Enslaved Chapter 57

Enslaved Chapter 57
Quentin pressed the control button that opened the door of the Playroom…and Cassim entered. His muscular, dusky body seemed to glisten with oil. He grinned aimiably at Hans and then inclined his head towards Quentin. But his eyes were on the kneeling figure of Simone.
“Was there something, Boss?” he asked.
“I think you might say that,” smiled Quentin.
“This slave …” he pointed at Simone …” has just been fucked by Hans but she still doesn’t seem satisfied.”
“Hot for more cock, is she?”
“I think you might say that … yes …”
A little moan escaped Simone’s lips. Was there no limit to the horrors that could be heaped upon her? She had already been ****d and she had had to use her breasts in a most disgusting way. Now, it seemed, she was about to be ****d again.
“Did you say something, slave?” asked Quentin.
“N-no … no … Master,” whispered Simone.
“I thought it might be a murmur of gratitude,” grinned Quentin. Hans gave a harsh laugh. “Well, where would you like her, Cassim?” he asked.
The Lebanese considered this question with seeming seriousness. “Might let her ride me,” he said at length.
“Good idea,” said Quentin. “I like to see a shapely arse going at it hammer and tongs.”
Cassim slid down on to a black leather couch, lying on his back. He had his big prick in his hand and it was already swelling. It had much the same length and girth as Hans’ prick but his balls seemed rather larger. From the hooks on each side of the couch, Quentin hung two stirrups.
“Like to help the Lady,” he said, “she can get a good swing going when she uses these. Have you had a fuck today, Cassim?”
“About an hour ago. Madame asked me to service Julia.”
“Well, that’s great, you should have plenty of stamina. I’d like this to be a good long fucking.”
“Sure, Boss.” Cassim was gently playing with himself and getting harder all the time. He beckoned to the wide-eyed Simone kneeling by the bench. “Come and kiss my balls, white Miss,” he said. “Show some proper respect for a darkie …”
Simone’s nostrils flared. She hated coloured men, even if they were only coffee-coloured. A coal-black Negro was totally abhorrent to her. However this was no time for a discussion of race relationships. Quentin lashed his whalebone switch across Simone’s partially uplifted buttocks.
“Move your arse, girl!” he commanded.
With a squealing cry of pain, Simone was galvanised into action. Breasts swinging wildly, she twisted down on to Cassim, sliding between his parting thighs. Her face was screwed up in disgust and revulsion but, by some supreme effort of will, she pressed her mouth to the crinkly grey-brown scrotum. Her lips parted and she pressed and pressed her mouth to the slack flesh, swinging the balls from side to side with the movement of her mouth.
“I sure do appreciate it, Missie,” said Cassim, “Yes … I likes that, white Missie. Guess you don’t often get the chance to kiss a black man’s balls, eh?”
Quentin’s switch was sawing across Simone’s flinching bottom. She knew if she hesitated in her ministrations, she would feel its cruel bite.
“Look what you’ve done to my cock, girl,” said Cassim. He had been brought to full erection and was thrusting up menacingly.
“O.K., start riding, slave,” ordered Quentin.
“Get your feet in those stirrups … ahh … there … up she comes … lovely arse isn’t it, Hans?”
Simone’s upthrusting hindquarters could not have been more blatantly displayed to the two men and they watched avidly as she positioned herself … moving this way and that until her search ended. She found the big dark purple knob. She was standing up in the stirrups, braced, muscles quivering. Now there was only one way her haunches could go… Down!T he knob slipped between her parted sex lips and Simone gasped. Her features were contorted; she was sobbing. She knew she was about to commit her own atrocious ****.
“Down with you … all the way!” ordered Quentin … and lashed two more fiery strokes across Simone’s helpless bottom. The two men watched appreciatively as, in one single movement, Simone impaled herself. they saw her sex widening and the coffeecoloured ramrod gliding into her. Simone uttered a kind of gasping groan as she slid down and her back arched as her buttocks slapped onto Cassim’s belly.
“Uuuughhhh … uuuggghhh … uuuuuuggghhh …” she gasped and shuddered. Her hands were clasped to Cassim’s shoulders, her darkhaired head was bowed. Cassim was wriggling his haunches as he savoured the tightness of her. She was hot and moist, as the result of Hans’ attention.
“Ride, my beauty,” said Quentin. Again his switch bit. And Simone knew it would continue to fall if she did not do what was wanted of her.
She rose up…the slid down slowly.
She rose again until only the big knob was gripped, then sank down again.
She did this a dozen times or more at the same pace.
The switch whiplashed on to the quivering buttock flesh. “Faster!” ordered Quentin.
Squirming with pain, Simone increased the pace. They could see Cassim’s cock getting more and more slippery.
