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- 
https://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.


  
TheWitness04