Caveat lector.

(MF+,nc and con,anal,oral)

If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.

If you don't like stories about sex with underage children, don't read it.

If you don't like stories bout forced sex, don't read it.

If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, don't read it.

If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this story, don't read it.

 

Find my stories here-

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/normdeploom/

 

Copyright © 2003 Norm DePloom.  ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted at 'MyStories at normdeploom dot com'

 

All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

 

The Witness

(Being part four of a continuing story of non-consensual sexual slavery.)

 

By

Norm DePloom

 

Standing up I pulled the slave over to me and, with the front of her naked body up against mine, I reached around and refastened the wrist cuffs to each other behind her back.  I couldn't believe the effect this young Asian fuck slave had on me.  My cock had been hard almost constantly since I watched the Hmong gang members dump her bound body into the trunk of my car.  I had cum three times since I got her home, and during that time I never got more than half soft before the sight of my bitch, or the thought of what I would do to her hardened me up again. 

 

Now here I was, I had just come so hard that I had trouble standing up for a couple of minutes afterward, and now the feel of her hot, bruised, sweaty skin on mine; the smell of her just fucked cunt; the feel of her makeshift nipple rings pressing against my chest, all conspired to start my cock hardening again. 

 

I knew when I made the deal that I was taking a risk.  As far back as I could remember my sex fantasies had involved using and abusing Asian girls in every way I could imagine.  Whether I was fucking some slut's cunt, or jerking off, inside my head I was always raping and torturing Asian women.  I have, occasionally, given thought to what may be at the base of this fascination with Asian girls.  When I was a very young child we lived on an Indian reservation.  My father was there as a representative of the Bureau of Indian Affairs.  My mom and dad hired a young Indian woman to be a live-in housekeeper and nanny.  Even as a four and five year old I used to get a baby boner when that sultry Indian bitch was around.  In my memory she looked very 'Asian'. 

 

I knew I was risking the reality of having an Asian sex slave not living up to my fantasy.  So far, as witnessed by my perpetually hard cock, the reality had surpassed the fantasy by several orders of magnitude, I still wasn't finished teaching my fuck slave her place in the world.  Grabbing her collar again I pulled her back over to the bookshelf.  Ignoring the young bitch's struggles I pulled her tits back up onto the shelf and hooked her make shift paperclip nipple rings over the two bloody nails.  The over-sized paperclip rings added enough length that the slave did not have to stand on her tip toes, but still stretched her freshly pierced nipples enough to keep her from moving. 

 

"Can I trust you to wait patiently until I return?"  I asked sarcastically.  I left my fuck slave hooked to the bookshelf and rounded up some more chain and some small padlocks.  I returned to find her quietly crying as she stood up against the shelf. 

 

"Down on your hands and knees," I ordered after unhooking her nipples from the nails and releasing her wrist cuffs from each other.  "You must learn once and for all," I said as I locked her collar on her neck and her ankle cuffs onto her ankles with the padlocks, "that you are a fuck slave, and nothing else.  You will never, for the rest of your life be anything but a fuck slave.  The only thing that may change in your future is who owns you and whose cock is fucking your otherwise useless holes."  I locked one end of the chain to the front of her collar, and the other to the center of her hobble chain, with the little that was left over to drag behind her as she crawled.  The chain was short enough to keep her from standing up, her only choice would be to crawl on her hands and knees.

 

"Until you learn this lesson," I informed her as I attached another length of chain to her collar as a leash, "you will have to stay on your hands and knees like a bitch dog."

 

"Follow me," I ordered as I yanked on the chain leash.  With chains rattling, and dragging on the wood floor, I walked my fuck slave back into the front room where I had left the bowel of water.

