Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Enslaved Chapter 52 free porn video
The crate labelled ‘Additional Sales’ stood in the centre of the bedroom in Quentin’s suite. Still unaware of its contents, Hans and Cassim had placed it there for him. On previous days they had also made some minor alterations and additions to the bedroom and the adjoining dressing room.
The latter had been converted into a kind of cell-cum-Punishment Room, with all the necessary equipment. The room was now entered through an iron-grille door which could be locked.
There were some changes in the bedroom, too. The windows were now barred. Chains and manacles hung on one of the walls. There were securing straps on the corners of the four-poster bed. Also on the bed-posts.
For, having decided to carry out most of Simone Gerard’s training himself, it seemed only sensible to do it in the comfort of his own suite, leaving the cells free for Melissa to continue her work.
Perhaps, later on, Simone might pay the occasional visit to the cells. Likewise, the youngsters could be brought up to him from time to time.
With considerable pleasure, Quentin levered up the top of the packing case. Yes... there she was... still in her costume, looking even better in the flesh than through binoculars. She was still out cold, breasts rising and falling gently. Quentin couldn’t resist touching one of the breasts... pushing his hand under the tight costume. It felt a little cold.
“Oh you arrogant bitch,” he murmured to himself, “you’ve no idea of the things you’re going to do for me... ”
Then he bent down and lifted the woman up, placing her on the bed, stretching her out. Yes... that was some body. And now it was his!
The first thing to be done (as was done to all new arrivals on the ‘Paradise’) was to ‘brainwash’ Simone. This was some sort of electric process, which baffled Quentin, but which succeeded in making it impossible for the victim to harm others or herself. Thus avoiding danger for both sides in the future! He put the large headset on to Simone and switched on the machine to which they were attached. There was no sound and, even though the woman was senseless, the ‘auto-suggestion message’ was being received repeatedly by her brain. Another marvel of modern science, like the Healing Treatment! After ten minutes, Quentin removed the ear-phones. That short time was sufficient to do the trick.
Then Quentin sat his new possession in a wooden armchair. He tied her ankles to the front legs and her wrists to the side arms. Her head of dark brown hair lolled as Quentin gave her a second injection, this time to bring her round. He pulled up an armchair and sat opposite, just a few feet away.
After about a minute, the breasts gave a sudden heave and there was an intake of breath. Then the eyes opened. Those liquid-brown lustrous eyes; wide-set, slanting slightly. Gradually they focussed. Then Simone Gerard’s brow furrowed.
“You,” she said.
“Me,” nodded Quentin.
“Where am I? What has happened? Who are you?” The questions tumbled out.
“One thing at a time,” said Quentin evenly.
“You’re at the ‘Maison Juane’. You have been a*****ed. I am Quentin Osman.”
“a*****ed?” Simone’s brow furrowed again. For the first time she seemed to realise she was secured by the wrists and ankles. “Why am I tied?” she asked.
Quentin liked the way she didn’t panic. This woman had guts and self-possession. “Because I want to keep control over you,” he answered.
“I don’t understand. You’re the man in the restaurant aren’t you? And you came on my boat. Is this some kind of a joke?”
“No joke,” said Quentin. “On the contrary.”
“Obviously I am being held to ransom. How much are you demanding? I may tell you I am not as wealthy as some people imagine.”
“I’m not asking any ransom... ”
“What then? I don’t understand.”
The woman looked down again. Still she was remaining calm. “Will you please cover me up with something,” she said politely. “I don’t like sitting in front of strange men in nothing but a bathing costume.”
Quentin shook his head and smiled faintly. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “In fact, I shall be taking that costume off you shortly.”
Anger, not fear, came into the dark eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Simone Gerard. “And kindly stop this charade. I’ve had enough of it. If you don’t want money, what do you want?”
“You,” came the even reply.
“Me? What on earth do you mean?”
“I should have thought it was clear. You. Your person. Your being. Your body... ”
Again the anger in the eyes. “I don’t understand. How can you? You’re talking nonsense.”
“Not a bit of it. Perhaps I had better make something plain to you, Simone... ”
“Madame Gerard to you!”
“Simone,” repeated Quentin and saw the woman bite her lower lip. “You have been a*****ed and I am keeping you here. Permanently.”
“Permanently? Are you mad?” Plainly Simone Gerard did imagine she was dealing with someone deranged. One could see her saying to herself... perhaps I’s better humour him.
“As sane as you are,” replied Quentin. “You see, Simone, you are going to become my personal slave.”
Simone actually laughed. “Slave!” she scoffed. “You are out of your mind.”
Quentin felt a little stab of anger at her contemptuous tone, but controlled it. What did it matter what she said?
“I advise you to look around,” he said.
“And I advise you to release me this instant. I promise I won’t even bring charges. You’ll get proper medical care... ”
Quentin burst out laughing. “Oh that’s rich... very rich!”
Simone was looking puzzled. The man seemed to be perfectly rational. However, now she looked around. For the first time, something like apprehension passed over those lovely features as Simone’s eyes lighted on the chains and manacles, the straps on the bed, the bars over the windows. However, she said nothing.
“This room has been specially prepared for you. This is where you are going to be kept,” said Quentin, again seeing that quick flash of anger in Simone’s eyes.
“I wish you would stop talking this kind of nonsense. People can’t be kept against their will. Anyway, I shall be missed. My main will report it. I shall soon be found. And then I shall bring charges of indecent assault.”
Quentin grinned. My God, he said to himself, if she reckons this is indecent assault, what is she going to think later! “You seem to think I’m stupid, woman. No one’s going to come looking for you. Your suicide will be presumed. I planned it all. Of course, your body will never be found.”
Simone Gerard was suddenly very still. She paled. He saw that she was beginning to realise he wasn’t deranged. She was beginning... just beginning... to believe it might all possibly be true. It was time to make sure she believed fully.
“I think you should meet my wife,” he said.
“Your wife!” The voice was startled, the eyes widened. “You... you mean your wife is... is aware of these outrageous goings-on?”
“Fully aware,” replied Quentin blandly. “In fact, she rather encouraged me. You see, she has her own personal slave and suggested I should get one too.”
Simone Gerard looked stunned. “I... I don’t believe it,” she said in a whisper, more to herself than anything. Simone was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t she who had gone suddenly mad! Quentin walked across the room and picked up the phone.
