Chapter 6

I was led to the stage, but not up onto it. Much to my surprise I was placed on a small, raised platform beside the stage. Like the stage, my platform was bathed in strong lights from above and below. But I was left unmolested while the mother and daughter who have been escorting me stepped up onto the stage.

The music changed when they took the stage. It was no longer quiet chamber music. It was still quiet and sensual. But there was an undercurrent of drums, strong yet unobtrusive that was obviously meant to stir things up.

The woman removed the leash from her daughter's collar and they moved into a sensuous and incestuous embrace that they clearly were not enjoying. They did all the right things. But the look of horror on their faces made it clear how they felt about what they were being forced to do.

I shared their horror. I couldn't imagine what they must be thinking and feeling. I looked down at the patio in front of me to avoid that revolting forced performance. But only seconds passed before the large black man at the corner table had my throat in his strong grip. I gasped and looked up in fear and shock.

He hissed in my ear, "Do not look away again!"

No threats. No warnings. Just an order that he expected me to obey. And I did. I looked back up at the mother and daughter and didn't look away again.

I could also see the people at the tables closest to the stage. I saw the lust and the fascination. They loved this sick show! Even the women among them were staring, their faces gleaming with perverted lust! What kind of people were these?!

The two women on the stage caressed each other as if they were lovers. I wondered for a moment how many times they've been forced to put on this disgusting show. I wondered what happened to them when they finished. But most of all, I wondered why I was just standing here being forced to watch.

Surely they didn't go to all the trouble of cleaning me up and dressing me in this altered version of harem pants just so I could stand here and watch. What happens when the mother/daughter show comes to an end? There are probably close to thirty men in the audience. Are they going to go home with the hard ons that they are surely developing? I didn't think so. They didn't come here to be titillated. Or at least they didn't come here to be titillated and then leave horny.

The poor girls on stage moved into a sixty-nine and began to eat each other with a passion that never reached their eyes. It went on for a long time before they began to fake a series of loud orgasms. I could see from the expressions on the faces of the audience that they knew the women were faking and they hated what they were being forced to do. That was probably what excited the spectators so much.

After the fake orgasms there was a round of quiet applause which only seemed to add to the embarrassment the women were feeling. The daughter got up on her hands and knees facing the audience and her mother got to her knees beside her. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. The men and women in the audience, or at least most of them, were getting up from their tables.

I thought at first that they were leaving and a sense of relief washed over me. But after sliding their chairs in they began to move towards the stage. They gathered around and just stared down at the two women for a moment.

The eerie silence went on and on for a long time. I don't know what they were waiting for. I never saw any signal that indicated it was time for them to go on stage. But finally one of the men, a large, and by large I mean extremely obese white man stepped up on stage.

The man was very well dressed in an obviously expensive suit. But he was sweaty and looked somehow porcine. And I'm not referring to his big stomach. His facial features, even the expression on his face made me think of a pig in rut. He was absolutely disgusting.

He stood in front of the teenage girl and waited while her mother opened the man's pants and extracted his hard cock. She ran her hands up and down the shaft a couple of times and then presented it to her daughter's lips.

Although young, it was immediately obvious that the girl had been doing a lot of this in the past week. She took the man's cock into her mouth and then her throat with apparent ease. She sucked it enthusiastically while her mother lovingly caressed her daughter's hair and watched helplessly.

I was startled when for the first time I felt a hand caress my flesh. Two of the women guests had taken up positions on either side of me and were examining me as if I was a statue or perhaps a product that they were interested in purchasing. I noticed more of the women moving closer for a better look. The two women taking advantage of me now were both black. But it looked like all of the women in the audience were making their way closer.

One of the women was caressing my ass under the garment I was wearing. I wasn't certain what to call it. I've never seen anything like it before. She reached between my legs and teased my pussy for a moment before asking in a voice so quiet that I almost didn't hear her, "You've only been married for four days?"

I wasn't sure anymore. But that was close enough and I nodded.

"And you are only eighteen?"

I nodded again.

She said something to the other woman that I didn't understand and they both giggled like schoolgirls. Then they moved away and another woman took her place.

I was still watching the oral rape of the young girl on stage. It looked like the fat man was rapidly nearing orgasm. But before he could come in the girl's mouth something strange happened. The man tapped the girl on the head and she let his cock slip from her mouth. Her mother produced a glass and with her mother's assistance she finished the man off with her hand, masturbating him into the glass.

They milked is cock until nothing more came out and then she gave it a quick final suck. He stepped back, put his cock back in his pants and left the stage to quiet applause. How fucking weird is that?!