 

"Drink," I told her, "drink like a bitch dog drinks."  With sobs and sniffles my slave lowered her face to the bowel and lapped at the water.  As I watched my slave lap water from the bowel, her ass high in the air presenting her cunt and ass for my inspection, I was again overwhelmed with the obsession to fuck her.  It seemed that every time I slipped my hard cock into one of her wet holes it increased instead of decreasing my desire to do it again.  I had never had such a perpetual erection since my teen-age days.  Even before she finished drinking I got down on my knees behind her and pushed the tip of my cockhead against her tight, inviting asshole.  The slave groaned as my cock stretched her open a second time.  She was still wet and slippery from her first ass fuck, and my dick slipped easily into her.  I fucked without the anger that had motivated me in the kitchen.  I fucked just for the pleasure of feeling my cock moving in her ass.  I fucked just for the sensation of her tight sphincter muscle moving up and down my cock shaft.  I fucked just for the joy of exercising my prerogative as a slave owner.

 

By this time I had totally drained my reserve of cum, and once again experienced a dry orgasm.  This time, though, it was a much more gentle orgasm, satisfying in an entirely different way than the orgasm I had at the end of my anger induced punishment fuck in the kitchen.  Surprisingly the slave seemed to be more relaxed and calmed by this fuck.  As soon as I started pumping my cock in her ass, she had moved the water bowel to the side and laid her cheek down on the wood floor.  She seemed, at least for the moment, to be accepting her role as a fuck slave. 

 

After I pulled my over-used cock from her ass, I took the slave's chain and walked her over to the doorway where her first ass rape had occurred.  I re-hooked her wrist cuffs behind her back, then hooked the tail end of the chain that ran from the front of her collar to her hobble chain, to her wrist cuffs behind her back.  My slave was now effectively hog-tied.  I used my last padlock to attach her leash chain to one of the eyebolts in the floor.  Leaving her secured to the living room, I went to my bedroom and dressed.  I felt I needed to get out of the house for a couple of hours before I killed myself obsessively fucking the slave.  Besides, I needed something better than paperclips to put through the nail holes I'd made in her nipples.  To demonstrate how much I needed to get out of the house for a while, my almost worn-out cock started getting hard again just thinking about driving those nails through the slave's nipples. 

 

By the time I got back to the front room, my slave was sound asleep on the floor.  I didn't bother to gag her since no one lived close enough to my house to hear her if she screamed.  I set a video camera on the stereo, focused it on the slave and left it recording, just to see what she would do while I was gone.

 

I made a conscious effort to not think about the fuck slave chained to the floor in my living room while I was out.  I stopped by a espresso shop/bookstore where I was known and bull shited with the other regulars while I drank my usual, a sixteen once, two hundred degree quad mocha with no whip. 

 

"I always leave my whip at home," I explained to the new girl when she questioned me about my drink.  She blushed very nicely.  That is one reason I like the young ones; they can still blush.  After an hour of relaxing in the espresso shop I drove to a small boutique I'd heard about.  They specialized in body piercing jewelry. 

 

It was a very small shop, the only window was in the door.  A brass bell danced and rang as I came in.  There was a young couple, standing with their arms around each other discussing whether they could afford gold barbells for her nipples. 

 

When the Asian lady behind the counter smiled at me, I felt a surge of lust like an electric currant through my body.  The woman locked eyes with me briefly then, with a slight blush, turned her attention back to the couple.  The store clerk looked to be Cambodian, whereas the slave chained up in my house was Hmong.  Same part of the world, different people.  If you think all Asian women look alike, you're just not paying enough attention.

 

The Hmongs lived it the mountainous area on the border of Vietnam and Cambodia.  Before the American's arrived for the killing, raping and pillaging known as the Vietnam war, the Hmong were the southeast Asian equivalent of our hillbillies.  Even down to the multi-generational feuds.  The defense had attempted to discredit my slave's testimony by showing that her family or clan, the Vangs, were involved in a feud with the clan the shooters were from, the Yangs.  The feud dated back before their immigration to the US at the end of our involvement in Vietnam.  While, I'm sure, no one remembered the reason, this feud explained why the Yangs were more than happy to turn the Vang slut over to a white man to be raped and abused for his pleasure. 

