Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: Story of three schoolgirls kidnapped whilst in Europe, and abused at the hands of a sadistic trio. Feedback much appreciated.|
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. Contains adult themes. The author does not condone any of the actions depicted in this work. Please do not read if you are easily offended, or find it difficult to distinguish between fantasy and reality.
Author’s Note: I intend for this to be a long story, and so the beginning is a little slow, but I hope you will read it, just to set the scene. As this is my first story I would greatly appreciate any feedback whatsoever, any suggestions or ideas for the continuation of the story or the characters would also be much appreciated. Enjoy.
Olivia smiled as she stared into man’s exotic brown eyes, only half listening to him as he spoke to them. She was lost in her own world, mesmerised by the way he seemed to be looking at her, as if she were the only girl in the world. It seemed like hours he was looking at her, though in fact it was only a few moments as he kept the whole group engaged, making sure he gave each one of them plenty of eye contact. Olivia couldn’t really remember why they were here, or how they had started talking to him, but to her it didn’t seem to matter. Her classmates, the trip, her studies and especially the time had all fallen from her mind as she became ever more engrossed by the man, both his stories and, as she looked directly at him, his astonishingly handsome face. She couldn’t help but play with her hair as she stared at his light brown features, his chiselled jaw, his big brown eyes, and as her eyes moved down, onto his bulging biceps, and onto the t-shirt he wore which was stretch to its limits. She bit her lip slightly as she imagined what would be underneath, and as the thoughts of spending the night with him ran through her head. She was not alone either. In fact, all three of the girls sat there entranced by the mysterious man.
They were quite a sight themselves. The three of them were on a school trip, taking in the sights and culture of Germany for a couple of weeks, and the coach had arrived for a few days in Munich. All three of the girls were 18, and had been given some free time to explore the city before the coach moved on to Berlin. Olivia was sat directly in front of the man. She was a relatively small girl, just a shade over 5 foot, but her lack of height did not make her any less attractive. She had a full head of blonde hair, which hung just below her shoulders, and which contrasted perfectly with her large blue eyes. She was beautiful; a face that could go from innocent to sexy in the blink of an eye, a mouth that always looked like it would break into a broad smile. It was her infectious personality coupled with her cheeky sense of humour which contributed to her popularity amongst her peers, both male and female. Her good looks and body also contributed to her appeal with the opposite sex. She kept in shape by splaying casual sport, and so her body was fit and firm without being muscular. Her breasts were a full C cup, although on her small frame they looked much bigger, and coupled with her petite arse she was always getting attention off men, particularly when she wore shorts, as she was this evening, which showed off her shapely legs. She knew she was attractive, and often used it to her advantage to get what she wanted off boys, earning her the reputation as a bit of a tease. However, she did enjoy sex, although she would keep her private life discreet and very few people knew what she got up to. As she sat in front of the man, her loose fitting top hanging down and giving him a tantalising glimpse of her substantial cleavage whenever she leaned forward, she wondered if tonight by the night for a holiday romance.
To her left was Lucy, who at 5’10 was the tallest of three girls. She was different to Olivia in almost every conceivable way, from her height to her looks to her personality. Her long black hair was worn in a ponytail, showing off her high cheekbones, her piercing green eyes and her inviting blowjob lips. Whereas Olivia had the face of a cheeky, though gorgeous, girl next door, Lucy’s model good looks were much harsher, and gave her an air of superiority that she liked to play up to. Though she too was popular, she didn’t have nearly the same universal appeal as her friend, though interest from men was much more forthright. She was well known for fucking a lot of people, although they were usually older men who had little in common with the teenagers who knew her, but that didn’t stop them drooling over her. Her height was accentuated by her long legs, which in the heels she wore this evening looked like they went on forever, and though she had rather small breasts she could still make enough cleavage to give herself the whole package. As an accomplished cross-country runner she was very physically fit, and her round arse just highlighted her sex appeal. Indeed, she had already shagged two different men on the trip, and so the attentions of this stranger were more than welcome.
