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Island Of Slaves by Miguel De Riviera

EXTRACT FOR
Island Of Slaves 
(Miguel De Riviera)


Nansci Domokos knew she was risking trouble by hitchhiking alone on the West Coast Highway 101, but she had taken several precautions. She concealed her long chestnut hair carefully braided and tucked into a wide brimmed, high crowned cowboy hat. She wore no makeup to accent her sultry brown eyes and full lips. The charms of her slim body and generous breasts were concealed under a baggy waterproof coat that stretched to her mid thighs. Jeans and sensible boots covered the rest of her. Except for the worn blue jeans, everything she wore was a shade of brown. There was certainly nothing in her appearance to suggest she was anything but an average college student using her spring break to travel down the coast.
Nansci also had devised several rules of the road. She never accepted a ride if there were only men in the vehicle; or more men than women; and she made sure she was always off the road well before dark. These rules and precautions had served her well traveling across the state of Washington and now half way down the Oregon coast. It was late afternoon. While the sun would not set for another hour, she began to think of finding a place to set up camp for the night.
At that moment a ramshackle white van appeared down the road. It slowed and pulled up beside her. A middle-aged woman in the passenger seat rolled down her window and gave Nansci a friendly smile. The driver was another, larger woman with shoulder length white hair who didn’t speak but whose smile was also benign.
“Hi, Dearie. My name is Madge. Where’re you headed?”
“Are you going as far as Lincoln City?” Nansci asked hopefully.
“Well, Dearie,” Madge said in her soft tone of voice, “you’re in luck. That’s exactly where we’re going.”
Madge opened her door and stepped down. She was a frumpy woman, short and thin, with tangled gray hair and a pale, lean face; she wore a thin woolen coat with one frayed sleeve. She had a nice smile. “I’m going to put you in the back. We’ll leave the light on a couple of minutes so you can settle in. You’ll find some tarpaulins that will make a real comfy seat.”
Madge helped Nansci climb into the back of the van through the rear door, hefted up her rucksack; she gave Nansci a final smile and slammed the door shut. Nansci had just enough time to haul her stuff to the front of the van and lay herself out on the pile of tarpaulins when the single overhead light blinked out and the truck started to lurch and move. There were no windows here, so she was in total darkness. Locked into a small enclosure with no light roused a few apprehensions. Nansci vaguely wondered why they hadn’t made room for her in the cab. This unanswered question caused Nansci a tinge of uneasiness. But she dismissed these small anxieties. The women were being kind to her but preferred their privacy. She was silly to fret.
They rolled along for about an hour; then the van turned onto a rough road. It was obvious that they had left the highway. The van climbed several steep grades before groaning to a stop. She waited in the dark. She heard the two women climbing out of the cab. Then there was a thunder sound of a large garage door being rolled shut. A moment later Madge opened the rear van door and smiled in at Nansci. “We’re in Lincoln City!” she announced gaily.
A bit uncertainly Nansci gathered up her stuff and climbed down. She was more concerned when she looked around and saw they were inside a garage that he been shut tight. Madge regarded Nansci, beaming her smile, and the other woman standing nearby was also smiling.
Madge said we just can’t send you on your way without a hot home cooked meal. Come on.” Madge put her arm around Nansci and guided her into the house. The other woman took Nansci’s rucksack and carried it in for her.
They entered a large farm house style kitchen. After helping her off with her coat, Madge sat Nansci down in a little breakfast nook. She sent the other woman out to round up some fresh eggs. They had a small henhouse on the farm-like property. She rattled plates and pans at the stove, in cupboards and at the massive fridge while she chattered on about what a pleasure it was to be entertaining a young guest. “And so pretty, too,” Madge laughed.
Suddenly she turned and regarded Nansci critically from across the room. “This is going to take a while because I’m going to prepare you something special. It just occurred to me that maybe while you’re waiting you would really appreciate a hot, steamy shower?” She regarded Nansci with an enticing grin.
