Mindbomb Revelations
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“Hi, Mom ... Yes, Rebeca is well ... She’s going to be released tomorrow ... Yes, I’ve already made flight reservations to return to Brazil ... Yes, three days from tomorrow ... Yes ... What? ... Oh, yes, of course, I’ll tell her ... I love you, too ... That won’t be necessary ... Kisses ... God be with you, too. Bye.”
After the first day in the hospital with Rebeca, Clara called her mother every day to give her the latest news. She didn’t tell where she had found Rebeca or in what condition in order not to cause further despair. The only thing she told her mother was that Rebeca had been hurt and in a place unable to make contact, but that she would explain everything once back home. Clara knew that Rebeca would want her to say something like that. They knew each other better than anyone else and trusted each other to do the right thing to protect one another.
The truth was that Clara really knew nothing during the first two days in the hospital. Rebeca was very weak and was given a lot of sedatives so that she could rest and become stable, making it impossible for her to talk. On the third day, Rebeca appeared to be much better. Nevertheless, Clara did not pressure her to recount her ordeal, waiting for her sister to start the conversation.
As Rebeca became more lucid and aware of her surroundings, her first concern was about the other women and was happy that everyone was able to get out safely from the dungeon and also receiving medical treatment, as well as visits from family members. Even Roberto and Maria from Alô Brasil came to visit her when they saw the initial reports in the newspapers.
The hospital placed everyone in the same ward. Being together was the best medicine to overcome the psychological wounds. Family members from different places, as far away as Africa, came to placate the suffering of their daughters or sisters. Relatives were advised to allow each patient to tell her story how and when they were ready, and not make any prejudgments.
Rebeca cried when she clearly recognized Clara for the first time and cried even more when the women mentioned that it was her sister that freed everyone. They cried together until they had no more tears left to shed.
Little by little, Rebeca recounted her odyssey, many times jumping erratically from one episode to another without sequence, many times repeating an episode only to add an unforgotten but important detail. However, in the end, Clara was able to fit the pieces together and had a very good idea what had happened.
Rebeca’s research at the university was going well. Her mentor, a professor of literature, helped to put her on the right path so that she could conclude her academic studies with success before returning to Brazil.
On the day after Carnaval, Rebeca woke up with a tremendous headache and pain all over her body. She thought it was the beginning of the flu. It was one of the coldest winters on record and everyone was coming down with at least a cold. Maria at the Alô Brasil restaurant gave her an analgesic and the next day Rebeca felt like new.
However, a few days later, she experienced the same symptoms, only this time she remembered several bizarre sights from the previous night of men standing in the shadows around her. Their silhouettes were large, yet vague and uneven, and they seemed to be wearing clothes that one would not find in some everyday department store. Her hands, arms, chest and waist were tied to a structure similar to a cross. Roaming hands were holding her knees apart and she could hear different voices enthusiastically shouting out numbers in increments of a thousand.
On another occasion, she sensed being tied like an animal to be slaughtered, hanging from chains, her body being hoisted by overhead pulleys at an angle with her rear up in the air, exposing her most intimate parts. The shadowy forms were present again while someone rammed something thick and large into her, stretching and tearing her entrance, until she lost consciousness.
She woke up one morning and had a hard time trying to recall the grisly sounds of people chained, being whipped, crying. She couldn’t remember if or what she saw. However, the sounds themselves were enough to torment her. It seemed impossible that no one else heard the suffering cries.
By the end of February, she was weak, exhausted, and just wanted to stay in her room. She thought she was going to die. But then, the Russian woman brought breakfast to her room making her swear to secrecy. The woman also brought tea, biscuits and cookies, along with an analgesic for several nights.
One day, Rebeca woke up and didn’t know how long she had slept, or the time of day. She was in a dark, damp and chilly place, similar to previous occasions. The smell was nauseating; the darkness frightened her and kept her awake. She was completely naked, lying on a cot, covered with a course blanket that smelled like cat litter. Furthermore, one of her hands was chained to the wall.
