Society Slaves Chapter 5

by Jefferson James

That was the last time I, or any of my family, ever saw Marta. I guess I had pushed too hard, too much, too soon.

A short while after that I got a frantic call from Ernie. He hadn’t been around in almost a month. He had fallen in love and was getting a steady supply of pussy from his girlfriend. Angie didn’t interest him anymore. He was calling to tell me that he had peeked into Claudia’s diary again and learned that she was pregnant.

“Jesus,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “I didn’t want to get her pregnant. She can’t afford an abortion. She even talked about suicide. She’s very religious and thinks that she might be carrying the devil’s baby. She thinks God allowed her to be raped as punishment for doing drugs. Oh God! What am I going to do?”

I had to try hard not to laugh. He actually cared for the little cunt. I thought for a few seconds and then asked, “Can you do that desktop publishing stuff and create some official looking medical records and things like that?”

The wheels in my head were turning and I was already formulating a plan.

“Sure,” he said, sounding a little hopeful, but a little confused. “How will that help?”

“You just leave that to me,” I said, trying to reassure him. “You get me the papers I need and I’ll see to it that she gets an abortion.”

A few days later I was following Claudia across campus with my folder full of phony medical records and documents in hand. It was lunch time and I waited until she sat down to eat.

“May I join you, Claudia?” I asked sitting down beside her.

She gave me a confused look and asked, “Do I know you?”

Fortunately we had never met. …not while she was conscious, anyway.

“I am associated with a group who helps young, unmarried women who become pregnant,” I lied.

She was shocked by my bluntness. She started to say something, but I interrupted her.

“Before you say anything, let me explain fully,” I said, smiling at her. “My associates and I use our computers to hack into the medical records of all the doctors in the area. We know that you are pregnant. If you wish to terminate the pregnancy, but do not have the financial means, we are here to help. We recognize that over-population is a serious problem and are attempting to help the situation by reducing the number of unplanned births.”

I laid out the phony medical records in front of her and held my breath. She didn’t say anything for a moment and I started worrying, hoping she didn’t notice the sweat forming on my brow.

“But having an abortion is against my religion,” she responded softly.

“Having a baby out of wedlock is against your religion too,” I reminded her. “But I am not here to judge you. I am here to help you. Your friends and family need never know. I will make all the arrangements and take care of all the expenses. You only need to agree to allow me to make the appointment.”

For well over a minute she collected her thoughts. Her eyes were closed and her face turned downward. A single tear trickled along the side of nose. Then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. I had her sign a phony consent form and phase one was completed.

I kept my word. Claudia got her abortion. I arranged and paid for everything. Everything was also carefully documented, including pictures of her coming and going from the abortion clinic. I even went so far as to pose as her boyfriend and video tape our meeting with the doctor by hiding a pin hole camera in my brief case. Now I had some serious dirt on her and Ernie was out of the picture. She was all mine.

I didn’t want to move too fast. I had made that mistake with Marta. I waited until Claudia had ample time to recover from her surgery, then I approached her again. I had enough to blackmail her, but I didn’t want to resort to that unless it was needed. Trying my best to look worried, I met her for lunch. She fell for it. She gave me a sincere concerned look and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in serious trouble,” I lied. “I owe a man —a very dangerous man— a lot of money. I don’t have any way of raising that much money without asking the women I have helped to repay the money I spent helping them. Most of them can’t do that without going to their families. It would ruin them.”

“Oh my God,” she said, now as concerned for herself and the fictitious others as for she was for me.

I changed my expression from worry to slight embarrassment and went on, saying, “The only way I know to satisfy him is to supply him with photos for his magazine. The others have agreed. It’s up to you.”

Although I could tell she still cared about my contrived situation, she now had a slight look of suspicion.

“What sort of pictures?” she asked.

I tried to look ashamed. Lowering my face, I looked up at her and said, “…topless. Your face could be hidden so that no one would know it was you.”

She wasn’t as shocked as I had thought she would be. I guess the French are a little more liberal about such things. There was, however, a definite look of trepidation in her eyes. I think she was wrestling with her religous convictions again. I needed to nudge her, but I didn’t want to push her in the wrong direction. There was still the abortion stuff to blackmail her with, but I wasn’t sure how effective it would be. I decided a pull was better than a push.

“Never mind,” I said, standing. “I have no right to ask you to do such a thing. He’ll probably just have me beaten up, maybe break my legs, but I doubt he’ll have me killed. Forget the whole thing. It’s my problem not yours.”

She reached out and gently took my hand.

“I’ll do it,” she whispered.

I couldn’t help but smile. I only hoped that she thought it was out of gratitude rather than self-congratulation for a game well played.

The guest room of our house was furnished with Louis XVI antiques and seemed like the most suitable place for a photo shoot. I rented a Marie Antoinette costume for Claudia. I also got her one of those feathered masks on a stick that courtesans used at masked balls. I had to break the stick and add an elastic strap for her to actually wear it.

