Separate names with a comma.
Discussion in 'Laboratory' started by Rhizome, Mar 28, 2017.
Lunaronxy x Rhizome
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Brown
TRAVENER MORTISON ZELEESE
Hair color: Black
Eye color: Ice Blue
EVELYN STARRIK ZELEESE
Hair color: Blonde
Eye color: Blue
A lone hovercar sailed across the high desert sands, without sound — untouchable.
The craft contained a driver in blue livery and a single occupant, who reclined in the rear of the private vehicle. Travener glanced down through the transparent floor in disdain at the filth who called the Uzmani Peninsula home. They flew over stacked homes, stacked atop one another over generations of squalid poverty. The hovels lacked design, grace, or any sense of order, more resembling piles of refuse from the trash heaps of humanity. The parched lands had reached their zenith two millennia ago, and the sprawling excuse that rushed swiftly beneath his feet epitomized the failure of the Arab race. If the dogs had the potential to make something of themselves, they would have done it long ago.
That was the original rationale for the corporate influx — a sort of economic investment regime under the guise of quasi-humanitarian concern. Who better to infuse life into the decrepit disease of Middle Eastern-ism than the global masters of cultural vitality? With technological advancements came unrestricted growth and a prosperity the West had not experienced in many centuries, thank in no small part to corporate prowess. World leaders had already ceded control of global affairs to their economic masters, and the influence of corporate might allowed the creation of a better world — a prosperity akin to enlightenment. That prosperity became adored as the universal achievement of human financial poise — made manifest in the cultural lexicon of the Nordhal, widely known as The Triumph.
The Triumph made all things possible, sweeping away the old, worn vestiges of religion and replacing the outdated notion of faith with an eternal fidelity to profit. Such was the superiority of the Nordahl, who could not help but look down their noses at the warring factions of Islam. The Arab cursed themselves in petty squabbles of ancient distinctions, a condition their soon-to-be economic overlords exploited as the demolition sweepers eradicated acres of homes for new towers and gleaming architectural gestures that left no doubt who was in control of the Uzmani Region.
The hovercar glided effortlessly through a column of smoke. The fumes would have smelled as rancid as Travener imagined were he not in a hermetically sealed vehicle with Type X environmental filters. The world outside existed outside of Travener's world — it was the way of things; the way they ought to be.
Travener hated cruising over the wretched slums, and normally flew with the floor set to an iridescent cobalt blue. But, today was different. A low, throaty buzz echoed faintly about the spacious cabin and a holographic rectangle materialized before Travener. Reclined like a regent, Travener signaled acceptance with a raised finger. "Hello, Evi."
The beautiful blonde woman smiled wickedly. "Good morning, Trav ... and, happy birthday! Are you off to chose your present?"
"I am," Travener replied. His eyes rested in lust upon his wife. "I promise to not disappoint."
"I trust you won't," Evelyn answered. "Don't be gone too long."
"A sandstorm is on its way. I might be delayed," Travener said.
The virtual image of Evelyn pouted. "I need you inside me tonight, Lord Travener." She winked.
The man smiled, puckering his lips in a kiss as the image dissolved. Travener's taut face — born for cruelty — did not intend on rushing home. Instead, he planned the infinite miseries for his new play thing. The Alhalabra Slave Exchange complex appeared out every window, and the hovercar glided effortlessly down and into a designated parking stall. Travener waited for the vehicle to decompress and pressed the exit button, sending the single gull-wing door to lift smoothly. He stepped out into the enclosed parking platform, sanitized air filling his nostrils. Expanses of wall were alight with monitors of near-infinite resolution, and each one displayed exotic women dancing and staring to the spectator with an alluring gaze brimming with sexual desire. Travener sighed in self-satisfaction; he had finally arrived.
A sharp blip caught Travener's attention. He pressed a button on his wrist, and the comm bracelet spoke to him.
"LORD TRAVENER. HAMAL, HERE. I AM READY TO RECEIVE YOU AT THE ENTRANCE. FOLLOW THE LANE FROM YOUR HANGER." A pause. "I'VE SCOUTED SOME PROSPECTS. YOU WILL NOT BE DISPLEASED!"
