Chapter 1

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/Ma, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Blackmail, Drunk/Drugged, Slavery, TransGender, CrossDressing, Shemale, High Fantasy, BDSM, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Humiliation, Group Sex, Orgy, Harem, Interracial, Black Female, White Female, Indian Male, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Sex Toys, Water Sports, Enema, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Double Penetration, Foot Fetish, Leg Fetish, Public Sex, Violent, Transformation, Prostitution, Royalty, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Closet transvestite Michele is kidnapped by a league of Arab men and forced into becoming a sex slave, performing depraved sex acts for their pleasure. Michele's only friend is her tutor Sarina, a fellow abductee, who teaches Michele how to satisfy the men who rape her every day. Michele is forced to suckle and fuck their huge cocks, ensuring they are satisfied. She eventually becomes adept in her role as a crossdressed puta but continues to plan her escape.

Michele felt the huge member buried in her anus begin to pulsate; hot, creamy semen flooded her back passage. She was lying face down on the huge bed; pressed down into the satin sheets and soft mattress, her own penis trapped in her satin panties was also hard and leaking pre-seminal fluid. She lay still as Ahmed, the man lying on top of her, emptied himself into her.

Ahmed preferred to fuck Michele doggy-style and finish with her prone; pushed down flat on the bed legs splayed when he climaxed; he didn't like her to push back like some of her other captors did. He just liked her to lie still while he pressed his body hard against her as he came, he didn't thrust when he came, he just let his penis throb and quiver when he ejaculated.

He grunted as he eased his cock out of Michele's anal sheath, he got up on his elbows and then on to his feet. Michele felt warm semen flow out of her sphincter and a few hot drops of Ahmed's spend dropped onto her stockings when he dismounted.

The other man in the room quickly took Ahmed's place and she felt his cock probe her sphincter insistently as he impatiently tried to enter her. She knew that Sadan liked to fuck her hard and fast; he liked to fuck her after others had already filled her back passage with their seed and almost always went last if she was being used by more than one man.

Michele grunted as Sadan's glans found her sphincter and then his cock slid easily into her, deep and snug in her lubricated passage. He immediately began to thrust in and out of her in a steady rhythm, his penis stimulating her prostate causing her penis to begin leaking precum again.

Sadan pulled Michele to her knees and she knew better than to resist him. In fact she eased herself up, ensuring Sadan's cock did not fall out of her; she began to buck back against him as he gripped her thighs and began to jackhammer in and our of her.

Michele knew that Sadan was a quick comer and she did her best to please him by meeting his thrusts and wriggling her buttocks for him when he was fully inside her. She wanted him to come quickly so that today's ordeal would be over as soon as possible. As much as she was sexually aroused, it was mostly involuntary, she had discovered early in her captivity that she couldn't prevent her body from responding to stimulation. Although she admitted to herself that she enjoyed the gratification, the caveat applied that she was being forced to endure the pleasure.

She knew what was coming next because Sadan always took his pleasure the same way. She could sense that his orgasm was approaching and soon he would roll her over and finish missionary; which is exactly what he did. Michele assisted him as he flipped her over; she lifted her legs up as Sadan pulled her heels over his shoulders and lifted her buttocks so he had unimpeded access to anus. He pulled her panties out of the way so his cock slid easily in and out of her. Sometimes the men fucked her sans-panties, but mostly they left them on and either tore open the crotch or pulled them out of the way. In fact they seldom removed any of her clothing, preferring to fuck her fully or partially clothed.

Michele lay on her back and looked up at her dark-skinned abductor; his black hair usually covered by a keffiyeh or taqiyah was stylishly western cut and dank with sweat. His eyes were dark and his white teeth contrasted with his close-cropped beard as he grimaced with the effort of fucking his transvestite slave. She looked up at her well-shaped calves and slender ankles encased in sheer, flesh-toned stockings and her delicate feet shod in black patent-leather high-heels, high in the air, one leg over each of Sadan's shoulders.

Sadan took up where he left off and began to fuck her vigorously building up to his climax. Michele raised her torso to meet his thrusts, encouraging him.

"Fuck me! Fuck me baby! Come deep inside me!" she groaned.

Unlike most of her captors, Sadan liked her to talk dirty to him when he was using her. He had used physical force to get her to do so when the men had been 'training' her but now she willingly complied.

Sadan was about to come and Michele raised her buttocks up to greet his insistent thrusts, she locked her heels behind his back and rubbed her thighs and body against him as he fell on her and began to kiss her passionately. She kissed him back, their tongues intertwining. The pressure of his body rubbing against her panty-clad penis and the intense pleasure his cock was evoking from her anus was bringing her close to orgasm.

