Purveyors of Pain

PURVEYORS OF PAIN.
A torture story by Susan.

This is fantasy for adults. Doing anything like the acts featured in these stories would be insane and unforgivable, but in the mind, terror can be fun…fun that includes wild, disgusting, savage cruelty, insane torture and deaths.
This is for those who like to read of women in agony beyond imagining, dying slowly for the perverted pleasure of their killers.
Unless you enjoy such themes, please do not read further.

CHAPTER ONE. … Meet Karl and Samantha.

I.slipped my hand between my legs and had to do a little re-adjustment to the fabric of my panties where it had become rather wet and uncomfortable. The man with the whip smiled at me.
"You like what you see, Madame?"
I nodded. With my rather flushed face and the cloying perfume of arousal that wafted from beneath the tiny leather skirt I was wearing, there seemed little point in denying it.
My part in the present interrogation was to help Karl, the chief male assistant, adjust the machinery or re-fix the captive in whatever way the client requested.
Karl and I fuck regularly. Like me, he gets most of his sexual satisfaction from witnessing or actually inflicting torture to young women. If we are both turned on by a pretty bitch bleeding for us, we satisfy the lust in our loins by either fucking or enjoying mutual oral relief. This is, of course, if the bitch we are hurting is too far gone to give us satisfaction from raping one or other of her tender holes.
Oh, and don't think because I'm a woman that I can't do rape. I can do it for longer and in more horrible ways than any man when I strap on one of my many speciality accessories! Later I may tell you more about them…..
Sometimes we know the clients well.
Many are regulars with whom we have very personal arrangements. I think I am the Number One mistress of about eighteen gentlemen of wealth and power, all of whom would have me killed…..probably very slowly……if I was stupid enough to even suggest that they had any connection with POP.
Sorry. I forgot to explain.
POP is a rather exclusive club.
"Purveyors of Pain"…….. we provide wealthy sadists of either sex with male or female companions they can use to inflict pain upon, everything from a man who lets a cruel lady drip hot candle wax on his cock before he fucks her to a teenage runaway who can be butchered, cooked, and eaten at a gala torture feast.
We aren't the first or the only ones to provide similar services, but we have a slight edge on most in that we have total security for the acts of cruelty and absolute safety regarding the disposal of evidence.
It started with my father, really.
I didn't know, of course.

We were rich. He ran a shipping company.

I went to a very expensive Swiss school for young ladies, and I had about five "mothers" as Daddy somehow lost or divorced each one for a new model.
We had a very large and fast luxury yacht for the family's use.

Holidays cruising the Greek islands or swanning off to the Bahamas.
And there was a section below decks I was forbidden to enter.
I met Karl, son of one of my father's important clients, on one of those cruises. He was about my age and we became really good friends.
It was Karl who told me what went on in the "forbidden" cabins. He had seen his father and mine whip a young girl who was strapped over a steel frame. He had found the sight very erotic and told me how he had played with himself as he watched the girls' naked bottom turn from creamy white globes into swollen red-striped mounds of pain.…….
I was sixteen at the time, madly in love with one of the female sports teachers at the academy, not interested in boys, but surprisingly well read when it came to perverse sexual practices.
The library at our young ladies' school had three long shelves filled with well written erotica in French, Italian, German, and English. The unabridged works of De Sade, the Story of "O", numerous texts detailing all forms of sexual aberration, much of the documentation from war crime trials, and a fiction section which included many erotic books not normally available to young ladies.
People who do not move amongst the upper echelons of society do not realize how frequently those wealthy and seemingly moral folk are the most likely to belong to all forms of slightly depraved clubs and cliques.
We can afford the thrills that the working class aspire to, enjoy them frequently enough for boredom to set in, then seek new enjoyments beyond the reach of the common man.

Please forgive me if this sounds arrogant, but I seek to explain why the offspring of the wealthy find it fairly normal to have access to literature and events which would be considered improper by their less affluent peers.

Hunting, shooting, fishing for the boys. Fashion, travel, and exotic partying for the girls.

Spending rather excessive amounts of cash until Daddy puts his foot down.

Being an awful tease to the boys, or, in my case, treating them more as friends because I found the idea of making love much more exciting if it could be with a woman.
I was rather interested in the idea of seeing another naked girl, and not really concerned about father whipping her…..a youthful "whatever turns you on" attitude, perhaps. So I persuaded Karl to take me with him on a visit to the forbidden zone.
He had taken impressions of a special key and had one made up. Terribly exciting. We were like spies in a cheap thriller, creeping down the corridors below decks a while after seeing our fathers descend to the secret area.
Which was when we both saw our naked fathers sharing the unfortunate girl between them. Literally.
She was hanging from a harness around her upper torso, my father raping her from the rear, Karl's dad entering her in front. Blood was running from the lower edge of the harness contraption which appeared to be lined with steel spikes.
We watched from above and to one side…Karl had located a removable air grille which we were peering through.
We could hear the girl sobbing and pleading with them to let her down, and heard the men laugh and tell her she would think this was a picnic compared with what they were going to do to her next.
I had seen enough blue videos to know all about mens' cocks and the intimate details of their appendages and what they did with them. So had Karl.
It was rather strange to see my own father doing it, but I did not feel any pity for the girl. I watched Karl pull his own quite respectable cock from his shorts and, as he obviously found the scene very arousing, I sort of pictured myself down there with the men………..
Which I think was the first time I realized that I was a sadist.
A feeling of urgent sexual desire seemed to flow into my stomach from my vagina and spread upwards and outwards like a sudden flush. I had seen myself with a knife cutting her breasts.

Don't ask why. I had never imagined anything so cruel ever before.