Another man quickly took his place. This time the man was black and in much better shape. Once more the mother freed his cock and brought her daughter's face closer. His cock was much larger than the first man's. Not as big as John's. But it was at least eight inches and it looked very fat. But the girl didn't even seem to notice how large it was. She wrapped her lips around it and took it right down her throat.

As I watched her sucking off the second man I started doing some math in my head. If it went on like this until all of these men got sucked off and came in that glass this could last until well into the morning.

Apparently I wasn't the only one that could multiply and divide. The girl was sucking on the third cock of the evening when one of the young waitresses was pushed up on stage by the man in the tuxedo. She didn't look much older than the girl already hard at work sucking customer's cocks. She didn't look any happier to be there, either.

The waitress dropped to her knees and was soon sucking on a cock. As soon as she was hard at work another young waitress was brought up on stage and then another. Soon two more followed and eventually there were five waitresses and the woman's daughter sucking cocks on the crowded stage. I doubt if the oldest girl up there was older than sixteen.

Besides their youth they all shared the terrified look on their faces. I had to assume that all of these women and girls are here against their will. Was this where I would spend the rest of my honeymoon? Or the rest of my life?!"

My mind was spinning constantly. As hard as I tried I couldn't shut it off. I couldn't help wondering why all those women were being abused that way and the worst thing that was happening to me was that a few women were feeling me up. That can't be what I'm here for. I'm sure I wasn't brought here to serve as a hand warmer for the female guests.

I also had to wonder why each time a man was about to cum he tapped the head of the girl sucking his cock and she masturbated him into a glass. I may be blonde but I'm not stupid. A horrible thought was forming in my mind and I couldn't make it go away. I watched as those glasses began to fill with the white slime that shot out of all those cocks and somehow I knew what was going to happen when the men were finished.

The pace increased quickly once there were six mouths at work. I started keeping track of how many men were going up on stage and cumming in the glasses. John and his friends were the last to take to the stage. They received a lot of attention, or at least John, Aray and Keon did when the audience saw their large cocks come out.

Including John and his five co-rapists I counted a total of thirty-eight men coming onto the stage and being sucked off before ejaculating into a glass. After the men all returned to their seats the mother and her very tired daughter collected all of the glasses and combined the semen into one oversized glass.

The man in charge took to the stage and took the glass from her hand. She and her daughter stepped back and the man held the glass up. It received a loud round of applause. The man smiled and then shot a meaningful look in John's direction.

John had remained standing behind me after he raped the mouth of the young girl with her mother's assistance. I watched, even though it made me ill. I was surprised that the girl had no trouble even with that massive cock.

John stepped closer to me and whispered, "One phone call and Mac is dead. Don't forget that."

Then he pushed me towards the stage.

I went around to the front of the stage and climbed the two steps. I knew what was going to happen. I just didn't think that I could do what that man was going to order me to do. Even with the life of my husband in my hands I wasn't sure. I was willing to try. I was willing to do anything to save my husband. But just thinking about what I was about to have to do was making my stomach turn over. I just didn't think I could do it!

The man grabbed my arm and pulled me close. He turned me to face the audience and with a huge, evil grin on his face he asked, "Do you have any questions?"

I sighed and shook my head.

He put the glass in my hand. I shivered in revulsion when I felt the heat of the contents through the glass. I nearly lost it again when I looked down at the huge volume of disgusting liquid and the bleachy smell wafted up and filled my nostrils.

The man stepped back and said, "You know what will happen to your young husband if you don't drink that. If you don't swallow it all and keep it down I am going to punish you. I will not stand for a slave who will not do what she is told or shows disrespect for her betters by not treating their cum with the proper respect. You may begin now. This is a timed event. You have two minutes."

I gagged even before I moved the glass. There was a ripple of quiet laughter from the audience and then silence. I became aware of time passing and told myself that I had to do this. I couldn't let them harm my husband. He may never speak to me again if we survive this week. But it's important that we both survive to catch that plane back to the States.

I took a deep breath and brought the glass to my lips. I carefully avoided looking down at the contents. I also tried very hard not to breathe through my nose. I tipped the glass up. It was full to within an inch of the rim and probably held at least forty-eight ounces of disgusting slime.

Even as I began to let that disgusting mixture fill my mouth it occurred to me that I couldn't swallow forty-eight ounces of a drink I enjoyed in the time remaining to me. I forced myself to start gulping it down as rapidly as possible. I had to slow down a couple of times as the gagging took over but even then I kept the glass at my lips and struggled to keep swallowing.