They fucked each other hard and fast, grunting and sweating, bucking and grinding, moaning and groaning.

"Fuck that white mukhannath shermuta Sadan, and then let us get out of here quickly. We have more important tasks at hand," Ahmed quipped.

"You take too much pleasure from seeing hers," he mocked.

Michele had learned some Arabic and knew that 'mukhannath shermuta' roughly translated to 'transvestite slut'. She also knew that although Ahmed was mocking his close friend for bringing her to orgasm, Ahmed liked to see to see her come when he was alone with her having one-on-one sex. Her captors were fluent in Arabic, French, Italian and English and some of them spoke other languages as well and Michele had picked up some of the foreign words they used, as had the other captive sex slaves.

Sadan howled and ground his groin into Michele as hot seed erupted from his tumescent phallus, Michele moaned and ground herself against him, her own emission flooding her panties. The feeling of shame that she felt as she ejaculated banished by the intense pleasure she felt as her orgasm washed over her. The two men had been toying with her for about three hours now and she had been on the verge of climax a number of times; the relief she felt as the man on top of her bucked and flailed as he fucked her and emptied himself in her was delightful.

"MMMmmm! Fuck me! Come in me! Use me!" Michele goaded the swarthy Arab.

She rubbed her stocking-clad thighs against him and kissed him passionately as he gripped her tightly and emptied the last of his spend deep in anus. The intense pleasure radiating from deep in her bowel and the tingly delight emanating from her penis was beginning to subside into that intense feeling of post-coital satisfaction.

Sadan pulled his cock out of Michele's anus, untangled her legs and pushed her aside. He had finished with her now and she was just another possession that needed to be cleaned, fed, and prepared for when he and his fellow captors wanted to use her again.

Sadan sauntered away towards the bathroom; his erection slowly deflating, his cock glistening with juices.

"Go whore! Get out of here so the housemaids can clean up the mess," Ahmed ordered.

Michele pulled her cum-drenched panties into place and pulled down her skirt. As she sat up on the bed she felt warm semen begin to dry and cool on her thighs and pool in her panties as it dribbled from her anus. The front of her panties were soaked with her own spend and she knew that it would soon soak into her skirt and stocking-tops. It didn't matter; she would clean the skirt before it stained and she had literally hundreds of pairs of stockings and pantyhose; the stockings she was wearing now were laddered and holed and would have to be discarded anyway.

She got to her feet, bowed to Ahmed, and walked backward out of the room with her head bowed as she had been trained to do. Once clear of the 'playroom' she spun on her heels and tottered off to her quarters.

She had been a transvestite sex slave for over a year now and as she made her way through the dark corridors her thoughts shifted to as to how she had come to be in her current situation. She remembered how it all began...

"And so Jamhal; it has been decided by The Cabal that we will acquire a mukhannath; a transvestite. Not a transsexual, we have had transsexuals before with their huge titty implants and reconstructive surgery; we want a man who dresses like a woman. A man who looks very attractive dressed as a woman. But a man no less," Saheed dictated and Jamhal nodded sagely.

"We can fuck our women putas in the ass and we can fly in transsexual putas and fuck them; but to the Cabal it is not the same as fucking a crossdressed effeminate man."

Jamhal nodded again; he knew that Arab men grew up fucking boys and young men and that sometimes they would have the boys dress in women's garb but this would not be the same. They wanted a convincing crossdresser that they could train and use and abuse.

"He, that is She, must be around thirty or so, white of course, and very pleasing. We also prefer she be inexperienced so that we may have the pleasure of teaching her," Saheed went on.

"Go! Make it so!" Jamhal was dismissed.

The Cabal was a secretive group of profoundly rich Arab men, most of their money came from oil but they all owned other highly lucrative businesses and some were indirectly related to Emirs, Sheiks and other Arab royalty. They kept a stable of sex slaves for their use and it was Jamhal's job to keep the stable stocked with whatever took their fancy. Most of the women he abducted were eventually won over by the money that was showered on them and became compliant and willing participants. They were then released with the riches they had earned. Those who remained reluctant, and these were the most highly prized, would eventually jade the appetites of the Cabal and would also be released.

They would wake up in a five-star hotel somewhere in Europe dressed in finery and precious jewellery, with huge deposits in their bank accounts. If any of them complained to the authorities they would not be able to explain their new found riches and in any event they had no idea where they had been held captive and by whom.

It didn't take long for Jamhal to find a fitting subject for his employers...

Michael Nyland sat in seat 1A of the Emirates airbus and listened to the hostie's announcement:

"Ladies and gentlemen the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign in anticipation of our arrival in Dubai. Please ensure your tray tables..."