But the picture in my brain made me groan and push the gusset of my shorts aside so I could delve my fingers into myself regardless of Karl's presence.
Our mutual learning curve steepened rapidly.
We actually witnessed the death of the girl, about four days before that cruise ended.
She was hardly recognisable as the two naked men took turns pushing hot irons into her flesh, moving down her torn body for what was clearly the ultimate penetrative branding when they simultaneously entered both lower orifices with glowing poker-like branding irons to finish her off.
Unbeknown to them, less than ten metres away, I was fiercely wanking Karl's solid penis for him as he finger fucked my soaking pussy in return.
We almost choked trying not to cry out with the powerful orgasms we shared. Usually the screams from below had covered any noise we made, but this time she was at last silent.
And on my seventeenth birthday, I had a present rarely if ever bestowed on a teenager before.
……………………………….

CHAPTER TWO:….Introduction to the Firm.

Karl had hired a prostitute in Cairo.
He had wanted to actually try whipping a real woman, and she had agreed for a considerable fee. But the silly bugger had not stopped when she said "enough" and had gone on until he had flogged the old bitch unconscious…………..
Her "minder" had threatened to kill him, there was talk of involving the police, large amounts of money were demanded, and, eventually, Karl's father was made aware that his young son had brutally beaten a Cairo whore with a horse whip.
So the story was known. To the parents. Not to me.

I was at classes in Switzerland, blissfully unaware that Karl was making some pretty serious admissions.
Admissions about the key.
About seeing that young ladies' demise.
And about me being in on it, too.
Which meant my father being made aware of my secret naughtiness.
All just a few weeks before my birthday.
In sublime ignorance of the truth being known, I had successfully seduced the sports teacher for whom I had carried a torch of lustful love for almost eighteen months.

She was my first mature female lover, and together we melted inhibitions to flow into each others' bodies like waves of molten lava. Unfortunately, she was married to a ski instructor who thought he was God's gift to womankind and flirted outrageously with all us students.

She seemed to find great satisfaction in having one of those pretty students as her lover. The girls all said that her husband was one of those all talk and no action men. By the way she enjoyed sex with me, they could have been right. Certainly no mere male could please her as I did.
I was almost heartbroken when I received the letter from my father instructing me to meet the yacht at Pireas….. A "birthday cruise" he told me…. I would rather have stayed at school and continued my wonderful love sessions with Carenia !
But it did mention that we would be picking up Karl and his parents from Cyprus, so I realized there might be a bit of that really naughty stuff to enjoy……….
(Not all cruises I had taken had included anything wicked happening in the secret quarters, but Karl had assured me he had seen things when I was not present).
I flew to Greece and was met at the airport to be whisked down the old port and transferred to our yacht.
Strangely, my latest "mother" was not on board.
In fact, it seemed almost as though there was a distinct lack of female company.
We set sail for Cyprus at once.
I had one of the crew unpack my cases and he was helping me put clothes away when Daddy walked in my cabin. He told the servant to leave and shut the cabin door.
"Seventeen in two days, Darling. And such a beautiful girl, too. But not one of those ordinary Swiss finishing school products, eh ? No dashing off to polo matches with eligible young men or sharing ski lodges in the States with a lot of Harvard types ?"
I had no idea what he was on about and did my charming daughter all-attentive smile routine.
His mobile buzzed and he broke off for a moment, then smiled and sat beside me.
"We are in International Waters now, just outside the ten mile limit. Do you know what that means, Darling?"
I shrugged. "We've left Greek jurisdiction ?"
"More or less, yes. Outside the ten mile zone, law becomes a lot more difficult to enforce. Things happen that would not be tolerated inshore and aground. Piracy. Still happens. Regular reports. Very difficult to do anything about it, though."
I confess, I had not the vaguest idea what he was talking about.
"So ?"
"Well, just saying…. I mean, suppose I saw a small boat and pulled alongside. Who do you think would do anything if I boarded her and robbed the occupants ?"
"The police wherever you next docked, I should think !"
"Only if they knew, Darling. I mean…well, I'm trying to let you see that things can happen at sea that no one would ever know about…..people could be robbed or…..or worse. It's…..well, there's a lot of water and not all of it is safe."
I suddenly had a sick sort of premonition. I'm sure my face must have gone white. The bastard was going to take me down to his little torture den and hurt me ! That's where those missing mothers had gone ! Oh, sweet Jesus, my father was a sadist and he fancied his own daughter as a victim…..
"But lot's of people know I'm here!" I gasped.
He looked at me in amazement, eyebrows raised, face puzzled. And then he suddenly laughed. Helplessly. So much that I started laughing, too, though I didn't know why.
"I………. Sam, you silly little bitch. I'm not going to hurt you….. I know….. I know you and Karl have watched Edrich and I playing games……I know you like it, thank God. I want to let you know why we do it…..everything….!"
Well, perhaps you may have a slight idea how relieved I was, and how terribly embarrassed at the same time.
How does a sixteen going on seventeen-year-old virgin start to talk to her father about being a Lesbian and enjoying sadism ? And it was not very comfortable having a father start to talk about how he ran a very profitable sideline murdering pretty girls with a collection of rich perverts.
When he told me my present was to be a blonde eighteen year old girl that Karl and I could do what we liked with, no questions asked, well……I began to feel a lot more confident.
So after an hour or so, we were talking about what we both found exciting when it came to torturing women and Dad had told me all about POP………..Purveyors of Pain !
A very exclusive club that only invited guests are permitted to join.

The rules are simple. Speak about POP to anyone not a member, and you and your family become participants in the games.

Only one man so far has committed this serious sin…..he watched his wife and thirty year old daughter plus two pre-teen grandchildren endure a six week cruise last Summer. They died very slowly throughout the cruise.

Three men of the family were also killed.

