BDSM Library - Sheik Rashid's Vengeance

Chapter 13 – Cheerleader Cheryl Puts Out

Two months later, Cheryl was two months pregnant. The once proud co-ed vomited from the deepest pit of her cramped up stomach. The pretty cheerleader was certain that it was the wart-faced rapist's child. Her tiny perfect toes curled as she knelt over the basin and spewed long and hard into it. A slave in high heels and stockings wiped the puke dribble from Cheryl's chin and then carried away the basin of vomit to be used as a delightful sauce to help flavour Brandi's breakfast of toasted bird turd.

Wartface was waiting for her. The ugliest of the rapists fucked Cheryl at every opportunity. He was totally disgusting, lacking any concept of bodily hygiene. His blubbery body was filthy. He stank. His breath reeked. Worst of all, he claimed to have religious objections to abortions. She had tried to persuade him but there was no obscene act she could offer him. At first, he had been encouraging and listened to her in total enchantment as lovely Cheryl stupidly offered a veritable cornucopia of utter depravity in return for an abortion and access to contraceptives. After that, he simply forced her to perform those depravities that had sounded either interesting to him or totally revolting for her. Cheryl's lovely face twitched at the memory. That particular attempt at negotiation had added a lot to her heavy load of disgust and self-loathing.

At the moment Wartface was probing his nostril with a stubby finger, digging deep. He gave her a gap-toothed grin with his large yellow teeth as he pulled out a big, green, crusted nose goblin.

"I haff luffly present for you, fuckmeat."

This delight had been one of her particularly nauseating suggestions as part of the afore-mentioned disastrous negotiation. Kicking herself mentally for even thinking of it, much less suggesting it, Cheryl felt even sicker than before as he reached between her legs, hooked two filthy fingers into her cunt and pulled her up close. She flinched involuntarily as he breathed his foul stench into her pretty face.

"Open wide."

There was no choice. Cheryl opened.

He stuffed his snot-laden finger between her parted lips.

"Suck."

Cheryl sucked the booger from his vile tasting fingertip.

"Lick it clean."

Cheryl's pretty pink tongue flickered daintily over his finger, first wetting it with her saliva and then licking away the grime. She worked delicately with her small white teeth to scrape the last morsels of snot from underneath his filthy fingernails.

"Swallow."

Cheryl's Adam's apple bobbed. Wartface was pleased. He had worked hard to train his reluctant student in this enchanting morning ritual.

"Good girl."

He squeezed her bare buns and wormed the fat finger that she had just licked clean into her anus. Her life was shit. Cheryl wanted to die. More than anything she wanted to blubber like a baby, but the electric prod awaited whiners. Instead, she smiled brilliantly at Wartface, who had never even bothered to introduce himself. She did her very best to look totally enthralled as his thick dick raised itself for action.

Cheryl knew that Wartface had issues with ravishing beauties like herself who, in the past, had treated him with utter disdain. His position on the Hounds of Allah Rape Squad now allowed him ample opportunities for payback. At the first hint of anything less than total enchantment, he reacted with extreme firmness to encourage a screaming beauty to adopt a whole new attitude. He had strong hands with sharp dirty fingernails and went straight for the genitals every time. Having shrieked her way through these profoundly educational exercises, Cheryl was now using her very best cheerleader acting skills, honed on various football captains in the past, focussing hard on making sure that he was a happy rapist.

"Wow! You sure like fucking me a lot."

She shook her head in wonderment and stared at his thickly veined, cum-encrusted member admiringly. She batted her eyes coyly and gushed enthusiastically.

"You're so big! I've never known any guy that could get it up as many times in a day as you can!"

Wartface nodded absently, unimpressed. All the whores said stuff like that. Women were lying scum in his experience. They were only nice to him if they wanted something. In lovely Cheryl's case it was obvious. What she wanted was to avoid being pounded shitless or deep-fried with the electric prod rammed up her cunt. Although he insisted on total respect from the fuckmeat, he knew that their extravagant admiration meant squat.

He crudely jammed his thick, dripping member into her hot, tight fuckhole. She clamped tightly around him and gamely began giving it the good ole college try. He sat still while she did all the work, squatting in his lap, doing six inch deep knee bends until her thighs were screaming, licking and kissing him, running her hands over his fat warty body, scrubbing her nipples against his hairy chest, breathily whispering admiring endearments into his tongue moistened ear hole.

When it suited him, Wartface could exercise impressive self-control. He sweated the blonde cheerleader hard as she bobbed her superb nude body up and down, impaled prettily on his pole. Her fine, sweat-soaked hair was soon plastered to her head in golden ringlets. She was red-faced and gasping and her deodorant had long ago failed her when he, at last, deigned to come inside her. She looked, felt and smelt like a hard humping whore as she sat all the way down, burying his dick inside her right to the base of his penis. She hugged him tightly as he throbbed inside her, unloading copiously.

He liked her to stay impaled for a while so that no sperm leaked out after he had finished porking her. She was already pregnant so it hardly mattered from an impregantion point of view. Nevertheless, it was best to encourage good habits in a breeder and psychologically it prolonged her humiliation, allowing her a long moment to reflect on past degradations and to anticipate the brutally public, exquisitely intimate shamings to come.

If Wartface had his way, breeder Cheryl was going to be squeezing out lots of baby Wartfaces in front of the cameras, screaming hard as she did so.

Sadly for poor knocked-up Cheryl, his religion didn't approve of abortions or painkillers for pregnant women. Pitiless rapes of the infidel were a sacred duty.

Chapter 14 – Brandi in Deep Shit

There's just no pleasing women.

On one hand, Cheryl was deeply depressed to find herself pregnant with her lover's child and desperately craved an abortion.

On the other hand, Brandi had spontaneously aborted twice and not been happy with the experience. She was certain that her messy shameful abortions had a lot to do with Achmed the Shitfucker's habit of using shit as a vaginal lubricant. They had both occurred while everyone watched in complete, loudly expressed revulsion. The camera crews had filmed the events for the sheik so that he could enjoy watching her sink to an even more dehumanizing level on the downward path to total degradation.

Thin and wiry, Achmed was a tireless fanatic when it came to shit-fucking. To make sure that Brandi was fully involved and not a numb, passive rape victim deep in shock, he was giving her a shit enema with her full, albeit reluctantly given, co-operation. This active co-operation was a measure of the depths of her desperation.

The thick tube shoved deeply into her asshole trembled as the piss/shit mixture was pumped into her bowels.

A loathsome series of vile, feverish infections had turned Brandi into a frantic, near-suicidal beauty. The eye infections after Achmed had swabbed her eyeballs with shit-soaked Q-tips had her convinced that she was going blind. The urethral infections after he had used the same Q-tips on her piss hole had made every act of urination feel like she was pissing slivers of broken glass. The horrifying vaginal infections and bloody spontaneous abortions had been deeply traumatizing experiences. They filled her with intense self-loathing, revolting her to the very core of her being.

She had to beat her own record, squirting a stream of fecal matter farther than ever before, or spend the day buried up to her neck in an electrified shitpit. She earned a week's reprieve from being shit-fucked with each successful effort. She bitterly regretted trying so hard on the first effort. It had set a hard-to-beat milestone of shit-squirting excellence. This was the third week and Brandi was one panic-stricken pussy.

Of course, all this effort didn't mean that she wouldn't spend the week playing sucky-fuck with Achmed. She got the joy, privilege and opportunity of providing a full range of shit-free sexual services for him while they spent romantic moments watching and listening to videos of her being thoroughly turd-slimed, aborting bloodily for the cameras, etc. Achmed found these deeply inspirational. Being forced to endlessly revisit past traumas kept Brandi quaking nicely and powerfully motivated towards achieving shit-squirting excellence. The fact that Achmed always reeked of excrement kept Brandi's stomach churning while she gobbled his dick and licked his balls.

Completely focussed on the job at hand, her breath came in small rapid pants. Small drops of blood sprayed from her lips as she bit them hard. Brandi's pretty face twisted in a series of anguished grimaces as she struggled to accept as much of the urine-enriched fecal matter as she possibly could. When her bulging, painfully straining intestines were packed full of the warm, steaming mixture and she could stand no more, she nodded and the tube was gingerly withdrawn.

The overhead cameras focused carefully as Brandi put her lovely legs close together to achieve maximum height. She bent over and went up on tiptoe. Using her hands on the floor to steady herself, she raised her tightly clenched, deeply dimpled asscheeks as high as possible.

Dressed in red thigh-high spike-heeled whore boots, her long black hair hung down and touched the floor as she carefully adjusted the angle of her sweating, shuddering torso to achieve a maximum trajectory. Brandi's dangling tits shook violently as the red-faced beauty simultaneously relaxed her tightly clenched buttocks and squeezed hard for the cameras. She flushed crimson right down to her pubic hair as she strained mightily.

There was definitely fire in the hole as shit exploded out of her stretched, aching rectum. Brandi let out a long ululating scream of pure anguish as she bore down hard and a strong stream of rectal excreta arched across the room.

When she was done, Brandi dropped to her hands and knees, sobbing with shame and pain. It had been a brutal effort and she knew that she could never do it again.

She wondered when she was going to get the infection that antibiotics couldn't cure.

A deeply stressed Brandi was certain that it was only a matter of time. Once she got it, from that moment onwards she would slowly and disgustingly rot from the crotch outwards.

Chapter 15 - No Pain No Gain

Although she still looked good, Melody moved like an old woman. The crippling series of electro-convulsive shock therapies relentlessly administered by the fanatical Dr. Li meant that running away was no longer an option for the young co-ed.

It was feeding time. Since she could no longer walk easily, lovely Melody got to crawl naked on her belly for food. Just as she got close, Dr. Li playfully moved the steaming bowl of delicious beef stew just out of reach. The gruelling electro-convulsive workouts were exhausting and made Melody utterly ravenous. Unhinged mentally, wild-eyed with hunger, her beautiful blue eyes focused dementedly on the steaming aromatic bowl containing one of her favourite foods. This was a delight that she had oh-so-helpfully listed as a particular favourite on Dr. Heinrich's questionnaire so long ago in a university world far, far away. Hands bound behind her back, she pursued the bowl, slithering forward on her belly like a snake.

Her pathetic eagerness for nourishment kept her trying hard as she dragged her bare tits over the smooth tiled floor towards the ever-retreating bowl. Never giving up, her sweating face gleamed with the insanity of total obsession as she pursued the doggy bowl of steaming delicious stew. The sight of the perfectly prepared stew delighted her eyes. The aroma tantalised her nostrils. Her mouth watered. She licked her lips eagerly.

At last, tiring of his torment, he allowed her to bury her face in the bowl and gulp it down like the starving animal that she had become. Her tongue lapped at the metal bowl as she licked it shiny. After she had bolted it all down like a dog, the metal bowl rattled noisily on the floor as her tongue dementedly flicked over all parts of the empty bowl, seeking food that simply was no longer there.

After this, it was time for some stomach-cramping, right-after-dinner exercise. Dr. Li liked telling Melody that she only really came to life when she was wired up and bucking wildly as jolt after jolt of electricity was applied to her lithe young body. It was not news that she wanted to hear.

Melody moaned in fear as the familiar ritual that was slowly grinding her to ratshit and ripping her apart internally was enacted one more time.

Weak as a puppy now and helpless to resist, she was tied spread-eagled face-up on the bed. She whimpered as Dr. Li pinned the electrodes to the back of her knees and her buttocks. She sobbed as he greased the electrodes on the inside of the belt for a good conductive skin contact. He buckled the wide electro-shock belt to her stomach. He squeezed hard, burying his strong fingers in her titmeat. He twisted her bare breasts painfully, then pinched her nipples cruelly, as he spoke a few encouraging words.

"The belt is just like those useless stomach exercise belts you see on American television, except the voltage is cranked up a bit."

She groaned as he climbed on top of her and rammed his ever-ready priapic prick into her tight swollen fuck hole. Her cunt tightened convulsively around his permanently erect member as he flipped on the juice. Her spasming, cramping belly and thigh muscles were controlled by a series of carefully timed and beautifully orchestrated jolts. Helplessly, lovely Melody began pumping her hips lewdly, her cunt clamped tight around Dr. Li's invasive member. She flushed red, nipples erect, her body hot underneath him as the electricity slow-cooked her meat.

Her over-achieving tool tunnel was scratched and bruised its entire length. Her cunt burned painfully between her legs. Each savagely invasive penetration was a lightning scrape of agony opening her vaginal passage wide and delving deep, reaming away the numerous small scabs and widening her cuts. She had never experienced a fuck-freak with Dr. Li's relentless, demonic stamina. Her mind firmly focussed on what was happening between her legs, Melody grunted rhythmically with each cruel obscene thrust as she began the long hard grind of another sexual marathon with the indefatigable Dr. Li.

Chapter 16 – Another Heart-Warming Video for the Family

Mistress Gretchen supervised as the American bitches, stark naked aside from their high heels, were prepped for the cameras.

Waist high and embedded in the wall side by side in a row, the three thick greased metal rods projected up at a sixty-degree angle.

Two handlers lifted Melody up. Her black high heels left the floor.

Strong hands cupped her creamy smooth buttocks and prised them apart. Melody gasped as the rounded end of the thick rod began pressing insistently against her crinkled brown anus. Her handlers pushed downwards. Melody let out a series of small sharp cries as the thick probing rod stretched her rectum agonisingly wide and slowly wormed its way deep into her bowels. The rough surface of the rod rasped her rectum painfully as it slid deeper and deeper.

Her black high heels touched the floor again, their height carefully calculated to lift her bum up to the exactly correct level. Melody was hooked deeply onto the rod, impaled anally like a worm on a fishhook.

Mistress Gretchen cupped a blob of cold cream in her hand. Her hand dipped between Melody's thighs and smoothly massaged the greasy cream into her cuntlips with knowing fingers, penetrating her lewdly and tantalisingly, fingering her clit erect and taking Melody to the very brink of orgasm. Poor panting Melody groaned pre-orgasmically. Her clit throbbed, aching with lust and desire, stiff and swollen.

She screeched shrilly in sudden pain and frustration as Mistress Gretchen snapped the alligator clip onto it, the sharp teeth biting into her exquisitely tender flesh like a piranha. Melody sang even higher as Mistress Gretchen gave the alligator clip a hard pinch to make sure that it was seated properly and that the long sharp teeth were imbedded in her swollen love nubbin as deeply as possible.

Melody stood, red-faced and breathing hard, while a gasping Brandi and Cheryl were trotted out one by one and hooked anally onto their rods on either side of her. The cold cream trick teased their clits out of hiding, stiff and proud. They too screamed in sudden pain and frustration as the teeth of the alligator clip bit into the sensitive flesh of their hot stiff erections.

The trio shrieked even higher and harder in spine-chilling three-part harmony as the powerful, agonisingly pulsed electric current surged up through the rectal rods, burned through their cunts and sizzled out through their clits. Their bare buns convulsed, their nude buttocks cramping and clamping hard around the rough reaming rods.

Mistress Gretchen nodded in satisfaction after giving them a brutally long fry.

"Now you know the consequences of failing to please."

Like there had been any doubt.

The hairdressers and make-up people moved in to make the gasping, red-faced sluts look good for the cameras. This required a bit of skill. Cheryl was bloating in the early stages of her pregnancy. Melody could barely stand after her electro-convulsive workouts. Brandi was gaunt and pale from her extremely unhealthy diet and the ravages of disease and repeated infections.

The high-price help worked their magic and the three unwilling guests of Sheik Rashid soon looked the very picture of youth and vitality. Gretchen picked chaste white bras and spotlessly clean, white t-shirts to cover their superb torsos. They would only be photographed from the waist up, so she kept them nude below. It was a matter of economy. Why waste time dressing them fully when they would be stripping for action right afterwards?

Luxurious purple drapes with gold tassels and fabulously expensive oil paintings by Rubens and Van Dyke framed each ass-hooked beauty's neatly dressed torso for the benefit of the cameras.

Cheryl smiled brilliantly into the lens.

"Hi, Mom and Kyla. Melody, Brandi and I are just back from seeing the pyramids and touring the Valley of the Kings in Egypt. Sheik Rashid treats us far, far better than we deserve. He is a wonderful man. We were so wrong about him!"

Impaled on her ass-spike with an alligator clip biting into her clitoris, her loins burning from their recent electrical deep-fry, Cheryl swallowed the pain and humiliation and gushed enthusiastically. Beaten bitches, Brandi and Melody also gushed excitedly for the cameras when it was their turn.

Then the pampering was over and it was back to business.

Mistress Gretchen walked down the row and slapped their pretty faces briskly to get their attention.

"OK bitches. Take off the t-shirts and bras. Hand them to the wardrobe people."

Brandi, Melody and Cheryl quickly peeled them off and handed them over, exposing themselves fully once more.

"Put your hands behind your backs and with each hand grab the opposite elbow."

Black tape was wrapped around both forearms, cocooning them together behind their backs, forcing them to arch forward and present their bare breasts nicely.

Mistress Gretchen cupped the back of cheerleader Cheryl's blonde head with one hand. She tapped a tongue depressor against Cheryl's perfect white teeth.

"Open."

Cheryl parted her teeth. Gretchen pushed the tongue depressor in deep, stimulating the vomit reflex. Cheryl yorked up over her tits. Gretchen wiggled the tongue depressor against Cheryl's tonsils to keep her gagging and choking until her stomach was emptied completely. To be sure, she kept Cheryl yorking up in a series of agonising dry heaves. The powerful stomach acids powered up her throat, making her sinuses burn, her nose run and her eyes water.

She moved on to give Melody the same treatment.. She squeezed Melody's tits tightly, digging in with her fingernails. She twisted them agonisingly as if she was trying to unscrew them from her chest. Poor Melody was instantly red-faced and gasping. Tears streamed down Melody's cheeks as Mistress Gretchen addressed a reproach to poor blubbering Cheryl.

"It's for your own good, you stupid bitch! I wouldn't want you fuckheads choking to death on your own puke after the gag goes on and I present you with a few small challenges."

Cheryl didn't exactly look profoundly grateful, but she knew better than to show her resentment. She swallowed hard and accepted it, wondering, as she was intended to, about the 'small challenges'. She did not dare to ask. Mistress Gretchen wouldn't appreciate the interruption as she worked patiently with the tongue depressor, forcing Melody to dig deep and, with bulging eyes, spew so hard that she practically tossed up her toenails.

