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From: spoonbender@hotmail.com (Theodore Spoonbender)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 13 Apr 2001 11:35:45 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} **New Spoonbender Story - Kallie(nc, sexslave, spanking)
Date: Sat, 14 Apr 2001 06:10:04 -0400
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Kallie (nc, sexslave, spanking)

******************************************************************** 
(c)2000 Spoonbender. A short story of an adult nature. Not to be read
by minors. If you don't like stories where young ladies are taken
advantage of or you are underage then don't read it. Contains very
graphic descriptions of non consensual sex and corporal punishment. 


Can be freely distributed as long as it is not changed, including this
heading, and you tell me the URL if it is put on a website. If it is
to be archived on a fee paying archive then please email me first for
permission. 
 
Please email me with comments, constructive criticism, fantasies you
want put into words etc. Don't flame me if you don't like the content
or you don't like my style. Spoonbender@hotmail.com if you wanna
correspond. Ladies especially welcome.

This story is fantasy. In other words it ain't true. None of it. Ok.
If you don't know the difference between fantasy and real life then I
suggest you seek urgent therapy.
 
********************************************************************* 

Kallie expertly swung her Porsche into her apartment building's
underground parking lot and seconds later killed the motor. She sat
ensconced in the leather seat for long minutes as she went over the
day's events.

She smiled thinly in satisfaction at putting one over on the two
fellow marketing executives today. Both of them had been older, more
experienced and ripe for promotion. But a series of dirty tricks,
anonymous emails and whispered innuendo had put paid to their future
career prospects. It had been a moment of sweet triumph for her, after
months of preparation, and she was within an inch of at last being
able to slide into the company's marketing vice president job, being
left vacant on the retirement of the present incumbent. Then she'd be
able to indulge in all kinds of retribution for the slights both
imagined and real that she had suffered during her meteoric rise to
the top.

She knew that the men in the department resented her both for her
looks and her age. At barely 29, and in 6 short years, she had stormed
up the corporate ladder using a heady cocktail of allure, brains and
grim determination. Licking and kicking asses in equal measure and
using her god given charms to woo the board members and ultimately the
president of the company.

She contemplated the final assault, when she was going to assume the
presidency herself, when she managed to topple Bob Sayger from his
comfortable executive leather swivel chair and his prized rosewood
desk. She was going to enjoy this.

She'd already managed to compromise him, without him knowing, and had
at her disposal a fat file listing the precise details of the Xanos
deal. The deal that siphoned a handy $4 mill straight into Bob's
offshore bank account. No-one knew she had it and it was only by luck
that it had fallen into her hands at all. A carelessly encrypted file
in an obscure directory on the company network had piqued her interest
and she had doggedly followed the trail until it finally wound up with
the President's fingerprints all over it.

Ok she'd had to give her body to that bespectacled nerd in the IT
department in order to get the decryption software but she intended to
make him pay for that, along with Bob and the other putative castrati
in the company.

Once she was in charge. 

Which wouldn't be too long.

She had already whispered in the ear of a couple of the major
shareholder's ears. It would only take a few weeks to get to the
others then it was all hers for the taking. She could have hugged
herself in anticipation.

But tonight she was going to celebrate, alone. It was friday night and
she intended to savor the day's triumph curled up in her favorite
chair in front of her tv. She swung her long slim legs out of the car
and reached over for the bottle of Veve Clicquot from the passenger
seat. And while she was thus distracted they struck.

The first she knew of the attack was when the chemical soaked rag was
forced over her nose and mouth. She fought blindly but her trim 120
pound body was no match for the powerful arms that gripped her or the
ham like hand that held the rag to her face.

Struggling blindly her struggles became weaker as the chemical fogged
her brain.

Then she passed out.

________________________(c) 2000 Spoonbender
_____________________________

There are places where the dreams of many intermingle with the
nightmares of a few.

Hell and heaven become one in such places.

Such a place might feature plain but grubby cinderblock walls and a
thin, stained mattress tossed carelessly onto the beaten earth floor.
The corrugated iron roof tending to concentrate the searing heat of an
African sun until the sparsely appointed room became a furnace. A
small barred window, high in the wall and a battered but perfectly
sound door completed the ensemble.