She cried for help and heard feminine voices nearby, identifying themselves by their names. Some spoke languages that she didn’t understand, but within a short time discovered that everyone shared similar stories. Everyone had been a boarder of the pension where the prison henchman ran the dungeon at night and performed maintenance at the pension during the day.
Among the prisoners were university students and ambitious young women from small villages, pursuing promising futures. Most of them had given up their dreams and accepted their fate as sex slaves. No one knew where they were or how they got there. Some thought they had been drugged, but weren’t sure. They weren’t sure about anything if they were alive or for how long.
Their horrifying situation sounded similar to news reports coming from regions controlled by fanatic Islamists where young adolescent girls were being kidnapped, sold and sexually abused in the name of their god, Allah.
There were only eight cells in the dark dungeon. Rebeca was the newest addition. She took the place of another woman who had been there for more than two years and no one wanted her anymore. There were others whose fate was similar to hers who simply disappeared from one day to the next, being discarded like worn out tires. One of the women even commented that they were being substituted by “a young mare to keep the stables filled.”
There were two chambers, one at each end of the row of cells, where one or more men took a woman. Chains hung from pulleys attached to the ceiling. They could be arranged in such ways that a woman could be hung in several different positions. Along the walls, a variety of whips, canes, rackets, cuffs, ropes, tapes, branding irons, gags, blindfolds, and much more were on display ready to be used. There were also different kinds of equipment, including a bed, where the women were tied and subjected to the most vulgar and painful forms of sexual torture. These were rooms where the men could satisfy their perverse fantasies, at times applying punishments for stupid reasons, yet at the end the women were raped and sodomized anyway.
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Please email me at AngelJediGirl (at) gmail (dot) com before posting this story to any other site. Posting to a pay site is prohibited. Comments and suggestions are also welcome at the above email address. --- Sarah Carerra By AngelJedi (Released: April 19, 2010) Chapter 31 - Revelations "Megan Campbell?" the nurse called out from where she was standing near the reception desk of the L.A. Gender Clinic. I gulped, but stood up. I wasn't sure what they were looking for, and...
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Disclaimer: The usual ... if you're underage, stop reading (and how did you get a hold of this in the first place), if you're offended by transgender or transsexual ideas, stop reading, and if you're unlikely to enjoy erotic descriptions of sex, stop reading. Permission granted to re-post on any free site with attribution. You really ought to read "Changes In Paradise, parts 1 - 9", if you haven't already. Those narrative threads must be held in memory or many parts of what follows...
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Do you know of the porn site Motherless.com? You should. I’ve reviewed it a few times on my site, The Porn Dude, although it was for different genres every time. This time around, I’m going back to this place and looking at a specific and niche little category many of you are just begging me to cover. We’re looking at vintage porn today. While it doesn’t have the same resolution and quality as the porn you can find today, it’s definitely a genre of porn that has a lot of personality to it and...
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Motherless. A one-word website title that says everything it needs to say. This is a site where the rules are, more or less, completely thrown out the window, morality means absolutely nothing, and there is nobody to save you from it. Hedonism is God here.The site likely is also called this due to the fact that the girls who end up on motherless.com likely have no positive female influence in their lives to keep them from it. Motherless is the place parents spend their whole lives fearing that...
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Creampie Porn SitesNo matter what type of porn you may be in the market for, Motherless has an ample supply of it, and cucking is no different. Actually, this might help to explain how you ended up being such a pussy little cuck.The journey that brought you to my website reading cuck porn reviews started in your childhood. A fair portion of my readership is actually motherless. Why, you ask? Your guys' moms chose a life of cucking and riding cock instead of raising you fucks properly.Don't worry, gents. I'm in...
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Incest Porn SitesThanks to my usual cast and crew of Editors and Advance Readers, most of whom prefer to pretend that they don’t know me and wisely wish to take no responsibility for any part of my addled writings... Il n’est rien de réel que le rêve et l’amour - Nothing is real but dreams and love (from Le Coeur innombrable, IV, Chanson du temps opportun by Anna de Noailles) She was my one true mistress and ever faithful lover, my Green Lady and guardian of my dreams and now that I was back home...