Mistress Gretchen had persuaded the lovely Bobbi to take a few moments out of her busy day. It was one of those rare moments when she didn't have her lips wrapped around a thick dick belonging to the sheik or one of his friends, hoovering up thick gobs of semen and gulping it down. Using a rich soft towel, the mouth whore sweetly and gently wiped the drool and vomit from Cheryl's breasts. It was the nicest thing anyone had done for Cheryl in a long time.

Cheryl sobbed in gratitude.

She yelped as a short sharp jolt of electricity fried her genitals.

Mistress Gretchen glared at her.

"Do you have a problem, cunt ?"

Cheryl turned off the faucets instantly.

"No, ma'am. I'm sorry to have disturbed you with my foolish stupidity, ma'am."

Cheryl's guts jumped and twisted inside her as Mistress Gretchen continued to stare at her hard. Then she withdrew her million-watt glare and moved from Melody to Brandi. Having learned by example, Melody kept her blubbering gratitude to herself when Bobbi gently towelled her off, as did Brandi when her turn came.

Mistress Gretchen tapped against Cheryl's pearly whites with a thick red rubber ball.

"Open."

It was a tight fit. Gretchen squeezed the rubber ball hard and forced it between her teeth. Released, the ball expanded to open Cheryl's mouth achingly wide. Mistress Gretchen wound wide black tape around Cheryl's head several times to hold the ball in place and seal her lips around it. In turn, Brandi and Melody each opened very wide indeed to wrap her lips around a thick rubber ball, taped in place with the wide black tape.

A black cloth hood was dropped over each co-ed's pretty head. Wide black tape was wrapped around them, cocooning them from head to toe like a mummy. Each leg was wrapped individually. Only their bare tits, naked cunts and bare buttocks were left exposed. From under the black hoods came muffled groans of relief as they were lifted off the ass hooks. These changed to moans of fear as their slim ankles were cuffed to either end of long leg-spreading bars and each was hung upside down from the back of a tow truck.

The muffled moans changed to muffled squeals as the three tow trucks roared out of the TV studio and out into the desert. They stopped amongst the sand dunes in the sun-blasted heat of the desert. The rapidly swelling ranks of the Hounds of Allah Rape Squad were gathered in the shade of a large coloured canopy drinking cooling drinks and watching the bitches baste in the blazing desert sun.

Mistress Gretchen emerged from the shade and massaged cooking oil onto their rapidly reddening bare breasts and creamy smooth asses. Their legs were spread so wide that their slits were opened up and a lot of pink was exposed to the sun. Parts of the human body that have seldom been exposed to sunlight burn quickly. With repeated applications of cooking oil, their bared breasts, bums and bimbo boxes were soon a bright, bright red. The cooking oil practically sizzled as Mistress Gretchen repeatedly rubbed it into each screaming, sobbing beauty's privates, her fingers dipping lewdly into their holes as she did so.

Then they were taken down and turned over to the hard horny men.

Back in the good ole U. S. of A., Cheryl's mom was really, really, really excited. The divorced former fashion model grabbed her younger daughter's arm.

"Kyla! That nice Sheik Rashid has invited us to join Cheryl in an all-expense-paid visit! The timing he suggests is perfect, right after you participate in that Miss Teen beauty contest! Do you think that Cheryl showed him that picture of us that I sent her?"

Kyla spoke with true teen-age condescension to her aged parent. In her considered opinion (and all her teenage friends agreed) people in their late thirties like her mom were clueless. If they were older than that they were completely hopeless and belonged in a home.

"Get a grip, Mom! You think everything is about looks. He's probably just a nice guy who figures that Cheryl misses her family."

Lovely Laura looked at the letter in her hand.

"You're probably right, dear. He says here that he wants to surprise her with our arrival and that a delightful surprise awaits us if we choose to come!"

Kyla sat in front of the mirror diligently brushing the fine blond hair that hung down to the back of her knees. Her long golden hair was a major asset. It shimmered gloriously with each twitch of her delectable derriere as she walked down the street. She had learned the eye-catching, lewdly pumping model's walk from her mother. The hair accented the effect beautifully, causing all hetero-sexual males to stop and gape like slack jawed yokels.

As she thought of the sheik's invitation, Kyla's beautiful blue eyes narrowed in keen anticipatory delight. So far she had mainly been a sly cockteasing minx, teasing older men (they're the ones with the money) on for her advantage, but only letting a very select few into her panties. Despite her condescending remarks to her aged ancestor, Kyla looked forward to a lifetime of being spoiled by men courtesy of her stunning good looks. Her Mom had set the example in so many ways, scoring very well indeed off her American ex-husbands, encouraging them to forget all about 'anti-love' prenuptial agreements and to think exclusively with the little head between their legs until it was way too late to safeguard their fortunes from her divorcing depredations. Smirking smugly, eighteen-year-old heartbreaker Kyla was certain that she could do much better and was eager to expand beyond the easily exploited high school male. An obviously besotted rich old oil sheik seemed like an excellent start. Even if nothing happened for her, she could always watch her role model mom in action as she played yet another rich boy for a fool and separated him from some serious cash while scooping some nice expensive presents.

Kyla looked up at her mother. Her eyes flashed.

"Sounds like a no-brainer to me, mom! Let's go for it!"

( With my fondness for humbling haughty beauties, you better believe I'm going to continue this one! - LLabmik

Sheik Rashid's Vengeance (cont'd)

By LLabmik

Chapter 17 - The Buck Fuck

Looking through the telephoto lens of his video camera, the fat middle-aged private detective watched the rhythmically rocking car of the high school football captain parked under the empty bridge on the deserted country lane. Parents who think that a curfew is the answer to controlling teen sexuality haven't figured out that they can fuck any time of the day or night. Take lunch hour, for example. This was a particularly good lunch hour because both of the high school seniors in question had a spare period after lunch, which the detective doubted that they would waste studying.

He noted that enterprising Kyla was doing all the work. He could see Buck sitting in the back seat with his head lolled back studying the ceiling of his Chevy while lovely Kyla squatted in his lap facing him. Wearing only the navy blue knee socks from her school uniform, she was straddling his dick and doing deep knee bends, what Kyla thought of as doing fucksquats.

To keep her balance on the springy seat, her hands were braced against Buck's broad chest as she rode up and down his dick, slick with her cunt juice. He raised his head and she playfully slapped his face with the big red nipples of her jumbo jugs as she bounced up and down. He lowered his head, stuck out his long wet tongue and started giving her nips a lewd lick every time they popped high enough.

The detective captured it all on video. The amount of travel Kyla was putting into her fucksquats was further evidence, not that he needed any, that young Buck was impressively hung.

This was the fourth lunch hour in a row that the detective had seen her servicing the energetic captain of the football team. Kyla was certainly a knowledgeable cunt. In the past three lunch hours he'd also taken video of her in action. Superfucker Kyla had put in a different sperm-winning performance each time.

The first day, she had given Buck a hand job that had him fountaining high, spraying his cum over her bare breasts. She didn't just grab his dick and pump up and down with her hand. She had squirted baby oil over her hand and then skilfully massaged his manrod with her fingers, running her well-oiled thumb along the sensitive underside of his penis and fingering his knob while she pumped up and down. After he had erupted like a spermatic Vesuvius, Kyla had smirkingly rubbed his cum into her tits like it was skin lotion, working it into her big erect nipples with her fingers and smoothing it in to the soft supple flesh of her monster melons with the palms of her hand, looking Buck steadily in the eyes and licking her lips lewdly. That had lead immediately to her capturing his thick dick between her cream jugs and giving him a masturbatory mammary massage that had him spraying her smirky-bitch face with his cum. She had rubbed it in like it was face cream.

The next day featured what Kyla called the 'Buck suck'. She got down on her knees next the Chevy and unzipped Buck as he leant insouciantly against the side. The detective wondered why she had taken a jar of Vaseline from her purse, opened it and placed it next to her knees as she prepared to give a BJ. Immediately after putting the jar down, she had put one hand around the base of his dick, slipped a masturbatory hand inside her panties, wrapped her lips around his knob and practically inhaled his thick sausage. In an unbelievably short period of time she had deep-throated Buck, sucking down his dick until his balls slapped her chin, which they did regularly thereafter with each deep delving, throat opening thrust.

In a short time the detective would solve The Mystery of the Vaseline and his knowledge of deep down dirty sex would be improved again. The detective usually videotaped shabby housewives and their equally dreary boyfriends in slimy motels for divorce proceedings. He found this to be a deeply depressing grind. On the contrary, he found that watching young Kyla in action was profoundly inspirational, not to mention educational. He hoped the Sheik would throw him more work if this were a sample of it.

Proud of her monster melons, Kyla showed off her big bouncers every time she did the Buck fuck. As she unwittingly performed topless for the detective's hidden cameras, her big bare boobs bobbed rhythmically in time with her efforts, making a pretty picture indeed. When there was no direct stimulation she kept a hand inside her panties, masturbating her stiff throbbing clit while she did Buck. The detective idly wondered if she washed her own panties afterwards as they were probably drenched in her cunt juice, a dead give-away to anyone with a nose doing her laundry. On the other hand, maybe her mom, hardly a Puritan, didn't give a damn.

That second day, topless on her knees, Kyla had Hoovered Buck next to the open jar of Vaseline, several times easing his thick mushroom head from her throat in order to run her tongue down the sensitive underside of his dick. She had sweetly tea bagged him, taking each testicle into her mouth and giving it a gentle tongue massage. A true gentleman, Buck considerately held his dripping member up out of her face while she tongued his testicles. Then it was back to opening her throat wide to his plunging penis.

Towards the end, all was revealed to the detective as she dipped two fingers into the jar of Vaseline and slipped them up Buck's rectum, giving him a two-fingered prostate massage to push him over the edge to a violent orgasm. Buck had flushed a much deeper red than usual and pumped powerful squirts of hot oyster juice straight down her open throat. Kyla's Adam's apple bobbed as she gulped it down like a pro.

The detective made a mental note of this technique while he taped the young beauty in action. Whatever her academic status, Kyla was definitely a sexual over-achiever. In his personal experience, most women never came close to her level of sexual performance, never mind having her drop dead gorgeous looks. Just watching Kyla in action was teaching him things and making him horny. After this, he'd have to look up one of his depressingly average female friends and see if he could teach an old dog some new tricks.

He didn't have to turn the microphones up too high. Kyla wasn't a quiet fuck. She came easily, her stiff swollen clit hard-wired to the pleasure centres of her brain. She moaned and groaned orgasmically, panting hard and hoarsely whispering lewd encouragement into Buck's ear while they screwed. The detective could always tell how many times she had cum in a session and it was never only once.

The third day, the detective got video of her lubing up Buck's monster member and taking it up the ass beside his car. She had impressed him with her rectal sword swallowing, as Buck had a large sword to swallow. The detective noted that she obviously knew exactly when to relax completely and when to squeeze hard. He had watched Buck's hands grip her hips as she had 'assumed the position' and, arching her back, braced herself against the side of his Chevy. Buck had obviously done this before. He slapped Kyla's butt cheek hard and, as she spontaneously relaxed her muscles in reaction, he forced himself all the way in. Kyla had taken quite the penile pounding as he repeatedly pulled out until only his head was still inside and then buried his dick to the balls in her bowels. A real Anal Annie, she had groaned in repeated orgasms, no self-stimulation necessary.

Right now, the fourth fucking day in a row, she was demonstrating her impressive expertise at the backseat hump, at last getting around to using her fuckhole for its intended purpose. Since this was Thursday, the detective wondered idly what she had planned for Friday lunch hour, little realizing that Kyla was shortly to reveal that this was going to be a five star affair, a must-see must-hear event for the detective, his spying cameras and hidden microphones.

Buck grunted and, being a fair-skinned redheaded hunk who blushed easily, flushed crimson right down to his red pubic hairs as he came inside her.

The detective turned up the volume on his parabolic mike to pick up their post-coital romantic chat. Kyla rested her golden head on Buck's shoulder, affectionately pressing her big bare breasts into his heaving chest. She whispered breathily into his ear.

"I bet that I'm a better fuck than your girlfriend."

"Yeah, you are. Charlene just gives me blowjobs and spits it out into a Kleenex afterwards. That's because she's 'saving herself for marriage.'"

Kyla and Charlene were long-time rivals, which made fucking Charlene's well-hung boyfriend all the sweeter. Originally from Texas, Charlene's rich daddy spoiled his only daughter in every way. Although he never mentioned this little factoid, Buck's Chevy actually belonged to Charlene so breaking up with her would involve some sacrifice on his part. Charlene may have been a tall, stinking rich, full-figured beauty with flashing dark eyes and long black hair that hung down to her ass, but Kyla now knew that she was the better fuck. Never gracious in victory, Kyla trashed her rival vigorously.

"How stupid! Charlene won't know what to do and she won't do it very well if she doesn't practise first! Who wants the wedding night to be a big bloody letdown because you can't deliver a memorable performance and it hurts every time he shoves it in? I'm way past that!"

Buck laughed easily, happy to encourage his women to try and out-fuck each other.

"You certainly are!"

He turned more serious.

"I don't think that Little Miss BJ is a real keeper, although you're right about the practise thing. Her BJs are excellent. Almost as good as yours! I hid her Kleenexes once. You should have seen the expression on her face when she couldn't find them. She spent quite a few minutes holding my cum in her mouth and rolling it over her tongue, getting a really good taste while she hunted desperately for her fucking Kleenex."

He winked slyly at Kyla.

"I'm guessing that cum doesn't taste like caviar."

Kyla snickered and let him in on a little sex secret.

"You don't taste it at all if it goes straight down your throat and not a drop touches your tongue. Try telling Charlene that. She may progress from being a prim stick licker to being a hardcore Deep Throat."

Inquiring minds wanted to know.

"When you hid dainty Miss BJ's Kleenex, did she end up swallowing?"

"Nope. She leaned out the door and spat it out on the road. How come you won't be my girlfriend?"

Kyla slapped him lightly.

"Bite your tongue! I'm saving myself for Mr. Right!"

Buck's jaw dropped.

"Pardon me?"

"I'm saving myself for Mr. Right and Mr. Right is a lot richer than you are, Buck. I see myself as a trophy wife. Hubby sweats away earning huge sums of money and I devote my time to spending it. It seems ideal."

"Oh, you mean like your mom. She's hot. She can probably wrap any guy around her little finger, just like you."

Kyla briefly revealed her inner shark. She jabbed a neatly manicured finger into Buck's chest to punctuate each word as she enunciated her core philosophy.

"You use what you've got to get what you want."

As she repeated it, the easy-going athlete was surprised at her intensity.

"You use what you've got to get what you want! I've got a lot in the hot babe department and I want a lot! So, unlike that lazy-bitch-cause-daddy's-rich Charlene, I'm always working hard to polish the act! I'm more like my mom. As a matter of fact, right now I'm better looking and hotter than my mom will ever be again in her lifetime. I can make a much better deal than her, not that she's a loser exactly. I mean, she's between rich boyfriends right now, but she's got her sights on an oil sheik next."

Brash, self-centred Kyla was surprisingly gentle as she let him down. After all, muscular studs with dicks his size didn't grow on trees.

"Buck, I don't want you to take this the wrong way and get all huffy about it. Guys like you are great, but to a girl like me you're just practise!"

Buck laughed good-naturedly. He really just wanted to get laid, not have another damn 'relationship'.

"You want to practise some more tomorrow? I want to be sure that Mr. Right scores the hottest fuckbox possible!"

He looked at her solemnly.

"I'm only thinking of what's best for you!"

Kyla giggled. She arched an eyebrow coyly at him.

"Want to do it in the girl's washroom next lunch hour?"

"Why not the men's washroom?"

"Been there! Done that! Guy's washrooms are yucky. Besides I want to sneak you in and do you while Charlene pees in the next stall."

"Why won't she know that I'm there?"

"Because you're going to be very quiet while you stand on the seat in the handicapped stall facing me, squatting down so that no one can see you above or below the stall. Charlene always takes the stall next to the handicapped stall. Just before she arrives for her 12:30 piss, you put your prick in my mouth. When we hear her piss hit the bowl, I'll lick your dick like a lollipop until you cum in my face."

"Sounds like quite the athletic event and fraught with peril."

"Well, you're an athlete, aren't you?"

She eyed Buck with dark suspicion.

"Where did you get that 'fraught with peril' line?"

Kyla shook her head and blew a stray curl of her blond hair away from her sexy smirky-bitch face. She leaned back, gloriously naked, and looked at him accusingly.

"Have you been hanging out with nerds?"

"No, I've been reading."

"Shakespeare?"

"No. Clive Cussler."

She snuggled back up to him, hugging him close, grinding her big nipples into his bare chest. She felt his thick manroot; still buried deep inside her cunt, begin to twitch with interest.

"Whew! For a moment you had me worried! You know I like cockteasing those brainiac nerds until it looks like the zippers on their pants are going to explode, but I only do the deed with top athletes like you, the best of the best. I like coaxing those eggheads along, making them do all sorts of stupid stuff because they think that they have a chance to get into my panties, but no way! Did you hear about me teasing the president of the chess club into baring his skinny little ass in what he thought was an empty hallway just as the vice-principal was coming around the corner?"

They both had a good gigglesnort at that. Cockteaser Kyla got back to serious fucking business.

"Be at the washroom at 12:15. I'll smuggle you in. Charlene has to pee at 12:30, right after she eats lunch, regular as clockwork. I'll talk to her in the next stall while I do you."

"Um, Kyla, it's not polite to talk with your mouth full!"

While Kyla sniggered, Buck shook his head.

"You're incredible, Kyla."

Still impaled, she tightened her pussy and gave his thick dick an encouraging squeeze.

Shaking his head enviously as the two horny teenagers effortlessly started up round two, the detective began jotting down more notes for his report to Sheik Rashid. No wonder the super popular Buck was doing so poorly academically. The girls weren't allowing much blood to get to his brain. The detective thought about how he was going to get some small spy cameras and microphones positioned to capture the five star action in the handicapped stall in the girl's john by noon tomorrow.