It was a room that almost anyone at home in the sheltered cloisters of
middle class western society would recoil from. It spoke of dirt and
grime, poor food and unspeakable labors. 

It was, by African standards, relatively clean. In fact it even
featured a shower, of sorts, and a hole in the floor through which the
occupant of the room could complete their ablutions.

Other than the mattress it had no furniture, indeed it needed none,
not when one considers its purpose. But today it had an addition. A
solitary chair, obliquely situated close to the door in which a fat
Arabic looking man in a grubby off white suit sat looking at the
person who was laid out on the mattress. His hands folded over the
silver balled head of his ebony stick, its point comfortably resting
on the floor.

Every so often the man pulled out a handkerchief, pushed his fez back
and mopped his brow as he surveyed her. Licking his lips while he
waited for her to emerge from her drug induced coma. He was in no
hurry, he enjoyed these occasions and did nothing to speed up the
process through which he intended to lead her towards her new life.

Meanwhile he feasted on her charms. She was simply stunning. Blond and
beautiful with a model's figure that her rather severely cut business
suit did little to hide. He couldn't see her eyes but he was assured
that they were blue and piercing. A perennial favorite amongst his
customers was the idea of being able to ejaculate inside a slim,
blond, blue eyed American beauty's tight little pussy. And now they
were to get their wish.

He smiled down at her.

He loved his job as much as she was going to hate hers.

Fate can be such a cruel master sometimes.

________________________(c) 2000 Spoonbender
_____________________________

Kallie came to bathed in an ocean of sweat. Her eyes blinked open then
shut swiftly as the harsh light from the barred window dazzled her.
She opened them slowly and, once accustomed to the brightness slowly
scanned the room. Finally alighting on the obscene man ensconced on
the plain wooden chair.

Her head was pounding like a drum from the effects of the drugs and
she found it difficult to marshal her thoughts as she surveyed her
surroundings. Drawing on hidden energy she was at last able to croak.

"Where am I? And who are you?"

"Where you are is for me to know but is of no concern of yours. As to
who I am, let us just say I am your Master."

He spoke extremely good English albeit with a guttural southern
Mediterranean accent and he sounded faintly amused.

"What..ow," she exclaimed as she tried to sit up. She clapped a hand
to her brow as she again attempted to marshal her strength. "What do
you mean... Master?" She tried to sound confident and in full control
of the situation but her fear made her voice sound high and
schoolgirlish.

He shifted slightly in his seat and again mopped his brow, his
amusement clearly showing on his fleshy jowls. "Come, come," he
chided. "You are an educated woman, surely you understand the word
Master." He rolled it on his tongue savoring the reaction it caused in
her.

She struggled upright, ignoring the stabbing pains in her head, and
took a series of deep breaths trying to control her thumping heart.
Finally she felt in control enough to speak.

"No man is my master buster. You'd better let me out of here or you're
going to be in big trouble."

The man's smile broadened and he waved at the door behind him, "You
are free to go, however I must warn you that you are in the middle of
Africa and there are over a million men out there between you and the
airport that would love the chance to get between a pretty white
girl's legs. Maybe you should think about that before you do anything
rash."

Kallie was stunned, "Africa?" she blurted.

"Yes my dear, Africa, I'm sure you have heard of it."

She shook her head in irritation, "Yes, yes, but how?"

He shrugged, "how you got here is no concern of yours. All that you
need concern yourself with is what you are going to be doing now that
you are here. Concentrate on the future, not on the past."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Look around, what do you think?" he said, clamping his stick between
his knees and spreading his hands expansively whilst looking around
the room as if he was seeing it for the first time.

"I don't fucking know," she spat, exasperated by his insouciance. She
took another deep breath, "why don't you tell me."

"To put it simply this is a brothel and you are going to be a whore."

"WHAT? You can fuck off, I won't do that for you or anybody."

He shrugged, his smile not slipping an inch. "Oh I assure you that you
will, one way or another."

"Oh yeah and just how are you going to make me?" her jaw jutted
aggressively.

"There are a number of ways," he seemed unconcerned and evidently used
to this type of reaction. "You see the chains hanging from the wall?"
he pointed with his stick to two sets of manacles that had been bolted
to the wall about 6 feet from the floor. "Well we could start by
chaining you to the wall, tearing your clothes off and whipping you
until you beg to be allowed to......"

Kallie sat there stunned. His matter of fact tone seeming to make what
he was saying more grotesque.

"...then I would have you chained down using the chains around the
mattress....." He pointed his stick towards the corner of the mattress
and she saw the manacles that lay coiled there like rusting, evil
snakes. One per corner. It didn't need much imagination to work out
what they were for.

"....then of course they'd simply take you anyway," his gold tooth
glinted as he grinned.

"You can't do this," her voice cracked with emotion and a solitary
tear trickled down her cheek.

"I can't see any reason why not, you are my property and you will do
what I say. Whether you cooperate or not," he paused for a second and
a crafty look came into his eye. "Of course it would be easier if you
cooperated."

"Cooperate with you? Why should I?" she tried to sound defiant but her
bravado was melting away as her mind churned over her options.

"Because if you don't then you'll be stripped, whipped and fucked by
as many men as would want you. Which given the interest shown in
blonds here might be rather a trying experience for you. It wouldn't
surprise me if you ended up with over a hundred men cumming between
those pretty white thighs. Tonight and every night until you see
sense."

The tears were flowing freely now. Gone was the confident young
businesswoman and in her place was a scared young girl, miles from
home and beyond help. "And if I cooperate?" she sobbed.

"Ah in that case it will all be so much easier. And far less tiring
for you I think you'll find. Maybe you'll even enjoy it."

She doubted it but couldn't see any alternative. She sat there, eyes
cast down to the floor, as she contemplated her fate. They used to
call it the fate worse than death, now she understood why as a life of
sexual servitude stretched out before her. She buried her face in her
hands and sobbed piteously, while he sat there with a sardonic smile
on his face.

After a few minutes he again spoke, "I suggest you start taking your
clothes off. The men are getting restless."

"Please no! please don't, I'll do other things whatever you want, just
don't do this."

"Other things? Like what?"

"I can er.." she stopped doubting that a corporate marketing
specialist had much to offer around here, but she had to try to save
herself. "Look couldn't we..er..like I could be your girlfriend or
something."

He threw back his head and laughed, "Oh my dear that was wonderful.
Thank you, I haven't had an offer like that for a very long time. And
why do you think I would be the remotest bit interested in you?"

"Because I er I'm attractive. I could give you a good time."

"I assure you that you couldn't. But thank you for the offer. My
tastes do not run to women I'm afraid, so as you Americans so nicely
put it, you are plain out of luck. Now stand up," he motioned with his
cane.

She wobbled to her feet afraid that she would fall her limbs were
shaking so much. She shuddered as his eyes traveled down her body
appraising her like a piece of meat. "Hmmm, excellent," he muttered
rubbing his beard, "ok you know what to do."

"Please," she entreated.

Suddenly his grin was gone. "I told you to strip......unless you want
my men to do it for you."

Sobbing openly she pulled off her jacket. Once it was free of her arms
she folded it and looked around for somewhere to put it. Without a
word he indicated with his stick that she should drop it. She grimaced
as she dropped it into the dirt.

The blouse came next revealing a milky white bra.

The skirt revealed pantyhose, now it was his turn to grimace.
Evidently they were not to his taste.

The pantyhose revealed a pair of lacy white panties.

She stood before him, head bowed in shame, clad only in her underwear.

"I don't think I told you to stop," he commanded.

The tears trickled openly as she released the catch on the bra letting
the cups fall open. She looked at him willing him to stop, but his
glare commanded her.

She had never felt so vulnerable as she did at that time. Her
helplessness, a feeling almost unknown to her, tore at her as she bent
to his will and dropped the bra on the floor.

"The pants. Now the pants," he pointed to her panties with his stick.

Blushing she hooked her thumbs over the waistband of her panties then
leaned forward as she pushed them down her sleek legs.

Standing up she stood before him, eyes down, face red with her hands
shielding her crotch.

He allowed her this small gesture of modesty, it would be stripped
away soon enough. He grabbed his stick by the tip and rapped the head
on the door. The door flew open and a large black man stood framed in
the light a sneer of lust plastered across his face.

