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For James
Chapter 1
By Incomplete
Synopsis: A young pretty Asian wife falls into the hands of several sadists
but must endure it for the sake of her husband.
Story Codes: M/f slavery real reluctant humiliation Serious
Disclaimer: Story contains themes of rough non-consensual sex, bondage
and S&M,
and is not intended for minors. All characters in the story as well as events
are fictional. This is merely a creative, erotic piece for your enjoyment.
The desert stretched endlessly on this lonely stretch of highway. By the
wayside parked a luxury sedan that looked out of place amongst such a
desolated
land. Inside, in a thin white Sunday dress, that fell modestly to her knees,
Jeannie Lee sat uncomfortably about. The heat was easy to deal with, since
the
air condition was running at the maximum.
She was worried about her husband. It had been over an hour since he left.
Why
did the car have to die? They had only bought it little over a month ago, and
that's why they had this absurd idea of driving it on their trip to Mexico.
Now
it was sitting there, like a black metallic rock against the maroon landscape.
Every half hour a car or two would drive by. She had already counted two or
three. Did it take that long to walk to town? She had wished many things at
the moment, like having the car suddenly startup spontaneously, or that they
could get reception for their cell phones, to call out for assistance. Unable
to wait any longer, Jeannie thought it better that she burned off some anxious
energy, walking in her husband's footsteps.
As she was about to leave the comfort of her car, a large pickup truck pulled
up ahead of her. Before she even realized it, a man was knocking on her
window.
She fumbled for the button a little before lowering it.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Jeannie? James told us to come get you and tow the vehicle into town," said
the man with a slight Mid-Western accent.
"Oh, sure. Thanks," Jeannie replied, and opened the door. The man stepped
back
to let her out.
"And you are?" she asked.
"Taylor, and that's Scooter," the man said, pointing behind her to the other
man.
"Nice to meet you ma'am," another voice boomed from behind her. Shocked,
she
quickly turned around.
"I'll just grab my purse from the car," she said, as she went back to the car.
The men told her to wait for them in the truck, while they hooked up her car
to their truck. As she got into the pickup, she was relieved to be saved. She
wanted to ask them where James was, but seeing how crowded the front seat
was,
she thought that he might be at the shop waiting for her. The doors opened
and
both Taylor and Scooter slid into the seat, sitting on either side of her.
* * * *
Sitting to Jeannie's right in the passenger's seat, Scooter had it best. He
didn't have to pay attention to the road, and could focus on her. Despite the
blazing heat, she still smelled amazingly fresh. Her long black hair fell a
little past her shoulders, and her small nose and almond shaped eyes were
beautifully set on a heart shaped face. Though he couldn't tell how tall she
was while sitting, he had paid particular attention to her as she walked past
them on her way to the truck. Five-five, maybe a hundred and five pounds.
He stole a glance down at her legs. Only her calves were visible, and they
were well toned. It was unfortunate that he couldn't see more, at least for
now, he chuckled to himself.
"What do you do?" Taylor asked.
"Excuse me?" Jeannie replied.
"Job-wise," he clarified.
"I am a research scientist."
"How long have you two been married?"
"A little over a year," she answered with a coy smile. Every time the thought
of her husband came up, she would involuntarily smile.
"He's a great guy, even though we just met," laughed Taylor, "So were you
guys
going to Mexico?"
Before she could continue the small chatter, they arrived at a small run down
garage. While the men went to work getting the car unhooked, Jeannie exited
and walked around looking for James. An elderly man with graying hair and
beard,
and a rather large belly sat in an office sipping beer. He stole a glance at
her. She made eye contact and walked towards him. "Have you seen James,
an
Asian man."
"James, yeah. He went to the corner store about a five minute walk from
here.
Probably wanted to get some orange juice."
Though she wanted to see James, hearing this she felt more at ease. Orange
juice was her favorite drink, and she had mentioned to her husband to bring
her back some, if he found a grocer on his way.