“Oh, Melissa,” he said after a few moments, “perhaps you’d like to come to my suite. I’ve got the woman Simone here. It might be an idea if you brought Julia with you.”
“Sure thing,” answered the voice of Melissa. “I’ll just pretty her up a bit first.”
“Right... ” Quentin put down the receiver and came back to his chair. “Julia is my wife’s slave,” he explained. “She used to be mine but I gave her to Melissa as a wedding present.”
Simone’s mouth opened. There was shocked incredulity in her eyes. How could such unbelievably monstrous things be said in such a matter-of-fact way?
“Are you beginning to believe me now?” asked Quentin.
“Of... of course not... it... it’s not possible... ” The dark head shook and hung momentarily. “For some reason or another... which is not yet clear to me... you are trying to frighten me.”
“When you see Julia, you’ll have to believe me. It’ll be a bit of a shock... so I’d better prepare you for it.” Quentin got up and picked up a hypodermic syringe off the table.
“What are you doing? What’s in that? Don’t... DON’T!” But Quentin had gripped one arm and jabbed in the needle. “Oh God... what have you done, you swine?”
“Just given you a little stimulant injection,” replied Quentin easily. “Won’t do you any harm. Just keep you from fainting too easily.”
“Fainting?”
“Fainting from shock,” said Quentin.
Simone Gerard sat tense, her breasts now heaving faster. For the first time, perhaps, she was starting to feel really scared. All the same, she strove not to show it. She sensed that Quentin would like that.
There came a knock on the door. “Come in... ”
In swung Melissa, auburn hair bouncing, looking ravishing in a brilliant green trouser-suit. By her side, on all fours, held on a lead attached to a diamond-studded collar was Julia. From her nose and nipples dangled rings to which were attached little silver bells. And there was a fourth little silver bell. This was attached to the end of a rubber dildoe which had been thrust up her anus and projected by an inch of so.
“This is my wife Melissa,” said Quentin formally as he rose from his chair. “This is the woman Simone, my dear.”
Melissa, eyes flashing, looked with obvious approval at the shapely figure tied in the chair. She saw at once that Quentin had chosen well. Simone’s lovely features, however, were not being seen at their best. They were a mask of horrified disbelief... the mouth sagging... the dark eyes starting from the sockets. A wailing sound began to come from the depths of Simone’s throat and her head shook from side to side as she looked upon Julia.
“This is my slave, Julia,” said Melissa gaily, giving a little tug on the lead. “As you see, at the moment, she’s acting as my doggie. Or should I say bitch? She’s being taken walkies... ”
“Agh... no... no... it’s not true... ” Simone turned her head away... but Quentin quickly gripped her by the hair and turned it back.
“Keep looking... and start believing me,” he rasped.
“... don’t you think those bells are pretty, Simone? Shake them for the Lady, Julia.”
Julia tossed her head and swung her breasts.
“Now show the lady where you’ve got the other bell,” said Melissa.
Julia swung round and present her bottom, which carried a half dozen or so fresh cane weals.
A terrible scream burst from Simone. “NOOO... NNNOO... NNOOO... OOO!” she cried, her voice growing higher and higher.
“In case you’re wondering,” went on Melissa in the same chatty way, “that’s a dildoe stuck up her backside. A big one. You like that, don’t you, Julia?”
“Yes, Mistress,” answered Julia immediately. “Very much, Mistress.” Since she was ‘on show’, she knew it was vital to please Melissa to the infinite degree.
“Alright, Julia, turn round and kneel up,” ordered Melissa. Julia did so, seeing the petrified features before her, yet feeling no pity.
“No... ah... no... ah... no... ah no... ” Simone kept gasping out, continuing to shake her head from side to side. Shock waves seemed to be going through her brain like electric charges.
“This Lady is Simone,” said Melissa, “but she won’t be a lady much longer because she’s going to be a slave like you, Julia. But she doesn’t quite believe it yet. She can’t imagine herself having a ring through her nose and nipples. She can’t imagine, if she’s lucky, having a dildoe stuck up her arse... ”
Simone began to shriek hysterically. “Stooo... opppp... stoo... ooppp... ooooohh... stooo... ooooppp... take her away... ooooohhh... I can’t st-stand it... oooooohhh... something must... must have driven me... mad... ”
“You seem to be upsetting the lady, Julia” said Melissa. “I think we’d better go. Wag your bottom to her first. To show how pleased you are to have met her. Make that little bell tinkle.”
Julia turned again and waggled her hindquarters from side to side. The little bell tinkled merrily.
“Good doggie,” said Melissa and gave a tug on the lead. Julia scampered from the room by the side of her Mistress, bottom still waggling.
Quentin released Simone’s head and it slumped forward. She began to tremble violently as the tears flooded from her. Going to a cabinet, Quentin poured out two large brandies. He took hold of Simone’s hair again and forced the glass to her lips. “Drink this,” he said, “you’ll feel better.”
Instinctively, Simone tried to turn her head. Then she thought better of it and took down the brandy, choking as she did so. Her weeping became less hysterical but she went on trembling. Quentin drank his brandy slowly and contemplatively. The lust was mounting steadily within him.
Soon, he was going to strip Simone.
Then he was going to **** her.
Yes... his tactics were going to be completely the reverse to those he was using on Maria and Heidi. They were being trained to come grovelling to him, offering themselves. He was happy to wait. Simone was to be taken at once, by force. For her he could not wait. Afterwards, her training would continue in the usual way, until she was as submissive as Julia and offering herself with just as much apparent eagerness.
Quentin drank a second brandy, enjoying the comforting glow. Do you believe me now?” he asked.
Silence... but for the sobs.
He went to the chair and pulled up Simone’s head. Her features looked numb with shock. The tears were now running silently down.
“Answer!” he said.
Silence still.
Quentin slapped her face and saw the anger flare in the distraught eyes. “Salaud!” she croaked in her native tongue. “You strike a defenceless woman... ”
“Of course,” grinned Quentin and slapped Simone’s face again. “Answer,” he repeated.
Simone clenched her teeth, eyes defiant. Quentin was delighted by her stubbornness. Obviously she was not going to answer at that moment. But it didn’t matter. The shock of seeing Julia had done its work.
