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*** Chapter 7 : Served.

 

It was as though my wife was uncertain as what to do. For a few minutes she walked around me as if trying to decide what she wanted from this raw piece of meat that had been her husband.

I waited.

I felt the tip of the crop touch my back as if testing to see if I would flinch. I felt it move over my skin, testing the long bruise that had been given to me in my cell.

Dominique sat on the edge of the bed and looked at what I had become. Limbs cropped to the elbows and knees. A mouth bare of teeth and a cock which had grown under the skilful surgeons’ knife to become nothing less than a monster, a mighty ram that promised much but had never been put to use.

She opened her legs.

I could not presume and waited.

I dared not hope that she would prove to be a better mistress than those that I had left behind. But, I was eager to please her, I was in her elegant hands.

I was right not to presume!

Her hand slipped to her moist slit and began that circular motion that I had seen so often before. The finding of rhythm and timing that preceded a serious frigging.

She worked herself to a small high and allowed it to diminish.

Dominique had always had an assertive streak. In bed I had foolishly encouraged her to be the maker of the patterns of our sex, she had always enjoyed being on top, the arbiter of pleasure. Now, after the intervening months of indoctrination by Ra’fah she had flowered to become a truly uncompromising mistress.

A user and consumer, a natural queen and empress.

She fetched a dildo and began to fuck herself in front of me. All the while her confidence grew as she got used to the strange being that had been her husband.

My malformed presence excited her.

It was the expression of her new found-love to command.

Every move was made, every plunge of the rubber prick, every kiss of a fingertip on her emerging clitoris with her eyes feasting on me. Between gasps of exhilaration she ordered me about the room so that she could inspect every angle of my shame.

Finally she had me balance on the back of my thighs so that she could enjoy the sight of my unfulfilled erection that almost reached the place where my nipples had perched on my chest.

Her breaths shortened to a panting climax as she touched that yearning prick with the evil sharp points of her shoes and tickled the bursting shiny skin that capped its monstrous bulk.

I felt a sudden feeling that was so alien to me that I did not at first realise that the sharp heel that was cutting into my flesh was bringing me to climax.

“Fucking suck it, fuck-pig, I need to see you fuck yourself,” she cried as she surfed on waves of climax and power. “Make it come for me! Suck that fucking monster-prick.”

I lowered my head and did what I had been so often tempted to do but had always resisted because I knew that the punishment would be castration.

I opened my mouth and sucked in that huge cock with strong lips. Her shoe gouged me as I used the beads that had been implanted in my tongue to bring on my own orgasm.

Only at her command.

That was the unspoken rule.

With Dominique, rules were to be obeyed.

The dildo plunged in and out of her raw cunt as I worked myself to the point of coming. The matt black shape became gloss with the juices of her excitement as it thrust deep into her flesh.

I became absorbed by that rubber object that filled her to the brim with lust and uncontrollable desire. It symbolised her strength. No longer was she dependant on a male lover, Dominique had discovered that the best way to the nirvana of ecstasy was the assertion of power and self gratification.

The wet rubber prick slid out, pulling the lips of her cunt with it as they tightly encircled its girth. It seemed to my glazed eyes that her flesh had become part of the rubber until it pushed back into the hole between her thighs leaving just an inch for her to clutch as she withdrew in a new motion.

My own prick of flesh stood like the trunk of a tree.

My lips just sufficed to take in the shiny glans, my tongue fought to reach the tender fraenum between rod and tip and massage it to a peak of sensitivity. My straining prick bore the scars of punishment and surgery that had been forgotten in the miasma of my excitement.

All else was forgotten but the overwhelming sight of Dominique in extreme heat and the reawakening of nerves that had not pulsed for months.

Suddenly I was there; that delirious place that had been banned for months.

I felt a spurt of my come fountain into my mouth and touch the back of my throat. It was not a moment of loathing and disgust. I had sucked so very many cocks to completion in the last months of my imprisonment.

It was a moment of achievement.

“Show me,” she ordered. “I want to see that you have come for me!”

I opened my mouth and allowed the liquid to run over my tongue as Dominique came. Then the sharp heel pushed into me and I fell backwards.

I swallowed but my prick had not finished its moment of glory. It pumped more slick white come in spurts that never seemed to finish.

Each spurt fought free to splash free.

My chest, the carpet, the patent leather shoes of my goddess.

All were splattered with the greasy goo.

I lay panting on the floor. A beetle struggling on its back, unable to turn face down unless I could find purchase. Vulnerable and fully exposed I was an obvious target for her rage.

The caning was terrible!

It criss crossed me with stripes of agony that never seemed to end.

Dominique plied the cane with a cold fury that left no part of me untouched. Just twenty stripes but they found every sensitive spot, from balls to my cheeks.

At each stroke she demanded that I squeak for her.

“I want to hear you grunt, fuck-pig. I want you to count the strokes in squeals you shit. How dare you not swallow every drop of your detestable juice?”