The final girl was Holly, who with her angelic innocent face and her shortish brown hair, could easily have passed for a girl three or four years younger. However, one glance at her chest showed anyone looking that she was a woman. Even on her 5’7 frame, her Fs looked huge, perfectly symmetrical and without a hint of sag, they were every teenage boys dream. However, Holly did anything but show them off. Wearing sweatshirts and loose fitting clothing she hoped to hide her considerable assets, but this didn’t help avoid the leer of everyone, particularly the younger boys at school who would often spend their break and lunchtimes leering through the windows of the sixth form common room to try and get a glimpse of her much coveted breasts. Given her large bust she knew she had to work hard to keep her figure, and playing in the same hockey team as Olivia as well as spending time in the gym gave Holly a beautiful hourglass figure, making her desire to cover up all the more infuriating. The loose fitting dress she wore out that day was one of her most revealing, showing off much of her legs, although it still kept her chest well covered. Despite her excellent body, Holly’s embarrassment at the size of her breasts plus her natural shyness compared to the other two girls meant that she didn’t have much luck with men. Though she did not consider herself a prude, and was perfectly happy to talk about sex, even with boys, her belief that boys only wanted one thing from her meant she was still a virgin. However, tonight, when there was nobody she knew other than her closest friends, and with this gorgeous man in front of her, her mind began to contemplate changing that.
Olivia sipped her drink as she listened intently to the man talk to them in a thick European accent, all the while thinking about the body she imagined he had under his thin t-shirt. This wasn’t the first bar the girls had been in that night, but they had decided it looked nice and sophisticated, and in a city they did not know they thought it wise to stay on the main street. Lucy had immediately started flirting with the barman, a dark handsome chap who looked very flattered by Lucy’s attention. Olivia had stood with Holly waiting for their drinks, looking around to see if they could spot anyone interesting, or handsome. When she had seen him at the bar she had not been able to take her eyes off him, and the fact he had looked back at her had made her blush almost uncontrollably. When he had come over and introduced himself to them she could barely contain herself, although her natural charisma had shone through, and when he had offered to buy them a drink and invited them over to a table she had accepted gladly. Unsurprisingly, it was Olivia who was the most talkative of the girls, ascertaining his name (Mehmet), his nationality (Turkish), his age (25) and how long he had lived in Munich (3 years). She knew they ought to be careful how much they told him, given that he was a stranger, but such was his relaxed attitude, not to mention his rugged good looks, had put her instantly at ease, and she had told him more than she thought wise, but nothing that would have put her in any danger. Following that first drink, not the girls’ first of the night, came a second, and after about half an hour of conversation, Olivia was starting to feel it, and was even more enthusiastic than usual about the night in store.
“Hey,” she said, almost interrupting her own sentence, “I just need to go to the toilet, if that’s ok?”
“Yes yes,” Mehmet replied, “I will get more drinks?”
“No,” Lucy replied almost sternly, “we’ll get them when we get back.”
“Ah, smart girl. I am stranger after all.”
“Ok,” Olivia, who had been about to accept the offer of a drink, and was grateful to her friend for being more sensible, “see you soon!”
The girls left to go through to the toilets, and Mehmet sat back with his beer and took a long drink. He then pulled out his phone and began to type.
In the toilets, the girls were taking stock of what had already been a good evening for them.
“I’m going to shag him,” Lucy stated flatly, not even breaking a smile as she adjusted her make up in the mirror.
“You’ll have to fight us off,” Olivia laughed, as she came out of one of the cubicles.
“No problem,” Lucy, turning to face her friend, “or…?”
“You mean…” Olivia hesitated, making sure they were on the same page, “both of us?”
“Both,” Lucy smiled, “or all three? Holly?”
“Well,” came the voice from within the cubicle, “when in Rome.”
“Haha, go on Hols!”
“We could see if he has a friend,” came Lucy’s suggestion, “make sure none of us get bored.”
“How would we get them into the hotel?” asked Olivia, still not entertaining the idea entirely seriously, “I’m not sneaking out.”
“Such a swot,” Lucy said with faux disdain.
“Slut.” Holly replied, emerging out of the cubicle.
“We’ll just go back out and see what happens girls. Could be a night to remember!”
Mehmet sat back and waited for the girls to come back. He could scarcely believe his luck. He was often in this bar looking for girls, and he usually didn’t have much trouble finding them, or indeed of fucking them. His eastern charm coupled with his good looks and his sculpted body he could essentially have his pick of women in the bars of Munich. But as he ran his hand through his dark tousled hair he thought about what he had found that night. Three drop dead gorgeous English girls who all seemed up for a good time, not in Munich long, and all of them, he could tell, found him very attractive. He knew they were all 18, younger than the girls he usually found, but that was far from a negative. He had enjoyed speaking to them, particularly the one with the blonde hair, and was even more looking forward to fucking them, particularly given how they were all so different, from the quirky little blonde, to the leggy sultry one, and finally the shy one with, from what he could make out from under that dress, very big tits. Having sent a quick text, he signalled over to the barman, who gave him a cheeky wink back, and then stood as he saw his targets move back from the bathroom.