Kallie recoiled when she saw him. She was having enough trouble trying
to come to terms with her fate without having to contemplate the fact
that she was to be forced to copulate with black men. To her blacks
were just people that drifted in and out of the periphery of her
vision. They opened doors for her, cleaned her office and performed a
myriad range of menial tasks for her. All of which went unrecognized
and unrewarded. If they did blip on her radar it was purely to berate
them for some misdemeanor or other. The very last thing in her mind
was the prospect of actually having sex with one, never mind many of
them.

She couldn't, just couldn't.

She shook her head and held her hands out in front of her, tears again
streaming down her face. "No please, no, not with him. Please."

"Why not?" the Arab queried gently, genuinely puzzled.

"He's a, he's black."

The Arab shrugged, "So?" To him it obviously posed no problem. The man
was a paying customer so his color didn't matter and more to the
point, neither did she.

"I can't."

"Are you refusing?" the steely glint in his eyes should have warned
her.

She nodded, eyes streaming.

The Arab turned to the man and said something in rapid fire Swahili.
The man smiled, teeth gleaming, then turned and walked out. Moments
later he returned carrying some rope and a slim flat ebony paddle. A
grinning man with a huge old camera followed him in.

"What is he doing?" she quavered as the large man inched towards her.

She yelped when one beefy paw closed over her wrist. The Arab stood up
and moved the chair into the middle of the room. 

"Get him off me!" she hollered as the man pulled her around the chair
then pushed her over the back. She struggled vainly as the Arab
grabbed her wrists tying them together then onto the front rung of the
chair. Two further lengths of rope tied her ankles to the back legs.
Her ass pointed high, her charms spread and available to all. The
cameraman dropped to his knees and focused on her face.

She screamed as she contemplated her upcoming rape.

The loud crack across her bottom took her by surprise and the pain,
that followed milliseconds later, ripped through her like fire. Her
piercing scream was heart-rending and futile as another blow struck
her mid buttock.

Again and again the Arab's arm raised then struck.

Again and again she screamed, struggled and cried.

The shutter clicked and the flashes blinded her.

Until at last she acceded to his demand, "Please no more, I'll do it.
Please no more."

Crack!

"Beg him to fuck you."

"Pleeeease!"

Crack!

"Beg him."

"Please, please make love to me."

Crack!

"Beg him to fuck you. You're a whore you don't make love, you FUCK!"

Crack!

"Fuck me, fuck me. Anything, just stop, please." She whimpered.

Crack!

"Louder!"

"PLEASE FUCK ME, FUCK MEEEE," She screamed heartrendingly.

The Arab leaned down until his mouth was close to her ear, "You refuse
now and this will seem like nothing, do you hear?" He smacked her
flaming butt in confirmation. She nodded tearfully.

The black man, his grin wider than ever, undid her bonds and she
struggled upright her hands rubbing her blazing buttocks furiously.

The Arab restored his chair to its previous position and plumped down,
his smile again in position.

The black man held her hand and led her over to the grubby mattress.
Sobbing she dropped down onto its stained surface, grimacing at its
fetidness. The man followed her down fondling her body as he did so.

She grimaced and reflexively tried to push his hands away, but then
she caught the Arab's eye. She gulped and her hands dropped limply
away. The black smirked and nibbled her neck as she lay on her back,
her eyes pooling with tears. One of his hands dropped onto her thighs
slowly forcing them apart.

She shuddered with sobs as she was forced open. Every instinct in her
screamed at her to get up, to flee, to stop this man, this stranger
from raping her. Because rape was what it was. Even though she had
consented. He was forcing her apart, tearing open her body with the
strength of ten. She felt powerless and totally terrified.

He humped himself between her thighs and settled on her. She recoiled
in disgust and revulsion, feeling his hard body pressing her down onto
the filthy mattress. His skin was coarse and rough as it pressed down
on her firm breasts, pressing them against her ribs until they
pillowed out like fat cushions. His cock was bone hard as pressed
against her soft thighs.

The man pushed himself up on one hand and grabbed his huge throbbing
prick. He
pressed the head against her cunt. Kallie lay still in abject terror.
She had never seen an uncircumcised cock before and the thought of it
pushing inside her filled her with horrified revulsion.

She tried to wriggle from under him, but it was too late, and she
sobbed piteously in misery and fear as it started to push inside. She
tried to push him away but he was too heavy and far too strong and his
prick started to ram into her tight dry cunt. She shuddered in pain,
her eyes screwed shut and her hands clenched tightly as he forced
himself inside.

The man grunted and threw his hips forward, jamming his cock fully
into her body, his balls pressing against the underside of her
buttocks as he sighed and
rested on her. After he had savored her tightness for a few seconds he
drew himself out, causing her to arch her back again, a whimper of
pain bubbling from her lips.

Again the cameraman clicked away oblivious to her suffering as the man
on top of her started to pound away at her. Her legs slid up and down
his body with the forceful thrusting of his strokes and she wriggled
and squirmed as she tried to find a position that was less painful for
her.

But it was no use. He kept varying his angle of attack but never
lessened the pace as he pounded away in her.

She had never felt so humiliated as she was ravaged by someone, who in
her mind, was a sub human. And to make it worse she was being watched
intently by a smiling Arab and was blinded by the flash of the camera.

The man pounded faster and faster and then she felt him stiffen and
swell inside her. She made one last effort to heave him off but he
wasn't having any of it and he just pushed her effortlessly down as he
slammed in as deep as he could. And with a satisfied grunt he came
inside her unprotected womb. She could feel the hot ropes of his seed
splattering inside her and her whole body cringed in revulsion and
horror.

It seemed to be hours before he at last slumped on top of her as his
last few drops were forced inside her. His spent prick dropped weakly
out of her cunt after a few seconds and he pushed himself up, dropped
his loincloth and, without a backward glance, he stalked out of the
mean room.

The tableau continued for a few seconds, the ravished girl, sperm
drooling from her pussy, the fat smiling Arab in repose on his chair
and the cameraman changing his film. She lay there stunned, wide eyed
and ashamed with a black man's sperm sliding down her asscrack and
soaking into the mattress.

The door was flung open and her next customer walked in, sneering in
lust as he saw the fucked white girl that he too was going to possess.

He dropped between her still widespread legs and without preamble
rammed himself into her. Kallie groaned in horror as he slammed
against her cervix. Seconds later he was pounding away violently. The
first man's sperm had lubricated her so it didn't hurt much but the
humiliation threatened to overwhelm her, especially when the cameraman
again started clicking away. Her eyes misted with tears as she grunted
with his thrusts and moaned when he mauled her perky breasts.

And so it went on......

And on.....

And on.....

________________________(c) 2000 Spoonbender
_____________________________

Twenty men emptied themselves between her soft white thighs before the
Arab called a halt to her degradation. She gave up struggling after
the first few and in the end she just lay there focusing on the
ripples of the corrugated tin room as man after man climbed on top of
her.

The cameraman was squatting in the corner of the room, dangling his
camera by its strap. He had long since given up taking photographs,
after a while the scene had a sameness about it that did not provide
sufficient inspiration for the artist that lived within him. He too
had fucked her, number sixteen or seventeen she didn't know which,
having long lost count of the men that were cumming inside her. He
pulled the camera up to his eye and snapped off two final shots. One
of her lying there spread wide wantonly and a close up of her sperm
smeared crotch.

The Arab cleared his throat, "do you want to leave?"

"Leave?" she croaked.

"Yes leave. You may be able to leave if...." He left the sentence
hanging.

"If what?" hoping against hope.

"If you beg nicely," again the glint of his gold tooth. "Get up."

It took her three attempts to struggle upright. Even though she had
laid supine throughout most of her ordeal she was still so very, very
tired. At last she stood on wobbly legs, cold sperm meandering down
the inside of her thighs.

She looked like a complete cumslut. Red paw marks disfigured her
breasts and there were numerous bruises forming over her slim white
body. A dark patch of wetness soaked into the mattress from where she
had lain.

The Arab turned slightly and pointed his stick towards a dark patch in
the top corner of the room, above his head. "You see that?" he
enquired.

Wearily she squinted then noticed the regular shape of the hole. It
looked like a lens and against the odds another tear coursed down her
downy cheek. 

"The man who put you here is going to watch the tape we have made and
if he consider you to be sufficiently contrite then he may allow you
to go home."

"Man who put me here?" puzzled.

"Yes, why do you think you were chosen? Someone has paid a lot of
money to have you brought here."

"Who?"

He laughed, a short bark, "I am not going to tell you that now am I?
It could be someone you have snubbed at work, a spurned lover, or
someone who just doesn't like you. I will leave that to you to work
out."

Her mind spun furiously despite her tiredness trying to figure out who
it was that could be so vindictive as to... Eventually she gave up, it
could be any one of a number of men.

He watched her shoulders slump and then said, "fortunately for you he
has given you a chance to redeem yourself. You must beg his
forgiveness and if you are convincing enough then he might, just
might, order your release. So it is up to you. Do you understand?"

She nodded tearfully.

"You will look at the camera and beg. And I suggest you beg well as
your life depends on it."

She stood mutely.

"I'd start if I were you, unless you want another twenty men to fuck
you."

"No please."

"Go on then."

She gulped then raised her eyes to the cold dark eye of the lens.
Hesitantly she started, "please sir, please let me go. I'm sorry for
whatever I've done. I'll never do it again. Please let me go. I'll be
good, I'll do whatever you want, but please let me go...." She broke
down in a paroxysm of sobs.

The Arab let her cry for a few minutes then said, briskly, "clean
yourself up."
He pointed to the crude toilet.

The cameraman clicked away furiously as she squatted and used the thin
dribble of water from the hose that served as a shower to try and
clean the smears of spunk that matted her crotch.

When she had finished she staggered upright, too worn out to care
about what was to happen next.

"He wants you to suck off five men and after each one you will hold
the spunk in your mouth and beg again."

"Oh no. Please not that I've never..."

He shrugged, "then you stay here until you do. It is not a problem to
me."

She dropped to her knees hands clasped in front of her in silent
supplication.

He looked down at her smiling sardonically, "well?"

She nodded, head hung low.

He again rapped on the door and a fresh man entered the room. He
walked over to her and pushed his prick up against her tightly closed
lips. He waved it in her face then pushed against them again before he
turned quizzically to the Arab.

"If you want to leave I suggest you open your mouth to him," snapped
the Arab.

The man grabbed his flaccid cock and slapped her across the face with
it a couple of times before again pressing it against her lips. With
an obvious reluctance she parted them allowing him to slip inside.

She gagged and tried to pull away when the tip of it hit the back of
her tongue but his huge hands gripped her head and held it tight as he
kept pushing. She squirmed on the floor, her hands pushing and
slapping ineffectually against his sturdy thighs.

He pulled her head towards his crotch as he kept slamming his steel
hard prick deeper and deeper. Finally her pretty nose was buried
deeply in his wiry pubic hairs. Her face turned red from lack of air
as his prick pulsed deep inside her throat. He murmured in lust then
suddenly pulled her head back allowing her to gulp a lungful of air
before he again yanked her back onto him.

Her hands slapped repeatedly against his hips as he manhandled her
head to give himself the maximum satisfaction inside her soft wet maw.

Faster and harder he forced himself into her.

Until.....

He must have been in the know because, just as he started to stiffen
and pulse he pulled her head back until just the tip was inside her
mouth. Then he came.
Her eyes closed in humiliation and her head shook as the prick fired
its salty load inside her mouth repeatedly. The cameraman adding to
her misery as he clicked away madly.

Finally he pulled her head off of him then turned and walked out
without a second glance. Leaving her kneeling naked in the dirt with
her cheeks bulging with his seed.

"Get on with it," the Arab nodded up towards the hidden camera.

Blushing furiously she burbled "preeze fur, preeze wet ma gur." The
sperm dribbling down her chin and dripping to the floor, "preeze."

"Swallow," commanded the Arab.

"Preeze."

"Swallow!"

She closed her eyes in humiliation and swallowed.

Four more men.

Four more mouthfuls of hot sperm.

Four more muffled pleas.

Four more humiliating swallows as the sperm slid down her throat like
thick mucus.

They laid her back on the mattress after that and she was fucked a few
more times. Finally they gave up, it was no fun fucking a semi
comatose woman. Never mind how pretty she was or how blond her hair.