The unreasonable diatribe continued.

“I’ll have your fucking balls cut off. Then you won’t mess up my bedroom again like this. With a fucking emasculator too, bitch. I’ll do it my-fucking-self.”

At last the tirade and the whipping was over and I managed to turn over to allow me to lick up all the mess that I had made in the hope that it would soften her just a little.

But the sight of me lapping up my own come and the marks from the caning excited her again and she reached for the dildo. As I tasted my recent climax she found a new height to be reached by watching me degrade myself.

It was cold, out of my body for just minutes and it was bitter.

 

*** Chapter 8 : Eaten.

Ra’fah stood haloed by the light that burst in from the beautiful garden that spread in a lush foliage of palms and cactus. I could see how the sun shone through the triangle at the tops of her thighs. One of her hands absently stroked a cheek of her ass and then cupped her breast.

“Dominique, you really must not get so sentimental,” she said to my wife.

Dominique was sitting on the bed with the soles of her feet pressed together. It exposed her cunt and stretched it wide, exposing the jewellery that glittered amongst the matrix of its folds.

The glistening pearls of dew that were all that remained of their lovemaking were dripping to the coverlet, spreading scented patches on the silk.

“It is not sentimentality, my dear Ra’fah,” said Dominique lazily. “I like my little husband, he is such a comfort when you are not there. He is such a help when I am angry at the world and need to expend my frustrations at his expense. Fuck-pig’s little squeals of pain and pleasure amuse me at the moment. Every new pain makes him more devoted and dependent on my whim.”

“I just want you for myself. I do not want to share you with this object!”

Ra’fah pointed at the gilded cage where I was imprisoned with a manicured nail. I hung my head but I still listened avidly to the two women who, it seemed, were deciding my fate.

“You are just jealous that he has bigger breasts than you!”

“Not at all! I love what you have done to him in the last year. He has become a perfect expression of your ability to imagine the impossible. You have improved what I thought was perfection. I just think that it’s time to move on. Time to find a new focus for your energy.”

Dominique’s hand slipped to that gaping hole that was the entry to her soul. For a moment the fingers massaged the outer lips before her forefinger slipped into that maw, that entrance to the underworld.

“How much money have we made together in the last two years?” asked Dominique.

The question was followed by a small gasp as she found a certain spot inside herself with the tip of her finger.

“Mmm, just roughly, ten million dollars American,” came the reply from Ra’fah.

“And how many men have come to Burkina Faso freely and left less willingly after a bout of intense training in your hands?”

“A hundred and fifty men and about fifty women.”

Dominique sighed. Now she was massaging her clitoris and teasing the rings that pieced the hood that normally covered that small bud of flesh.

Ra’fah turned from the view of the garden to watch her lover bring herself to orgasm with a business report on their partnership. Dominique was clearly making a point in her usual roundabout way. When she got to her conclusion her line of reasoning would become clear and probably unassailable.

“That is eight times what you made before I came here with little fuck-pig here,” gasped Dominique.

“You are right. I could search a thousand years and never find another partner like you! Money, sex, deviousness and innocent charm all rolled into one pretty little package. No wonder that men cannot resist your charms and follow you here to Ouagadougou.”

“Well it was your idea, the Service League of African Vocational Evangelical Sciences!” Ra’fah laughed as she remembered creating the name of the acronym and then filling in all the words. “That brought fifteen missionaries here, all such nice young men. They were such a good group of attractive slaves.”

“And so innocent of all sin!” laughed Dominique as she remembered the auction that had raised nearly fifteen million in one go. arab men have always had a soft spot for virgins!”

Dominique climaxed as she remembered the tears and protestations as all those tender men were trained in the arts of pleasing other men.

There was a moment’s pause while she regained her breath. Her hand still idly played with her pussy as she stilled her gasping, but now I could see that it was just the languorous enjoyment of all those rings and jewels that adorned her smooth and hairless flesh.

“So what to do with fuck-pig?”

Ra’fah was still wanting to resolve her predicament. I was the last reminder of life before Ra’fah. I was a distraction to the business of making money from enslavement.

A distraction from ardour.

Dominique looked at me and winked. It was the first friendly signal that I had seen her give since I had climbed into the white van at the airport.

My heart leapt in hope.

Perhaps she was going to keep me, resist the pressure to rid herself of my presence. With my head hanging I could see what my wife had done to me. The breasts hung to the floor, huge and embedded with the bells and rings that she had personally adorned me with. Marks of a branding iron made a tasteful lacy pattern on the remains of my limbs and the studs that had been embedded in my cock ensured that every stroke of a hand on my prick would bring both pleasure and pain to her little fuck-pig.

Even so, I knew that I had to be with her.

I had to gratify her lust.

I had to please her.

I had fallen far.

