Rape Fantasy
Alone
I woke up when the first rays of the sun hit my naked body through the window. I thought, "Perhaps today, I'll be allowed to see for awhile, perhaps today, I'll be touched, even if only the thin leather strands of my owner's whip". I then began the struggle to right myself once again. It is not easy to change position with your feet and hands shackled to a ring in the floor by only one link.
Long ago I had given up trying to get loose, even though I had become thinner on the meager rations, so that I could slip a finger under the shackles, the cold steel was unyielding. Besides, my partially successful attempt at escaping when I was first brought here is why I am bound in strong metal and why I have the thick leather hood locked around my neck, with only a hole for my nose and mouth.
When I was first brought here...how long ago was that? I really can't say. I do remember it quite well though. How I had violated the law. The two choices given. Be executed, or sold to those "On the other side of the river". The amazement of the people that I elected to be sold. "You will wish you were dead, and you won't be able to die". I had heard the tales, but they were too unbelievable, even if they were true, I'd rather be alive I thought.
I was stripped naked and my hands bound behind my back. I was marched onto the boat, never to set foot on my village soil again. The journey across the river was swift, I was brought to the trader, who gave the councilman the gold I was worth, and the boat rowed away quickly, as if they wanted to spend as little time on this shore as possible.
The men on this side of the river seem much stronger than those from my village, and were proud of their bodies, most wore nothing above the waist, and some only wore a pouch covering their organs, and heavy boots to protect their feet against the coarse gravel. Upon spotting us some came over and showed no hesitation in running their hands over my naked body, while chatting with the trader in a tongue that I did not understand. This was unnerving to me, but not nearly as much as when one of them grabbed my penis and started to stroke it. I pulled away, and the trader slapped my ass with his bony hand. This brought a chorus of laughter from the other men assembled.
Two of them who appeared to be friends of the trader then each grabbed my upper arm and forced me to follow them across the coarse gravel to a wooden construction that looked very similar to the rack to which condemned prisoners are tied for beheading in my village. I cried out protesting the trickery, if I was to die, why not at least in my own country. The trader and a couple of others who must have known my language laughed, which the rest of the crowd now assembled picked up on.
As I was put in the pillory, I realized that the device was actually quite a bit different than the execution rack in my village. My head and hands were securely locked in one wood, and I realized my neck was actually being protected, but my groin rested over another bar, at waist height, and my feet were strapped wide apart, and then more straps were placed around my knees and fastened to a point forward, making it impossible to move.
After I was secured, it seems like an argument started behind me, I couldn't really see because of the pillory. I felt some pushing and shoving near my exposed ass, and finally the argument seemed settled, and then I cringed when I felt a slippery substance being applied to my crack, then I felt something being pushed up my ass, but try as I might, I couldn't see what it was. I was really scared now, one of the tales was that they executed people over here by sliding a long stick up your dunghole until it came out your mouth, and left you there to die slowly, instead of the quick beheading practiced in my village. I cried out, which was greeted by laughter, which scared me even more, as it is said that the people on "the other side of the river" take great delight in torture.
But the "stick" didn't go in very far, it came out and was replaced by a much larger object, I tried to keep it out, but they just kept forcing it in, my eyes started to water from the pain, perhaps they actually used a log instead of a stick to execute people. Then someone other than the trader lifted my head and I was looking into a large bearded face, with rugged features and deep set eyes. The face then said in a quiet voice, "Relax, let it go in, it will be much easier for you". "But I don't want to die!" I exclaimed. "You won't, as much as you may want to, you won't, the trader paid good money for you and won't allow it". He then let my head drop, and I looked around the best I could to find him but he was gone.
I took his advice and relaxed my hole muscles as best as I could, and it did go in much easier, then I realized what the object was when I felt something warm against my ass cheeks, I was being fucked in my bung hole like a woman is fucked in her baby hole in my village. So this was what really happened, those who had spread the tale of the stick were probably too ashamed to tell what really happened. Some of the boys in the village would try fucking in each others bung holes, they say it was to practice for when they would take a wife, but it was always kept a secret, and never done where anyone else at all could see what was going on, in fact it was done only in the middle of a night with no moon, so that even those doing couldn't see it. And here I was, in the middle of the day, tied down helpless, with what must be the whole adult population of the village seeing what was going on.