After another 45 minutes of drinking Olivia felt like she was very drunk, and though this seemed strange seen as she’d only had two drinks, she was still enjoying herself. She could tell Lucy felt it too, as her usual sexy and sultry demeanour had been replaced by a much happier, giddier girl, who was flirting outrageously with the barman who had come over to join them. Holly seemed to have come out of her shell and was talking with Mehmet. Indeed, both her friends seemed to be having a good time, and so Olivia decided to forget about her sense of unease, finished her drink, and then joined back in the conversation.
“Shit,” Holly exclaimed, “we have to….to…be back.”
“Back where?” Olivia replied, feeling equally disorientated.
“Nah we can stay a bit,” Lucy said as she broke off from the barman, who was busy touching her hair and whispering in her ear.
“No Lucy!” Olivia shouted, much louder than she had thought, with people on adjacent tables turning round to look, “otherwise Miss…..Miss…Wallig will…”
“Wallace!” Holly seemed proud to have corrected her friend.
“Hey no girls,” Mehmet said, who seemed coherent apart from his broken English, “we get you into taxi.”
“No no, we want to stay,” Lucy pleaded, though her eyes suggested she was miles away.
“No, we get you into hotel,” Mehmet stated authoritatively, “maybe after we meet you, yes?”
“Ok baby,” Lucy winked, then suddenly stopped as if realising how drunk she was.
Mehmet and the barman helped the girls into a car that was waiting outside. If the girls had not been so out of it they would have realised that this was not a taxi. The car was like a limo, with blacked out windows, and had they been lucid the girls would certainly not have set foot inside it, especially not with two strange men. But Olivia and her friends could barely support themselves as they were pushed through the door and into the car. Olivia couldn’t sit up straight, her face resting against the leather seats and a strand of saliva instantly running down her cheek. By this time none of the girls could even move, and neither Lucy nor Olivia noticed when Holly was literally thrown on top of them. Closing the door on the girls in the backseat, the two men walked round into the front, started the car, and drove off into the night.
Olivia’s head was pounding. She could barely remember anything from last night. The last thought she had was sitting in the bar with her friends…and that strange man. Her mouth was so dry, and as she tried to move saliva around it she found what appeared to be a large piece of plastic. Attempting to spit it out, she found that she couldn’t, and suddenly she began to panic. She opened her eyes, expecting to have to shield them from the light, but found that it was pitch black. She tried to move her arms, but all she could hear was a clinking sound directly above her. In increasing panic she attempted to move her legs, finding they were tied together, and that they were not indeed touching anything. She couldn’t move her hands, and with every movement she made with her body she could hear the same clinking sound above her head. Now Olivia was really panicking. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled whine. Again she screamed, again nothing happened other than her muffled sound, and that clinking sound again. Olivia stopped to think, her head still pounding from the night before, as she contemplated her situation. She could not remember anything after the bar, anything after that man. Maybe she was at his house, maybe she was safe, just so hung-over she could barely move. Maybe this was a dream that she would shortly wake from.
It was then that she heard another muffled whimper to her right. This too was accompanied by a clinking. Olivia listened intently, and once again she heard the rattle of metal on metal and the sound of a stifled scream. Olivia responded in kind, as if hoping to communicate with whoever was making the sound. Then in a moment of silence, as Olivia’s mouth and throat began to burn, she heard yet another moan, this time to her left, and suddenly a terrible thought popped into her head. She had heard two distinct sounds, one on either side of her, and given her last memories of the night before, and the people she was with, she had a truly awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.
With that, there was a creak and the sound of footsteps echoing down. There was for a split second a small chink of light, allowing Olivia just a momentary glimpse of her surroundings, not enough to take anything in at all, but just enough to let her know that this was really happening. The footsteps grew louder and louder, until it became clear there was more than one pair of feet, different types of shoes, until eventually the footsteps grew so loud against the floor that Olivia knew that somebody was standing in front of her. Olivia held her breath, as if by remaining perfectly still she could avoid whatever terror it was in front of her. For a few tense moments there was silence.
The sudden sound cut through Olivia just as much as the blinding light that appeared just a moment later. Having been in pitch blackness, this light despite being only moderately bright, enough to light up an average sized room, she felt like she had been blinded, and her eyes took a moment to get used to it. When she was finally accustomed to it, she opened her eyes. Her heart sank.