The three men, despite being friendly, made her felt uncomfortable. They
were
all much bigger than she was. Taylor was about six feet, tall and lanky. His
elongated, sun dried face always held a mischievous smile. Scooter, while a
few inches shorter, was obese. Everything about him was rotund. He didn't
talk
much, and that made her really feel uneasy. The same feeling she had now
standing in front of this old man. On the walls were various pinup posters of
nude women, and his hands were hidden under below the top of the desk.
She stammered, "I'll go check on Taylor," and quickly left. She found the
two
men under the hood yanking and pulling away at the parts. Dismayed she
went up
to them and asked, "What's wrong? The car is virtually brand new."
"Nah, lots of bad parts. It's a mess," replied Taylor.
"What are you doing?!" she shouted, as Scooter looked like he was
attempting
to remove a tire. "There's nothing wrong there!" Quickly she thought that
these
people must be trying to pull a con on James and her. This probably happens
a
lot in desolated places, a natural monopoly. "It's okay. Just stop. We'll pay
for the towing and we'll find someone else in town," she added.
Taylor looked up with a grin that scared her. He started to approach her,
while
saying, "We're the only ones working. Plus, we've already started."
She suddenly found herself backed up against her own car, with Taylor
standing
right in her face. "James will be back soon. He told me to take care of you in
the meanwhile," smiling as he said it.
Jeannie felt his hands grab her waist, slowly moving downward. She pushed
him
away and started to stammer out, not knowing where else to go except to
find
James. Scooter blocked her way with his wide frame.
"Let her go," cried the old man from his office. "If the bitch wants to be a
widow, that's fine."
"W-what do you mean?" Jeannie turned wide-eyed around. The old man
slowly
walked towards her with a few pictures in his hands. She couldn't make out
what, nor did she want to. Her legs started to grow weak, and her heart beat
rose, pounding endlessly against her chest.
He threw the pictures onto the hood of the trunk. They were pictures of
James,
except he was unconscious and tied up. In one of them, a gun was pointed to
his head. In another, a cruel looking Scooter held a chainsaw above his body
with Taylor posing with another one of his smirks. They were too much.
"Where is he?!?!" she demanded.
"If you play nice, he'll be safe," said Taylor.
"I'll go to the bank ..." she started to say
"No," said the old man. "That's not what we want." He put his hand up,
touching her cheek. She reflexively flinched back. Upset, he shouted, "Go!"
Jeannie turned around and was about to run. To the police, she thought. "Oh,
take a look at this picture too, before you go," said the old man. She turned
back around and saw the photo in his hand. Jeannie turned ghastly pale.
It was James again, still unconscious, in a trunk. However, it wasn't the
trunk of any car, but that of a patrolman's car. Posing beside it was an
officer with a curly mustache and the same demented smile.
* * * * * * *
The young twenty-six year old Asian girl sat uncomfortably on the sofa
inside
the office. All her neurons were firing, and it was almost impossible for her
to concentrate. The only thing that was clear, was the image of James. He
was
in danger.
"Bitch, do you hear me!" yelled the old man, startling Jeannie back into
the present. "You can still go if you want. Do you want to go?" he asked.
"No," she mumbled.
"Good. If you stay, then you listen to us. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she said.
"She's a smart girl. Fast learner," commented Taylor, condescendingly
patting
her on her head as he spoke.
"Chink whores are naturally submissive. Makes for a fine bitch," spat
Scooter.
Jeannie shuddered at the anger in his words. Had James offended him?
"Stand up," commanded the old man.
"Strip!"
Tears welled up in her eyes as her face turned crimson. "And everything
goes,
not one ounce of thread left on you," the old man added.
Slowly, she complied. Jeannie didn't want to be there, and hoped desperately
that this was a nightmare, but she knew too well that this wasn't to be. The
pain was too real, and so was the fear. She was a virgin until she married
James, and had never contemplated leaving him or cheating on him. Yet,
here
she was, dishonoring him.