Without even admitting to herself, she was beginning to believe. What else? Julia could not be faked.
“A little later on,” said Quentin slowly, “if you refuse to answer my questions, I shall cane your bottom. Your bare bottom. Just as you saw Julia’s had been caned.”
For a few moment, the defiance disappeared from Simone’s eyes to be replaced by a combination of shock, disgust and fear.
“You... you are m-monsters... inhuman... monsters... ” said Simone in a low, croaking whisper.
“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” grinned Quentin. “Just because someone likes to own a slave or two, that doesn’t make them inhuman. Nor monsters. People have been doing it for thousands of years... a lot of them quite respected figures.”
Simone fell silent again. The anger was coming back into her eyes. From time to time, she shuddered violently.
“I think it’s time we had you naked, my Lady” said Quentin.
The fear came back. And the disbelief.
“Y-You... wouldn’t d-dare... ”
“And, once you’re naked, you’re going to be kept naked. Permanently.” went on Quentin, moving the chair so that its back was to the end of the four-poster bed.
“Don’t touch me... don’t you dare t-touch me... ” The voice low and vibrant with fury and mounting fear.
Quentin untied Simone’s left wrist and buckled it to one of the straps on the bed-post. He was going to have to secure her step by step, since he wished to avoid a struggle. Naturally, he could have got help but he preferred to do this initial stripping alone.
“Stop... stopp... don’t touch me... oooh... cochon... filthy swine!” Simone was struggling, but uselessly. Her right wrist was buckled to the other bed-post so that her arms were spread out in a V. Then Simone’s ankles were fastened, in turn, to straps at the base of the posts... so that she ended up spreadeagled, her eyes were wild with rage and fear. From her lips came a torrent of French vituperation... interspersed with words like “b**st!” and “Swine!”
“Do you know,” said Quentin, when Simone was firmly and helplessly strapped to the end of the bed, “I think you look even more attractive when you’re angry... ”
“Let me go! Let me go, you bastard... you can’t do this to me!”
Calmly Quentin approached with a pair of scissors.
“Stoo oppp! You... c-can’t! Y-You... MUSN’T!” Simone was tugging madly at her bonds.
The scissors snipped the shoulder-straps of her costume.
Simone stopped her shouts... and went very still. Then she spoke in a low, firm voice. “I shall kill you for this,” she said. “No matter how long it takes. All my life, if need be. But, in the end, I shall kill you.”
Quentin said nothing. Just smiled faintly. There was no point in informing Simone that, following the ‘brain-washing’, though her intentions might be of the best, killing him was going to be an impossibility!
Gently he pulled the top of the costume down to expose Simone’s breasts. Well-rounded, high and firm, they were much the same as Melissa’s except the nipples were larger and darker. Simone said nothing, but she was shaking all over. Quentin even thought he heard her teeth chattering. She was staring straight ahead, rage and loathing in her eyes, chin jutting defiantly. Since she realised there was no way she could stop Quentin stripping her, she had decided not to give him added pleasure by struggling and pleading.
As the scissors now begun to snip down the centre of the costume, Simone spat in Quentin’s face.
He recalled that moment in the restaurant when he had thought, for a moment, she was going to do just that.
“Filthy pig!” she said.
Unperturbed, Quentin wiped away the spittle. “Dear, dear,” he said, “for that, I am afraid I shall have to cane your bottom. A little later on. And from what I have seen so far, it looks eminently caneable!” He snipped the costume right down to the V over the mound, then ripped it away. Simone’s teeth were now fiercely clenched and a hissing sound was coming through them. Her dark eyes were blazing with hate.
“I’ll kill you... I’ll kill you... ” she said between her teeth.
Quentin moved to the side of the bed and ripped off the last remnants of the costume, seeing for the first time the naked curves of Simone’s superb hindquarters. Fulsome... yet not too fulsome. Magnificently moulded.
“Oh yes... yes... ” he said, “most eminently caneable!”
“Y-You... you heap of stinking... vileness... ” Oh those blazing eyes! Quentin seated himself and studied the lovely body before him at his leisure. The mound was covered in rich, dark curly hair. Very much to the taste of some, but not to Quentin. He rose and went to fetch an electric shaver.
“What are you doing?” It was a shriek from Simone as Quentin returned, the machine buzzing.
“I like to see a slave’s cunt clearly,” he said calmly. Then he began to shave off the pubic hairs.
Twisting, Simone went on shrieking. “Ooohh... you swine... OOOHHHH you disgusting swine... ooooh... I’ll k-kill you!”
“If you don’t keep still, it will take all the longer,’ said Quentin unconcernedly.
Simone slumped sobbing in her bonds... and Quentin completed the shaving to his satisfaction.
Finally, with Simone wriggling desperately to avoid his hand, he rubbed in some cold cream. “Want to keep it smooth and soft,” he said, smiling.
“a****l! Filth! Oh God... I shall be sick! Oh God... don’t... don’t... ”
Simone’s head slumped again. Another torrent of tears burst from her. Quentin gazed with satisfaction at the nakedly exposed sex lips. They were neat and even, pulled a little apart by reason of Simone’s splayed limbs. That was how he liked to see a woman!
“Well, slave... you come up to my expectations, I’m glad to say.”
Up came the dark head again. Fury... disgust... contempt. “You... you should be struck dead!” grated Simone.
“Tut-tut,” smiled Quentin, “let’s not have that kind of talk.”
“Oh God... wait till I get my hands on you!”
Quentin smiled more broadly. It was going to be a shock for this woman to discover that, even if she so much as tried to scratch him, she would be overcome by a kind of paralysis! Quentin removed his shirt to expose a bronzed chest, covered with grizzled hair. Since he was going to have to move Simone to her next posture by main force, he might as well have the pleasure of feeling her nakedness struggling against his. He heard Simone gasp as he unbuckled his belt. Looking up, he saw her head turned away.
“No need to be shy, slave... take a look at your Master, if you wish,” he said as he strolled back to the end of the bed. Simone’s lovely breasts were now heaving up and down again.
“D-Don’t come n-near me... ” she said hoarsely. “Don’t... please... don’t... I c-couldn’t bear it... ”
Quentin liked that ‘please’. Rather ladylike!