Nansci had been traveling for five days. She already felt filthy, so the imagery of a hot, steamy shower that Madge conjured up melted away any reservations she still felt. “Oh yes!” she almost shrieked. “Would you mind?”
“Not at all,” Madge assured her warmly. “Come with me,”
Madge quickly produced an armful of fluffy bath towels and led Nansci down a hallway to a huge bathroom. The shower was an opaque glass box.
“Take as long as you want,” Madge told her excited guest. With that she left the room and shut the door.
Nansci turned on the shower, stripped off her clothes, which she piled neatly on the clothes hamper beside her rucksack, and with a little yip of pleasure entered the shower box. There was a shelf inside the shower with shampoo and soap. She used them liberally. She reveled in the feel of hot water soaking her body, rivulets all soapy and warm stroking down her young limbs, dripping in profusion onto the shower floor. She made little humming sounds of contentment as the hot water rinsed away the soap and dirt. Finally, reluctantly, she turned off the water and stepped out of the box. The bath towels were on a table within reach. She toweled herself vigorously until her youthful flesh glowed pink all over. When she looked for her clothes she was puzzled to see everything was gone. Even her rucksack. There was the hamper, but no clothes.
A bit confused, but not apprehensive because she assumed there was a reasonable explanation, Nansci opened the bathroom door a crack. “Madge?” she called out. “Are you there?”
No answer. The huge house seemed deserted, but Nansci knew Madge would be in the kitchen preparing the meal she had promised. There was nothing to do but go and find her.
Nansci wound a bath towel around her naked body. She carefully tucked in the top just above her left breast. The garment reached to her lower thighs, so she was respectably covered. She opened the bathroom door, stepped into the hallway and turned towards the kitchen. The linoleum floor was clammy under her bare feet and cool air wafted over her bare shoulders. She knew the kitchen would be warm and cozy. She walked a little faster.
“Madge?” she called out as she approached the brightly lit kitchen.
“In here, Dearie,” Madge responded.
Relieved to hear the woman’s friendly voice, Nansci entered the kitchen. Madge was seated at the kitchen table. A large journal type book was before her.
The first disconcerting thing Nansci noticed was that there was no sign of the meal Madge had promised. The stove was cold. The table was not set. There were no aromas in the kitchen to herald preparation of a special meal. Something was definitely wrong.
Nansci backed away, confused, trying to find normal explanations. After two steps backwards she collided with a huge, solid body. When Nansci looked up over her shoulder, she was stunned to see the other woman had removed her long white wig. She was a nearly bald man! She/he had washed off the Carmen lipstick and rouged cheeks. He smiled down at Nansci as his big, rough hands closed on her shoulders. “What a sweet little package we have here,” he chuckled.
Madge also chuckled. “Dearie, meet my son, Arnold.”
The huge man turned Nansci around. His face was chubby, adorned with a broad grin; but his squinted brown eyes were cold. He perused her from top to bottom. Nansci couldn’t decide whether she should react angrily or fearfully. It was impossible to discern what he intended to do to her. She still couldn’t quite accept the fact that she was a captive of these two people. Grasping her shoulders again, Arnold turned her around and pushed her to the table. Madge opened the journal, picked up a pen and regarded Nansci with one eyebrow raised inquisitively. “What’s your name, Dearie?” The pen was poised to write the answer down.
Nansci scowled at her erstwhile benefactor. “I’m not answering your questions. I want my clothes back now!”
Madge seemed unimpressed by Nansci’s outburst and implied threat. She frowned back. “You’re being very rude, Nansci. I’m almost thinking you should be punished for that. I could let Arnold take off your towel and pinch and twist one of your titties hard and painfully.” She made a placating smile. “But I want to give you one more chance to be a nice, polite girl. I just have a few questions. So what is your name?”
Nansci blanched at the punishment Madge had threatened. There was no doubt she was in serious trouble. Nansci realized that there was no way she could avoid this punishment, except to comply. As much as she would have liked to draw the line here, this was not the time nor place to draw lines.
“Nansci Domokos,” she answered in a sullen voice.
“Age?”
“Seventeen”
“Ethnic origin?”
“Serbian.”
“Occupation?”
“I’m a student at the convent orphanage in Hilltop, Washington.”
“Nearest relative?”
“I have none.”
“Person to notify in case of accident?”
Nansci shrugged. “There’s no one.”
“How often have you had sex?”
This question turned Nansci’s cheeks red with embarrassment. She was not accustomed to talking about this taboo subject, and she couldn’t decide whether she should refuse to answer on personal grounds, or admit she was still a virgin.
Nansci drew herself up on her dignity. “You surely don’t expect me to answer a question so personal and private as that.”
Madge sighed as though in resignation. “I’m really sorry you won’t answer such a simple question. After all, we’re all adults here. Arnold, give one of Nansci’s titties a twist until she changes her mind.”
Grinning, Arnold reached out to pull off Nansci’s towel. She dodged his grasp. “Alright,” she conceded. “I’ve never had sex.”
This last response seemed to please Madge. She duly made an entry in the ledger.
“Why did you leave the convent school?”
This was another personal question. Nansci set her mouth defiantly. There were limits to how far she would let this woman bully her.
Madge sighed. She looked at Arnold. “Give both her titties a good squeeze and twist, Arnold dear.”
Before Nansci could leap away, Arnold caught her upper arm in a vice-like grip. He yanked down the towel. Nansci only just manage to prevent it from falling below her waist. She clutched at the towel around her lower body while Arnold, still grasping her arm, yanked her close to him. He caught her right breast with his big hand like a ball, held her in place with a steely grip, then caught the nipple and pinched and twisted it viciously hard. Nansci squealed. The pain momentarily paralyzed her. It gave Arnold time to pinch and twist her other nipple, this time even harder. Nansci moaned and fought back tears. Seething with rage, she thrust a left jab at his grinning face, her hand claw-like, seeking his eyes. Arnold nonchalantly blocked the blow, grasped her wrist, levered it so she had to turn around and bend over. In spite of Nansci’s screams and struggles, in a moment he captured her other wrist and secured both of them together behind her back with a plastic loop. She was now helpless to resist. She stood facing Madge, Arnold at her back reaching around her and cupped her breasts. The towel fell away to the floor and she was totally stripped. Nansci had never felt so mortified, so humiliated and embarrassed. One of Arnold’s hands began to slither down her stomach towards her undefended private place.
“Arnold, you know I will not tolerate lewd behavior,” Madge snapped. Immediately his hand returned to cup and kneed her breast.
Madge regarded Nansci with a sour expression. “All this unpleasantness was quite unnecessary, you know. All you had to do was answer that simple questions. Are you willing to do it now?”
Nansci sighed in defeat. “Okay, but first tell Arnold to let go of me, and let me put the towel back on.”
To Nansci that seemed like a reasonable request, but Madge looked affronted. “We don’t bargain with young girls like you. You do what we tell you or suffer the consequences. Arnold, give this sassy slut some real twists and pinches.”
“Alright! Alright!” Nansci cried out as Arnold’s big hands moved to torment her already tender and throbbing nipples.
“Stop for now, Arnold,” Madge intervened.
Grateful she had avoided the worst of Arnold’s ministrations, Nansci launched into her story. “I was assigned to three years as maidservant to a family of pillars of the church. This was the normal fate of all soon-to-be 18-year-olds who ‘graduate’ from the orphanage. It was our repayment to the community for the years of loving care and expense the orphanage bestowed on us. I was to work for room and board only. I met the family in the Mother Superior’s office. The thin woman who would be my mistress regarded me with narrowed eyes and lips pinched in disapproval. I could see I would never please this sour homemaker. Worse, the older man—the woman’s husband, I supposed—was staring lustfully at my legs. Even worse, the son, standing behind the chairs of his parents, was contemplating me with a confident grin. I could see right away he was a spoiled, pampered rich boy who was going to pester and rape me for the three years. I escaped from the orphanage that same night.”
Madge made an entry in her ledger and stamped the date.
“And now let’s go down to the laundry room to get your clothes.” Arnold firmly steered Nansci by her bare shoulders towards the door she had entered earlier.
Nansci tried to squirm out of his grasp, but his fingers were like steel manacles. “Let go of me!” she complained.
Arnold chuckled and stroked her bare shoulder. Nansci knew she was in a perilous situation. She felt a surge of panic, but she quelled it. There was no point struggling against this powerful man, and anyway she was sure she was securely locked inside the house. She had noticed that all the kitchen windows were fitted with bars on the inside. Nansci decided all she could do right now was wait and see. Get her clothes first, then take advantage of any opportunity to get away.
The little procession lead by Madge, followed by Nansci and Arnold, proceeded down the hallway past the bathroom. They paused at a heavy wooden door that Madge unlocked. It opened onto a landing, and then a set of narrow wooden steps going down to the basement. There was another hallway at the foot of these stairs. Half way along the cement floored hallway was another heavy wooden door. It was secured by a heavy iron bar, and then a lock that creaked when Madge turned the key. In spite of Nansci’s earlier decision to wait and see, this dungeon like place was too much for her nerves. She struggled to get free of Arnold’s grip, and she balked with all the might she could apply with her bare feet against the cold floor. Arnold laughed. He grasped Nansci under her arms and raised her into the air like a toy doll. He carried her inside. The door slammed shut with a whop of finality behind them.
Arnold put Nansci down. Under her feet she felt a thin carpet. She looked around at the windowless basement room glaringly lit by half a dozen fluorescent ceiling lights. She was horrified to see a row of four small wire cages. One was occupied by a girl, naked except for a stout leather collar. She was attached to a ring in the wall by a thick chain to her collar. Now Nansci knew her fate. She started to struggle to get away from Arnold’s grasp, but with her wrists secured behind her she was helpless to resist. Arnold turned her around to face him. Smirking lewdly at his nude captive, he reached out and stroked one of Nansci’s breasts. Nansci tried to back away from Arnold, but Madge was behind her snapping a collar around her neck. A moment later she handed Arnold the leash attached to Nansci’s collar. Arnold and his unclad captive stood staring at each other. His piggy eyes browsed up and down Nansci’s body. He stared for a long time at her pert and generous breasts, licking his lips. Then his gaze slowly slithered down her body, stopping at her private place, then down her legs. His lopsided grin said how much he enjoyed the sight. With a smirk he jerked Nansci closer to him, like reeling in a big fish. Nansci tried to resist but her strength was negligible against Arnold’s. When he brought Nansci less than an arm’s distance apart, he began to fondle her breasts again. Nansci’s eye filled with tears of shame and rage. Finally, with a cry of anger, she tried to knee Arnold’s crotch. Arnold deflected the attempt with nonchalant ease.
“You’ll be punished for that,” he muttered. He dragged Nansci across the room to the first empty cage.
The girl inside had long blonde hair tangled over her face. Like Nansci she was naked and collared. She was lying on a thin exercise mat on the floor in a fetal position. Nansci gasped. The girl’s back was crisscrossed with a dozen ugly red welts. She had been whipped mercilessly.
“This bitch was way too stubborn for her own good,” Arnold commented. “But I finally broke her. Sooner or later they all break.” Arnold said it dispassionately. “She’s the first girl I thought I might have to turn over to the Druids.”
“Anyway, now Polly is a smart little slut.” Polly must have been asleep. She suddenly looked up at Arnold with wide, terrified eyes. She scrambled to her knees, legs spread, back straight thrusting out her breasts. This was obviously some sort of groveling ritual she had been taught to perform when Arnold approached her. Nansci felt pity, even with a tinge of contempt, for a girl who would debase herself so compliantly.
