Excerpt from: "The Pits of Despair"

 

In the desert mountains of Barbouria, naked and chained, Penny is making her way through a series of linked pleasure pits, compelled to serve a new master in each one...

 

It was ten minutes before Penny felt strong enough to go on. Wearily she got to her feet and dragged her ball and chain after her along the narrow winding path to the next pit. At least she was unlikely to meet anybody quite so singularly cruel or masterful again, she told herself. Perhaps the worst was over...

Upon ringing its bell lever, its gate slid back, and the Penny stepped nervously through it into the next pit. It was slightly narrower, deeper and darker than the previous ones, but otherwise it was of the same general pattern.

This time there was nobody waiting for her, but there were arrows in the sand formed out of small stones that pointed to a ramp and an open doorway. Once again having no other choice, she followed them. The doorway opened onto another sloping passageway that cut deep into the cliff face. Hauling her iron ball noisily up the passage she came to a new white-walled chamber.

In its centre was a large wooden device that was comprised of a heavy man-sized Y-shaped timber frame fitted with many straps and chains that was supported on a sturdy base post. In one corner was a familiar style of toilet. Many other curious and sinister devices were fitted to the chamber's curving walls, and assorted hooks and chains dangled from rings and metal channels bolted to the ceiling. However, what made this array different from any of the others Penny had seen so far was that amongst them was a naked Black girl.

She was secured in a yoke identical to Penny's, with a gag bar clenched between her white teeth. She was standing with her back to the wall to which the ends of her yoke were fastened by hooks and rings. Her feet were spread wide by a rod with cuffs on its end connecting her ankles.

As there was no one else in the room and the two other doors leading out of it were closed, Penny shuffled uncertainly over to the girl.

She was perhaps three or four years younger than Penny and looked to be of mixed Arab and black African ancestry, with a slim build and collar length wavy glossy black hair. Her skin was of an even coffee-olive hue. Her bright almond eyes were deep brown with dark brows arched over them. Her nose had a broad firm bridge, but it was not over wide. A golden ring pierced its septum and hung over her upper lip, which was full but not thick. She had neat breasts with prominent dark nipples with a pair of golden rings pieced through them. Her waist was tight and her buttocks well rounded, tapering to lean, shapely legs. Her pubic hair had also been removed, exposing a smooth pouting brown cleft. Another pair of golden rings hung through piercings in the slim tongue of her inner labia, which peeped out from between her plumper outer lips.

Her bright eyes looked at Penny with keen interest as she appraised her naked figure in return. Penny thought of Captain Velasquez's Marietta with her intimate golden ring piercings and vulva padlock. Was this girl another concubine? Suddenly Penny felt ridiculously awkward. They should be introduced but neither of them could speak. What did you do in such a situation?

'Her name is Douna,' said a gruff voice from behind Penny speaking in Arab-accented English. 'She is a serving maid who has been bad. As punishment, she was sent here to the pits to earn her master money. But he has been delayed coming for her, so I have her for an extra day...'

Penny spun round to see a tall man in loose white desert robes with a dishdasha over his white hood. He was holding a short, coiled whip in one hand.

As she faced him, he flicked it across Penny's breasts, making her flinch.

'On your knees...' he commanded, and she obeyed.

He walked around her, stroking her with the whip. 'You are Penel-ope from England, I am told. I am Sharif, your master in this pit.' The braided whip rasped across her nipples that stood up helplessly hard in response. She bit her lip. 'Your skin is very fine and white, your hair is golden and you are very beautiful. Not many could afford to buy one like you. Do you belong to a man?'

Penny shook her head.

'That cannot last long,' he declared firmly. 'But for this day you belong to me. I have always wondered what English women are like when passion overcomes them. Are they different from Arab women? Are they better, as they like to think themselves, or are they just like any other women when you get inside them? Now I have the chance to find out...'

* * *

Penny lay stretched out on the Y-shaped wooden frame.

Sharif had removed her yoke and chain and substituted fresh bonds. Her arms were drawn up above her head and heavy leather straps were bound across her wrists and elbows, squeezing them together so that they lay rigidly along the tail of the Y. A braided leather cord had been pulled over her mouth and wedged between her teeth. Broader and longer straps went over her chest above and below her breasts, making them jut up between them, and across her waist. Her widespread legs were stretched out along the arms of the Y, held in place by more straps bound over her thighs, knees and ankles.

This position left her buttocks and groin overhanging the apex of the fork of the frame: perfectly exposed along with her inner thighs to Sharif's whip.

It swished as it cut through the air and slashed into her soft defenceless flesh. Its trailing thong tips were very soft pliant leather, so it did not actually cut her skin, but they still inflicted shockingly painful cracks and slashes. Every third or fourth stroke Sharif directed along the line of her bound body over her stomach and into the undersides of her breasts that were standing up from her chest like milk-jelly hills; making them bounce, heave and shiver. Sharif seemed fascinated by their motion and watched as they settled again with their dark pink nipples standing up on top of them like little lighthouses.