Chapter 18 - A Brace of Bodalicious Babes

Saturday morning, blissfully ignorant that her sister Cheryl had made her a target and that her ongoing sexual escapades were being captured on camera, lovely Kyla was smug and satisfied from putting one over on that stuck-up snot Charlene in the women's washroom. Unknown to Buck or Charlene, Kyla's dirty-minded girlfriends had snuck in right behind Charlene. As Charlene pulled down her panties and squatted down for a long noisy pee, they had one by one tiptoed up and peeped over the door to the handicapped stall, verifying that Buck was in position balancing precariously on the seat facing away from the door with his hands braced against the wall. His pants and boxer shorts were down around his knees and his tight bare buns were clearly visible with a smirking Kyla running her muscular tongue along his erect penis. Kyla gave each girlfriend a naughty wink when she stepped up, peeped in and, after a long incredulous look at Buck's dripping one-eyed milkman, stepped back hand over mouth, stifling a giggle.

Her friends had dug each other in the ribs and snickered quietly while they eavesdropped. Kyla had licked and slurped noisily at what she claimed to Charlene was a lollipop while Buck struggled manfully to perform quietly.

Kyla smirked a dirty little smirk indeed at her memories of a beautifully stage-managed event. Charlene had spent Friday afternoon totally mystified, wondering (a) why Kyla would make such a big deal out of slurping a lollipop in a washroom (yuck!) and (b) why every time Kyla's girlfriends looked at her they laughed hysterically, like she was the butt of some huge joke. A pretty pampered rich bitch, Charlene hated Kyla and her smirky mocking ways.

Kyla spied through the open doorway; surreptitiously watching as her mother critically inspected her heartbreakingly beautiful face in the bathroom mirror. Her mom was obviously trying to decide at what point a few laugh lines around the eyes turned into crow's feet. Parents may think that they're fooling the kids, but it was very apparent to Kyla that her mom felt that she was losing it. Although Laura hadn't told Kyla about how humiliating her break-up with her latest boyfriend had been, Kyla had instantly grasped the important part. Ever since the break-up, her Mom felt that she was old and inadequate. That dirty fucker Jeremy must have done a real number on her head.

Mom was obsessing. Nobody would even notice any laugh lines on Laura's lovely face unless they were using a magnifying glass. Mom had started worrying about aging when she hit the big three-oh. All her jealous friends' catty remarks about her being an 'old broad' had been foolishly taken to heart.

The recent humiliating break-up had cut her to the quick. Laura had been too embarrassed to tell Kyla that her latest rich boyfriend, Jeremy, had dumped her for being 'too old', going straight for her Achilles heel as only your nearest and dearest can. Even worse, he had come out of the closet and dumped her for a college boy. In kissing her off, Jeremy had told Laura that Raimondo not only had a tighter asshole, but he also gave better blowjobs.

In addition to being much, much younger.

Laura was getting a little desperate. Her high spending lifestyle required a fresh cash infusion. She badly needed another rich sucker to milk.

Kyla shook her head. Growing old was a bitch. A chip off the old block, Kyla's plan was to score big off some rich guy while she was still young. She took pity on her ancient ancestor so she suggested a cockteasing contest guaranteed to leave swollen members and achingly full testicles in its wake. Cockteasing always perked her mom up. Making the men pant in frustration reassured her that she was still a hot desirable fucktoy.

"Hey mom. Stop worrying! Get a grip! You look great! When we go to the mall, let's make the men drool! I'll tell you what. We'll walk together dressed in skimpy little outfits, everything wiggling, jiggling and bouncing. Then we'll split up and see how many men follow you and how many follow me. I bet I win!"

Although fond of leaving aching unrequited desire in her wake, Laura rolled her big blue eyes dramatically skywards.

"Lord, why did you burden me with this shameless young hussy?"

Kyla shook her pretty head.

"Mom, reality check. I get it from you!"

Shopping for clothes in the mall was a much-loved ritual with the mother and daughter. It almost always involved taunting the male population, frustrating them with some hot look-but-don't-touch sexuality, leaving stiff dicks and aching balls in their wake.

The pulchritudinous beauties boldly flaunted themselves in mini-skirts, high heels and halter-tops. Walking side by side in a runway model's walk, showing lots of cleavage, stomach muscles flexing under their smooth bare bellies, hips pumping, tight buns dimpling, tits bouncing, thighs flashing, Laura and Kyla caused all male heads to turn (and quite a few female heads). Men walking together instantly lost the thread of their conversations as they caught sight of the lithesome lovelies. Their knowing, smirky-bitch faces and sinuously pumping full-figured bodies promised untold sexual delights.

A great-looking babe has the power to cloud men's minds. Callipygous racehorses Kyla and Laura were causing a rolling blackout as the blood was drained from any male brain within eyeshot to engorge a more primal organ.

Since Sheik Rashid had an aversion to shopping with women, party girl Ilsa met them at the entranceway to the exclusive dress shop. Her job was to greet the meat and lull them into a false sense of security while luring them into the spider's web. A well-rounded woman, she also enjoyed making them scream afterwards.

The three women stepped into the elevator. Ilsa fished a gold key out of her Gucci purse. The gold key was given only to the most privileged (i.e. richest) customers. She inserted it into a slot on the elevator's control panel. This enabled the elevator doors to open when they selected the button to take them to the most exclusive floor of the store. Anyone else could press the button and the elevator would go to the floor, but without the gold key the doors wouldn't open. A team of fawningly obsequious saleswomen proffering glasses of wine and trays of cheese greeted them as the elevator's doors slid back. Ilsa smiled perkily.

"As he told you over the phone, Sheik Rashid wants you to select both formal wear and informal wear for your trip. All purchases will be at his expense. I'm here to advise on what is necessary and to pay on the Sheik's behalf."

Laura liked to be sure of things.

"We can pick anything we like?"

Ilsa nodded.

"Anything in the store. I've brought a photo album along to show you the Sheik at various events like the ones that you'll be attending. That way you can see what everybody else is wearing and can make your selections accordingly."

She opened the photo album. Laura and Kyla's beautiful blue eyes opened wide in amazement. The Sheik lived very well indeed. Daring and baring in the most elegant way possible seemed the order of the day for the females. Lesser men often wonder where the hell women would wear the delightfully skimpy, extremely revealing and thoroughly impractical outfits the leggy models flaunt when they swagger half nude down the fashion runways. A brief look into these photos of Sheik Rashid's lifestyle, parties and fun little events would have made it clear to them.

What the photos revealed to Laura and Kyla was that the competition was fierce. Being bold, daring and utterly shameless was the only way to succeed. They sized up the women in the photos with a fiercely competitive eye. The two fashion models were totally comfortable with baring and daring in public while some of the beauties in the photographs looked distinctly nervous, especially those gathered around the Sheik. It gave them hope.

"The next photos were taken aboard the Sheik's personal jet which will be flying you to his country when school lets out for the summer in a few weeks."

Kyla's jaw dropped.

"That's all on an airplane? He has fountains, a greenhouse, oil paintings, Persian carpets, tapestries and all that on a plane?"

Ilsa nodded serenely.

"In a bone-dry, sun-blasted desert country, fountains and lush green plants are a sign of wealth. As you can see, our oil Sheik has it all."

Ilsa knew that the Sheik often liked to toy with babes before he got down to the good ole scream and squirm. She could tell by the expressions on Laura and Kyla's perfect, high-cheekboned faces as they greedily studied the pictures that he was going to coax them into being real little performers.

A short while later, when Kyla disappeared into the dressing room to try on a fetchingly tight little black dress, Ilsa had a quiet word with Laura.

"The Sheik likes hiring beautiful women to be his 'companion' for short one-month stints. You are a bit older than he normally prefers, but he's been interested in you since your daughter Cheryl showed him your picture. He has to get to know you a bit beforehand, but you might do if you have the sort of sexual sophistication he's looking for despite your age. He usually likes women in their mid-twenties - still smooth and lithe, but old enough to be sexual sophisticates if they've been enterprising enough."

Ilsa paused, briefly but tellingly.

"¡that is, if you're at all interested?"

Laura perked up. Opportunity was knocking.

"How much does it pay?"

Ilsa was gratified by the way she cut right to the money. The detective had been right about how much Laura was hurting financially. Having seen video of both Laura and Raimondo in action, Ilsa knew that closet queen Jeremy was lying about the quality of Raimondo's BJs and all assholes were tight in Ilsa's strap-on dildo experience. In her opinion Jeremy had done superb work. He had shaken lovely Laura quite badly. Low self-esteem was something the Sheik liked to encourage in his bitches.

"The Sheik pays in high quality diamonds and he also tips in diamonds for any peculiarly satisfying performance. A large sum in diamonds is easily carried, easily hidden, easily smuggled. Diamonds are a girl's best friend, no doubt about it!"

This sounded excellent, but Laura wanted a rough dollar figure. Ilsa named a very handsome sum indeed. Laura was very tempted to try her hand at playing courtesan.

"Of course, the Sheik and you have to feel comfortable together first, but it's something to bear in mind as a possibility. Would you be at all interested in that sort of thing?"

Laura nodded. She glanced up as Kyla emerged from the dressing room and pirouetted prettily in front of a mirror, while lickspittle saleswomen ooh'd and ah'd admiringly. Laura lowered her voice and spoke confidentially.

"I would definitely be interested, if it could be handled discreetly. I wouldn't want to be embarrassed in front of my daughters."

Ilsa smiled.

"The Sheik is very discreet. He really, really, really hates being embarrassed himself. Enough said, then."

Laura smiled.

"It's a good thing he didn't hold Cheryl's little exercise in humiliating him against her."

Ilsa laughed. Laura had made all sorts of approving comments to the local newspapers about the picture of her daughter Cheryl throwing her pamphlets into Sheik Rashid's surprised face. Laura had called him 'that stupid rag head' to a local reporter. Kyla had chimed in that she wished she had kicked that 'Arab pig' in the ass along with Brandi ('we could each have taken a butt cheek and together kicked him to the moon'). The local newspaper, making it a matter of public record, had dutifully reported these and other offensive statements. Kyla and Laura's photogenic good looks made the story; along with their pictures of course, front page news.

Blissfully unaware that the Sheik had been apprised of these facts and had indeed studied a copy of the newspaper in question carefully, Laura rather brazenly assured Ilsa that she had chastised Cheryl severely for her reprehensible behaviour. Perfectly capable of handling bullshit with a straight face, Ilsa nodded agreeably.

"The Sheik is totally satisfied with Cheryl's apology. She's rather embarrassed about it all herself and is working very hard to make it up to him by being a diligent student of all things Arab, so that she can come back and tell others the true story. Arabs don't get very good media play in the United States."

Laura was approving of her favourite daughter, definitely the brains in the family.

"Very true! Good for her!"

Kyla joined them.

"What do you think of this outfit, mom?"

Kyla sashayed saucily in her black spike heels. The clinging black dress showed off leggy Kyla's spectacular figure. Her full breasts looked like they were going to pop out of the top. The short dress also highlighted her athletic legs, highly toned from performing fucksquats for Buck and other fun guys. There was no trace of a bra or panty line on the tight dress because naughty Kyla wasn't wearing any. Laura studied her carefully as Kyla did her fashion model walk back and forth in the skimpy little black dress. Put together with her knowing smirky-bitch face, the LBD made Kyla look like a dirty-minded brazen young hussy.

"It suits you."

Kyla glanced at the much more conservative pink body suit in Laura's hand. She was gently encouraging to her elderly mom. After all, her mom was an old fart of thirty-eight, although people sometimes rather irritatingly thought that she was Kyla's sister. Kyla was quick to set them straight. After all, her drop-dead gorgeous mom was still plenty good enough for rich older guys who couldn't score the young stuff anymore.

"Try it on, mom. Pink and blond really go together. Very sexy."

When Laura disappeared into the change room, it was Ilsa's moment to have a quiet word with Kyla.

"Although the Sheik prefers more sexually sophisticated women he likes your looks, despite your youth and inexperience. He pays very well for a one-month stint as a 'companion'. Would you be interested?"

Like mother, like daughter.

Kyla's eyes gleamed greedily.

"How much does it pay?"

A very handsome sum paid in diamonds appealed to neophyte gold-digger Kyla as well. A little sharper than her venerable ancestor, a very obvious thought occurred to her.

"Is that what Cheryl's doing there?"

Ilsa hesitated briefly, and then nodded, deciding to share a small portion of the truth.

"She's actually a companion for one of the Sheik's friends. She's putting in such an eager-beaver performance that her one-month contract has been renewed."

Kyla's eyes widened in surprise and malicious delight.

"Way to go, sis! I always thought that Cheryl was way too prissy for that kind of thing. How does she like it?"

Ilsa was diplomatic as she dispensed a few more partial truths.

"You can ask her yourself when we get there, but she hasn't complained about the money so far! Once she hooked up with this guy, he made her an offer she just couldn't refuse. It turns out that prissy Cheryl can be turned into a hot-holed root-riding fuckfiend with the right motivation!"

Kyla savoured this salacious news with a certain wicked delight. She was also a bit indignant.

"Really? What nerve! She was always telling me that I was too easy, that I should be more selective and only do it with well-educated, cultured, good-looking men instead of the fun guys! I always thought that Big Sis was quite the stuck-up little snot!"

Ilsa laughed easily.

"The guy she's doing it with is definitely NOT good-looking or well-educated, but they're certainly fucking like minks morning, noon and night!"

Kyla clapped her hands in delight.

"This I've got to see."

Ilsa lowered her voice conspiratorially.

"Can you keep a dirty little secret?"

Kyla's nodded encouragingly. She loved dirty little secrets.

"I'm not supposed to tell you about this, but I like you. I can tell that you're a filthy-minded female after my own heart. I could get in big, big trouble if it ever leaked out. Promise not to tell anyone or let on to the Sheik that I told you?"

Kyla agreed eagerly.

"Excellent! The Sheik has cameras hidden in his friend's house. I can guarantee that Cheryl doesn't look like a 'stuck-up little snot' when she's stripping naked and doing the nasty with this big ugly guy. Promise, promise, promise not to tell anyone!"

Kyla couldn't stop grinning. She had always thought that her mum liked Cheryl best. It was great to find out that Miss University Educated Smarty-Pants was really a dirty little whore at heart.

"So she's performing for the cameras and doesn't know about it?"

Ilsa nodded. While Kyla hooted triumphantly, Ilsa smirked.

"You'll be surprised. Maybe Big Sis used to talk the talk, but she definitely ain't walkin' the walk, baby sister."

Ilsa dangled a largely unnecessary carrot.

"When you come on the plane maybe I'll be able to show you some pictures of Miss Goody Two Shoes in action."

Ilsa lowered her voice confidentially.

"She must have demanded big, big bucks for this guy. Once you see him you'll know what I mean. You can tell from the video that she's eager to please. There's no other reasonable explanation for it. I mean it can't be true love. This guy is gross!"

Sibling rival Kyla was enchanted. She knew that she was a lot hotter than her sister and could do much much better than this loser Cheryl was putting out for.

"I can hardly wait!"

Ilsa looked concerned.

"Above all, don't tell anybody, especially not your mother."

Kyla smirked and winked slyly. Teenagers love being one-up on their ignorant parents.

"As far as mom's concerned: mum's the word!"

Sheik Rashid hated shopping with women, watching them spend hours picking over stuff they had no real interest in and no intention of buying. Having lunch with two bodalicious beauties in a high-class restaurant was another thing entirely. The exclusive dining room, boasting it's own Cordon Bleu chef, could only be reserved via an unlisted phone number, which was revealed solely to the most plutocratic patrons.

Their shopping done, Ilsa led Laura and Kyla to the Sheik's table and withdrew tactfully. His expensive white robes fell about him with simple elegance as Sheik Rashid stood and regally shook hands with them. The thin hawk-nosed Arab had a firm vigorous handshake and quick, knowing eyes.

They were very impressed. Sheik Rashid radiated power and dignity as only an extremely rich man can, a man who has been commanding deeply respectful servants from birth, servants who could be stripped and whipped for any failure to satisfy. He had a dangerous raw animal edge to his personality that most women found attractive, at least initially.

"I was visiting my good friend and advisor Professor Heinrich at the university and this is not very far out of my way. I believe he instructed Cheryl in one of her courses."

"What does Professor Heinrich advise you on?"

Brash Kyla was all questions as they sat down.

"He advises me on how to handle my critics!"

Kyla snickered.

"I thought you guys just chopped off their heads!"

Laura shot her a sharp warning glance, which the insouciant teenager blithely ignored. Sheik Rashid, of course, preferred a much more lingering fate for his enemies than merely chopping off their heads. A world-famous specialist in the psychology of torture, Professor Heinrich had been full of helpful suggestions for making his opponents writhe and scream.

Rashid winked at Laura and laughed indulgently.

"That was the good old days! In these modern times, my critics have to be handled with such delicacy that a professor of psychology is needed for advice! I must give a reasoned response to their criticism, one that preserves my dignity while putting them firmly in their place."

Well, that was certainly a tactful way of putting it. Brash Kyla pouted playfully.

"I'm soooo disappointed! I was looking forward to seeing some hangings, beheadings, stonings, public whippings, chopping off a thief's right hand so that he is forced to eat his food with the same hand he uses to wipe his bum¡"

Laura halted her sharply.

"Kyla! That's quite enough young lady!"

Kyla rolled her eyes.

"Mom, get a grip! I'm just joking!"

Sheik Rashid had a partial truth of his own to dispense.

"I'm sure that your daughter Cheryl can tell you all about what truly happens in my country."

"Yeah, mom. Do you think that the Sheik's some kind of animal or that I'm stupid enough to insult him?"

Laura was huffy.

"I don't think that sort of talk is suitable for the dinner table, young woman. Keep a civil tongue in your head."

Kyla winked at the bemused Sheik as she lovingly needled her mom on a sensitive spot.

"Listen to her! I asked for a mom and got a granny instead!"

Age sensitive Laura looked stung. Before she could say anything, Sheik Rashid held up his hand commandingly and provided a much-needed diversion.

"Ladies! Ladies! So much that you have heard is simply not true! You've probably heard that we don't drink alcohol and yet here's a bottle of the very finest champagne! We Arabs are hardly savages."

He gestured grandly around them at the plush drapes, the fine linen, the opulent hand crafted furniture, the expensive silverware, the delicate china plates, the parchment menus and the waiters in their elegant tailored outfits. The sommelier poured the amber bubbly into three crystal champagne flutes. Rashid raised his slim flute up high.

"A toast to Cheryl, who is responsible for introducing you to an adventure that only the oil wealth of the Middle East could provide!"

Laura and Kyla raised their champagne flutes. They tapped their flutes delicately together. The Waterford crystal clinked musically.

