Chapter 4

“Yes, Saffeea, take it!” Nadim roared, his voice filled with raw passion as he drove into his teenage niece with relentless energy. She was on all fours, her petite body glistening with sweat, every thrust making her quiver. He gripped her hair firmly, guiding her like a wild steer as he pounded into her, his movements powerful and urgent. The sharp crack of his hand against her bony buttocks echoed in the room, a sound that fueled his desire even more. With each thrust, he watched with intense satisfaction as his cock slid in and out, only to bury itself to the hilt once more, sending her into a chorus of grunts that spurred him on, his enthusiasm growing with every moment.

Saffeea still hadn’t gotten used to the relentless, sword-like thrusts that speared her insides with such force it felt as if her very core was being violently rearranged. Each withdrawal created a suctioning pull, only for him to drive straight back inside her with unwavering ferocity. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her teeth, her eyes watering from the repeated, brutal impacts.

“UUUUGH,” Nadim groaned, holding himself back from cumming. He pulled out abruptly and grabbed her roughly, yanking her face towards his throbbing cock. “Come on, suck my cock—taste your pussy!” he demanded.

Saffeea turned around, her expression a mix of confusion and exhaustion. She was struggling to keep up, her mind and body both in disarray. As she moved, her hand instinctively went to her aching pussy, trying to soothe the rawness left by the relentless pounding. Her other hand rested on her stomach, pressing down as if to ease the churning turmoil within. The whip marks on her back were stark reminders of the brutal first week of her captivity, a testament to the relentless torment she had endured. The swelling over her left eye further spoke of the harsh punishments inflicted for any disobedience. She was drained, aware that any failure to comply with these carnal demands would lead to swift and merciless punishment.

And so, Saffeea meekly opened her mouth. She allowed Nadim to guide her, her lips parting as she took his cock in her mouth, her mind a haze of submission and survival. The rawness in her pussy still throbbed, but she focused on the task at hand.

Nadim was just as brutal with her mouth as he had been with any other of her orifices. He thrust in and out with relentless force, driving himself deep, his cock aimed downward as if trying to reach her throat and invade her windpipe. He reveled in her desperate struggles to breathe, pushing her to the brink before finally pulling out and allowing her a moment to gasp for air, only to plunge back in again.

He knelt back, watching as trails of saliva dripped from her mouth while she desperately gasped for air, her hand clutching her sore throat. “Now, the last hole,” he commanded with a cruel edge in his voice. “Get back on all fours. I’m gonna fuck that sweet ass!”

“Pl ... please, I can’t breathe...” Saffeea choked out, her voice raspy and filled with pain as she struggled to speak, her throat raw and aching.

“You can breathe, come on, Saffeea,” Nadim urged, his patience thinning as he slapped her left ass cheek sharply. “Part those cheeks.”

He took a moment to savor the sight before him—the contrast of her pussy and her tight, puckered hole, the intoxicating aroma of sweat and juices rising like steam from her crack. With a satisfied grin, he pushed his cockhead against her still-tight anus, feeling the resistance of her body.

“Noooo,” Saffeea wailed, her voice tinged with desperation.

“Breathe out, breathe out; it will hurt less,” Nadim instructed, his tone firm yet almost mocking as his cock was slowly engulfed by the expanding ring of her reluctant flesh.

“Oooooowww, it still hurts,” Saffeea cried out.

Nadim was only encouraged by this and pulled his cock right out, watching as her anus gaped and then slowly retreated to a narrow hole. He then plunged it back in until his balls pressed against her wet, warm pussy as his cock disappeared deep inside her rectum. With a mighty roar, he came deep inside her guts, spanking her one more time and leaving a deep red handprint on her skin.

Sighing, he pulled his now flaccid cock out and idly ran his finger over her sphincter as it slowly returned to its normal size, curious about the process, while Saffeea kept her face buried in the pillows, sobbing.

Nadim, still fueled by his depravity, brought his mouth to her asshole, sealed it with his lips, and sucked loudly until he could taste his own cum traveling out of her back passage into his mouth. Holding it in, he pulled Saffeea up by the hair until her face was upright, forced her jaws open, and spat the cum mixed with the remnants of her insides into her mouth. “Swallow it all!” he ordered.

Saffeea swallowed, hating the sticky, salty liquid, but at least it meant some respite for her abused holes, for now.