 

I looked at the titanium studs, barbells, and rings while keeping an eye on the young Asian lady.  She was well aware of my watching her and, when are gazes occasionally locked, would blush and look away again.  Her nipples grew progressively harder under her sweater as we played our little game of meaningful looks.  When she, finally, rang up the least expensive nipple barbells for the young couple, we both watched the couple leave before she spoke to me.

 

"What can I do for you?"  She stepped over to where I was standing. 

 

"I pierced my slave's nipples today," I told her, "and I need something to put in her holes."  The woman's nostrils flared slightly, and her eyes widened just a bit. 

 

"Most people buy the jewelry, then do the piercing.  How did you pierce her nipples?"

 

"The silly little cunt was misbehaving," I told the clerk with a smile as I leaned over the counter towards her, "so I nailed her tits to a shelf."

 

"Ooooo," the clerk said, grasping her breasts protectively.  Deciding to take a risk, I stepped over to the door and, after turning the sign around so the 'Out to Lunch' message would show, turned the deadbolt and pulled down the blind.

 

"Show me what you have in your nipples," I said as I walked back over to where the clerk was still holding on to her breasts.  She hesitated for only a moment, then lifted her sweater.  The clerk's breasts were slightly larger than my slaves.  Just large enough that the bottom of her cone shaped breasts curved with a barely noticeable sag.  As I stepped back up to the counter I reached out with both hands and gently moved her gold barbells back and forth so I could get a better look at them.  Her nipples hardened in my fingers.

 

"I like a responsive woman," I said with a smile as I squeezed her nipples with gentle milking motions.

 

"You have no idea," the clerk's response was interrupted by a sigh and a moan, "how responsive I am." I could see that she had five piercing on each ear, a diamond on the side of her nose, a small ring in her left eyebrow, and I saw flashes of gold on the center of her tongue when she talked.  Releasing her crinkled nipples I grasped her sweater on each side and lifted up.  The clerk raised her arms and allowed me to remove it. 

 

"Do you do piercings?"  I asked as I let her sweater drop to the floor behind her while still holding onto her wrists above her head.  I brought my hands slowly down her smooth-skinned arms then back to her small, firm breasts.

 

"The store does not do any piercing, but I do some on the side."  Her breathing was becoming more shallow and faster.  I was still reaching across the display case to touch the clerk, so I placed a hand on her waist and gently moved her down to the end. 

 

"If I wanted to get additional piercings on my slave," I asked as I lifted the petite Asian women up and sat her on the end of the case, "would you be willing to come to my house and do it?"

 

"Yes," she answered, making no attempt to hide her growing excitement, "and I'd be willing to pierce your slave too."  She finished with a smile as she began to move her hands up and down my arms.

 

"And," I continued as I brushed some of the clerk's hair from her face, "if during one of these piercing sessions you became convinced that my relationship with the slave wasn't exactly consensual?" 

 

"If," the clerk responded as her hands roamed over my back, under my shirt, "she had consented, then she wouldn't truly be a slave, would she?"  I brought my mouth to hers and pushed my tongue between her lips.  The invader was welcomed and caressed by the clerk's tongue. 

 

"If, in some unguarded moment," I continued, letting my mouth slip from hers, and speaking between kissed as I moved down her jaw to her neck, "the slave begs you to help her, or to call the police?"

 

"Who am I to interfere with the workings of your, or her, karma?"  The clerk spread her legs and moved nearer the edge of the case so more of our bodies touched.  "I have no idea what karmic debt has destined you to be her owner in this life, or what in her past lives has destined her to be your slave now.  Why should I risk incurring the karmic burden that might fall on me if I were to deprive her of the opportunity to learn whatever lesson she needs to learn from this life?" 

 

"I think my karma has destined me to fuck you today."  I said as I held her body tightly. 

 

"I have no doubt," she replied, "that my karma has destined me to be fucked by you today."

 

"Where else are you pierced?"

 

"I have a..."

 

"Show me," I said, as I pushed her back to a reclining position on the counter where she supported herself on her elbows and watched as I lifted, and separated her legs.  She was not wearing any underwear under her short skirt, my kind of slut to be sure.