"Not much pubes. B-cup," Scooter commented, as he palmed her breast. She
quickly withdrew and slapped him. He slapped her back. Even in her
terrorized
state, she tried to maintain some dignity.
"You can put your clothes on and go," calmly said the old man.
Jeannie shook her head. She needed to stay. The consequences had been
explained
to her.
Grabbing her hair, Scooter yanked her up. His hands cruelly gripped her
breasts.
She tried to raise her hand, but he whispered, "Keep your hands at your
sides."
and she lowered them in defeat.
"That's enough," said the old man. He glanced at her naked body. She had a
healthy golden tone. He wondered why they call them "yellow." The B-cups
fit
her lithe frame perfectly, and her nice long legs were toned from thigh to
calf. Her ass was shapely as well.
"Put your clothes back on." he said.
As much as she wanted to, she didn't dare. "Whore likes being naked," said
Scooter as he swatted her naked ass and gripped it angrily.
"Don't worry, Uncle Billy will keep you. We like you," said Taylor, and
smiled.
She quickly put her clothes back on. When she was done, she was shocked to
find Scooter standing by her side with a pair of scissors.
"It's okay," said Uncle Billy. "Don't move unless you want to get hurt. He's
just redesigning your dress."
As he said that, Scooter cut around the base of the dress, shortening it to
expose her more. He put his hands on her smooth legs and running over
them,
feeling her up from her tiny ankles all the way to her inner thighs. She
wanted
to run and hide, but she stood there frozen. She was afraid to move, afraid to
scream, afraid to do anything that these men didn't approve of.
He finished by cutting two slits up either on side of her legs, until bits of
her underwear showed. On the top, he gave her conservative dress a plunging
neckline. Uncle Billy went to one of the lockers and pulled out a matching
white pair of shoes, with four inch stiletto high heels. It was much higher
than the ones that she was used to, and she knew that she would soon be
donning them. He placed them on the desk in front of him.
"Whore's shoes," he said, "Just like the ones they wear," pointing to the
numerous nude women in the posters that adorned the room. "Put them on,
and
boys, you may leave the room."
Turning back to her, he calmly asked, "Do you know what you are here for?"
"I want to see James safe," she whispered.
The old man smiled. "Yes, but to get something, you must give something.
Are
you a slut?"
"No!" Jeannie vehemently denied the abrupt comment.
"You never fantasized about other men?"
"Well, you're going to now. You'll have to, to get through this," he said,
calmly looking at her. "I'm going to make you my slut."
Jeannie looked at the man. He was insane. This was impossible. Rape had
long
entered her mind. To her, that was now inevitable, but to have her accept
such
a degrading role was beyond her.
The old man moved closer to her and started to kiss her. She let his tongue
enter her mouth, but did nothing in return. She closed her eyes, as she felt
his hands lowering her panties. She waited for the inevitable penetration, but
it never came, and she felt him walk away from her.
She heard him on the phone. "Uh-huh ..yeah ..The fucking bitch is here. ...
Yeah come on over later .. I'm putting you on speaker phone."
A loud muffled voice could be heard. It sounded like someone in extreme
pain.
Jeannie recognized the voice immediately, and lunged at the phone, but
before
she could say anything, Uncle Billy had cut off the call. He looked at her and
smiled. A small rivulet of tears ran down her cheeks.
"Kiss me," said the old man.
Jeanne complied. Locking her soft lips against his rough chapped ones. Her
tongue responded this time. She hated the beard prickling and hurting her
soft,
smooth skin, but she couldn't withdraw. After a long while, he pushed her
away.
"On your knees." he demanded.
She obeyed. He walked up to her, jamming his crotch into her face. A
repugnant
odor overwhelmed her. He grabbed the back of her head and mashed it
harder
into his crotch.
"What do you think?" he laughed.
She just looked up at him as he rested on the table. "Do you know what you
are
here for?" he asked again.
