Introduction

 

The Second Great Depression of 2129 caused economic and social upheaval on a global scale. Millions starved and billions were made homeless. The widespread social chaos overwhelmed many governments worsening the problem. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse -- petulance, war, famine, and death -- were everywhere, even in North America and Europe

There were endless theories about what had caused the crisis, but very few people cared. Those who did mostly accepted the "natural business cycle" explanation and prayed for a quick end to the troubles. This cam a decade later and it happened almost exclusively in the cities.

The cities had the scale to make a difference. People began to pool their resources and to make the sacrifices that fostered economic growth. Gradually, as with any self-correcting cycle, economic momentum began to build, fostering more and more growth. With two years, it was clear that the cities represented opportunity. Millions moved and took up residence in the massive slums beginning to emerge around the cities' perimeter. This great migration from the rural areas to the cities furthered the recovery by providing a generous supply of cheap labor.

It was a boom time for the metropolises and a disaster for the small towns, cities, and rural areas that didn't have the scale, the resources, or the population to bootstrap their own recovery.

The migration to the cities, however, created other problems like enormous slums and a general depopulation of the rural areas (now referred to derisively as "the outback"). More importantly, the migration and class system it created changed social mores. People became less interested in basic human rights, individual dignity, and even the value of life itself, and more interested in the means of survival.

As the cities' rich got richer from the labors of the poor, the poor began to find their voice. Mostly, they wanted jobs that provided a living wage and a path out of poverty. The more extreme (still called Communists) wanted the social safety net reinstituted. The rich had no intention of giving up any of these things easily.

What the rich offered instead were various "Road to Riches" proposals. They came with a mountain of words, but in essence their purpose was to remove the "obstacles to enrichment" which they claimed were the legal restrictions against indentured and voluntary servitude. The claim that "anyone willing to work hard, to give up their freedom and their free will for a few years of guaranteed labor would share the wealth." It was in effect a lease on an individual's labor.

The idea was marketing genius and it kept the poor at bay. It was also an alienation of the "unalienable human rights" on which most of Western society was built. Surprisingly, very few people objected; given the choice between survival and idealism, they chose survival. Many intellectuals even argued that "indenture" and "servitude" benefited society as they would eventually result in wealth redistribution.

Abe Lincoln rolled over in his grave.

America's VolServ (Voluntary Servitude) laws and its VolServ contracts soon became models for the rest of the world. Over time, lawmakers and lawyers added personal services and even sexual services to the contracts. Given the desperate world situation, they argued, it was immoral for society to prevent an individual from selling his or her "sexual rights."

People generally accepted this logic and the rich pushed for ever more daring VolServ contracts. Slowly, the idea of "enthrallment" emerged which included contract provisions for sex and BDSM. People called those who signed these contracts "thralls."

Some people objected of course, calling this "slavery by another name," but society had had enough. The VolServ laws and the enthrallment provisions were both hailed as "progressive."

AmerromA AmericA, just outside Las Vegas, was the first business venture to take full advantage of the new thrall laws. It offered ordinary citizens the ability to "own" his or her own thrall for a time, to put them on a leash and walk freely through the new town, to watch them race each other pulling a chariot, to punish and have sexual relations without fear of reprisal. All of this within the setting of a miniature Rome, the hedonistic capital of the ancient world.

AmerromA AmericA was an instant success, which prompted the organizations leader, Bob Cushing, to open another in Arabia, AmerromA ArabiA, and one in Thailand, AmerromA AsiA. They thrived as well, producing spectacular returns for their investors.

As with most new ideas, there were abuses. One of these was that the new thrall laws made it easier to hide the abduction of girls who did not consent legally. Madisyn Foley and Samantha Ryes were two of the early abduction victims. What made them more interesting than a standard run-of-the-mill kidnapping was that they were taken by Rocco DeCastro, the legitimate manager of the 100% legal AmerromA ArabiA. His action not only threatened the AmerromA International Corporation, a division of the Lady Luck Corporation run by Bob Cushing, it also encouraged the development of a new criminal enterprise, one run by legitimate companies hiding behind the thrall laws.

