tagNonConsent/ReluctanceAnnals of Potentate III

Annals of Potentate III


Another black comedy for the readers of 5/8: this one a modern Victorian tale narrated curiously out of sequence from denouement to beginning. The point of view is the butler of a strange manor populated with shadowy denizens timelessly adrift in a decadent haze on the southern coast of the Mediterranean Sea. This is his droll recollection of one fond evening at an infamous villa where a girl is interviewed by several gentlemen of varying cruelty.

The perverse goings-on and nature of the characters are exclusive to them; their views are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect anything 5/8 would condone under his own roof.


Rebecca folded her arms over her breasts.

From the corner of my eye I observed her. The girl peered around the room, pigeon-toed like a gawky student, nervously eying a blue paddle next to a jar of petroleum jelly on the coffee table. Other items littered it like any other table, ashtrays, cigarette packs, drinking glasses, but those two incongruities must have struck her as truly out of place. A cruelly handsome Latin man with the predatory eyes of a hawk, a Kaptain in his mid-thirties, greeted her in English. But he did not stand. The Kaptain eyed the slender young brunette from head to toe like he contemplated buying her. Finally he asked her to take the chair across from the one where he sat.

As I left she shifted awkardly in her seat, trying to keep her knees together in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal the flimsy lavender underwear beneath her plaid skirt. When I returned with cool refreshments the Kaptain had transferred to the loveseat. The way Rebecca sprawled in his lap hitched the short garment up enough to expose her panties. The Kaptain removed his hand from where he'd cupped the prominent mound bulging nice and roundly from the material. Even from across the room the front of the panties appeared soggy. When I cracked the door again minutes later the Kaptain had them pulled to one side to better promote the charms glistening below her navel. With murmurs of reassurance he slid a comforting finger in and out of the nervous young lady. She squeaked a tiny moan, with her eyes closed she never noticed me in the doorway. Later still I arrived with more drinks to see the lavender panties lay casually tossed aside on the loveseat. One shapely bottom cheek glowed with a bright red palm print. Between the slender thighs her delicious crease shone wetly, the crepe-like flaps of her meaty lips folded back, shiny. The Kaptain's length stood at full attention from the fly of his uniform trousers. Rebecca gripped the base of his thickness in one small hand, tongue licking at her lips, eyes glazed over as if hypnotized by the size and diameter of what she held. He whispered a few words in her ear. A firm and steady rhythmic pumping of her fist increased the Kaptain's breathing rate, within moments he panted as if he'd run a mile.

As I set down the fresh drinks and cleared the old ones the inevitable occurred. A long squirt of whiteness launched from the purpling crown. The viscous mass propelled toward the ceiling but fell far short. Slowing at the apogee of its short journey it seemed to almost hover, changing shape before plummeting downward to splat on the back of the hand that had coaxed it forth. Another two shots reached for the sky and plopped on one of the girl's bare thighs and forearms and began to gel. More of the same bubbled from the helmet head but without the velocity of those inaugural bursts.

The Kaptain's copious passion slid down his fuselage, coating his equipment with a filmy sheen. This also resulted in Rebecca contracting a dire case of sticky fingers, she moved her hand away from the scene of the crime and regarded the clinging mass of gruel. A frown formed on her pretty face, perhaps because she glanced around the room and didn't see a box of tissues. The reader may rest assured I certainly did not volunteer one of the starched linen napkins on my tray for a mess easily cleaned up by more capable means. Trust the industrious Kaptain to arrive at the same solution as the one I had in mind! He lifted the splattered hand to the girl's frown and directed her what to do. By the time her hand was spotless the frown had enlarged and poor Rebecca looked like she was about to heave her cakes.

"Now take care of the splotch on your arm. That's a big girl! Don't look so green around the gills. Scoop up that on your leg onto your finger. Don't look at me like you don't know what to do with it now. You are so cute with your finger in your mouth."