The wink was just a red herring. Dominique massaged herself as she sat up. Her other hand cupped her breasts for a moment as she carefully decided what she was going to announce. While she spoke she looked at me and not Ra’fah.

She wanted to see my final reaction to her announcement.

“I thought then it might be nice if little George here, fuck-pig, was deaf as well as mute. But, then it occurred to me that he needs to be able to follow orders and that I would be putting myself at some considerable inconvenience by doing that.”

Ra’fah came and sat next to Dominique on the bed. Her eyes strayed to the hand that was ploughing that tender furrow.

“So what did you decide?”

“I have managed to contact some Americans who are doing the same sort of business as us. These women have thirty years of experience on the west coast, near New York. I was going to invite three of them over, if you agree of course!”

“Why should we involve ourselves with these Americans?”

“Because they offer us a chance to sell services and slaves to them.”

“Services?”

“We have much more freedom of action here in Ouagadougou than they have in New York. We have the access to the Arab markets and the Africans. They offer us a market full of very rich people who are looking for a luxury product.”

“And, what does your husband have to do with this?”

“We need to show our American visitors how we conduct our business. Most of all how we can sell their merchandise. When they are here, we will hold an auction...”

Ra’fah drew a sharp breath as she realised where this was leading.

“The last item on the auctioneer’s catalogue is...”

“My wrecked husband! Exactly! When they see how far we go, when they understand that we can provide a service that is more extreme, more intense and more bizarre than they can, they will be falling over themselves to do business with us. When he arrives before the bidders; there will be a frenzy of bidding, because he is so unique and hopefully we will shock even the hardnosed Americans!”

Ra’fah leaned forward and pressed her lips against my wife’s. I saw a flicker of tongue and a flash of teeth as she tumbled Dominique over the coverlets.

I watched as they made love, ebony and ivory in mutual adoration.

When the frenzy of passion had ended they lay silent on the bed for what seemed like hours.

Finally Dominique left the room leaving me with Ra’fah.

 

*** Chapter 9 : Bones and Skin.

“So the story ends!” she said to me as she approached my cage.

All I could feel was intense fear as she approached. Had she decided to do away with me? Were these my final moments?

She squatted by the cage. Legs splayed I could see her pussy with its clipped bush of pubic hair that had been braided into stranded plaits. Still damp from Dominique’s lips and tongue, it pouted at me inviting me to long to be swallowed by its ravenous hunger.

“Finally Dominique has decided to rid herself of her distraction. Then she will be all for me! The last link to husband, marriage and the past will be severed. But, that leaves a small problem doesn’t it?”

I looked into her eyes.

All I could see was a well of malevolence that descended into the pain of others.

The door opened and Dominique entered. She saw that her lover was talking with her slave and knelt casually on the carpet to join the conversation.

“I was just telling George here about the facts of life. Or at least the further facts of his life to come in our care!”

Dominique smiled and reached out to stroke the naked skin of my cranium as if I were a dog or a cat that needed reassurance.

“Yes, George,” she said with a small sigh. “As you heard we are about to have a parting of the ways. You will be bought by someone who will look after you and I will be the richer by half the purchase price. I have a lot to thank you for, George and I would not want you to think that I am ungrateful for all that assistance.”

She ran her hand over the small holes that were all that was left of my ears.

“When you suck at my cunt they are not very comfortable for me, so it is best that we remove them for my own satisfaction,” she had said at the end of one very long night of abuse.

Ra’fah put her hand on Dominique’s shoulder.

“It was you, George, that got Dominique into all that vanilla BDSM stuff all those years ago, so it is really not surprising that she has followed the path to the bitter end with you as her plaything,” she said.

Dominique kissed her lover but allowed her hand to stray to my prick. The clench of her grip was both exquisite pleasure and exquisite agony.

“So at the end of it all, as Ra’fah said earlier, there is a small problem to resolve!”

“You just know too much of all our affairs,” said Ra’fah.

“So we have to make sure that you do not talk to anyone about our business. Now, how are we going to do that?”

Dominique paused her speech as her hand slid the length of my cock. The beads under the skin were uncomfortable but her touch was sure. Her arm built up speed until I was at the point of climax.

As I had been trained I shook my head to signal that I was nearly at the point of eruption.

The hand stopped.

As it so often did.

It left me on a high of sexual need, a place where I would withstand any punishment, abuse or cruelty to climax. The callousness that would follow would just make me even more desperate to serve, in the slight hope that Dominique would grant me release.

“It’s got to be permanent!” said Ra’fah.

“It will be. The operation is tomorrow and then poor little George will lose his memory.”

“Can we be sure?”

My wife smiled and put a finger to her lips.

“We can be sure!” whispered my wife with a smile of sheer contentment.

 

**** Pdf books of Miss Irene Clearmon you can find here (usually we not posting links, but exception for very good story.) Contact author at: MissIreneClearmont at Yahoo dot Com, most e-mails get a reply.