunt.
“Lovely round ass,” Felicia heard Simon comment. “I’m sure if she’d just relax it a bit it would jiggle nicely.” He struck her with the paddle again, very lightly.
“We’ll see, dear,” Miss Nolan replied as she moved back in front of Felicia. “Now hold off for a moment while I get her in the mood.”
Something round and hard was pressed up between Felicia’s pussy lips. Felicia heard a click and suddenly the round, hard thing was vibrating. She bit down hard on the ball gag and tried not to move. Reacting to pain was one thing. Reacting to enforced pleasure, in front of an audience, was another thing entirely. She didn’t want to give the people watching the satisfaction.
But it was a futile attempt right from the start. As long as she might be able to hold out, she couldn’t go anywhere or even change position. Miss Nolan, on the other hand, had all the time in the world, a great deal of patience, and some formidable skills. Early on, she applied the head of the vibrator to Felicia’s labial rings. The effect was almost painful to Felicia, but there was nothing she could do about it. And just when she didn’t think she could stand it for another second, Miss Nolan shifted the vibrator upwards, forcing it deeper into Felicia’s pussy and up against her clit.
Felicia shrieked. Her body arched tautly, straining against the chains that held her. She shook violently. “Oh, my!” she heard a man exclaim. “Look how those luscious big tits jiggle!” If she had been able, she would have snarled at him, but then Simon began spanking her with the paddle again. The blows were not very hard, but they were terribly distracting. Felicia made one more effort to get herself under control, almost immediately realized the utter uselessness of that effort, and finally gave up just as the vibrating friction against her clit became too much. She jerked again, convulsively, once, twice, three times, squealing loudly as she came. Miss Nolan held the vibrator in place for a moment longer, closely watching Felicia’s feeble tremblings and listening to her muffled whimpers. Then she switched off the vibrator and removed it. Felicia sagged in her chains, groaning.
“Well, that was quite a performance,” Miss Nolan said. “I would dearly love to have this girl for a week or so just to put her through her paces. Simon, you can stop paddling her now. I know how much you love a good spanking, but she needs a little time to recover so that she can properly appreciate your work.”
Felicia sobbed. When Miss Nolan thrust two fingers up into her, she barely had the strength to whine in irritation.
“My, she’s quite wet,” the woman observed. She removed her fingers and wiped them off across Felicia’s belly before turning to the audience. “I’m sure that any of you men would find her quite ready for you now.”
There was a brief, huddled discussion between the men, and then one of them stepped forward.
“I claim the fair maiden by right of my rank,” he said.
“Oh, dear, Gerald,” Miss Nolan sighed. “Are you really going there again? We all know that your grandfather bought that title.”
Gerald ignored her and came striding over to Felicia. She was still too drained from her forced orgasm to respond when he began squeezing her breasts.
“Can’t we see her face?” Gerald asked. “I’d like to see her face. I’d like to look into the bitch’s eyes while I’m fucking her and see how much she hates it.”
“Content yourself with what you have, my friend,” the sheik answered. Gerald shrugged and began sliding his hands slowly up and down Felicia’s flanks.
“I suppose I can bear it,” he said. Felicia heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled, then of a zipper being unzipped. Gerald’s hands settled on her hips. She felt him pull her towards him. She didn’t even try to fight. He fumbled around a bit and then she felt his cock sliding up into her, rubbing against the rings down there. He pushed his cock all the way in and then just held her tightly.
“Simon,” he called out.
“Yes?” The voice came from behind Felicia, so it had to be Simon.
“Give her fanny a little love tap, would you?”
Felicia tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling. Gerald’s face was close enough so that he might have been able to see her eyes through the gauze, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Then Simon struck. His ‘love tap’ struck with a painfully audible ‘smack!’ Felicia jerked, but didn’t cry out.
“Again, Simon, if you please,” Gerald asked. He tightened his grip on Felicia’s waist.
Simon’s next blow was on her other cheek, and it stung terribly. Felicia jerked again. This time she couldn’t help grunting in pain.
“Ooooh, lovely!” Gerald exclaimed. “Every time you do that her pussy just clamps itself around my cock. Keep going, my good man, while I royally fuck this bitch.”
Now Felicia made no attempt to keep still or quiet. Instead, she did everything she could to break Gerald’s rhythm and give him as little pleasure in fucking her as possible. She managed to annoy him enough for him to call for Simon to ‘really lay it on’. She couldn’t keep him from coming, though. Once he had emptied himself into her he stepped back and slapped her breasts hard before zipping up and stalking away.
“Can we possibly change her position?” Felicia heard a man ask.
“What did you have in mind, my friend?” the sheik asked.
“I’d like to keep those long legs spread just as they are, but bend her over something, if possible,” the man replied.
“I believe something can be arranged. It will take a few minutes, but it appears that she needs a little time to recover anyway. I did mention that she is conditioned. Her ass is quite available,” the sheik said.
“Yes, I know, but I don’t much fancy screwing a bird who’s standing up. I like ‘em bent over and spread wide.”
“We can accommodate you,” Ismail assured him. “I will have my slaves bring you all drinks while we wait.”
“Do you suppose…” the voice was Miss Nolan’s. ”Do you suppose that when we have her bent over I might whip those absolutely fabulous tits for a bit?”
“But of course!” the sheik’s reply was immediate. “But I would suggest that we remove her nipple rings first. You may do that now, if you like.”
“Oh, thank you, sheik Ismail!”
Felicia heard all this and tried to work up the energy to fight. She couldn’t. They would bend her over, as they wished, and fuck her up her ass, as they wished, and whip her tits, as they wished. There was nothing at all that she could do about it other than submit and hope that it didn’t hurt too much.
