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Last night, I dreamed of a black horse. Upon waking, I looked in thedictionary of dreams I keep in my bedside table, to see if there is anysignificance to this particular night time vision. It seems a dream ofa black horse is a dream of passion. Considering all that has happenedin the past weeks, I am not surprised. (bdsmlibrary.com)
Michelle (Witchie) Murray, 32, of Souris, Prince Edward Island, again thoughtshe was dreaming. But the hot Sudan sun and smells of the burning sand floorof the ramshackle desert corral, converted for captive women instead of blackstallions, told her differently.
?These warm steel bands on my ankles, wrists and neck are sooo heavy,? theyoung mother thought, reminding herself too graphically she was naked andharness-gagged under the hot desert sun, chained for the last 12 hours toher next-door neighbor, Betty Agnew, 30.
Passion was furthest from her mind just now; she was scared to death. Passionwould come later, much later.
The attractive, 5-9, 42DD-28-38 Toronto university grad whose head-harnessedcockgag did little either to disguise her pretty face or dull her agile,witty mind, was about to be sold into slavery with best friend, Betty.
Michelle?s thoughts and intellect restored slowly and she opened her blueeyes gradually against the brilliant, white-hot sun: unable to speak, herinner voice described what she saw. She wanted to ease her mind from thebondage and future that lay ahead -- but she could not:
?Buyers, circulating around Betty and me, and this gaggle of other whiteand black women, all of us chained together like cattle. Maybe if I closemy eyes, they?ll all go away. And I?ll say to myself: "Witchie" it?s alljust a dream.?
But it?s not!
?I force my eyes open once again and all I see is this friggin? head-harnessthat keeps this huge, India-rubber cock gag deep in my mouth. Oh, no!! IfI gag once more I?m gonna call it quits. And that bright sunlight makes mewanna sneeze!! Oh, no!! Oh, noooo!! Acck!! Here it comes. . . . ?
"Ah, ah, ahhhh . . .ahh-feeef!!" ?Now I can?t hear; my ears are blocked.Darn this gag!!?
"Gaa-aaahhh!"
?Maybe if I close my eyes once again, it?ll all go away. But it won?t!!This bizarre chain of events that brought Betty and me to this strange placekeeps coming back. Dammit!!
?Here I am, naked as a jaybird, standing here, chained to Betty an? theothers, getting baked under this incredibly hot sun; they haven?t given mea stitch of clothing to wear. And that Betty there, she looks like she?sabout ready to orgasm. Again!! Betty, for heaven?s sake!! Think of a brokenarm, your ex-, or something!!?
?I?ll just ignore her for the time being; she?s clearly off and away insubspace somewhere ? lucky her -- and maybe, just maybe, if I smile at thatcute electrician over there? Aww, he?s not lookin?!! He?s busy.
?What?re those faint, electronic whirrings creeping into my ears again fromthe sides? Ohh, these shackles are aching on my neck and ankles!!I don?t wanna look!!?
Mrs. Michelle Murray?s sunburnt back, striped from a light lash she hadreceived at dawn a few hours ago while straggling along in a long coffleof chained women, carefully corralled into the desert slavemarket, made Michellerealize she and Betty had to "escape or die."
?I know I?m a registered slave, on a British registry, and ?owned? by ?fuckfriend,? my Newfoundland Dom, but I never thought I could be bought,? Michellesaid to herself, her lips trying to adjust for the 141st timethat morning to the huge, black cock strapped inside her mouth.
?But I?ll just have to be silent, for now, as long as I have to continuewearing these chains and this darn gag. I?ll show ?em; I?ll just stand hereand look a little more defiant than they?ve bargained for. I can?t move withouthauling Betty off this rickety, little stand but if I can?t speak, my bodylanguage will speak for me.
?Hah. So there, you bastards!?
Michelle?s ice-blue eyes glared hot defiance out around her black head harnessgag as she held her wrist chains in quaking hands, noticing her forearmsreddening by the hour.
?Betty, your mouth is free; why don?t you speak? Or is that big dildo gettingto you again?? Michelle?s eyes said to her African-Canadian friend -- sheof the soft, slightly- pendulous breasts Michelle wished she had.
?Those faint whirrings again. Those high-pitched, excited conversations,men?s and women?s voices gabbling English and Sudanese around us. Gosh, willthey ever finish?
?Even my wrist chains are getting warm under this sun. Maybe if I hold myneck chain this way it?ll ease the tension on my neck and poor Betty?s. Ohmigosh,there she goes again!!?
Michelle grasps for her neck chain to ease the tension on her neck, pausingto remember for a moment yesterday when she stood in the desert and triednot to look while Betty -- ?my goodness, I never realized what a gorgeousbod. she had til then? -- inserted a well-lubricated, 10-inch-long, three-inch-diametersteel dildo into her sex while that cute, young female Sudanese guard lookedon, supervising.