"To Cheryl!"

While this civilized tableau was being enacted, Cheryl and her two friends were sweating their way through adventures 'that only the oil wealth of the Middle East could provide'.

Naked on her knees in the grip of morning sickness, Cheryl puked long and hard on the beautiful inlaid ceramic floor. Wartface, the presumed father of her child, affected a deep concern for his unborn offspring (Cheryl was already thinking of it as Wartface Junior). He spoke sternly to the gravid beauty as she hunched over, dug deep and practically tossed up her toenails.

"You must lick up every drop of vomit from the floor. Remember, you are eating for two!"

Cheryl began trying to choke it down, although her rebellious stomach was making this a challenging task. The smooth ceramic tiles felt cool against her tongue, but working her vomit out from the grout between the tiles was a raspy experience.

After she had licked up every drop, she squatted down, impaled herself on his thickly veined pork sword and began to perform fucksquats.

"Just because a whore is pregnant doesn't mean that she can stop fucking. It's important to keep your passage lubricated and stretched for a smooth delivery."

Elsewhere and with visible reluctance, Brandi stepped nude into the shit pit; a deep steaming swimming pool filled with a nauseating mixture of warm feces and hot urine. Large fat flies buzzed lazily over the surface. Brandi grimaced and swatted them away as they tried to settle on her naked flesh.

Impatient with her speed, Achmed the Shitfucker touched an electric prod to her bare butt. Brandi shrieked shrilly. Her arms windmilled wildly as she slipped and almost fell. Recovering her balance, she waded carefully towards the deep end of the pool. The warm mixture covered her knees and worked queasily between her bare toes. Brandi waded deeper and deeper. She sobbed as the level slowly rose to her waist and she felt the piss-shit mixture seep into her cunt.

Then came the hard part.

Achmed tossed her a snorkel. Knowing that if she didn't do it he would fry her ass with the electric prod and hold her head under in the shit pit until she choked, she put it into her mouth. The stench was unbearable. Breathing shallowly, she waded slowly ever deeper, feeling the rancid filth creeping higher and higher over her sensitive stomach. She shuddered when the muddy feculent mixture touched the bottoms of her bobbing breasts. It soon rose to the level of her tightly shrivelled nipples and then covered them completely.

Finally she screwed her eyes tightly shut and the mixture closed over her head. It soaked her hair and trickled creepily into her ear holes. She breathed noisily through the snorkel.

Thoughtfully, Achmed walked along a grid set over the fetid pool and peed into her snorkel. The camera crew laughed as Brandi rocketed to the surface, choking and sobbing.

She floundered her way out of the pool, dripping reeking feculence. Achmed sat naked awaiting her, his pole erect and dripping. A thoroughly degraded female, Brandi lowered herself and, like Cheryl, she too began performing Kyla's favourite exercise, the fucksquat.

Somehow, she didn't bring quite the same joy to it.

The third student of Middle Eastern torment, Melody, gasped and clamped her hands over her bare breasts as the voltage hit her. It felt like a hard punch to the chest. She hunched over and continued to run the long gauntlet of electric prods wielded by the grinning Hounds of Allah Rape Squad. Lined up in two rows, Melody squealed like a slaughterhouse pig as she scurried between them.

The next guy went straight for the genitals. Melody shrieked, leapt like a gazelle and clamped both hands over her cunt as she hurried forward.

The electric prods sizzled and cracked wickedly as Melody screamed her way towards the priapic Dr. Li, her goal at the end of the gauntlet. The brutal prodding only stopped when she hurriedly wrapped her cunt around Dr. Li's ever-ready member and began performing fucksquats.

Cheryl, Brandi and Melody all ended up performing Kyla's favourite exercise, the fucksquat. Although they each put in a polished, very well-practised performance, they sadly lacked her flair and enthusiasm.

Chapter 19 - Some Fresh Meat Goes into the Grinder

It was the last day of school and lovely Kyla was upset. She stood at the office, waiting for her appointment with the principal. Kyla hadn't done very well in the last semester. She did superbly with male teachers, but unfortunately had received all female teachers for the last semester. Her marks had plummeted. She had repeatedly requested a change of teacher and each time got even worse female ones. She suspected that Candance, the school secretary, had something to do with that.

She was right. Her rival Charlene had maliciously bribed Candance into making sure that Kyla's schedule contained only female teachers. When Kyla wanted a schedule change, Candance asked Charlene about it and rich bitch Charlene was happy to slip her a few more bucks to make sure that Kyla was assigned someone like Miss McGinty, a heavyset ex-marine drill sergeant, keeping her firmly with an unsympathetic all-female teaching regime.

Kyla stared at Candance who stared back at her with bland innocence.

"Hey, Candy! I hear that you have a lot to do with deciding a student's schedule."

Stifling a fear that she had been found out, twenty-four year old Candance coolly studied the insolent eighteen year old with her green eyes.

"My name is Candance and the computer decides the schedule."

Kyla was breezily insolent.

"Whatever, Candy. My computer nerd friends say that computers only do what people tell them to. You tell it what to do, so coming up with only female teachers is your fault."

Kyla actually wasn't too sure of this technical stuff, but she watched Candance carefully to see how she reacted to the accusation. Candance's green eyes shifted guiltily as she replied.

"I repeat, the computer decides based on its programming. I don't program it. I just feed it your course requests."

Candance decided that the best defence was a good offence.

"What's wrong with female teachers? Aren't you smart enough to understand what they're saying?"

Abandoning any pretence of tact, Kyla released her inner bitch.

"Bad things can happen to smart-asses, Candy. Somebody might sprinkle itching powder into the spare bra and panties that you probably carry in that gym bag. They could drop some sharp tacks into your boots on the mat there for an ouch-y surprise when you take off those high heels and pull on your boots to go home. They could squirt water on the back of your dress, aiming exactly for where you can't see it. When you walk down the hallway everybody will think you've peed your panties. Better yet, someone could squirt some pig's blood down the back of your dress so it looks like you're having a really bad period and are too stupid to stopper it up properly."

Candance scowled.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're an unpleasant child?"

Kyla wasn't done.

"And you're a short little runt. How tall are you? Five foot four? Just barely tall enough to stare me in the tits."

She eyed Candance's bosom and laughed derisively.

"36C is my guess if they're real and not padded. Well, I'm a D cup myself and not a piddling 36 either. And that hair! Fashion tip, Candy: if you're going to dye your hair, blond beats brunette."

The principal opened his office door and poked his head out. Instantly, Kyla favoured him with a radiant smile of cloying sweetness. She adopted a sugary little-girl voice.

"Mr. Houseman, sir? I think that there's been a serious error with my marks."

Mr. Houseman looked at the young beauty indulgently.

"These stupid computers are always making mistakes. It's the curse of the age! I know that you're a good student, Kyla. Come in to my office and let's see what we can do to straighten it out."

Behind his back, Kyla shot Candance a self-satisfied smirk and surreptitiously flipped her the bird. She sauntered confidently into the principal's office to wrap Mr. Houseman around her little finger. Candance was glad that it was the last day of school and that she would be moving to a much more interesting and very well-paying summer job. Putting up with snotty teen queens like Kyla was getting a bit wearing and all those threats were vaguely worrisome.

She moved her gym bag and boots to behind the counter where she could keep a better eye on them and felt the back of her dress for dampness. To her relief, it was dry. She picked up her gleaming patent leather high-heeled boots, looked inside, turned them upside down and shook them. No tacks fell out. Relieved, Candance felt that her problems with Kyla were over.

She was, of course, sadly mistaken.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day was the beginning of summer vacation. On board Sheik Rashid's private jet, Ilsa primly pulled down the woman's slacks and panties just enough to bare her bum. Then she set to work.

Her bound victim moaned through her ring gag as Ilsa picked up a thick hardwood paddle and positioned herself carefully. The ring gag was an O made of stainless steel, held in place inside her mouth behind her teeth, selected for maximum size to open her jaws achingly wide. A thick leather strap attached to either side of the O bit into the sides of her mouth and buckled behind her head, holding the gag in position. The ring gag discouraged backchat while facilitating the emission of crystal clear screams and, as occasion required, projectile vomiting. It also forced a victim to drool continuously. This was no problem. Ilsa had no objection to a victim looking and feeling like a helpless dribbling idiot.

The woman's beautifully rounded, lily-white butt cheeks twitched and tightened, dimpling nicely with each loud smacking kiss of the hardwood paddle. The hardwood paddle was narrow. That, combined with the convex curve of its surface, concentrated the force of its blows perfectly and painfully on quivering, perfectly rounded ass globes. Hands bound over her head; the bare bummed beauty was stretched out and strapped firmly in place facedown on a narrow, studded leather spanking table. She grunted with each stroke. Her jerking bare butt cheeks turned a deeper shade of red with each crisp slap of the paddle on her shapely derriere.

The paddling was skilfully done. The angle and placement of the strokes on her bouncing, clenching ass globes was varied constantly, shellacking the three muscles of her naked buttocks with a brutal equality. As the paddling progressed and the deep bruising began, the woman began to jerk violently, arching up against the restraining straps with each stroke, screaming shrilly out of the ring gag. Sweat stains appeared on her silk blouse around each armpit and over the small of her back as she strained mightily against the creaking leather straps with each flaming kiss of the hardwood paddle.

When her victim's ass globes were burning a deep dark red all over, Ilsa stopped. She rested her palm on her victim's backside. The smoothly rounded, unbroken skin was swollen and feverishly hot to the touch.

Delicately, she pulled the woman's elegant white silk panties back up, so that her burning bum was covered. She pulled the woman's form-fitting tailor made slacks back up to her waist so that she was decent once more.

Ilsa grabbed a fistful of the woman's chestnut hair and pulled her carefully made up, albeit tearstained, face from the table.

"That was lesson number one. Lesson number two begins immediately."

Ilsa took a red rubber feeding tube from the adjacent table and rammed it into the woman's nostril, pushing more and more of the feeding tube into her nose. The woman gagged when the tube touched the back of her throat. Ilsa withdrew the tube slightly and then forced it in again, making her victim retch violently. The woman in the expensive navy blue business suit hadn't eaten in a while. Nevertheless, a small quantity of bitter green vomit burned up her throat, sprayed from the ring gag and dribbled down her chin.

Against her every desire, the frantically resisting woman felt the rubber tube slide past the back of her tongue and down her throat, and knew it was in her esophagus. Ilsa poured a huge quantity of warm strong coffee down the feeding tube. The woman felt her stomach expand queasily until it was unpleasantly full.

"Lesson number two is an exercise in bladder control."

Sheik Rashid had been watching the woman's contorted, wild-eyed face intently, studying her reactions with interest, savouring every gasp and whimper. He laughed and applauded.

"Excellent work, Ilsa! I know how hard it is to be a Master. The Dominant One has to do the lion's share of the work thinking up things to amuse and entertain. There's a lot of pressure to always be coming up with new tricks. The victim has the easy part. All she has to do is react! I can tell from the look in her eyes that this insolent TV reporter knows that no matter how hard she resists, you have engineered it so that she will soon be peeing in her panties while everybody watches and the cameras record her humiliation for posterity."

Gratified at this recognition of her expertise and effort, Ilsa thoughtfully made sure that one camera was focussed on her victim's pink sweating face and that another could get a good crotch shot between her victim's slightly spread legs.

Elsewhere, Laura roared up to her house in a soon-to-be-repossessed red sports car, squealing to a stop and raising a cloud of dust. She pounded the padded steering wheel in frustration, upset at having missed the limo. Laura could have sworn that the other drivers had been deliberately blocking her small sports car from getting back in time by forcing her to miss her exit from the freeway. As a result, she had to go far out of her way, hence her lateness. It was almost like it was a plot to separate her from Kyla.

She went to the kitchen and read Kyla's note telling her tardy mom not to have a cow, but that the limo had left already. It had picked up Kyla who had left a snarky little message advising her 'venerable ancestor' that another limo would be sent for her when she finally condescended to show up, leaving her a telephone number to phone for a pickup.

Identical in many ways, Laura and Kyla had been brought up in the catty, mean-spirited world of the beauty contest. Both mother and daughter were totally comfortable with mealy-mouthed hypocrisy. In their hands it was a lethal weapon. Intensely competitive, Laura hated the idea of her young daughter stealing a march on her with the Sheik. God knows she desperately needed to impress him. To start off by being late wasn't helping. She swallowed her frustration as Ilsa greeted her at the airport.

Ilsa ushered Laura aboard the gigantic luxury jet.

"The Sheik really likes Kyla's looks which she and Cheryl obviously got from you. He's talking with young Kyla right now."

She put a small, subtle emphasis on the 'young'. This touched a rather sensitive nerve in Laura who in addition to her recent humiliations, had retired from modelling because she felt that her full-figured good looks could no longer compete with the skinny 16-year-olds that were the fashion ideal. Ilsa noted her brief flash of discomfiture with satisfaction. The detective's report had been dead right. The stunning beauty was more than a bit touchy about getting older.

"After I give you a tour of the Sheik's jumbo jet, I'll take you to them."

Laura cleared her throat impatiently.

"Um, maybe you could take me to the Sheik right now to make my apologies for being late."

Ilsa was firm.

"It's important for you to know your way around the plane. The Sheik gets irritated if people bother him with what he regards as foolish questions that he thinks they should already know the answers to, like where the woman's restroom is."

Seeing that Laura was about to argue further, Ilsa hastened to provide a small modicum of reassurance.

"It's a long flight to the Middle East. You'll have plenty of time to make the Sheik's acquaintance."

Ilsa winked slyly and dangled a carrot.

"I can tell you a few things about your host that will be extremely helpful for you to know before you meet him, things that Kyla with her youthful inexperience hasn't a clue about."

Fascinated with this useful possibility, Laura acquiesced.

They buckled up briefly while the plane took off and then Ilsa showed Laura some of the many wonders of the huge jumbo jet, where everything was and how to get around. Well, almost everything. If pretty Laura had been a bit better with the mental imaging, she would have realised that a few soundproofed rooms were missing from Ilsa's overview. For example, a room in which an insolent TV reporter was learning lesson number three from Gretchen while strapped firmly in a barber's chair.

There are two things that all people who appear regularly in front of the TV cameras always possess: pride and dignity. Lesson number three was about a losing struggle to maintain dignity in front of the cameras filming her. It was extremely difficult for the insolent reporter to retain any semblance of either pride or dignity while sitting in a sweat-stained blouse on a deeply bruised bum with a huge pee stain at the crotch of her slacks and drooling out of her ring gag. Not that lesson one, being publicly spanked on her bare bum, or lesson two, peeing in her panties while everyone watched, had done much for her self-esteem.

Television personalities are often picked for their photogenic good looks so there was a certain peacock pride in her personal appearance to be dealt with. Using a small wet sponge, Gretchen scrubbed vigorously to remove every trace of the reporter's make-up, robbing her pale face of every iota of colour as she wiped away mascara, blush and lipstick. She mimicked a fashion consultant.

"We're trying for the total billiard ball look."

Saying which, Gretchen picked up an electric shaver and sheared her victim like a sheep. Chestnut hair fell in huge clumps as it was shaved from her head. The insolent TV reporter's eyes were drawn automatically to the TV monitor where she could only stare in shocked horror at the stubble that was all that remained of her once glorious chestnut mane.

Gretchen lathered up her scalp, working the lather into her stubble with her fingers. She held the straight razor on front of the insolent TV reporter's despairing eyes.

"Hold very still. The blade is extremely sharp. I wouldn't want to cut your jugular by mistake!"

The reporter froze in her seat. She took deep breaths, not uttering a peep as Gretchen painstakingly razored every hair from her head. It was a close shave that made her scalp burn. Gretchen lathered up each eyebrow and smoothly sliced it off.

"What beautiful long eyelashes you have!"

Gretchen picked up a pair of tweezers.

"Hold still again. You wouldn't want to lose an eye."

Gripping the eyelashes in small clumps, she jerked them out with the joy of a child sadistically pulling the wings from a fly.

Some challenges are definitely uphill work. The TV reporter took a horrified look at the bald pasty-faced clown staring back at her from the monitor and burst into tears, bawling like a baby.

Ilsa was open, friendly and enthusiastic as she showed Laura the many facilities and features of the plane: the greenhouse, the fountains, some delicious samples of the superb cuisine and the party room. Laura was amazed.

Ilsa inspected Laura's prim form-fitting tailor-made outfit and gave her a sly look.

"That outfit is good enough for the street, but I think you should know. Young Kyla changed once she got on the plane and is dressed rather daringly. You remember that see-through outfit that she purchased at the store? The naughty little minx is wearing it as we speak."

Ilsa saw Laura's eyes narrow in a competitive way that warmed the cockles of her crotch. She adopted a confidential, conspiratorial air.

"You know what the Sheik really likes? It takes a woman of experience and poise to bring it off."

Ilsa was gratified to see that she had captured Laura's attention completely.

"He likes the Bondage Babe look. You know those outfits that are all leather straps? Wear one of those with spike-heeled ankle boots. He likes experienced, knowledgeable women who are very naughty indeed."

Ilsa winked slyly at her.

"It's no coincidence that I have one¡ if you're interested. It's all straps so it's adjustable to any figure. Wearing that, I'm sure that you can beat out a teenager no matter how much she bats her eyes, jiggles her tits and flashes him a bit of nipple. Want to show up your young daughter and show the Sheik what a real woman is like, a woman of experience and sexual sophistication, the sort of woman he craves?"

Ilsa nudged her coyly.

"If you're willing to wear this little outfit, I think that I can get your daughter out of the way so you can have some one-on-one time with the Sheik. How about it?"

Laura was very interested indeed.

In the meantime, Sheik Rashid chatted amiably with young Kyla, who was doing her very best to seem a woman of the world who hobnobbed with men of wealth on a daily basis.

He had brought up a topic all teenagers can relate to. Eighteen-year-old Kyla vigorously trashed all her teachers at high school with catty viciousness.

While Kyla dumped on all her teachers, Sheik Rashid eyed her semi-transparent clinging dress appreciatively. It definitely revealed more than it concealed. Going bra-less gave her lots of jiggle and showed off her large nipples. Especially when backlit, her tight cuntlips and aureolae were clearly visible, pressing firmly against the fine body-hugging material. From the way she positioned her torso in profile and spread her legs as she turned to face him, he was certain that the sly little minx knew all about backlighting.

It was definitely time to move the conversation to more intimate topics.