“Put that mirror in front of her, Hans,” said Quentin. At once Hans manoeuvred a full length mirror to the head of the bench. now not only could Simone see her own degradation but they, too, could see her contorted features and big bouncing breasts. Steadily she increased her pace, not wanting to feel that deadly switch again. Though it was not as cruel as the cane, it had a vicious sting to it. Gradually her breath became faster and her mouth sagged open a little. Still those breasts bounced merrily up and down with her movements.
Up …
The hard cock filling her.
Up …
Now easier to take in.
Up …
Yet stretching her to the full.
“I think she’s just beginning to like it,” smiled Quentin. He tapped the bouncing bottom but did not lay a cut across it. “Faster still,” he urged.
Simone speeded up yet again… that soft buttock flesh, now wet with sweat, slapping loudly.
„T hat’s it, girl, ride for your life!” said Quentin. He was trying to watch Simone’s face in the mirror at the same time. He saw that Simone’s mouth had opened wider. Her dark eyes, too, had begun to bulge from their sockets.
“She’s coming … she’s coming, Boss” said Hans.
“Yeah, guess you’re right …”
Whimpering whinnies were coming down Simone’s nostrils … little gasping squeals were jetting from her mouth. Her eyes began to roll a little.
“No … noooooo … NNNOOOOOOOO!” she cried out suddenly and loudly. And then she was squirming and wriggling uncontrollably as she continued to bounce wildly up and down.
“She’s coming …” repeated Hans.
“She’s coming like crazy,” laughed Quentin. “Oh, Madam hoitytoity, what a naughty girl you are! And you’ve done it all yourself.”
The despairing horror on Simone’s features said it all … but she could not deny she had brought herself to orgasm…
The hard bone remained solid within her. She was going to have to continue with this monstrous degradation.
“Enjoy yourself, slave,” leered Quentin, “Bring yourself off just as many times as you can. You all right, Cassim?”
“Fine Boss. Got another ten minutes in me yet I guess.”
The heat of lust was still in Simone. She didn’t even have to get an order to start undulating her haunches up and down again, steadily increasing her pace. Oh, the horror of it … now she wanted that massive cock in her! Wanted it to do things to her. And all three men knew it. Even while she panted her mounting lust, Simone whimpered with the abysmal shame and humiliation deep within her. All the same she could not control that lust. Before her, in the mirror, she saw her features heavy with desire, saw her wild eyes, saw the letter-box slit of her mouth from which saliva drooled, saw her breasts bouncing and rolling with her pounding movements.
Faster … Faster still… Simone simply could not stop. In the mirror, she also saw the leering grins of Hans and Quentin and thought her heart must burst with hate. Driven remorselessly on, she began to whimper and squeal.
“Eeeeee … aaaaarrr … eeeee … errrrr … errrrrr … hhhhhh … horrrrrrrr … eeee … eeeee … eeeeeee (squealing even higher) … no … no … nooooo … aaaghh … yes … ooohhh … yes … yes … YES!”
The wave of lust rose to its peak and broke over Simone. Her frenziedly pounding bottom no longer pounded. It was still, simply quaking. She sobbed and shuddered, head down on Cassim’s chest. And, as the tide of lust slowly retreated, the flood of total shame and degradation came racing in, reducing her to a torrent of tears.Then a stillness suddenly fell over her as she became aware that the root of maleness within her was still solidly hard.
“Oh, no … oh no … no … no more … no .. .mmoooooore …”
It was unbelievable that Cassim had held himself in check! But he had … he had!
Quentin lashed his switch across Simone’s quivering buttocks. “Move that arse, girl. It’s no good pretending not that you don’t love it … you’re going to come again, you randy whore … and this time Cassim will let you have everything he’s got.”
Simone’s brain seemed to have become half unhinged with horror but all the same, she found her haunches rising and falling again. It was as if she had no control over them. There were squelching sounds every time she descended. Moreover, Cassim now thrust up with his haunches every time she thrust down. Quentin came round and gripped Simone by her hair, pushing his face within inches of hers.
“You love that big hard cock up you, don’t you slave … simply love it … don’t you? Don’t you?”
By now, Simone now longer cared. She had been taken over by other forces. She no longer even felt shame and degradation. She just wanted to be driven to the peaks again by that remorseless, all-conquering cock! Wildly she rutted, totally abandoned.
Then, becoming aware that Cassim was also reaching a peak, went overboard again for the third time. Cassim’s gasps and groans mingled with Simone’s exultant cries as they exploded together.

Some five minutes later, a certain amount of order had been restored to the Playroom. Once more Quentin and Hans were drinking Brandy. Simone and Cassim were taking a shower together, a cosy little affair with Cassim constantly squeezing Simone’s breasts and repeatedly informing her what a first-rate fuck she was. Most gratifying for Simone to know!