Then, there were those sinister-looking, dark-skinned men with their mirror-finishedpolarized sun glasses, looking on appraisingly, getting hard while they didso. ?Fuck them!? Michelle thought.
?Yeh, right, Betty; you probably enjoyed every minute as you wriggled yourbutt and waggled those 38C tits of yours, trying to ease that big intruderinto yourself. Showstopper, all right.
?Then, that young guard had so quickly strapped and locked it in place foryou; I wonder what it feels like to have a steel cock strapped inside yafor a day! Probably better?n? this darn gag!!
?Betty, why don?t you talk to me? You know I can?t talk back. Or even fightback. Betty?
?Golly, I think Mrs. Agnew is actually loving every minute out here!! Waittil I get you back in Souris, Betty Agnew; you?ll get a piece of my mind!!?
Betty?s mouth had been left ungagged by the crews but Michelle?s was securelygagged with a head-harness; but Betty?s furrow was penetrated by a locked-insteel column while Michelle?s was free and, more or less, available.
Steel gripped the two women at necks, wrists and ankles and both were boundto each other by a 10-foot sturdy chain between their locked collars.
The odd, faint whirrings continued and Michelle moaned softly listeningto Betty?s soft groans as she tried inconspicuously to ease her vaginal lipsaround the big steel intruder.
The bidding continued as the whirrings buzzed in the background.
A desert sheikh, Tariq el-Assizes, known to his countrymen as ?Tariq theTerrible? and to Interpol as ?Big El,? made a bid of 500,000 British poundsfor Michelle (Witchie) Murray and Elizabeth (Betty) Agnew, ordinary, prettyCanadian housewives from smalltown Atlantic Canada, duped into slavery bya ruse from that same Canadian sailor, Peter, whom Michelle had trusted soimplicitly months ago.
Peter, the cad, took advantage of Michelle?s adventurous spirit and, tohim, an apparent lack of forethought, as he arranged the terms of her contractedsale into slavery, along with Betty?s, through a series of business transactionswith shady figures in the Middle Eastern underworld ? and a group of disreputablemoviemakers.
Michelle and Betty stood by, looking at one another with amazement and fear,as the bidding climbed and climbed until, finally, Sheikh el-Assizes silencedhis competition with a bid of 850,000 pounds for the two Island women, sunburningunder the bright, merciless desert sun, their normally pale skins turninglobster-red.
As the sale was closed and money exchanged out of sight, Michelle reaffirmedto herself her body could be bound, chained and sold as merchandise but hermind and spirit would always ? always ? be free.
That is until she could figure a way how she and her friend could escapecaptivity -- and that strange, whirring sound -- chained, gagged and dildo-edas they were. She was stunned by the fact she and Betty were worth 850,000British pounds on the slave market ? or nearly $1,700,000(Cdn.).
Hours later, the two women, still chained together in the back of an oldarmy truck parked in the late-afternoon shade outside a dusty corral in themiddle of the Sudanese desert, pondered an unlikely escape.
"?Witchie,? that guy back there, the one with all the tools, said just nowyou?re a marked slave," Betty said, gasping as she tried again to ease hersex around the big, brutal steel dildo. Michelle looked at Betty throughher head-harness gag, looked down and thought it would not be a really goodidea to explain the barcode tattooed so recently on her neck, hidden underher one-inch-wide steel collar rivetted on her neck, which had made her earsring for days afterward.
?This is all a big misunderstanding,? Michelle thought, as she shook herhead in denial, making the three locks on her head harness clack idioticallyin reply. ?I?m a slave ? in thought only -- but I?m having a whole lot oftrouble with that concept right now.?
Betty, meanwhile, was just trying to get comfortable. Michelle sympathizedbut she could neither say nor do anything about her friend?s bondage or herbig ?intruder,? just as Betty was powerless to do anything about Michelle?s.
Moments later, Betty wriggled over to Michelle?s side, put her head on Michelle?ssunburnt shoulder, whispered in her right ear, glancing at her best friend?sbarcode, and said: "Mich., I hope you?re thinking like me to plan to getthe hell out of here. We just need to find a way to get out of these chains,knock a guard on the head and drive this goddam truck outtahere. Gosh, Michelle,you do have a barcode on your neck! Witcheeeeee?!!"
"Mmmppphhh, Bttn," Michelle chided, shaking her head. She wantedto convey to Betty the idea that she would plan their escape, nother, and she would explain the barcode another time. Michelle Murray hada better idea.
Betty had been a hot-headed, impulsive youth and those traits had carriedover into her 30s. A few months ago, she had even bound Michelle in a tighthogtie as a mid-winter Wednesday afternoon prank, leaving her that way untilshe came over to untie her about suppertime. But Betty?s rashness was slowlybeing replaced by something more, something more power-related, after shehad read a book on D/s relationships and bisexuality.
?I?m thirsty, naked, chained and sooo tired,? Michelle groaned toherself as she leaned gingerly on Betty?s sunburnt shoulder. ?How are wegonna get out of this fix? We?re in th? middle of nowhere and nowhere torun to, fixed like this.? Whirrr.