 

"You are a remarkable woman."

 

"Thank you," she said with a slight blush, "but in what way do you consider me remarkable?"

 

"I just got my slave this morning,” I told her as I examined the barbell through her clitoris and the three small rings through her left labia, "a young Hmong bitch."   I noticed a tightening of the clerk’s body when I mentioned that my slave was Hmong, and wondered if she was suddenly sympathetic for another Southeast Asian.  "Having a slave turned me on so much I've already fucked her four times," I continued as the clerk began to relax again.  "One of the reasons for this shopping trip was to get a little rest before I wore myself out."  As I talked I spread the clerk open and gently pushed a finger inside, she wasn't as wet as my slave gets, but she was wet enough.  "In spite of all that fucking," I told her as I lowered my head to her waiting crotch, "I started getting hard again as soon as I saw you."  I finished then began to gently flick my tongue back and forth over her pierced clitoris as I moved my finger in and out of her wet cunt. 

 

"Hmongs," the clerk spat vehemently as she reached down with both hands and stroked my hair, "are animals.  Whatever you do to the silly slut, I'm sure she deserves."  For several minutes I tongued her in silence, except for her moans of pleasure.

 

"Is it true," I asked looking up at the clerks face as I paused to admire her beautiful pink pussy, "that women who have their clits pierced are constantly on the verge of orgasm?"

 

"Why," she asked with a smile, "do you think I'm risking my job to let a man, whose name I don't even know, fuck me?"

 

"Because your a slut?" I asked playfully as I resumed licking and sucking on her decorated clitoris.

 

"That too," she said with a sigh as she laid her head back on the counter and began moving her hips, fucking her wet cunt against my face.  After the clerk's second orgasm I helped her down from the display case.

 

"You know," I said, as I held her in my arms, "I've never had my cock in a mouth that had a gold ball on the tongue."  With her hands on my chest the clerk slowly sank to her knees then, leaving her hands on my chest, she began to unbuckle my belt with her teeth.  She had obviously done this before, and my trousers were quickly sliding down my legs as she sucked my miraculously hard cock into her hot wet mouth. 

 

"Oh, yes," I hissed as she expertly stimulated my dick with her ball studded tongue.  As she moved her lips and tongue over my dick I ran my hands down her arms then through her straight black hair.  The site of an Asian woman on her knees with my cock in her mouth has always seemed so natural to me.  There is something that is just so right about having my needs serviced by an Asian slut. Holding her head in my hands I pushed my  hard cock deep into her throat.  She took it all without gagging, she obviously knew her way around a hard dick.    

 

No matter how wonderful it felt, I wanted more than just her mouth.  Slipping my hands under her arms I pulled the clerk to her feet then turned her around.  Spreading her legs, she held onto the edge of the display case and leaned over.  Flipping her short skirt up out of the way, I grasped the base of my cock with one hand and, with the other on her hip, I rubbed my cockhead up and down her slippery cunt folds.  The sensation caused by the the three small rings in her labia were quit interesting.

 

"Since you feel that way about Hmongs," I asked as I pushed my cock into her tight slick pussy, "I guess you wouldn't be interested in doing piercings for me?" 

 

"Oh, I'll pierce the slut for you," the clerk said, looking back over her shoulder and arching her back to make herself more available, "I'll pierce the little twat with my dullest needle."  The clerk pushed against the display case, forcing her pierced cunt further onto my hard cock.

 

"Have you considered branding?"  The clerk asked, after we had settled into a mutually satisfying fuck tempo. 

 

"Branding, tattooing, scarring, I've thought about all of it.  I want to express my ownership of that slave's body in every way possible."  I was enjoying the act of fucking this young Asian cunt, and having another orgasm was not that important.  I continued to fuck until she had cum twice more, then I pulled my cock from her body and let her stand up while I pulled up my trousers. 

 

"Now let's do some business," I said as I picked up the clerk's sweater and handed it to her.