Yet the job remained incomplete. With a firm hand on the back of her head he pushed her face into his lap where the slick totem awaited. The girl was made to tongue every soiled square inch until the state of cleanliness met with the Kaptain's exacting hygienic standards. A couple of large globs congealed on his uniform pants and he compelled the girl to kneel on the floor in front of him to reach them with her tongue. Rebecca kneeling forward in such a short skirt and divested of her panties treated me to another angle of her flushed pussy, open with undeniable arousal despite the distasteful task at hand. The alluring crinkle of muscle centered in the valley created by the halves of her fat young buttocks drew the Kaptain's attention, and his finger. Her ass squirmed as his fingertip traced a tight circle around and around the circumference of the pronounced button. Later I will detail just how thoroughly I examined the girl in preparation of bringing her to the Kaptain's study and therefore had become closely acquainted with the moist privacies nestled between Rebecca's thighs. The end of his stern finger continued ominously rotating her trembling sphincter. An endearing tableau took place when Rebecca farted in apprehension. The Kaptain and I exchanged huge smiles and he administered a dozen hard smacks to her quivering asscheeks for her faux pas, adding to the collection of handprints already accumulated.

Afterwards the Kaptain instructed Rebecca to resume the laundering of his trousers while his finger resumed its former post, relentlessly circling the most sensitive region on a girl's body. Upon completion of her task her eyes went suddenly wide and she gasped in shock. It takes very little imagination as to where he had his finger then. Safe to say the chances of her squeezing any farts to a logical conclusion again anytime soon remained vastly remote.

I took my leave with Rebecca facedown over the Kaptain's lap, his forefinger probing out of my sight but not out of her mind you may rest assured. The plump cheeks of her behind shimmied as she wriggled at the intrusion, a series of grunts issuing from the cushion where she smothered her face. The lining of her anus clung to the hidden digit as it began to slowly emerge, the raspberry colored flesh being pulled inside out. Upon reinsertion the sweet young thing uttered a long groan. Since that seemed to signal the commencement of a lengthy anal inspection I closed the door discretely behind me.

Half an hour later both occupants of the study were unclad. Rebecca's pear-shaped breasts are long like fattened sausages capped with very large blunt brown nipples. They jumped in an erratic yet erotic fashion from the vigorous pummeling beneath her hips. She sat on the Kaptain's nakedness with her back to him facing toward me, eyes closed again. Her juices lubricated his endowment abundantly. She squished with every thrust, her lovely cuntlips parted by his girth. The Kaptain ordered her to open her eyes and hold my gaze until he finished with her. She wore the dazed look all girls get with a serious tool lodged inside that sensitive slippery pocket where a lot of mixed feelings tie together.

The scent of her secretions hung in the air; no telling what paces the frisky Kaptain put her through in my absence. Her groaning had changed to a mindless joyful gurgle punctuated with occasional shrieks of pleasure. She might not have been happy when I departed last time but she beamed with satisfaction now. The nervous girl replaced by an uninhibited wanton matching every stroke to intensify her inner exquisite sensations. Her pussy slurped, emitted a protracted kweef and her eyes closed again in a charming embarrassment that broke my heart. Soon she underwent an orgasm that made her scream. Rebecca's heaving chest made her breasts judder. The smell of her was really thick in the room now, reminiscent of the cloying fishiness of the seashore.

The Kaptain snatched her off of him crying out: "On your knees, you little bitch, with your mouth open!"

The girl sighed at the robbery of her playtoy but sank to the floor submissively. Her body still twitched with pleasure after such abbreviated recovery time. I noted drops spotting the polished hardwood just below her gaping cunt, the origin of the dripping. Squatting in subservience drew her buttocks wide apart, the very center aglisten with Vaseline. Her anus had a reddened and abused look to it, the circle of muscle enflamed and swollen.

With his rampant manliness preceding him like the proud prow of a ship the Kaptain approached the kneeling teenager and touched the bulb at the end to the girl's bottom lip. "Open your mouth or that spanker on the table won't remain idle for long, my pudding," he said to her. Obediently she dropped her jaw, on her knees with her hands resting on top of each thigh, eyes in line with the man holding a big scummy pole in her face. Once again many squirts jetted from him, four or five powerful ones followed by three or four of the dwindling variety.

Having witnessed the Kaptain interview a multitude of nubile female candidates like Rebecca never do I fail to marvel at the man's ejaculatory abilities. The man is a human geyser capable of spewing like a gardenhose several times in the course of an evening. A sensualist and devotee of Tantric sex he maintains a controlled diet and seldom drinks unless initiating a new charge. Vibrant young girls are energetic and athletic enough to make it thirsty work, but the rewards are great.

