Chapter 28

Dilan and Cassie reacted very differently to their brutal treatment after being captured.

Dilan never stopped screaming and shouting and clawed Kwame’s face as he raped her, resulting in a slap that left her with a black eye. None of the men felt comfortable putting their cock in her mouth without an 0-ring gag, though when they did Dilan’s throat was fucked so thoroughly that she coughed up blood afterward.

Cassie had cried non-stop for hours after the shock of finding out who Edward Pembroke really was. Meekly, she had surrendered to the non-stop rapes in every orifice, even trying to perform oral sex as best she could and apologizing through tears when the men had taunted her for her poor oral skills.

The journey to the complex was smooth and not so long. Dilan was angry and defiant when she saw the line of naked girls in the cell when her new life was shown to her. Cassie just collapsed on the ground shaking with fear at the dead faces.

Dilan was naked and positioned in the middle of the hall, her body tightly restrained with rope. The rope was wound securely around her thighs and ankles, effectively binding them together and causing each leg to bend double, with her heels against her buttocks. Her arms were pulled behind her back, with rope intricately wrapped around her wrists and arms, securing her hands to the corresponding elbow in a painfully tight position. Forced to kneel, Dilan felt the tightness of the ropes constricting her every attempt to move.

All thirteen girls were out of the cell and lined up in a row, each forced to adopt a submissive pose. They sat on their knees with their buttocks against their ankles, knees apart, hands placed on their thighs with palms facing up. Their backs were straight, and their heads held high, looking straight ahead, as Dilan knelt in her uncomfortable position in front of them in the middle of the hall.

At the side of the hall, Cassie was strapped to a table, facing up and witnessing the macabre scene. Mrs. Parker stood beside her, preparing the electrolysis machine. She was dressed in a Halloween-style nurse’s outfit that barely contained her voluptuous figure, with her ample breasts and curvaceous ass spilling out of the obscene dress.

Mrs. Al-Haraz walked in front of the row of kneeling girls, with Dilan positioned in the middle, lecturing them while twirling her cane. Her high-heeled PVC boots clicked against the floor, and she wore a black PVC thong and matching basque that exuded dominance. Even Dilan was cowed by the snarling, half-burnt, scarred side of her face.

“All right bitches!” she sneered with a grin “This arrogant stuck up bitch thinks she is above being a slave, she thinks she will defy our rules and defy the Master. What do we say to that?”

The girls remained silent.

“These bastards cannot do this!” Dilan shouted at them. “Camille?” She looked at the redhead, the girl she had looked into, who had disappeared during the shoot of the movie “Karim” had been involved in. “Camille LeClerc, I know about you! People are looking for you, and they will find you!”

Mrs. Al-Haraz approached and struck Dilan across the face with her cane, the sickening sound echoing through the hall. Dilan toppled backward, landing on her back.

“Shut up bitch! You don’t talk, or you get hit!” Mrs Al-Haraz wanted to whip every piece of flesh off the rich little bitch’s back.

In the corner, Pembroke coughed and ruffled his newspaper, the subtle sound commanding immediate attention. Without looking up, his quiet authority filled the room. Mrs. Al-Haraz straightened in deference to her Master’s presence.

“Dilan, these girls disappeared months ago, most of them. There is no investigation. You yourself were buried a few days ago. Thousands attended your funeral.”

He clicked a button on a device, and a screen displayed Arabic TV footage of a funeral in Beirut, where thousands mourned the young influencer.

“You see, you are dead, Dilan, and so are these girls. Your new life is as a slave, that is all. Now, I expect you to obey Mrs. Al-Haraz. She is not to be trifled with.”

The girls remained in their poses, even Camille. They had been waiting weeks and months for rescue, but none had come. Instead, new girls were constantly being brought in. In addition, it had become clear that Zara had been killed or somehow disposed of. Her sister and cousins were forced to mourn her while being casually beaten whenever they begged to know where she was. They were only told that she was no longer around and that they would never see her again.

Dilan lay back, acutely aware of how exposed she was, her pussy open to the room as Mrs. Al-Haraz stared hungrily down at her.

“No ... NO! I will never give in to you!” Dilan shouted.

“Okay, first bitch ... Elena, come forward. Crawl here and get your face between Dilan’s legs,” commanded Mrs. Al-Haraz.

Elena tried not to look at the brave Lebanese girl, instead keeping her eyes on the ground as she crawled submissively. Approaching Dilan, she saw her knees in the air, with her shins tied to her thighs. The legs were clenched tightly together for modesty but her pussy was clearly visible. Shame washed over Elena; she wished she could support Dilan but knew it was futile.

“Elena, you will lick Dilan’s pussy for twenty minutes. All you bitches will, one after the other. That will be just over four hours of licking pussy! Elena, you better work good. I want to hear less complaining and more moaning from Dilan!”

Elena tried to forget about the brave, ambitious girl she had been just a month or so ago; thinking about it would only bring more misery. She wiped away a tear, realizing how tragic it was that this would be her advice to Dilan when she finally got to speak to her.

She put her hand between the Lebanese girl’s thighs and locked eyes with her as her face moved south toward her pussy. Dilan looked at her with a mix of pleading and incomprehension. “Why? Why are you doing this?”