Taking in the contents of the room, Olivia was filled with a blind panic. The light didn’t illuminate much of the room, which looked huge, and there were dark shadows in the corners. What she could see terrified her. To her right, just in front and facing slightly inwards was Holly. Though dressed in the same loose summer dress and sandals that she had worn the night before, this was not the same girl. All the joy that she usually had in her wide brown eyes that Olivia loved so much about her best friend was gone. Holly was hanging by her wrists from a chain suspended from a large hook in the ceiling. Her wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick white rope, her feet hovering just a few inches above the floor. Tears streamed from her big round eyes down her cheeks, and dripped onto her dress just above her breasts. In her mouth was a large red ball gag, stretching her jaw obscenely wide. Olivia recognised it as the same apparatus in her mouth, and she knew the discomfort her friend was going through. Turning her head, Olivia saw Lucy to her left, her other friend in the same predicament, the same plunging dress and heels she wore the previous night, her sultry eyes equally devoid of the raw sexuality she usually exuded. Slowly Olivia scanned the rest of the room, what she could see, and tears welled up in her eyes. All sorts of apparatus, equipment, toys and devices seemed to fill the room. What looked like a modified wooden rocking horse, a device she recognised from her history lessons as a rack, a heavy wooden table with metal rings and stirrups upon which a car battery sat, and on part of a rack that was only partly visible in the dim light, a collection of whips. Olivia didn’t even begin to guess what other horrors awaited her in the corners of the room, buts she had never been so scared. She hung her head, staring directly at the floor in front of her, when she saw the tip of a pair of shoes.
In front of Olivia was a woman. She could tell as much as soon as she saw the size feet in the black leather boots that rose steadily up her legs, criss-crossed with laces. Just above the top of the boots was a pair of fishnet stockings, helped up by a pair of leather suspenders. There was nothing covering the woman’s genitals, and her pussy was immediately visible, a thin triangle of fine blonde hair pointing into it. The woman also had her navel on display, before a tight leather corset, done up from the back, which pushed her breasts together to form a very meagre cleavage. Her neck was long, rising out of her prominent colour bone. Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the woman’s face. She had the harshest most unforgiving features Olivia had ever seen, cheekbones so prominent that it looked like you cut yourself on them. Her nose was small and thin, and her mouth was pursed, almost into a snarl, although her face gave off no emotion. But it was her eyes which caught Olivia’s attention. They were relatively narrow, but a bright, brilliant green, and emotionless. She looked as if she were dead, so cold and unforgiving were her eyes, and even as they flitted from one hanging girl to the next, Olivia could still feel her piercing hair. The woman was obviously a lot older than the girls, looked late 30s, but she was still strikingly attractive without being beautiful, and her wrinkles were reduced by her hair, which was pulled back tightly into a bun at the back of her head. In her hand she carried a long thin black riding crop. On either side of her were two men, one Olivia recognised as Mehmet, the other was the bartender from the bar they were in the night before. Both were heavy set and tall, wearing black shirts and black trousers, with shiny black shoes, and had the same dull expressionless face. Despite the two men either side of her, easily bigger than her, the woman’s green eyes set against her pale skin and the black she was wearing sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. The woman stood there for what seemed like an eternity, before she spoke.
“Hello girls. My name is Greta Schweinberg. Welcome to my home.”
She spoke deliberately, as if savouring every word. Her accent was obviously European, and by the name Olivia guessed German, but she spoke English with an almost American twang, though that was far from Olivia’s thoughts. She took long pauses between each sentence, making sure to look every girl in the eye several times.
“You have met my friends Mehmet and Hasan. They saw you in the bar in Munich. They liked you. They thought I would like you. They spiked your drinks and brought you here. I must say they were right. I do like you. I am sure I will enjoy you.”
This last sentence elicited a whimper from all three girls. During the whole ordeal they had all clung to a faint hope that this was all a dream or at the very least some horrible practical joke. But hearing this woman speak, every word dripping from her mouth like venom, made it all too real.
“You belong to me now. I will do whatever I want with you. I will hurt you. I will abuse you. I will let Mehmet and Hasan fuck you until you cannot take anymore. Then they will fuck you again. You will also learn to do whatever I want you to. If I tell you to suck their dicks, you will do it. If I tell you to lick my cunt, you will do it. If I tell you to torture your friend, you will do it. Failure to comply will be met with more serious consequences than you can possibly imagine.”
All three girls were now in floods of tears. The woman did not react at all as her property sobbed around her. Her vulgar choice of words brought home to them just how serious their predicament was, and the monster that stood in front of them. Her English was practiced, impeccable, and spoken so chillingly that even Mehmet and Hasan were a little taken aback. She continued to talk at them, conveying no emotion whatsoever, while her sidekicks stood there unmoving.
