Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

From: an150295@anon.penet.fi

Subject: "Arab Slave" 2/3 (mf, rape, violence)



Collected by: wodan@drakar.stack.urc.tue.nl                            



                            Arab Slave (2/3)

                          By: Kinara in Thorns



                                  Part 2



     The ride was bumpy and long, but at last the Caravan

stopped.  The Arab pulled Janie out and into a large building. 

She barely had the chance to glimpse upon several exquisite and

large gardens surrounding the house, before entering it.  She was

led to a large room with marble floors and walls, but hardly any

furniture.  There, the Arab rang a bell twice and waited.  Soon

cam the soft padding steps and around the corner came a young

handsome man with dark brooding eyes.  He looked at the naked

white woman and at his smiling father, then broke out into a grin

himself.

     "Father!  Is she all mine?" he asked in a perfect English

accent.  He clapped his hands together in glee and walked up to

Janie to inspect her.

     "What is your name?"  He asked her.

     "Janie" she replied defiantly.

     "Oh an American! How charming..."  He turned to his father

and bowed, "Thank you, father for this gracious gift!"

     "Janie, you must come with me..."  The young man turned and

started to walk away.  Janie followed, and his father called out,

"Hassan...she was expensive, so do not be too rough, eh?"

     Janie shuddered at those words..."too rough".  She followed

the boy down a long corridor and into a room.  He shut it behind

her and locked it.  Then he stared at her and smiled.

     "You American women feel that you are the equals of men?"

     Janie wasn't sure if she was supposed to answer, so she just

nodded.

     "In my country, you are anything the men want you to be...a

wife, a lover, a plaything, a drudge worker, something that can

be killed without a moment's hesitation.  I suppose my talking

like this angers you?"

     Janie nodded again.  Hassan sat on a large pile of cushions

and laughed.

     "I attended school at Oxford for four years, and during

those four years, I met and talked to many American as well as

British women.  They all believed that they were the equals to

men.  I wanted to prove them wrong, but...well, let's just say

that I wanted to remain in school even more.  But now I have my

own American slave to do what I wish with...I shall enjoy

myself."

     Janie trembled where she stood.

     "I'm having a party for my friends tonight, and I think you

shall be the guest of honor...But before that, I shall sample you

for myself."

     With that,  Hassan stood up and walked over to her.  He

threw off the cloak, and unbound her wrists.  He ran his hands

over her breasts, and then down across her flat stomach.  Without

a warning, he thrust his fist into her stomach.  Janie cried out

in pain and doubled over onto her knees.  Hassan laughed, and

slipped out of his silks.  He came around behind her and knelt on

the floor.  Forcing her head down to the ground with one hand, he

guided his hard cock into her cunt with the other.  She screamed

at the penetration, and struggled to get free.  Hassan just drove

in deeper and harder.  He released her head and groped under her

for her breast which he squeezed hard.  She lunged upwards and

managed to throw Hassan off her.  Then, sobbing, she tried to

crawl away.  He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to her

feet.  His cock was still rigid, glistening with her juices.

     "Little spitfire," he gasped as he brought his hand down

hard across her face.  He pushed her against the wall and managed

to get her hands secured in the fetters that hung there.  Now

chained to the wall, Janie could just kick, which she tried to

do.  Hassan caught a leg, hoisted it up, and chained it to a

third cuff hanging on the wall.  Now her cunt was exposed.  He

stepped back to observe her.

     Janie struggled but finally stopped, panting.  She felt so

vulnerable with her wrists high above her head, and her leg

chained as high as it would go.

     "You, bastard!" She hissed at him.

     Hassan pulled a short riding crop from it's place mounted on

the wall.  He walked over to her and rubbed it against her open

cunt.  "Does that feel nice, bitch?"  He raised it above his

head, and brought it down on her tits.  The crop left a thin

vibrant red line across both breasts.  Janie screamed.  He hit

her again, across the stomach, then again across her cunt.  Soon

her cries grew horse, but he kept beating her with the crop, his

cock very hard.  Finally, when she slumped over in a faint, he

stopped and cleaned his crop of her blood.  Taking a chain collar

from a drawer, he clipped it shut around her pale neck.  Then he

unbound her and carried her limp body to his bed.  

     Janie regained consciousness in a few minutes, and found her

self lying on her stomach across a large pillow, her wrists tied

to the bed posts, and her ass jutting upwards.  Hassan brought

his hand down across her pale ass, and she yelped.

     "Now, my feisty little slave...You didn't like it when I

tried to fuck you one way, let's see how you like this..."

     He parted her ass cheeks, and she felt the head of his cock

come up against her anus.  She moaned, knowing what was about to

follow.  He shoved in hard, and the pain was unbearable.  Her

body bucked and writhed under him.  He kept thrusting in and out

of her tight ass until she started to beg for him to stop.  He

laughed and pushed in harder and faster, grinding into her

delicate ass until he finally came.  Then he pulled out and left

the room, leaving her tied to the bed.  Janie cried herself into

exhaustion, and soon fell asleep.

     It was dark when she was shaken awake by a dark servant

girl.  There were five of them surrounding the bed where she lay

bound.  They untied her, and led her into a bathing room where

they proceeded to wash the blood and semen from her naked body,

muttering in a language Janie could not understand, as they

gently soaped her wounds.  After the bath, she was dried,

powdered, and perfumed once again.  Then she was instructed to

put on some silk clothes that barely covered her chest and her

crotch and ass.  A leash was attached to the chain collar around

her neck, and she was led out and down a dark corridor to a

larger room.  There, lounging in a pile of cushions, was the

hated Hassan.  He smiled when he saw them enter.

     "Oh good!  You are ready before my guests have arrived."

     He dismissed the servant girls, then led Janie out into the

garden.  It was beautiful, and so large.  The fresh delicate

scents of flowers wafted to her nose on the breeze.  Most of the

Garden looked like a large forest, with a tangle of trees and

bushes.  There was also an exquisitely sculpted swimming pool,

shaped like a swan.  The pool was lit, casting an eerie blue

light across the rows of exotic flowers and plants surrounding

it.  Everywhere, hanging from the branches of trees were little

lanterns, and lamps.  Janie sighed at the beauty.

     "You like our garden, eh? Well, go out and explore it.  Seek

out some good hiding places while you have the chance." Hassan

said, removing the leash from her chain.

     "Hiding places?" Janie asked, suddenly feeling a chill move

up her spine.

     Hassan laughed, "Yes, we are going to play a little game at

my party tonight.  We will be the hunters, and you will be the

prey.  Ah, I hear the door gong sounding.  My guests are

arriving.  Better hurry up."

     With that, Hassan turned and walked back inside.  Janie took

a deep breath and stared wild eyed around her.  The garden was no

longer delightful.  She was about to be hunted like a wild

animal, and she didn't want to even think of what they'd do to

her once they caught her.  She started to run towards the thick

trees.