Kidnapped and Defiled Ch. 03

Lois Atkinson – one time Junior League young matron, educated at an exclusive East Coast private school, at some lost point in time socially prominent in her affluent suburb – stirred in her sleep. The pale light of dawn pierced the windows of the spacious sea cruiser where she lay, a pale slim shape, on a narrow mattress on the deck. Her head hurt vaguely, a result of the previous day's constant sipping of vodka. But she needed that, she told herself, to dull the indignities and sexual humiliation to which her companions subjected her throughout each day and night.

As her consciousness surfaced and she turned onto her back, she was made aware that her soft buttocks still carried the smart from where, two days earlier, Fancha had handcuffed her slender wrists to a staple high on a post, and thoroughly whipped her white ass with a lithe cane for a perceived lack of enthusiasm in her duties; which in this instance involved repeatedly licking and sucking the Haitian's plump labia and puckered asshole until she came. Sobbing and struggling helplessly, she was desperate for the excruciating punishment to stop, and once freed, willingly performed her task, to Fancha's considerable satisfaction.

As she sat up, the stinging emanating from the soft flesh of her bottom was joined by a dull ache in her tender rectum. Junior Allen – her smiling, powerful, sinister captor – had taken her in the rear early on, and her anal orifice was his preferred point of entry. Evidently he enjoyed the shocked and shameful reaction provoked in his victim by this outrageous form of incursion; Lois had never imagined such an activity existed, let alone that she would be repeatedly subjected to it; her husband had never expressed more than a cursory interest in things sexual.

Her ass had adapted to a degree to the thrusting presence of Junior Allen's engorged member, and she no longer experienced the sharp anal pain of the first few assaults. However, he seemed to savor a degree of pain in his partner, and aggressively ploughed her till she was crying in discomfort and humiliation. Now, she feared, her anus was stretched permanently open, and she flinched at the thought of the contents of her bowels leaking through the gaping entrance; a fear enhanced by feeling the trickle of come that was the residue of Junior's last incursion.

Her daily routine was now more or less established. Upon awakening, Junior Allen would roughly take her in her mouth, obliging her to suck him until he came, which he did with great vigor, holding her ears tightly so that the hot spurts hit the back of her soft throat. She had become better at controlling her gag reflex, and could now take him deep; still, he enjoyed thrusting into her as far as possible and watching with keen enjoyment as she struggled to swallow his copious emissions without choking.

Once or twice he had placed her on her back on the counter, draped her legs over his shoulders and fucked her pussy, studying her expressions as he moved back and forth. But he appeared to derive greater satisfaction from inflicting the humiliation of oral and anal entry; and she was always obliged to lick him clean afterwards, a particularly distasteful activity when he had been in her ass. Apart from an old man's shirt worn open, she was always naked, her rear and front on display to her captors.

Throughout the hours she cleaned and cooked. In the course of the long day Junior Allen would usually seize her dark, soft hair at least once and force her to her knees to suck and swallow. When he was done with her, it was Fancha's turn. Sometimes in private, sometimes in front of Junior Allen, Lois would be obliged to serve the Haitian harlot's whims, pressing her pale, shocked face into the innermost recesses of Fancha's pussy and asshole to lick and suck her with her pretty pointed tongue. As evening came, Junior and Fancha would confer about Lois' behavior that day. Had she been utterly compliant? Had she shown enthusiasm? Was she acquiring skill in performing her appointed tasks? Invariably there was a reproof, resulting in the girl, pleading and protesting, being placed in the handcuffs high on the cabin post.

Stretched on tiptoe, she looked fearfully over her shoulder as Fancha – the appointed agent of punishment – fetched either the lithe cane or (if Lois' transgressions were not so very severe) a short whip. She was a mistress of slow, deliberate punishment, judging finely the moment when the pain from one stripe had started to recede, which called for a new infliction. Her aim was also excellent, allowing her (if she chose) to lay one stripe directly on top of another, to Lois' agonized consternation. The instrument of pain selected, Fancha then gleefully chastised Lois' squirming delicate buttocks, white thighs, and lower back – occasionally the girl's small breasts and flat, soft stomach - with anywhere from six to fifteen strokes. In the latter case, once released Lois would collapse into a weeping, mewing, boneless heap on the deck, her screams and sobs having been completely disregarded.

