Slaves of the Damned Ch. 02

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Carla finds solace in the arms of a slave.
3.5k words
4.29
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 02/01/2012
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Carla awoke, moaning in pain, face down. Her back ached and her belly felt as if it had been punctured. The brand on her thigh burned her, making her move her leg in discomfort. Her nipples hurt, and her labia felt swollen and scalded.

She felt a weight to her right, a body.

She opened her eyes, remembering what had happened, and where she was. Carla tried to get up, and she bumped her head on the stone ceiling of her cell. She was still in the dungeons, locked in the kennels. She had to remain prone, the ceiling barely some 10 inches from the floor.

Carla's hands were shackled behind her back, her arms painfully bended into 90 degree angles. Her ankles were similarly fastened in steel. A chain ran from her collar to her wrist restraints, holding her soft hands high on her back.

The stone floor was ice cold, contrasting with the blaze she had experienced when marching through the sand. It made her skin crawl and her nipples get erect.

She wriggled piteously, lightly touching the body near her. She twisted her head and saw it was a girl, secured in the same fashion as her. She was very pretty, with dark hair, creamy skin and luscious, full red lips. She was face down, sleeping. The girl was wet, as if she had just taken a shower. Her left thigh was branded, and the mark glowed eerily.

Carla tried to look over her shoulder, letting out a grunt of effort and hurt. Her body was a chaos of pains and stings. Her genitals itched and felt as if burned. Slowly, lust crept into her, as she longed for a penis. She didn't know why, but there seemed to her she now felt a need for sex. She tried to resist it, but it called out to her, a tingling in her lower belly, between her legs, on her breasts.

She had always liked BDSM, loved it really. She found it impossible to get off without being tied or chained, so profound was her fetish. And being restrained with heavy chains, in a small cell, naked, only intensified her libido, almost against her will.

She moaned once more, a bit louder this time, and tried to rub her mound against the floor. It was useless, unsatisfying.

Carla's cringing made her bump into the girl on her right.

-Hey!

The girl was awake now, glaring at Carla with her blue eyes.

-Stop it you stupid whore! – she hissed – when you spend 20 hours each day toiling and being raped down on the Iron Plains you'll learn to appreciate sleep!

Carla flinched, scared at the girl's sudden outburst. If she had been living, Carla would have had her tongue cut off. She had done it herself many times. But they were not on Earth any more, and Carla was afraid of this girl, as she was afraid of everything she had so far seen in Hell.

-I-I'm sorry – she apologized.

This seemed to appease the blue-eyed girl somewhat.

-Bitch... what's your name anyway?

-C-Carla. I am Carla Wells.

-American?

-Yes – Carla answered.

-I'm Marie LaGrange, Belgian.

-How come we understand each other? Do you speak English? – asked Carla.

-No – said Marie – we are speaking in the language of the fallen ones, known by the demons as Firespeech.

Carla noticed Marie had bruises on her arms and sides. On her back, there was the fresh wound of claws. She had little scratches on her face, and her left eye had a purple shade under it. She had been severely abused.

-What did you do to get sent here? – asked Marie.

-I was... I trafficked women...

-Oh really?

Marie's eyes sparkled amusedly.

-Tell me about it – she said.

-Oh, well... I worked with a Russian prostitution ring based in New York. We lured women from third-world Europe and exploited them once they got to America. Others we kidnapped. I was the boss's lover, and his second-in-command...

-Haha! – laughed Marie – one would have never guessed it! You don't look anything like a madam! You look more like a high-class whore!

Carla twisted a little, still under the curse of her lust, her pussy aching for sex.

-So – continued Marie – what about me? Am I good enough? If we were alive, would you kidnap me and make me your slut?

Her eyes spoke of a genuine curiosity, and this frightened Carla. She was serious.

-Yes – she answered – you would be on your back, pleasuring men in a stinky room, handcuffed to a squeaky bed for hours.

-Well, it isn't much different from Hell. Here, when we aren't being violated we are laboring like beasts.

-Oh...

-Yes.

Marie noticed Carla's twitching.

-You better stop that. It only makes it worse.

-Do you feel it too?

-We all feel it down here. It is eternal. There is no appeasing it. Our only release comes from our demon Masters. A resource they use to torture us, and perhaps one of the most effective. You will only feel satisfied when they rape you. And the joy comes at a terrible price. You remember their semen?

-Yes – Carla answered, her skin crawling at the memory of the burning liquid.