While Claudia changed in the bathroom, I set up and adjusted the lights. I had taken a photography class and knew a little about what I was doing. Claudia was nervous but she seemed determined to ‘help’ me.

When she came out I had her sit at the dressing table and I snapped the first picture.

“This is for a pictorial,” I said, cocking the camera. “You are surprised by a man bursting into your room. Turn towards me and look surprised.”

She nodded and did as I said. She didn’t look that surprised, but I knew she would soon. I moved in and got a close-up of her face and ample cleavage. Her breasts looked heavenly and were practically jumping out of the top of her costume.

“Stand up and knock over your chair,” I said, moving back for a wide view. “Back yourself up against the wall. You want to run, but there is no escape. You’re even more scared than before.”

I took the next picture and then lowered the camera, giving her the most sheepish look I could fake.

“He tears open the front of your dress, exposing your breasts,” I said softly.

She blinked her big blue eyes at me and I could see the humiliation she was trying to hide. Biting her lip, she nodded and began opening the top of her costume. Her tits were gorgeous. I had seen them before but now the light was better, and she was standing up. They were standing up too. I didn’t think tits that big could stand up like that, but they sure did.

“I’m sorry,” I said, snapping off another picture. “I’ll try to get this over with as soon as possible. Next, he throws you onto the bed.”

As she laid down I smiled inside. This was great. It was as if I was raping her but hadn’t even touched her, threatened her, or anything. She was so naive and trusting, I couldn’t believe it. It was going to be so much fun bursting her bubble. Her rose tinted glasses were about to be shattered.

I snapped the picture and then took the soft, ornate swag ropes from the drapes and said, “I have to tie your hands to the headboard. The pictures are for a bondage magazine.”

She peered out at me through the mask. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she the least bit suspicious? Did she feel dirty? Was she arguing with herself, saying that helping me was more important than her modesty? I hoped so. I wanted the betrayal she would soon be feeling to be complete and total.

If she didn’t trust me, she didn’t show it. She obligingly raised her hands over her head and allowed me tie her wrists tightly to the sturdy wooden rungs of the headboard. I left just enough slack so that she would be able to turn over, but barely move.

“Your ankles too,” I said, moving to the foot of the bed. “Could you roll over? I need to get pictures of your butt too.”

She gave me a reluctant smile and nodded. Then, turning over onto her belly, she pressed her ankles together, looking back at me with those big, trusting blue eyes of hers. Her smile faded when I tied a rope around only one ankle and dragged it toward the bed’s corner post, tying it firmly in place. She made a small complaining sort of sound, but laid motionless as I retrieved a rope from the other set of drapes in the room.

As I spread her legs, I could feel her shivering. Her face turned away. She was obviously embarrassed. I took my time tying her ankle, enjoying every second of the moment. For a second time she had been led like a lamb to slaughter, and she didn’t have clue. Phase two had gone perfectly and it was time for phase three.

I snapped the last of the ‘pretext’ pictures and set the camera aside. Taking a camcorder on a tripod from its hiding place in the closet, I positioned it at the corner of the bed so that it took in the entire area of the bed from Claudia’s knees up to the top of her head.

“What’s that for?” she asked, still clueless.

I smiled and stepped around the camera to the side of the bed.

“I have a surprise for you,” I replied, removing her mask.

She looked up at me with questioning eyes and asked, “Please untie me?”

I didn’t say anything, letting her stew for as long as I thought I could. Then, placing my hand on the back of her knee, I slowly started sliding her dress up saying, “But that would ruin the surprise.”

“Please untie me,” she repeated, this time her voice tinged with fear and anger. “Let me go or I’ll scream.”

She would and I knew it. She was well aware of the fact that my parents were home, and so were my father’s personal assistant and Marta’s replacement. We were alone in this part of the house, but her voice would probably carry far enough for them to hear her scream.

“They won’t hear you,” I grinned.

I continued sliding her dress up her thigh. My other hand was secretly removing a ball gag from my back pocket. It was the same one I had used on Angie and its white surface was still smeared with her lipstick. The moment Claudia started to scream, I popped it into her mouth. As I fastened the strap behind her tossing head, I laughed and said, “I told you they wouldn’t hear you.”

Claudia was hysterical. Her eyes were open as wide as possible and filled with the look of betrayal and horror I had dreamed of. She was getting raped and she knew it. And, on top of that, for the second time she had made it possible through her own gullibility. It filled me with a great sense of accomplishment to know that I had reduced her to this level of self-loathing. And it was just going to get better.

I slide my hands under her and squeezed her huge breasts, pinching her nipples gently. As I kissed her cheek, I could feel her trembling with a mixture of fear and rage. I loved it. …caught like a fly in a spider’s web. She was mine to play with, and all she could do was lie there and wait to see what I did with her.