These thoughts made my face turn red with embarrassment, and while I thought that most of the attention was on the penis now ramming in and out of my hole, some anyway must have been looking at my face, because I looked up, and someone was pointing at my face and laughing, which brought the rest of the crowd around to the front, and they all laughed and cried out a word I did not know.
The pumping of my ass grew more and more savage, and it began to hurt again, but all of a sudden it stopped, with the man's organ deep inside me, I thought I could feel it shooting it's white cream deep inside me. Then it slowly pulled out, and I heard the man exclaim something that sounded like a curse. The man quickly came around to my head and lifted it up and showed his penis to me. It was covered with the lard that was used to grease my hole and some brown stuff which I realized was my own dung. the man shouted angrily at me, and shoved the dirty penis in my face, I did not know what was expected of me until the trader said, "It is dirty, he wants you to lick it clean for him". "NEVER", I cried out, "It is forbidden!". The trader answered "It is forbidden perhaps in your village, but you are no longer in your village, you are our slave and will do what ever we tell you". "NO", I said. I simply couldn't bring myself to do something that the chiefs had told us was forbidden ever since the beginning. In fact the legend says the reason there are two tribes, each on their own side of the river, is because of some that would suck on the penis. The trader said something to someone and a short time later, I heard the 'woosh' and felt the burning sting of a slender cane against my bare buttocks. "I don't care if you beat me until I pass out, I'm not going to put a penis in my mouth". "We shall see". The trader said.
There was a bit of commotion after the trader apparently translated our conversation. Then a chant started up from the men gathered about, It had three syll1bles, but I could not guess the meaning. The man who owned the dirty penis just stood there. Nothing else happened for what seemed like a long time, I was expecting to get beaten but it didn't come. The trader called to the owner of the dirty "dick", as I soon learned was the expression for penis here, and I wondered what they had decided to do with me now.
I felt something being pushed up my dunghole again, I figured that someone else wanted to fuck me and didn't care if their dick got dirty or not. But it was much too small to be a dick, Then I felt water going into me, it was a very peculiar sensation to have water put up one's bunghole, and after the initial surprise, not all that unpleasant. Then they took the water tube out and put something else in that proved to be even larger than the dick, I screamed as they tried to push it in. I tried to relax again, but it didn't help much. I screamed once again as it went past a very wide part, then I cried again as I no longer felt anything sticking in the hole, I thought that they had lost the object inside of me.
Then I figured that it must still have a portion sticking out as my captors put something that went around my waist and through my legs, right down my crack, forcing the object in still further. About the time they had finished strapping this plug in my dunghole, my guts started to protest the liquid in my gut, my belly rumbled and cramped, and I then realized why they went to all the pains to plug my hole. They wanted my guts to churn and hurt, they wanted to get it so it would be clean for more dicks later on.
The dirty dick owner then appeared again, holding his penis at my mouth again, But I still couldn't bring myself to do it. The caning started on my ass again, until I started screaming with every blow, I thought I felt something warm running down the back of my leg, I imagined my ass bleeding from the whipping, but it might have been some liquid forced past the plug in my hole. Then someone else starte4 whipping my back until I thought for sure it was cut open and then continued on both my back and ass at the same time. I became too tired and horse to scream out anymore, they stopped just before I passed out.
The dirty dick was presented again, and I figured I had won, I knew I couldn't be flogged anymore without passing out. Sure, the perverted owner of the dick could force it down my unconscious throat, but I wouldn't be violating the taboo, as I would not be aware of it, and I had made my very best effort to avoid it...Or had I? Now I know why so many chose death over being sent up the river. Indeed, I figured they had indeed given up when they pulled the stopper out of my dunghole and let all the water out, they filled me again, and I expected another session with the stopper and the churning and cramping belly, but they just left it in for a little while and repeated the filling and draining once more.
But I did not figure on the ingenuity of this tribe. While a second in line greased my now very clean dunghole and proceeded to fuck it, I heard some conversation and then the trader and the dirty dick man came back with an assortment of leather and wood pieces.
They talked between them in their own tongue, while untangling the leather. The trader motioned a third person over, and he and the dirty dick man put on very thick leather gloves. Then I realized their intent was to jam my mouth open, so I shut my jaws as tightly as I could. They tried to pull them apart, but I was able to keep my jaws tightly closed. The trader said something to the man that was fucking my hole, and after what must have been a bit of bargaining, the man quit before he had shot his load.