There was silence. He waited. There was no need to hurry. "To be your slut,"
she whimpered amidst her sobs.
"Huh?" he said, pretending not to hear. The defeat must be complete.
"To be your slut," she said, louder this time.
"Then you should know what to do," he said, resting further back on the
table,
splaying his legs wide open.
She scuttered forward on her knees to where he was. He slapped her but not
too
hard. He didn't want her bloody, while she was sucking him, but he made
sure
that it was enough to hurt.
Slowly she reached up to unzip his fly. She's smart, he thought to himself.
His penis was erect already. Ever since the military days of being stationed
in Asia, he had a fetish for Asian women. Now this gorgeous Asian girl
kneeling
in front of him was too much. She was his for as long as he wanted. She took
out his prick. He looked at her to see what she was going to do. She slowly
parted her lips. Abruptly he slapped her again.
"Did I say that you could suck my dick, bitch? You're a real cock-sucker
huh?"
She openly sobbed now. He ignored her, leaning back, he opened a drawer
and
took out a rubber band. He threw it at her. "Tie up your hair. I want to see
your face when you're sucking me."
She quickly did as she was told. Wiping away her tears, she gently held his
prick in her soft little hand, and waited for his command. "Slap yourself," he
said.
She looked at him quizzically, and then using her free hand, she started to
hit her cheek.
"No, bitch. You really are a dumb one." he said, and so she stopped, still
puzzled by the new order. He replaced her hands with his, and pulled his
cock
to one side of her, and then swung it, hitting her in her face with it. She
winced, in pain and humiliation. "That's how you do it. Now you do it."
Blushing, she held the man's prick, and hit herself. Once, twice, and kept
doing it for what seemed like an eternity. Her face was now soaked, and that
annoyed the old man. "A bitch needs a good cock slapping sometime. Bet
your
James didn't do that?"
He was right. James loved her and would never do this to her. Her face was
now
red from hitting herself with his prick. He motioned for her, like a man
would
to his dog, to come back. She obediently did. She horribly wanted to get this
ordeal over with. She once again held his cock in her hands, and was about
to
proceed the humiliating task of slapping herself in the face, when she saw
him
shake his head disapprovingly.
"I know that you love my cock, but it's hurting now. Soothe it. Rub it over
your face." he demanded.
Again, she did as he requested. Caressing her soft silky skin against this
monster's prick. She could feel the pre-cum dribble onto her face. Her eyes
watered up, but she was afraid to cry.
He was in heaven, but he had to go soon, and had to end this. "We don't have
all day. Get on with it."
She gave a sigh of relief, even though the new task was far from enviable.
She
lifted his shaft, and was about to wrap her lips around it, when he grabbed
her
head backwards by the hair and said, "You don't just suck a cock when you
feel
like it bitch. Ask for permission. Say 'May I suck your cock sir?'" he said,
slowly and insultingly, and then made her repeat it several times, adding
more
descriptions each time. Finally he settled for one, and made her repeat that
one with her pleading eyes starring up into his merciless ones.
"May this worthless slut attempt to suck your cock. This slut promises to
make
it good for you. Please, she needs your cock in her mouth so badly," she
pleaded.
He finally assented, and felt her warm lips slowly envelope his dick. Her
tongue darted under and over his prick. She was an amateur, but he didn't
mind
yet. A prim and proper one was always fun. He would think of many ways to
degrade her. He stared down into her beautiful face. Her cheeks sunk in as
she
was trying desperately to suck his cock. The rubberband was a good idea. He
rested her feet on her small shoulders, making it even more uncomfortable
for
her. Crossing his feet behind her, he pulled her in, until she had all nine
inches of his dick down her throat. He wanted to cum.
Quickly he withdrew and shouted, "Don't you move!" as he came all over her
face.
* * * * * *
Taylor and Scooter were outside finishing up. It was a long day, but a great
one. Unexpectedly, they had found a great catch. They would have lots of
fun
with the bitch. Taylor knew that Scooter wanted her badly. He caught him
looking at the direction of the office several times.