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Have you ever heard about a wonderful site called “Motherless”? I have a feeling that was a dumb question, of course, you fucking have. Well, I am here to talk about Motherless, but I shall also pay special attention to their Arab category. If you think Arabian sluts are hot, well you are in for a tasty treat, believe me.First, I should probably warn you that the name of this place comes from the fact that their content might be a bit too hardcore or questionable for some of you. Back in the...
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Facial Cumshot Porn SitesUnd draußen schallte wieder Punkmusik aus dem Ghettoblaster – von der Eisenbahnunterführung bis zu seinem Haus! Punks und Skater hingen da ab. Das war diese Art von Jugendlichen, die ihren Eltern das Leben schwer macht , die von Arbeit nichts hielten, sich an keine Regeln hielten, ständig auf Party machten. Die soffen viel zu viel und kotzten dann in irgendeine Ecke. Denen bedeutete doch nichts und niemand etwas. Wahrscheinlich nahmen sie auch Drogen und trieben weiß-Gott-was mit...
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Fetish Porn SitesAbsinthe 2: The Absinthe of Malice By Morpheus The flight from Seattle to Boston had been extremely long and uncomfortable, even with the two hour delay in Chicago where I got to stretch my legs and change flights. My book had given me something to do during the countless hours in the air, though admittedly, Collin had been my largest savior from boredom. The two of us had ended up talking for over half the flight, and by the time we finally landed, I was even starting to consider...
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kEthel sat with her tits nailed to the work table. Her tits were swollen to twice their normal size from the beating they had received from Harry and Rob and the axe handle. Ethel sobbed both from the pain and the feeling of despair and hopelessness. She knew she would not be able to sweet talk the men into letting her go without anymore abuse. Harry and Rob arrived and again Ethel begged and pleaded with them to let her go. The men laughed and told her they still had a few more things they...
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IncestThelma was 22 and like all of the young women at that time was still living at home with me and our parents in rural Kent; even though she had a good job in local Department Store. I was 15 and had just left school. The summer of 1965 was particularly fine so it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit around our secluded garden reading a Detective novel when my parents were at work. The difference today was that Thelma was on the first day of her annual holidays and had joined me wearing a very...
Darren James POV: I just got a call from Lenny (Jonah) telling me we weren’t going to Ibera’s until tomorrow morning. He wanted me to let Jim Bob know since he had called using a satellite phone. He said things were hectic and not to worry since we were just going to do some training with the Professor, his wife Brenda and his two sons, Charlie and Bob. He said that some of the prisoners had caused some kind of scene and Ibera had turned a whole bunch of them into pillars of salt! Holy...
Ethel hung by her wrists while Harry and Rob left to get some rest. She nodded off from time to time but the fog of her mind cleared she realized that other than when they punched her she actually enjoyed the way they that fucked her so hard and so brutally. She enjoyed the helpless feeling as they ravaged her body. She believed that she could talk to the two men and they would release her without too much more abuse. She was wrong.As Harry and Rob drove back out to the warehouse they talked...
Ethel hated her name. She was born during the tenure of I Love Lucy. The beloved Ethel Mertz from the television show was the bane of the real life Ethel's existence. There were the jokes about her having to marry Fred. There was only one Fred in her high school class. He wasn't her type; not even if he was the last man on earth. Ethel was every bit the epitome of her name. At five feet even her looks, dress and vocabulary mimicked the character she despised. Although she fought to break the...
From the Journal of Olivia Delacroix - Sixth entry.I have yet to share the truth with anyone, even Emma, with whom I have grown closer to than anyone else in my life. It tears at me, keeping secrets, here, where we have torn down the walls separating us. I feel apart suddenly, and it is not a feeling I find comfortable. Before, I would leave the thoughts within these pages for all too see. Now, I hide my journal, unwilling to share and guarding my feelings jealously, wishing I could simply slip...
Fantasy & Sci-Fi