“Couldn’t bear it? Dear me!” Quentin unfastened the straps around Simone’s ankles, her legs came together again.
“W-What... are... you going... t-to... d-do?” The voice now a desperate whisper again. More trembling... now more violent.
“Do, slave? I should have thought that was obvious. I am going to fuck you.”
A breathless gasp of shock. A sobbing wail of horror. The wrist straps came away. Simone was free.
“You... c-can’t... Y-YOU C-CAN’T! Oooooohhhh... let me out of here! Ohhhh... help someone... HELP... HEEELLLLPPPPPP!”
Quentin watched with amusement, and appreciation, as Simone ran wildly to and fro about the room, seeking some means of escape. How delightfully those breasts and buttocks swung and bounced! Oh yes, quite enchanting!
“HHHHHEEEELLLLPPPPPP... LET ME OUT! SOMEONE LET ME OUT! I... I’M BEING R-****D... OOOOOHHHHH... HHHEEEELLLLLPPPPPP!”
Leaving Simone pounding on the door - locked by Melissa when she left - Quentin went into the converted dressing room. There, he pulled before one of the wall mirrors a heavy wooden pillory. It was a low pillory with the wrist and neck holes about two feet from the ground, so that anyone put into it would have to kneel or crouch. Next, a short way from the pillory, Quentin placed a wooden block which had a tube of solid leather on top of it. This tube was slightly higher than the holes in the pillory and it was upon this that Simone’s belly would rest whenever she was put in the pillory... so that her hindquarters would be conveniently presented whether she was to be fucked or punished. Quentin raised the top of the pillory.
All was ready.
Quentin felt the heat in his loins intensify. He was beginning to swell and stiffen. If not necessarily the most satisfying, a ‘first-timer’ was always exceedingly exciting. Especially with a woman like Simone who had breeding as well as beauty. A woman of character. A woman of arrogance.
Back went Quentin into the living room.
“Come along, my beauty,” he said, “time for you to service your Master... ”
Simone, who had been tugging at the bars over the window, turned and he saw her face almost unrecognisable, twisted in panic-stricken terror.
“KEEP AWAY... K-KEEP AWAY... YOU... YOU FILTHY BEATS... DON’T TOUCH ME... NO... OOOOOO... HEELLLLLLPPPPPPP!”
Grinning, Quentin advanced, his hardening prick now swinging before him. Desperate, Simone tried to dodge away... but Quentin shot out a hand and, gripping her by the hair, swung her round. His hand slapped the soft bottom. Hard.
Lovely!
Simone shrieked and struck out. But harmlessly. Quentin picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack. In course of time, he had become quite adept at dealing with struggling slave-girls! A tattoo of fists rained on his back and Simone’s screams grew louder and more anguished.
“There you are, my slave... ” said Quentin, thumping Simone down on to the leathern tube and driving the wind from her, “This is where you’re going to learn to behave yourself.” While his victim was still winded and weak, he placed her neck and wrists on the semi-circles of the pillory and quickly lowered the top half. Then he turned the locking device on its side. Simone was pinioned utterly helpless.
The shock of it seemed to check her bout of hysteria. One of those periods of silence fell on her. Sobbing, she gazed at her own distraught features in the mirror before her. Then she looked up at Quentin - now fully rampant - eyes wildly beseeching.
“P-Please... mmmmfff... p-pleeee... eeease! I... I’ll give y-you any... anything... mmmmfff ,,, mmmmfff... but d-don’t... p-please don’t... ”
“But this is what I want you to give me,” said Quentin. His hand went down and forced its way between Simone’s thighs. He fingered the sex-lips. “And that’s what you’re going to do!”
Shrieking... Simone kicked and threshed frantically.
“MONSTER... MONSTER... OOOOOHHHHHH... HOW C-CAN YOU... D-DO... THIS TO... TO... A HELPLESS W-WOMAN!”
“Like this,” grinned Quentin, delving his fingers in.
Even louder shrieks... even wilder threshing.
“I’ll kill you... I’ll K-KILL... YOU... F-FOR THIS!”
Avoiding the kicking legs, Quentin knelt. Gripping the tapering thighs... so smooth, so soft... he forced them apart. He looked down. There was his new possession. Waiting for him.
“NNNNNOOOOOOOO... OOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Quentin positioned himself. His cruel desire surged fiercely.
Then he thrust in with deliberate brutality.
Thrust in fully... finding his new possession unready. Quentin had expected that. It didn’t matter. The taking of this creature... this ravaging of her... was sufficient, on this occasion.
A terrible scream came from Simone. He saw her contorted face in the mirror... eyes filled with horror and revulsion... mouth sagging open.
Good! That’s what he wanted. Yes... he wanted the arrogant bitch to loath him. It gave him all the more pleasure!
Grunting, he began to thrust in and out with a jerking motion. He did it purposely, wanting to make himself as piggish as possible. The look of revulsion on the face in front of him increased.
“This is what you’re for... ”
Thump... thump!
“To put your cunt to work... ”
Thump... thump!
“Arrogant cow!”
Thump... thump!
“To have the arse fucked off you... ”
Thump... thump!
“By any man who fancies it... ”
Thump... thump!
Simone’s eyes had closed. Her mouth was a turned-down slit of nauseous horror. She looked as if she might be sick at any moment.
Grunting louder, Quentin speeded up.
Simone was just a shade warmer and softer. But not much.
Yes... this was **** alright!
All that Quentin wanted at that moment!
He began to thrust his haunches almost frenziedly, pounding against the soft bottom, which twisted and writhed under his furious driving.
“Hhhuuuhhh... hhhaaahhhh... ”
Ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram...
Faster... faster...
“I... hhhaaahh... I’ll fuck you... ”
Faster... faster...
Ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram
“Night and day... ”
Ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram...
Faster... yet faster...
“HHHHAAAAAHHHH... HHHHAAAAAHHHHHH... ”
Quentin’s eyes were rolling. He was drooling... now snorting like a pig as he collapsed down on his moaning victim.
His haunches jerked and jerked uncontrollably as he unleashed his uncontrollable lust.
He gasped and groaned as he went on jerking and jerking.
Until he was utterly spent.
Another groan. A sobbing groan. God, that had been good! So good! His cock was still buried. His hands still clasped the warm thighs. Quentin became aware of the stillness of the body beneath him. Looking up, he saw that Simone’s head was drooping in silence.
She had fainted.
The latter had been converted into a kind of cell-cum-Punishment Room, with all the necessary equipment. The room was now entered through an iron-grille door which could be locked.
There were some changes in the bedroom, too. The windows were now barred. Chains and manacles hung on one of the walls. There were securing straps on the corners of the four-poster bed. Also on the bed-posts.
For, having decided to carry out most of Simone Gerard’s training himself, it seemed only sensible to do it in the comfort of his own suite, leaving the cells free for Melissa to continue her work.
Perhaps, later on, Simone might pay the occasional visit to the cells. Likewise, the youngsters could be brought up to him from time to time.
With considerable pleasure, Quentin levered up the top of the packing case. Yes... there she was... still in her costume, looking even better in the flesh than through binoculars. She was still out cold, breasts rising and falling gently. Quentin couldn’t resist touching one of the breasts... pushing his hand under the tight costume. It felt a little cold.
“Oh you arrogant bitch,” he murmured to himself, “you’ve no idea of the things you’re going to do for me... ”
Then he bent down and lifted the woman up, placing her on the bed, stretching her out. Yes... that was some body. And now it was his!
The first thing to be done (as was done to all new arrivals on the ‘Paradise’) was to ‘brainwash’ Simone. This was some sort of electric process, which baffled Quentin, but which succeeded in making it impossible for the victim to harm others or herself. Thus avoiding danger for both sides in the future! He put the large headset on to Simone and switched on the machine to which they were attached. There was no sound and, even though the woman was senseless, the ‘auto-suggestion message’ was being received repeatedly by her brain. Another marvel of modern science, like the Healing Treatment! After ten minutes, Quentin removed the ear-phones. That short time was sufficient to do the trick.
Then Quentin sat his new possession in a wooden armchair. He tied her ankles to the front legs and her wrists to the side arms. Her head of dark brown hair lolled as Quentin gave her a second injection, this time to bring her round. He pulled up an armchair and sat opposite, just a few feet away.
After about a minute, the breasts gave a sudden heave and there was an intake of breath. Then the eyes opened. Those liquid-brown lustrous eyes; wide-set, slanting slightly. Gradually they focussed. Then Simone Gerard’s brow furrowed.
“You,” she said.
“Me,” nodded Quentin.
“Where am I? What has happened? Who are you?” The questions tumbled out.
“One thing at a time,” said Quentin evenly.
“You’re at the ‘Maison Juane’. You have been a*****ed. I am Quentin Osman.”
“a*****ed?” Simone’s brow furrowed again. For the first time she seemed to realise she was secured by the wrists and ankles. “Why am I tied?” she asked.
Quentin liked the way she didn’t panic. This woman had guts and self-possession. “Because I want to keep control over you,” he answered.
“I don’t understand. You’re the man in the restaurant aren’t you? And you came on my boat. Is this some kind of a joke?”
“No joke,” said Quentin. “On the contrary.”
“Obviously I am being held to ransom. How much are you demanding? I may tell you I am not as wealthy as some people imagine.”
“I’m not asking any ransom... ”
“What then? I don’t understand.”
The woman looked down again. Still she was remaining calm. “Will you please cover me up with something,” she said politely. “I don’t like sitting in front of strange men in nothing but a bathing costume.”
Quentin shook his head and smiled faintly. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “In fact, I shall be taking that costume off you shortly.”
Anger, not fear, came into the dark eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Simone Gerard. “And kindly stop this charade. I’ve had enough of it. If you don’t want money, what do you want?”
“You,” came the even reply.
“Me? What on earth do you mean?”
“I should have thought it was clear. You. Your person. Your being. Your body... ”
Again the anger in the eyes. “I don’t understand. How can you? You’re talking nonsense.”
“Not a bit of it. Perhaps I had better make something plain to you, Simone... ”
“Madame Gerard to you!”
“Simone,” repeated Quentin and saw the woman bite her lower lip. “You have been a*****ed and I am keeping you here. Permanently.”
“Permanently? Are you mad?” Plainly Simone Gerard did imagine she was dealing with someone deranged. One could see her saying to herself... perhaps I’s better humour him.
“As sane as you are,” replied Quentin. “You see, Simone, you are going to become my personal slave.”
Simone actually laughed. “Slave!” she scoffed. “You are out of your mind.”
Quentin felt a little stab of anger at her contemptuous tone, but controlled it. What did it matter what she said?
“I advise you to look around,” he said.
“And I advise you to release me this instant. I promise I won’t even bring charges. You’ll get proper medical care... ”
Quentin burst out laughing. “Oh that’s rich... very rich!”
Simone was looking puzzled. The man seemed to be perfectly rational. However, now she looked around. For the first time, something like apprehension passed over those lovely features as Simone’s eyes lighted on the chains and manacles, the straps on the bed, the bars over the windows. However, she said nothing.
“This room has been specially prepared for you. This is where you are going to be kept,” said Quentin, again seeing that quick flash of anger in Simone’s eyes.
“I wish you would stop talking this kind of nonsense. People can’t be kept against their will. Anyway, I shall be missed. My main will report it. I shall soon be found. And then I shall bring charges of indecent assault.”
Quentin grinned. My God, he said to himself, if she reckons this is indecent assault, what is she going to think later! “You seem to think I’m stupid, woman. No one’s going to come looking for you. Your suicide will be presumed. I planned it all. Of course, your body will never be found.”
Simone Gerard was suddenly very still. She paled. He saw that she was beginning to realise he wasn’t deranged. She was beginning... just beginning... to believe it might all possibly be true. It was time to make sure she believed fully.
“I think you should meet my wife,” he said.
“Your wife!” The voice was startled, the eyes widened. “You... you mean your wife is... is aware of these outrageous goings-on?”
“Fully aware,” replied Quentin blandly. “In fact, she rather encouraged me. You see, she has her own personal slave and suggested I should get one too.”
Simone Gerard looked stunned. “I... I don’t believe it,” she said in a whisper, more to herself than anything. Simone was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t she who had gone suddenly mad! Quentin walked across the room and picked up the phone.
“Oh, Melissa,” he said after a few moments, “perhaps you’d like to come to my suite. I’ve got the woman Simone here. It might be an idea if you brought Julia with you.”