She fell asleep with one leg flung wide and the other bent. Her foot
against her ass and a thick lava-stream of cold spunk oozing out of
her.

________________________(c) 2000 Spoonbender
_____________________________

She came to with a jerk. Her heart pounding in terror and her breath
coming in short gasps.

The sun streamed in through her curtains creating golden flecks in the
air above her brass four poster bed. With its soft deep duvet and its
frilly pelmets high above her head.

She looked around wildly unable to comprehend where she was.

Then she felt it. Deep inside her.

She reached between her legs amazed to find a tight rope snapped
snugly over her crotch. Which was doing a sterling job of holding the
dildo, that lived in her bedside cabinet, inside her.

She pulled the rope to one side and, with a long groan, pulled the
dildo out. Then fell back. She was so sore she could hardly move.

She lay there staring at her familiar ceiling trying to gather her
flittering thoughts. What had happened to her was overwhelming enough
but to wake up to normality was mind bending.

She glanced over to her bedside clock. The techie toy she had bought
on a business trip to Singapore. It told the time and the day. And it
told her it was Sunday at 6 in the evening.

She'd been gone about 48 hours. Was that time enough to get to Africa?
She doubted it but.....

She'd been there. She knew it. It was so authentic. The men was so
raw, so feral. Quite unlike the more westernized blacks that she had
briefly met. They were exactly how she thought Africans to be.
Uncaring, unfeeling, primitive.

She thought about what she'd done with them and the bile rose in her
throat.
She spent the rest of the evening with her head in the toilet bowl.

She later wrestled with the decision of whether she should go to the
police. Would they believe her (Africa you say lady? Right!), would
they catch them? Who had set it up? 

She fell asleep with her mind still churning the options.

The next day at work she decided to call the police. She flicked on
her computer to call up their number and an email suddenly appeared in
the middle of her screen. That was odd it had never done that before.

Do not go to the Police. You will not be believed and we will never be
found. As for the man who put you there you should be grateful that he
let you go free. Forget it or.......

She stared at the message as a numbness crept down her body. It was
some moments before she noticed that there was an attachment. It was a
series of photographs of her......being fucked, covered in sperm,
sucking a huge black dick, begging through the mouthful of sperm....

She hit delete and ran to the bathroom to wretch her guts up.

It was obvious what they'd do if she went to the Police. Her photos
would appear on websites throughout the world.

The next few days were hell as she tried to work out who it could have
been that had been responsible for it. Was it the suave urbane
president? Balding and harassed looking Griggs her deputy, even the
stockroom boy who had once worked in sales before she took exception
to him.

Who?

She found herself watching them intently until they started to become
embarrassed and started to avoid her. Otherwise they acted perfectly
normally and she felt she was going mad as she tried to work out who
it was. That had her gangraped and forced to suck numerous black
pricks. And who had her panties.

The Arab had told her, it one of her last conscious thoughts.

"He will get these panties...." As she slipped into the fluffy
confines of unconsciousness.

Then the missed period.

It was what she was dreading more than anything else. She'd douched
and had even considered the morning after pill but somehow never got
one. Her mind tried to deny that it had happened, that history was
wrong, that her personal holocaust had never taken place.

So she didn't.

She was searching the web for the closest abortion clinic when the
next email came.

Do not abort it. You will carry it to term. If you don't you will be
returned and another baby will be put in your belly. And this time you
will be kept there to make sure you have it.

More photos. Of her with the first black guy, the probable father. She
couldn't see much of him, but she could see herself well enough. The
short series of pictures  went from the initial look of agony when he
first entered her through to the grimace of humiliated disgust as he
erupted inside her. The camera caught it all.

The moments of insertion through to conception all captured in a few
magnetic droppings on a computer disk.

Ethereal but true.

She thought about her ordeal and with a strength of purpose she
thought she no longer had, she made her mind up about what she should
do.