Nadim lay back down, exhausted but content. He pulled Saffeea over his body to cuddle, his hand resting between her buttocks as she lay on his chest.

“I’m flying out tonight, with Rania. She’s finally on her way to her owner, so you’ll be spending tonight in the cell,” he said thoughtlessly. Saffeea closed her eyes and moaned. “Uncle, does that mean I can see her before she leaves?”

Nadim slapped her ass hard. “It’s Master Darwish, remember. And maybe, but I doubt you’ll be able to talk to her. She’s getting prepared now to spend half a day in a box. Was it nice to see her here? Has it helped you?”

Saffeea had endured a whirlwind of abuse and a cacophony of sexual, physical, and psychological torture, not least of which was being forced to witness and participate in depraved acts with her own sister.

“How can you do this to your own family, your own blood?” she finally asked.

“Easy. It turns me on,” Nadim replied. “I always wanted to fuck my sisters, even my mother, your grandmother, so this is pretty mild” he laughed. “And our family is full of bastards. They always mistreated me. This is my revenge on my brothers and sisters! I am taking their children, one by one.”

“I hope you get found out, Nadim. You know, all the stories about you turned out to be false—you are far, far worse than anyone could even imagine. But you will be found. They were already looking for you; you cannot hide if you’re flying around all the time.” Saffeea spoke with a detached, cool manner now, as if she no longer cared about the consequences.

“Well, you’ll be the last to know, darling,” Nadim taunted her. “In a few months, we’ll have more money from selling you, and you’ll live out the rest of your life in some wealthy brute’s sex dungeon. So imagine all you want, if it helps you cope with the reality of the fun and games you’ll be forced to endure.”

Saffea had her eye on a knife that was peeking out of a drawer, she wondered how sharp it was, and if this was a test. The men loved to play games with the girls, to give them false hope even if it was just the promise of a tab of chocolate.

“I suppose I might get Rania in here one last time,” Nadim mused, letting his index finger rest on her sore anus. “I think your bumhole might be ready to take a girl’s fist by now. Perhaps your last memory of each other can be her pushing her entire hand up your ass—haha.” With a sudden burst of inspiration, he got up and slipped on his dressing gown.

“I’ll be back,” he winked. “Why don’t you start by fingering that cute little asshole? It’ll get stretched even wider soon by Rania!” He laughed cruelly before slamming the door shut behind him.

Saffeea’s entire body tensed as she felt her anus pulse with dread at the thought of the impending violation. Then her gaze fell on the knife again. She had to do something—her life was shattered, her honor destroyed, and with two daughters already lost, her family would never recover, even if they managed to escape.

A few minutes later, Rania was led naked by her over-eager uncle, who was intent on one final, disgusting act of incest. As she was marched forward, Rania couldn’t help but think of how much she would miss her sister, clinging to the slim hope that she might reunite with her if she ever managed to escape.

Nadim unlocked and opened the door, and Rania’s scream filled the air as she took in the horrifying scene. Saffeea lay motionless on the bed, naked, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. A knife lay beside her, and blood was still oozing from the deep cuts on her arms, staining the sheets and her body.

Nadim cursed loudly, rushing to her side, trying in vain to wake her and stop the bleeding from the gaping wounds on her inner arms, but it was too late—Saffeea was dead.

“Don’t beat yourself up too badly, Nadim,” Pembroke consoled him. “At least she wasn’t reserved for a client. It would be very embarrassing to have to explain that a product had suddenly expired before delivery.” “I’m sorry, boss. I know she was valuable. I was so careless,” Nadim replied, his voice filled with regret.

“Yes, let that be a lesson to all of us,” Pembroke said. “Well, she was your niece, and there are plenty more apples on the tree, so to speak...”

“Oh yes, boss,” Nadim responded apologetically. “Don’t worry, I will help you get many more of my nieces. There are about seven or eight ideal candidates, and then we can move on to cousins!”

“Poor Grandfather Darwish,” chuckled Pembroke. “He will wonder what is going on!” he laughed.

The two men had dragged Saffeea’s corpse into the hall and put it on display in front of the girls in the cell. Beside them was a black box, inside of which was Rania, ready to be delivered. Within the box, she was curled up in the fetal position, tied and restrained, blindfolded, gagged, and wearing earmuffs. For the next 12 hours, she would be unable to move, forced to think of her dead sister as the foremost memory on her journey.