I couldn't think about the time. I doubted if I could accurately judge how much time was passing under these circumstances anyway. Instead I concentrated on remaining calm and swallowing as quickly as possible.

It was slow going at first. But as I progressed the gagging became less of a problem and the glass narrowed so that I seemed to be rapidly making my way to the bottom.

Those two minutes seemed more like two hours. But I finally emptied the glass and took it away from my lips. I don't know if I actually completed the task in the two minutes allotted. But if I didn't it was close enough that no one said anything about killing my husband.

Unfortunately, I only completed the first part of the task successfully. I stood there in front of all those people with the empty glass in my hand, aware that they were all watching to see if I'd be able to keep it down.

I tried. I tried so very hard. I felt my stomach churning and I felt that horrible mess like a live creature inside of me, struggling violently to get out. The taste in my mouth was nasty beyond description and the air all around me was permeated with the bleachy smell of cum.

I may have held out for a minute before I knew it was coming back up. I felt my stomach rebelling and I clamped down on it with my hands. I began to look around for someplace I could vomit with as little damage to their precious patio as possible.

They anticipated my failure and someone placed a bucket on the front of the stage. They knew this was going to happen and they were pleased. I saw it in their eyes. They wanted to see me punished!

I dove for the bucket and made it just in time. The only thing I had in my stomach was male ejaculate. Every bit of it came right back up and exploded into the bucket. I felt my body convulsing with the dry heaves for another minute or two before I finally put the bucket down. I covered my face and began to cry hysterically. I'm sure they found that amusing as well.

The bucket disappeared while I entertained the audience with my display of despair. They allowed me a few minutes of self indulgence before John pulled me up onto my knees by grabbing a handful of my hair and using it like a handle.

The man who seemed to be in charge of this house of horrors moved to the front of the stage and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, before we punish our new slave we have another amusing little show that I'm sure you'll all enjoy. The man who sold her to us sold her with the understanding that he would have the opportunity to separate her from her last virginity. He insisted on the opportunity to fuck her ass with his eleven inch cock. I thought you'd enjoy watching."

"Sold her to us!!" What the hell does that mean?! He said I could go home at the end of the week! He must mean sold me to them for the night. Please, god! I can't take much more of this!

There was another round of applause. They all seemed to think that watching John rape my ass would be entertaining.

My heart was in my throat. I was terrified already. I had no idea what sort of punishment I faced. I knew it would be unpleasant. But now it began to look like I wouldn't survive to be punished for not keeping all that cum down.

The huge woman that forced me to service her orally when I first arrived came waddling out through the patio doors. With her was the thoroughly broken white man in a sheer thong that had been fanning her in her office.

The woman made her way to what must have been a specially made lounge chair while her slave worked his way through the crowd to the stage. He came up the steps and John said, "Grease her up. But don't stretch her out. I want to do that with my dick."

He pushed me back down on my hands and knees and said, "Stay!" like I was a fucking animal. He was still holding me in place with a handful of my hair as if I might try to escape.

The man leaned over and began dabbing some kind of cool grease between the cheeks of my ass. He worked a couple fingers full through my sphincter and right up inside of me. I jumped when he touched me and again when his finger entered me. Even having that man's finger inside of me was uncomfortable. There didn't seem to be any way that John would be able to get his cock up inside of there! Not without seriously damaging my body.

John pushed the man out of the way and dropped to his knees behind me. He took his hand from my hair and grabbed onto my hips with both hands. The manager grabbed my hair and held my head up, presumably so that his audience could enjoy the fear and in a moment the agony that would no doubt be playing across my face.

John moved a little closer and began to run his massive cock through the crack of my ass. My eyes were closed to shut out the audience. I couldn't bear to see how much they enjoyed my torment. But even that small refuge was denied me. The manager reached down and pinched one of my nipples so hard that I screamed. He released it and snarled, "Keep your eyes open, you stupid cunt! Look out there. Your fans want to see every act of this little passion play."

John stopped sliding his cock through the crack of my ass and I felt the huge, spongy tip pressing against the opening. My eyes bulged open and I could clearly see all of those people holding their breath in anticipation.

He pressed against my small opening with so much force that it hurt and still it wouldn't go. I knew that my body was too small to take that thing inside of me back there. Unfortunately, I was the only one that realized it.

The pressure mounted until finally my muscles gave way and the head of his cock popped inside of me.

I screamed so hard it tore at my throat. It hurt even worse than last night when he finally managed to force it into my throat! It hurt so much that I very nearly lost consciousness. My mind and my body couldn't deal with that much pain.