Rebecca made it obvious she'd never had a mouthful of fresh warm semen before, let alone force-fed to her from the source. She appeared to be perilously close to wasting the loving tribute paid her by letting it dribble down her chin onto her breasts and, ultimately, the floor. Might I interject the hardwood had had a time of it tonight after Rebecca's yawning dripping flower petals. The Kaptain would have none of this, of course, and I am in total agreement with his philosophy on such matters. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head. "Get that sullen look off your face, you cunt, and swallow what's in your mouth." Finally he resorted to clamping a hand over her vulgar lips and pinching her nostrils shut to ensure compliance.

A man who always achieves the desired result! With that triviality out of the way he bent her ass up over the loveseat and with two stiff fingers stirred the insides of her smelly vaginal pouch, stretching her sticky biscuit this way and that during his ministrations. He extracted two tacky digits with a wet slurp a minute and three kweefs later. He bid the red-faced Rebecca to sit and poked both fingers in her mouth. She diligently sucked at them sitting primly with her thighs clamped together and eyes avoiding mine.

After supervising her bath earlier I snickered at her modesty. No matter. The Kaptain would not let me retire for the evening without assuring Rebecca tended to my wants as much as she had his. My erection throbbed with anticipation.

"Jiggs, why don't you collect Nicholas and Bertie. I think I'd like to introduce our newest addition to them."

"Very good, sir," I replied.

As I bowed myself out of the room the conscientious and dedicated Kaptain removed his fingers and stuffed his drooping penis into the girl's mouth to tirelessly forge ahead in furthering her education. A slave girl needs to become rapidly acclimated to her new social status. The unselfish Kaptain immediately had her retching and gagging with his expertise. The door closed on a series of desperate glug-glug-glugging. And a hint of fish.

Bertram Phipps and Nicholas Kane, the same legendary and internationally known disciplinarian we've all heard about, were our guests for a fortnight at the secluded Potentate III villa on the coastline of northern Algeria close to the Moroccan border. "On the outskirts of town and outside the law," is the phrase the Kaptain used enumerating the virtues of the enterprise when our guests arrived a week ago. In the circles those two gentlemen travel Potentate III is as well known as Kane himself. From the time they first shook the Kaptain's hand their incessant smiling and grinning indicated how keenly aware they were that the girls of the villa would frequently polish their knobs during the course of their stay. Nothing rivals the prolonged unhurried succulent affections a pretty girl's mouth can offer a man before dinner, then brandy and cigars and her tight bunghole at bedtime. Each of the guests' quarters contained a selection of birch switches to choose from should the spirit move a visitor to whip one of the girls for his pleasure or her punishment albeit a consummate professional like Kane would naturally always carry the tools of his trade with him. The Kaptain encouraged men to lend a strong hand when required and our guests routinely and delightedly complied.

I felt the Kaptain was saving the lilly white asscheeks of a slut like Rebecca for the lash of Nicholas Kane. He trafficked in women for a tightly knit organization run by a Saudi Arabian called the Sheikh, notorious in Egypt and the Slave Coast. His friend Bertie Phipps, a professor in London, moonlighted with Kane for the Sheikh, with a large university as a combination talent pool/hunting ground the good professor Phipps pinpointed much prime flesh.

Both slavers delivered choice female delicacies worldwide. Potentate III's niche market mission statement outlined their commitment to consumers as purveyors of the finest nubile flesh between the ages of 18 and 25.

Rebecca, now being briskly entertained by the Kaptain in his study, was one of the younger ones. Verifiably 18-years-old, just like the blonde taken with her by Potentate III operatives from the train in Vienna and flown to North Africa. Rebecca and her girlfriend, Ashley, trekked from South Carolina; touring the old country via Eurail with backpacks; the girls' summer rail trip a gift from their respective parents for graduating a difficult Catholic high school curriculum. Whereas Rebecca received her indoctrination from the Kaptain, Ashley got hers from a different senior agent.

Ashley's adventures I shall relate in their entirety elsewhere because her story is separate from Rebecca's.

I thought whimsically about the two new inductees on my way to Kane's and Phipps' rooms. The big clock in the corridor struck eight as I walked by, the night young and pregnant with promise. Kane and Phipps would revel in what lay ahead in the ensuing hours with slithery squirming little Rebecca. Knowing the Kaptain as I did he'd have plenty of high jinks awaiting his distinguished guests. Which is not to say Ashley was having any easier of a time. I knew, I had to keep track of her as well tonight.