Slowly, the office door opened, and Uncle Billy walked out with a big grin.
He shifted his package and said, "Ready to close up the shop boys?"
"Yeah," replied Scooter, licking his lips. "I'll get the van."
Taylor hadn't seen Scooter so animated in a long while. In a flash, the heavy
set man was gone. Jeannie timidly walked out of the office, baited by Uncle
Billy's incessant insults. "Don't be so shy bitch. By definition, a slut can
never be shy?"
She walked out with her head down, trying desperately to avoid eye contact.
Taylor saw that her face was plastered with semen, dangling from her chin
and
some had even dropped onto her chest and dress. She had made no effort to
wipe
it off. Her cheek bones showed more prominently with her hair tied back,
and
made her look even more aristocratic and classy, despite the vulgar deposits
that his uncle had made.
"Come sit on daddy's lap while we wait," Uncle Billy said, motioning for the
girl. She walked gingerly over to him and sat down on his lap.
She reeked of his semen, and he loved it. "What do you think? Do you like
being
my slut?"
"Y-y-yes," she stuttered. "Whe-r-e's ...."
But before she could finish, he hushed her up. He was now running his hands
up
and down her smooth silky legs. She could feel his erection under her butt,
but didn't dare to move away. A van pulled up to the front, and Scooter
exited
the cab. He was shocked to see Jeannie sitting on his Uncle's lap, with semen
all over her face. "Whore," he mumbled under his breathe.
* * * * * * *
They had blindfolded her for the ride, and she had no idea where they were
now,
except that it probably was pretty far away, considering how long they had
driven. The trip was horrible. The semen from that old man offended her
senses,
not to mention itching and burning her skin. She wasn't allowed to wash it
off.
Her hands were handcuffed uncomfortably behind her.
She sat in the back with Scooter, and he had complete access to her body.
Like
his uncle, he was a brute. All of them were. He constantly felt her up and
pinched her most private and sensitive area. When the semen on her face
finally dried into a thin sticky mask, he forced her to perform oral sex on
him.
Again, she was made to beg. To tell the men how she badly she needed to
have
the cock in her mouth. Her technique, or there lack of, was criticized, and
she burned with shame. She wanted to die, but they had the trump card. Even
if
it meant living in hell, like it was now, being constantly tormented by these
goons, she would do it to protect her husband's life.
When Scooter was tired of her, they talked openly about their sexual
fantasies
and other perversions that they would soon have her performing. She, of
course,
had to join in the conversation, and act eager and willing to do these
disgusting things, describing in minute detail about acts which she knew
nothing about, except that it pleased the men with whom her life, and that of
her husband's lie.
After what seemed like hours, they finally took off her blindfold. She was on
a ranch, surrounded by miles of isolated prairie. Scooter grabbed her by her
hair, and led her backwards into their house. Once inside, she knew that her
nightmare had just gotten worse.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
She was now naked, except for the high heels, and knelt in the center of a
very
large living room. Neatly folded beside her, was a ridiculous maid's uniform,
even though her petite frame was too big for it. It was meant to degrade her
more than cover her body. Even that small relief was denied her though.
As soon as she tried it on, they made her take it off. The men went about
doing their things, while she knelt there, thinking and crying. She had felt
like she had betrayed her husband, even though she knew that this wasn't the
case. More than that, she felt dirty and unworthy of his love anymore.
"Hey bitch," spat Scooter. He was amused when she responded. All three of
them
were there, sitting on the couch watching her.
"Since you're living with us now, you have to follow our rules. Especially
since you're Uncle Bill's slut," said Taylor.
He continued, "As with all families, there are rules. People and things have
to know their places. The hierarchy here is, Uncle Billy, then me and
Scooter,
then Pepper and Shadow."
Seeing her look up surprised, he explained, "Pepper and Shadow are our
Dobermans. They protect us, and in return, we give them food, shelter, and
even special privileges."
