Felicia (7 page)

He regarded himself in the full-length mirror one last time and stroked the beginnings of his beard. He had shaved it off previously for an extended business trip, doing so to convince potential investors that he was a cultured gentleman, not a potentially dangerous fanatic. He had done that several times in the past, and the ruse had always worked. The beard always grew back quickly. He brushed an imaginary speck off of the front of his robes before leaving his quarters. Selim should have all in readiness.

***

Felicia did not know what was coming. The only woman in the harem who spoke English, a beautiful young Indian girl named Neha, would not tell her. Neha had cared for her after she had been left in the harem for a while, helping her off of the platform, guiding her to a couch, bringing her a little food and water. Since she had been left manacled, she could neither feed herself nor quench her thirst herself, so Neha had patiently fed and watered her after gently removing the bit from her mouth. Felicia had asked her questions, many questions, but Neha would only answer a very few of them. Felicia now knew that the bulky man was named Selim, and that he was a eunuch. She did not learn much else. She had not had much time to rest either, before Selim had returned and taken her away to a small cell where he had freed her of the manacles, but not of the heavy chain around her neck. He had left her there. The cell was small, dark and uncomfortable, with not even a thin blanket to lie on. She did not know how long she had been kept there, wishing that she was somewhere else. Then Selim had come and taken her somewhere else, and she wished desperately that she was back in the cell.

Selim had taken her to a large, windowless room. She was standing in the middle of it now, her hands bound over her head and secured to a chain that hung down from the ceiling. The room was utterly bare and a bit chilly, with cinderblock walls painted drab gray and a cold cement floor painted the same shade of gray. The eunuch had tied her so that she had to stand on her toes. Now she shifted her weight from one leg to the other whenever she felt a cramp in her leg coming on. She was having to do that more and more frequently. She wondered how long they would leave her like this, and what they had planned for her. At least the chain was gone from around her neck now, though it lay coiled on the floor where she could see it.

The lone door to the room banged open, making her jump. She saw Selim enter first, followed by the man Neha only referred to as ‘sayyid’, which she’d said meant ‘lord’. He was wearing his full Arab regalia now, and he was carrying what looked like a short whip. Felicia’s stomach knotted up and she pressed her thighs together without realizing it.

Then more men entered, six in all, and lined up along the wall, grinning wickedly. Felicia tried to back away from them, but it was useless. The head man came over to her. Even standing on her toes, Felicia had to look up at him, seeking for some clue as to what he intended. He was not smiling at all, but there was a smoldering look in his eyes that made her turn her head away. He seized her jaw in his hand and forced her to look back at him. She saw Selim come up next to him. The big eunuch held up something so that she could see it clearly. She had seen something like it once before, on an internet site that wasn’t at all what she’d thought it was. It was a wide, thick black strap. In the middle of it was a glossy black rubber thing that was shaped like the first few inches of an erect penis. She knew what it was, even if she couldn’t remember the name for it.

“You will open your mouth for this, slut,” the head man told her. “And you will allow Selim to fasten it tightly, or I will whip you.” He held up the short whip, braided black leather attached to a short handle. Felicia saw it and whimpered.

“Do you understand, slut?” he demanded. Eyes wide, Felicia nodded as best she could with him still holding her by her jaw. She managed to open her mouth by tilting her head back. The eunuch thrust the cock part of the gag between her lips, mashing it down. It was almost long enough to trigger her gag reflex. She kept still as he buckled the thing snugly in place. The bit gag had been bad enough. It was impossible not to drool with it in her mouth. This one was worse, humiliating and debasing all at once, the more so since every one of the six men standing there watching had seen what the thing was, had seen her willingly open her mouth for it. The fact that she’d done so under threat of a whipping if she didn’t made no difference. And whoever had made the thing had made the cock part of it just a bit too thick. No matter how she tried, Felicia couldn’t get her tongue away from it. It was also far too lifelike. She had some experience with fellatio, not that much because she didn’t really care for it, but aside from the hard, rubbery consistency of the thing, it felt exactly like a cock stuffed between her lips, down to the sensitive, v-shaped area on the underside of the head and the big vein that ran the length of it.