I had to think about this for a while. I walked back and forth beside the bed studying her restrained form. As I slowly paced, her big blue eyes never left my face. I could see the anxiety building in them. Her pretty face was twisted in anguish and tears started trickling down her flushed cheeks.

I hadn’t planned on telling her I was involved in her previous rape. A revelation of that sort would have been real risky with a woman who had a strong will. But she wasn’t proving to be that sort of woman. From her demeanor, I could tell she had already accepted her fate. I could say or do anything I wanted and she wouldn’t tell anyone. She was more afraid of being shamed than of being enslaved. I had all the stuff from the abortion, the pictures, and would soon have a video, but I really believe I didn’t need any of them to blackmail her with. Just threatening to tell the truth would have been enough.

Leaving her there to contemplate and anticipate what was in store for her, I went to my room and retrieved my copies of the photos Ernie and I had taken of her lying on the ground with her legs spread wide and her freshly raped cunt leaking cum. Looking at them brought back the memory of that night like it was yesterday. I could almost feel her tight little asshole swallowing my dick. I was looking forward to feeling it again. This time, however, she would be conscious and fully aware of what was happening to her. …icing on the cake.

When I returned to the guest room where I had left Claudia, she was pulling with all her strength, testing her bonds, trying to escape. The ropes were securely tied and the bed was sturdy enough. There was no danger of her getting free, but it did show that she still had some spirit and will left. I had underestimated her slightly. Her attempts seemed almost half-hearted, but any sign of self determination was more than could be tolerated.

Like a stepped on spider, her spirit might limp off and regenerate. So, just like a spider, it had to be crushed and smeared under foot until nothing remained. I grinned. I knew just what to do. Angie had taught me that. If I could make a proud woman like Angie feel like a slut, taking away every shred of Claudia’s self-esteem would be as easy as pulling the wings from a butterfly.

“Do you remember this night?” I asked, holding the photos in front of her face. “It’s the night you got pregnant.”

Her tear filled eyes flashed from the photos to my face and back again. There was anger in her eyes, but it was almost hidden by the degradation. Propping the pictures up where she could see them, I took a pair of scissors from my camera bag. Slowly, so that she had time to think about my every action, I raised Claudia’s dress and began cutting away her white cotton panties.

“You knew that night that you had had your pussy fucked,” I said, gently removing what was left of her underwear. “What you may not know is that you got your asshole fucked too. It’s a real pity that you were passed out and didn’t feel my big, stiff dick sliding in and out of your butt. I would have enjoyed seeing the look on your face and hearing you whimper. But, your awake now, aren’t you? My dick is nice and stiff, and your sweet little ass is ready and waiting to be stuffed again. This time, not only will I feel my cock going in and out of your butt, you’re going to feel it too, and the video camera is going to record the whole thing. …you getting your asshole reamed like a filthy, stinking, little fuckslut.”

I spent the next couple of minutes undressing, slowly, letting her stew. The expression on her face was pricelessly indescribable. As each second ticked by she fell deeper and deeper into a well of despair. She was loathing what was to come, but she was starting to accept it too. There was no salvation in sight. Submitting or resisting were not choices. She could only endure.

She tensed as I placed a small dab of Vaseline on her tiny anus. I didn’t put it there so much for lubrication, but more as a means to heighten her anxiety. It was sort of symbolic, like praying for a witch before setting her ablaze. It’s slimy touch caused Claudia to inhale deeply, her flared nostrils whistling as she realized she was another step closer to the moment she was dreading.

I climbed between her spread legs and she began to tremble. I laid myself over her back and her muffled sobs became louder and more intense. My hardon nudged her anus, squashing the glob of Vaseline between us, and her buttocks clenched in response. We stayed that way for several seconds. Both our hearts were pounding; every beat torturing her, every beat adding to the pleasure I felt, enjoying the power I had over her.

“Only whores allow a man to do to them what I am about to do to you,” I said, hoping she didn’t know better. “A lady would never allow such a vile, filthy thing to be done to her. I have pictures to prove you willingly submitted to being tied this way and are voluntarily engaging in such a dirty sex act. I wonder what your mama would think if she saw those pictures.”

I pressed forward about a half inch, depressing and flaring her oily rectum slightly.

“What would your papa think if he ever saw a video tape of his little girl behaving like a whore? …watching his baby taking a dick up her ass.”

She buried her face in her arms, hiding her anguished face from me. It didn’t matter. Just knowing the intensity of the mental anguish she was experiencing was enough.

“How do you feel?” I asked, easing my cock a little deeper into her. “You’re a whore. Do you feel like one? What’s it like having a stiff dick going up your asshole? You’re feeling trashier and filthier with each millimeter that goes in there, aren’t you?”