"I'm always interested in how young people think. I have a rather risqu¨¦ joke to tell about your playwright George Bernard Shaw."

Kyla's big blue eyes flashed provocatively.

"Fire away!"

Rashid looked deep into her big blue eyes and arched an eyebrow roguishly.

"He was sitting at a dinner party next to a very prim and proper English Lady. He turned to her and asked 'would you sleep with a man for 10 million dollars'?"

Kyla smiled radiantly. This was her sort of joke all right.

"The prim English Lady says 'of course'!"

The Sheik winked at Kyla.

"Then he asked 'would you do it for fifty cents'?"

The Sheik spread his hands dramatically.

"The Lady was outraged and indignant as she replied 'of course not! What do you think I am?'"
Sheik Rashid smiled urbanely.

"To which Mr. Shaw replied: 'we've already established what you are. We are merely negotiating the price!'"

Kyla snickered appreciatively. She liked the way this conversation was going. She gripped his arm briefly as she bent over in laughter, playing a little touchy-feely to push things along.

"Good one! All good-looking women are whores. The rest are jealous because they have nothing to offer!"

Sheik Rashid poked her playfully in the ribs.

"Surely beautiful women are like rare jewels and the rest are lumps of coal."

"Very true! There are whole truckloads of coal out there! Us rare jewels command top dollar."

"What do you mean by 'trucks', there are whole trainloads and super-tankers full of cheap coal out there!"

They both had a good chuckle. No matter how hard Sheik Rashid squeezed a piece of coal; it never turned into a diamond. However, he did like squeezing the diamonds. He squeezed Kyla's upper arm gently.

"I notice that your ears and bellybutton are pierced. Have you thought of doing anything more? A tongue stud, nipple rings, tattoos?"

Self-absorbed Kyla was always happy to talk about herself.

"Eeeewwww! Those are for really trampy sluts! I know a few girls at school who are into body piercing and it sucks bigtime. They're just trying to do something interesting to attract attention to themselves because they don't have great bodies. Those tongue studs make them sound like total retards when they talk! They're supposed to be good for BJs, but that just does stuff for the guy, not for me! And don't even mention tattoos. The same ugly sluts have them for the same reason. A fashion model can't afford to have her body marked up that way."

Kyla smiled perkily.

"Did I mention that I'm a fashion model?"

In another room, Ilsa was showing Laura her leather strap outfit.

"It's brand new! Never been used before! I'll help you put it on."

Laura laughed.

"I've worn more revealing things on the fashion runway. It can't do any harm to try it on. If it doesn't work for me, we'll just pick something else to make my grand entrance in!"

Laura stripped with the shameless insouciance of a high fashion model who, as a matter of routine, has exhibited her most intimate body parts to large audiences with the cameras zooming in for close-ups of a turgid nipple or a nicely dimpled derriere. When she was gloriously naked, she pirouetted gracefully for Ilsa.

"Not bad for an old broad, eh?"

Ilsa inspected Laura's nicely tanned body from her high-cheekboned, heartbreakingly lovely face with big blue eyes and fine blond hair right down to her perfect little toes. Large breasts with no trace of sag, big red perfectly shaped nipples, a flat belly, tight buns, a smooth shaven pussy and the long elegant legs all made a delightful package.

"Lady, you've got 99.9999% of the female population beaten senseless! They couldn't compete!"

Pleased, Laura sat down, parked her bare bum on a well-padded chair, pointed her toes prettily, pulled on the spike heeled black ankle boots and laced them up. The heels were so high that she was practically walking on tiptoe, but Laura had been balancing in spike heels most of her working life so this was no new challenge. The difference between high fashion and complete sluttiness has always been a very fine line indeed. She stood up and sauntered about sexily, looking like a very high-priced call girl.

Ilsa explained how the straps fit onto the naked female torso.

"The thicker strap down the back is the 'backbone' that holds it all together. So we start off by hanging that down your back while we buckle up the leather collar at the top that holds it in place. It's a nice thick collar that forces you to hold your chin up and present your torso nicely. I'll buckle it up so that it's snug, but doesn't cut off too much blood to the brain. We wouldn't want you passing out!"

Laura laughed agreeably.

"We wouldn't want that. I got dizzy and fell down on a runway in Milan once when a dresser fastened a bow tie around my throat too tightly. I felt like a complete idiot and the rankest of rank amateurs."

"The thick studded belt around your waist has to be cinched pretty tight, so you'll have to keep your belly sucked in."

"No problem! I work out at the gym three times a week to keep my girlish figure."

It was a pleasure dealing with someone who was experienced at handling the daring and discomfort of a serious female fashion statement. Ilsa slid the waist belt down, adjusting its position on the 'backbone' until it was at the slimmest point of Laura's waist and pulled it tight. A deep breath was now out of the question, so Laura breathed in shallow pants.

"This strap goes over your breasts. There's a small clip inside each of these round metal covers that slide along it to cover your nipples. The clips snap onto your teats. They serve the dual purpose of covering up those yummy big nipples of yours and preventing the strap from popping loose."

Ilsa smiled pleasantly.

"You should clip them on yourself. There's a small screw on each clip so that you can tighten it. You've got lots of jiggle so I'd recommend you tighten it as much as possible. If it pops loose, I guess it's a lot like falling down on that runway in Milan - embarrassing and not too professional."

"Whatever happened to pasties?"

"The studded belt and metal covers are heavy. If we used glue strong enough to hold them in place you wouldn't be happy with the removal process. Anyway, this won't be for long. You just want to make a dynamite first impression and then you can slip into that delightful leather vest and leather miniskirt combo that you selected at the clothing store the other day. I mentioned it to the Sheik and he seemed interested."

This was valuable information.

"Oh really? Is the Sheik into leather?"

Ilsa nodded emphatically.

"As your daughter would say: bigtime!"

Laura giggled. She twisted the screw on the nipple clamps, her giggle changing to a grimace as she tightened them brutally to avoid embarrassment. Ilsa buckled up the two slim straps that encircled Laura's torso just above and just below her quivering titmeat.

The 'backbone' piece of leather tapered into a crotch strap. Ilsa threaded on a slim triangular piece that fit snugly into Laura's butt crack.

"This has a small anal insert to hold it in position, Laura. That's so it doesn't slip up and down in your butt crack along the crotch strap. I'll just grease it up and slip it in."

Laura breathed in sharply as the smoothly rounded metal rod was poked into her anus.

"Wow! That's what I call a rather intimate item of apparel!"

Ilsa smiled reassuringly.

"Next is the crotch cover. I think you'll rather like this. Its design holds it in place."

Laura obligingly spread her legs as Ilsa slid the slim crotch cover onto the strap. The inside of the crotch cover was a V-shaped ridge with a line of beading along the top of the V that would fit into Laura's slit, parting her cuntlips. It had a small, soft, cunningly shaped, subtly vibrating nubbin protruding from one end to tickle her clit with every step.

Ilsa threaded the crotch strap through a stainless steel loop hanging from the front of the waist belt. She looped the crotch strap back upon itself and snugged it tight.

Laura's big blue eyes popped open and she breathed in sharply as the lubricated V-shaped crotch cover burrowed into her slit. In the process, it parted and cupped her cuntlips. The vibrating nubbin quivered delicately against her clit.

"God! That's great!"

Ilsa smirked smugly.

"Try walking!"

The exaggerated hip swings of Laura's runway model walk meant that the superbly designed crotch cover massaged her cuntlips and rubbed her rapidly stiffening clit ecstatically with each step.

"I'm not too keen on the nipple clips. It feels like my teats are on fire, but the rest is exquisite! The only problem is that it's pretty distracting. I'm not sure that I can walk and talk at the same time!"

She looked down at the waist belt curiously.

"What are these metal rings on each side used for?"

Ilsa grinned.

"The handcuffs. It's part of the Total Look. Want to try it?"

Laura was bold.

"If it's part of the Total Look, I guess I have to! I'm a sucker for an extreme fashion statement! The more outrageous the better!"

Ilsa nodded approvingly as she produced two pairs of handcuffs.

"It really completes the Bondage Babe theme. The Sheik's going to love this!"

Ilsa cuffed Laura's wrists to her sides. She snapped one cuff snugly around Laura's right wrist and the other cuff to the belt ring on her right side. She did the same with the other pair of handcuffs, cuffing her left wrist to her left belt ring.

Laura turned in front of the full-length mirror, inspecting herself critically. She looked the perfect Bondage Bitch.

"Are you sure that it's not too much?"

"Positive! Since when does understated ever work with men? You have to hit them right in the gonads with something totally outrageous!"

Laura sniggered.

"Too true!"

Ilsa dangled a huge carrot.

"The Sheik gives huge bonuses at the end of the month for women that please him. The sum I mentioned earlier is just the base salary. We're talking about being rewarded with real diamonds the size of walnuts. You'll be set up for life, no matter how extravagant your lifestyle."

Laura's beautiful blue eyes gleamed with greed.

"I have to warn you that the Sheik is an extremely demanding master."

Like her daughter, Laura could fuck like a mink. She spoke confidently.

"Don't worry. I've satisfied some of the fiercest horndogs ever born."

Ilsa smirked smugly.

"Then wait here a second! I'll cut the Teen Angel out of the picture to make way for a real woman!"

Ilsa entered the party room and approached the Sheik and Kyla, smiling brightly.

"Sheik Rashid! You asked me to remind you about the video conference with some of your OPEC colleagues."

A fountain suddenly splashed to life next to them. Kyla stared in fascination at the splashing, burbling, splendorous fountain carefully backlit to produce a multitude of miniature rainbows shimmering prettily in the spray. With Kyla's attention briefly diverted, Ilsa slipped the Sheik a sly wink. Rashid grinned and turned to Kyla.

"It seems that I have a most important meeting and must, alas, leave you temporarily. Have you considered the offer Ilsa mentioned to you about a position as a 'companion'?"

Kyla's blue eyes narrowed to greedy slits.

"I have no problem with accepting that sort of offer."

Rashid laughed delightedly and turned to Ilsa.

"Perhaps you would care to earn a generous advance by posing for some nude, lewd and rude photos while I attend the meeting and then talk with your mother."

Kyla looked a little concerned.

"Um. You wouldn't show these pictures to my mother, would you?"

"The pictures are for my own enjoyment, not your mother's."

Kyla accepted this slightly ambiguous response, not realizing that the Sheik's enjoyment of nude pictures might include showing them to her mother and enjoying her reaction as well. She had another concern.

"If I totally accept your offer to be a 'companion', and I'm strongly tempted, there's a small problem called 'mom'. How do we get her out of the picture while I service you?"

"I'll tell your mother that you and Cheryl are going off on an adventurous tour together and have my servants amuse her while you amuse me!"

Kyla brought a teenager's expertise in conning adults (especially darkly suspicious mothers) to bear on this trifling problem.

"Mom hates the sun. She claims it ages her skin and gives her wrinkles. Tell her we're going to see camel races in the dusty, blazing desert sun."

Rashid smiled happily.

"Agreed! Ilsa, show her the diamonds for the pictures. Kyla, if I'm satisfied with the result, then I'll get your mom out of the way and you can become my 'companion' for a month. After you show her the diamonds, Ilsa, introduce her to my photographer. Gretchen is world famous for her sexually sophisticated nude portraits."

Kyla smirked lewdly.

"You won't regret this."

Sheik Rashid was a gallant horndog.

"I only regret missed opportunities and this one is too good to pass up!"

In another part of the plane, Gretchen had moved to teaching the insolent TV reporter lesson number four. Sliding wildly down the slippery slope to total degradation, the insolent reporter stank of sweat, piss and vomit. The ring gag kept her mouth propped wide open so that she was drooling steadily onto her blouse and gaping like a particularly vapid fish. The badly shaken female stood before Gretchen, still fully dressed with her wrists bound behind her and her dainty ankles strapped together. Gretchen unbuttoned the bald babe's expensive form-fitting white silk blouse and opened it wide to reveal the white bra underneath. She flourished the straight razor. The insolent reporter eyed it apprehensively.

"Remember this?"

The bald reporter nodded nervously. How could she forget?

"It has other uses than making your head as smooth as a billiard ball."

Gretchen slipped the razor under each bra strap and sliced upwards.

Gretchen grinned as she pulled up on the blouse, untucking it all around. The reporter shivered as she felt the smooth silk brush against her bare skin as her sweat-stained blouse slid out from the waistband of her pee-stained slacks. Gretchen reached up the back of the bitch's blouse and unhooked her bra.

"Let's see what you have to offer."

She held the tit warmed bra in her hands and admired the insolent reporter's full, ripe breasts. Pale pink, slightly upturned nipples that were almost the same colour as the surrounding skin slowly hardened in the cool, air-conditioned air of the plane. Gretchen approved.

"Perfect! It will make lesson number four so much easier to teach."

Gretchen picked up a remote control and pressed a button. The reporter raised her big brown eyes upwards as an electric motor hummed overhead. Two small nooses lowered from the ceiling and stopped, dangling suggestively in front of her bare breasts.

She whimpered as Gretchen noosed the base of each breast. She squealed as Gretchen snugged each noose brutally tight and pressed another button on the remote. The powerful motor purred smoothly and the nooses pulled upwards.

Her tits were cinched even tighter as she was slowly, relentlessly pulled upwards by her tightly stretched breasts. The heels of her shiny black high heels left the floor and Gretchen stopped the motor.

The insolent reporter's big brown eyes bulged as she pranced like a ballerina on the very tips of her toes trying to get up as high as she could to ease the relentless pressure on her burning chest. It felt like her obscenely bulging breasts were tearing inside, slowly ripping away from her sweating torso. Her tits turned an ever-deepening shade of purple. Her nipples grew obscenely huge as her tightly squeezed breasts ballooned.

Gretchen waited for her to stretch in a bit. The pink-faced reporter was sobbing continuously. A stream of snot dribbled stickily from her nostrils and disappeared into her gaping mouth. When it looked like her heels were about to touch the ground again, Gretchen cranked her up a notch.

Gretchen squatted down and felt the insolent reporter's calves through the expensive clinging fabric of her slacks, trembling as they strained to lift her as high as possible and ease the tearing pain in her breasts, which bulged like they were about to burst. Gretchen ran her hand appreciatively up the woman's tight thighs.

"You have good legs. You shouldn't cover them up."

Gretchen grinned into the woman's pleading, pain-filled eyes.

"Perhaps I'll give you a chance to remove your urine soaked slacks and panties so that you can spread your kegs and show everyone the goodies."

The insolent reporter winced as Gretchen patted her burning bum, still feeling the heat of her recent spanking through the seat of her slacks. Gretchen had some helpful advice.

"You shouldn't scrunch up your face like that. You'll give yourself wrinkles."

Gretchen sniggered.

"On the other hand, I guess a few wrinkles won't matter much. Once your tits finish stretching and tearing internally, they'll hang down to your waist like two empty flour sacks."

It would take a while for lesson number four to be fully learned. The insolent reporter groaned as Gretchen squeezed her aching ass globes and let her know a bit of her future so she could think about it while her ballooning tits stretched, turned purple and tore agonizingly.

"Lesson number five involves removing your teeth. That makes your face fall in like an old woman's."

As the insolent reporter's face crumpled in utter despair, Gretchen studied her text messaging cell phone, which had vibrated quietly, summoning her elsewhere.

"Well, I've got to go. You concentrate on learning lesson number four and think about how you'll handle lesson number five. Some life lessons can't be repeated so you have to get everything out of them the first time."

Gretchen looked concerned for her snuffling, sobbing victim.

"I hope for your sake that we don't hit any air pockets or turbulence. Your tits could be ripped right off your chest."

The insolent reporter wailed forlornly as Mistress Gretchen left her alone with the security cameras, which recorded her suffering with a cold impersonal eye.

The insolent reporter felt that when it came to being stripped of all dignity and self-respect, it could get no worse than this.

She was instantly disabused of this absurdly optimistic notion.

Two of the Sheik's heavyset Nubian guards entered the room. The insolent reporter whimpered pleadingly as her pants and panties were lowered. Her bruised burning butt cheeks were parted. A thick greased penile intruder began worming its way into her bruised, aching rectum.

While she was attempting to wrap her mind around the agonising anal rape, the strap binding her slim ankles together was unbuckled. Her thighs were parted until her knees were stretching her pee-stained panties tightly between them. This exposed her genitals without allowing her the freedom required to wrap her legs around her attacker to ease the burden on her tearing breasts as she bounced up and down helplessly. The Nubian in front began a painful unlubricated vaginal rape with his massive black member.

Crushed between the two massive black brutes, her burning holes stretched agonisingly and her tits feeling like they were being blowtorched from her chest, the insolent reporter began to scream high and hard. The ass-raping Nubian grinned.

"I can hardly wait to see what The Surgeon does to her."

The cunt-raping Nubian nodded amiably.

"Yeah, after he gets done operating, even her own mother won't recognise her."

As her vocal cords tore, the shrieking insolent reporter was forced to the realisation that, when it came to being stripped of dignity and self-respect, she still had a long downhill journey remaining.

Sheik Rashid's Vengeance

Chapter 20 - Bondage Babes

Mistress Gretchen in her dual role of nude photographer/meat keeper was happy to be introduced to young Kyla.

"Hi! I'm Gretchen! I guess our job is to make sure that the Sheik gets his money's worth of nude, sexually sophisticated pictures. He's paying you a lot, so he expects a lot from you!"

Gretchen pretended to wipe sweat from her brow.

"Whew! No pressure there!"

Kyla nodded uneasily. It was a huge sum in diamonds, but the smug teenage beauty queen was certain that she was worth every carat. Gretchen worked to get true commitment from the na?ve young beauty.

"It's not too late to back out. The Sheik demands sophisticated and very explicit sexuality from his women. He's looking for a lot more than is involved in putting out for the captain of the high school football team in the back seat of a Chevy."

Disconcerted, Kyla laughed uncertainly. Mistaking the source of this information, she wondered how much her mother had blabbed about her.

"I see a certain someone's told you about Buck. As I told him to his face, guys like him are just practise. I can do a lot more."

She did her best to look sophisticated and knowing.

"Um, every man's a bit different. What sort of things does the Sheik like?"

Since Kyla seemed to be hooked, Gretchen began to reel in her fish.

"The standard things: the trampy schoolgirl, the naughty nurse, the 'respectable' businesswoman, leather bitch with boots and whip, the damsel-in-distress¡ that sort of thing. I can guide you through it. I just want to be sure you are willing to do what it takes."