Ismail turned to the assembled men. “Look how eagerly she took it in her mouth!” he said. The men all laughed harshly.

Felicia had no idea what he’d said, but she was sure it was about her and it had something to do with the gag. She felt her cheeks burning and looked away from the avid leers of the men.

“Now, slut,” Ismail turned back to the girl and spoke in English. “Spread your legs, or I will whip you.”

Felicia wailed. It was becoming unbearable to stand as it was. Didn’t he know that if she spread her legs as he ordered she’d have to hang by her wrists? She looked into his eyes, as difficult as that was for her to do…they were dark and piercing and always chilled her…and saw that indeed he knew, and he didn’t care. He held the whip up in front of her face and smiled.

“Do you want the whip?” he asked mildly. Felicia wailed again and spread her legs until she was just able to support herself on tiptoes. She felt someone tying ropes around her ankles and realized that it had to be Selim, the eunuch. When he had finished, she found that she couldn’t bring her legs back together at all. She risked a look down and saw that there was a heavy pole keeping them apart. She began struggling, but she was tied too securely. All her efforts got her was exhaustion.

“Look how eager she was to spread her legs for us,” Ismail said to the watching men. “Truly, she craves for men to use her body. And now look how wantonly she displays herself in front of us, jiggling her breasts to inflame our lusts. Should she be punished for this?” There was an answering cry from the men. They sounded to Ismail much like a pack of hungry wolves.

He was speaking in his own language again. Felicia didn’t know any of the words, but he kept pointing at her with the whip handle, so she knew that he was talking about her. And the horrible sound that the watching men made once he had finished speaking told her that she was going to be raped again, probably by all of them. Tired as she was, that thought gave her a sudden burst of frantic strength that proved to be just as useless as all of her previous efforts. All the head man did was step aside and let her fight herself limp. It didn’t take long before she was hanging by her wrists, gasping and sobbing through her nose. All she had done was turn herself so that she was facing away from the men and bring fresh pains to her arms and legs. Her toes scrabbled on the cement floor to take some of the weight off of her wrists, if only for a little while. She had just succeeded in doing that when the head man seized her by her hips and roughly turned her to face directly towards the men. She shrieked at the sudden fresh agony in her shoulders, the sound almost completely muffled by the obscene gag in her mouth. She felt him press up behind her to keep her in place, and then his hands came up to cup and squeeze her breasts for the benefit of her audience. He was saying something again, punctuating his words with occasional harder squeezes. The watching men seemed to go completely wild, howling and clapping and ululating, though they stayed where they were. She felt consumed with shame to be treated this way, but there was not one damned thing she could do about it. The head man finished his tormenting of her by squeezing her breasts between his thumbs and forefingers to either side of her nipples, making them stand out. She sobbed with relief when he let go of her and stepped away and she could touch the floor with her toes, taking a little bit of the weight off of her arms. That relief was short-lived. He spun her around to face him and once more pressed himself up against her, his hands cupping and squeezing her ass cheeks now. He smiled at her as he said something more to the men and their howls and cries grew even louder.

After a moment, he stopped squeezing but still held her close. “You have been an obedient little whore, “he said to her, his voice low, intimate, and unwelcome. “So I will not whip you.”

Felicia’s initial feeling of relief was almost instantly banished when she realized that this certainly meant that her gang rape was imminent. She looked up at him, her eyes tear-filled, desperately shaking her head ‘no’.

“Ah, so you wish to be whipped anyway?” he chuckled. “Very well. I will not whip you, but Selim will.” He let go of her and quickly stepped away. Felicia was just trying to look around and see where the big eunuch was when the first stinging lash struck across her ass. She jerked and shrieked. Then a second blow fell across the backs of her thighs and she shrieked again.

