Edward Pembroke - Slave Trader - Cover

Edward Pembroke - Slave Trader

Copyright© 2024 by Edward Pembroke

Chapter 41

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 41 - A man with a sleazy, perverted past but a particular set of skills, becomes Edward Pembroke. He is employed on a mission, to procure beautiful women and introduce them to a life of sex slavery against their will

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Teenagers   Coercion   Drunk/Drugged   NonConsensual   Rape   Slavery   Teen Siren   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Crime   Horror   Incest   BDSM   MaleDom   Humiliation   Rough   Sadistic   Snuff   Spanking   Torture   Group Sex   Harem   Anal Sex   Analingus   Double Penetration   Enema   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Spitting   Squirting   Voyeurism   Water Sports   Body Modification   Violence  

Ahmed Al-Masri entered the Royal Palace, once again envying the incredible wealth that royalty offered. The world’s press and human rights organizations tolerated a lot in the name of tradition, never questioning why the staff never seemed to be allowed out, or the rumored eunuchs who ran the place, or how they had become eunuchs in the first place.

Ahmed thought that soon, modernity would overtake this place, and he needed to position himself to take advantage. For now, though, indulging the Crown Prince’s disgusting and highly illegal appetites was too lucrative and beneficial to his ambitions to turn down.

The Crown Prince, Youssef Al-Wedeshdah, was a rotund man in his sixties, with a hooked nose and a graying beard that did little to soften his stern expression. His small, calculating eyes glittered with perpetual greed. Known for his immense wealth and unquenchable thirst for pleasure, every inch of him spoke of excess—rings with rare gems adorned his fingers, and his robes were trimmed with the finest gold embroidery.

Raised in luxury and spoiled from birth, he had a childlike demeanor, indulging in his every whim without concern for consequence. He had no interest in politics, seeing the world as his playground, where power only served to fulfill his hedonistic desires. His fondness for dark, illicit pleasures, particularly those of a sexual nature, made him a figure of both fear and disgust. Yet, he was first in line to the throne.

“Your Excellency, is everything alright?” Ahmed greeted his boss, the Crown Prince. “How are your new toys?”

“Yes, Ahmed, you serve me well, much better than I expected. These girls will entertain me for years! So much variety. My congratulations to the man you employed,” the Crown Prince said.

“Thank you,” said Ahmed.

“Now, I hope he is discreet, and perhaps, Ahmed, you can make sure he stays silent? For now, I might want more products from him! But be ready to terminate his retainer permanently. I do not want any trail leading back to me. I don’t like uncertainty and having to worry,” the Crown Prince continued.

“Of course, Your Excellency. Do not worry, your wish is my command. He is enjoying the money for now,” Ahmed replied.

“Well, keep an eye on him. For now, he is useful, but as soon as my need for him ends, so does he. Understand? I hope he enjoys the money in the meantime, however he earned it!” The Crown Prince licked his lips. “For now, I need to get back to my girls!” he concluded, turning away with a satisfied grin.

Ahmed left the Palace after reviewing the security, frustrated that even as head of internal security, the greedy Crown Prince would not let him glimpse his “toys.” The imposing black servants, hidden from the outside world, owed their loyalty to the Prince and wordlessly guarded the inner sanctum where the harem lived. Despite his high-ranking position, Ahmed was kept at a distance from the Prince’s most intimate indulgences.

He knew patience and cunning were required as he navigated his role, all the while positioning himself for the inevitable changes that progress would bring. The future income he expected from Pembroke’s other ventures, which he planned to keep secret from the Crown Prince, was an added incentive.

Ahmed realized that ending Pembroke might eventually be beneficial to both the Crown Prince and himself. For now, he would bide his time.

Back at the complex, Pembroke was beside himself with enthusiasm, making plans and excitedly plotting new ventures. He was therefore somewhat frustrated this excitement was not rubbing off on Sabine, whom he was filming for his commercial.

Sabine wore a summery light blue dress that hugged her tall, athletic figure snugly at the top, accentuating her large breasts without the need for a bra. The dress flared out playfully at the hem, stopping halfway up her long legs. She paired it with white trainers and socks. The dress featured a strappy top with a plunging neckline, giving her look a daring, flirty edge. Her makeup-free face glowed with natural beauty, and her wavy brown hair and blue eyes complemented her dress perfectly.

“You are really ruining the vibe with all this stuttering and forgetting your lines, Sabine. Have a bit more life in you! I thought you had practiced this thoroughly with Mrs. Parker!” Pembroke cast a frustrated look at the blonde overseer, who nervously feared she might be punished along with Sabine for her poor performance.

“I’m ... I’m sorry, Master ... but please, ... can I ask, is this ... really what I will be doing?” Sabine’s eyes began to water.

“I do not want to see any tears again, Sabine! I don’t want makeup, and I don’t want tear-rimmed eyes on film. If you are going to cry, I might as well make it worth your while again. What will it be this time? The rats? The water torture? The whip?”

“NO! NO ... please...” Sabine pleaded, her voice trembling. “I can do it ... I can...” She started breathing heavily, like she was having a panic attack. “I can do it ... I can remember the lines, please, Master, just no more...”

“Well, I look forward to a successful take then,” said Pembroke scornfully.”Action!”

Sabine shook her head and tried to pull herself together, forcing herself into the right frame of mind—the mind of a slave. This wasn’t just for the movie; it was for the rest of her life. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again, focusing on the camera. She reminded herself: she was a slave.

Sabine smiled at the camera, swishing her skirt as she twirled and giggled, flashing her teeth in a playful, carefree manner.

“Hi,” she giggled, placing her finger to her lips suggestively. “I’m Sabine! You may have heard about me. Don’t worry! I’m not really at the bottom of an alpine lake, I’m still alive, but a little ... different now.”

She paused, then shyly lifted the hem of her skirt, teasingly revealing a pair of pristine white panties before quickly pushing her skirt down and squealing with laughter.

“I’ve been trained to serve, to be the perfect slave for you. Your wife may annoy you, other girls may talk back, reject you, cause trouble. But I never will. I will be obedient, always! My wishes are your desires.” She licked her lips and winked provocatively.

Sabine turned around and bent over, letting the skirt ride up over her buttocks to reveal her white panties. She playfully wriggled her hips and looked over her shoulder, smiling provocatively. She gave her ass cheek a playful spank and sighed, her eyes widening with a mix of pain and pleasure.

“You can beat me, you can torture me, you can do anything to me! I’m not going to cry to the police or to my parents. I will be your personal property, your own toy, to play with as you wish!” She licked her lips again, her eyes narrowing in a sultry way.

She pulled her dress up over her arms and threw it down, exposing her svelte athletic figure, and rubbed her hands over her breasts.

Sabine glared into the camera, her eyes burning half with anger, and half with frustration. “It is the greatest privilege to own another human being,” she declared. “To control her life, play with her, dispose of her as you wish!”

With a swift, almost defiant motion, she slid her hands into her panties. She kicked off her trainers, then dexterously peeled her socks off using only her toenails.

“I was Sabine Muller,” she continued, her voice taking on a softer, almost pleading tone. “But whatever and whomever I will be in the future depends entirely on you. You can own me and take possession of my life and soul, for the rest of my days.”

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