Elizabeth Berisford has sunk as low as any aristocratic woman can. She is no more than a humble sex slave in the palace of Khastan and truly believes this is as low as she can go. But the Princess and her Guests have other plans for the whipped and cowed woman. She is loaned to a brothel where she is forced to service the adolescent males of a native tribe, with the ever present fear of ferocious punishment should she fail to satisfy any of them. After that she is dragged to a public arena where she is to be whipped before the people as a spy for the rebel, Baka, and his men! It does not matter that she is innocent of the charge - the people will have their entertainment at any cost! As she hangs from the post, in front of pampered guests and the poor of the city of Khastan, she really believes this is the end!....
EXTRACT
Her sleep had been fitful. The cage in which she was imprisoned was a
diabolically clever construction whose dimensions ensured that its
occupant was kept in a state of permanent discomfort. It was too short
to lie in and too low to allow sitting or kneeling to be bearable for
any length of time; thus she was forced to continually change position
in order to minimise suffering. Both Felix and his coarse new
mistress, Corah, had urinated on the caged and naked Elizabeth
Berisford before drunkenly staggering off to the bedroom, lasciviously
entwined, with the woman loudly promising Felix the ‘fuck of his
life’. Either deliberately or accidentally they had left the bedroom
door open and Elizabeth had been forced to listen to their
‘lovemaking’, which was loud, obscene and occasionally violent.
Sometimes the sound of a hand slapping a bare body resulted
in yelps of female pain. Often, however, raucous female laughter
followed, indicating that the woman was a not unwilling participant.
Given the amount of liquor which they had consumed it was hardly
surprising that the tumult was frequently punctuated with the sounds
of expelled flatulence, usually accompanied by howls of crude
laughter.
To make matters worse for Elizabeth, a pool of stale urine
had collected in the tray at the bottom of the cage and her frequent
movements agitated the liquid, provoking an increasingly disagreeable
odour.
Despite her discomfort, she had been exhausted by her
terrible experiences and several times had dozed off. Now she awoke
with a start, having no idea of how long she had slept. Recollection
flooded back pitilessly. The obscene and drunken clamour from the
bedroom had ceased. The only sounds in the suite consisted of the
snores of Felix and Corah, the soft purring of the air-conditioning
and her own slithering, splashing movements as she tried to attain a
comfortable position. She succumbed to a sudden, intense need to ease
her bladder, feeling the warm urine splatter her inner thighs before
mingling in the tray with the stale emissions of Corah and Felix. The
tray was about an inch in depth and the level of urine was close to
the top; sometimes, as she moved, it splashed out onto the marble
floor. Her flow of urine had expelled the remaining pygmy jism from
her vagina and it congealed into a thick, greyish grunge. She
shuddered as the disgusting mess adhered to her naked body.
She was hungry, thirsty and her violated body ached; she
guessed that her need to pee, despite having drunk nothing for what
seemed like ages, had something to do with her ravaged innards. She
feared the new day, terrified of being in the power of Felix Fenton.
For the first time in many years Elizabeth Berisford offered up a
prayer to the Deity, begging for His mercy.
Mercifully, despite her fear and discomfort, her exhaustion once
again asserted itself and once more, she fell into a shallow sleep.
***
She was awakened by the sound of a flushing toilet.
For a moment she had forgotten where she was, but her
memory recovered rapidly and she cried out softly in dismay. Her limbs
were cramped and as she moved a jolt of pain shot through her. She
twisted her body and involuntarily agitated the filthy liquid in which
she lay, provoking an increase in its already odious stench. She
glanced downwards, wrinkling her nose with disgust as she saw the
large blobs of thick, grey scum clinging to one thigh. Her head bumped
the side of the cage as she tried to change position but her buttocks
slipped in the slimy tray and she was forced to put a hand into the
liquid to steady herself.
There was a dull pain between her thighs, caused primarily
by the thick, stainless steel slave ring embedded in the inner lip of
her vulva. That ring had been brutally inserted, without benefit of
anaesthetic, the previous day. The intensity of the pain varied
periodically, sometimes being just sore, at other times generating a
burn-like agony.
Her vagina and anus throbbed unpleasantly from the violence
of the gang rape she had suffered at the hands of the pygmies. Her
anus in particular felt as if it had been lacerated and forced open
far beyond its containable elasticity. Gingerly she explored it with a
finger, discovering what seemed to be an excessive dilation and
fearing that permanent damage might have been caused. At best, she
guessed that her next passing of excreta would be accompanied by acute
pain.
Yet only a few days earlier, her circumstances had been
very different.
Then, the Honourable Elizabeth Berisford had been free; a
wealthy woman, an admired beauty, fully in control of her life. It was
her heightened sexual libido that had betrayed her; that and the
skilful deception played upon her by a scheming older woman. Lured by
the prospect of a discreet, if unorthodox, experience aimed at
assuaging her strong sexual needs she had been betrayed, kidnapped and
flown with other victims to this desert hell.
Within a few short hours she had been reduced to the status of sex
slave to a bunch of sophisticated perverts.
The rapes and beatings that she had already endured had
been described to her as being merely the first part of her
‘training’. The steel ring, painfully inserted into her vulva, was
the visible banner of her slave status. She was just a female sex
thing, fated to either please her betters or be severely punished.
The depraved and sadistic ordeals which she had suffered
had been made worse by the knowledge that they were merely part of an
obscene cabaret, played out for the passing pleasure of rich and
powerful sadists. Expensively clad, lavishly fed, perfumed, smoking
expensive cigars, sipping fine brandy or a diversity of liquors those
people—both male and female - had watched her degradation with
enthusiastic and vocal enjoyment without showing even the smallest
tinge of pity, in spite of the fact that some actually knew her. They
were collectively known, as ‘Guests’ and already Elizabeth hated
them—almost as much as she feared them.
Despite the humiliations already perpetrated on her,
Elizabeth guessed that the real struggle would be for her mind.
Physically she would have to endure whatever treatment her captors
chose to wreak upon her. But if her mind resisted then hope would
still exist and escape might be possible.