Kyla nodded decisively.

"I can do all that. No problem."

Gretchen looked at her earnestly.

"We're talking adult sexuality, Kyla, so you do understand that there will be penetration with dildoes and butt plugs, playing with sex toys, that kind of thing. I mean everything will be warm and lubricated, so it won't be uncomfortable. I just want to make sure that you know what you're getting into and can handle it."

Kyla nodded decisively and a bit impatiently. She was tired of being treated like an ignorant teenager.

"I can handle it. Trust me. I've been penetrated before! Lots of times!"

They laughed together. Gretchen apologized.

"Sorry, but I had to be sure that you were sexually mature. Not everybody is."

Kyla was glad to finally be taken seriously as an adult. Gretchen pushed a few folders full of photographs towards Kyla. They were labelled Rude Schoolgirl, Naughty Nurse, Bondage Babes, Damsels in Distress and so on.

"Would you like to see some samples of my work?"

Gretchen was interested to see Kyla go straight for the folder labelled 'whippings'. She picked it up and began to thumb through it. Gretchen gave her some background information.

"In many Muslim countries an unfaithful wife is publicly stoned to death. Sheik Rashid is merciful. He has them whipped in private and quietly returned to their husbands. I have taken some pictures of these 'private' whippings. There is a small audience of officials to ensure justice is done, but it's nothing like the roadside whippings and public executions you see elsewhere."

"How disappointing!"

Gretchen winked slyly, one naughty girl to another.

"Of course the rules are completely different for those running the country. The Sheik and his buddies can do anything with impunity, which is why there is alcohol on the airplane here, and we females aren't exactly covered from head to toe. In some Muslim countries women are fined and publicly whipped for uncovering their ankles or talking to someone who is not their relative! In places like that, they can have their fingers and toes chopped off for painting their nails!"

Kyla's eyes opened wide as she studied the photos. Gretchen provided a helpful commentary.

"There is, however, a certain traditional brutal justice that his people expect. An unfaithful wife is treated with comparative generosity and understanding by Sheik Rashid. Of course, being stripped naked in front of a largely male audience can be a bit stressful! Being hung by her wrists with her legs spread wide and then whipped everywhere from the soles of her feet to her armpits ending with five lashes between the legs is a powerfully educational experience - a real encouragement to marital fidelity!"

Self-centred Kyla gave a dirty snigger, hardly the most sympathetic of females.

"Don't tell mom about this. She's hardly been Little Miss Faithful over the years."

Gretchen looked over Kyla's shoulder at a picture of a dark haired beauty captured mid-scream while the whip cracked cruelly between her widespread legs.

"That woman kept saying that she hadn't cheated. She claimed that her husband had complained about her merely to get her whipped so that she would show him more respect!"

Kyla rolled her eyes and guffawed.

"It looks like complaining didn't get that stupid woman anywhere!"

Gretchen laughed.

"All it did was earn her some extra strokes. Can you guess where the extra strokes were applied?"

Kyla gave a dirty little snigger.

"Between the legs?"

Gretchen gave her a thumbs-up.

"Bingo!"

Kyla snickered.

"I hope she learned her lesson and made her husband a happy man."

Gretchen smiled.

"He probably whispered in her ear that he'd have her whipped again if she didn't, suggesting that maybe they wouldn't be so merciful with a second time offender."

Kyla giggled.

"You're probably right. Remind me not to get married in an Arab country. Imagine having to be a hidden away, good little wife all the time! No fun in that!"

Gretchen gave her a knowing look.

"There's another factor that comes into play in an Arab country."

"What's that?"

"Multiple wives."

Kyla thought about it and then sniggered as the light dawned.

"So maybe he was making an example of one so the rest would fall into line! I mean it makes sense. A whipping like that probably leaves permanent marks. Why ruin the prime pussy?"

Gretchen looked at her significantly.

"Maybe he just married her so he could make an example of her - his 'whipping girl'."

Kyla laughed.

"Wow! What a dumb cunt! Talk of playing her for a complete fool!"

Kyla picked up the folder labelled 'Spankings' and opened it. The first picture was a close-up of the insolent reporter's face as she arched upwards, straining violently against the heavy leather straps of the spanking table, face contorted, screaming into the ring gag that her lipsticked lips were wrapped around. Kyla admired the way her eyes bulged and her nostrils flared.

"I really like the way that you capture the drops of sweat trickling down her flushed face and the drool dribbling down her chin. That's excellent!"

Gretchen laughed.

"She's quite the little actress, isn't she?"

Gretchen laid the bullshit on thick for her enthralled listener.

"She's a TV personality fallen on hard times so she accepts these play paddlings for the Sheik's amusement. She makes it look quite strenuous but there's no long-term damage at all. This TV hussy is utterly shameless when it comes to putting on a winning performance. I think that there's a picture of her actually peeing in her panties later on."

Kyla found the picture near the end of the folder and giggled.

"You know, it seems to me that maybe I've seen her on the news as a 'hard-hitting' reporter."

"It looks like the 'hard-hitting' reporter is being hit hard¡ well, pretending to get hit hard."

Kyla suddenly recognised the contorted, agonised face in the pictures. She laughed in delight.

"She's quite the hypocrite. I remember now. She was doing this whole series of specials on Arab abuses of power and subjection of women. Now she's posing as the Sheik's personal beat-me bitch!"

Gretchen was openly contemptuous.

"It's all about ratings. These well-paid TV people will say and do anything to get ratings and make the big bucks. Surprise! It turns out that ratings aren't everything. She lost her job because her anti-Arab stance didn't please the people who owned her network although it was big with the viewers. Guess who the people who owned her network were?"

Kyla laughed and made the obvious guess.

"Rich Arabs?"

"Bingo! Apparently it never occurred to the dumb bunny to check. She just went for the crowd-pleasing obvious thing. Arabs like diversifying, investing in stuff other than oil. They're not stupid. They know that the oil is not going to last forever."

Kyla shuffled through the glossy photos of the brutal paddling.

"Wow! These look real. Look at the way her bare bum gets a darker and darker red, almost purple, as the spanking progresses. Is that snot dribbling from her nose?"

Gretchen laughed.

"Yes. She's quite the dedicated performer, doing whatever is necessary to make it look real and earn her keep. These TV people are utterly shameless and totally amoral. I wonder how many people she fucked to get her cushy TV job in the first place?"

Kyla smirked.

"I suppose they put some rouge or something on the paddle so that it makes her bum redder and redder with every dainty little feather light stroke."

Gretchen patted her on the back.

"Good guess, but you see what I mean when I say that the Sheik usually prefers older, more sexually sophisticated females. This is the sort of utterly depraved, very realistic performance that he really likes. Do you think that you can do as well?"

Kyla smirked confidently.

"If he likes really hardcore action, do you think I could start off as a leather bitch? I rather fancy myself with spike heeled boots and a whip."

Gretchen nodded.

"The Sheik hires actual painsluts, real live beat-me bitches, women who find pain to be erotic. Maybe you'd like to make one of them scream in a dungeon sequence while the video cameras roll?"

Kyla had only heard of such things. It sounded very adult. She attempted to look totally cool.

"Masochists. I could do that if you tell me how they like to be tortured. As you say, it's a little different from doing Buck in his Chevy."

Gretchen was reassuring.

"Don't worry! I'll have them thinking that you studied with the Gestapo!"

Kyla sniggered.

"Sounds like fun, at least, fun for me!"

Gretchen was reassuring.

"It's fun for the painsluts too. Don't be fooled. They're real little drama queens and love being the centre of attention no matter how hard they scream and holler! I know it sounds strange but they really get off on it!"

Kyla nodded knowledgeably.

"I've heard about stuff like that. I guess it takes all kinds to make a world."

Ilsa favoured Kyla with a Cheshire grin.

"It gets even better. The first pain pig that I supply you to work on will be someone you know."

Kyla was amazed and delighted when she found out who it was.

In another room on the plane, Laura sauntered into the Sheik's presence using her runway model's walk, the 'crossover', one shapely leg crossing over in front of the other. Boobs bouncing and hips pumping, her long sexy legs strode towards the Sheik with brazen impudence. She had on her most seductive smirky-bitch expression and stared intently at the Sheik with smoky eyes as she approached him.

"Laura! You are indeed a vision."

Laura whirled professionally, showing off the revealing leather strap outfit from all angles. She paused dramatically right in front of him. The Sheik gave her bare buns a proprietary squeeze. Laura smiled radiantly and arched her back so that her tits pressed hard against the sole leather strap restraining them.

"Ilsa tells me that you are interested in being my bitch for a month."

He saw her eyes flicker momentarily at the word 'bitch', but was gratified to see her accept it. Money talks most eloquently to those desperate for it. Looking straight into his eyes, lovely Laura slowly, sexily ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. She spoke huskily.

"That's right. I want to be your 'bitch' for a month, to fulfil your wildest desires."

He slipped one hand between her legs from behind, cupping her upper thigh where it met her crotch and fondled her titmeat with the other. Laura looked deep into his eyes, seeming totally enchanted with being handled like a whore. Rashid spelled out the terms of her employment.

"You will be my sex slave for the month and as my personal piece of fuckmeat, you will find that I am a most demanding master. As I put you through your paces, you won't be seeing much of Kyla or Cheryl. I'll arrange for them to take wonderfully educational trips together while you spend the month stripped naked, showing my friends and me the goodies. You'll be spreading your legs, opening your holes, giving blowjobs, participating in obscene utterly depraved sexual performances, being handled like a piece of meat and doing what you're told. I'm a wealthy, arrogant man. I'm used to getting my way. I'm accustomed to commanding the very best. I have a lot of experience in squeezing obscenely intimate performances from beautiful women. Do you have a problem with any of this?"

This was a lot different than she had imagined. Laura was used to being in the driver's seat, making men leap to please her. However, the money was very good and she needed it badly. Her plummeting self-esteem made her ripe for the plucking. Laura had a strong feeling that her looks were fading and her time in the driver's seat was perhaps coming to an end. Being dumped had shaken her badly. Up to that point in time, she had always been the one doing the dumping, callously leaving heartbroken horndogs behind her. If she could handle this job with the Sheik and tough it out, she and her daughters would be set up for life.

Suddenly, Laura wanted to make as many good scores as quickly as possible. Maybe one big score would do it. She realized that she had been stupid to think that she could command a man coming from such a background of wealth and power. Laura had just one small concern.

"How many men do you want me to fuck? I thought it would be only you."

Rashid was reassuring.

"You're right. I don't like sharing. As far as actual fucking goes, you only screw me. However, flaunting your obscenely intimate performances in front of others has its appeal. Do you mind putting on lots of lewd, rude and crude look-but-don't-touch sexual performances while others watch?"

As intended, this sounded like it was right up her cockteasing alley. Making up her mind, Laura smirked.

"Not at all. I can handle it."

The Sheik liked making things clear.

"There is discipline for slaves. You will be spanked."

Laura smiled confidently. Spanking was for children. She had a little variant on Kyla's philosophy.

"You do what you must to get what you want. I want the money. I can handle a spanking."

Rashid was pleased.

"Good! If you put in satisfactory performances, your contract can be renewed and you won't have to worry about money for a long, long time. For the right sort of eager-to-please sex slave there are big financial bonuses."

While her mother was bracing herself for some tough hardcore action, young Kyla was preparing to dive in the deep end.

"I'm glad that this 'pain pig' that I'll be torturing is someone I know! It makes it so much easier because I really want to make that stuck-up cunt scream and whimper!"

Gretchen was warmly supportive.

"Perhaps she behaves as she does to invite abuse."

Kyla snorted.

"There must be a lot of masochists out there if you can spot them by their loser behaviour!"

This was something that Gretchen really believed.

"Truer words were never spoken. From rock concerts with music amplified well beyond the threshold of pain to 'Reality Television', our whole society is geared to exploiting the millions and millions, perhaps billions, of masochistic losers. How many people go to Vegas where they're practically guaranteed to lose? The odds are so bad on some games there that, if you win bigtime, they know that you're cheating! They throw people who pursue winning strategies like card counting out of the casinos. Society's been banking on masochistic losers for a long time. How many people bought those stupid 'pet rocks' back in the 70s or think that lip-syncing Britney is a great singer? 'Hit Me Baby, One More Time!' What could be more blatant?"

They laughed together.

As she dressed for her video debut as a leather bitch, Kyla mentally reviewed Gretchen's helpful hints on making the 'pain pig' scream high and hard. Like her mom, Kyla stripped easily, perfectly comfortable with showing everyone what she had to offer. Proud of her glorious physique, she pranced saucily, bouncing her big bare boobs and pumping her hips lewdly. Gretchen was enthralled.

"You have a superb figure, Kyla! A perfect subject for a photographer."

Kyla parked her naked posterior on the chair, pointed her pretty little toes sexily and, using both hands, pulled on one of the thigh high, spike-heeled, black leather boots.

"I've heard about safe words. What are her safe words to get me to stop? Does she say something like 'red light'? I'm dying to know!"

Gretchen grinned.

"Safe words are for babies. She's a serious 'pain pig'. This is 'no limits' adult play, Kyla. If she can make you stop, then she's really the one in charge. That's not the way it is. You are totally in charge. She will be gagged and bound helplessly for your pleasure. There's no way she can stop whatever you choose to do to her. It's life on the edge for the 'pain pig'. She loves it that way."

Kyla's eyes gleamed.

"Excellent!"

Kyla pointed her perfect little toes and tugged hard to pull on the second boot. Gretchen whispered in Kyla's attentive ear a lewd suggestion on how she should end her session with the pain pig. Kyla stared incredulously.

"That's totally disgusting! You actually have a piece of equipment like that?"

Gretchen dramatically pulled back a cloth covering it.

"Voila!"

Kyla's eyes hardened to a bright shine as she picked it up and inspected it carefully.

"Amazing! I'll use it! That fucking bitch will never expect something like this! She'll never see it coming."

Gretchen poked her playfully in the ribs.

"Although she may see you cumming!"

Kyla laughed and licked her lips eagerly.

"I'm going to love this!"

She wrapped the black leather corset around her waist and positioned it so the top part was pushing up her breasts, not that her luscious melons needed any support. Gretchen laced it up the back snugly as she gave Kyla a few more helpful torture tips.

Kyla grinned. She pulled on fingerless black leather driving gloves and spoke confidently.

"I'm going to make that slut squeal like a scalded pig."

Sheik Rashid's Vengeance

Chapter 21 - Laura and Kyla Perform

Cheryl could barely believe that her mom was a scum-sucking whore, but the irrefutable evidence was in front of her eyes.

Sheik Rashid didn't like long blah-blah-blah conversations with his fucksluts. Instead of yakking tediously with them, his code of imperious fingersnaps commanded them like fucking animals. Ilsa explained his fingersnap code to Laura as she removed Laura's leather strap outfit. She put Laura through it a few times until Laura was performing like an old pro.

Then she turned Laura over to the Sheik.

Strapped naked in a chair, daughter Cheryl's pretty head was gripped between two large padded clamps. Her eyelids were propped wide open by small rounded hooks hooked underneath them attached to a small stretching frame. Daughter Cheryl had no choice but to stare at the screen with drying, aching eyeballs. The TV monitor in front of her was connected via an encrypted satellite link to the Sheik's jet over the Atlantic. She watched in burning shame and utter horror as Sheik Rashid commanded her nude mother like a circus animal.

Earlier, she had watched on the hidden cameras while her mother, under no coercion whatever, had dressed herself in a shamefully slutty leather strap outfit, flirted playfully with the perverted monster and volunteered to service him as his personal high paid whore. Hearing her mom ask coolly about how many guys she had to fuck had shocked Cheryl to the core. She had watched incredulously while her mom eagerly learned the fingersnap code, practising it with Ilsa until she could assume each denigrating posture perfectly on command.

Cheryl's eyes were bright with tears as she watched her lovely and once respected mom humiliate herself for money.

Rashid snapped once (= on your knees, bitch).

Stark naked except for black strap-on fuck-me pumps and a studded leather slave collar, Laura immediately dropped to her knees. Laura knelt, head up straight, eyes cast down submissively. She spread her legs wide, exposing her genitals shamelessly. She clasped her hands together behind her back, pulled in her elbows and arched her back, so that her big bare breasts were thrust brazenly forward. She held that pose while the Sheik walked around her slowly, inspecting her flawless physique from all angles.

Rashid snapped twice (= lean back and show everyone your tits).

Laura immediately leaned back and placed her hands face down on floor, shamelessly presenting her big bare breasts with the nipples still a bit raw and swollen from the nipple clamps. Her smoothly muscled tummy flexed delightfully as she spread her lovely legs wide to fully expose her smooth bare slit.

Rashid snapped three times (= get on all fours like a fucking dog).

Laura leant forward, her head up. She kept her eyes submissively down. She placed her hands flat on the floor in front of her, exposing her naked back and glorious ass, legs parted to make her tight snapping pussy available for fondling or fucking or any penetration her Master desired.

Two fast snaps (= ready your mouth for use, whore).

Laura obediently opened her mouth wide, keeping her lips round and covering her teeth, ready to encircle a cock, a ball gag or whatever Rashid desired to ram into it.

Very few children like to see their parents fuck or, in this case, get fucked, much less watch them eagerly prostitute themselves to depraved perverts. Deeply traumatized, Cheryl could hardly bear to watch as Cheryl's hated captor fed lovely Laura his dick and her mom deep-throated him with the well-practiced ease of a professional mouth whore. It was obvious to Cheryl that her mom had performed this obscene act this many times before. It was a trick that had taken Cheryl an eyeball popping long time to learn, studying reluctantly at the hands (and dick) of Wartface, brutal lessons punctuated with much gagging, hard face slaps and copious tears.

Her mom the goddam whore did it effortlessly. Cheryl knew that someone had to have broken her in. Cheryl didn't even begin to suspect that it had been her dear ole horndog dad. He hadn't been the most faithful of Laura's ex-husbands, but he was the first and certainly the most sexually knowledgeable, turning lovely Laura into prime fuckmeat. There is a carnal aura to a woman who has been fucked frequently; a hot-holed bed beast whose every orifice has lots of frequent flyer miles. When hard humping husband number one was finished with her, Laura definitely radiated sexuality. Men were always hitting on her after that.

