Message-ID: <8226eli$9802071640@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: jaypee Subject: Starlet Slave 6-10 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Disposition: inline; filename="EL06-10.WRI" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <34DC44D2.13F5@KIVA.NET> THE STARLET SLAVE 6 Joy Paine Index words: strip s# With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which one -- after all, your tastes may be different. 6. The Examination Peck felt my tits again as soon as he got me into his office -- both hands, this time -- and then he told me to sit down. His voice really oozed as he pointed out that he didn't want to ruin my life by turning me in to the police -- a stigma like that could follow me to my grave, and he didn't want to bear the responsibility of destroying a fragile flower like me. And just think what the shock would do to my mother. She had suffered a severe heart attack last year when Dad was killed in that traffic accident, and a blow like this might finish her off for good. But, he went on, he couldn't let me off without any punishment at all -- that would be bad for my character -- and disastrous for his business if word got around. And he went on to tell me how hard it was to get the right kind of help these days, and maybe I'd be willing to work for him as a sort of penance? I assumed that he wanted me to work in the store -- shows how naive I was in those days. Well, the idea of being cooped up in the store, with his eyes -- and hands, I was sure -- all over me just about turned my stomach, but I would have agreed to just about anything to keep him from calling the cops. So he said OK, it was all agreed, but he'd have to have some kind of guarantee that I would keep my word. So would I sign this confession, like a good girl? It didn't occur to me at the time how fishy it all was -- his having the confession all ready and typed up and all -- but it wouldn't have made much difference to me if it had. I would have signed anything to get the Hell out of there and get a breath of fresh air. So I signed the damned thing without even reading it. That was my second mistake. And then he said would I please give him back the jewelry I had stolen? I started to unpin the brooch, and he interrupted me. Not that cheap stuff, he sneered -- he meant the really valuable stuff that was listed in the confession. As well as the other stuff that I had stolen from him over the past few weeks -- also listed in the confession. That's when I really started to panic. I wept and I begged and I sobbed that I hadn't taken anything else, and that I knew what he was trying to do, and he didn't answer, but just sat there and grinned at my tits the whole goddamned time. Finally, I ran down, and he started talking again. He didn't bother to deny my accusations -- Hell, we both knew better than that. And he said that the only way to prove that I was telling the truth was for him to search me. He wrapped his mouth around the word like a kid with a stick of candy. Now, if I wanted to go by the book, he went on, he could take me down to headquarters and have a police matron search me. But he assumed that I still wanted to avoid involving the police. So that left us with two alternatives. Either he could frisk me --and very thoroughly, he assured me, or I could hand him my clothes, one garment at a time, so he could check whether I had anything hidden in them. And he meant all of my clothes, he reminded me -- every last stitch. s# Well, he had me good. If I didn't want to call in the police -- and I didn't -- I had two choices. Either I stripped right down to the buff for him, or I let him have the feel of his life. I decided that being felt up would be even worse than stripping, so I started unbuttoning my blouse. He didn't even go through the motions of searching it. he just folded it and laid it on the desk, and waited for my skirt. And then he called for my bra. . . Believe me, that's when a girl really feels lonely -- when she's locked up with a dirty old man who's telling her to take off her bra, and she doesn't have any say in the matter. My fingers were shaking so I could hardly get the hooks undone, but I finally managed to work them free. It was a moment of sheer despair when the bra came away from my body and I felt the cold air on my tits. I held the bra in front of me for one desperate moment, while I wished the earth would open up and swallow me, and then I let it drop. Then I held my hands cupped over my tits as long as I dared, while I could feel his eyes boring through my fingers. He didn't try to rush me. The bastard was enjoying my embarrassment even more than the sight of my body. Finally, I realized that my modesty was just turning him on, and I forced my hands down to my sides, and let him look to his heart's content. And did he ever look! I was hoping that he would have a heart attack or something, but he didn't, of course. For some reason, it was easier to take my panties off than my bra had been. Maybe because the ice had already been broken, so to speak, maybe because he was so obviously a tit man, or -- who knows why? So there I stood, stark naked except for my sandals and my bracelet, while he enjoyed what may have been the best free show that he had seen in years. And then he started talking abut his "stolen jewelry" again, and allowed as how I must have hidden it in my asshole or my twat. Boy, did it ever get gross then! He made me spread my legs, and then he grinned at me while I had to spread my ass cheeks for him, and then my cunt lips. And then he had to feel for himself, of course. I was scared to death that he was going to ram his finger into me and break my cherry, but he just joked a little and made some vulgar comment like who was I saving it for. And he had a good time feeling of everything else while he was about it. He squeezed my tits again, too, but this time he really put his heart into it -- maybe because they were bare -- and I damn near fainted from the pain. Like I said, he was a real tit man. ======================================================= THE STARLET SLAVE 7 Joy Paine Index words: spanking s# With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which one -- after all, your tastes may be different. 