"The Cruise"

"By Curt Strap"

 

Chapter 1

 

I saw Nola the first time in early July. I had been to the book store looking for some special books that catered to my bizarre tastes. I finished my business and was walking along the path towards the pier. The air was rich with odors of tanned skin and the beach was decorated by female flesh in bikinis. I was about to turn back when I noticed a woman sitting on the low wall by the pier. She was with two preteen girls, both fair haired and fair skinned, dressed in shorts and halter tops.

I guessed that they had been on the beach and were just about to head home. The woman was tall, lithe and sexually attractive.  She had a direct and determined look that suggested she thought a great deal of herself.

One of the girls called her Nola. Nola and the girls moved off along the path toward the city. She had fine features, a confident gait, and beautiful blue eyes. She was probably in her thirties.

 

Her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail.

 

As she walked slowly along the path, one girl on either side of her, several pairs of eyes followed her progress. She had a buxom figure like many of the other girls on the beach. She was wearing a very tight black sweater and a pair of well worn cut-off jeans. The jeans must have been at least a couple of sizes too small. I swear I have never seen denim that fitted a woman so tightly. Surely they would split if she tried to bend over. Her breasts were full but needed no bra under the tight clinging top.  She had long and graceful thighs.

 

 Her ass was splendid. There was no tell-tale ridge of panties.

 

The woman seemed to be advertising to the world that she was not wearing any. She was wearing black boots with high heels that were out of place at the beach but looked great.

 

Yet the young woman did not have the appearance of a girl “asking for it.” With two children that would have been impossible anyway. However the woman seemed to be tantalizing the men near the beach with a display of what they would love to have but were never going to get. I think that excited her.

 

I watched this beauty as she strutted. It was easy to overtake them and pause near the rail, secretly observing her from the front. My camera was fitted with a zoom lens. I held it pretending to take a shot of the pier. Watching her carefully I turned a little and brought Nola’s beauty into focus as she came towards me.  When she passed I turned around and, at close range with the zoom lens, took several shots of Nola’s buttocks as she walked by. I followed her keeping the camera low, as if I was not using it, but my finger never left the shutter release. The automatic winder wound the film a dozen times.

 

Nola flaunted her ass along the path then stopped. She put down the shoulder bag she was carrying and began to look for something inside it. I don’t think she had any idea she was being followed. Her buttocks swelled out and parted as she bent over. I just about ejaculated in my pants.

 

My tongue was dry. With great enthusiasm I examined her ass in this most suggestive pose. I leered at her buttocks, the swell, the softer feminine flesh of the lower rear curves.

 

She led the children off again. By now she was aware I was going the same way. She looked with a mixture of unease and disdain at the camera. She may have guessed that I had been photographing her and she could well imagine what sort of pictures of her I now possessed. With the children trotting beside her she turned abruptly down one side street and then hurried down another. I walked quickly cutting through an alley and emerged behind her again. I discovered the destination of my quarry then went home to make some plans.

 

The dark afternoon mist gathered outside my basement window.  I closed the curtains and laid out the photographs in the strong light of the desk lamp. I knew I was going to enjoy myself with this one. The perverted lust she inspired in me was overpowering.  I felt no vindictiveness towards her but I would not have saved her from any sexual ordeal. She was a perfect object for gross tyranny.

 

Just suppose she had been abducted by some country where torment is inflicted in underground prisons. I could picture Nola bare naked and spread-eagled face down over a horizontal bar, naked tits swinging free, whips and implements of torture prepared. The two girls were bare, hanging by their wrists, hugely erect naked men spanking them and forcing deformed fingers into their bodies.

 

If I were given the choice of releasing them or being permitted to watch, maybe even taking part in their night long ordeal, I would have chosen to stay and participate without hesitation. My obsession with Nola and her fair skinned children was so great that I wanted to witness a brutal night for them in a torture chamber.

 

Certainly I wanted to see the trim young woman energetic in sexual passion. But I also wanted to see her screaming, tears staining her face, streaked by the leather whip or writhing under the red-hot irons.

 

My desires were a matter of extremes.

 

But how?....And where?...

 

 Certainly a backward culture, defending the rites of interrogation and punishment without interference...

 

 

* * *

 

     It was some time later that I learned that Nola had booked a cruise to South America with a stop in Peru. I had no trouble booking a first class cabin on the same ship.