“Sure thing,” answered the voice of Melissa. “I’ll just pretty her up a bit first.”
“Right... ” Quentin put down the receiver and came back to his chair. “Julia is my wife’s slave,” he explained. “She used to be mine but I gave her to Melissa as a wedding present.”
Simone’s mouth opened. There was shocked incredulity in her eyes. How could such unbelievably monstrous things be said in such a matter-of-fact way?
“Are you beginning to believe me now?” asked Quentin.
“Of... of course not... it... it’s not possible... ” The dark head shook and hung momentarily. “For some reason or another... which is not yet clear to me... you are trying to frighten me.”
“When you see Julia, you’ll have to believe me. It’ll be a bit of a shock... so I’d better prepare you for it.” Quentin got up and picked up a hypodermic syringe off the table.
“What are you doing? What’s in that? Don’t... DON’T!” But Quentin had gripped one arm and jabbed in the needle. “Oh God... what have you done, you swine?”
“Just given you a little stimulant injection,” replied Quentin easily. “Won’t do you any harm. Just keep you from fainting too easily.”
“Fainting?”
“Fainting from shock,” said Quentin.
Simone Gerard sat tense, her breasts now heaving faster. For the first time, perhaps, she was starting to feel really scared. All the same, she strove not to show it. She sensed that Quentin would like that.
There came a knock on the door. “Come in... ”
In swung Melissa, auburn hair bouncing, looking ravishing in a brilliant green trouser-suit. By her side, on all fours, held on a lead attached to a diamond-studded collar was Julia. From her nose and nipples dangled rings to which were attached little silver bells. And there was a fourth little silver bell. This was attached to the end of a rubber dildoe which had been thrust up her anus and projected by an inch of so.
“This is my wife Melissa,” said Quentin formally as he rose from his chair. “This is the woman Simone, my dear.”
Melissa, eyes flashing, looked with obvious approval at the shapely figure tied in the chair. She saw at once that Quentin had chosen well. Simone’s lovely features, however, were not being seen at their best. They were a mask of horrified disbelief... the mouth sagging... the dark eyes starting from the sockets. A wailing sound began to come from the depths of Simone’s throat and her head shook from side to side as she looked upon Julia.
“This is my slave, Julia,” said Melissa gaily, giving a little tug on the lead. “As you see, at the moment, she’s acting as my doggie. Or should I say bitch? She’s being taken walkies... ”
“Agh... no... no... it’s not true... ” Simone turned her head away... but Quentin quickly gripped her by the hair and turned it back.
“Keep looking... and start believing me,” he rasped.
“... don’t you think those bells are pretty, Simone? Shake them for the Lady, Julia.”
Julia tossed her head and swung her breasts.
“Now show the lady where you’ve got the other bell,” said Melissa.
Julia swung round and present her bottom, which carried a half dozen or so fresh cane weals.
A terrible scream burst from Simone. “NOOO... NNNOO... NNOOO... OOO!” she cried, her voice growing higher and higher.
“In case you’re wondering,” went on Melissa in the same chatty way, “that’s a dildoe stuck up her backside. A big one. You like that, don’t you, Julia?”
“Yes, Mistress,” answered Julia immediately. “Very much, Mistress.” Since she was ‘on show’, she knew it was vital to please Melissa to the infinite degree.
“Alright, Julia, turn round and kneel up,” ordered Melissa. Julia did so, seeing the petrified features before her, yet feeling no pity.
“No... ah... no... ah... no... ah no... ” Simone kept gasping out, continuing to shake her head from side to side. Shock waves seemed to be going through her brain like electric charges.
“This Lady is Simone,” said Melissa, “but she won’t be a lady much longer because she’s going to be a slave like you, Julia. But she doesn’t quite believe it yet. She can’t imagine herself having a ring through her nose and nipples. She can’t imagine, if she’s lucky, having a dildoe stuck up her arse... ”
Simone began to shriek hysterically. “Stooo... opppp... stoo... ooppp... ooooohh... stooo... ooooppp... take her away... ooooohhh... I can’t st-stand it... oooooohhh... something must... must have driven me... mad... ”
“You seem to be upsetting the lady, Julia” said Melissa. “I think we’d better go. Wag your bottom to her first. To show how pleased you are to have met her. Make that little bell tinkle.”
Julia turned again and waggled her hindquarters from side to side. The little bell tinkled merrily.
“Good doggie,” said Melissa and gave a tug on the lead. Julia scampered from the room by the side of her Mistress, bottom still waggling.
Quentin released Simone’s head and it slumped forward. She began to tremble violently as the tears flooded from her. Going to a cabinet, Quentin poured out two large brandies. He took hold of Simone’s hair again and forced the glass to her lips. “Drink this,” he said, “you’ll feel better.”
Instinctively, Simone tried to turn her head. Then she thought better of it and took down the brandy, choking as she did so. Her weeping became less hysterical but she went on trembling. Quentin drank his brandy slowly and contemplatively. The lust was mounting steadily within him.
Soon, he was going to strip Simone.
Then he was going to **** her.
Yes... his tactics were going to be completely the reverse to those he was using on Maria and Heidi. They were being trained to come grovelling to him, offering themselves. He was happy to wait. Simone was to be taken at once, by force. For her he could not wait. Afterwards, her training would continue in the usual way, until she was as submissive as Julia and offering herself with just as much apparent eagerness.
Quentin drank a second brandy, enjoying the comforting glow. Do you believe me now?” he asked.
Silence... but for the sobs.
He went to the chair and pulled up Simone’s head. Her features looked numb with shock. The tears were now running silently down.
“Answer!” he said.
Silence still.
Quentin slapped her face and saw the anger flare in the distraught eyes. “Salaud!” she croaked in her native tongue. “You strike a defenceless woman... ”
“Of course,” grinned Quentin and slapped Simone’s face again. “Answer,” he repeated.
Simone clenched her teeth, eyes defiant. Quentin was delighted by her stubbornness. Obviously she was not going to answer at that moment. But it didn’t matter. The shock of seeing Julia had done its work.
Without even admitting to herself, she was beginning to believe. What else? Julia could not be faked.