I suppose that I'm not the first woman to suffer this fate on this stage. They were ready for me when my mind attempted to seek refuge in unconsciousness. Someone waved smelling salts under my nose.

When my vision cleared I saw that it was the young girl who, along with her mother had been co-stars in the early part of the evening's salacious entertainment. I saw the fear and sympathy mixed in her eyes. For just a few seconds I almost felt sorrier for her than for myself. She was so young to be subjected to this.

John stopped moving once the head of his cock entered my body. He gave the others enough time to make certain I would remain conscious and aware. Everyone wanted to be certain that I was wide awake and fully able to appreciate the unbelievable pain.

I was all too aware of the pain now. I was sobbing hysterically and attempting to plead for mercy, mercy that I knew didn't exist. I felt John tense up and stab another several inches of his fat cock into my ass and I screamed again.

I knew that he was tearing me back there. It felt like he was driving a hot poker into me. I'm not sure which was worse, the cattle prod or that monstrous cock that was tearing me in half.

He gave me a few seconds to calm down and catch my breath and then he drove another couple inches into my guts.

Just before I passed out again I saw the lust crazed faces that surrounded me. I sank into merciful blackness again. But of course they wouldn't permit that. I came around again with the smelling salts under my nose. I choked and gagged and then struggled to catch my breath. My lungs were burning from the ammonia as she continued to hold that awful stuff under my nose until they were certain I was fully conscious.

I felt John pushing again but it seemed like he was hitting something inside of me, a barrier of some sort. Each time he pushed against it the pain in my stomach was nearly as bad as the pain in my ass.

He wasn't deterred. He drew back and slammed into me with so much violence that there was no longer any question in my mind that I was about to die. He buried the last few inches of his cock inside of me and I knew that soon the blood from whatever he had torn inside of me would begin running down my legs.

I didn't think they would care. But now that I thought about it, maybe it was for the best.

Now that the path was opened, John began to fuck my ass immediately with brutal, painful, mind shattering strokes that were each more painful than the last. It went on and on for what seemed like hours before my body and mind began to go numb to the abuse.

I was conscious and staring blankly at the large audience of perverts. I noticed that most of the slave women were on their knees now, sucking the cocks of the men and even eating out some of the women guests. And everyone's eyes were staring directly into mine.

John finally achieved his orgasm, though I didn't realize it. Not at first. It was a moment before it registered on my abused mind that he had stopped moving and was leaning over me raining down sweat on my back in the warm, humid night air.

I almost didn't feel it when he slowly removed his cock from my tortured body. I felt like I was still stretched wide open back there. I waited for the blood to flow freely now. There was a small trickle of moisture after a minute or so. But I looked down at my thigh and saw that it was clear.

I wasn't bleeding!

I continued to stare, certain that my life's blood would begin to flow from me at any moment. Nothing!

John got to his feet and the manager guided my mouth to his slimy cock for cleaning. As horrible as I know that onerous task sounds, it was actually less disgusting than when they made me suck their cocks after they fucked my pussy. His cock was still slick with the lubricant from my ass. But that was the worst thing I encountered as I licked and sucked his cock and balls clean.

They gave me plenty of time to do a good job and then the manager pulled me to my feet, still using my hair for a handle. John left the stage to a stirring round of applause and rejoined his friends beside the stage.

Keon stepped on stage when the applause died down. I assumed that he was going to be the next rapist to take my ass. If only that had been the case!

The manager pulled me to the side of the small stage. Keon stood on the other side of me. The audience moved back and a procession of naked white men began filing onto the patio from behind us somewhere.

I was startled when I saw them. I only had to look into their eyes to know who they were. I saw the despair, the desperation and the hopelessness and I realized that they were the husbands and fathers of the girls and women who were being abused by the men here.

The first four men were carrying a large wooden cross. The other men were carrying padded benches. The men with the cross struggled with it. It was obviously very heavy. It became obvious that they were bringing it to the stage. Just when I thought I couldn't get any more frightened they proved me wrong.

The men struggled up onto the stage with the enormous cross and carefully set it up. The other men were lining the benches up around the stage. Once the benches were in place they stood up, looked around, searching out a particular woman. It was obvious that they were looking for their wives and daughters in the crowd of abused women.

I watched as they each located their woman and led her to the bench. The women were placed on the benches on their backs. A wide, leather strap around their abdomen held them in place.

