Lawyer Ravished and Enslaved Ch. 09

So, was Tucker really a federal agent working for Strom/Sturmer? No, that made no sense. He'd been working at the Pleasure Palace for years, his real name I knew now was Eduard and federal agents don't participate in kidnappings, beatings and rapes. Do they? Did Ed tell Nitto or someone else that I was willing to work with a federal agent so that they could get rid of me after I performed the task they'd ask. That was possible. I was one of the few people who knew Alan Strom was the notorious Thinker. Oh, Christ, I'm a dead woman, I thought. Why did I cooperate, but wouldn't it have come out the same way if I hadn't cooperated?

Jimmy took the gags out of our mouths and went on, "We don't want to rough you up too bad as it would reduce your price tomorrow which will already be low enough given your age. But they never mind if we fuck the shit out of cunts before we sell them as long as we hose them off before putting them up for sale. It ain't like either of you are exactly virgins."

There were now seven men present in the warehouse.

I told Jimmy that they had been lied to and that I was a good slave. He was not having any of that. I said that I had no idea what they thought they could achieve by taking Cathy. Wasn't she working for a federal prosecutor? Wouldn't selling her overseas bring in the feds for sure?

Jimmy responded that he personally did not know where Cathy had been since she'd left the Pleasure Palace years ago but Tucker had convinced Nitto to sell her overseas along with me. I wondered if that meant that Sturmer and Rausch had decided to get rid of her as a witness, along with me, as to what had happened five years before.

If Cathy had somehow avoided getting raped five years ago, she was not avoiding it this time. She was flopped on one of the mattresses, two guys held her knees apart and a third guy slammed into her pussy. Strangely, though, while being raped, she was looking at me even as she hyperventilated. It was unnerving.

Jimmy said that I should lie down and pointed to a mattress. It had been a long time since I'd been the star of a serious gang bang. When I was not being bred, the Pleasure Palace was charging a high fee for men to use me. Many men are willing to participate in a free gang bang, but not many are willing to pay a lot of money for sloppy seconds, thirds or fourths.

I laid down on the mattress and resolved to accept what would happen passively and hope that death would come painlessly whenever it came. I said, though, "Ok, but I have definitely not consented to any of this," to which Jimmy replied, "Who cares."

Jimmy naturally fucked me first. At first, I was passive. The situation was horrifying.

Jimmy said, "Stacy, you might as well have a good time, if you die in a month, it won't make it any better that you did not enjoy your last chance to enjoy life."

I thought it over and agreed. First, I kidded myself that this horrible fate could not be real. Then the rare, well-cultivated, awesome powers of my brain activated, the powers that allow me to ignore the parts of my consciousness that perceive reality while allowing the parts that feel pleasure to operate. In my head I was on a beautiful beach with a handsome movie star.

So, yes, Monsieur, I enjoyed my last sex with Jimmy. He was a total bastard but had not lost his talent in bed. My skills at sex were also supreme. We fucked like the two hottest porn stars in history but without the distraction of having to make a movie. After he rode me a while in the missionary position, he brought up my legs and pushed and pushed. He brought his legs back around me and rocked me on top but with me pushing down fully onto him with penetration so deep that my breath was stopped and his cock could not move forward because it was hitting the top of my cervix.

It seemed I had a dagger in the center of my body, a soft warm pressure. I came hard dimly sensing I should not be in ecstasy but it did not matter if it was love, or sex, or a god, or death or all of the above. With him so deep, it seemed like there was nowhere for the orgasm to go. It would have to reverberate through my womb forever.

Of course, that passed, but Jimmy did not come. Instead, he pushed me back on my back and I wrapped my legs around the motherfucker again. As I had learned so well to do, I did not think about where I was or where I was going. No, I thought of another movie star, or all handsome movie stars at once. Jimmy moved in and out and, holding a breast and the back of my neck as he kept coming and going and coming and going, until finally I could feel his pace slow. I began wildly to push my clit and g-spot against him the best I could. Our mutual orgasm would have been so romantic if I were not on a dirty mattress on a warehouse floor with a talented but completely ruthless asshole.

A second man was plowing into Cathy when I looked over. She had closed her eyes. She seemed to have made the same calculation that I had. She focused on her pleasure.

I had never watched Cathy orgasm before. It was not subtle. She made a loud Ahh sound, began to gasp for breath like she'd just run a marathon and blurted out "oh fuck, oh fuck" over and over again.

Our following three rapes each were less eventful although I managed to come at least once more. Cathy many more than that. Cathy's reaction seemed strange even to someone as strange as me.

Afterward, we were gagged, handcuffed, had our ankles and knees bound and were left on the bed to get whatever rest we could in our physical and mental state.