The first strokes of the whip to actually cut up into her vulva had been horrendous and Penny had screamed and bit on the leather cord in her mouth and lost command of her bladder and spurted her water over the floor. This had not deterred Sharif, who had simply chuckled at her shame. Then he delivered half a dozen more strokes with great care, separating her swollen sex lips with his blows while splattering wetness and juices over her belly and thighs as the thongs tore through her flesh valley and rasped across her throbbing clitoris.

At those moments, Penny thought she was going to orgasm and faint from savage delight and agony. But they were gone so quickly she could not respond.

Finally, when Penny's thighs, vulva and the under-curves of her breasts were identical blaze of crimson and stung and burned relentlessly, Sharif coiled his whip again and rubbed it through her sore, burning, dribbling cleft. She groaned as her juices soaked into the leather while her hips tried to rise against the straps holding them down as her clitoris desperately sought relief.

Sharif pulled the whip away and examined the dark stain on the leather and then nodded. He walked round the frame to examine her red rimmed, crusted and tear-streaked eyes and burning cheeks stained by dribble that had leaked out of the corners of her gagged mouth. She could hardly see him until he wiped her tears away. Then she saw he was now holding a camera. He snapped away, recording every detail of her woebegone face and beaten body.

It seemed odd to see a man in Arab dress using a camera, but she supposed he wanted to preserve his memories as well. Pictures of her would be in his album: a white woman he had strapped down and whipped in the Pits of Despair. Would he boast to his friends about his conquests? What would he say about her...?

He pulled the leather cord out of her mouth. 'Now, do you want another taste of the whip, or do you beg me to have you?'

By now she knew the answer to that. 'P... please have me, Sir... Master... any way you want... Sir, in my pussy hole or up my bottom...'

But he wanted more. 'Do you beg me, an Arab man, to penetrate your white English woman flesh holes?'

Penny realized he wanted to hear her debasing herself totally. Once again, she was at the mercy of a man of another race who harboured resentment for his past treatment at white hands and wanted revenge. That thought was terrifying and darkly exciting.

'Yes... Master... please put your Arab penis inside my w... white English female flesh holes... use them for your pleasure... please!'

He pulled aside his robes to expose his hard, erect brown penis. He let her see it in all its terrifying magnificence, then he moved back round to stand between her splayed legs and thrust it up into her.

Penny felt a wave of revulsion flow through her followed by another of desperate delight and relief that he was not whipping her anymore. Her body was rejoicing, celebrating its freedom from pain by concentrating on every scrap of pleasure she could take from his thrusting manhood. The heavy straps binding her resisted the power of every thrust into her, making her lower belly bulge from within as her wet, clinging vagina was filled and then sucked half empty.

Her stinging, beaten, burning breasts wobbled slightly as the Y-frame creaked. He reached up and took hold of them and pinched her nipples and pulled down upon them until they stretched like elastic as he thrust even deeper into her. His hands were hard and strong and precise as they moulded and twisted her hot flesh. Hot, yes very hot! Her breasts were hot and pussy was hotter. Her loins were filling and bubbling over... she was going to...ahhhh!

* * *

The next thing Penny knew, Sharif was slapping her cheeks, bringing her out of her post-orgasmic swoon.

'You had your pleasure moment before I did,' he said sternly. 'That was bad of you. You will not do that again...' He laid his coiled whip across her breasts as a warning. 'Unless you want another whipping?'

'No... Master... sorry Master ...please have me again, Master,' she babbled. 'Use my bottom... its tighter...'

He took hold of her hips and rammed his still hard penis up into her greased bottom hole and she shrieked as his shaft stretched her anal ring.

He pounded into her with ferocious energy. The frame creaked and she gasped. He was taking his pleasure without thinking about hers. How cruel was that! And yet in this place it was beginning to feel almost natural and normal. She was a woman and he was a man, and his pleasure came first...

And then he spouted his hot sperm up inside her and she felt a brief thrill of delight that was not an orgasm, but the knowledge that she had served her proper purpose.

* * *

After recovering himself, Sharif went to the wall and freed Douna from its hooks. He removed the spreader bar from her ankles and led her back to the Y-frame and made her kneel between Penny's splayed thighs so that she was staring into her soiled cleft and bottom. He pulled the gag bar out of her mouth.

'Lick her clean,' he commanded.

And the girl obeyed, pressing her face into Penny's groin and sucking and licking diligently, lapping up and swallowing down her juices and Sharif's sperm without hesitation.

Penny squirmed in embarrassment and helpless pleasure, thinking of Velasquez's concubine Marietta performing the same service in the police cell. Did all women here carry out such dirty and intimate acts without any shame? Had they no pride? Then she realized there was a stupid question. They were not allowed pride and dare not let shame stop them. And while she was in the pits, neither could she.

Douna's tongue probed deeper into her cleft, and Penny shuddered at the feel of its mobile length within her. She was taking far longer than Marietta had. It was like having a little snake inside her and despite her misgivings, she was getting aroused. Her nipples were standing up again. Respectable women did not do such things... certainly not with foreign women... but she was the foreigner here... and she was no longer a respectable woman. George must never know...

Her loins were filling again. She couldn't stop herself... ahhhh!

Burning with embarrassment even as she thrilled with helpless lustful delight, Penny squirted a mist of her juices over Douna's brown face.