Michelle swore she would give Peter a piece of her mind when, or if, shegot back to Prince Edward Island.
But that would not happen for another six weeks. Or more.
Meanwhile, Michelle?s cock-gagged throat was parched and she would giveanything for a tall, ice-cold glass of icewater, just as she had read notlong ago in Stephen?s King?s Gerald?s Game. Putting it to her lipsand drinking it, like King?s heroine, would be another matter but the crewhad already thought of that.
Suddenly, the rear canvas of the truck was pulled back, revealing to themthe figure of a young, black woman in combat fatigues, carrying a submachinegun,big flashlight and a large, blue cordless drill. Other shady figures appearedin the dusky, dusty background as the sun began to set on the desert horizon.
It would be pitch dark, instantly, in five more minutes. Michelle and Bettyhad already witnessed the spectacular, fiery-orange African sunsets and wereshocked at how suddenly the brilliant hues were changed to utter darknessso rapidly, only to be lit moments later by countless points of light abovethem in the big sky.
"You, Betty; eev you don?t want to zee your frand zuffocate, or die of thirst,or both, before tomorrow, take zis drill and bore a hole through her gag," shesaid. "That way, at least, she?ll be able to breathe and dreenk." A strange,soft, grey cylindrical object protruded near the woman?s head as she spoke.
The young guard, about the same age as Betty, tossed the heavy drill toBetty?s chained feet and she looked at it warily. She had never before useda power drill, much less on Michelle?s attractive face, and she did not evenknow how to turn it on. Her ex-husband had looked after all those sort ofthings around home.
Michelle thought it was better than the way she was presently and pickedup the drill for Betty, squeezing the little trigger in her chained hands.
"Vrriiing, vrriinng," the 18-volt drill whined sharply. Michellelooked at the 5/8ths-inch, extra-long drill bit and, with a series of handgestures and facial expressions, convinced her nervous neighbor to drillout a hole through her rubber gag.
"I dunno, Michelle, I don?t want it to slip and cut you," Betty said, holdingthe drill in her chained hands.
?Mmmfffrrrrrmmm,? Michelle replied, gesturing and glaring at Bettyto drill a hole through the now-sopping gag.
Gingerly and awkwardly, Betty, kneeling in front of her naked, cross-leggedfriend, their chains tangling, placed the drill bit against the butt of thegag and slowly squeezed the trigger, scowling in concentration.
"Vrrrrrr, vrrrrrr, vrrrrrrrrrrnnnnngggg."
Michelle closed her eyes, hoping Betty?s hands would be steadier. Bettylooked closely at her work and at her friend?s harnessed face and continued,more slowly, while Michelle sat patiently; then as Betty gained a littlemore confidence in her chore, pressed a little harder and deeper as the sharpdrill bit ate away at the hard rubber inside her friend?s mouth.
Moments later, Michelle felt the bit poke through at the rear of her throatand she had a 5/8ths-inch hole that allowed her to breathe, although withan annoying whistle but, if someone assisted, she at least could drink somewater. Eating was yet another challenge to be explored and overcome.
"Whew," Betty said, withdrawing the drill and bit carefully awayfrom Michelle?s face. "Glad that?s over. Witchie, you all right?"
Michelle opened her eyes and nodded, softly whistling her thanks to herlovely, perspiring friend as the two heard soft applause from somewhere offin the night.
An hour later, the young guard returned to get the power tool, suspectingthe two ?slaves? might have used it to drill off their chains. (Michelleand Betty had thought of that, tried but the bit slipped too easily off thecircular steel surfaces of their shackles).
The guard, Amina Allenby, tossed in a canteen of tepid, dusty water to thepair.
Betty took the tin in her shackled hands and poured two cupfuls down herparched throat while Michelle looked on thirstily; then she carefully poureda small rivulet down Michelle?s pierced cock gag and Michelle, trying hardnot to spit up, managed to get down a couple of cupfuls as well.
Whirrrr.
Michelle snuggled against her friend as night fell, wishing the ache inher jaw would subside as she tried once again to adjust her mouth aroundthe big cockgag. Suddenly, both women were startled upright by a crisp, maturefemale voice:
"Cut. And that?s a wrap for tonight. Excellent work, Michelle and Betty.Sound, cine and lighting crews, Betty and Michelle, my trailer, 20 minutes.Discuss the midnight shots.
"Good work, people."
Michelle wondered if she was going to be able to speak at tonight?s director?smeeting.
"C?mon, gal; let?s get dressed," Betty said, tugging on her chain.
Michelle Murray and Betty Agnew had another six weeks of production to goand they were loving every minute. They looked forward to seeing their new,five-figure bank accounts back in Souris in a few weeks.
The 77-minute bondage movie Sold was well into production and Michelleand Betty were quietly pleased at their new-found stardom.
Oprah
- 15.10.2020
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