Bob Cushing had made it a principle of his company that no AmerromA site would ever violate local law. Rocco DeCastro's illegal side-business of kidnapping young virgins then selling them into the illegal slave market found in Eastern Europe put the entire AmerromA enterprise at risk.

 

Chapter 1 - Madisyn

 

When a man says a woman is beautiful, he usually means she's sexy.

This is not to denigrate the pure aesthetic of a woman's form; it is simply a fact: men think women are "beautiful" when they are sexually attractive enough to arouse his passion. If the man is imaginative enough, he is already making love to this female vision in his mind. Love that usually begins with lugubrious foreplay and ends with a bone-crushing orgasm.

The analog for this is a woman's reaction to another beautiful woman. In most cases, she immediately begins to dis-assemble the beauty, finding fault with each part and trying to make the case that these faults overall disqualify her from being "beautiful." The origin for this reaction is also sexual. Buried deep in a woman's brain is the primitive mandate that she is individually responsible for prorogating the species and to do this, she must have male lovers. Disparaging the competition is one manifestation of this.

Madisyn (Syn) Foley was no exception. She was catnip to men and poison to women. There was something in her look that drove men wild with sexual desire, that made them cast her in their wet dreams and masturbation fantasies. Women, true to form, declared that her mouth was too big, her lips too full, her bedroom eyes too sultry, her body too slim, too athletic, her legs too long, her breasts too pointy, her ass too round.

Her looks made her, in both high school and college, a celebrity, which also forced her to act like an ice-princess, distant and isolated.

This made her disappearance even more believable. Most people assumed she had run off with a lover, some handsome stranger she had met off-campus. Her close-knit wealthy family dismissed this theory out of hand.

"Syn," they said through their attorney, "wasn't that kind of girl."

They managed to raise enough Hell to move both the police and the media to action. This stirred up a lot of dust, but it didn't solve the mystery of her disappearance. There were no credible sightings, no new developments, and no further information. The newspapers lost interest within days. The police stuck with it a while longer then finally concluded that, "although Ms. Foley's disappearance might involve foul play and even a random crime of passion, we have no leads or clues and therefore nothing more to investigate." Lamely, they promised to keep the case open.

They were wrong, however, about Syn's disappearance: it was anything but random. Her abductors had had her in their sights for months; they knew exactly the kind of girl they wanted; and exactly how to make her disappear without a trace. In these days of legal (thrall) and illegal (slave) bondage, Syn was simply too hot a commodity for them to ignore.

(The term "slave" describes someone who another person holds captive for service against their will without promise of release or compensation. The term "thrall" describes someone who another person holds captive for service as per the terms and conditions of a legally binding contract. These terms and conditions minimally include explicit consent, the specifics of their service, an end date, and compensation.)

Syn knew very little about VolServ contracts, thrall provisions, or the rise of slavery in the lawless outback regions of the world. Aside from her astonishing beauty and her standoffish attitude, she was just a normal college student.

This ended when she arrived in Arabia in a thrall transporter box and was delivered to Prince Farid Saud as a slave. His first act was to suspend her on her toes by her wrists and savage her naked body with a whip. Suddenly, she understood the difference between a slave and a thrall in full technicolor detail.

After, as she lay naked on a wooden bed being medicinally oiled by Nasib, the prince's man and her keeper, he explained the facts of her new life.

"The prince originally planned to give you as a gift, but he has now decided to take you himself," Nasib said evenly without emotion. "It is a great honor. His Highness has scores of girls to use for his pleasure and he has chosen you. Your friend, Samantha, the one who was whipped at your side, was not so lucky. She is being given to his venerable great uncle as a gift to deflower." Then, in a whisper, "The man is in his late eighties; I doubt he can still get it up never-mind deflower a young girl."