When the capture agents delivered the pair of sedated girls to me this afternoon I installed them behind locked doors inside a private room with two single beds. Before strapping their wrists and ankles to the bedframes I stripped each girl of her plimsoles and shorts and tops. The Kaptain wanted me to sniff all incoming panties in case a particularly ripe pair came through. Those he asked I save, each in its individual Ziplok bag, to be passed out in the future as gifts or party favors to those interested in such things. Ashley's panties I tugged off first and they smelt like freshly washed cotton. Rebecca's pair had a soaked crotch, her pungent odor hardening me like an aphrodisiac. These went into a baggie straightaway to preserve the aroma. I would refrain from passing the fragrant trophy along to the Kaptain however; Rebecca's smelly yellow bikini briefs would reside in my small but personal collection. I secured her to her bed first because she started to flinch and mutter, a sure sign she recovered from whatever drug, conceivably introduced through her food or drink, made her unconscious in the first place. Returning to her after fastening down the slumbering Ashley I spoke softly, slapping her cheeks to bring her out of the fog. A half wall divided the beds from one another so when Rebecca's eyes opened and fixed on me she could only presume we alone occupied the room. She tugged at her bonds like all the girls do at first.

When she gained some cognizance I turned an avuncular smile on her. I sat on the edge of the bed without touching her. Potentate III management believes a kindly man in his late fifties like myself dressed in a butler's livery complete with cravat appears less threatening than a young thug with his cock straining at his jeans. Maybe I don't come as much as they do but I come just as hard, as you shall discover as our tale progresses.

Rebecca's head jerked around, taking in her surroundings. Her voice wavered with uncertainty. "Where am I? Who are you?" she questioned me.

"Conrad Jiggs, but please call me Jiggs, on staff here at the manor. Thomas School of Butlers, Lavendon, Buckinghamshire and a stint at Shrewsbury School I'll have you know."

"What happened to me? Why am I here?"

"You are an esteemed guest in the house."

"Where's my friend?"

"Ashley? The two of you will be reunited soon enough. You must bathe before your interview with the Kaptain. He doesn't much care for a scruffy scrubber," I said, admiring the wings of her pussy lips obscured by a thatch of dark curls. She'd soon be rid of that!

"Why am I naked?" Rebecca wailed. The pears on her chest wobbled prettily when she spoke, the nipples hard and pointed. A whiff of her moistening cunt betrayed her involuntary youthful arousal.

"Relax, I told you you are a guest here. You're only being prepared for a bath prior to your interview. Why else would you be unclothed, dear Rebecca?"

"How do you know my name? And Ashley's?"

I said gently but cryptically, "The master of the house told me of you coming."

The operatives who abducted Rebecca and Ashley had met them this morning on a train. After rendering both of the girls unconscious by methods best left fully unexplained here, agents whisked them to a small private airfield and flew them to Algeria in a small private jet. Capture agents troll the European youth hotspots and the two maidens from South Carolina got caught up in Potentate III's net. Their backpacks had been rifled and their identities learned. But I didn't tell Rebecca that.

She started to get alarmed when I took hold of a flap of each of her cuntlips and pulled them apart. I could smell her then. To her credit she did not squirm, much. The lingering effects of the knockout drops would keep her docile till the morrow and serve her well in the forthcoming rigors of the evening. The pinkness among the hair beckoned me to insert a friendly exploratory finger. I slipped it back out of her a minute or two later, shiny and perfumed with dew.

Rising from the mattress I said, "Don't be frightened, I only wanted to expose that tender area for barbering purposes. And now, you minx, I must go and find the shears."

She put up a mild protest as I trimmed the needless foliage down to the skin with electric hairclippers. In the bathtub I'd take my razor to her stubble. Afterwards I'd work the oils and lotion into her mound to make it smooth and soft to the touch. The Kaptain treasures femininity, as do I, which is why he put me in charge of such attention-to-detail matters. I noticed upon finishing her haircut an abnormal amount of juice leaking from her pussy, the trip to the barber had obviously excited her very much. Let me confess it excited me too and I encouraged Rebecca to accept my bloated compliment inside her mouth in order to gain some relief for myself. That clumsy loose cannon of mine discharged a steaming volley across her face.

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