The girls in the cell screamed at the sight of their dead cellmate, their reactions a chaotic mix of praying, cursing, and desperate cries. Some huddled together, shaking in fear, as they had never seen a dead body before.

“Now, ladies,” Pembroke began, his voice casual, almost bored, as he strolled in front of the cell, locking eyes with each terrified girl through the clear glass. “Rather unpleasant business, this. I’m sorry you had to witness it—truly. You’ve all been good girls, after all. But you see, Saffeea made the mistake of thinking she was above this place.”

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. “You are all my property, to be trained and sold as such to your future owners. You are chattels, things. Remember that!” He raised his finger in a lecturing gesture.

“As my property, and the property of others, you have no rights over your own bodies. Any attempt to mark yourselves or diminish your beauty and value will be met with severe punishment. Saffeea may have thought she could escape that by ending her own life, but she was mistaken.”

Pembroke glanced up at the wall of the cell, where pictures of the girls’ loved ones were displayed. “Do you see those pictures above you? Let me show you how real my vengeance can be. Saffeea, in her selfish act of ending her life and depriving me of her use, has ensured that her family will now suffer for her actions. As recompense, and as a lesson to you all, her family will pay the price. Soon, more members of her family will be brought here to replace her, adding to my stock.”

He let the weight of his words linger, his gaze sweeping across the room. “And for those of you who think there are no more pretty females left in your families ... remember this: it’s much easier to end someone’s life inexplicably and get away with it than it is to spirit away a pretty girl. So don’t entertain any foolish notions about putting yourselves beyond my use, and that includes when you are with your future owner!”

The girls were struck dumb by his chilling threat, their faces pale with fear as Saffeea’s lifeless body was lifted and carried away. “Shall we take her to the incinerator?” Jamal, his henchman, asked.

“No, the freezer, for now,” Pembroke replied, a cold smile playing on his lips. “Even a dead girl can be of some use. Let’s keep her around for a while.”

Victoria Carter was practically beaming as she strolled through Harrods with her daughter Alice. She was in a bubbly mood, her steps light as she thought about the money she might squeeze out of that awful Julia Duncan, especially with a little help from Fatima Soniya.

“Darling,” Victoria said with a mischievous grin, turning to Alice, “why don’t we try on some swimsuits for our Ibiza holiday?”

“You just want to show off your body, Mummy,” Alice teased, laughing.

“And why not?”

“Is Daddy not coming?”

“Daddy’s too busy, as usual,” Victoria sighed, though she didn’t seem too bothered. “But that just means more fun for us girls!”

Victoria playfully nudged Alice toward the bikini section. “What do you think of this one?” she asked with a wink, holding up a tiny purple string bikini against her summer dress, complete with daring thong bottoms.

“Mummy, that barely covers anything!” Alice giggled, her cheeks flushing.

“Exactly! It’s perfect for you! You’ve got a fantastic figure, darling—just like your mother!”

“No, Mummy—I want something more like this,” Alice said, holding up a sleek one-piece swimsuit. “You know, like those Olympic divers wear.”

“Fine,” Victoria sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “But at least let your midriff show! We can’t have any tan lines ruining our fun. Maybe we’ll find some topless beaches...”

“Mummy!” Alice gasped, utterly scandalized.

“Oh, come on, Alice! You’re almost 14—it’s time to start dressing like a grown-up!” Victoria teased, grabbing another thong bikini and mentally adding a waxing session to their plans.

“I just want to go somewhere safe,” Alice said, still shuddering at the memory of the riot and the attack.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Victoria cooed, already savoring the thought of her revenge against Julia Duncan. “Nobody messes with my baby girl.” She kissed Alice’s soft blonde hair and reached behind her.

“Ow, Mummy, what are you doing?” Alice exclaimed, grabbing her mother’s hand as it reached around her bra strap.

“I’m just checking your size, darling! I wouldn’t want to get you the wrong bikini,” Victoria said with a grin, completely at ease as she carefully read the label. Meanwhile, Alice’s cheeks flushed bright red, embarrassed as her mother casually reached down her top in the middle of the store.

“Gosh, Mummy, you really are the limit!” Alice laughed as her mother grabbed a few more bikinis and led her by the hand to the changing rooms.

The offices of Majesty Law Services were not quite as majestic as the name suggested. Julia Duncan found herself in a modest South London legal firm, tucked above a laundrette, to consult with her second lawyer—the one she turned to when she really needed help.