7. Spanked I had been right abut one thing -- being felt up was even worse than the stripping had been. I just hadn't realized that the bastard was going to manage to get both. And then came the real eye-opener. Peck said, "OK, girls", and my three friends -- the ones who had talked me into this scrape -- walked into the room. Make that my three ex-friends. I realized then that the whole scam had been a put-up job, right from the top -- the whole schtick about the club had been a con just to trap me. And boy, had it ever worked! Well, it turned out that the girls had not only been watching the whole thing through a two-way mirror, but they had also been taking pictures of my whole ordeal. Video tape, too. And then they played the tape for my "entertainment" while I crouched in the corner, trying to cover myself with my hands.. Without the sound, and if you didn't know how Peck worked, it looked as if I was willingly stripping for him, and letting him feel me up and finger-fuck me, just for kicks. For his kicks, sure, but it looked as if I also had been enjoying it. My hesitation could have been coyness, and the blush in my cheeks -- sure, it could have been embarrassment, but it could also have been from sexual excitement. It was even more embarrassing, if that was possible, to watch the replay than it had been when I was actually stripping for the old goat. And the fact that I now knew that my "friends" were watching didn't make it any easier, of course. Like the true sadist that he was, Peck was paying more attention to my reactions than he was to the show. He cheered as each new goody came into view, making vulgar (but enthusiastic) comments about my anatomy, and speculating out loud on what my state of mind must have been at each new development. "And now for sure we don't have to worry about you going to the police," he gloated. "Not only do we have the shoplifting charge to hold over you, but these pictures show pretty well that you are trying to seduce me, and the authorities would feel that any complaint you might make would obviously be only an attempt at blackmail. "Plus which, I don't thank that you'd be anxious to have these pictures shown around town. Especially to your mother. In fact, I'm going to bet that these pictures will be enough incentive to keep you working for me, even though you might not be satisfied with the pay. Or the working conditions, either," he added slyly. "At least, pictures like these have been ample incentive for your three friends here." So now I knew. They were being blackmailed, too. I felt a little more forgiving toward them, now that I knew that they hadn't screwed me just for the Hell of it. Or for money. "And now," Peck said to the girls, "I think our little Ellen needs a bit of a spanking, to punish her for her misdeeds -- and to cure her of any rebellious thoughts. OK, girls, lend a hand. You know the routine." I fought like a wildcat, and I succeeded in making some ugly scratches on Rosie's arm, but I was no match for the three of them. Bit by bit, they managed to buckle a pair of straps on my wrists -- broad leather straps, lined with lamb's wool, so they wouldn't leave any marks, no matter how much I struggled. And I did struggle, believe you me! s# They stretched me across a sturdy wooden bench that was standing in the middle of the room -- a bench that apparently had been designed for just this purpose. Lying flat on my belly, I could just barely reach the floor with my toes. They fastened my wrist straps to a pair of rings at the side of the bench, with my arms stretched out over my head. Another pair of straps fastened my ankles to the legs of the bench. So there I was, legs spread to show everything I had, and my bare ass waving in the air. "Better put some antiseptic on those scratches, Rosie" Peck said. "And the rest of you fix the little minx so she won't scratch anyone else." It was no trick at all for the girls to clip my fingernails right down to the quick. Not too elegant a manicure, but pretty damned effective, as far as making my nails useless for defense. Then the old bastard walked around in front of me, so I could see what he was doing. And so he could watch the expression on my face as I realized what he had planned for me. Slowly, deliberately, he took off his belt. "Maybe this will teach you the error of your ways," he hissed. I lost track of how many times he brought that belt down across my naked ass -- I was too busy begging him to stop. I knew that it was going to be a long time before I wanted to sit down again. ========================================================== THE STARLET SLAVE 8 Joy Paine Index words: spanking s# rape r# With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which one -- after all, your tastes may be different. 