Chapter Fifteen
Ismail leaned back comfortably in his seat at the head of the long, wide table and regarded his guests. They were all clad so impeccably, and all had such exquisite manners that one could hardly believe that only last night they had been reduced to gang-raping and torturing his prized blonde slave girl. But that was often the way with people who had become too soft and comfortable. People always had darker impulses. In easy times, the rich ones found ample opportunities to sate those impulses. Now, they all sat at his table, ate his food and drank the wine that he provided for them. He could hear them discussing parties, horse racing, yachts, villas and acquaintances as if they were at home, and safe beyond any possible harm. It pleased him to make parts of his rambling estate resemble European homes he had visited, and it also pleased him to have European guests from time to time. He had thought it would be entertaining to have this group of them here and let them play with his newest slave, and he had been correct.
His gaze went back to that slave, who served as the centerpiece for the dinner. She did not appear to be at all comfortable, but she had said nothing about it. Nor was she likely to. A bright red ball gag was stuffed into her mouth and buckled tightly in place. A wide, padded leather blindfold concealed almost half of her face. And she was hogtied in a most interesting way. Miss Nolan had studied the art of Japanese
shibari
. She had been only too eager to bind the blonde slut for presentation. Ismail had to confess that she had done an excellent job.
Felicia concentrated on breathing. She had to. The ropes and her position made it difficult, and there really wasn’t anything else that she could do, except listen to the dinner conversation as it flowed around her, and she really didn’t want to do that. Too much of it had her as the subject, and many of the things she heard made her feel shame or nausea or both.
She was naked, lying on her belly on something hard and metallic. Tough ropes circled her arms and torso tightly just above and just below her breasts, compressing them and making them almost hard. Her wrists were also bound behind her, but not as tightly. She might actually have been able to free them if the other ropes weren’t holding her upper arms so tightly to her body. On top of that, her bound wrists were tethered to the ropes around her body, which kept them up in the small of her back. Her legs were each doubled and bound calf to thigh. She couldn’t see, but she could feel that her ankles were tethered loosely together while something kept her knees spread well apart. The ball gag prevented her from doing anything but making unintelligible noises and the thick leather blindfold kept her from seeing anything at all. Worse yet, there was something very hard and pointy under her chin. She had to keep her head up or it would prick her painfully. At first, that hadn’t been too hard, but as time went on her neck muscles were beginning to ache.
Adding to her discomfort was the fact that they had left her nipple rings in place. Now, with her breasts, still sore from last night, mashed up against whatever the hard metallic surface was, they were irritating. Her belly ring was not so much of a problem. But her labial rings were still in place, and the way her legs were spread she knew that anyone who cared to could have a look at them.
She had thought that last night had been the most humiliating and degrading, not to say painful, experience she had ever been forced to suffer. Being gang-raped by her master’s thugs had been terrible. Being gang-raped by the sort of wealthy, cultured people whose company she had become accustomed to back when she was free was somehow much, much worse. Her master’s thugs had made plenty of jeering, taunting, gloating comments as they had watched her use and degradation. It had been humiliating, but at least she hadn’t understood any of the words. Last night, they had all spoken in English, some of it in unmistakable upper-class accents, and she had understood every vile, nasty word of it. They had called her a slut, a cunt, a slave and a whore. They had marveled over the size and shape and youthful firmness of her breasts, even as they were mauling them with their hands or whipping them just enough for it to sting. They had made crude comments about her pussy, covering its pleasing appearance and even more pleasing tightness. One of the men, who had fucked her conventionally for a few moments before ramming his cock up her ass, had pronounced her equally tight in both holes. They had also commented on her hips, and legs, and waist, and anything else that came to their minds. Long before the ordeal was over, Felicia felt herself burning with shame and anger at how they were treating her. To them, she was just an animal, an attractive piece of fuckable, whippable meat, there for their use and pleasure. Now she was the centerpiece for their dinner party.
“Sheik Ismail,” Felicia heard the one called ‘Miss Nolan’ say, “Please, tell me, where did you get this delectable blonde specimen? We have yet to see all of her face, and to be honest, we know that she can grunt and whine and scream, even when gagged, but we do not know if she can actually speak. There was some speculation that… ah… something might have been done to her tongue.”
The sheik merely laughed. “I can understand your curiosity,” he said easily. “Rest assured that nothing has been removed from that lovely body except its freedom. And as for the rest, is it not well to maintain some small air of mystery about her? Would she be any more enjoyable to play with if you knew her name, or what language she might speak?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Miss Nolan replied after a moment. “It is probably just force of habit that makes us want to put names to everything. But, since she seems to be an authentic blonde after all, I was wondering what color her eyes were.”
“They are blue,” the sheik answered. “A lovely, innocent blue.”
“Innocent?” Miss Nolan laughed. “Certainly not, not after you have put her through her training.”
“There are different types and levels of innocence,” the sheik said. “She was not innocent at all about men and sex, or some of the ways of the world. But as for how she may be punished or tortured, or how abjectly she can be made to beg for that abuse, she is still quite, quite innocent.”
Felicia trembled as she heard Miss Nolan laugh at her master’s comment. She remembered how she had begged Abou that night, and how she had talked about the size of his cock to help her to convince him to unlock her labial rings before he fucked her. It had been humiliating almost beyond endurance. She still wasn’t sure if it had been truly necessary. But she had done it, and she hated remembering the episode. Now she wondered if she was to be made to beg in front of these corrupt and evil people. She probably would be. She knew she would do it, too, and she loathed herself for her weakness. But how much pain, how much discomfort, could she be expected to endure? How long before she broke completely?