Junior Allen, smiling as always, then simply picked her up, dropped her face down on his bunk, spat on his hand to lubricate his by now rigid cock, spread apart the girl's buttocks and thrust into her squirming rectum, alternating deep and shallow strokes so that Lois gasped and cried out repeatedly, impaled and writhing helplessly beneath his heavy, powerful body, until he was satisfied. Certainly her cries and protests encouraged him to draw out the ordeal; he always continued steadily until Lois was completely subdued, all resistance gone. When her sobbing had quieted and she no longer struggled, when she simply gasped and reflexively tightened the walls of her rectum on his flesh as he thrust almost to her heart; then he would speed up his pace and roar with pleasure as he peaked, the voice emanating from his broad chest drowning the thin squeal – was it of pain, embarrassment, or perhaps pleasure? - that Lois gave as she felt her innermost depths sprayed with a seemingly endless series of hot, gushing spurts.

Dawn had broken and Junior Allen would be requiring his early morning oral attentions. She stood up, rinsed her mouth, and plodded over to his bunk. If she kneeled beside him as he lay and began to stimulate him with her mouth, sometimes he would lie back and allow her to pleasure him, instead of thrusting deep into her throat. He was erect, a good eight inches of engorged, uncircumcized flesh sticking straight up. Lowering her head, she kissed the purple tip, licked it thoroughly, then popped it into her mouth. Sucking slowly and carefully, she drew it in for almost its full length; paused, while caressing the shaft with her tongue; then let it slide back through her full lips. He stirred, so she quickly repeated the motion. Feeling her master's gaze on her she opened her soft, beautiful eyes wide to acknowledge him respectfully; he enjoyed seeing her doe-like, submissive expression as her mouth was stretched wide by his thick cock.

She looked up obediently as she sucked him; she felt a trickle of pre-come on the head, and took care to swallow it as she moved her head slowly up and down. On this occasion Junior seemed content to allow her to service him; a few more attentions and she felt his shaft thicken, his body shifted and he began to come. Almost without warning her mouth was filled with warm, fountaining liquid, which she quickly swallowed, making as she did so small sounds of ecstasy that hopefully conveyed suitable appreciation of her master's nectar.

She continued to suck him, and swallow, until the flow of come subsided; he made a curt motion of his head, indicating that her work was, for the moment, complete. She inspected his wet cock to make sure that it was licked clean; then hastened to the head to brush her teeth, gulp a measure of vodka, and remove the salty, sticky taste of Junior's sperm. The vodka distracted her with its warm glow; she took another sip, then began to prepare breakfast.

The day passed unusually, without demands from Junior or Fancha for her to present her various parts for duty. In the middle of the long, sunny afternoon, Junior left on an unspecified errand. However the presence of Fancha, Lois' nude state, and the fact that the boat was moored on an island far from anyone else all ensured that the chances of escape were nil. Instead, Fancha regarded her with appraisal. "Do you know where it was Junior went?"

Lois expressed a lack of knowledge about the doings of her master. "He's out with an old shipmate. Swedish. He's going to bring him back to the boat. Then you and I are going to put on a show for the men. You better get ready; when I'm done with you, you'll have to pleasure them both."Then, laughing gleefully "Maybe me as well. Maybe all at the same time. How do you like that, Miss? Not so high and mighty as before, are we? Guess getting your ass tanned regular changes your attitude some. Think I'll tell Junior you were difficult today; then we'll start the evening with you hooked up and wriggling while you wait for your butt to start burning. I've got an urge to make your white ass jump; before it gets fucked.

Maybe I'll whip inside your thighs some this time; told that hurts a girl more than anything. The men will enjoy seeing a high class white bitch begging and howling, saying she'll take it in her mouth or ass if I stop whipping her...only for a minute. Makes them real hot." Lois blushed deeply; on occasion she had indeed shamefully offered to do anything to stop the relentless strokes that seared her backside.

As the afternoon drew to a close, Fancha told Lois to shower. "You wash up nicely; clean your ass and pussy, fix your hair. Put on some make up. You're going to be a special treat, all naked and white. Ever been fucked by a bunch of people at the same time? No, I don't think so. But you better do well; or you'll be even sorrier. Maybe Junior will have me heat up a wire hanger on the stove and lay it on your soft little ass. You likely to get some permanent reminders that you are first for Junior; and then me. You make those little sounds when you're taking it in the ass; I know you're liking it. You better be sure and be liking it; not just pretending. Pretending will get you fifteen strokes with the cane, tonight."