Almost as if she was answering me, Claudia moaned. It wasn’t a moan of pleasure or pain. It was the sound of complete and utter defeat. The last of her self-esteem was saying its good-byes. I pulled back and pushed in again. She moaned. This time, it was pain.

“Does it hurt, mon cher?” I asked, making a quick in and out motion. “You can scream if you want. Whores sometimes scream. It’s okay; no one will hear you except me.”

Not even the entire head of my dick was in her, but her sphincter was being stretched and she was clamping down, trying to keep me from going deeper. Reaching under her, I gripped her nipples between my index fingers and thumbs. I pinched softly and she let out a muffled whimper. As I continued tightening my grasp, her whimpers turned into a low scream.

“Scream like the whore you are,” I whispered in her ear, yanking viciously downward on her nipples and plowing upward into her rectum at the same time.

Even with the ball gag in her mouth, the cry she let out was fantastic. Even with my body blocking the camera’s view of my dick ramming its way deep into her butt, it would be completely obvious to anyone seeing the tape what had just happened. She had her ass full of dick and there was no denying that she wasn’t enjoying it.

The last time I had raped her asshole she may not have known it, but she sure knew it now. This time was completely the opposite of the first time. Instead of lying there motionless and quiet like before, she was howling and twitching like a wolf caught in a steel trap. She would have chewed her own leg off if it would have helped her to get free of me.

“I’m doing this to teach you a lesson,” I told her. “You may not believe this right now, but being fucked in the butt can feel wonderful. I’ll show you another time how good it can be. But, right now, I need to show you just how much it can hurt.”

Jerking my hips as fast as I could, I stabbed my dick deep into her ass several times and then stopped. I waited until her gagged off screams diminished into broken sobs and then said, “I know you don’t want anyone to know what kind of woman you have become – a whore. You want me to keep your secret too. I have all the records of your abortion, pictures and a video of you. You don’t want anyone to ever see any of it, and that makes you my whore. But you are going to do more than just let me fuck you when ever I want. You are going to do anything and everything I tell you to do. You are going to be my slave. If you ever disobey me, I’ll hurt you far worse than this.”

I dug my thumbnails into her nipples and pinched as hard as I could. Withdrawing until my dick was completely out of her asshole, I plunged back in and started humping her as fast and as furiously as possible. I was pounding her so hard, she was bouncing off the bed and into the air. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was tied down, we would have both wound up on the floor.

I had never seen a woman in such pain. I’m surprised she didn’t lose consciousness. My dick must have felt like a white hot poker as it rammed in and out, in and out. The bed started scooting across the floor as I slammed into her butt harder and harder.

She had lost control and reverted to an animal-like state; all concerns about society and religion were set aside. Only survival mattered. Satan could have been raping the Virgin Mary on the bed beside us and Claudia wouldn’t even had noticed. Her entire existence had been reduced to her own agonizing pain. Her asshole, and what my dick was doing to it, were all that mattered for the moment.

I was close to getting off and wanted to cum on her face as a further indignation. Just as the dab of Vaseline had a been symbolic of the preamble to our agreement, I would now symbolically sign that agreement in cum. Pulling out of Claudia’s wildly bouncing ass, I jumped off of the bed and groaned, “Look at me.”

When she failed to respond, I grabbed her hair and twisted her face toward my exploding dick. The first blast of semen splatted on her forehead and ran down the side of her nose. For the remainder of my orgasm I was more in control and smeared my gooey load on her lips and cheeks, mixing it with the tears that poured from her eyes. It was funny. Even as distorted as her once pretty face now was with shame, pain, and humiliation, I could still see it react with more disgust and degradation as I painted it with cum.

“Remember what I told you,” I said as the last of my load dribbled onto her chin. “If you ever disobey me, this will be very mild in comparison.”

Using her hair for leverage, I tilted her head back and held my other hand in front of her face. As I slowly clenched my fingers I grinned and told her, “If you think it hurt having my dick up your butt, just imagine what it’ll feel like with my whole hand up there. If you ever even think of ignoring one of my orders, I’ll fist-fuck your asshole. Don’t think I won’t.”

I removed her gag and asked her if she understood. She looked at me with her big blue eyes and nodded. Scooping some cum from her cheek with my fingers, I fed it to her and asked again. As my fingers left her mouth, she swallowed hard and said softly, “Yes, sir.”

After I had put the video tape in a safe place, I wiped her face with her panties and untied her. As she removed her costume I told her the rest of the rules of her enslavement; she was to get her nipple pierced and never again wear panties. All she said was, “Yes, sir.”

Without another word spoken between us, she put on the clothes she had arrived in and I escorted her out. I was now the master of two slaves.

The End of Chapter Five

(c) Copyright September 1999 by Jefferson James. All rights reserved. No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except for a single copy, by and for the person reading this notice, for private reading.