-It is a torment. It makes you want to die. And the appeasement of you lust, it lasts for only a few minutes. Soon enough, it comes back, stronger still. Don't worry too much about it. We learn to exist with it.

Carla wondered if she would ever do as Marie said, if she would ever grow accustomed to such a desire. She stared at Marie's bruises, at her red wounds, terrified.

-Don't worry – comforted her Marie – they heal during sleep. Which is why I need to close my eyes now. Tomorrow will be another infernal day. You should sleep too. That will help with the pain.

-They let us sleep?

-Only for a couple of hours. Hush now.

Carla found it difficult, amidst the cold, the burning inside her belly and in her thigh, and the dull pain of the bruises on her own body. She managed it, with effort.

Carla slept, as did Marie, both of them dreamlessly. There are no dreams in Hell. They both awoke to the sound of their steel gate clanging down as it was opened.

A hand gripped Carla's left ankle and pulled her out, dragging her against the stone floor. Her ankle shackles were removed, and she was forced upward into a standing position by her arm.

Her face was slapped, and she tasted blood at her mouth. A thin metal rod hit her belly, drawing the air out of her. She doubled, agonized, trying to scream, and a demon pulled her by the hair back upwards.

The aching between her legs was soon harassing her again, ruthlessly. The pain on her back, however, had disappeared.

She saw the dungeon had been entirely occupied by women, as the demons made them stand single file, in a line facing the door.

Marie was stood just behind Carla.

-Dawn is here pigs! – shouted a fiend – time to work!

There were some fifty or so women on the line, all beautiful, all collared, shackled, and branded.

Carla heard a rustle of chain. She started out in surprise as a long, thick chain wrapped itself around her waist, like a huge steel snake. The chain moved along, floating as if alive, coiling around a woman and then advancing on to the next one, until all of the slaves were joined by their waists, the massive chain binding them in coffle. She couldn't help but marvel at the inherent sensuality of the sight, of beautiful, chained women. The cold links around her nakedness felt good, exciting.

-Walk pig sluts!

A demon stabbed Carla's breast with his trident, laughing at her pain and humiliation.

The line moved forward, out through the open door, escorted by demon masters. Wire whips cracked along the coffle. Carla was struck by one, on her shoulder.

The slaves walked through a dark, black stone corridor, under insults and mockery. They were lead down a tunnel, damp and putrid, as the fallen angels lashed them. One of them grabbed Carla's pussy, sticking his thumb inside, heightening her desire. She moaned:

-Oh... Master...

The demon laughed and squeezed her genitals viciously, drawing a yelp from the slave girl. She was now more desperate than ever! The demon had teased her into a stronger lust. She needed those fingers inside her, fucking her, quelling her sexual thirst.

The girls were marched for an hour, until finally they emerged unto the sunlight, the fortress in the distance.

There was a white sun, the same which Carla had seen the other day, only it seemed much nearer to the ground than what it should have been. Its rays fell down on the girls like strings of hot lead. Carla saw they had been taken to an extensive plain, composed of what seemed to be cooled lava. Its graphite colored surface was filthy, like coal, and soon her feet were black with soot. All over the plains, there were trenches, dug into the black soil. In these trenches, hundreds and hundreds of naked men worked.

Carla saw that they were mining some grayish silver ore, using pickaxes, loading wire baskets with it. There were other girls, other than Carla's group, and they carried these huge baskets of rocks up a hill, were they unloaded the ore into mining carts. These carts were pulled by more naked men.

The women worked in pairs, a couple being chained by the waist.

The chain split, magically, forming couples. Carla was paired with the girl in front of her, a short tanned beauty with shoulder-length curly brown hair. She would rather have remained close to Marie, the only slave she knew, but Marie was chained to Japanese girl.

Their wrist shackles disappeared, and their hands were free. Their collars remained, however.

A demon whipped them savagely, drawing thin red lines on their skin, putting them to work. Carla's ass and belly were dotted with droplets of blood. The pair hurried to grab a basket, struggling under its weight, sharing the load between them, as they started up the dark hill. Their waist chain jingled as their hips swayed with their burdened footsteps.

-What is your name slave? – asked Carla's partner, once the weight had settled somewhat in their arms and their steps had become more regular.

-I am Carla Wells, from the U.S.

-Burcu Yamiz, from Turkey.