8. A Plucked Duck s# Finally, he stopped and came around to my face again. "How about it, My Lovely?" he taunted. "Have you learned the value of good behavior yet?" My Lovely! How corny can you get? You could practically hear the audience booing and hissing while he twirled his mustache. But I wasn't about to press the point just then. I nodded a yes to his question, not trusting my voice after all that screaming. "The perhaps you'll kiss this nice old belt that whipped you?" Shit! That was asking too much, and I told him so. In rather indelicate terms, I'm afraid. I was just starting to tell him where he could stuff that nice old belt, when he nodded to the girls. "It appears that our little pigeon hasn't completely learned the value of obedience yet." He sounded happy about it. "I guess that you'd better turn her over, ladies." It was no trick at all for the three of them to unfasten the straps holding me to the bench, flip me over, and spread-eagle me again, this time with my cunt where my ass had been. And that point wasn't lost on me when I saw him start hauling the belt back over his shoulder for another stroke, I began to beg, and to promise that I would do anything -- anything he wanted. But he just chuckled and ticked my cunt with his finger. "Later on," he taunted. "Later on, you'll have lots of chances to do what I want. But for the moment . . ." He grunted with pleasure as he brought that belt down with all his strength, squarely between my outstretched thighs. I never knew that anything could hurt as much as that whipping hurt my cunt. Long before he had finished, I was ready to kiss that nice old belt, and to do anything else he wanted. And I told him so, again and again, between my sobs and screams. "That's really sweet of you, My Lovely," he crooned. "And, as I told you, I'll give you a lot of things to do for me. But first, there is one more delight for you to savor." Like I said, he was a tit man. He brought that belt down just one more time, and this time the agony in my cunt was nothing compared with the excruciating pain of that single blow. I think that I actually fainted for a moment. r# He waited until my head cleared a bit -- after all, he didn't want me to miss a moment of the "fun" -- and then he dropped that nice old belt to the floor, and started to drop his pants after it. I really got the picture then -- although, to be honest, I had suspected from the first moment he had tied me down that he was going to rape me before he was through. Cherry and all. And I didn't have any fight left in me. Even if I had not been immobilized and helpless, I wouldn't have been able to put up any effective resistance, after the brutalizing pain he had just put me through. And he knew that, too. I was a plucked duck, and he knew it. ======================================================= THE STARLET SLAVE 9 Joy Paine Index words: (none needed) With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which one -- after all, your tastes may be different. 9. Defloration The girls knew the routine -- they had been through it before, maybe many times. Without waiting for instructions, they unfastened my wrists, and moved the straps to my upper arms -- near the elbows -- and then proceeded to fasten them to the table, near my waist. So I could move my forearms, but not enough to defend myself, or anything. And I couldn't sit up, of course. My legs were still spread way apart, with my ass practically hanging over the edge of the table. And then Peck, who was completely naked by now, told me why they'd changed the straps on my arms. "I want you to rub your fingertips over my nipples while I fuck you," he rasped. "And here's why you're going to do it for me." His huge hands closed once more on my tits, which were still throbbing from the blow with the belt. He didn't have to squeeze hard at all. I agreed with him -- I wanted to co-operate. Meanwhile, one of the girls was spreading a lubricating jelly on the lips of my cunt, and working it inside, taking great pains not to break my cherry. Woe unto the careless slave girl whose errant fingers deprive the Great Man of his moment of glory! Peck took a fresh grip on my tits, and stepped between my thighs. He let go of my tits for a moment, so he could use his hands to spread my cunt lips and start his prick in the door, and then he teased me for a couple of beats, pushing gently on my cherry until he got the feel of it. After all, he probably didn't bust a virgin every day. And then he grabbed my tits again, and I knew that it was good-bye cherry time. Giving my tits one last vicious squeeze, he rammed right in. He was unnecessarily rough about it, of course. As I well knew by now, he was enjoying my pain and humiliation more than the fuck itself. And the fact that I was -- or rather, had been -- a virgin made it all the sweeter. He knew that he was destroying the dreams of my whole life. After a few strokes, he stopped, leaving it buried to the hilt, while he reminded me of what I should be doing with my fingertips. And why I wanted to do it for him. It didn't take many squeezes for me to get the message, and I gave him what might have been the best screw of his life. He thanked me when he had finished, with ironic politeness, and "promised" that I would be his best girl for the next few