Five young middle eastern women stood shoulder to shoulder, shackles around their ankles and ropes tying the wrists together. Nearby, two security guards were holding large sparking cat o nine tails. An innovation in technology had combined the classic whip with electric currents to make it that much more painful. It was one such example of the advances in technology that related to slavery.
One woman, by the name of Fatima, in particular stood out. Her family was a worry in the back of the minds of the corporations who held power in the enslaved region. Devout muslims, Fatima's father was the leader of a group of Shia militants who were the biggest threat to open rebellion. As a result, the family was attacked and repressed as much as possible, now resulting in the enslavement of the youngest daughter.
Fatima herself was a wild soul. Angry and resentful towards the corporate assholes who put her and her people in this situation, there was another restraint on her: A ring gag in her mouth and five clothespins on her obviously dry tongue. While this may seem simply like a punishment, this signified that this slave had a loud mouth. The shorter leash on her neck showed that she could possibly be aggressive. This was all done so a master or mistress would always know what they were getting themselves into.
However, compared to the others, Fatima was clearly the most beautiful. Most others showed signs of neglect and looked as if they had long since been broken. Fatima was the opposite, looking strong and proud even now and like she was very much intact. In fact, the only thing the slavers were able to train into her was getting her used to eating dog food, which wasn't always something that owners kept up. More or less, she was untouched.
At long last, Travener was spotted by the owner, a man with a clear French accent who had made his fortune in the slave trade. ServeCo was the largest slave based company in the world, and this man was one of the big wigs. Travener was one of their largest and most important customers, so that was why he showed up.
"Ah, Mr. Zeleese, so glad you could come. I have picked the very best from all of the regions for you, I hope you can find one you like. Of course, if you would like you may browse the others. Their names are on their collars, other than that you know what to do" Jean, the man, said as he took a step back.
Clearly angry eyes looked at Travener from Fatima and she seemed to struggle against the restraints on her wrists. Se wanted to spit, but she couldn't. She wanted to yell, but she couldn't. She wanted to fight, but she couldn't. Fatima was absolutely livid
The name alone demanded respect, announced boldly or whispered in reverence. The full name of the corporation was Sigma Corporation, and the organization garnered both allegiance and prestige with a power that was nothing less than royal. Any self-styled noble among the Imperium class stood taller when in the presence of one of SigCorp's officers, and Travener was among the corporation's elite.
The corporation was -- until recently -- Sigma Delphi Corporation until the merger two years ago. All great organisms cohere and surrender themselves to grow into something better -- evolution is not a concept restricted to the flora and fauna of the Earth. That was how Travener met Evelyn, and they became husband and wife. The learned and scholarly muse on how history (or, its cycles) tends to repeat in core patterns, and the manner of inter-corporate relationships was no exception. An odd, medieval character began to arise, especially in the feudal-like custom of arranging marriages between corporate entities as mergers were finalized. Both Travener and Evelyn were staunchly loyal to their respective corporate regents, and being isolated geographically and established socio-politically made them key candidates for ensuring that the merger thrived. Such a tactic also ensured that all parties involved -- both personally and corporately -- invested the best of themselves to make the union -- both financial and nuptial -- a success.
Travener happened to be a man of voracious, sexual appetite. He loved his wife dearly, and tended to her often -- sometimes to the detriment of their respective business roles. Travener's attentions could be intense, and such treatment left Evelyn -- aside from supremely satisfied -- sore and unable to physically function.
Thus, came the brilliant idea of bringing a slave into their home. It all made sense for so many reasons. Sanctioned by Evelyn, Travener could shunt and divert the majority of his rampant sexual predilections onto the slave. That left Evelyn with a man unconsumed with blind desire, more likely to flourish into a gentleman who indulged with respectable (but, still vigorous) frequency. And, to be honest, Evelyn tended to show signs of dominance herself -- a subject of slight friction, since she gave her body to Travener and found her will often subsumed by his ardent desires. A slave could be enjoyed by both of them.
Evelyn's instructions were clear: she approved Travener purchasing a slave for his birthday, but there were conditions -- the slave had to be attractive, well-mannered, and he would take care of her. In this way, slaves were thought of as equivalent to pets -- as was the inherent right of the Imperium, who enshrouded themselves in a moral righteousness akin to manifest destiny: their regency was ordained, and their actions infallible.
Travener bore all this in mind as he inspected the specimens that Hamal had pre-selected for him. The ServeCo representative, Pierre Zordash, was an acquaintance of Travener. They often sat on the same development boards and sought one another at socials and mingling events. Pierre prided himself for being to one who placed the bug in Travener's ear about owning a slave in the first place. The sale itself did boost Pierre's profit margin, but only by degree -- Pierre felt a deep satisfaction that his friend, a vested Lord of Uzmani and Officer of SigCorp was accepting his merchandise for her personal use. Such machinations could be contrived, but Pierre found that things worked out best when they were genuine. A bond had been forged, and Pierre walked as if he had a feather in his cap standing next to Travener.
Travener had pass by most of the slave girls, who -- though pretty -- lacked that special quality. "What quality is that, my Lord?" Pierre asked.
"It's hard to articulate," Travener answered. "You know it when you find it though."
That was when Travener set his eyes upon Fatima, which grew in lust and great interest. The reaction was not lost on either Pierre or Hamal, both harboring the same interest and reservation. Fatima was stunning, possibly the most gorgeous woman to come through the slave complex in the past year. Her beauty came at a price that was more than financial.
"My Lord," Hamal spoke, in deference, "although your taste in beauty is unsurpassed, you do realize her inherent ... difficulty?"
Travener simply raised his hand to silence the Proli. He knew precisely what he was getting himself into. Evelyn had wanted someone meek and obedient, but Travener wanted someone with a spark. Such a quality was intangible, yet undeniable. What excitement is there in screwing a broken woman? Where's the sense of conquest? Domination over lesser men was his business, why would it be any less in the bedroom?
Travener looked at Fatima; he could see the hate in her eyes and hear her futile attempts to curse him. Yes, he thought. This woman would be a tiger between the sheets. Plus, when she did eventually break -- in a manner of Travener's choosing -- that knowledge and history, knowing what he had accomplished would impart a supreme satisfaction every time he violated her orifices. When she was domesticated, Travener would keep her fire and re-craft it as a sexual allure for other men to envy and covet. This Fatima woman had that special quality that Travener sought, and if he felt lust just gazing into her eyes, so would his peers, clients, and colleagues. It would take work, but the end result made Travener hard.
Travener walked up to Fatima and stared maliciously into her large, brown eyes. His hand took her throat and tilted her head back. Looking over his shoulder, Travener spoke to the waiting men. "Do you mind?"
Hamal was the one to act, walking behind Fatima and taking her hair at the roots. He tugged back so that she was staring at the ceiling. Hamal kicked his boot on the inside of Fatima's ankles, getting her to spread her legs for her prospective master.
Satisfied with the presentation pose, Travener began his personal inspection. His hands ran over the contours of Fatima's body, feeling her skin and form. He would be intimately familiar with Fatima in due time, and wanted nothing less than perfection. Each moment he observed her, the more Travener became convinced she was the one. Her skin glowed of the lightest cocoa and her nipples peaked from stiffness. Travener openly fondled Fatima in front of the other men, enjoying the turgidity of her tits and feeling himself getting even harder.
"Yes," Travener breathed. As if he needed more proof, Travener lowered himself to his knees and inspected Fatima's pussy. Hamal jerked harshly on Fatima's hair. "BE STILL!" he ordered. Fatima's pussy was beautifully sculpted and serene, just waiting to be deflowered. Travener's fingers worked their way past her folds; he licked his finger and inched it inside of Fatima. Travener sniffed this glistening finger before licking it in appraisal. He nodded to himself.
"I must have her," Travener stated. "Is she a virgin?"
Most would not believe it possible for a more angry and despising look than the original. They would be sorely mistaken. The long look that she received from Travener was reciprocated with a look of pure fury, practically saying I want to watch you die slowly and painfully. And indeed she did. The fire inside the girl was huge, there was no way to miss it. She would not be an easy taking.
When Travener first began to touch her, that was when the real fury began. A scream of anger erupted from her throat, causing her to shake in the bondage and try escaping again. Hamal seemed to pull her hair harder and held onto her wrists as well. When her virgin folds were touched, this happened again. A swift smack to her rear was administered as punishment, but it had no effect. Hamal could do nothing but hold her there.
"Is she a virgin? Oh, yes. She's about as sexually untouched as you can be. She was one of the most stubborn sheet wearers we'd ever had. She assaulted the guard who told her to take it off the first day, and she actually tried to make her own from her bed sheets. I don't think she's been touched sexually in her life. Before we got to her, at least. You should have seen her at her first ass rape....my god it was comedic" Pierre smiled.
While the place had a policy of not deflowering virgins, that did not apply to the back entrance. Oftentimes, anal was administered as punishment. Fatima was one of the most common sufferers of this punishment. While she had no long term damages to an otherwise tight extra hole and beautiful posterior to match it, the damage was psychological.
The mention of her ass fucking made her hiss angrily through the gag, causing another slap on the ass. She shook her head angrily and viciously, a couple clothespins flying off her tongue from the speed and flying at Travener. However, there was no part of Fatima that seemed concerned about hitting the man with the pegs. She was able to formulate a couple words, albeit hard to understand, and she managed to get out a "kiwl youwsewlf ywou piece owf shwit" and she smirked Up at him.
A stomp on her exposed ankle led to a whimper of pain as punishment, but Pierre held his hand out to tell Hamal to stop. "I am sure you know the problems by now. I'll let you deal with that if you want her. Now, the price for virgins usually is $100,000. However, since you're such a good friend and customer, ill chop it down to $80,000. Now what do you say. Do we have a deal?" He smiled.
Fatima's cold eyes locked on Travener and gave him a look like I will be the worst nightmare you ever experienced. However, the look of him made her a bit nervous. He was not the kind that would just give in
Travener had been, for the most part, ignoring Fatima as he examined her body. She was nothing more than a piece of organic merchandise to the corporate luminary, and giving her more dignity than necessary was not only unnecessary, but ... undignified. Travener heard garbled slurring that was most likely the slave's vain attempt at curses and threats — Travener took it them as a collective promise of incorrigibility. Her defiant screams of fury while he inspected her orifice amounted to a mere, minor distraction — indeed, Travener expected such volatility from a worthy woman. Travener stood tall and gazed coldly into Fatima's rage-fueled brown eyes. She spoke Nordahl well enough, despite her oral restraints and the clips on her tongue. The person he apprehended was less than worthless — she epitomized the base, immature, uncivilized culture that led the Arab State into decline and eventual surrender. The natives balked with righteous proclamations about inherent rights, yet Islam pre-disposed these savages to their Naquem status long before the Nordahl ascended their rightful place. Dog eats dog; it was the natural order of the world.
The insult, however, triggered a far deeper response within Travener. When Fatima informed her new master that he could kill himself, the response was as swift as it was decisive. Before Fatima could register the cause, she doubled over from a powerful punch to the gut. The feeling of nausea overcame the woman as Travener yanked back her hair, clawing his fingers around the slave's trachea. The terrible man could easily destroy her breathing tube, leaving her to asphyxiate on the floor. Again, his cold eyes of ice blue met every inch of her defiance.
"$80,000, you say?" Travener asked. His eyes not leaving Fatima's. "I'll give you $90,000 for this bitchy cunt, an evening here in one of the private rooms, and one of your Globe systems."
Pierre pondered the request, then nodded with a smile. "My friend, I think we have a deal."
Travener smiled in return and shook the slaver's hand, sealing the deal. Pierre reached into his back pocket and walked behind Fatima. Hamal took hold of Fatima's hair, weaving his broad arms around hers into a kind of grappling lock to restrain her.
"Hold still, slave!" Hamal ordered.
The feel of a slick oil pen began to write on Fatima's almond-colored back ...
The punch did momentarily send Fatima's mind reeling. So, he could throw a punch? Not bad...for a white guy. She dealt with far worse when playing with her brothers. Despite the obvious threat that his clasped hands around her neck entailed, Fatima's eyes did not lose their anger. She did not calm. She stared the man dead in the eyes, comfortable enough that he wasn't going to kill her. If he did, he'd save her a lot of work, anyway. There was no nervousness in her face.
Fatima paid no attention to what was written on her back, not caring enough. She didn't care. At the end of the day, it was just words from some self righteous asshole who thought he was Supreme over Allah's chosen people. He would answer for it soon enough, be it at a mortal's hands or on the day of judgement. Actions had consequences. All of them here would face dire ones.
After the writing was finished, A large 'THE ZELEESE FAMILY SLUT' across her back, Hamal did not even give Fatima the chance to do anything. She was slung over his shoulder and carried to the chosen room that Travener had purchased. It was all set up for situations like this: a nice apartment style room with expensive looking furnishings, and various sex toys everywhere. Steel loops stuck out of the wall as a base to tie a slave to, and a smaller pet bed for a well behaved slave was next to the larger king sized fluffy one for the master in charge.
Hamal threw the girl on the ground in this living room section, where most of the objects were, and walked out with only a nod to Travener. Now it was just the two of them. Fatima could not get up from this situation, however she was not afraid. She watched the man who claimed to own her, sizing him up, daring him to try her.
Travener smirked at the title written in brazen, black letters across his slave's back. Hand bound, Travener delighted walking behind Hamal -- for then Fatima fought her fate as a dead, useless weight over a strongman's shoulder, she was forced to look up and behind Hamal; that was where Travener waited, his eye brimming with arrogant superiority. He approved of how carelessly Hamal tossed his prized bitch upon the carpeted floor of the apartment, his approval in the nod he gave at the man's exit. The pneumatic door slid closed and quiet filled the room. They were alone, at last.
"Welcome to your new life," Travener said, unzipping his one-piece, jet-black suit. A solid, muscled body emerged, clad in close-crop pair of black underwear. "Even with Pierre's discount, you cost a pretty penny. It's been a long while since I've deflowered a virgin ... and you're going to feel sooo good."
An evil smile lifted the ends of Travener's lips as he approached his slave. The chain lead attached to her collar laid in serpentine fashion upon the floor, and Travener lifted the chain into his hands, tugging.
"Come here, slave ..."
Fatima's eyes went wide at his words...of taking her virginity... and she began trying to back away. The chain in his hand stopped that possibility, and as he pulled her closer using it, she kept fighting, pulling in the other direction of the chain as she began crying out "nwo! Nwo! Nwo!!!" In higher pitched screams each and every time. In her eyes was the look of pure terror.
With the way Fatima was raised, it was no surprise that she was so terrified. She had been taught since a little girl that virginity was sacred, meant to be kept until marriage where it was given as a mark of the new step of life. This was taking away one of the most precious parts of her. To Fatima, this was a serious body blow, she would fight tooth and nail to keep her virginity until the second his disgusting cock broke it.
Soon enough, though, her pulls weren't working. She was next to him, mere inches away, and she went for broke. She moved closer to him, trying to pretend to be good, and sent a hard headbutt his direction and then tried to take off running, hoping he dropped the chain..
The sight of Fatima's frightened eyes sent satisfied shivers down Travener's spine. Knowing that he had the young woman on the edge of her limit made him want to her more. The value of virginity to the Arab swine made the mental victory a true psychological accomplishment. Inch by inch, Fatima same closer as Travener claimed more and more of her collar's chain. A smug look plastered on his face, his cock could almost taste how soft and warm Fatima's pussy would feel. Until ...
A head of long black hair engulfed his face. Hard crashing pain and the coppery scent of his blood filled his nostrils. Scurrying and scuffing could be heard as the room spun. Soon, however, -- to Fatima's great misfortune -- Travener regained his sense of self and watched the defiant Nequam beating on the magnetically-locked portal.
Fucking cunt! Travener seethed. The primate had no idea that he, and he alone, could open that door. As Travener grabbed a towel and smeared the blood from his face, he advanced upon the woman with hatred in his eyes and violence in his heart. No manner of self-defense would avail the less-than-human before his wrath. First came a strong punch to the jaw, which was a mere feint for his knee-kick that landed straight to Fatima's gut.
Travener took the doubled-over slave's her chain once more and dragged her to a wall console. He grabbed the handle of a short, blunt rod -- glass smooth -- and charged the device with a flick of a switch. Travener jabbed the blunt end maliciously into Fatima's side, delivering untold, torturous volts into the woman as punishment for her futile resistance.
The discovery that the door wouldn't open made Fatima's heart sink. She banged on the door helplessly, shouldering into it a couple times and praying it would open. It didn't. The hinges stayed sturdy and the lock remained intact. Fuck. She turned around when she heard the heavy footsteps of Travener, gulping a bit when she figured out he was very close. She wouldn't be able to defend. Especially not without her arms or legs.
A spray of blood came out Fatima's mouth as the hard punch to the jaw connected. She managed to stay mostly quiet, a low groan of pain only coming out. However, the huge kick she received to her stomach made her hell in pain, and manage to throw up the little contents of her stomach on the ground. She fell down to her knees in pain when he began dragging her. She couldn't do anything.
Another howl of pain came from Fatima as she was electrocuted, a quick blue light remaining in her side and her ears buzzing a bit. She began trying to crawl away, barely able to make any ground but desperate. Her tied hands gripped the bedposts nearby and she tried to pull herself under the bed to escape harm's way momentarily, and get away from the horrible electrical torture
"No, you don't ..."
Travener wasn't fucking around. His strong hand gripped Fatima's ankle and he pulled the disobedient slut clear of the bed -- the only refuse in the room and hope to escape her punishment. Fatima's doom was sealed, and her antics only delayed her inevitable deflowering. The shock prod still in one hand, Travener took the top of Fatima's scalp in a stern grip and hoisted her up onto her knees.
"You fucking sand nigger ... I'm going to enjoy this."
Dragging her briskly back to the wall, Travener lifted her up. The single snap of a metal clip near Fatima's collar sealed her fate. She could flail all she wished, but the back of her neck was hooked to the wall until Travener deemed otherwise. The wrist restraints were detachable, and Travener unfastened them from one another to clip them onto the wall. Fatima's arms spread wide to either side, parallel with the top of her shoulders. The restraints around Fatima's ankles connected in the same manner, leaving the once free woman in a modified crucifixion pose -- legs spread wide.
"Finally," Travener said, with a victorious sigh. "Now comes play time ... how much pain you experience is entirely up to you, slave." He laid out the electro-prod, the charged cat-o-nine-tails, and other assorted whips from the closet of punishment.
Restrained hands reached desperately for the bed supports, finding nothing as she wasn't pulled away from her only possible refuge. Once again, her beautiful thick locks were used against her and she cried out in pain. The phrase that was used so often at the expense of her race, sand nigger, only served to further cause her to struggle.
However, this was in vain. As she was chained to the wall and unable to move, save for useless mere centimeters, she managed to move her wrists a bit but could not do anything. She could not escape. The realization of this caused the anger in Fatima's eyes to be replaced with desperation and despair.
She shook her head a little, protesting and begging for him to put down the torture devices. She wanted no part of this, she just wanted it to be over. However, some part of her hoped he would forget about taking her virginity in a sadistic rush. It was a long shot, but her only hope
Completely immobilized, Fatima was at Travener's mercy.
The elite Nordahl paused, as if basking in the glory of the moment ... prolonging the realization in his new slave that her condition was hopeless. As was her womanhood.
Travener sniffed, tasting the coppery slurry of his own blood in coagulation. He turned and left Fatima alone, affixed to the wall, and retired to the lavatory. He washed the blood from his face, not wanting his new slave to witness the most minor signs of victory from resistance. No, he would appear clean and pristine, just as his position dictated -- just as he was, just as he deserved to be apprehended.
Regal once more, black hair slicked back, Travener slowly approached Fatima. His eyes surveyed her body in fits of futile struggle. She must have known what was coming. But, to her credit, her resistance had subsided. A smug grin -- common among the Imperium -- defined Travener's features as he bypassed the torture instruments and draped his hands across Fatima's body. Her body glowed with erotic perfection in Travener's eyes, and his kisses began to blanket her chest and nipples.
"You see?" Travener asked. "Cooperation can yield rewards."
Travener ran his hands up and down Fatima's bound body, his mouth sucking hard on Fatima's tits, his teeth nibbling on her erect nipples. A definite bulge had grown in his shorts, making the scale of his underwear appear decidedly undersized. One hand reached up and took the side of Fatima's scalp -- the other descended to sensually play past the folds of her vagina. Travener's wandering soon found her clit, exposed. He stimulated her directly, releasing Fatima's hair to remove the clips on her tongue ... only to reset them on her hard nipples.
There was no real relaxation from Fatima, her heart and mind were still racing. The girl's desperate mind was searching for a way, any way, of escape. However, with her neck, wrists and ankles secured to the wall, there was nothing she could do. She watched him return, her heart dropping as she realized there was nothing she could do.
When he began to touch her again, she gave one last fit of thrashing before exhaustion finally took hold of her body. She didn't have the energy to keep this up. Purina was only so nurturing for the human body. Angry eyes watched his hands, but at the same time they seemed to be welling up with tears.
She barely reacted when he messed with her nipples, only giving a small shiver when he succeeded in making them hard. The movement of the clothespins from her tongue to her nipples made her shudder a bit and try to shy away but nothing more. However, when his hand touched that pure and untouched vagina, was when she began to cry. The tears finally began to fall down her face relatively fast and she did not try to stop them.
"Pwease..." she begged, the ring gag still slurring her words "don't dwo what you want two dwo" she whispered, trying to pull her womanhood away from him and closer to the wall. Of course, this did nothing really and her nether region did not leave his hand. She looked at him with sad pleading puppy eyes, her last defense of a desperate case
Travener's hand did not move from Fatima's snatch, and his fingers still wriggled, massaging her vaginal folds. The texture of Fatima's hair could be felt between Travener's stern fingers, and he appreciated the silky texture of her natural oils and perspiration. He could smell the odor that wafted from Fatima's body and between her legs, neither of which were unpleasant to her master. Travener pressed his body up against Fatima, her breasts expanding wide as their nipples touched. They were face to face, and his nose dragged along the bony ridge of her cheek bone. The hand that molested Fatima's womanhood released to grip his own cock -- his flared head began to push past Fatima's artificially moistened lips.
That was when he heard Fatima's semi-coherent pleas, and -- more importantly -- the intense sadness in her gorgeous eyes.
Travener hesitated, for reasons he could not fathom. A flare of hatred spiked in the man, and he pressed his body against her with greater rigor and force ... yet, still Fatima regarded him with soft, pleading eyes. Travener tensed in confusion and real emotion; his mind reeled and considered the situation in strategic longevity. Slowly, his cock retracted from her unbreached entrance.
The grip on her hair, however, tightened painfully.
"Your virginity is mine ... why should I not take it." His eyes narrowed. "What can you possibly offer me for not claiming your vagina?"
Her eyes shut in the fear of what she was convinced was going to happen as his body pressed against hers. She felt their nipples touched, his free manly ones and her clamped smushed ones. Even their nipples were a testament to who really was in charge. However, she felt him pull away and her eyes went wide.
She yelped a bit in pain as she felt him begin to pull on her hair. It became very painful very fast as she couldn't move her head closer to gain some relief since her neck was chained to the wall. She wished she didn't have the gag on for this, but still she'd try to reason with him.
"Iwts a big thwing fwor me not to lwose mwy vigwinity. Pwease. I'll dwo anything. Dwont take this fwom me. Don't dwam me to Hwell...I'll dwo anythwing..." she whispered, her tone sounding more and more desperate