Deflower...?

Syn, still shaken by the whipping, didn't fully understand what he was saying. Samantha was a virgin ... like her? She was one of the few virgins in her college dorm; a fact made even more remarkable to her dormmates by her sultry good looks. Was that why she and Samantha were here, to be broken? Was that what this man was saying: that the prince was going to fuck her, and some old fart was going to do the same to Sam? Were these people crazy?

"NO WAY!" she said, rolling over painfully onto her side and exposing her tits, "I am not going to let some desert prince fuck me. I demand to be taken to the U.S. Embassy!"

Nasib, obviously surprised, stared at her with a strange expression. He was used to dealing with thralls and with slaves, American girls who thought they were still freewomen were a new experience for him.

"It is an honor, Madisyn" he said quietly. "When his excellency saw you in the dungeon suspended by your wrists and writhing so beautifully under the whip, he abandoned all thoughts of giving you away. You should be thankful; it is a privilege to have his royal cock inside your commoner body."

"No fucking way," she said.

Nasib shrugged then called the two assistants standing by the door. They locked her naked and aching body in a nearby whipping stock which was shaped like a half "T". the thick wooden device had straps to hold her head upright and her ankles off the floor. The horizontal section fit neatly between her tits and under her cunt. They strapped her wrists behind her back.

Syn immediately recognized the device's purpose. It was a whipping stand that held her ass, legs, tits, and a protruding piece of her labia immobile for a whip or cane.

"Please, not again," she whispered.

"Of course not," Nasib said kindly. "This is just to remind you as you wait for his Highness that your body is now his to do with as he pleases. Imagine, as you rest, him taking a cane to you in this position..."

Syn closed her eyes. After her recent whipping in the dungeon, it was easy for her to imagine what a cane would do to her in this position. Easy, but nowhere near correct. She had no idea how painful it would be, but she would learn.

 

***

 

The traditional desert way of taking a virgin was to tie her face down over a "foal," a small wooden frame the same shape and size as a baby horse (a foal), and to fuck each of her exposed holes in the most hygienic order, that is mouth, vagina, and ass. The tribe's older women usually assisted in this by covering the wooden foal with coarse horsehair, to abrade the virgin's skin, especially her tender inner thighs, so she was more sensitive, more receptive of her new husband's or master's touch. The foal also stretched her bound limbs just tight enough so that her body could move enough to tickle the man's imagination. Fucking a girl who was tied so tightly she could not move was not the exquisite pleasure most men expected.

For the girl, the foal was a nightmarish duty, a duty tradition required of her. It was part of the marriage contract or the submission agreement for designated slaves and concubines. Many girls didn't fully realize how totally vulnerable they were until they were fully mounted and secured to the foal, and by then it was too late. Sometimes, if the target protested too loudly, a wad of soft leather was tied in her mouth until it was required. As for pain, the traditional method was to focus the pain on the breaking of the hymen.

Prince Farid was all for tradition, but when he saw Syn's long luscious body splayed open over the foal, he decided to forego the traditional method and start the ceremony with a sharp caning before engaging in oral intercourse. He had just the device for the job, a flexible plastic rod about three feet long with a sure-grip rubber handle he had just purchased from his Iranian supplier.

The quarter-inch round rod left a bright red line as straight as an arrow on her virginal white skin. The prince was fascinated that so little force produced such a dramatic effect.

Syn was also surprised by the rod's effect. The pain was horrific, well beyond her experience. She could not relate to it; all she could do was cry out and scream. The more she screamed, the more she twisted and writhed, however, the more she aroused the prince. Within seconds, he was drooling unconsciously and savaging her ass and legs as if she had committed some heinous crime. By the time he finally inserted his penis into her mouth, her entire body was shaking, shuddering in a state of semi-conscious hysteria. She was well-cowed and eager, if not desperate to please him. She would suck a thousand cocks for as long and as hard as he wanted if he would stop her caning.