And indeed, there had been occasions – for instance, when Junior's rhythm plunged him gradually deeper and deeper into her ass, so that she became a weightless ball of sensation, legs folded back, entirely at his mercy, raped and pillaged – when Lois had become moved in spite of herself, letting out a squeal of excitement, though often mingled with pain. Helpless before their superior strength and will, her role was to serve them without reservation. She was obliged to carry out any sex act whatsoever – occasionally Fancha would urinate in her mouth – and this utter lack of power occasionally stimulated her, so that she felt an urge to open herself completely to their depredations, pleasing herself when she pleased them.

Her self-control, indeed her self-respect was under constant siege; from time to time it was easier to let it go, to be a sex slave, abandoning resistance (either physical or mental), to accept their attentions in her mouth, pussy, ass, with her hands; the previous night, Junior had come all over her face, so that it streamed with liquid. The impact of the hot semen swept her away; she was a fuck toy, a receptacle. Sometimes even the cane, setting her softest parts on fire, was stimulating, and the anal or oral ravishing that followed as she desperately tried to soothe her burning flesh, exquisitely fulfilling. She sensed that she was being steered into a state of masochistic acceptance; but not too quickly, since they were enjoying breaking her down and seeing her indignation and humiliation as she was forced into some new degenerate act.

The sun set and the lights in the cabin turned on. Lois had bathed and applied makeup; hoop earrings hung from her delicate ears. She was a highly attractive sight, with long, slender limbs, small but perfect breasts, a trim figure that still had some lushness, and soft raven hair that framed sensitive features and enormous dark eyes. One might think she came close to perfection; which made the stripes that decorated her small rounded buttocks all the more remarkable. In the head she had applied mineral oil to her front and back passages in anticipation of multiple penetrations; she wore a light perfume, and was slightly drunk.

Fancha had instructed her to stand in the corner like a naughty child; she was very conscious of her naked bottom's vulnerability, and flinched when Fancha approached her. But the Haitian merely patted,her, squeezed her breasts, and stuck a hard wet tongue in her ear. Fancha had shaved Lois' pussy days ago; her small plump bare labia were divided by a deep cleft, which glistened slightly from the lubrication she had applied. She felt shame, something close to despair, and a certain kind of excitement; she was naked, marked, a slave, stripped of her dignity and awaiting vigorous usage in all parts of her.

She faced the corner planks obediently, but soon heard sounds on the gangway and peeked over her shoulder. The cabin door opened, and Junior – apparently slightly impaired – staggered in, accompanied by a large Nordic-looking man of similar build, clearly another sailor. They brought with them a strong smell of liquor. "We're back; this is my friend Sven...brought him to meet Miss High and Mighty here. She's going to be very nice to him, best she can be. Whatever my friend wants...clear on that? Come over and introduce yourself."

Pushed by Fancha, Lois walked shyly over to the disheveled big man, who had slumped onto a stool yet was awake enough to observe her with keen interest and admiration. Motioning with a hand, he signaled her to show him her backside. Blushing at the thought of how her striped ass must look, she turned and faced away from him, head down, feeling his eyes devouring her marked, but beautifully shaped, bottom. "Now you go sit on his lap and give him a kiss." Lois walked over and eased herself onto Sven's lap. She put her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his. His hard tongue, redolent of scotch, immediately thrust into her soft orifice. She entwined her tongue with his and they mingled saliva; she gently rubbed her bottom against his lap, feeling him grow hard.

Reaching down, she rubbed his penis through his canvas pants; Sven growled and embraced her with frightening strength. She stroked his cock; then unbuttoned his pants and grasped the hot flesh, easing it out of his long johns. It stood erect, pulsing with blood, a splash of liquid on the tip. So far, she was doing well. She let herself slip off his lap onto her knees in front of him. Grasping his cock, she fondled it, then kissed it. It jerked at her touch; she parted her lips and took it in, sucking as she had been forcibly taught. She began an up and down motion, taking it in deeply, then retreating to lick the base of the head. Sven moaned, and the liquid on his cock tip increased. All three of her captors watched in fascination as she slowly, deeply fellated him; her soft lips spread by the swollen shaft, her tongue busy. Obediently she looked up at him; he grinned with satisfaction as she slid her mouth almost to the base of his organ, her eyes widening as it filled her throat.