Suddenly my balls were hit with the worst pain imaginable, someone must have hit them with a whip, and I instinctively screamed, jaws wide open. The dirty dick man and his helper lost no time in jamming the wedges in my molars before I could close them again, although the helper got a finger pinched in there too. But I didn't get the satisfaction of drawing blood, the thick leather protected his fingers, and with my jaws partially open it was easy for my captors to free the helper's hand and finish securing my mouth open with a head harness that head my jaws fixed against the blocks, and my head tilted back at a perfect angle for a penis to be inserted deep down inside.
The penis which had been in my hole was now slowly being pushed in my open mouth. I could taste a slight peppery taste, which I later realized was bits of my own dung that the man wanted cleaned off. I scarcely noticed my dunghole being invaded again, my thoughts were on the fleshy organ being now pushed deeper and deeper into my throat. Then the man began to thrust as if he was fucking my face like a woman's baby hole, and it wasn't long before I felt something warm and thick shooting down the back of my throat, I had to swallow quickly to avoid choking on the man's cream, for surely that is what it was.
I suppose that the man was finally satisfied, he murmured something in his language to the trader and walked away, but I was quite wrong to suppose that my torture was over. The man using my hole was still pumping away, and another took his place at my mouth, but my embarrassment turned to wonder for a moment, because unlike the others, his dick did not have the blood engorged hardness of the others, but was limp and pale. He inserted it into my mouth anyway, and then I tasted a warm thin slightly sour liquid. He was pissing into my mouth! I tried to tell him to stop, but I couldn't speak with the dick in my mouth and my jaws still wedged open. The flow increased and I could no longer keep up with it, the excess flowed out of my mouth and I started coughing. At this point the trader made the pisser stop. With the penis out of my mouth I tried to tell him to stop this madness, but it came out, "Sta....sta......lease. ...ake....em...sta!!", which brought more laughter from the crowd.
"Oh, we've only just begun", the trader said, and a new set of dicks entered my mouth and hole. I lost track after the tenth man shot his cream deep into my guts, and even though each man used the lard to make the entry easier, my hole felt like it was on fire. At this point, someone took some of the lard in their hand and grabbed my penis and started stroking it. The sensation started to make it get hard, in spite of the other things being done to me. They kept up the stroking of my dick, while at the same time other men continued to fuck my hole and my mouth. The pain in my hole started to fade, and my aching muscles felt less tight. I began to feel real good inside, I closed my eyes and felt as if I was somewhere very pleasant. I was vaguely aware of the dicks pulling out of my face and hole when I started to shoot my cream onto the ground. I almost thought I would break free of my bounds and fly off like a bird, but with the power of an ox, but after my load was expended, I quickly came back to reality. I could hear the crowd cheering, that's right, cheering. I felt good about myself for the first time since arriving. At this point the trader said something, and his helpers took the harness off of my head, and released my head and wrists from the pillory, only to tie my wrists with broad leather straps, and raise my hands high over my head.
Now the embarrassment came creeping back again, I felt even more exposed than before, and fear over what was going to happen next. Now that I could see that over thirty people were out there, and all looking at my naked body, my back side covered with welts. I wanted to be any place but here. The trader then started speaking, and members of the crowd would hold up their hands and call out something. I realized I was being auctioned off like so many bushels of corn. I wondered who would buy me. Would they have me work in the fields I could see beyond this village? Would I row the boats that plied the river? Or was I to be tied down and used for sexual gratification, as was done |o me only a few minutes ago? The bidding resolved itself to two final competitors. One was the bearded man who whispered the advice to me while I was receiving my first fucking. The other was a shorter man with a ruddy face that looked older than most, and dressed as if he had a great deal of wealth. The bearded man must have won the bidding, as he stepped up to the platform and gave the trader some coins. They talked a bit and someone went behind me, and started doing something to my left asscheek like a needle stuck in it over and over, and over a place that had been whipped, I screamed, not really expecting it to do any good, but the bearded man said something to the others, and the pain stopped.
My arms were freed, but my waist was still securely strapped to the bar, and my legs and feet were also still fastened from before. The bearded man then came over to me and put his arms around me, and put his mouth up to my ear and said, "Hold me tight, it's almost over". Then he nodded, and the needles came again, but embracing him gave me the strength to bear it. Even after they were finished with the needles, he continued to hold me. I began to feel as if the bearded man really cared for me, Instead of being sold like a bushel of corn, I felt more like I was bought to be a pet. Perhaps life on the other side of the river wouldn't be so bad after all.
They smeared something soothing over the area where the needles had worked, and finished undoing me from the rack. I had to hold onto the bearded man, my legs were so stiff. I was soon able to walk, and the bearded man led me off the platform. The keeper held out a set of manacles, but my new owner declined them. I was in no condition to run off at this point anyway. I looked at my ass and could see a couple of symbols through the dried blood. "What is this?", I asked my owner. "It is my name, if you should get lost, anyone finding you will know to return you to me. I then asked what it said, and my owner replied, "You have no need to know it, when you speak to me, you will always address me as Sir."
I pondered this while we got into the wagon, my master had me sit on the buckboard next to him, and as we traveled along in silence until we were out of the village, then he said, "I'm going to have to teach you how to really suck cocks". "Cocks?" "Your people sure don't have many words for it, I mean penis". "Oh, please, don't make me do that, Sir!". "Why not? It wasn't so bad was it?", "You don't understand, Sir", "Well, there's one thing that *YOU* had better understand and learn it quick. You are still a slave and as such you will do whatever I wish, there is no further discussion". Things were not looking so well after all, it looked as if I was to be used for sexual pleasure more than anything useful, and an especially forbidden form of sexual pleasure.
I simply had to escape, but where would I go? I was marked so that anyone here would know where I belonged, and I would surely be returned, but then I noticed that the road was heading near the river again. I could jump off and try to swim to the other side. If I got caught by my village I would be executed, but I might be able to get to another place where they don't know about me. I would still have my mark but no one would have to see it once I could steal some clothes. The bearded man still had one arm around me, but then a possible opportunity showed up, and probably the last one.
The road took a bend about 100 feet from the shore, and headed inland from there. To execute the turn, my master would have to free both hands for the reins. At that point, I could run into the water, even though I was tired, I would have the element of surprise to my advantage. Sure enough, as we went into the turn he moved his right arm, I waited until he had a firm grip on the reins and started to slow for the turn and jumped.
I hit the ground rolling, as we were still going fairly fast, and I almost cried out when I rolled over my still sore back and ass, but managed to keep quiet, but it didn't make a difference. My master must have noticed the weight shift or something, because he had already brought the wagon to a halt and was leaping to the ground by the time I had regained my feet. I was committed at this point and took off for the shore, but he was faster than I and caught up with me just before I reached the water. He grabbed arm, threw me off balance and quickly had my hand; tied behind my back. He roughly led me back to the wagon, all the while mumbling something in his language. He pushed me roughly onto the rear of the wagon and then tied my feet behind my back to my hands. He then said in my tongue, "I really ought to go back to town and sell you off to that other bidder, show you a little kindness and this is what I get. He's rich you know, I could probably make a bit of profit off of you. And if you don't obey him, he'll torture you until you are either dead or crazy, and he wouldn't care, he'd just go to town and buy another slave." At this I became quite scared again, "Sir, Please sir, keep me sir, but don't ask me to suck your cock".
The bearded man then used some more rope to spread my knees wide apart and fasten them to the sides of the wagon. "I'll have to remember to tell him you don't like sucking cock, that way, he'll make you his exclusive sucking slave!". My master then turned the horse around and headed back to the village.
He stopped just short of the docks though, and I got my hopes up that he changed his mind about selling me. My heart sank when I saw the ruddy fellow who tried to outbid my current master come up and talk to him. I then saw my master taking some coins from the ruddy man and I cried. The bearded man then walked behind a building, and the ruddy faced man got in the wagon. I don't think he knew my language, he didn't talk to me, but pulled down his pants and pushed his cock to my face. I refused to take it, and was expecting some kind of punishment, but he simply got off the wagon and went behind the same building. Shortly thereafter he and another man I didn't recognize returned, each carrying something. The other man was carrying a measuring tape, and he measured all sorts of things on my body, paying particular attention to my head. He then left, and the ruddy faced man got on the wagon again and lit a candle, and let the hot wax drip on my wounds. When I cried out, he stuffed in a wedge device similar to the one that had been used on me before, and proceeded to fuck my face. However when he was done, he did not take his cock out, but used a strap to tie his head into his crotch, and I think he fell asleep in that position.