Carla grunted, holding the basket. The itching in her pussy was killing her. She needed release. Her nipples were now permanently erect, owing to her perpetual state of arousal. She would have fucked anything. She would even fuck Burcu.

It didn't seem a bad idea at all. She had a lovely figure after all, and a pretty little face. She imagined Burcu's tongue pleasuring her, darting between her labia with passion. Carla bit her lip. She could see Burcu was dripping too.

Along the road up the hill, more demons stood guard, all armed with tridents and wire whips. Whenever Carla and Burcu halted or slowed down, they were harried forward swiftly and with pain. After a long walk, they arrived at the top of the hill, where the carts were.

-Hurry up whores!

They spilled the ore into one of the carts, before being whipped back down the hill. They ran this time, carrying an empty basket, the chain rattling, Carla's huge tits bouncing painfully. When they returned to the trenches, they placed the basket down near the men and grabbed a full one, to being their walk once more.

This repetitive, arduous labor they did for hours and hours, toiling under the rising sun. Soon, sweat covered Carla's bare skin. Drops of it coursed down her tits. At one time, while they were descending the hill, a demon stopped them. He threw Burcu to the ground and raped her while Carla watched with envy.

He howled and blasphemed while he did it, pounding the girl, their skins slapping each time the creature rammed the slave. He held her down by her arms, digging his claws into her. Carla stood by, covering her mouth, horrified and mesmerized at the same time while her waist chain rattled. It was frightening, seeing thin Burcu being abused by an enormous demon, but there was nothing else which would alleviate her libido.

When the demon was finished, he stood up and ordered them to continue. Burcu had to be helped by Carla. She had been badly beaten, and her breasts had been scratched. Her skin was stained with soot, and she had winced and whimpered as the demon's hot sperm had torched her genitals. Carla held her up by the arm. The insides of her thighs had blood on them.

-Oh... – moaned the Turkish girl – it hurts... I am burning...

They grabbed yet another basket. After an hour or so, Burcu told her the semen had finally cooled down. She seemed better, if for a while. Carla had feared she would stumble. Who knew what the demons would do to her if that happened?

However, it was Carla who fell once, exhausted by the heat. The basket tipped, spilling ore. Carla was down on her face, her hands over her head, crying.

-I can't continue! – she wept – I can't!

-Yes you can Carla! – hurried her Burcu – come on girl, get up, quickly! The demons will get angry! Get up Carla!

Carla felt herself being hoisted up by her golden brown hair. A red fist punched her stomach, taking all air out of her. She was punched again, and again.

-Stupid pig! – exclaimed her abuser – stupid pig! Filthy animal! Pick them up!

Her brand then became white hot, scorching her thigh, and she shrieked. She was dropped onto the ground, and she desperately crawled on all fours, picking up the stones. Burcu helped her, afraid that any retaliation would involve her as well. Once the basket was filled, Carla was raised by the furious demon. She continued with her work. She didn't fall down again that day.

They unloaded the wire basket, and the cart departed, being pulled by a harnessed blonde man. As they turned around, running down the slope, the sound of trumpets filled the air. They were warlike, quick paced. On the horizon, Carla saw a black cloud of soot rising. The earth beneath her battered feet trembled.

-What is it? – she asked Burcu.

-A raid – answered the girl – quick, come!

She followed Burcu to a crevice in the slope, hidden behind a rock. It was sufficiently large to accommodate the two of them. Carla saw their guards rushed towards the black cloud, all of them, drawing their short swords. Everywhere, girls put down their baskets and laid down, whimpering, covering their faces with their hands.

The male slaves crouched in the trenches as their masters ran around them.

They hid in the small cave, out of sight. Carla relished in the coolness of the place, away from the scorch. She wiped her breasts with the back of her hand. Her skin was a mess of soot and sweat, the latter having coursed over her, smudging the black powder. She tried her best to clean herself, rubbing at her bruised belly.

Burcu peeked outside while she did this. They were still joined by the waist chain.

-Good – she said – it is a large party.

-Why is it good? – wished to know Carla.

-We love it when we get raided. It's the only rest we get. You see, when enemies show up, our masters go and fight them. We are ordered to hide. We should be here for about an hour.

-Isn't it dangerous for us?

-Not really. They only steal those slaves which work farther from Lepernel. We are very close to it. Besides, if we were to fall to them, what difference would it make? It would be the same torment, only under a different lord.

-Who are they?

-Riders from another kingdom.

-Kingdom?