“It will take time to learn your place. You are English. You are arrogant. You are soft. You do not know how to behave. That will not be tolerated here. You will learn self control. You will learn discipline. You will learn how to please both men and women. Learning will be hard. It will hurt. You will go through pain you cannot imagine. Even if you behave I may still hurt you. I enjoy it. Mehmet and Hasan will enjoy it. They are Turkish. They hate Western women. You will call me mistress and them your masters. Welcome to Schweinberg Castle.”
There was a moment of silence as Greta allowed the girls to take in what had been said to them. Olivia’s head was swimming, and not just from the night before. She couldn’t believe what she had heard. This woman had kidnapped them, for no reason other than to hurt them. She had read about this in newspapers, in horror films, but never did she imagine it might happen to her, on a school trip with her best friends. However, she wasn’t going to get too much time to think about it.
“We’ll start with the blonde.”
Mehmet and Hasan moved forward. Hasan grabbed Holly and pushed her backwards, until she was behind Olivia, the hook obviously on some kind of rail toward the back of the room. Olivia noticed that Hasan had strategically placed his hands on Holly’s chest. Mehmet did likewise with Lucy, until Olivia was hanging there by herself, with the woman staring at her menacingly. The two Turks came back to flank either side of her. She nodded. Mehmet delved into his pocket and pulled out a flick knife and walked toward Olivia, whose eyes had opened wide, her screams stifled by the ball gag in her mouth. Hasan walked round behind her as Mehmet approached, and suddenly she felt two hands on her hips. He pushed her forward, on a similar rail, toward the woman then turned her round, so she could see her two friends looking back at her. Mehmet brought the knife up to her face and brushed it against a cheek, causing Olivia to flinch away from the cold steel, and causing a smile on Mehmet’s face. He brought the knife slowly down her, following the contours of her face, down her neck, and down onto her chest. He paused for a moment, the brought the knife down quickly. The front of Olivia’s loose vest peeled in two, revealing a plain white bra and the cleavage she had been cheekily flaunting the night before. Mehmet winked at her, and then pulled down on the fabric that had been her vest, tearing the shoulders away easily and letting it fall into a pile on the floor. Mehmet brought the knife over the tops of her breasts, tracing the outline of her bra with the tip of the knife, and then brought the flat of the knife down lightly on the top of her breasts. He then traced down her cleavage and put the knife between the cups in her bra, hooking it underneath the fabric. He then pulled the knife towards him. Olivia’s bra parted like the Red Sea, the cups falling to either side, her breasts bouncing into view. They hung perfectly, looking substantial on her small frame, topped by small pale nipples that were place perfectly on each globe, erect from fear. Both Mehmet and Hasan’s mouths dropped open a fraction as they saw her assets freed for the first time, though Mehmet couldn’t help but steal a glance at Holly. Having cut off the shoulder straps to leave her bra in the same crumpled pile as her top, he moved his free hand and up underneath her left breast, holding it, weighing it in his hand. Giving it a light squeeze he bounced it up and down slightly, as if getting used to how it felt. His right hand brought the knife tip to her other nipple, toying with it, pressing the blade against it without cutting the skin.
“Play with them later Mehmet,” the woman snapped, “let me see the rest of her.”
The Turk reluctantly moved his hands away from her tits, though continued to trace the tip of the knife down her toned stomach, enjoying the way each muscle flinched away from the metal. Meanwhile, Hasan grabbed at the denim shorts Olivia was wearing and pulled one side out there was space between her hip and the fabric. Mehmet traced the knife into the gap and began to slice through the garment surprisingly easily, making short work of even the thick denim. Quick as a flash Hasan and Mehmet had cut through the other side, leaving only the crotch of the shorts sandwiched between Olivia’s bound leg that kept it on her body. Mehmet slipped his thumb underneath the hem of the shorts, just grazing the top of Olivia’s pussy through her underwear, then tugged hard forward. The coarse fabric ripped across the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and Olivia squealed as her legs exploded in pain. Mehmet and Hasan both smiled as they heard her muffled whimper, and let the ruined garment drop to the floor with the rest of her clothes. Only her white underwear now gave her any semblance of privacy, her tits already bared for all to see. Once again she felt the cold knife against her skin, and again, as Mehmet made short work of her cotton underwear, and pulled it through her legs again, eliciting another whimper as the fabric moved over her sore inner things. Now Olivia was naked, save for the shoes she had worn the previous night. All her charms were on display, her breasts, her legs, her stomach, her arse and just the top of pussy, in front of her friends, these two strange brutes and that woman.
“Move!” Greta’s snap accompanied by the crack of the riding crop against her leather boots. Mehmet and Hasan moved behind her quick as a flash, their eyes never leaving the limp nude body of the girl in front of them.