________________________(c) 2000 Spoonbender
_____________________________

Kallie left the company a few months later. It had a strict moral code
that did not allow for employees, certainly senior ones, to get
pregnant outside marriage. And it was certainly obvious to everyone
that she was indeed pregnant, moreover she wouldn't disclose the
father's name to the HR department. Something that may have mitigated
her condition somewhat was if she could have indicated that she was in
a steady relationship. Sadly it was not to be and, as rumor has it,
she didn't in actuality know who the father was. Indeed the rumor mill
ground onwards and upwards until the story was circulating that it
could have been any one of a number of dalliances. Some of which were
somewhat of a temporary nature. After that her position became
untenable and she slunk away with the puzzled, mildly distasteful,
looks on the director's faces etched on her memory.

Her half black son's name is Cory and she lives in a bleak coldwater
tenement, on welfare. Apparently she is pregnant again.

________________________(c) 2000 Spoonbender
_____________________________


Is there a woman out there that has put you down or denied you what is
yours? Or what about that pretty coed from down the street that you
might like to see put in her place. (no underaged girls please, they
raise too many complications). What about your female boss? Too
uppity? Girlfriend just ditched you?

If any of the above apply to you then you could benefit from the
services offered by www.wefuckemforyou.zz

For a single payment of $25,000 you get the following benefits:

Discrete pick up and return. Only the victim knows she has been taken
and she never knows who by. And she's always returned to the exact
point of origin or to a place that you designate and that we deem
secure.

Control over the numbers and racial origins of the men. Whether its
ten or a hundred its all included in the price. You choose depending
on how much she has annoyed you or how many you estimate it will take
to tame her.

We can inform the victim that she was selected by someone or not, it
is your choice. Kallie's controller stipulated that she should be
told, in order to modify her behavior in future.

A videotape will be made using the finest studio quality video camera.
There will also be a number of high quality still photographs taken at
optimal moments for you to savor. Please note that the participant's
faces, other than hers, cannot be seen. Therefore they will yield no
clues back to the perpetrators nor indeed yourself. 

A website on our server. We will put the gangbang photos, details
about her life, her name and address and a number of 'plain'
photographs on the site. The 'plain' photographs will have been taken
before her abduction and will show her going about her daily business.
These will be used to confirm her identity. There will also be offers
to sell the DVDs of her gangbang. This website will be held in
abeyance until we get a confirmation email from you. It is recommended
that this option is only invoked if she causes further distress or
embarrassment to you. In return for running the site we will take all
the proceeds of the sale of the DVDs but we will ensure that all her
colleagues, family and friends (and indeed her rivals)  are emailed
with the URL and JPGs. We will also ensure maximum distribution
worldwide. Wherever she goes you can be assured they will be on open
sale in a local sexshop.

As a bonus, if you wish, we could send you her panties for your
delectation.

In order to avail yourself of the service please note the following
steps:

1) Send her name, address, workplace title and address, marital status
and any other facts that can help to give a positive identification
(such as a recent photograph in JPG form). The email addresses of key
acquaintances should also be attached.
2) Fill in the credit card details into our secure server or look at
our easy terms credit plan.
3) Wait for up to one month.

The service is extremely secure and totally anonymous. Once the
payment has been processed your card details will be destroyed. The
photographs will be in a closed area on our website for your perusal.
The video can be sent to you on request, but please note that it may
be subject to customs inspection if sent overseas.

Our facilities include a simulated African brothel set inside a
warehouse. This facility includes powerful heating and colour tuned
lighting to simulate the heat of an African summer. Sand has been
spread, and authentic African noises come from speakers set, around
the outside of the room. The victim will not suspect a thing.

Similarly the personnel are specially trained and are chosen on the
basis of their brutality, substantial penile dimensions and their
stamina.

Please allow up to 2 months for DVD or Video delivery (please indicate
which you prefer).

Notices:

Kallie's website has been sanctioned so watch out for it soon. The
full boxed set of DVDs are available for sale on the site. And her new
address.

Would Customer 965 please confirm your email address, our emails keep
bouncing and we are in a position to pick up the victim and carry out
the plan.

Customer 732 your target was acquired last weekend, used and released,
please see your closed website area for first pictures.

Customer 589 your victim's DVD set is available please email with
postal details

Our European service will be opening soon, please see website for
details.
Or email me at spoonbender@hotmail.com

(******** (c) Spoonbender@hotmail.com **************************)

Who says marketing don't work? <grin>

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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