Michael stopped listening. He began to think. He couldn't believe how lucky he had been to have landed this job. He was a software engineer and had been headhunted by a Middle East company that wanted to pay him ridiculous amounts of money to write computer programs. It was five-times his last salary and the deal included accommodation, living expenses and first class travel. Sure he would have to live in a sandpit but he would live in luxury.

But Steve had a secret that he had withheld during the interview process when they had asked him if had any personal impediments that could compromise his integrity. Steve was the rarest of animal; a heterosexual transvestite.

He had been crossdressing since he was a child; initially just wearing his mothers and sisters lingerie, later their clothes and later still he had perfected a female persona that he kept secret. He loved dressing as a woman and felt more comfortable dressed enfemme but he was well and truly in the closet.

He had a Facebook page where his alter ego Michele posted pictures of herself and speculated about her life as a closet transvestite and also a Flickr profile with hundreds of 'glam' pictures but she had never ventured out dressed as Michele nor invited anyone home. Michele was content just being Michele in the privacy of her own home.

Michael had been discovered a number of time dressed as Michele whilst growing up. His father was deceased and his mom and sister did not condone his crossdressing and so Michael had left home as soon as he could so that he could pursue his crossdressing peccadilloes and had not contacted his family since.

Michele would never have dreamt that this would make her vulnerable; but it hadn't taken Jamhal long to track her down online and decide she was the perfect candidate for the Cabal. When Jamhal had interviewed Michael for the software engineer position and had asked him the question about compromise and Michael lied, Jamhal knew he had hooked his fish.

Michael was reconciled to the fact that he would not be able to bring Michele out of her closet whilst he was working in the Middle East; the money was too good to decline the offer proposed to him. He took comfort in the fact that Michele's accoutrements were safely packed away where he could get to them when he returned home during the generous holiday periods that were a provision of his contract.

He was pleasantly surprised when his request for a last gin and tonic before landing was granted; he knew that he had to meet Jamhal tonight at the hotel in Dubai but was not too concerned; the United Arab Emirates was not a dry country. Jamhal had drunk wine during the lengthy interview process in London and had insisted on a champagne toast to seal the deal when he was hired.

Two hours later Michael was checked into the Hilton, had showered, shaved and changed and was sitting in the bar with Jamhal drinking another gin and tonic as they discussed the final arrangements of his employment.

"Drink up Michael; this will be your last drink for three months," he slapped Michael on the back.

"Once we arrive in my little country you will not be able to drink."

"Yeah, but it will be worth it considering what you are paying me," Michael laughed.

Jamhal had once again showed Michael the pictures on his tablet of the spacious apartment he would be living in, the car that had been leased for him, and the online money transfer as down payment for his services.

"Ok. One for the road and then I need to sleep," Michael said.

"Scholl!" Jamhal laughed as Michael drained his glass.

Jamhal smiled. The infidel was stupid and drunk and had not seen Jamhal expertly drop the drugs into Michael's drink; he was too busy basking in his good fortune. But Michael's good fortune had run out. He just didn't know it yet.

Michael woke up in a dungeon. A plush dungeon, carpeted, king bed with satin sheets, a large wardrobe that had been left open and appeared to full of ladies clothing, through an open door he could see an ensuite bathroom, but it was a dungeon non the less. The only other door was closed firmly and there were no windows; the air conditioning was almost silent and over its quiet hum he could hear muffled voices; both male and female. Every now and then he would hear a peal of laughter, a grunting sound that usually accompanied someone having sex, and the odd moan of despair and pain.

This was very confusing to him, the last thing he remembered was drinking in the hotel bar with Jamhal. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious but it seemed like a considerable amount of time.

But what was most confusing, befuddling, and horrifying was that he was dressed in drag, tied to a chair in the middle of the room, the chair was bolted to the floor. One of the walls was all mirrored glass and he could see himself; or rather herself.

Michele was dressed exactly how she liked to be. She could feel the satin underwear and sheer stockings, taste the makeup, smell her perfume. Her head was coiffured in a black bob, she was wearing a black leather miniskirt, mauve satin blouse, black high-heels and accessorised with gold jewellery. She could even see that her nails were painted ruby-red.

She looked at herself in the mirror; whoever had transformed her had done a magnificent job; she could even feel that her body and legs and been recently shaved. Someone had brushed her teeth and she could taste mouthwash.

She was bewildered and had a horrible feeling that someone was watching her; the mirror was likely one-way.

Suddenly the door opened and Jamhal entered the room followed by another swarthy man of Middle East appearance.

"And so Saheed is this not just what you ordered? As you can see she is presented to you just as she appears in the pictures I showed you," Jamhal said to the swarthy one.

"She will do," Saheed replied.

"Jamhal; what the fuck is going on..." Michele shrieked

Saheed stepped forward and backhanded her across the mouth.