Then, when Simone instinctively tried to escape his mauling, she got her wet, steaming bottom soundly slapped. Several times.
“And don’t ever try and pretend, in future, that you don’t like it. That just won’t wash, my girl. Now, kneel here.” Cassim pointed to the tiled floor in front of him. “Kiss my prick and say thank you, Sir.”
Cassim liked being addressed as Sir by a white woman. It was almost better than ‘Master’ which was reserved for Quentin. He watched, smiling, as Simone took the long, coffee-coloured length in her hand and kissed it.
“Say Thank you, Sir!”
“Thank you, Sir,” whispered Simone.
“Louder,” insisted Cassim.
“Thank you, Sir,” said Simone, more loudly. Cassim went back into the Playroom a satisfied man, in more ways than one. Simone came crawling along behind him. Seating himself on the couch alongside Hans, he refused the drink proffered by Quentin, who lay back in low chair, Simone kneeling erect beside him.
“It’s against my religion,” he explained. “In my faith many things are forbidden. But, at least, women are kept strictly under control and have no say in affairs. They must be obedient to their Husband or Master, who will use them sexually whenever the mood takes him.”
“Apart from the booze bit,” said Hans, “It sounds my kind of religion.”
He finished off his drink and got his glass re-filled. Quentin turned to Simone whose head and eyes were downcast. The fires of earlier lust were now quite subdued. All that remained were the bitter, dusty ashes of shame.
“Well, slave,” he said, “you had a couple of good fuckings this afternoon, did you not?”
“Yes Master,” answered Simone, her head lifted up by Quentin’s f inger under her chin.
“And it was obvious you enjoyed them. If I hadn’t been going out with my wife this evening, I might have fucked you myself. But I want to be at my best for her … and it will be quite a long evening. Still, I’ll make amends another time.”
“Thank you, Master,” said Simone. She had learned the wisdom of making appropriate responses in this kind of situation. Silence on her part might be interpreted as dumb insolence … which was a punishable offence.
After a while, Quentin got up, indicating that Simone was to follow him. She crawled along behind him towards the caged section of the Playroom.
“Time you were locked, away, slave,” he said. The cage door swung open and Simone crawled in. The cage contained a plank bed, a pinioning chair and a pillory. There were an assortment of chains hanging from the ceiling and walls. Closing and locking the door, Quentin watched as Simone crawled across the cage and pulled herself up wearily on the hard bed. She rolled over so that her curvaceous well-striped bottom was facing him. A sight he was never tired of gloating over. After a little while, he saw Simone’s shoulders heaving softly. She was crying.

Having dismissed Hans and Cassim to other duties, Quentin made his way up to his own suite in the Maison Jaune. It adjoined that of Melissa’s and had a communicating door. Quentin rang for a slave and, as it happened, it was Julia who arrived. She bobbed a nervous curtsey.
“Run me a bath, girl,” he said.
“Yes, Master …”
Another curtsey. How nicely her lovely breasts bounced. They were smaller than those of Simone but superbly shaped. High and firm. Julia hurried into the bathroom, bottom bouncing delicately. Julia had been Quentin’s first slave and was still his favourite… even though he had given her to Melissa as a wedding present. What suffering that girl had endured and still, to some extent, was enduring! But now she was servile and compliant. Perhaps a little too much so. It was nice to have a little of the rebel left, as there was in Simone.
Julia re-appeared. “You bath is ready, Master,” she said humbly.
Quentin removed his kimono and strolled into the bathroom. “You will attend me, Julia,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she sounded almost grateful, he thought.
He sank back into the foamy, scented water (it was just the right temperature) and Julia soaped him slowly and thoroughly all over. Often her soft breasts brushed against his face and chest. Julia paid special attention to his genitals and he found himself getting a partial erection. He pushed Julia’s tending hand away.
Ten minutes later, dried and powdered by Julia, Quentin was relaxing in an armchair reading a magazine, when Melissa came in. At once, Julia fell to her knees, Melissa quite ignored her and went over and kissed the top of his head.
“Had a nice afternoon, then?” she enquired.
“Quite fun,” replied Quentin. “I had Simone well fucked by Hans and Cassim and also made her toss me off with her tits.”
“Lucky her,” smiled Melissa.
“And you?” asked Quentin.
“Oh, nothing much. I was feeling lazy. I had Heidi tongue me until I went off in a doze. Julia … go and get a bottle of Champagne.”
Julia rose to her feet instantly. “Yes, Mistress …”
A little curtsey and the lovely naked slave-girl hurried off. Melissa’s eyes followed her with languid amusement. What a hell of an existence it must be, she thought. Ordered about all day long, working from morning till night, subject to instant punishment for the slightest fault. But, of course, Melissa knew all about that, having once been a slave-girl herself. That nightmare seemed to belong to another lifetime. But the nightmare still continued for Julia.