The naked white men took up a position, kneeling beside the bench with their woman on it. It looked like many of the men had tears in their eyes. But they were all broken, just like I was broken. We couldn't fight these horrible people. No one could. We have all learned that lesson well, though judging from some of the bruises and welts that many of the men were now covered with they didn't learn it easily.

The men in the audience began sorting themselves out and within moments they were each standing at a bench, slowly working their cocks into the helpless women on the benches.

That was the signal. That was what the manager was waiting for. He led me to the cross and held me with my back to it. My arms were lifted into place and strapped to the rough wood of the cross at my wrists, my elbows and just below my shoulders.

I wasn't going anywhere. But they weren't finished. Another strap went around my abdomen and another fastened my feet to the bottom of the cross. It wasn't until that moment, with my ass pressed against the rough wood of the cross that I wondered what Keon was doing on stage if he wasn't going to rape my ass.

In my mind's eye I could still see his eyes when he was pressing the point of his knife into Mac's cheek last night. Suddenly I found myself wishing that he was going to fuck my ass. I knew that whatever they had planned was going to be far worse than another big dick up my ass.

The manager called one of the few women who weren't restrained to a bench up onto the stage and pushed her to her knees in front of him. She took his cock into her mouth and throat instantly and after a sigh of pleasure he said, "Let the punishment begin."

Keon took a couple of steps closer to where I was bound tightly to the cross, totally helpless. I saw the look on his face and I knew that something very, very bad was about to happen to me. I looked into his glazed over eyes and I saw bloodlust. This wasn't about sex. Or at least for normal people it wasn't. He was about to do something awful to me, something painful. For him it would be sexual, I suppose. But it wasn't going to be about intercourse or any other kind of sex. He was going to get to enjoy a rare opportunity to torture a woman. I saw it in his eyes.

He leaned close and lapped my face like a dog before whispering, "I can taste your fear. I'm so turned on right now I'm probably going to spray your belly with cum in about a minute. A guy told me about doing this to a cunt he kidnapped once. He kept it up for days, doing one or two at a time until the bitch lost her mind. I was so turned on hearing about what he did that I had a hard on for a week afterwards. I went out and raped three girls that week and I still couldn't get rid of my hard on.

"You probably aren't going to enjoy this. But I wanted to make sure you understood how much I will."

He stood to the side so that he wouldn't block the view of the audience. He began pulling and twisting my nipples. It wasn't foreplay. I was certain that he was going to damage my sensitive flesh. He clamped down on a nipple and pulled it straight out, stretching it grotesquely. It was extremely painful. I was quickly crying and pleading with him to stop hurting me. I promised him anything if he would just stop. Even as the words left my mouth I knew that they were empty, meaningless. He could already make me do any disgusting thing that sprang to mind now.

He only smiled that cruel, feral smile that you knew you would never see on the face of a sane person.

One of the slave girls came up on stage carrying a small table. She set it down beside me but I couldn't see what was on it. I don't think I could have been more terrified if I did see what she brought him, though. The only thing keeping me from collapsing to the stage were the straps holding me in place.

Keon stopped torturing my nipples. He lifted my chin and turned my face towards his. I couldn't see him through my tears. But I knew what I would see if I did. I was better off not seeing that look on his face. I was scared enough as it was.

His fingertips caressed the flesh of my breast for a moment. His touch was soft and tender, the way a breast should be touched by a lover. My vision was so blurry from the tears that I didn't realize he had picked up a long, thick needle. My first clue was when he started pricking my sensitive flesh with the sharp point. He moved it all over both of my breasts for several minutes. Most of the time he was careful not to actually break the skin. But every third or fourth jab carried enough force to break through. There were dozens of little spots of blood forming where the point of the needle was driven deep enough to break the skin.

But as horrible as what he was doing was, what bothered me more was that I knew he was just toying with me. The needle was some sort of knitting needle from hell. It was more than a foot long and looked like it was an actual knitting needle that someone had sharpened to a fine point.

I somehow knew that he was just teasing me now. Soon he was going to drive that needle into my flesh!

It struck me for just a second that including the slave girls and their husbands and fathers there were more than a hundred and twenty people out here on this patio witnessing this torture. But the only sound was my sobbing and my wordless pleas to be set free. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath. We all shared a secret. We all knew that he was going to stab me. He was going to puncture my flesh with that sharp needle.

I had just about reached the point that I wished he would go ahead and do it. Just get it over with! His thumb and finger closed down on my nipple once more and stretched it out the way he had been doing before he started pricking me. Then, slowly, deliberately, he placed the point against the very base of my elongated nipple and began to gradually apply pressure.