Cheryl watched as Rashid grabbed Laura's pretty head and pumped in and out, face-fucking her mom. He rammed his dick as far into her open throat as possible, his smoothly shaven scrotum banging against Laura's chin with each full penetration. Her mom moaned ecstatically with each thrust although it was hard for Cheryl to conceive what possible enjoyment she could derive from this.

At the last instant before orgasm, Rashid withdrew. He came insolently in her mom's face, spurting thick strings of sticky semen over Laura's heartbreakingly beautiful high-cheekboned features and into her golden hair.

Laura made a move to wipe it off and Rashid instantly raised a warning finger. She allowed her arm to drop back to her side. He snapped once and Laura resumed the first position, kneeling, shapely legs spread, exposing herself, her slim hands clasped together behind her back, his cum dripping down her lovely face onto her perfect tits.

If this was how her mom made her money, Cheryl didn't think that it could get any worse. She was, of course, being foolishly optimistic. Her brazen, utterly shameless mom could, and would, stoop a lot lower, but first an even more appalling abomination was to be revealed to her reeling mind.

Another television monitor flickered to life next to the first and a deeply horrified, profoundly shocked Cheryl watched her baby sister eagerly preparing to help Mistress Gretchen by torturing someone that she obviously knew. Even worse, it was very apparent that young Kyla was aware of the cameras and was flirting and posing shamelessly for them.

She watched as Kyla winked cheerfully at Mistress Gretchen. Kyla's naked nipples brushed lightly against the front of Gretchen's black leather pantsuit as Mistress Gretchen kissed Kyla on both cheeks and wished her well. Kyla thought this was very European, quite cosmopolitan. She turned, grinning wickedly, towards her helplessly bound pain pig.

Kyla put on a policeman's hat and sauntered up to her victim. Gretchen's video camera captured her bare tits and naked buttocks as she moved in on her pet pain pig with the feline grace of a jungle cat moving in for the kill. Kyla grinned ferally and adjusted the visor of her hat. Her beautiful features hardened. She stared coldly into her horrified prey's frantic eyes.

"You're my bitch now and I'm going to make you scream high and hard."

It seemed to a shell-shocked Cheryl that her whore mother had turned her baby sister into an utterly depraved sexual monster. She felt burning guilt for bringing her family to the Sheik's attention and an even deeper shame that she could be related to two such perverted, sleazy sluts.

Kyla's victim was spread-eagled in mid-air, her wrists and ankles tethered to the rim of a large steel circle that moved on a pivot between two pillars. Kyla could spin her victim upside down or right side up by spinning the steel circle. Pulling on a lever by one of the pillars locked it in position. Pushing the lever released the brake and the steel circle could then be spun to any new position desired.

A huge red ball gag stretched Candance's mouth achingly wide, which meant that she could only stare at Kyla in whimpering terror. The school secretary's high-paying summer job as an attendant on a non-existent airline lasted no longer than it took Sheik Rashid's private jet to take off. After that, the Sheik's Nubian guards had shown up and sparked their electric prods in front of her face. They quickly persuaded a terrified Candance of the dubious proposition that it was in her best interests to be spread-eagled on a torture wheel. Never a brave girl, she had capitulated completely as they fitted her wrists and ankles with leather cuffs, lifted her up, bound her to the wheel, forced the bright red ball gag between her lips and buckled it in place behind her head. They wheeled out a table of torture implements for her to look at and think about while she awaited her fate.

The table of implements was placed conveniently for Kyla's use. A cloth covered the last implement that would be used so that it would come as a complete surprise for both the victim and perverted viewers of the video.

Kyla picked up a box of matches. She dramatically held the box an inch from Candance's desperate face, pulled out a match and struck it. It flared to life, its flame reflecting in her victim's wide-open eyes. Kyla lit a large candle on the table of implements. It took a bit longer to light than a normal candle and burned much brighter with a bigger-than-normal flame.

"This is a very special candle, Candy. I'll tell you all about it later, but if you like being hurt, rest assured that it will do a superb job, much better than the average candle. In the meantime, let's let it burn a bit. That's part of the process. I'll explain that in a bit too. In the meantime, what have I told you about that defective fashion sense of yours?"

The school secretary was wearing a Goth outfit: a black spaghetti strap top with a knee-length black dress, shiny black patent leather high-heeled boots and black fishnet stockings held up by a garter belt. A choker of stainless steel rings joined by short black leather straps encircled her pale white throat. It was her sexy outfit for partying at the clubs.

Kyla spoke in a taunting syrupy voice, dripping venom.

"Don't you think that you're a bit over-dressed for the occasion, Goth-girl? I mean I'm standing here with my bare tits hanging out! Gretchen is busy getting a lot of crotch shots of my naked cunt between my obligingly spread legs. Here you are all covered up. What's the matter? Don't you think that you can compete?"

There was a sound like a pistol shot as Kyla slapped her hard. Candance's head snapped sideways. Her shoulder length brunette hair flew and her cheek flamed a bright red. It stung and she had a low threshold of pain. Her green eyes glistened with tears.

"Hey, short stuff, look up and stare me in the tits when I talk to you."

Statuesque Kyla pinched each of Candance's nipples hard through her black top and lifted energetically. Since Candance was tied firmly in place only her breasts stretched painfully upwards. As a consequence, her mashed nipples burned and her stretched tits ached. Candance squealed like a scared little piggy, her tear-stained face flaming.

"What's the matter, pain pig? Don't you like playing purple nurple?"

Candance shook her head. Candance squealed and moaned frantically into the gag. She looked desperately eager to communicate something.

"The next thing you're going to try to tell me is that you're not a painslut!"

Candance nodded enthusiastic agreement, her green eyes bright with hope.

"What a dirty little liar you are!"

Candance looked at her pleadingly and whimpered pathetically like a sad little puppy. Kyla relented playfully.

"OK, if you never lie, tell me: did Charlene get you to change my schedule?"

Snuffling, her up-stretched tits on fire, hoping that the truth would set her free, Candance slowly nodded yes.

Kyla's eyes hardened and Candance, too late, realized her mistake.

If you are guilty, the truth never sets you free.

"I knew it!"

Giving Candance's tightly pinched nipples a last savage twist, Kyla released them and picked up a pair of scissors from her implement table. Oddly shaped, they were bent at an angle, had a rounded tip instead of a pointed one and had a flat metal disk on the bottom of the lower blade.

"Like the candle, these are very special scissors. They're called crash scissors. They're specially designed to smoothly cut the clothing from a victim. The blade is razor sharp high quality steel. The flat metal disk fastened to the bottom blade is to let it glide over your flesh as I slice away your clothes. The rounded end prevents any unintended puncturing of your skin. The handles are angled for my convenience, to prevent my hand from banging into you when I cut."

With the scissors shut, she ran the cool blade over Candance's hot flaming face. Candance flinched back as Kyla suddenly snipped the air violently, the razor sharp blades snapping viciously a fraction of an inch from Candance's nose.

"Just because they're designed to be 'safe' doesn't mean that I couldn't use them to snip off the tip of your nose to make you look like a pig or to clip off your ears to turn you into a hideous freak."

Kyla laughed in her horrified face.

"Before we get down to making you scream, my little pain piglet, I'm going to snip off your clothes. That way everyone can see which of us is prime pussy and who's coming in a poor second. It also gives me complete access to the most sensitive, private portions of your anatomy, which will be a huge help in making you scream. Of course, bound helplessly, with your legs spread and your cunt hanging out, you're rape meat as well. Several over-endowed perverts are waiting in the wings to open you up in every way possible, raping over whatever is left of you when I'm finished this intimate little exercise in agony."

She snipped the crash scissors with malicious glee.

"Let's get you stripped for action and see what you have to offer."

Kyla snipped her spaghetti straps and opened the scissors wide. She inserted the bottom blade down Candance's cleavage and paused dramatically. Candance felt the cool metal pressing against the bare skin of her panting chest.

"We'll start with exposing your tits. First question: are they real or is it a padded bra?"

Kyla began to snip and rip.

In another room, it was time for lovely Laura to continue work earning a big shiny diamond. Snuffling hysterically, barely able to see through her tears, daughter Cheryl watched as her mother the whore stooped to unspeakable depravity.

Sheik Rashid pointed at a bucket on the floor and gave three fast snaps (= fucksquat).

Laura immediately assumed the fucksquat position. She squatted down like she was about to squeeze a turd into the bucket, knees spread wide to expose her smooth shaven fuckhole and wrinkled brown shithole, back arched, big bare breasts up and out, head straight, her hands clasped together behind her back and eyes cast down submissively, not worthy to look upon Sheik Rashid, her new Lord and Master.

She winced as he reached between her parted thighs and flicked the front of her slit with his fingers, indicating what he wanted in the bucket. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers contemptuously an inch from her face.

Urine spurted from between her shapely legs and Laura, pink faced, peed like a dog. Her urine spattered with a humiliatingly loud noise into the empty metal bucket. Rashid snapped his fingers arrogantly in her flushed face again and, with a visible effort, she clamped down and shut off the flow of urine.

Off, on, off, on¡ with every insolent, commanding snap of his fingers in her beautiful face, Laura either obediently peed or stopped peeing until her bladder was drained.

Even the method of paying his new whore was an exercise in degradation.

Rashid snapped his fingers four times (= bend over and spread your legs, slut), paused a beat and then gave two more snaps (1 following snap = show the pink, 2 following snaps = show the brown).

Laura stood. She spread her legs wide, bent over and reached behind her. Cupping her buns in her long slim fingers, she pulled her smooth, rounded butt cheeks apart, fully exposing the wrinkled brown rosette of her anus.

The Sheik picked up what looked like a slim pool cue. He selected a large, brilliantly flashing diamond from a small, but dazzling mound of large diamonds and held it on front of Laura's pink face.

"Nice big diamond isn't it, whore?"

Laura nodded. As Rashid's fuckslut, she was allowed to speak in response to a direct question or when given permission, which she understood would be rare.

"Yes, sir!"

He fitted the diamond into a hollow at the tip of the cue. A servant stepped forward, greased up the diamond and the pool cue with Vaseline and stepped back.

Laura drew in her breath sharply, bracing herself. Her bare boobs quivered as Rashid slipped the greased cue up her ass. He buried the diamond deep in her shit chute and smoothly removed the cue. Her dangling breasts shook as Laura sucked in a huge calming breath. Rashid handed the shit-streaked cue to a servant to be cleaned.

He snapped his fingers once.

Laura dropped submissively to her knees - head up, eyes humbly down, legs spread, hands behind her back. Rashid gave the naked tits of his panting, pink-faced whore a friendly squeeze.

"Very good! Go, shower off and put on that black leather miniskirt outfit. Understand, slut?"

"Yes, sir!"

The Sheik left the room. Laura scurried gratefully to her change room.

Cheryl watched in horrified revulsion at the image revealed by the hidden fibre optic camera. Before her very eyes, her mother the sleazy whore laid out a pattern of toilet paper on the bathroom floor, squatted down over it and squeezed out a long turd.

It was here that life experience marked them apart. The mother of two was much more comfortable sorting through shit than either of her daughters were. A hands-on mother, Laura had changed lots of ripe, steaming diapers and wiped filthy feculent baby bums many times, in addition to mopping up an ocean of pee. To Laura, finding a diamond in a neatly squeezed out turd was distasteful but easily accomplished.

Cheryl, on the other hand, was absolutely disgusted as she watched her lowlife gutterslut mother snuffling through her own shit and picking out the diamond with her long fingernails. Laura took the diamond to the sink, washed it carefully with a bit of liquid soap and placed it on the counter. She knelt down, wrapped up the turd with the surrounding toilet paper and flushed it away. Laura wiped her bum and washed her hands thoroughly, brushing carefully under her fingernails with a fingernail brush. She daintily squirted a bit of deodorant/disinfectant around the bathroom to freshen things up.

Pulling a jeweller's loupe from her purse, Laura inspected the large diamond with evident satisfaction. She saved the diamond carefully in a small leather bag that she had purchased for that express purpose and put it in her purse.

Laura paused, took several deep breaths and steeled her soul, telling herself, as mothers will, that she was doing it for the children. They were all on easy street as long as she could tough it out. If this was as bad as it got, she could handle it, just barely.

Even when down on her luck, a hitherto spoiled and pampered princess never believes until much too late that really bad things can happen to her. Before the end of the day, lovely Laura would be a deeply traumatised beauty, broken completely, her soul shattered, changed forever.

Laura stepped into the shower, turned on the water as hot as she could stand it and spent a long time in the steam scrubbing herself squeaky clean.

She felt very dirty indeed.

Chapter 22 - Squealing Pain Pigs

Prancing on the very tips of her toes, the insolent reporter was still hanging from her tits as she was flown to the Middle East on Sheik Rashid's jumbo jet, being ground pitilessly by crack teams of ingenious perverts every inch of the way. Noosed at the base, each up-stretched purple breast bulged obscenely, her monstrously inflated nipples engorged with blood. As a media star, the Sheik's staff had shown a lot of interest in her during the flight, but she was just hanging around between rapes at the moment. Her holes burned between her legs. After each rape, her pants had been pulled up neatly so that the next rapist could have the pleasure of jerking them down again and listening to her scream. The crotch of both her once-white underwear and her once-beige slacks was stiff with drying semen and reeked of her urine as she had peed her panties repeatedly. Her tautly stretched, straining mammaries felt like they were going to burst agonisingly while simultaneously being slowly ripped from her sweating torso.

She whimpered in fear and horror as the Dentist entered the room and began calmly, deliberately setting up his implements. Seeing the stainless steel tray of gleaming needles, stainless steel pins, clamps, pliers, hypodermic syringes, sharp metal picks and probes, small round mirrors and cotton swabs chilled her to the bone. His high-speed dental drill on its articulating arm screeched piercingly as he plugged it in and gave it a few trial revs. The high-pitched squeal ate into her mind like a rabid weasel biting dementedly. Twisting frantically, the insolent reporter wet her already sodden panties yet again.

She squawked energetically as he cranked her up so that her pretty toes left the floor to get her holes up to a convenient height for easy access. In what was becoming a painfully familiar prelude to sexual degradation for the hapless rape victim, he tugged her pants and panties down to her knees. She screeched hoarsely and her breasts burned in white hot flashes of searing agony with each downwards jerk. Having bared her bum, he parted her badly bruised buttocks. She gasped as he penetrated her anus for yet another in a series of humiliating rectal rapes.

A fat man with a pockmarked face and atrocious breath, the Dentist had a history of being spurned scornfully by any ladies who had a choice in the matter. He whispered contemptuous misogyny into her coral pink ear as he began to pump his thick, heavily veined penis in and out of the insolent reporter's tightly stretched asshole.

"Women! You're all such filthy little liars."

A lady who had no choice in the matter, the insolent reporter's only response was to whimper softly with each rectal reaming thrust.

"The foolish women told you that I'd be yanking out all of your teeth now. That's definitely not happening."

The insolent reporter was relieved. All this dental equipment must be there just to mess with her mind. It was beginning to sound to her like all she'd get from the so-called Dentist was an ass-rape. In her present degraded state, this was good news.

It was also the ultimate in foolish, but easily understandable, female optimism. After all, a woman who is being subjected to simultaneous mental, physical and sexual abuse has the IQ of a newt.

"I asked Gretchen: 'why would I yank out her teeth when, with a small bit of drilling, I can expose the sensitive nerves inside her teeth and really make her scream?'"

The insolent reporter felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest and stomped on with cleats.

The smell of burning bone joined the stink of sweat, urine, sex and atrociously bad breath as the Dentist revved his drill enthusiastically and began to grind his way into a molar inside her propped open mouth. The insolent reporter squealed frantically, her rectum clenching tightly around his pulsing penis as he ground away patiently, taking his time, a man who loved his work.

Back with Kyla, Candance's 36C bra fluttered to the floor, joining the snipped up remains of her black Goth dress. Kyla laid the crash scissors on the implement table next to the sheet covering a mysterious large implement.

A camera zoomed in, pausing briefly on Candance's deeply embarrassed face, blushing furiously, before focussing on her bare breasts, quivering delectably. After the bra had been snipped off, everyone had been delighted to find that Candance didn't need padding. Despite statuesque Kyla's disparaging comments, on a shorter woman, 36C is just fine.

Insolently, Kyla brushed her naked nipples against Candance's, aggressively inviting a tit-to-tit comparison between her big-nippled monster melons and Candance's more modest, though quite pleasantly proportioned, endowment.

Kyla picked up the candle carefully.

"This candle is made of a mixture of beeswax and carnauba. It's the hottest and brightest candle made. I had to let it burn for a while to get a nice pool of much hotter-than-normal melted wax."

Kyla grinned wickedly, toying with her victim.

"Do you see where I'm going with this, Candance?"

She held the hot, bright candle an inch from the tip of Candance's pert nose so she could feel the heat on her flushed face. From Candance's expression of sheer horror, it was apparent that she had an excellent appreciation of the possibilities. To keep her victim gibbering in terrified anticipation (anticipation heightens pain) and because she loved watching Candance's pretty face twitch with fear, Kyla explained a few of them.

"Hot wax is often dripped from a height so that it's pretty cool, almost solidified, when it hits the victim. Do you think that I'm going to drop it from up high or as close as possible?"

Since the terrifying answer was chillingly self-evident, Kyla required no response from her gagged victim. The pleading look in Candance's desperate eyes told her everything she needed to know. Kyla smirked smugly.

"You're right. It's going to be nice and close, so you really cook. The next question is: which sensitive portion of your anatomy do I boil in hot wax?"

Kyla pinched the very tip of Candance's left nipple between her sharp, lacquered fingernails. Candance squealed frantically, trailing off into a pathetic begging whimper.

"We've discussed how sadly under-endowed you are so I'm going to make those nipples swell up nice and big. Just a tiny drop of boiling hot wax per nipple should do it."

Kyla inspected Candance's breasts thoughtfully.

"Hmmmmmmm¡.."

She teasingly, suggestively flickered her big blue eyes back and forth between the hot flame and Candance's heaving breasts. When she felt sure that an increasingly panic-stricken Candance had received the message, she delivered it in plain text.

"Maybe if I toast your tits a bit first, they'll swell up. After that, I'll wax your nipples."

She slowly lowered the bright hot candle.

"The hottest part of a flame is not actually in the flame but a short distance above it."