Farid's first caning taught her an important lesson that anyone in bondage must learn sooner or later: eventually everyone begs for mercy. Syn, a very determined and independent young woman, had always had the opinion in the back of her mind that she could resist any persuasion or coercion; that delusion was shattered as she embraced the foal.

Although the prince enjoyed her mouth tremendously, had was careful to not let his feelings get ahead of his plan. He had no intention of coming during her furious cocksucking. Nor did he intend to come inside her virginal vagina, although he expected that his penetration of that hole would also be memorable. Penetration. No doubt, he would enjoy breaking her hymen and listening to her screams, but he wanted to save himself for the anal finally. He would view her screams along the way like the cheers of a crowd for a passing marathon runner, applause appropriate to the effectiveness of his manly spear. Her never-before-penetrated asshole and its enormously powerful sphincter muscle were his objective.

The memory of his experience made him shudder as he sucked on his hashish pipe.

"Fucking that girl, Rocco," he mumbled, "...was the sexual highlight of my life. It was well worth the cost, well worth the financial loss I have suffered by not using her virginity as a gift. You should take a lesson from this: not everything in life is about money."

His guest on the other pipe nodded. Rocco DeCastro was the manager the AmerromA ArabiA resort in the Al Jubayi oasis, and, he assumed after his abduction of the two girls, Syn and Sam, the prince's official procurer of kidnapped virgins.

He smiled broadly at the prince's ridiculous comment, but inside he was incensed. It was easy for someone of his immense wealth to claim that "not everything was about money."

Not only that, he was lying about this being the ultimate sexual experience. The prince didn't have the balls to fuck a beautiful virgin like Syn properly. He was a weak and venal man. Sure, he had the money to buy a slave like her, or a hundred like her if he wanted, but he just didn't have what it took to make her surrender unconditionally ... and it had nothing to do with beating a girl senseless with a plastic rod. Only a real man, a real master could achieve what people called "a woman's ultimate surrender," the full admission of her submissive nature, of her enslavement.

"Just the idea, Rocco," Farid continued undeterred by his silence, "...That she was a slave taken in conquest rather than a thrall doubled my pleasure."

He stopped and shook his head in a drug-sodden stupor.

"I certainly hope this doesn't compromise my ability to own thralls, I cannot afford a diet of abducted virgins, but I will tell you this, the idea that I was fucking her by virtue of my power rather than by her consent gave me the power of ten men."

Rocco continued to nod and smile.

Power...! What a crock. His power came from oil, from the obscene amount of oil money oil companies paid his forefathers, from the oil and gas leases his family still owned and controlled. The Arabian Peninsula was certainly the outback, but the princes had used their money wisely to retain control of the oil during the economic crisis.

Prince Farid, who had nothing to do with any of this, who inherited his wealth and position, had convinced himself that he was the colossus who sat astride the desert sands. In truth, he was a little man, a self-indulgent weakling sucking on the family teat.

"This pleasure was redoubled," the prince continued enthusiastically, "...When I remembered that she was also the rarest of yearlings, a virgin. How many men can say they have fucked a beautiful virgin slave?" He stopped and seemed to forget what he was saying for a moment then continued. "Not many, I suspect."

The prince smiled stupidly then laughed trying to make light of his self-congratulatory diatribe, but he couldn't quite pull it off. He actually believes this crap, Rocco thought. He actually believes he is a demigod, that these pleasures, these excesses are his just rewards for his imagined triumphs.

Rocco nodded swallowing hard to control his expression. He turned his thoughts to the small fortune, the $350 thousand, the prince had paid him for each of the two girls. It was a ridiculous amount to pay for a thrall or for a slave. In this part of the world, girls in both kinds of servitude went cheap; beautiful slaves and thralls were available everywhere in the Middle East.