“What are we celebrating?” asked Quentin, when Julia returned and poured two glasses of Champagne.
“I’ve had a letter from Madame Vesta on the ‘Paradise, ‘ answered Melissa, shaking a piece of notepaper, “it seems that Ahmed and Jason are due some shore leave and they have asked if they could spend a little time here at Maison Jaune, to renew some aquaintances and perhaps make some new ones.”
Melissa saw Julia flinch at this news, just as if she had been struck. “Perhaps you’d like some Champagne to celebrate, Julia,” she went on … and threw the contents of her glass into Julia’s face. The girl merely wiped away the liquid and poured another glass for her Mistress. There was not even the faintest show of resentment at this action.
“And I’ve got another piece of news,” said Melissa, sipping at the fresh glass. She tittered. “You won’t believe this, Quentin, but those two hulks have been going in for penis development!”
Quentin laughed heartily. “I should have thought those two are quite adequately endowed already.” His jowls shook. “Talk about carrying coals to Newcastle!”
“Did you hear that Julia,” asked Melissa. “The next time either of those two cocks go up you, they will feel even bigger!”
“Yes, Madame,” replied Julia, her mouth quivering as she spoke. She had definitely been shaken by the news of the return of those two giant Negroes … one coal black, the other coffee coloured. On board the ‘Paradise’, once Quentin had given permission, they had fucked her to a standstill. Horrors now, it seemed, to be re-lived. But now, totally broken into slavery, Julia could do nothing but accept the facts and put a good face on it.
“I expect you’re pleased.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Have you been fucked today, girl?”
“N-no … Mistress …”
“When were you last fucked?”
“Yesterday, Mistress.”
“By whom?”
“Cassim, Mistress. I had to suck Hans at the same time.”
“Well, well … but I can tell you, you’ll get no cock up your cunt today, if that’s what you’d imagined.”
Melissa liked to hold these little interrogations with Julia from time to time. They constantly emphasised her lowly status and, if she gave the wrong answers, she would be punished. Julia stayed silent.
“Smile,” said Melissa. “You’re not sulking, I hope.”
“Oh, no, Mistress.” Julia’s lips parted in a travesty of a smile.
“Your Master and I are going to the Casino tonight.” went on Melissa. Again Julia flinched as if struck. “You know what that means.”
Julia certainly did! After the gaming was over, Melissa would take a final spin. Wherever the little white ball settled, that would be the number of cane strokes Julia would receive on her return … be it zero or 36. Oddly enough, Melissa always played fair about this.
“I haven’t given you a good hiding lately,” said Melissa, “so I hope I can make it a good one!”
Julia’s mouth twitched. It was bad enough to be punished for faults … but to be punished for her Mistress’s amusement was worse! Quentin listened complacently to this exchange. It was amazing to think that these two women had once been fellow slaves, collared and chained and locked in the same cell on board the ‘Paradise’. He even recalled how, as a little demonstration in the early days, Madame Vesta had whipped Melissa in front of him. And then invited him to take the whip. It was the first flogging Quentin had ever given and he had never forgotten it. All long ago now.
“You say, slave, you haven’t had a fuck today,” said Melissa. “But I think I shall arrange for you to have some pleasure. Come here … and get your arse up.”
It was all too familiar a command … one carried out hundreds and hundreds of times, to receive a thrashing, to be fucked, to be buggered. So deep-down trained now, Julia didn’t hesitate for a second. She thrust her shapely, naked hindquarters most invitingly at Melissa. Melissa produced from a nearby drawer a very large fleshcoloured dildo and this she proceeded to thrust remorselessly into Julia’s sex. The object entered in one smooth movement and Julia, unready for it, uttered a gasping wail of pain. The dildo projected about half an inch and had a black plastic screw top base. This Melissa now turned and the dildo began to vibrate powerfully.
“There, slave, what do you say?”
“Thank you, Mistress,” said Julia with the utmost meekness.
At the same time, she knew the device buried within her was going to bring her to one unwanted orgasm after another until she was in a state of trembling exhaustion.
“More wine,” said Melissa, “Keep our glasses topped up.”
“Yes, Mistress …” the faint hum of the dildo could definitely be heard as Julia moved about the room. As ever, Melissa loved to watch the expression on Julia’s face while this was happening. It displayed an immense effort at self-control … and a determination to act as if nothing was happening. Most amusing!
“It will be fun to see Ahmed and Jason in action again.” remarked Quentin.
“It certainly will” nodded Melissa. “And I wonder how Simone will take to them.”
“I am convinced she loathes black,” said Quentin.
“Good,” smiled Melissa broadly. She saw that Julia’s belly and thighs were beginning to tremble and she was sagging slightly at the knees. The girl’s first orgasm was obviously on its way.

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