The flush on Candance's face deepened as Kyla slowly moved the candle underneath her quivering mammaries. She screamed hoarsely into the gag as Kyla slowly waved the candle back and forth, searing each breast with the scorching heat of the bright flame. Candance writhed and quivered helplessly as her titmeat cooked and reddened.

Kyla smiled happily. She breathed deeply, savouring the aroma of commingled sweat, fear and toasting tit.

"There! I'll put a small drop of wax on each nipple."

She daintily tipped the candle above Candance's heaving torso, timing the short fall of the wax with Candance's frantic panting. A high-pitched squeal rewarded her precise efforts as a teardrop of the hot red wax fell an inch, kissing her nipple with an audible hiss.

Candance's sweating naked body shook and quivered in the torture frame as she screamed high and hard.

Kyla laughed in delight and tossed her long blond hair.

"Excellent! Let's try the other one."

Candance's squeezed her small fists tight, her fingernails gouging deep into her palms. Her entire body tightened. Her bare buttocks dimpled and clenched. She sucked in her smooth belly, holding her breath in mortal terror. Her thigh and calf muscles quivered as they strained mightily but futilely against her bonds. Candance's small biceps and slim forearms were clearly defined, the tendons standing out like whipcord. Her eyes bulged as she watched the hot wax slowly form a teardrop. It kissed her other nipple with an evil hiss that was instantly buried under Candance's demented shriek of raw pain.

She screamed till the snot ran and then she screamed some more as her sensitive nipples were ignited to incandescent agony as they cooked in the hot wax.

To help calm her down, Kyla pulled the lever unlocking the torture frame. She spun the frame so that Candance was upside down with her nose buried in Kyla's cunt. Kyla locked the frame again and, with a gloating smirk plastered all over her foxy face, focussed on giving Candance a really good smother.

Her labia were wet and fully distended as Kyla humped her hips lewdly. She excitedly scrubbed her engorged, dripping slit all over Candance's gasping snuffling face, sliming it with her cunt juice. Candance's bright red ball gag vibrated pleasantly against Kyla's clit as she struggled frantically to breathe, making the sound beloved of asphyxia fans everywhere.

"Mmmmmpppphhhh¡"

Chapter 23 - Lovely Laura Gets Spanked

While Candance was screaming her brains out and masturbating Kyla with her cunt slimed face, while the insolent reporter was savouring dental delights at the top of her lungs, in another part of the jumbo jet the two huge Nubian guards came to take Laura to the Sheik. The stone-faced, powerfully built black men scared her. Although a statuesque beauty, Laura felt like a weak-kneed pigmy as she walked between them, taking long fashion model strides to keep up. After a brief look at the brutal faces and heavy musculature of the massive Nubians, refusing the Sheik didn't really seem to be an option. Nevertheless, Laura felt that if she played along she could end up a very rich woman.

More foolish female optimism. This session was going to turn out so brutally humiliating for Laura that her horrified daughter Cheryl was being denied the video feed, although Kyla's enthusiastic efforts with Candance, taking place at the same time, were keeping Cheryl's weepy eyes fully occupied. Cheryl's naked body squirmed in the chair as she watched, eyes propped open, bound helplessly; shocked horrified and ashamed of her family.

Meanwhile, lovely Laura was taking the first steps along her own deeply disturbing voyage of discovery.

Laura, the very definition of the term 'prime pussy', was wearing strap-on fuck-me pumps, along with a black leather vest and black leather micro-miniskirt as instructed. She had been calming down since her last humiliating little exercise, coping as best she could, doing some yoga and having something sinfully delicious to eat, washed down with a few glasses of her favourite champagne to help impair her better judgement, such as it was. The servants knew her exact tastes without having to be told. Sadly, she didn't ponder the implications of this, thinking it a delightful coincidence. As a result, she knocked back a tad too much of the Dom Perignon. The bubbly went down very well, tickling her nose, giving her a warm pleasant glow and bathing her mind in a delightful haze of rosy false expectations.

A total babe who always put on a show if there was even the whiff of a man in her vicinity, bodalicious Laura wiggled her exquisite bum and jiggled her superb tits as she slinked along seductively between the two Nubian giants. Her black high heels clicked hollowly in the hallway.

Sheik Rashid was always glad to see a good-looking fuckslut reporting for duty. He smiled genially at his new pet.

"Think you can handle a spanking in return for a nice big diamond?"

Laura smirked inwardly. The immature things that turned men on never ceased to amaze her. Spanking was for babies. Supremely confident that she could handle a childish paddling, Laura was certain that her main challenge would be to avoid giggling. A consummate actress when it came to playing men, she put on a straight, deeply respectful face.

"Yes, sir!"

It was back to the fingersnap commands. Rashid suddenly gave two fast snaps an inch from her startled blue eyes.

Recovering quickly, Laura obediently opened her mouth and rounded her lips. The Sheik forced in a large red ball gag, squeezing the rubber to get it past her teeth. The rubber expanded inside her mouth, forcing it open as wide as possible. He buckled the mouth-filling gag firmly in place. With her luscious lips wrapped around the gag, any qualms and second thoughts lovely Laura might develop as things progressed would have to remain unexpressed. More than most, his women always had wearisome 'concerns' and an eagerness to renegotiate the relationship. The Sheik greatly enjoyed their frantic futile struggles to do this through a mouth-filling ball gag.

Positioning a tightly clenched fist an inch from her high-cheekboned face, he suddenly opened his hand with the fingers splayed wide, the hand command for a fuckslut to strip and exhibit herself shamelessly.

In taking it all off and showing the gentlemen what she had to offer, the former fashion model was on very familiar ground, putting on a smoky-eyed, seductive performance. Locking her big blue eyes with the sheik's, Laura opened the leather vest wide to flaunt her braless breasts. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips provocatively, shook her big nippled monster melons hard and dropped the vest to the floor dramatically.

Keeping her eyes locked brazenly with Rashid's, she unzipped and unbuttoned the leather micro miniskirt. She peeled it over her delightful derriere and let it drop. It slid smoothly down her long glorious model's legs and crumpled to the floor.

Laura worked out and waxed religiously to keep her big melons self-supporting and her body smooth and tight. She rarely felt any need to wear underwear and today was no exception. She stepped smoothly out of the micro-miniskirt and struck an utterly shameless pose: chest out, tits aquiver, big red nipples erect, buttocks dimpled prettily and long legs spread provocatively to expose her tight hairless slit. She stared wantonly at Rashid through half-closed eyes, the very embodiment of carnal lust. Laura pumped her cunt lewdly. Salaciously nude, hands on her hips, standing arrogantly tall in her black high heels, Laura cut a sensual, cock-hardening figure.

Eying her naked form appreciatively, the Sheik loved her only item of apparel. Strap-on spike heels were perfect on a brazen beauty that would soon be kicking frantically like a trapped jackrabbit. He was going to love carving the snot out of this haughty bitch; a beauty who had been playing men for fools ever since she had first sprouted those awesome tits.

Rashid nodded to the Nubians.

Each guard grabbed a slim wrist and hoisted it over Laura's head. They buckled thick leather cuffs to her wrists and effortlessly lifted her from the floor. Metal clips on the cuffs were snapped onto two long chains bolted to the high ceiling, two floors high in this part of the Jumbo jet, giving a bitch lots of travel to swing back and forth helplessly while she was being worked over. The guards stepped back, leaving Laura hanging by her wrists. Swaying gently back and forth, her gleaming black spike heels were a foot from the floor. Her smoothly rounded ass cheeks were at the perfect height for a paddling.

Mouth wrapped around the large red rubber ball, Laura looked anxiously at the Sheik, her big blue eyes open wide. Rashid picked up the rubber strap and explained things so that Laura could have a proper appreciation of her spanking to come. Apprehension heightens pain.

"I like a rubber strap for several reasons, Laura. Rubber adds extra snap to each stroke and gives a fiery afterburn. You'll really feel the sting afterwards. This neoprene strap is 22 inches long, an inch wide and a quarter inch thick. It comes with a nice wooden handle for my comfort. I can get a good grip and put lots of muscle into each blow although I don't really need to. The springy rubber does a lot of the work for me. Because it is long, tough and has lots of snap, every stroke raises either a welt or a deep bruise. The edges of the strap are rounded so that it doesn't cut the skin. There are more severe straps with sharp edges, but I prefer not to mark you permanently."

Laura seemed less than grateful for this miniscule morsel of mercy. Desperation blossomed in her big blue eyes. She moaned urgently into the gag. Much too late, she had developed some feminine 'concerns' and wanted to renegotiate the relationship. This spanking was turning out to be much more adult than she had expected.

Rashid smiled indulgently and gave her beautifully rounded bare bum a proprietary squeeze, liking the feel of her tight buns and warm smooth skin against his palm. He added a few comments designed make Laura feel na?ve and foolish, that her present predicament was her own stupid fault for not knowing better.

"It is very brave of you to volunteer for a spanking. As a mature, sexually knowledgeable woman, you know that adult spankings are far more intense than mere childish paddlings. I appreciate a woman who goes straight for the hardcore experiences."

White-eyed with apprehension and panting hard, Laura suddenly looked less than eager for this particular hardcore experience. Shaking her head in a violent no that had her tits shaking a no as well, she kicked and squirmed wildly. Her golden blond hair flew dazzlingly. Rashid and the Nubians grinned, enjoying the show. Rashid clapped.

"Wonderful! Wonderful! A beautiful performance, Laura, and you haven't even received the first stroke yet."

Laura's lovely legs scissored energetically in mid-air. Rashid nodded approvingly at the Nubians. She looked beseechingly at Rashid and squealed pleadingly into her ball gag, struggling futilely to explain that this wasn't what she had in mind. Her naked buttocks clenched and her torso twisted, making her bouncing breasts shimmy like mounds of exquisitely shaped jello, quivering delectably. Purposely misunderstanding all this energetic body language, Rashid was enthusiastic.

"This pain pig really knows what I like to see! Keep it up and you'll have a bonus diamond shoved up your ass."

The Nubians laughed derisively at the stupid American bimbo squirming frantically in mid-air. Laura hated being mocked and glared fiercely at them.

While she was thus distracted, Rashid landed the first stroke with a sound like an exploding firecracker. Perfectly placed, the rubber strap snapped viciously across the middle of her temptingly exposed, lily-white ass globes.

Laura's big blue eyes opened wide in shocked surprise and seemed to almost pop from their sockets. She screamed high and hard into her ball gag. Her golden hair tossed violently and her tits shook with wild abandon as her hips arched forward and her black high heels kicked up high behind her. Strapped firmly to her slim ankles, her black fuck-me pumps stayed attached to her fluttering feet.

She panted hard, her torso heaving, tits aquiver, feeling the fiery afterburn as promised. An inch-wide red welt blossomed angrily across her tightly clenched buttocks. Rashid rubbed the rapidly reddening welt up and down with his neoprene strap, which seemed to spread the pain like fire all over her beautifully dimpled derriere.

Her bare boobs bobbed and bounced beguilingly as she breathed hard and fast. Laura clamped her eyes obsessively on the rubber strap. She began to squirm desperately, her long lovely legs running a frantic marathon in place as Rashid slowly, tantalisingly raised the strap. Toying with her, he held the rubber strap menacingly high while Laura's legs pumped like a track star running a hard sprint. Glancing behind her, she squeaked in terror as he playfully took a few menacing false starts to the stroke.

Her scared little squeak rose to a hysterical shriek as the strap suddenly snapped down. With the sharp crack of hard rubber on tender flesh, a second angry red welt flamed to life across both bare buns, just above the first.

Laura pulled herself desperately up into a chin-up position as the strap lashed again. She hung in mid-air, legs straight, bare buttocks clenched tight, her quivering arms folded up and pressed tight against the sides of her trembling tits. Of course, tightening up all her muscles like that only made it worse, but her experience with this sort of thing was non-existent although improving rapidly. She shrieked into the gag as the strap lifted both buttocks from below, kissing her cheeks hard and laying a third angry red stripe just below the other two.

For the next two strokes, Laura tried arching her nude form away from the strap just before it landed. Both times Rashid pulled the stroke quickly, waited a beat and re-launched it so that she was swinging back into the strap as it landed, amplifying the force of each blow. Two hard swats cracked like pistol shots. Thick red welts blossomed angrily on her lily-white ass above and below the previous three.

A proud determined beauty, Laura did not give up. She straightened her arms, lowering herself as far as possible. Raising her knees high, she crushed her bare thighs against her naked nipples, tucking her burning bum under so that he would be forced to strike upwards. She guessed that this would be his weakest stroke, fighting gravity.

An experienced bitch buster, Rashid took a step backwards, assumed a two-handed grip on the strap handle and swung like a golfer trying for a long drive. The extreme end of the strap, the part that travels fastest with the most leverage, kissed the exact middle of her left butt cheek with an explosive smack, landing precisely on top of the first welt.

Laura shrieked insanely into her gag. Her bare body opened beautifully as she pulled herself up convulsively, throwing her legs back. Her naked torso arched upwards, like she was trying to launch herself into orbit, tits first. As she reached the top of her upwards arch her big boobs shimmied wildly.

Courtesy of all this violent exertion and the length of the chains from her wrist cuffs to the ceiling, Laura began to pendulum back and forth. Rashid took advantage, shellacking her buns each time that she swung back towards the strap, thus unintentionally turning each stroke into a head-on collision between her burning bum and the snapping strap. He timed it carefully so that she was like a child pumping a swing. Emitting a sharp scream, she jerked herself forward with each fiercely cracking stroke of the strap tip on her tender flaming butt cheek.

He smoothly switched sides and worked the other butt cheek with the fast-moving extreme tip of the strap, aiming for a pleasing symmetry on his swinging, frantically squealing victim. He swung hard two-handed, a major-league switch-hitter able to hit a perfect line drive from either side. He aimed carefully and with skill, landing each stroke on the 'sweet spot' of the snapping strap, taking care that it bit into her butt on top of an existing welt, a sensitized place, deepening the bruise, a bursting explosion of ever-increasing agony.

He pinched a ripe succulent nipple tightly and spun her, gripping her nipple each time it came around in a brutal pinch and spinning her hard, winding up the long chains attached to her wrists like the chains of a playground swing. When he had wound her up as tightly as possible, he held her in position by her stretched aching teat for an agonizing moment while Laura squealed in pain and fear.

He released her burning nipple and began slashing viciously with the strap as she unwound, twirling helplessly before him. The neoprene strap flashed with savage violence, swinging the opposite way to her spin, slapping her heinie hard each time she involuntarily presented it. When she had unwound completely, he pinched the other nipple and wound her up the other way. She shrieked dementedly as her bare buns were pasted repeatedly with hard cracks of the strap from the opposite angle.

At last she hung limply, sobbing hard, her dark red ass globes afire, her tousled hair soaked with sweat, a golden halo around her head.

Rashid grinned. Like many rich Arabs, Sheik Rashid had spent his youth at an exclusive English boarding school. As a result, he spoke superb English with an upper crust British accent and understood all about spankings, the English Vice.

"Of course, as you well know, it wouldn't be an adult spanking without that one last definitive stroke."

She looked at him uncomprehendingly. He nodded to the Nubians. They proceeded to make it crystal clear to her as each gripped a shapely ankle and spread her long lovely legs wide, exposing her genitals. Rashid caressed her cuntlips gently, teasingly with the edge of the strap as understanding dawned and a frantically desperate Laura struggled violently, but futilely.

He slowly raised the strap, pulling it back for a two-handed golf swing. Like a golfer, he took a few practise swings next to her, cutting the air with awesomely powerful strokes that whistled fearsomely. Laura whimpered pleadingly as he moved into position, planting his feet carefully. Her twitching groin muscles stood out like steel cables as she repeatedly tried to jerk her legs together. The massive Nubians coped effortlessly with this challenge. Of course, tightening up made it worse, but it was impossible for Laura to relax as she stared obsessively at her smooth shaven quivering quim, a dishevelled wild-eyed madwoman.

He pulled back and swung up hard between her trembling thighs. The Nubians released her dainty ankles as the strap kissed her cuntlips brutally hard. Her blond hair flew, her tits rose magnificently in unison and Laura's naked body spasmed convulsively as the Sheik lifted Laura high. She emitted an inhumanly high scream of raw terror and supreme anguish. The extreme tip of the strap slapped her clit with savage violence.

Laura passed out.

A whiff of smelling salts quickly brought her around, still hanging by her wrists from the ceiling. Rashid gave her tits an approving squeeze.

"Excellent work!"

He nodded to the Nubians. They handed him the greased pool cue. Laura grunted twice, groaning heavily as he ramrodded two large diamonds up her ass and buried them deeply in her gut. He instructed the Nubians briskly.

"Let her down and help her to the change room so that she can freshen up. We'll be landing soon."

He winked enthusiastically at Laura, who was panting hard, red-faced, dripping sweat and tears, a dewdrop of snot quivering on the tip her nose, her golden hair a tangled mess, her throbbing bum a deep purple bruise, her swollen nipples aching, her inflamed cunt burning between her legs.

"That was a great performance, Laura! After we land, we'll have to quit fooling around and get down to some serious perversion!"

He left the room to see how Kyla and Candance were making out, wanting to see Kyla use the mysterious item under the sheet on her implement table. The Nubians moved in for some serious perversion of their own, sandwiching Laura between them. A thick black dick opened her inflamed cuntlips agonisingly. Her bruised burning buttcheeks were painfully prised apart and a large greased dick entered her shit chute for a particularly painful ass-rape. She squealed as his pubic bone slammed repeatedly into her badly bruised bum.

The Nubian in front whispered gentle words of encouragement into her coral pink ear.

"If you complain to anyone, it will not matter to anyone but you for no one believes a whore. However, if you do complain, we will wait politely until the sheik has finished with you completely and then we will rip your pretty face apart with our bare hands, snapping your jawbone, breaking your teeth, splitting open your cheeks, gouging out your eyes with our fingers, tearing off your ears, splintering your nose, shattering your cheekbones and so on. You'll be a hideous monstrosity. No surgeon will be able to put your face together again."

He pumped smoothly, enjoying Laura's small whimpers and frantic squeals, savouring the sweaty sexy smell of her, loving the feel of her hot hard nipples crushed against his chest and the tightness of her swollen, tight pussy massaging his dick, relishing her ravishment. He licked her salty tearstained face.

She was definitely his sort of fuckmeat for poor naked Laura now had the sound, the look, the smell, the feel and even the taste of a thoroughly beaten bitch.

Sheik Rashid's Vengeance

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