“A little later on,” said Quentin slowly, “if you refuse to answer my questions, I shall cane your bottom. Your bare bottom. Just as you saw Julia’s had been caned.”
For a few moment, the defiance disappeared from Simone’s eyes to be replaced by a combination of shock, disgust and fear.
“You... you are m-monsters... inhuman... monsters... ” said Simone in a low, croaking whisper.
“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” grinned Quentin. “Just because someone likes to own a slave or two, that doesn’t make them inhuman. Nor monsters. People have been doing it for thousands of years... a lot of them quite respected figures.”
Simone fell silent again. The anger was coming back into her eyes. From time to time, she shuddered violently.
“I think it’s time we had you naked, my Lady” said Quentin.
The fear came back. And the disbelief.
“Y-You... wouldn’t d-dare... ”
“And, once you’re naked, you’re going to be kept naked. Permanently.” went on Quentin, moving the chair so that its back was to the end of the four-poster bed.
“Don’t touch me... don’t you dare t-touch me... ” The voice low and vibrant with fury and mounting fear.
Quentin untied Simone’s left wrist and buckled it to one of the straps on the bed-post. He was going to have to secure her step by step, since he wished to avoid a struggle. Naturally, he could have got help but he preferred to do this initial stripping alone.
“Stop... stopp... don’t touch me... oooh... cochon... filthy swine!” Simone was struggling, but uselessly. Her right wrist was buckled to the other bed-post so that her arms were spread out in a V. Then Simone’s ankles were fastened, in turn, to straps at the base of the posts... so that she ended up spreadeagled, her eyes were wild with rage and fear. From her lips came a torrent of French vituperation... interspersed with words like “b**st!” and “Swine!”
“Do you know,” said Quentin, when Simone was firmly and helplessly strapped to the end of the bed, “I think you look even more attractive when you’re angry... ”
“Let me go! Let me go, you bastard... you can’t do this to me!”
Calmly Quentin approached with a pair of scissors.
“Stoo oppp! You... c-can’t! Y-You... MUSN’T!” Simone was tugging madly at her bonds.
The scissors snipped the shoulder-straps of her costume.
Simone stopped her shouts... and went very still. Then she spoke in a low, firm voice. “I shall kill you for this,” she said. “No matter how long it takes. All my life, if need be. But, in the end, I shall kill you.”
Quentin said nothing. Just smiled faintly. There was no point in informing Simone that, following the ‘brain-washing’, though her intentions might be of the best, killing him was going to be an impossibility!
Gently he pulled the top of the costume down to expose Simone’s breasts. Well-rounded, high and firm, they were much the same as Melissa’s except the nipples were larger and darker. Simone said nothing, but she was shaking all over. Quentin even thought he heard her teeth chattering. She was staring straight ahead, rage and loathing in her eyes, chin jutting defiantly. Since she realised there was no way she could stop Quentin stripping her, she had decided not to give him added pleasure by struggling and pleading.
As the scissors now begun to snip down the centre of the costume, Simone spat in Quentin’s face.
He recalled that moment in the restaurant when he had thought, for a moment, she was going to do just that.
“Filthy pig!” she said.
Unperturbed, Quentin wiped away the spittle. “Dear, dear,” he said, “for that, I am afraid I shall have to cane your bottom. A little later on. And from what I have seen so far, it looks eminently caneable!” He snipped the costume right down to the V over the mound, then ripped it away. Simone’s teeth were now fiercely clenched and a hissing sound was coming through them. Her dark eyes were blazing with hate.
“I’ll kill you... I’ll kill you... ” she said between her teeth.
Quentin moved to the side of the bed and ripped off the last remnants of the costume, seeing for the first time the naked curves of Simone’s superb hindquarters. Fulsome... yet not too fulsome. Magnificently moulded.
“Oh yes... yes... ” he said, “most eminently caneable!”
“Y-You... you heap of stinking... vileness... ” Oh those blazing eyes! Quentin seated himself and studied the lovely body before him at his leisure. The mound was covered in rich, dark curly hair. Very much to the taste of some, but not to Quentin. He rose and went to fetch an electric shaver.
“What are you doing?” It was a shriek from Simone as Quentin returned, the machine buzzing.
“I like to see a slave’s cunt clearly,” he said calmly. Then he began to shave off the pubic hairs.
Twisting, Simone went on shrieking. “Ooohh... you swine... OOOHHHH you disgusting swine... ooooh... I’ll k-kill you!”
“If you don’t keep still, it will take all the longer,’ said Quentin unconcernedly.
Simone slumped sobbing in her bonds... and Quentin completed the shaving to his satisfaction.
Finally, with Simone wriggling desperately to avoid his hand, he rubbed in some cold cream. “Want to keep it smooth and soft,” he said, smiling.
“a****l! Filth! Oh God... I shall be sick! Oh God... don’t... don’t... ”
Simone’s head slumped again. Another torrent of tears burst from her. Quentin gazed with satisfaction at the nakedly exposed sex lips. They were neat and even, pulled a little apart by reason of Simone’s splayed limbs. That was how he liked to see a woman!
“Well, slave... you come up to my expectations, I’m glad to say.”
Up came the dark head again. Fury... disgust... contempt. “You... you should be struck dead!” grated Simone.
“Tut-tut,” smiled Quentin, “let’s not have that kind of talk.”
“Oh God... wait till I get my hands on you!”
Quentin smiled more broadly. It was going to be a shock for this woman to discover that, even if she so much as tried to scratch him, she would be overcome by a kind of paralysis! Quentin removed his shirt to expose a bronzed chest, covered with grizzled hair. Since he was going to have to move Simone to her next posture by main force, he might as well have the pleasure of feeling her nakedness struggling against his. He heard Simone gasp as he unbuckled his belt. Looking up, he saw her head turned away.
“No need to be shy, slave... take a look at your Master, if you wish,” he said as he strolled back to the end of the bed. Simone’s lovely breasts were now heaving up and down again.
“D-Don’t come n-near me... ” she said hoarsely. “Don’t... please... don’t... I c-couldn’t bear it... ”
Quentin liked that ‘please’. Rather ladylike!
“Couldn’t bear it? Dear me!” Quentin unfastened the straps around Simone’s ankles, her legs came together again.
“W-What... are... you going... t-to... d-do?” The voice now a desperate whisper again. More trembling... now more violent.