The present power of POP is awesome, due entirely to the wealth and position of those who enjoy its benefits. Contrary to what you may choose to believe, money can buy the power of death.
My father was one of the three original members of POP……….his boats provided the perfect location for perverted games out of sight of the law, and the oceans and their ravenous occupants provided a disposal system for corpses.
Two wives ended their lives on torture cruises, each having found out about POP and been unable to keep quiet about it.
Edrich, Karl's father, was another of the original trio, and his wife Olga actually approved of and joined in with his perversions. No wonder Karl was a sadist with that heritage.
I asked how he made sure the crew said nothing. They must know there were passengers who never completed some trips.
"Either they approve or have other secret habits I can let them enjoy. Your young cabin steward is a dreadful paedophile…hate them, myself, but he simply loves raping little girls of about five years old. The occasions arise when he can enjoy himself.
We often get family to be got rid of. No-one goes to waste. Two of the engine room hands have a thing about eating certain forbidden cuts of meat……….female arce and tits…………so, although the idea of whipping a pretty arse turns them off, cooking it is their Nirvana. "
And so it went on until my father asked me if I would like to become a member of the club.
"It would mean you could be in danger because you would know who some members are, and they are very nervous about that. We have lost a couple of friends because of pre-emptive strikes that we are sure were wrongly set in motion by other members."
"And what would I get out of it ?" I asked.
"Women to hurt. You would be invited to almost every torture session that takes place on board, I should think. Most of us would simply love having a young good looking girl like you help us play !"
"And all these men thinking I'd open my legs for them, too, I suppose !"
"Not really, Darling, though I'm sure all the men I know would love to bed you, but if you were a Mistress you could maintain your own control. It's a sort of accepted thing that a severe mistress only lets men between her legs if she wants them."
Well, we talked for ages and I realised that my life would be more exciting in the Club than out of it.
Money has never been a problem. Enjoying my perversions could be, but not if I was an integral part of POP. So I told my father that his club had a new member.
When the young steward returned to help pack away my clothes, I looked at him in a very different way. It was not easy to imagine him raping a schoolgirl, even more difficult to think that he knew his employer captured and killed innocent women.
When Karl and his parents joined us I did not find it at all difficult to accept that his mother was just like me……….more like me than I at first suspected, actually, because she told me that she enjoyed making love with another woman better than sex with Edrich.
They brought the girl on board. A year older than I then was, good looking, full figured, Swedish au pair material smuggled from Turkey and never designed for anything other than sex.
Karl and I stripped and tormented her together. He fucked her. I raped her with dildoes. We made her perform cunnilingus and fellatio by the simple expedient of giving her electric shocks on her pussy lips until she begged for mercy and swore to obey any command. It was far better than our dirtiest dreams had suggested.

We had a bit of a shock at how messy it got when we got a bit over enthusiastic whipping her until she bled rather a lot, but Daddy arranged for a couple of cabin crew to clean up the mess in return for being able to fuck the poor bitch, so that was alright.
I got a little drunk and found myself in bed with Karl and his mother.

He took my technical virginity and it was actually quite pleasant as his mother had been tongueing me until I wet myself. It seemed I was becoming a sadistic little slut quite easily.
Long before the end of my birthday cruise, I had shared very serious torture sessions not only with Karl but with Daddy and Edrich helping to hurt our Swedish blonde as well. She died, of course, and we cut her up and fed her to the fishes in mid ocean.
Going back to my Swiss finishing school until my eighteenth birthday was quite a hard thing to do, but education is supposed to be important, and Carenia was still my Lesbian lover .

I went to bed with her at every opportunity, unfortunately not able to lead her interests in to sadism, but then Daddy suggested we hire private investigators to vet the rest of the girls at the school to find any with latent cruel tendencies.

Not as difficult as one thinks.

Reading certain books, visiting specialist shops, logging on on one's portable P.C. to peculiar web sites.....there are a lot of give-away signs... Astonishingly there were three who later became regular companions of wealthy members of POP.
And now ?
Well, Daddy died almost a year ago. Karl and I virtually run POP with a little help from a couple of trusted old members, and we have invested in this excellent new vessel designed especially for POP.
It looks like an up-market tanker, certainly not the luxury yacht type of vessel father would have expected.

But that means that people do not notice us. Enter or leave ports throughout our cruising range and hardly anyone raises an eyebrow.

Quite a few commercial freighters have a helicopter pad nowadays. We need ours to bring the clients aboard in secrecy so they can venture below decks to explore some of the most fully equipped torture chambers this side of a South American police state interrogation centre.
And we have grinders, commercial models, into which a human corpse can be tossed to emerge at the other end of the process as minced meat….a little bony, in places, but fully dispersible at sea.

No chance of a shark being caught with large pieces of girl meat in its belly, to cause official concern.
Our costs are very high. Fuel, food, berthing fees, maintenance, and so on….but our fees are enormous.
Only the very rich could afford to use our services, but they are why we exist and our service is second to none.
Occasionally we even provide special services….a man tiring of his wife or wishing harm to an enemy may enjoy having certain people brought onto our vessel for him to dispose of at his leisure.
So much better to see the face of a hated enemy as he watches you castrate his sons or ravish and mutilate his wife and daughters.
Of course, if doing the deed is not to the clients liking, Karl, I, and most members of the crew will be more than happy to oblige……
We even have a small but efficient ships hospital staffed by some of the most perverted doctors and nurses we could find. Though they can save life and repair damage, all of them actually prefer to use their skills to torment and destroy young women.
Want your victim to have enormous breasts? Put her in our care for a few weeks and she can be transformed.
Want her kept alive even when you have cut out her eyes and broken half the bones in her body? We will feed her and repair her so you can hurt her some more.
And we specialise in pregnancies. Causing them and aborting them. Keeping them until they are just as you like to destroy.
Finally, and this is quite recent and not yet perfected, we are attempting to mould a subjects' will to match your required criteria.
Currently we have two young women on board who are engaged to be married to two of our clients. They want their new wives to not only accept but actively participate in and enjoy their husbands' perversions.
If we do not succeed in our mission, both the poor cows will be used as playthings in the torture chambers, so it really is in their interests to learn the lessons we give them.
I'll tell you how it works, or how we are trying to make it work. ……………….You may find it interesting.

CHAPTER THREE : Virgin's Voyage.