"You have not broken or trained her then?" Saheed ignored Michele and spoke to Jamhal.

"As you wish sahib I have left her unsullied and unbroken for the Cabal to train as they wish," Jamhal replied.

Michele was not stupid, as incredible as it seemed, the thing that one only read about in the Sunday tabloids had happened to her. She had been abducted in some strange Arab country and was being held captive.

Saheed lifted her face and inspected it closely.

"Someone has done a good job presenting her," he remarked.

"Sarina sahib. She actually relished the opportunity to turn this stupid infidel into the delightful creature you see before you," Jamhal replied.

"I might have guessed; she has developed quite the appetite for preparing and training the new stock," Saheed grinned.

"I think I will have a little taste before I present her to the Cabal. You may go," Saheed ordered and Jamhal bowed deeply and left the room.

Michele opened her mouth to say something and Saheed struck her again.

"The next time you open your mouth it will be to take what I offer! The Cabal is patient and if I have to beat you they are quite prepared to wait until your wounds heal before they take you."

"So! One and only warning; shut the fuck up unless I ask you to speak, understand?"

Michele's head was ringing from the blow but she already knew that this man was a man of his word and had no compassion for her.

Saheed lifted her face again and inspected her. Michele strained at the bonds holding her wrists and ankles to the chair and Saheed raised his hand. Michele forced herself to relax.

"Good; you are learning," he sneered.

"So now."

Michele was horrified when the swarthy man unzipped his flies and produced a large erection. The shaft was dark and the glans purple and swollen; a glob of clear pre-seminal fluid had formed on the eye-shaped opening.

Saheed lifted Michele's face and thrust his penis towards her.

"Suck it! If you bite me I will remove your teeth one at a time with pliers and fuck your bleeding gums!" he threatened.

Michele did not doubt him.

Saheed put her head in both hands and she felt his penis rubbing against her lips then he forced it into her mouth. Pulling her head forwards he pushed her face onto him, making her take the glans of his hard member further into her mouth. Michele gagged as the throbbing member forced its way past her lipsticked lips and into her moist opening.

"Suck my cock you mukhannath whore." he ordered.

He held her head with his cock half in her mouth until Michele complied and reluctantly started suckling him.

Michele gagged as his glans rubbed against her tongue and his shaft slid in and out of her lips. Saheed looked into her pretty face, tightened his fingers and forced Michele's mouth up and down on his cock. He moaned as she grudgingly sucked his turgid penis. Glancing down he could see how wide her heavily made up eyes were and watched as she kept fighting against the urge to gag. The look of terror in her eyes aroused him further.

Michele could hardly comprehend the enormity of what was happening to her. She listened to the groans and grunts of the strong, handsome Arab and the slurping and slapping of her lips, mouth and tongue against his penis as he defiled her mouth. She was almost catatonic as trancelike, she suckled the hard pulsing member invading her virgin mouth. At least she was no longer gagging.

Michele could sense that the man was now close to climax as he groaned and cursed and held her head tight is his hands whilst thrusting his invading manhood in and out of her mouth. She forced herself to open her eyes and watched transfixed as his groin pushed again and again against her face with quicker, shorter thrusts. His penis seemed about to burst in her mouth.

As she sensed the man's climax approach she could feel his penis swell, the tautness of his penis palpable as it trembled, close to ejaculation.

Michele suddenly felt the man's penis spasm and his semen ejaculated into her mouth. She tried hard to control her gag reflex as she swallowed each spurt as it erupted from the convulsing organ. His come tasted warm, bittersweet and musky. The man was face-fucking her and all she could do was swallow what he had to offer; it seemed like his orgasm was never going to stop.

He pulled his pulsating penis from her mouth and sprayed the last of his issue over her face and blouse.

"Take that you whore!" he groaned as his hot seed scalded her cheeks, dribbled down her neck and soaked her blouse.

Michele had begun to cry with humiliation; the taste of semen cloying in her mouth. She tried to spit and the man forced her mouth closed.

"Swallow it you cunt!" he laughed.

Michele complied and then slowly raised her head to look Saheed in the eye. She was about to speak when he raised his hand. Michele slammed her mouth shut and she winced in anticipation of the pain.

"Haha! You have learned your first lesson putta!"

Saheed rubbed his delating cock all over her face; smearing her makeup with his semen. He wiped his dripping penis on the collar of her blouse.

"Now you really look like a putta," he grinned.

"Sarina will attend to you and when you are ready she will present you to the Cabal. Heed her well and you will find your stay here tolerable. Heed her not and your stay will be, shall we say, nasty, very nasty as you westerners like to put it."

Saheed spun on his heels and strode out of the room slamming the door behind him; drowning out Michele's sobs.

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