I do not know how long I was there, I couldn't see anything except the red pubic hair of what was to be my new master. I wondered why he didn't leave directly but chose to fall asleep here in the middle of town. I then remembered the measurements that were taken. They must have been for some clothing for me, at least I was to be dressed while living with a dick in my mouth. I then heard someone else returning, and the cock in my face woke up, it promptly grew hard and the strap was undone so that he could pump my face again. This time, after he had finished filling my throat with cream, he withdrew and got out of the wagon.
To my surprise the bearded man was there, holding some manacles and something else. The ruddy faced man then talked briefly and left. I was totally confused, the bearded man noticed my confusion and said, "No, I didn't sell you, I rented you out for awhile, as part of your punishment for running away, and now to make sure that you can't run away again."
As my master (my real master) put the shackles on he said, "You will be in bondage for the rest of your life, it may change from time to time, but you will never again know what it is like to be free". My master then helped me on to the buckboard it was very difficult to climb up in shackles. He gave me a deep kiss and then put on the hood, and after adjusting it so my nose would fit though the hole and so my mouth would be free, he locked it around my neck and said, "You will not see again until you are in your room, the room that will be your home for the rest of your life. I will control all that you see from now on."
The ride to his place was quiet, I tried to imagine where we were going, and I thought I heard the sound of the river, and felt the wagon make the sharp turn where I tried to escape a few hours ago, but from there on everything was a mystery. We arrived at his place and I could feel the surface change from dirt to wood. After walking a short distance, I was pushed down on the floor and my ankle shackles attached to a ring in the floor in front of me. My master then took the hood off, and I could see that the sun was just setting through a window in the west, the room had a window to the east as well, but all I could see through it was the darkening sky. I was shown the grate in the floor that was to be my toilet, just close enough for me to sit on, as well as my water bowel and dish for food.
"Now for the rest of your punishment", my master said, taking a whip from a hook. "No, please, leave me alone, I've had enough for one day". "You still haven't learned", he said, and then pulled my wrists over my head and pulled me on my back, stretching me out horizontal. I screamed even before the whip touched my chest. "I didn't even touch you yet, you scream". He shoved a leather gag in my mouth, shaped like a penis head, saying, "This will be good training for cock sucking". He then beat my chest until it was red and then lit a candle and started to drip it on my body. It hurt more than I thought I could bear, but then something strange happened, it didn't seem to hurt so much, and I thought I felt my penis getting erect. I looked up and it was even longer and harder than I had thought it was. He then started the wax dripping on my erect cock, and I struggled to get away, I could move only slightly, and he followed my movements with the dripping candle. He paused for a moment and it was a good thing I was on the floor already because every muscle in my body went limp after all the straining I had been doing to get away.
My master sensed this, and released my hands and took out the gag. He sat cross legged on the floor and set me on his lap, arranging the ankle restraints to be out of the way as possible and took me in his arms. I couldn't figure myself out, in spite of all the pain he put me through, I hugged him as he was hugging me. He whispered in my ear, "Why do you make things so hard on yourself?", I answered, "I really don't know Sir", He started to get up, and I said. "Please don't leave me alone Sir". He settled back down and said, "I must, it's part of your punishment and training, in fact you will soon be grateful for the times I just come in to flog you and fuck your hole, but I wouldn't go to all this trouble if I didn't care for you". He then got up and shackled my hands to the ring in front of me again, but kissed me gently before locking the hood over my head and closing the door shut.
Since then, I haven't left this room. My master or somebody would come in to bring food and change water, but wouldn't talk to me or touch me. It took a little while to get the hang of pissing and dumping in the grate blindfolded. And my master was so right, the one time I missed the grate, I was so thankful for the whipping, even though he did not take my hood off or otherwise touch me afterwards. I then remembered trying to get attention by messing up on purpose. That time, he tied a stopper up my ass and left me that way without food and *totally alone* for three days. I never tried to trick him again.
I hear footsteps. They are stopping outside the door. It's opening! Someone is coming in. They are stopping behind me, I feel his hand on my back. At the least, I'm going to get flogged today, and if I'm lucky, he'll take the hood off, and I'll get to see his beautiful face again.
----------------------------------------- Uploaded to The Club BBS by Wally Schwarz
Category Updated
Flash Play Button