Ismail always liked to watch Selim at work. The eunuch was completely merciless to any woman put into his power, but he could be completely trusted to carry out his orders to the letter. He was also very skilled with any and all sorts of whips and rods, always striking in such a way as to inflict the maximum amount of pain at the least risk of real injury. Ismail had once given him a captive female just so he could watch Selim work. He had kept the female in agonizing pain for hours and hours until she passed out from sheer exhaustion, and yet two days afterwards she had been well enough to be returned to her husband to serve as a warning to him not to consider treachery against his sheik again.

Now the eunuch caressed the blonde slut’s lovely body again and again with the whip, drawing shrieks and wails from her as she jerked and twisted, desperately trying to avoid the next stinging kiss of the braided leather and failing every time. Ismail could see red lines marking the slut’s body, some of them becoming angry welts, but nowhere did Selim break her soft, soft skin.

A woman can take only so much. Before too long, the slut was hanging limply by her wrists, twitching and crying out weakly whenever Selim struck her afresh, but it was clear that she had no strength left to do anything else. Selim eyed the space between her legs and looked at Ismail inquiringly. Whipping her pussy might spur her to further struggling, but it was still early in her training and it was always wise to hold some punishments in reserve. Ismail shook his head ‘no’ and Selim shrugged and began coiling up the whip. Ismail gestured for him to hand it over instead and pointed up at the slut’s wrists. Selim nodded and complied. All the slut did was keen and sob as she was released from the hook hanging from the ceiling. Selim lowered her part of the way to the floor and then let her drop. She made a sudden tiny noise of pain as she landed hard on the cement, and then just lay there, stretched out, trembling and shaking and crying. Ismail nudged her once with his foot. He got no reaction from her, and indeed she seemed to be in a terrible state. But there was more to be done here.

“Selim,” he said. “Fetch a bucket and throw some cold water on this bitch. We are not done with her yet.”

Felicia shrieked as icy cold water splashed over her naked body. Now a chill was added to her accumulated aches and pains. She spluttered as the last of the bucket was dashed into her face. She tried to move, but her ankles were still bound to the heavy bar that kept them apart and her arms felt too weak to support her at all. Limp, exhausted, her mind dulled with pain, she lay there in the spreading puddle of cold water, unable to do more than weep and shiver.

Ismail let her be for the moment while Selim went to get his next tool. When he returned with it, he nudged the slut with his foot again, in the ribs and not gently.

“Up, you shameless whore,” he ordered. “Up on your hands and knees or I will have Selim resume your whipping!”

The threat stirred her as nothing else would have by then. Selim assisted her, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her upwards. She lacked the strength to do more than whimper at that. Soon she was on her hands and knees, her head hanging low, her wet hair obscuring her face, her long legs spread invitingly. Ismail saw his men all but drooling over her now, and noted approvingly that even in that position the girl’s teats were so firm that they retained their shape. The cold water had also affected her nipples in a most appealing way.

Felicia remained still, except for the shivering that she couldn’t help. The cold water had started it, but she thought that maybe she was going into shock after the brutal whipping she had received. The pain of that was bad enough, but the humiliation she felt at having it all done before an audience was burned into her mind. It left her feeling dirty, even though none of it was her fault. She thought that she was past caring what happened next, and then a vibrator was applied to her pussy.

Ismail saw the slut’s head come up abruptly. Her wet hair still covered much of her face, but he could see one eye, wide with surprise and apprehension.

“Remain still, bitch,” he snapped when it looked as if she was about to move. She turned her head just enough to look at him. It was clear that she hadn’t expected this. But she was so fatigued, both physically and mentally now, that she almost certainly wasn’t going to be able to try to do anything about it. As Selim slowly worked the vibrator up and down along her cunt, her head slowly sank lower and lower until he could no longer see her face.

“Is she ready, Selim?” he asked the eunuch.

“Not yet, lord, but she soon will be. We will know for certain when she arches her back.”

“Very well. Continue.” Ismail heard the slut moan once, feebly, and then moan again. Then her back arched, raising her cunt towards the vibrator. He supposed that she was not even aware that she was doing it.