As he said those last words, his eyes sparkled, and he flashed that same
whicked smile. She didn't want to hear the rest of it.
"Naturally, you'll obey all of those above you, since you're at the bottom. So
if you're eating out of your bitch bowl, and one of your males comes, you
have
to let him have it."
Jeannie shuddered at the thought of having to share anything with those
dogs.
She felt goose-bumps suddenly pop up all over her body. These men are
truly
insane!
"Your purpose should be clear by now. You fuck, suck, clean, and anything
else
that we think that you can do, you shall. You will address us as sirs, and any
guests that come over will also be addressed as sirs as well. Also, we expect
our sluts to work for a living. That means, fucking for a living. Every
weekend,
we'll take you ... " he started to say before Jeannie screamed, "NOOOOO!"
This
was getting to be too much for her. To be raped by these men was enough,
but
now she was going to have to prostitute herself as well?
"Please, I have money. Don't make me, please. Let my husband go. I'll be
good,
I ..."
"Be good?!" Scooter cut her off. "You just said no. What about obedience?
As
to your husband, from the looks of it, he'll be dead by tomorrow, considering
what a fucking dumb bitch he married."
A soft "please" was all she could mustered.
"Listen, Officer Berg will be dropping by tonight. He has a special gift for
you. A videotape of your husband to be exact. If you are nice and obedient,
you'll get such gifts every other week, maybe even weekly."
Jeannie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was it really possible for
these people to confine her and her husband indefinitely?
"What do you think?" interjected Uncle Billy. "You said that you liked being
my slut. Plus we need money."
"I can get a job," she said.
"Fucking is your job!" said Scooter. "God, are you ever stupid."
"Asian whores like you are exotic here. You'll bring in good money," added
Taylor.
"Fifteen to twenty men a night. Friday through Sunday. Money for us, cocks
for
you. It's a good thing for us all. What do you think?" he asked.
She looked up into his eyes. They were angry and determined. There was no
way
to win. They wanted her to be a prostitute for their perverse fancies.
"Whatever you want," she said in defeat.
"Good. Then it's decided then. But before that, we need to train you. We
don't
want to mar my good name, and embarrass myself with a lame assed cock
sucker.
A slut like you won't mind, but we do. So to help you out, we'll train you too.
What you say to that?"
Jeannie sat there dumbfounded. Never in her entire life had she ever felt as
miserable as she did right now. Suddenly she heard a loud snap, and before
she
could register the sound, a sharp shearing pain in her left shoulder woke her
up from her thoughts. "AHHhhhhhh," she screamed.
"Say thank you bitch," said Scooter, holding a small riding crop in his hands.
"Thank you," Jeannie quickly mumbled.
"I'm not too sure that she understands what her job is to be boys," said Uncle
Billy. "Here, let her husband tell her," he said, holding the earpiece to the
phone by her ear. Again, she could hear the muffled cries of a male voice.
She
hoped that it wasn't her husband, but knew that it was. She was certain. She
tried to say something, but the line was quickly cut off.
"So, tell us what you have learned so far. Start with what you are, and what
your duties are."
Jeannie took in a deep breathe. Her duties were long, and she needed to calm
herself down before uttering the previously unimaginable.
"Be descriptive, so that we know that you understand. Otherwise, we might
need
to call again."
Jeannie understood the threat, and began, "I am your slut. Here I am on the
bottom of the hierarchy. I am to follow all of your orders. I will suck, fuck,
clean, and do anything and everything else asked for. I shall show respect to
my superiors. I will not take advantage of your generosity, and I will earn my
keep by working as a prostitute."
"A whore," corrected Taylor.
"A whore," she repeated.
"Whose whore?" asked Uncle Billy.
"Yours," the captive girl said dejectedly.
"Say it once more," cooed the old man. "In full sentence."
"I am your whore," she said, as she buried her head into her small hands and
sobbed, as the men around her laughed.
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