She was one of the sweetest looking creatures I had ever seen.
Ron introduced her to me on the bridge.
I was wearing my uniform, a sort of slightly sexy naval outfit with tight jacket and short tight skirt over dark nylons and rather inappropriate high heels.
"Sheri, this is Samantha Govash, our Captain."
She blushed slightly, one of those creamy complexions with tiny freckles that red heads seem to have. I could have taken her in my arms and kissed her. She really was a peach.
"My fiancée, Sheri" Ron smiled at me, a look of proud possession on his face.
Last time I had seen Ron he was in the electrical room using a cattle prod inside the slits his brother had cut in a womans' breasts. I think I had actually sucked him off as they hoisted the gurgling creature into the air by sliding a huge meat hook into what was left of her cunt…or that might have been Ellis, his brother.
Now he stood before me, impeccable in a Saville suit, the exquisite young redhead dressed in Dior casuals, her deck shoes in calf leather that was as soft as silk and probably cost a small fortune.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Captain. Ron has told me so much about you. He was quite insistent that we share this short cruise with you before the wedding, though I had rather imagined something less…er…commercial."
"Oh, don't let first impressions colour your view too much" I smiled. "There's a lot more to the Desaddee than meets the eye. We have a full range of amusements on board for even the most jaded of palates."
I knew by previous consultation of course, that Ron really loved this young woman. He desperately wanted to marry her and have her bear his children and his name. Unfortunately, his sexual preferences were almost exclusively sadistic. He and his brother enjoyed torturing women in ways that went far beyond S and M games, ways that frequently left the poor victim dead.. A wife who did not share this enthusiasm could be a bore. Unfortunately, though one could frequently fall for a pretty girl, finding one who could even contemplate the sort of fun Ron and Ellis enjoyed was virtually impossible.
So he wanted me to convert her, turn her into a nymphomaniac sadist without spoiling her looks.
I had insisted that he did not stay on board. If he loved her at all, he would never countenance what I intended doing to her.
She drank the sweet Turkish coffee and smiled lovingly into her fiancés' eyes just before she slithered sideways on the chair, out cold.
As soon as I had ushered Ron to the helicopter and sent him on his way, I went back to my cabin where Sheri lay unconscious on my huge king size bed.
I buzzed Karl. We always shared any special delights, and this girl was certainly special.
I must admit, I had slipped my hand up inside her crisp white chenille blouse to check the firmness of her full breasts even before Karl arrived.
Karl likes bottoms. Bottoms and shapely thighs. More a leg man than a tit man, he says.
Together we undressed sleeping beauty.
You know, this can be an intensely sexual feeling, undressing an unconscious girl when you know she would be screaming the walls down if she knew what you were doing to her.
We spread her legs and admired her bush, tight little curls of a stunning red copper colour. I bent down and licked between her tightly curled pussy lips, so tight they looked as if they had never even been fondled. Redheads smell a little different, slightly more fishy. That sounds rather nasty but I don't mean it to be. It's like a fair haired man's cock. Always seems to have a different odour, even straight from the shower it has that tang….
We bared her breasts and both fondled the creamy mounds topped with very pale pink almost translucent nipples. I was getting very moist. Just thinking how she would scream if I could get to play with those delicate buds…………
We turned her over so Karl could stroke her bottom. She had slim thighs but firm and nicely rounded buttocks below a tiny waist. Pulling the cheeks apart, we peered at the pale brown skin puckered round her little arcehole. Now Karl was getting turned on.
"Jesus, she looks like a total virgin" he groaned. "I've got to shaft that pretty bumhole. I'll open the little slut up!"
He pulled his cock out, already pretty near erect, and rubbed the tip up and down on our little sleeping beauties' bottom cheeks, leaving snail trails of clear pre-come.
From behind, her tight furled pussy looked even more inviolable. I could not resist gently peeling the lips apart and after licking my forefinger to ease its passage, I probed carefully inside her little love tunnel, only to be brought up short by feeling her hymen.
"Oh my God, she really is a 100% virgin" I breathed. "She hasn't even finger fucked the web out of the way. She's intacto as they say. A genuine cherry pie waiting to be fuck-plucked!"
"Can we do her?" Karl asked. He knew that there were strict limits as to what we could do to the fiancé of one of our clients.
"Ron wants her to be a sadistic fuck-hungry tramp when he marries her. No way can we get her to that stage without fucking her" I smiled.
"Let's take her down below" he drooled. "When she wakes up I want her looking straight at my prick!"
Now this is where we are not absolutely sure of the right way to go. There are two choices. You degrade and debase your subject until they have no self respect left, then rebuild their character as you desire it to be, using pain, drugs, and the simple will to survive……….or, you start the treatment by drugging the subject and getting them to perform obscenities under the drugs that they would never otherwise allow, slowly teaching them that such lewd behaviour rewards them with feelings of sexual delight.
Unfortunately, as Ron genuinely loves this girl, we have to use the second less brutal system, at least until we find out if it is going to work.
Rohypnol and a derivative of Viagra make a most useful cocktail to start a woman on the road to sexual perversion.
Either injected or swallowed in a drink, and even a nun would start to feel horny. The rohypnol not only removes her inhibitions but frequently erases her memory of the sinful things she may have done, and the viagra makes her responses to sexual stimulation almost automatic.
Sheri groaned when I squirted the dose of chemical stimulation into her arm, at the back and below her shoulder so she would be unable to see any needle mark. We lay her on a padded leather restraint bed, carefully securing her wrists and ankles in padded cuffs so she was loosely outspread face up and totally naked. Karl squatted above her head, slowly masturbating his cock to keep it hard. I curled up between Sheris' legs and gently licked her tight lipped sex slit.