"Well, wait a minute here!" It was Junior, smiling but apparently annoyed. "Looks like Miss here is enjoying this. She needs to learn to mind, first. Then maybe she can start enjoying herself. Fancha, put this bitch on the post."

Smiling fiendishly, Fancha grasped Lois' hair hard and pulled her upright, popping Sven's hard cock out of her mouth ("Say Junior, I was enjoying that!") and, holding her wrists, dragged het to the wooden post and closed the dangling handcuffs on her wrists. One again she was raised almost on tiptoe, facing the post, her long back, round bottom, and soft thighs exposed. She started to plead to be allowed to continue the blow job; that she would do anything...anything...but please not to whip her...she was already so sore...

"Fancha, shut that bitch up." The Haitian pushed a damp rag into Lois' mouth and tied a bandanna around it. Effectively silenced, Lois could only mew piteously and send beseeching glances from her dilated, frightened eyes. Perhaps Sven would intercede to spare her from the punishment she knew was coming. But the big sailor was staring in excited anticipation at her naked body, then wolfishly at the cane that Fancha now held. His cock was still out, and seemed more engorged than ever. He touched himself, then nodded eagerly at Junior. No help there. Fancha stepped behind her; she tried to steel herself, to anticipate the pain and fight it. A whistle and a crack; then an agonizing flash of pure pain. Fancha had struck her hard on the inside thigh, an inch or two below her pussy; the softest flesh on a woman's body.

Lois squealed through the gag and flung herself around, desperate to soothe the vicious bite of the cane. Another blow landed on the other thigh, so that Lois (to the amusement of the onlookers) hurled herself to the other side, staggering on tiptoe back and forth across the deck, her wrists confined above her head. Then a third stroke across her exposed buttocks, stirring the old stripes into new life; a fourth cut across her thighs just below the curve of her bottom. Lois was howling through the gag; these new tortures were more exquisitely painful than any of the simple beatings her buttocks had previously suffered. She sobbed and wailed, but her cries were muffled by the gag; would this never stop?

Five, six, seven, eight...her inner thighs were striped like a zebra, her buttocks were aflame, and as she twisted wildly in her bonds one cut slashed across her soft little tummy, branding it vividly. It was going to be the full fifteen tonight; Fancha worked the cane across the soft, sensitive flesh as Lois became hysterical, shaking her head violently and causing tears to fly from her eyes. Thirteen, fourteen; applied up and down her body; and fifteen, a slash that neatly intersected the brightest stripes on her buttocks, and hurt very much more than any of those preceding it.

The room was warm; Lois hung from the handcuffs, sobbing brokenly. "Take her down and get her ready." The cuffs were unlocked, the gag removed; limping, she was brought over and made to lie on her back on a low table. The Haitian, now also stripped naked, straddled her face; Fancha had also shaved her bush and her pink cleft bulged. "Now, eat her. Make sure you get her asshole real clean, too". A dusky bottom was pushed against her face; desperate to escape further whipping, Lois opened her lips and began to lick Fancha's soaking pussy, which was surprisingly sweet. A hand guided her head to Fancha's small rosebud of an asshole; Lois obediently lapped at it with her little pink tongue, then prbed inside with the tip. It tasted musky and strange; the other girl began to moan and move back and forth beneath the ministrations, rubbing her pussy and ass on the girl's face, which was soon sopping wet. The men watched as the two bodies intertwined; Fancha cried out as she popped one orgasm after another. Excited beyond measure, she lowered her mouth to Lois' shy, but naked, pussy, and began to lick and lap it. Then it was Lois' turn to moan and cry out through the wet, slippery flesh that pressed on her face.

Suddenly Junior stepped forward and roughly pushed Fancha off the table. The girl went flying and hit the hard floor with a loud bump. Ignoring her, Junior put a massively muscled arm around Lois and flipped her over, so that she was on all fours on the table. "Now you finish what you started with my friend Sven here." The other sailor stepped in front of Lois and presented his cock to her; she immediately commenced to suck it as lasciviously as she could. She felt a sharp sensation in her ass; Junior had parted her buttocks, manipulated her anus with a pair of fingers to stretch it open, then driven into her.