“Let’s see what I’m working with.”
Greta moved closer toward Olivia, who kept her head down the entire time. She brought the riding crop to Olivia’s face, and tapped her chin as if to demand that the girl look at her. Olivia was too scared to defy her, and looked straight up at the woman’s eyes. Greta was very impressed with what she saw. The girl was naturally beautiful, not using too much make up like so many women did these days. As she moved the riding crop down, past her breasts and onto her stomach, she could tell that the girl took care of her body. Greta moved round to inspect the rear of her new toy, her boots echoing on the hard stone floor, her crop trailing across Olivia’s soft skin. The view from behind was just as good from behind. Though she was small, Olivia’s legs were slender and still desirable, and topped by a beautiful peachy round arse. Greta smiled as she tapped each cheek with her crop. Then she brought it down hard on Olivia’s right arse cheek. Despite the gag the scream was just about audible, and brought a smile to all three of the kidnapper’s faces, and a whimper from the two girls.
“Just a little taster,” Greta smirked.
Next she moved a little closer to the girl, and brought her hand out to touch her, just where a red mark was developing. She brought her hand slowly across the girl’s cheeks, her long sharp nails just grazing the surface of her skin. Running her index finger down the cleft of Olivia’s buttocks, she pushed her hand through her legs until she could feel the girl’s pussy. She ran her finger up and down the lips a few times, savouring the way her muscles tightened as she went close to her opening. Greta moved round the front, tracing her long nails across the girl as she did so. She traced up towards the girls breasts, just using the tips of the fingers on her right hand. Olivia flinched again as Greta’s fingers played with her nipple, rolling the sensitive little bud between her thumb and forefinger. Tossing her riding crop to the side, Greta ran the fingers of her left hand up Olivia’s legs toward her pussy. Whilst her right hand was toying with the nipple, Greta’s left hand began to rub up and down Olivia’s opening, making sure to use her sharp nails on the sensitive flesh. As she slipped a finger into Olivia’s vagina, she began to flick her nipple with her right hand, catching the flesh with the tips of her finger. Olivia moaned with a mixture of shame and pain, this woman doing whatever she wanted with her. The invasion into her pussy was almost unbearable for her, and the scratching on the sensitive walls of her vagina made it even worse. Greta pulled out, and ran her fingers up till she found Olivia’s clit. She toyed with it for a while, just as she toyed with her nipple, before pulling away abruptly.
“Very nice,” Greta snapped, “very nice indeed. Mehmet tells me you like to talk, Olivia. You will not talk yet. You will see what you are good for. All you are good for. From now on all you do is please us. I am sure you will be very good at it. Now boys, who’s fucking this one?”
Mehmet looked at Hasan. They both understood that whoever finds the girls should get to go first. Hasan moved over to Olivia and bent down by her ankles, while Mehmet began to unbutton his shirt. She saw the man bent down by her ankles with a knife, knew that she was about to get fucked and tried desperately to move away, the chain above her clinking as she tried desperately to get away, but there was no escaping his grasp. He held her legs firmly in one hand, and then sliced through the rope with the knife. With her legs free Olivia tried to kick her assailant, but he was too strong, and all her exertions had done was cover her body in a thin film of sweat, making her body glisten in the dim light. Meanwhile Mehmet had stripped down to his underwear, and Olivia looked up just in time to see him reveal his manhood. Her eyes went wide when she saw the size of it, springing up as he pulled down the waistband it was at least 9” long, and almost as thick as her wrist. She had had sex before, and so was used to the feel of a cock inside her, but she knew she had never had anything like this. As he approached Hasan went round the back of her and pressed his body against hers, moving his hands down between her legs then yanking them outwards with surprising force, splaying Olivia’s legs wide and displaying her pussy to everyone in the room. She blushed with shame as she saw Mehmet looking at her with smirk on his face, as she saw her friends hanging their heads in shame for their friend, and all the while the penetrating stare of the woman looking straight through her. Mehmet came closer until the tip of his circumcised cock was just centimetres away from the entrance to her pussy. She closed her, trying to shut out what was about to happen. Mehmet slapped her.
“No pretty baby,” he smiled as he said it, “you look at me.”
He held his dick in his hand, precum just dripping from the end of it. Olivia looked up at him. She thought back to the night before, when she had thought excitedly about what was underneath his shirt. She had been right, he had an almost perfect body, his abs perfectly defined, his chest and shoulders strong, his arms the stuff of girl’s dreams. But right now all that muscle was terrifying, and the glint in his eyes as he looked at into hers caused to well up in her eye.