At each side of the bed were large T.V. sets, one showing a Lesbian video and the other a sado-masochistic blue movie, the sort that ordinary sex shops can actually sell without being raided. We had the sound turned down so only a background of "oogghh" and "aarrrggghhh" simulated orgasm noises broke the silence.
When Sheris' eyes fluttered open, all she could see for a moment was an erect phallus being gently wanked just above her face. The drugs inhibited her reactions. She did not scream, just stared in a sort of shocked disapproval at the red cockhead with the foreskin peeling back then re-covering the shiny glans. I heard her gasp of surprise, and drove my tongue hard between those succulent petals, hearing a slightly louder cry of fear as she realised what was being done to her sex slot.
Then she began to struggle and scream, which was to be expected.
She had no idea who Karl was, but when I emerged from between her legs, tastefully attired in my leather dominatrix play clothes with erect nipples jutting from peep holes and a triangular section of my leather tights cut out to frame my blonde bush, she was really confused.
Karl lowered his naked rump until his hairy balls brushed Sheris' forehead and he dipped his prick to rub over her nose and lips. Pre-come smeared her face.
I straddled her waist, knees apart, thrusting my pelvis forward so she looked straight at my sex triangle, then I sank my middle finger into the wet gash and let her get a close up view of a really hot cunt being toyed with.
In disgust, she twisted her head sideways and stared at the T.V. screen with three girls daisy chaining each other on big rubber dongs. Her head twisted the other way, and she saw a man caning the rounded bottom of a girl bound over a wooden whipping frame. Just as she gurgled with amazement, the caner drove his cock into the bent over girls' arcehole.
Above her, Jake was pumping his manhood faster, grinning down into her frightened blue eyes with a look of lustful cruelty. And my pussy was actually starting to ooze juice down the top of my thighs as I frigged myself hard and deep.
Add the smell of male and female arousal, and you can see that poor Cheri was being drowned in sexual stimulants that scared the hell out of her but also started to arouse her unwilling passions.
It isn't easy to overcome natural prudery. We really have to work hard to balance fear and arousal, but we eventually got Sheris' body to betray her. Disgusted by all around her, she screamed with pleasure as I sucked her cunt into an orgasm.
Some reluctant pleasure….then some pain.
Karl got on her and broke her hymen with one savage thrust.
It was her first real scream of agony as his thick manhood went up to the hilt in the ruptured passage, lubricated by both her fresh blood and her bodies' treacherous response to my tongue.
After his rut, I sucked her clean. I'm afraid I actually like the taste of male sperm, more so when mixed with virgins' blood.
For the first time I spoke to her, my face still smeared with her pussy blood.
"I'm afraid this is only your first lesson, Sheri Darling. Your fiancé is a very naughty man. He likes all the dirty sex you can see on those televisions, and he wants you to share his pleasures, so he asked Karl and me to teach you how to like kinky sex. We know you are a good girl….you were even a virgin until Karl broke your cherry, weren't you ? I'm very impressed. But from now on you are going to be an absolute slut. We'll teach you how to suck cocks and girl's pussies, how to whip a girl until her bottom is all bloody, even get you to feel sexy when you watch your new husband cut the tits off some poor tortured bitch…………..yes, he does do things like that. Usually with Ellis joining in. They are a couple of real cruel dudes when we have a torture party on board. You see, the Desaddee is named after De Sade, the original Count of Cruelty. It's a pleasure cruiser for special people who like special pleasures….like torturing some poor woman to death just for the fun of hearing her scream and watching her body slowly torn apart."
Her face was a picture, wide blue eyes shiny with tears, pretty mouth open in a sort of 'O' of wonder, and yet her bound body was still squirming slightly as I fondled between her legs and Karl gently stroked her fine breasts, occasionally leaning down and licking her nipples tenderly.
The drugs were churning her sex drive and the Rohypnol was deadening her repugnance. She probably felt like one does when waking from an erotic dream, a mixture of longing for those hot feelings to return and a little shame that one feels so turned on.
"Now I'm going to let you come again, Sheri. Don't be bashful. Sex is something to be enjoyed. You just think of how much better it would be if Ron was here stroking you and licking your nipples."
She began to babble…a mixture of reproofs, threats, pleas and expressions of total outrage.
I think the fact that I had told her it was her loving fiancé who had got her tied down like this threw her completely. If we had just been strangers who had abducted her, her outrage would have been stronger and her resistance greater. As things were, she was scared but somehow intrigued. Could Ron really be the beast I had described? Her loving husband to be?
I was back down between her sleek thighs, fingers and tongue working magic on that sexy red fringed triangle.
I adore a woman's cunt. I can sometimes even get a girl to come after the men have done some really brutal things to her body. Of course, my tendencies to enjoy Lesbian rather than heterosexual relationships does mean I know how to do things in that moist cave of delight that some men never dream of in their whole lifetimes. Anyway, aided by the Viagra type drug, I soon had Cheri not protesting any more….she was actually gasping "Yesss" and bucking her hips into me with a desperate urge to make me bite her just that little bit harder to bring her climax over the edge.
And each side of her, the T.V. screens continued to show increasingly depraved full colour videos one after the other. Three men on her left, inserting their tools into mouth, anus and vagina of a willing busty blonde whilst on her right a girl hung by outspread ankles as a man and a very young girl whipped her all over. The young girl was rubbing her almost hairless pudenda with obvious excitement as she slashed her short horsewhip over the upside down captive's buttocks. The soundtracks were slightly more expressive by now. Screams and cruel threats on her right, greedy hot dirty talk on her left.
She came four times, totally exhausted at the end, body wet with sweat, totally relaxed even though the screens were showing stuff that should be making her sick and she was still being pawed by a naked man and a leather clad dominatrix.
Amazing how sex can drive out normal fears if it is strong enough.
It was the end of the first major session, and I wanted to leave Sheri with a feeling of threat to make sure that when her normal reactions overcame the residual drugs, she would think long and hard about being too quick to fight back.