weeks. Thanks a bunch! I thought. "So", he went on, "you'll be all the more eager to help your little friends recruit more cunt for the club, to take my mind off you. Or maybe I should say to take my hands off you?" he laughed. Yeah, I could understand why my "friends" had been willing to trap me. Understanding doesn't always mean forgiving, though. I hated their guts, and promised myself that I would never give up until I found some way to get even with them. Peck knew what I was thinking, of course. And he knew that it was in his interest to keep us all hating one another, so we wouldn't gang up and find some way to break his hold on us. Divide and rule, as they say. And then he told Rosie to "do the honors". =============================================================== THE STARLET SLAVE 10 Joy Paine Index words: the Persuader p# enema e# With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which one -- after all, your tastes may be different. 10. The Persuader I'll give Rosie one thing -- she wasn't getting any pleasure from my troubles. But that didn't stop her from obeying old Peck. She went meekly over to a cabinet on the other side of the room, and brought back what I was going to come to know as the "Persuader". To come to know it all too well. It was an ugly thing -- it looked just like a man's prick, although it was a bit smaller than the tool that Peck had just stuck through my cherry. And it didn't take a great stretch of imagination to figure what Rosie was going to do with it. And I couldn't do anything to stop her, strapped as I was to the table. All I could do was squirm and moan as she stuck the goddamned thing into me. All the way in, so that my cunt lips closed over it, and it just disappeared. And then they untied me. My first thought was to get that fucking dildo out of my cunt. Not that it hurt, but the idea of carrying anything around in there was nauseating. So I reached in to pull it out. Never mind that they were all watching, like a flock of vultures. After all, they'd seen everything that I had. Nothing like a spot of rape to break down the walls of modesty. So I reached in, and got hold of the sides of it, and gave a tug. p# And screamed, and almost flew through the ceiling with the pain. The damned thing seemed to come alive, and start chewing on the walls of my cunt, hurting as if they were on fire. Old Peck laughed uproariously. It was great fun -- just like pulling the wings off flies. "Just a mild electric shock, my dear", he teased. "Just enough to discourage you from pulling it out. You see, it's very important for you to keep it in place, because your behavior is going to be influenced very strongly by that little gem. Here, let me show you." He held up the control box for me to see. "Works by radio," he explained. "Now watch what happens when I press this switch." I watched, and -- ZAP!! The shock was even worse this time. Peck gave one of those sadistic chuckles of his. "As I said, a mild electric shock. We can increase the intensity, if necessary -- bit by bit -- until you think it's burning a hole right through your little twat. It's set at about 30 percent now. Would you like to see what it feels like when we step up the power a little?" I screamed and pleaded and promised again that I would do whatever he wanted, only please don't turn the fucking thing on again. "Fine, my Lovely," he said."If you can remember that promise, you can save yourself a great deal of pain. And we'll give you a chance to show us the sincerity of your promise -- there are a lot of things we want you to do this afternoon. And later on." And then he handed the control box to Rosie, and told her to take me to the bathroom and "get the dirty part over with". e# Well it turned out that the "dirty part" that they had planned for me was an enema! Hell, this wouldn't be the first time that I had ever had an enema, but I was deathly afraid that this one meant that Peck was going to fuck me in the ass next. And that was the one thing in life that I wouldn't be able to take. Worse than the loss of my cherry, in fact -- far worse. I remember the first time that I learned that people did things like that, and I had nightmares ever since when I thought about it. And now it was going to happen to me . . . Well, Rosie didn't give me any time to think about it. The pain from that damned Persuader was strong enough to overcome even the pathological repugnance I felt at having things stuck up my ass. And anyway, Rosie wasn't equipped to fuck me there, of course. After she had finished, Rosie pointed out that I wouldn't have to worry about shitting my pants for a couple of days, and sure enough, she started putting some of that lubricating jelly into my asshole. Well, this is it, I figured. But then she took another Persuader, very much like the one in my cunt, only smaller, and started to stick it up my ass. "This'll let the old goat release your twat for active duty," she explained. I felt pretty nauseated at having that goddmned thing poked into me there, and I knew damned well what it would feel like when Peck turned on the current, but what the Hell -- it was a thousand times better than being fucked there. And I figured they wouldn't be doing that as long as the Persuader was in place. I was glad that they had given me the enema, though. That fucking dildo in my ass made me feel all the time as if I wanted to shit. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |