The whip cracked across the back of her thighs and her howl was less than human. Liquid squirted as she lost control of her bladder. The pencil slipped from her anus and clattered on the floor.
“So you want the men to fuck you?”
“Yes - yes,” she panted, prepared to agree to anything.
The Princess Lala had bought a consignment of slaves from a white slaver in England, and had them shipped out to her desert home. The newly arrived captives are in for many shocks as Princess Lala issues her orders. First they have to walk the three miles from the airport to the city, over burning sands and under blazing heat, urged on by the canes of their captors, scorned by the Princess' subjects when they arrive, sweating and smelly, in their new home. Then they are packed into barracks, there to fight over mattresses and bunks - all semblance of civilisation being stripped from them.
Then the true degradation begins, with anal rape, gang rape, degradation and humiliation in every way possible. The Princess only wants to please the guests to her 'Pleasurepalace' and what better way than to (ab)use untrained, unwilling captives from the higher reaches of English society?
EXTRACT
The blacks shoved Venus and Elizabeth out of the way and dragged
Sally towards Baka. She shrieked with a combination of fear and rage
but she was helpless in their grasp. Both Venus and Elizabeth tried
to intervene but they had their legs kicked from under them by the
guards. As they crashed to the ground, they were rolled on their
bellies and their hands manacled behind their backs. One of the guards
sauntered up, bent and flicked the hem of Elizabeth’s short robe up
over her buttocks. Casually he yanked down the cotton knickers,
showing the red, welted bottom. He rubbed it almost affectionately.
“Fine ass.” he murmured then turned to his fellows, raising his
voice. “Hey, come and look at this bitch’s ass.”
Elizabeth ground her teeth in suppressed anger. Again, as it had
been back in London, it was she who was being picked out to be
publicly humiliated. She could see the lust on the faces of the
watching men—the same expression that she had seen on the faces of her
ravagers in London.
Several blacks had came over and were staring down at the
shapely buttocks. For the moment, all attention focussed on the
redhead.
Elizabeth’s bottom was indeed splendid; rounded, firm and creamy
skinned with the red welts from her previous thrashing lending it a
heightened degree of sensuality. She had widespread nates and an
unusually shallow, buttock cleavage. The anus tended to be convex
rather than concave e.g. it protruded slightly. Her sex lips were also
fairly protuberant and were clearly exhibited in her current posture.
But the main feature was that the skin within the buttock cleavage was
very dark, contrasting erotically with the creamy perfection of rest
of her body.
Baka intervened to stop what would inevitably have become a gang
rape.
“Concentrate on the other woman,” he growled. “Leave that bitch
alone for the moment. There’ll be plenty of time for her later.”
Obediently the blacks turned to Sally who, realising that
something nasty was about to happen, struggled madly.
The men pulled off the jacket of her tailored suit and a black
hand hooked into the neck of her blouse and ripped it down the front.
“You pigs!” she screamed. “You dirty, sadistic swine!” She
glanced at the line of women, most watching dumbly, some with mouths
open in horror, a few crying. “Help me!”
The appeal was both piteous and hopeless. The only two women
who had shown any sign of trying to help her were in no position to
intervene and the rest were clearly overwhelmed with the awfulness of
the situation.
Elizabeth had tears of humiliation pouring down her face as the
man standing over her stroked her bared bottom and then searched
roughly between her legs, locating then gripping the bud of her
clitoris. She wriggled as best she could but it was useless. Venus,
suffering a similar groping, accepted it stoically, lying completely
still; eyes fixed on what was happening to Sally Stone.
The women looked at the tableaux unfolding before their eyes.
Transfixed by the horror of what was being done to Sally they hardly
noticed the simultaneous degrading of Venus and Elizabeth.
“Help me!” Sally screamed as a leering guard ripped off her
skirt. “For God’s sake, help me!”
With her skirt and blouse pulled off, she was clad in only a
bra, self- supporting stockings and shoes. She had given her sensible
cotton knickers to Elizabeth back in London in order to grant the
redhead a modicum of concealment. At that point Elizabeth had just
been beaten and raped and had worn only the skimpy robe as an
inadequate covering. Now Sally paid the price for that act of
decency. Her thickly haired pubis was on general show. To heighten her
distress one of her captors gripped a handful of pubic hair and ripped
it from her body. She screamed with pain. She was a pathetic sight,
far removed from the confident, even domineering, image she had
previously presented. Her bra was ripped off and she was pulled to the
ground in a cloud of dust. Her full, dangly breasts flopped into view
and she tried vainly to hide her body with her forearms.
“Dirty slut. No knickers.” Baka grated though his face was
twisted in amusement. “Must have been going to meet someone for a
fuck. We want you disappointed.”
“Do something! Do something!” Sally was screaming hysterically
and Baka obliged. With a quick movement he dropped the red pantaloons.
He wore nothing underneath and his big, erect penis waved proudly in
the air. Some of his men cheered. Most of the women shrank back at the
sight.
The men had flung Sally down on her back on the hot ground and
pinioned her arms and legs, stretching them wide. She was in a
pitiable condition. A man grabbed some of her discarded clothing and
shoved them under her buttocks, lifting them invitingly towards her
ravager. The dark-haired mound, with its thick, pouting lips, was
raised like an altar to an offering.
There was no attempt to stimulate her to wetness. Baka leapt
upon her and his gleaming black buttocks first convulsed, then
straightened in one mighty thrust and Sally screamed as he tore into
her, though whether in agony or horror nobody could know. What was
certainly true was that Sally Stone, thirty three-year-old
barrister-at-law and erstwhile pillar of society, was being brutally
raped.