“It took about twelve strokes to teach Polly the two golden rules—be docile and be obedient. That’s how we like our girls.” He gave Nansci’s leash a tug so she had to turn to face him. “How many strokes will it take to break you to the rules, slut?”
Nansci glared at Arnold defiantly.
He stared back at her unperturbed. “I’m going to give you a stroke for that disrespectful look. That’s two you’ve got coming, girl.”
Nansci was still in a rebellious frame of mind until Arnold started to push her towards a post near the far corner of the room. The post was festooned with rings that were obviously used for tethering a girl’s wrists. But Arnold steered her slightly to the right of the post. Nansci hadn’t notice the device before. It was a ramshackle wooden table with black iron rings at both ends. She struggled against him, but Arnold had no trouble pushing her flat down on the table top, then fastening her in position by securing the leash on the far side of the table. The table top was cold against Nansci’s breasts and stomach. Working together Madge and Arnold quickly spread Nansci’s legs further apart than they could comfortable go and attached her ankles to the table legs.
Arnold regarded her head with an expression of satisfaction. Then he went around behind his captive. Nansci felt his hand cupping the right cheek of her bum. With her neck secured, forcing her to stand in a bent over position, and her wrists tightly fixed behind her, she was helpless to thwart his hands roving at will over her naked body. She was frightened and outraged. She wanted to cry but she resolutely held back the tears. She knew tears would only augment Arnold’s pleasure. He pinched her inner thighs to heighten her discomfort. Then he stroked her legs up to her crotch. His hands were callused and rough like sandpaper. She braced herself as his fingers pressed against the lips of her private place, pressed more insistently against the dryness, rasping until they were actually inside her! Nansci made an angry hissing sound. He pushed two, maybe three, fingers all the way inside her. No one had ever done that sort of outrage to her. She couldn’t thwart a moan. He twisted his fingers inside her and with his thumb rubbed her clit. It all gave her strangely mixed sensations of pleasure and discomfort. “You’re a beast,” she muttered.
Then to her horror he began to play with her bum cheeks. After stroking and pinching them for a while, he parted the sections to reveal the little orifice hidden within. She didn’t expect him to touch her there, but he did. He chuckled when she flinched and tried to squirm away from his prodding finger. Her bung hole responded to his intrusion with a strong contraction and a spasm of pain. She cried out, and with a surge of anger—even though she knew it would provoke him to more intense violations—she cursed at him. He chuckled. “That’s two more for disrespectful language, bitch.”
Arnold punched her between her legs. “How do you like that, cunt?”
The pain was sharp and severe. “Please, I’m sorry,” Nansci moaned.
Arnold came around to glare at her tear-stained face. He was carrying a four-foot long tapered switch. It was fashioned from some tightly woven material that might have been leather. He swished it near her face. It sounded like a hissing snake. Nansci knew she was now in real trouble. Her whole body shivered with a clammy fear. “Please don’t hurt me,” she begged.
Arnold laughed. He returned to his position behind her. Madge came into Nansci’s limited view. She regarded the quivering girl with sympathy. “This is going to hurt terribly, Dearie. Don’t fight it. That isn’t healthy. Feel free to scream and screech as loud as you want. That helps, it really does. And we won’t think badly of you when you bawl your head off. After Arnold has given you four strokes for punishment, then you and I will discuss the matter of docility and obedience. Okay?” Madge said it all in a motherly, concerned tone.
If Madge expected Nansci to give enthusiastic endorsement to this plan, she only got a sour look. Madge looked up at Arnold and nodded.
A moment later Nansci heard the swish of the switch followed by a loud report as the instrument smacked against her flesh; then a stunning pain ignited across the cheeks of her bum. In spite of her firm resolve not to give Arnold anything extra to enjoy, Nansci responded with a high pitched animal squeal of anguish.
“I love that sound,” Arnold exulted.
With all her strength Nansci held back sobs that clamored inside her to escape. She could not hold back copious tears that drenched her cheeks.
Swish-crack!