“Don’t cry,” he said, moving one hand up to her left breast and slowly squeezing it, “we are going to have the fun.”
With his right hand he began to massage her pussy, as if trying to get her ready for him, but he didn’t try too hard. In actual fact he wanted her to be dry for this one. Although it might be a bit painful for him, it would be worse for her. This first fuck was to show her what she was in for, what her life would be like now. The more it hurt the better.
“MMMMPHHH,” Olivia tried to plead with him, with her eyes and muffled whine, but he was not interested.
“OK,” came the reply, “just me.”
With that he moved his cock right up to the entrance to her pussy, so that the very tip was just inside. Hasan had been holding her legs open the whole time, and though he loosened his grip, he stayed firmly behind her, so as to give him something to fuck her against, and get deeper into her.
With that order Mehmet rammed home. Olivia was shocked by the brutality with which he thrust into her. There was no easing in, no foreplay. In one thrust his shaft was entirely buried in her vagina. She had felt the full force of it as well. Hasan was so strong he hadn’t budged an inch on impact, and so all of the power in the man’s thrust had gone straight into Olivia’s dry pussy. He held it there for a moment, savouring the feel of her young tight cunt, and the pulled back, rasping over her walls again. Once he had withdrawn until just the tip of his penis was inside, he slammed forward again. Olivia had closed her eyes, and so he put his mouth down to her tit and bit hard on her nipple.
“Look at me bitch.”
Olivia stared into her rapist’s eyes as he pulled out and thrust in again. Her pussy felt like it was on fire. She had never felt so full. It was the biggest she had ever had, and the walls of her vagina were stretched to their limits, and without anything to lubricate her it felt like sandpaper was being rubbed inside her. Although she kept her eyes on him, the tears in her eyes prevented from seeing his face as he plunged into her again and again. She could scarcely believe this was the same charming man as last night, now treating like nothing more than a piece of meat.
“Good Mehmet,” came the emotionless voice, “make it hurt.”
Mehmet began to pick of the pace of his thrusts, each one pounding into her like a sledgehammer. The lack of lube meant that each thrust was painful for him too, but he took solace from the fact that his pain was nothing compared to the girl underneath him. This was not the first time he had done this, and his ability to do it was one of the reasons he was in this position now. He savoured the tears rolling down Olivia’s cheeks as he pounded in and out of the poor girl. He looked down at her breasts as they bounced wildly up and down with each thrust. With One free hand he reached and grabbed one of her tits, kneading it roughly, sinking his fingers into her flesh as he pounded in and out of her. The he brought the other hand up and pinched her nipple tightly, pulling it away from her chest.
Olivia was in so much pain. The piston pounding away inside her pussy felt like it would set her on fire, and if it didn’t do that it would burrow right through her. Her back was aching from being slammed against Hasan, who had remained unmoved throughout the rape. Now Mehmet had turned his attention toward her breasts, and while he painfully mauled the right one, he was tugging so hard on her left that she thought it might rip off. Soon she felt wetness inside her, and for a moment she thought her body might have betrayed her. But she soon realised that was the case, and the fact that she was now bleeding left her panicking even more than before, and she could tell from the look of pride on Mehmet’s face that he knew what had happened as well.
“She is bleeding,” Mehmet crowed, with what was unmistakably pride.
“No no, she has had cock before.”
“Good boy,” Greta barely acknowledged this new information, “don’t stop.”
Knowing how much pain he was causing her only spurred Mehmet on. However, he wanted to do more than hurt her, he wanted to humiliate her. With the hand that had been tugging on her nipple moved up to her head, and stroked her cheek delicately, as if her were making love to her for real. He then moved his hand behind her head and pushed it toward him, until their faces were mere centimetres apart. He then leaned in and kissed her, first on her mouth, with the ball gag still in and protruding, and then on the top of the head, as if they were lovers. The whole time his cock kept pounding into her, showing no mercy. He placed his forehead against hers, held it for a second, and then with his fingers wrapped in her soft blonde hair, pulled back hard.
The pain from having her hair pulled and her head snapped back was almost a relief for Olivia, as for a split second she didn’t have to look into his eyes. She could scarcely believe what was happening to her, and were it not for the burning pain in her pussy and her tits then maybe she would have tried to convince herself it was a dream. But it was real. She was shocked at how somebody could get so much pleasure from her pain, how her rapist had tried to act so tender, as if to tease her and bring home how far the reality was from her fantasy of the night before. But her relief was short lived as her head was jerked back in front of him.