-Yes – answered Burcu – you see, Hell is divided into seven kingdoms, each one with its king.

-I thought Satan ruled over Hell.

-That's a common misconception – said Burcu – Satan only rules over a portion of it. We are in the Kingdom of Lucifer. The other five kingdoms are those of Mammon, Beelzebub, Belial, Mephistopheles and Astarte. They all fight for the right to rule over the entire underworld.

-Oh... I see...

-Anyhow, we are now alone. We can do whatever we want in here.

She said it with an animalistic undertone to it, an urgency in the way she inflexed. Burcu devoured Carla with her eyes.

Carla hadn't forgotten her lust for Burcu, and the girl's remark brought it back to her in full force. Her pussy was tormenting her, crying out in need, and she was sure the tanned girl's mound was doing the same to her. They were both bitches in heat, craving for sex.

She now watched her, lying seductively on her side, smiling at her. She smiled back. Burcu grabbed the chain which joined them and gave it a gentle tug. Carla crawled to her, obediently, settling beside her as her breasts swayed.

Burcu touched Carla's lips with her fingers, lightly, appraisingly. She slipped one inside her pretty slave mouth, making Carla's face blush. She gave her cheek a gentle tug. Carla touched her partner's bruised eye, as if to comfort her.

-Do you like me Burcu? – asked Carla.

-Yes, I do.

-Am I pretty?

-You are gorgeous.

With this, Burcu wrapped Carla in her arms, kissing her fully on the lips. She gently caressed her dirty, scarred back, lovingly, as their tongues met and danced, sending cords of sensations through Carla's skin, who pressed herself against the Turkish girl, her large breasts rubbing against Burcu's smaller ones. Their bellies touched and Carla relished in her partner's warmth and smoothness.

Burcu stroked Carla's breasts with passion, rubbing them, squeezing them tenderly, massaging her nipples. She seemed to be relishing in her body, as the girl softly touched each and every inch of Carla's skin, running her hands down her flanks, over her belly, her shoulders, the lines of her white neck. She caressed her hips and her thighs, tracing her brand seductively.

They were like beasts, filthy animals mating in the dust.

She nibbled at Carla, as if she were some sweet, juicy morsel. Her mouth flickered over her partner, driving her mad. Their skins contrasted beautifully, the milky tone of Carla against Burcu's tan.

Carla's eyes sparkled lustfully. They were those dreamy sinful eyes which on Earth had conquered men, and which on Hell, were the eyes of a slave, of a pig.

Burcu sucked at her lips, gently biting them as Carla moaned. She kissed her neck, her jawbone. Burcu lowered her right hand, touching Carla's labia. The girl bit her lip.

-Take me Burcu – she whispered – make me yours. Love me Burcu.

Burcu turned around as the chain twisted, until her face was facing Carla's pussy. Likewise, Carla had access to Burcu's genitals. Burcu kissed her labia, tenderly, before slipping her tongue between them. Carla cried out.

-Oh Burcu!

She herself sucked her partner, as both girls engaged in oral intercourse, in the position commonly known on earth as the sixty nine, in Hell known by the name of "Lilith's whisper".

Burcu licked at Carla, her tongue lapping inside her, tickling her, pleasing her. Carla felt warm waves of sensation swelling from her belly, dousing the fires of her lust.

Her eyes fluttered in their sockets as she called out her lover's name. Burcu made love to her with her mouth, rhythmically, drinking her juices, making her quiver in delight. She licked Carla's clit, electrifying the girl.

Burcu's warm lips were light as feathers, givers of pleasure. They felt wonderfully on Carla's abused and pained intimacy, which now overflowed with her juices. They dripped down Burcu's mouth, over her chin. Their clits were both alive with sensitivity.

She dug her fingernails into Burcu's ass as pleasure shook her. Burcu tightened her legs, gripping Carla's face with them. They were both soaring through the skies, shrouded by warmth and joy. Carla tensed with the force of her orgasm.

-Oh! Ah!

Burcu came nearly at the same time, raising her head and screaming out. She collapsed on top of Carla, panting, sweating, only this time it was the sweet sweat of love. After a while, she turned around once more, facing Carla.

They kissed, profoundly, caressing each other's faces, breasts, bellies. Carla stroke Burcu's hair, smiling at her. Burcu rested her head on Carla's bosom, sighing, facing upwards, and Carla hugged her around the waist with her free hand.

They remained thus, locked in each other's arms, until the murderous shouts of their masters were heard.

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