Nansci squealed and a torrent of sobs and breathless gasps gushed out of her. She emitted a stream of bawling sounds until swish-crack! And she screamed again. It felt like Arnold was laying a white hot metal rod across her bum. Each blow was inches below the previous. Swish-crack! Nansci bawled and choked. She fought to gulp up enough air to emit a wail of misery.
Arnold tossed the switch onto the table beside the weeping girl. “How did you like that, slut?” he rasped.
Nansci tried her hardest to stifle the anguished sobs and mewling sounds she was making. They kept pouring out of her. Her backside felt scorched. She had been punished a few times at the school, but never this intensely.
Madge placed her cold hand on Nansci’s quivering bum and gently stroked each cheek. “The pain will simmer down after a while,” she assured the girl. “But the question now is whether you need more to learn docility and obedience. You see, right now we don’t know how long we’ll be keeping you here. So we have to assume it will be several more weeks. That’s why we have to make sure you won’t give us any trouble. What do you say, Nansci? Are you going to be a good girl, or should we whip you some more?”
“No more, please, no more,” Nansci gasped between sobs. She was terrified that they would decide to whip her anyway. Her whole body shook with apprehension. “I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t make any trouble, I swear!” She realized with a few strokes they had broken her. It stung her pride, but right now she didn’t care. All she wanted was to avoid more whipping.
“You realize if we take your word for this, but later on we find out you were lying, the punishment will be many, many times more severe?” Madge pressed her relentlessly.
“I won’t give you any trouble,” Nansci promised. “I swear I won’t. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Very well. Perhaps you really have learned your lesson. I’m going to free you now and Arnold will give you a few tests to check your sincerity. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Nansci said in a little apprehensive voice, trying to imagine what sort of tests Arnold would put her through.
When she was released from the table, Nansci was unable to stand. She crumpled into a heap of wretchedness on the carpeted floor. She remained there for several minutes, whimpering and sobbing, while Arnold tapped his foot impatiently. Finally, fearful Arnold’s patience would run out, she struggled to her feet, managed to quell the weeping sounds that still welled up from her throbbing body. He was casually swinging the switch as he regarded her body with a smirk of satisfaction.
“Are you sorry you cussed, scowled and defied me?”
“Yes, it won’t happen again.” She hung her head so she didn’t have to look at his hateful grin.
“So now you’re going to be a good little slut, docile and obedient?”
“Yes.”
“Kiss the switch.” He held it out to her.
She reverently kissed it.
“Thank me for teaching you docility and obedience.”
“Thank you for teaching me docility and obedience,” she repeated flatly.
“Kneel,” he commanded her.
She immediately obeyed him. She was trying her best not to provoke him to whip her again. She realized she was acting no better than compliant Polly.
“Lick my feet.”
His feet were bare, shoved into cheap rubber thong sandals. They were dirty and smelly. Careful to give no sign of her revulsion, she bent down and gingerly applied the tip of her tongue to his big toe.
“Lick!” Arnold snarled and tapped her back with the switch. Trembling with fright, Nansci licked the odious foot. Then the other one.
“That will do,” Arnold finally announced. He grasped her by her hair, pulled her to her feet, and shoved her across the room into the cage beside the other captive.
Madge secured the door on Nansci’s cage with a huge padlock. “No talking,” Madge warned. “You’ll be watched.” With that the two of them marched out of the room and the lock on the big wooden door rasped shut.
“What’s your name?” the girl asked Nansci. “If you talk out of the side of your mouth like this they can’t see,” she advised Nansci.
“I’m Nansci. I gather you’re name is Polly.”
“Oh, geezus,” the girl moaned, “that’s what that bastard calls me, but my real name is Amanda.”
Nansci laid down on her mat. She was exhausted. “How long have you been here?”
“I’m not sure. About a month, I guess.”
Nansci moaned. “Are they going to keep us here like this forever?”
“Haven’t you figured it out, yet?” Amanda asked. “They collect stupid girls like us to sell to sex traffickers.”
“Oh, God,” Nansci moaned again.