I nodded to Karl and he straddled the exhausted girl's head. "Suck my cock, Sheri!" he grinned.
As expected, the sudden return to male organs scared her. She shook her head. "No…no, I won't do that. Leave me alone. Please, stop doing this to me…"
I stood up and loomed over her, my face composed into a cruel sneer.
"You silly little cunt! Haven't you learned anything? Your man wants a sex slut. You'll fucking lick any cock off any fucking time, bitch. I was going to let you rest for a while, but fucking disobedience from a cunt like you gets me fucking mad. Get the slut in the cramp box, Karl. We'll teach her not to fucking argue!"
So weeping and pleading, and actually apologising for upsetting me, the sweet little redhead found herself crouching in a little bamboo cage, just enough room for her to kneel inside it, then we hoisted it into mid air, positioned the televisions in front of her with the volume on the sadistic channel turned up until the screams really bounced off the cabin walls, and left her to hang in increasing pain and suffering with nothing to look at but gradually more and more outrageous videos.
She passed out after almost eight hours, poor cow. She had peed herself, her knees and arms had wealts from pressing into the bamboo supports, and her body was completely seized up with cramp.
She had also seen her husband to be and his brother in a few recordings of their cruel games in the electrical cell. Now she knew that whatever I said was true. He really did cut the tits off living girls and
toss himself off as his brother sent electric shocks into the circles of raw flesh where they had been.
Cheri was cared for in our on-board hospital wing, massaged, pampered, treated like a princess other than having a silver chain locked to her ankles all the time so she could not escape.
No mention was made of sex or what had been done to her. The nurses and orderlies simply ignored her questions.
Until Karl and I collected her for her second session.
Without drugs, watching her fiancé in a particularly brutal session, body naked, spreadeagled, Karl fucking her second virgin hole which made her cry a lot and bleed quite freely, me just fingering her pussy and being quite cruel, pulling and twisting her labia, scraping my fingernails down the sweet creases of her womanhood.
"All you have to do is start to like it, Cheri, and there would be nothing but constant pleasure for you. A man with enough money to satisfy your every desire, who loves you so much that he is spending an absolute fortune paying to have you taught how to enjoy sadistic sex, and friends who would adore you."
"You're all sick!" she sobbed. "I'll never let you make me as horrible as you are!".
So we whipped her.
Naturally we used fine braided leather whips that would bring up nice red stripes and swellings without slicing open her skin, but they hurt just as much. And did our pretty little red head scream. We flogged her in four sessions of about twenty minutes each. By the end she was virtually unconscious, whimpering softly, voice too raw to be able to scream any more, even if we sliced a good shot right between her swollen pussy lips.
Then we fucked her, Karl in her pussy, me wearing a double-ender and taking her from behind. That was another first for poor Cheri, and she needed a bit of repair work afterwards where a bit of a split had opened in her back passage.
A few days care, then a drugged up session in which she became willing very quickly, actually spending three quarters of the session with both of us on a bed and no restraints or bindings.
I think Ron would have never believed that his little virgin could be on her hands and knees, tongue buried up my slit while Karl knelt behind her shagging her for all she was worth…..and she willingly spread herself for me to use a dilly while I tongued her into at least three orgasms.
On the T.V. throughout this session, videos taken on board Desaddee were on screen. Believe me, no one outside POP has access to material as explicit and disgusting as that. But Cheri was able to come with a man and a woman while girls on screen were being cut into ribbons or broken on the rack….
We were getting somewhere at last.
Most people are like that, really. Show them a bare tit on home television and they cry out that it is disgusting. Show them a few more, maybe a bit of pussy and a bit of romantic fucking done discretely, and soon a bare tit doesn't even warrant a raised eyebrow.
Violence?
Well, keep the sex out of it and you can show most things. Bringing the two together will take a bit of time.
But in controlled intensive sessions, totally abhorrent torture scenes become less shocking when watched repeatedly. Share viewing with feelings of sexual excitement, and in time the two go hand in hand. Cruelty rouses passions, passion brings thoughts of cruelty.
And familiarity breeds acceptance. We had Cheri feeling sexy as soon as we turned the sado T.V. on.
We had her feeling something was missing if I had her gorgeous pussy in my mouth and there were no girls bleeding in the background.
Most importantly, she could talk about her husband to be without saying he was a monster even though on a screen in front of her he was sticking red hot skewers in a woman's feet. She was learning that sadism and sex went together for him and could soon be linked in her mind, too.
Pavlovas' dogs. Simple pain or reward training. Call it what you will, with Cheri it worked.
Three months, and we made sure her body was back to virginal condition. She agreed to have a little surgery in her pussy, replacing the web of her hymen. She wanted to be the virgin bride, after all, and we promised faithfully and truthfully that we would never reveal to her husband to be what we had done to make her understand and share his depraved interests. We would tell Ron it was all down to drugs. If he believed that, fine. If not, it would be up to Cheri if she wanted to tell him how often she had been fucked by us.
The other girl, well. we tried just as hard. She was older and more experienced before we were asked to convert her. Maybe that made the difference, I don't know. But she hated cruelty and no amount of drugging , threatening, hurting, or pleading could make her accept it.
The member who had wanted her transformed simply married her on board in a bizarre parody of the normal wedding service, the bride to be being in chains and scared witless, and then killed her to show her what she was missing. It was the first time on Desaddee that we had a wedding and a divorce at the same time.
Ron and Cheri were married in Barbados and spent their honeymoon cruising on Desaddee.
Cheri was wonderful, even learning how to fix the clamps to a shrieking girl's nipples so she could have a seriously shocking time…….
And when we all got together for a good old fashioned orgy on the sun deck, she actually whispered "Thankyou" to me as we knelt together sucking off Rons' prick.
………..
………..

