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From: Hatefull <jeelee23@yahoo.ca>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.bondage
Subject: The Long Night PT3 The continuing story of the submission of christine. Adults only any feed back both positive and negative is welcome
Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2006 20:00:10 -0800
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===================
Slim and desirable the haughty young girl christine finds herself
working as a common whore in a exclusive brothe which caters to clients
with "particualr" tastes. Bad personal managment, and impulsive
spending have forced this willfull young girl to sign a two year slave
contract with the owner of the brothel. A man known only as Mr
Phelps....
Chapter 2 Wesleys Revenge continued....
Wes settled himself into a comfortable chair with glass of port in
one hand, and a cuban cigar in the other. While outwardly calm inside
his was a giddy with anticipation. He watched christine as she
kneeled, her proud head lowered in submission. The site of her naked,
shaved body at his feet made him hard with excitment. The last time he
had seen her the circumstances had been very different indeed. He was
a dishwasher, and she a cook. He had always lusted after her, but knew
she would never have the time of day for him. Once he had made the
mistake of asking her out, a simple no would have sufficed. Instead
she chose to list all of his misgivings, he was fat, he was ulgy, he
smelled, he had bad breath. and so on, and so on. For the next few
weeks everytime he had to walk past her in the narrow kitchen she
would bend out of the way at her waist, trusting her perfectly pear
shaped buttock mockingly in his face. She wore white pants, and her
white thong was always a clear visable line that drove him wild with
desire. Another time she had come in on her day off to collect her pay
cheque, wearing a skimpy sun dress, her honey brown hair glistened in
the morning sun. She had caught him staring and made such a fuss that
the owner made him aplogize to her. Gino was sixty, balding, and
wanted to fuck her as well. christine would often flirt with him,
especially when Wes was around. The most humiliating moment came when
one afternoon after she had left he found her bag. Picking it up with
the intention of hanging in the staff room a folder had fallen out,
with it several photo's of her. They were model test shots, two
portraits in which she looked the picture of desire, high glossy
cheeks, and white smile with a youthfull innocents that hide the real
bitch underneath. And a third shot of her in a tiny white bikini, her
skin glowing in the afternoon sun. Wes could not help but to stare at
the photos, she was a very beautiful young women. Christine came
flying back into the kitchen having realised she had left her bag, and
sreamed when she saw him looking at the photo's. She accused him a
stealing them, and made such a fuss that he was forced to quit or face
a criminal investigation. Two weeks later when he returned to get his
final cheque all of the staff ignored him coldly. As he walked out he
caught the sound of someone sniggering and that drove him insane with
rage. He vowed if ever the moment presented itself he take his revenge
in the most brutal way. As fate would have it Mr Phelps, christines
owner was a friend of his, and quite by chance the subject of what had
happened between the two of them came up over a causal beer one day.
The rest is, or rather soon will be history Wes thought with
anticipation. He decided he was going to place his cock over every
inch of her body.
Taking another sip Wes looked at the group of fifty street bums he had
gathered. They were the worst of lot, scab faced, lice infested,
filthy stinky bums who all waited patienly for their fun. Wes had
promised them twenty dollar each in return for their cooperation. All
that was required, molest, and then ejaculate their load onto some
haughty bitch's face. Easy work.
Nodding his head in silence Wes motioned for Asmera to remove
christines hood. She gasped, and was red faced but said nothing. Just
stared down at the floor like it was her best friend. My Phelps had
broken her allready Wes observed, but he intented to break her more.
He wanted to break past her allready submissive, obedient side and make
her beg, and cry to stop whatever torment he was doing at the time.
Then he would have his revenge. It would not be easy with that huge
bull dyke standing beside her. She was enough to make most men kneel in
submission, at the plush cage, obedient was tops. A lesson christine
would have learned most dearly in her early days here. But there was
one thing he could not wait for. Standing up he looked down at the
kneelling girl, so proud and haughty she had one been, now she was a
shaved whore at his command. "Look at me!" He command, and christine
obeyed. As she turned her head Wes spat in her face, a thick grey
oyster that stuck to the corner of her mouth. Unable to control
herself she retched, and was rewarded with a jarring slap from Asmera.
Wes smiled, and spat in her face again. This time only her tears were
moving. Now the fun begins Wes thought to himself, and slowly
unhitched his belt.