Mehmet knew he was getting close, and he jerked her head so he could look into her eyes as he came. He thrust deep into her cunt one more time, pushing as far in as he possibly could, and then felt his whole body twitch as wave after wave of cum went shooting into her womb. He held her head close to his while the last strands of semen shot out of his cock and into her abused cunt. He winked at her then pulled out his softening dick, a pink trail of blood and cum connecting him to her. He milked the last remnants of jizz out onto the outside of her pussy, savouring the juice that was pouring out of her hole and onto the pile of clothes beneath her. Mehmet picked up the shred of cloth that had once been Olivia’s bra, and wiped the mess off his now limp cock, before tapping her on the cheek, pinching her nipple and bouncing her breast up and down a little, before walking off back behind Greta. Hasan promptly dropped Olivia like a sack of potatoes, her shoulders almost wrenching out of sockets as all her wait was once again taken on her arms. The second man also took his place behind the German.
“Well done Mehmet,” she spoke with the same emotionless voice she had had the whole time, as she turned toward Olivia, “do you think she enjoyed that?”
“No,” Mehmet replied with a smile, “but I did.”
“I’m sure you did,” Now she spoke directly to the girl, “and I’m glad you didn’t. If you think that was bad, you have a lot to learn. Look at me when I speak to you!”
This last sentence was accompanied by an almighty slap that seemed to set Olivia’s face on fire. She had been in something of a trance since her rape, not even thinking about what had just happened to her, but the stinging power of the blow brought her round immediately, and she tried desperately to look at the woman, despite the stars dancing in front of her.
“I hope you now realise you are no longer who you thought you were. No longer Olivia. No longer a pretty, cheeky little English who does what she wants. No longer do you even have control over your own body. You may do nothing without my permission. You may not speak. You may not piss. You may not shit. You may not cum. Not without my permission. The only reason you are breathing is because I allow it. Is that understood?”
Olivia was too shocked to even nod her head. Still reeling from the blow to her face, the speech she had just heard would have started her crying, if she had any tears left to give. But she knew that she had to answer. She had to do as the woman said, else the consequences would be more severe even than this. Slowly, meekly, she nodded.
“Good girl,” Greta tapped her on the cheek lightly, the same cheek she had struck with such force, “soon we’ll take that out of your mouth, and then you can address me properly. But not yet.”
She turned and strode back towards the two men. The purpose with which you walked was chilling, especially given the fact her voice hadn’t changed at all. Greta had of course enjoyed watching Mehmet rape Olivia. She knew what had been going through the girl’s head, besides the pain of the fucking the shock that the kind gentle man she had met had raped her so brutally. That the man she had thought maybe she would have sex with voluntarily, who she would quite readily given herself to, had taken such pleasure in the pain he had caused her. It was the first in many, many enjoyable steps on the road to breaking these girls. But Greta wouldn’t rush, she would take her time, savouring every moment of pain she and the men inflicted on their new toys. She whispered something into Hasan’s ear, and he nodded.
“Then hang her back up, we’ve got much more to do.”
Hasan and Mehmet moved back toward Olivia, who tried to back away in fear. But this time the men seemed more relaxed, less intimidating. They completely ignored Olivia as she tried to move her legs away, acting as if she wore nothing more than an object they had to move. First Mehmet took off her shoes, the last remaining item of clothing though it offered her little protection. They took the rope that bound her wrists off the hook above her and placed her on the floor. Working quickly, they cut through the rope binding her wrists together and without giving her a moment’s respite, pulled her arms down and bound her wrists together behind her back. Mehmet then bent the girls legs back on themselves until her heels were touching her wrists, tied her heels together and then secured her arms and legs to each other. Meanwhile, Hasan took a length of rope and tied it around her stomach, before tying the loose end to her hands and feet, leaving a small loop at the end. Finally, Hasan took the girls hair, tied it into a pony tail and then tied that to the knot in the middle. Between them they then lifted Olivia up and put the loop round the same hook, suspended in the air. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.
Olivia couldn’t believe how quickly she had been brought down, tied back up and hung back up by the two men. Nor could she comprehend the callousness with which they had treated her, as if she were a joint of meat in a butcher’s shop. Her legs and arms were tied tightly behind her back and try as she might she couldn’t move them. Her head had been tied back so she could only look up, her face pointed straight ahead at Greta. The one thing she was relieved about was the rope around her midriff, which took the strain off her shoulders for the first time. The skill of the binding was illustrated by her body shape, which was perfectly parallel to the ground, save for her breasts which hung down beneath her. Greta pushed her slightly so as to check the bonds, flicked her nipples a couple of times, and then strode back to the other two girls.
“Ok then,” again she spoke with the same tone, “who’s next?”
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