“Do, slave? I should have thought that was obvious. I am going to fuck you.”
A breathless gasp of shock. A sobbing wail of horror. The wrist straps came away. Simone was free.
“You... c-can’t... Y-YOU C-CAN’T! Oooooohhhh... let me out of here! Ohhhh... help someone... HELP... HEEELLLLPPPPPP!”
Quentin watched with amusement, and appreciation, as Simone ran wildly to and fro about the room, seeking some means of escape. How delightfully those breasts and buttocks swung and bounced! Oh yes, quite enchanting!
“HHHHHEEEELLLLPPPPPP... LET ME OUT! SOMEONE LET ME OUT! I... I’M BEING R-****D... OOOOOHHHHH... HHHEEEELLLLLPPPPPP!”
Leaving Simone pounding on the door - locked by Melissa when she left - Quentin went into the converted dressing room. There, he pulled before one of the wall mirrors a heavy wooden pillory. It was a low pillory with the wrist and neck holes about two feet from the ground, so that anyone put into it would have to kneel or crouch. Next, a short way from the pillory, Quentin placed a wooden block which had a tube of solid leather on top of it. This tube was slightly higher than the holes in the pillory and it was upon this that Simone’s belly would rest whenever she was put in the pillory... so that her hindquarters would be conveniently presented whether she was to be fucked or punished. Quentin raised the top of the pillory.
All was ready.
Quentin felt the heat in his loins intensify. He was beginning to swell and stiffen. If not necessarily the most satisfying, a ‘first-timer’ was always exceedingly exciting. Especially with a woman like Simone who had breeding as well as beauty. A woman of character. A woman of arrogance.
Back went Quentin into the living room.
“Come along, my beauty,” he said, “time for you to service your Master... ”
Simone, who had been tugging at the bars over the window, turned and he saw her face almost unrecognisable, twisted in panic-stricken terror.
“KEEP AWAY... K-KEEP AWAY... YOU... YOU FILTHY BEATS... DON’T TOUCH ME... NO... OOOOOO... HEELLLLLLPPPPPPP!”
Grinning, Quentin advanced, his hardening prick now swinging before him. Desperate, Simone tried to dodge away... but Quentin shot out a hand and, gripping her by the hair, swung her round. His hand slapped the soft bottom. Hard.
Lovely!
Simone shrieked and struck out. But harmlessly. Quentin picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack. In course of time, he had become quite adept at dealing with struggling slave-girls! A tattoo of fists rained on his back and Simone’s screams grew louder and more anguished.
“There you are, my slave... ” said Quentin, thumping Simone down on to the leathern tube and driving the wind from her, “This is where you’re going to learn to behave yourself.” While his victim was still winded and weak, he placed her neck and wrists on the semi-circles of the pillory and quickly lowered the top half. Then he turned the locking device on its side. Simone was pinioned utterly helpless.
The shock of it seemed to check her bout of hysteria. One of those periods of silence fell on her. Sobbing, she gazed at her own distraught features in the mirror before her. Then she looked up at Quentin - now fully rampant - eyes wildly beseeching.
“P-Please... mmmmfff... p-pleeee... eeease! I... I’ll give y-you any... anything... mmmmfff ,,, mmmmfff... but d-don’t... p-please don’t... ”
“But this is what I want you to give me,” said Quentin. His hand went down and forced its way between Simone’s thighs. He fingered the sex-lips. “And that’s what you’re going to do!”
Shrieking... Simone kicked and threshed frantically.
“MONSTER... MONSTER... OOOOOHHHHHH... HOW C-CAN YOU... D-DO... THIS TO... TO... A HELPLESS W-WOMAN!”
“Like this,” grinned Quentin, delving his fingers in.
Even louder shrieks... even wilder threshing.
“I’ll kill you... I’ll K-KILL... YOU... F-FOR THIS!”
Avoiding the kicking legs, Quentin knelt. Gripping the tapering thighs... so smooth, so soft... he forced them apart. He looked down. There was his new possession. Waiting for him.
“NNNNNOOOOOOOO... OOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Quentin positioned himself. His cruel desire surged fiercely.
Then he thrust in with deliberate brutality.
Thrust in fully... finding his new possession unready. Quentin had expected that. It didn’t matter. The taking of this creature... this ravaging of her... was sufficient, on this occasion.
A terrible scream came from Simone. He saw her contorted face in the mirror... eyes filled with horror and revulsion... mouth sagging open.
Good! That’s what he wanted. Yes... he wanted the arrogant bitch to loath him. It gave him all the more pleasure!
Grunting, he began to thrust in and out with a jerking motion. He did it purposely, wanting to make himself as piggish as possible. The look of revulsion on the face in front of him increased.
“This is what you’re for... ”
Thump... thump!
“To put your cunt to work... ”
Thump... thump!
“Arrogant cow!”
Thump... thump!
“To have the arse fucked off you... ”
Thump... thump!
“By any man who fancies it... ”
Thump... thump!
Simone’s eyes had closed. Her mouth was a turned-down slit of nauseous horror. She looked as if she might be sick at any moment.
Grunting louder, Quentin speeded up.
Simone was just a shade warmer and softer. But not much.
Yes... this was **** alright!
All that Quentin wanted at that moment!
He began to thrust his haunches almost frenziedly, pounding against the soft bottom, which twisted and writhed under his furious driving.
“Hhhuuuhhh... hhhaaahhhh... ”
Ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram...
Faster... faster...
“I... hhhaaahh... I’ll fuck you... ”
Faster... faster...
Ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram
“Night and day... ”
Ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram... ram-ram...
Faster... yet faster...
“HHHHAAAAAHHHH... HHHHAAAAAHHHHHH... ”
Quentin’s eyes were rolling. He was drooling... now snorting like a pig as he collapsed down on his moaning victim.
His haunches jerked and jerked uncontrollably as he unleashed his uncontrollable lust.
He gasped and groaned as he went on jerking and jerking.
Until he was utterly spent.
Another groan. A sobbing groan. God, that had been good! So good! His cock was still buried. His hands still clasped the warm thighs. Quentin became aware of the stillness of the body beneath him. Looking up, he saw that Simone’s head was drooping in silence.
She had fainted.
Safiya
- 04.12.2020
- 38
- 0