CHAPTER FOUR : South American Cruising.

.

The street kids of South America are the lifeblood of a few organisations with similar aims to POP. The police will actually help you obtain teens and pre teens, charging very little to actually collect any required quantity for you and deliver them for "exportation". Unfortunately, most female street urchins have been fucked since they could walk and carry more venereal disease between their legs than you would find in a badly run whorehouse.
However, just as our teaching methods succeed due to familiarity with a concept allowing increasing tolerance, so it is with a State that condones the murder of annoying urchins begging, and allows young teenagers to be a common sight dealing drugs in the city streets.

When no serious attempt is made to protect these orphans, it only takes a little more money to persuade certain officials that a drug bust at the local university could ensure a number of young women being taken in for questioning.

If some of them were to vanish………..
And in the remote areas, a family will sell a daughter "for marriage".

They know she will probably become a prostitute.

If they happen to sell her to representatives of POP, she will become a short lived member of our crew.

There's no come back. Safe victims no-one protects, often innocent, even virginal, and frequently absolutely gorgeous. The only problem is that so few of them speak good English, and almost all our clients like to be able to understand their victim's cries for mercy, so English is an advantage.

However, when I suggest that the sound of screaming is the same in Spanish as it is in English, this is rarely a serious problem.
We wanted to stock up our galleries early in the year and the warmer climate of South America has another advantage to abductors………in the sunshine, girls do not cover up too much. One has a fair idea of the quality of the merchandise before taking off the wrappings.

Snatch a woman from the cold streets of Northern Europe, and by the time you strip off the layers of clothing she may be as attractive as a plank.

Virtually every male sadist I have met likes his women with curvy bodies, other than the pre-teen brigade who like the little girl look.

I have never yet been asked for a bony skinny woman or one of the cellulite flaunters that abound in far too great a number. (In the interests of accuracy, we did have one client from the Orient who wanted two enormously fat ladies to do unspeakable things to, but I think that was the only time Karl actually found the victims too awful to turn him on!).
I won't disclose actual sources. I value my life and have no wish to find out what it feels like to have my breasts cut off …
It is a medium sized town on the coast. There are a lot of holiday apartments and hotels, a trio of schools, a small university, two hospitals, and a factory that makes shock equipment, everything from stun guns to electric cattle prods.
The chief of police owns this factory. He supplies us and others with specialised electric shock devices tailor made for our purposes.

And for POP he supplies women. I'll call him Carlo for the purposes of this report.
This time he had done even better than usual.
Knowing in advance that we were on route he had arrested a number of mainly American tourists on drug charges. Silly girls in camper vans driving down one side of South America and up the other, usually on "out" years from their studies.
Those that did not have the means to cause unwanted investigation from their home country were imprisoned in the police chiefs' private gaol, situated in a splendid seaside location some miles up the coast, treated well, and told they were caught up in a large drug sweep which would be compromised by their release.

Amazingly, he never had any who did not believe the story. They accepted their luxurious imprisonment and enjoyed the facilities he offered………..pools, saunas, good food, a long sandy beach fringed with palms………..only their lack of outside communication and the inability to actually leave the place making it different from a holiday home !
I asked the chief one day how he resisted the temptation to fuck the American bimbos, some of whom were very tasty young women.

He told me he liked dark meat. Any American negress was his.

Turned out he had a harem of seventeen very lovely dark skinned girls who did as they were told or endured his favourite punishment………..honey in the pussy and twenty four hours staked out over an ants nest.
After that entertainment, none had ever refused his demands again.
For us he had a most welcome cargo.
Fourteen women, ages from sixteen to thirty two, all bar two from the U.S.A. ( the odd couple were from Canada and were very interesting....a sixteen year old brunette and her thirty two year old mother who looked more like her sister).........and it had been Mom who had the joints in the car when they were stopped and searched by Carlo's road block team.

At first she had tried the usual "you can't do this" outbursts, only calming down when she saw the luxurious accommodation and the seemingly perfectly happy other residents at Carlos' holding centre.
Drugs in their food, a covered military style truck to the docks, well wrapped unconscious female forms carried into the cargo bay, and we set sail with our holding cells very well replenished......

As usual on a stocking cruise, we had invited guests who paid even more than the usual exorbitant fees for the luxury of being in on the abduction part of the fun…there is a special frission about seeing a girl who has no idea that she is in danger suddenly find out that she is in the hands of depraved sadists.

The total shock, the pleasure of exposing the true nature of her captivity, the freshness of terror…..once a woman has been used on a cruise, even if she has only been abused sexually, there just is not that special thrill of being the first to shock her with pain.

Girls who survive from cruise to cruise almost begin to accept that their time will come. Some even welcome it when they are given to a sadist who wants to see them die. When weeks of pain and humiliation are finally to be ended by a man with a gun or a sharp knife, loss of life can almost be a relief.

Of course, when they find out how slowly shots from a gun can kill them or feel the varied agonies a skilfully wielded blade can cause, they all scream and beg for a mercy that is never shown. Death is the only release......

We make it a rule that playmates are not allowed out of the concealed cells whenever we are in any countries territorial waters.

Once well out to sea, the carefully dosed drugs can be stopped to allow our new passengers to awaken and find themselves in small locked cabins, aware by the motion of the surroundings that they were afloat but with no idea how they had been transferred from a tropical beachside paradise to a floating prison.
Four males and one female made up our passenger list, all of them knew each other well. The woman,Kate, was the paid "wardress" for one of the men, Dean, a millionaire property developer with a small "prison" of rather young girls.

One man was a "solo" who liked me to be his companion during his voyages ( I'll call him Tom), and two men were homosexual lovers who had a special "thing" about hurting women.
We had a sort of "pick and choose" dinner party, photographs of our new stock passed around the table leading to a delicious depraved conversation during which I let the men decide who they wanted to start with.

We tend to start most cruises with a "get together" party evening, after which clients usually buy their victim to play with individually.