Naturally, I thought of where I might be taken and if I would be alive in a month. In addition to the fear and physical discomfort, I was mad that it had seemed like I was so close to freedom but now would suffer a fate even worse than what had happened over the last five years. It seemed so unfair.

I knew I'd never sleep if I thought about what had been done to me. Thinking of other victims - of slaves taken by Barberry Pirates, women forced to serve as concubines to Sultans or Chinese provincial officials, women raped in Bosnia as part of the ethnic cleansing and women used as breeders and cows in Bangkok - did not make me feel any better. I might soon be as bad off as any of them.

The following day, Cathy and I were untied, ungagged, and literarily sprayed off with a hose before being dried with paper towels Jimmy pulled out of a storage box. I tried to imagine that it was not happening.

Two guys walked us into a large room and up a few steps to a platform consisting of pieces of plywood set on numerous pillars of cinderblocks. Our arms were tied with nylon ropes and pulled over metal beams in the roof. We were given electrical shocks right against our genitals and told to spread our feet about two feet and to keep them like that during the inspection if we did not want more and longer shocks. Cathy screamed on getting the shock. I was too shaken to make a sound.

I looked out and saw about 15 men of various races and cultures. Most of them looked liked they could disembowel me and think nothing of it. It was like something out of a BDSM fantasy story.

Monsieur, it was awful. The men came to inspect the merchandise. They poked and pried. Some slapped or pinched us just to see how we squealed. Our breasts were felt and weighed by nearly every potential buyer. Others made us open our mouths so they could check our teeth and tongue. Several checked my piercings carefully, even tugging at the clitoral hood piercing to make sure how it was attached.

Cathy's breasts naturally sagged a little but were still quite attractive. Her nipples were erect constantly. Her face was ambiguous. I know she had an orgasm as one buyer massaged her clitoris.

The sellers were careful to protect their product. They had disposable gloves available for those who wanted to stick their hands in our body cavities.

Mainly to torment me, Jimmy whispered into my ear what he knew of each of the potential buyers as they came up. He said things like, "That guy mainly buys for big men in Africa. You might become someone's sixth wife who he fucks with a donkey tail. That guy, there, makes movies in which the heroine always dies. I don't know if the actresses always do. The man with a funny hat does a lot of buying for Russian criminals who want to be able to offer a few western women along with the Romanian and Moldavian women they kidnap. The facilities they run aren't tidy and they aren't too careful about venereal disease I've heard. That big fellow with a beard works for a drug cartel in Mexico. I assume he's buying party girls for his boss. You'll probably die of an overdose in a few months if he's the buyer, but you'll have a lot of wild party action until then."

As to guy in an expensive suit from the Far East, Jimmy said, "I'm going to do you a favor," and he began to use a fancy dildo vibrator on me and explain to the customer, "Mr. Sam, I am going to show you how remarkably hot this slave is. She would make a wonderful addition for your live action theatre."

I scowled at first but decided that Jimmy was doing me, as well as the Pleasure Palace, a favor. Having a lot of orgasms for an audience in some filthy theatre in Shanghai or wherever would be better than being mutilated, infected or killed.

While the dildo worked, I dreamt of being chained to the mast of a pirate ship by an extremely handsome pirate and being penetrated forcefully by the pirate. I had a sincere and loud orgasm like my life depended on it. Jimmy said that I was multi-orgasmic and would be ready to go again in no time. Just the kind of recommendation I needed.

I don't recall much of the bidding. With my arms above my head, starring into lights and cold businesslike faces, I went into a sort of an out of body experience.

I know that Cathy went first. The auctioneer started the bidding at 4000 €, but it soon went up. The bidders were polite and organized. It was obvious they'd done this often before and this auction was not a particularly important event for them.

Glancing at Cathy, it seemed she was squeezing her hips together and stimulating herself while this went on. I had no idea how a woman who could soon be on her way to hopeless chattel slavery, mutilation or death could possibly react this way.

The over-40 woman went for somewhere around 80,000 €. Not much for a human life I thought. If what Jimmy whispered to me was right, she would likely be going to a harem for some man who wanted an attractive western MILF to humiliate, fuck and torture. She was led away by a rope around her neck. She seemed very calm. I thought that she was probably relieved that it wasn't much worse.

I went for 155,000 € to the well-dressed theatre owner. Jimmy congratulated himself on his excellent sales presentation. I imagined how long I would live doing live sex shows and presumably being exploited in other ways in the basement of some bar of a city that had ten times the population of Orange. I felt physically ill as a rope was tied around my neck and I was led away to a door and what was left of my life.

Monsieur, you'd like to pause my story now. Ok, Monsieur, we can make love again although it seems like a strange time to break up my story. It is kind of like the Perils of Pauline or other cliffhanger to stop here with me being led off to a worse slavery. You are excited by some awful things I think.