When they wanted the Canadians, and agreed to pay double, Karl and I were looking forward to the games even more hungrily than usual.
It had always been one of our favourite phantasy ideas to have a pretty mother watch us rape and torture her daughter..........
We dressed both captives before they regained consciousness, mother in a tight black silk evening dress with expensive and slightly old-fashioned silk underclothes, dark 15 dernier nylons, suspender belt, high heel black patent leather shoes, and daughter in a tight sweater over sports bra., mini skirt, tiny white panties, socks and white trainers. She looked like a high school cheer leader.
In one of the torture cells, mother was secured against a bed size padded leather tilt and turn table, bound in silk scarf ties that would allow quite a lot of movement but hold with adequate security.
Her daughter was seated in a chair, wrists and ankles manacled in padded restraints. Neither was gagged. Karl, I, and our five guests were seated by the bar at the play end of the torture cell .
We were all in uniform.
The "wardress" Kate and I had short brown skirts, tight black sweaters, arm bands with a swastika like crest, black high heel boots, and a leather gun belt complete with pistol but also with a short multi-thong whip.
The five men had Nazi style jack boots, black shirts and pants, plenty of ersatz gold braid, and menacing dark glasses.
We looked like extras from a porn movie...The Gestapos' Last Orgy, or something.
You may think it silly that a group of sexual perverts like us would bother play-acting instead of just starting to assault our victims, but it is great fun to do an "interrogation" game or a "mad scientist" experiment, or whatever.

You see, we hurt people all the time, and, to be truthful, the thrill of burning a girls' tits with cigarettes starts off as a mind-blowing experience but becomes rather routine after you have done it so many times.

Adding the role-play themes seems to freshen up the whole thing. We not only have the still very arousing delights of making our victim scream but also the fun of inventing a believable dialogue to go with whatever situation we have invented.
Though not from personal experience at my age, I do believe that women married for years have to create little phantasy role plays in their heads when the old man is jumping their bones. It freshens the act enough to bring some spice to the fucking.
If you have travelled in South America, you will know that the various security forces do indeed dress like movie extras, with even a bellhop looking like a general. Our slowly awakening Canadian guests would have no doubt they were being held by some police or security group.
I think the mother was brought fully awake with a jolt when she tried to bring her arms down from above her head and realized they were bound. She tried to sit up, failed, and suddenly noticed her dress. She gave a sort of snort of anger, turned her head, and froze when she saw our little group drinking as we leaned against the bar at the end of the cell.
Just then, her daughter groaned, and the woman swung her head round to see her pretty girl tied to the chair.
I think that was when confusion first turned to fear. We could see her face change, the soft brown eyes widen with shock, her mouth forming an "Oh" but only making a gasp as she sucked air in rapidly.
We all sauntered over to her. The two gay men, Paul and Roger, played the nice cops.
They "shushed" the questions that started to bubble from Moms' lips and told her she had been arrested by the drug enforcement agency as she was suspected of using her innocent image to allow her to take important coded messages to South American drug producers.
I know. Absolute nonsense, but then you have not just come round to find yourself strapped on a leather table wearing clothes that aren't yours and with your daughter bound to a chair and looking terrified.
"Just tell us which cartel you were delivering messages to and what you had to tell them, and you can go back to enjoying your holiday, Mrs. West."
I was already getting that delicious warm feeling between my legs, and I could see Karl's cock swelling in those tight Nazi black pants.
We listened to the garbled protestations of innocence. Sometimes they just get angry straight away. "You can't do this...I'll get the law on you" and so on. Mrs. West, probably because she genuinely did have marijuana joints when arrested by our helpful lawman, tried sweet reason and lots of explanations, who she was, why she was in South America in the first place, how she had been foolish with taking spliffs, how her Darling Penny knew nothing about them and was as pure as the driven snow, how she hadn't caused any trouble at the policeman's hacienda...ask him...he knew she was really just a tourist....
All seven of us were gathered round the leather oblong on which our pleading captive squirmed, each of us looking at her body with different mental images of her suffering.
Kate was the first to be nasty.
"I think she's a lying bitch, Sir. Let me make her tell the truth....maybe give her a bit of pain to loosen her lips !"
Paul reached down and very gently squeezed Marion Wests' left breast. "She's nor very nice, Mrs. West. I'm afraid she is not at all ladylike. Her idea of asking questions is to push pins under your fingernails. Very unpleasant."
Marion was scared. The casual way this total stranger had fondled her breast in front of all these people, and the awful drooling looks on the two women's' faces above her was seriously frightening. What made it worse was the fact that she knew she couldn't tell them what they wanted to know.
"Please, we really are just tourists. We're from Call Heights, just outside Toronto, in Canada. We've nothing to do with anything down here. Just tourists ".
Roger leaned over, put his hand on Marion's right breast, and gave that a firm squeeze through her clothes. "We could watch Kate burn her nipples, Paul. That usually makes them talk very quickly !".
We all knew, of course, that the boys have this thing about women's breasts. It's a sort of jealousy thing, I believe. They both would rather be women at heart, and envy those most noticeable peaks, so love destroying them. But burning tits was a bit premature.
"Perhaps if we let Kate hurt the girl Mrs. West would remember more quickly ?" Dean growled.
He and Tom were playing the nasty cop roles, all macho and brutal....not that anyone was going to be nice to our captives, really.
"No, let me fuck the bitch!" Tom snarled. "I like 'em young !"
"Noooghhh1" Marion screeched.
Funny how quickly we can turn fear into real terror.
We had suggested violence. Now we were introducing sex. Combine the two, and we would have Mrs. West wetting her knickers with dread.
During these group sessions, Karl and I hang back unless requested not to. It can be quite frustrating sometimes, pussy wetting gorgeous horrors happening to some poor bitch and I have to just watch. But the client comes first. In more than one way, too.
"She's got lovely tits!".
Penny squealed. Standing behind her chair, Tom leaned over her and groped the well stacked sweater, one hand on each side, palming her bra into her resilient breast meat. Her hair flew in a sort of halo frame as she shook her head, screaming "No...Mom, help me !".
Marion probably couldn't hear very well because she was screaming too, screaming at us to stop touching her daughter.
This was going to be a wonderful cruise.

All the clients seemed to appreciate the finer points of playing cruel games....the build-up, the threats long before the action. I was conscious of pre-come juice actually seeping down my inner thighs. And we hadn't even unfastened a button yet.

End of Part One.

If you wish to read what happens next, please let me know and I may continue the voyage on the "Desaddee"....but it will be awfully dirty with poor Marion and her daughter getting sent to their makers as fish food, eventually...

.Love,

Susan.