 

Chapter 2

 

The trip had been a year in planning and at last Nola was going to South America to see the remains of the Inca civilization.

 

Nola had grown up spoiled with every luxury a rich socialite mother could buy a daughter. She had been a scrawny, homely child and her mother, fearing her daughter may not find a suitable husband, had regimented the girl’s life. She had spent thousands of dollars to straighten the girl’s teeth. And much more for special schools, medically supervised diet and exercise programs, and custom designed fashions. As Nola was near-sighted, she had tried to get her contact lenses but the girl’s eyes wouldn’t accept them, so she got her special glasses. Nola had beautiful long blonde hair, which received the finest care from experts.

 

Despite her shapely, poised adulthood, Nola remained single.  She attended an excellent university and had a master’s degree in anthropology. She had been to Europe twice and held a deputy curator position at the museum, a job that she did not need. Nola was so spoiled that her romances always ended shortly after they began. But at nineteen and again at twenty she gave birth to a daughter, each time refusing to marry the father. Nola was self-centered and completely devoted to herself, her looks and her pleasures. And she had no intention of sharing anything with a man.  Men were only playthings, disgusting pigs, and she despised them.

 

Preparations complete, she spent the rest of the day anticipating her trip, and of course, how she could make an impression on any stupid male she might meet. After dinner, she indulged in a vice she had picked up in college...hash.

 

Nola had done a lot of traveling and fancied herself somewhat of an expert smuggler. She didn’t feel she was a criminal as all she ever took with her was for her own use and she didn’t indulge very much...it was more a matter of doing something exciting and naughty and her make-up kit was so complicated, she had been through all sorts of customs checks and had never been caught.  Besides, men were such dull creatures. She just had to smile sweetly at them, wiggle her ass a little, and she could get away with anything. And traveling with two cute girls helped even more.

 

What mother would jeopardize her children? She took advantage of any situation. She used everyone, her own children and especially men.

 

Chapter 3

 

My initial intention was to enjoy the amenities of the ship, the luxury and elegance that was provided to those of could afford to travel first-class. The oak paneled dining room, the white linen and silver on the tables, the well prepared meals, the desserts were mine to enjoy.

 

Nola, however, was never far from my evil thoughts as, in the early light of evening, the liner weighed anchor and slipped down the channel from the dock towards the open sea.

 

She was standing by the ship’s rail. She wore a loose coat over her shoulders. Then, as she turned her face towards me, I saw the faint hint of recognition in her eyes. I was a little apprehensive. What if she pointed me out and complained that I was a pervert who took pictures of her. I do not think that much would have come from her complaint but it might have been embarrassing.  But I felt only excitement at the thought that I was going to be in such proximity to Nola and her children. For many hours of the voyage she would be in the next cabin to me. I would keep her under constant surveillance while planning her downfall.

 

The suspicion vanished from her eyes. She shook her head and turned again to stare at the darkening ocean. I smiled as I thought of her in captivity abroad. Her money and influence would not help her. Oh, the stuff of dreams and fantasy. Perhaps she would be sold into sexual bondage in some forgotten port. A terrible thought.  Yes, but if you had seen Nola walking with a wiggle of lithe hips or staring with eyes oozing hatred you would know how easily she could inspire such cruel dreams.

 

She was not at dinner that evening. In fact, during the first few days she seldom appeared outside her cabin. Nor did the children. Nola and the kids might as well not have existed for all that the other passenger’s saw of her. And that fit well with my plans. They would not be missed.

 

I thought of nothing but Nola until the humid morning of our arrival off the coast of Peru. I indulged myself in vivid, horrible fantasies about the woman and children I rarely saw during the voyage. I jerked off to foul thoughts every day. I knew that I was on the verge of a secret reality.

 

We reached the port in the early morning. The ship docked in the inner harbor. Our stay here was to be short and we were to sail again the next morning. As usual several customs officials came on board, their tan uniforms drenched in sweat. They were polite to me as I handed them a sealed envelope.

 

Chapter 4

 

In the morning, she awoke hours before the ship was to dock.  She showered and selected bright red panties and bra. She tried on her sexiest clothes and checked herself out in the mirror. She finally settled on her attire for the morning after about a dozen changes. It would be a white tailored skirt, cut just above the knee and slit on both sides about six inches. Even though she thought it might be inconvenient she elected to wear heels and a low-cut top with bare shoulders but no panty hose. Her bra and panties were just barely visible through the white material of her skirt and blouse. She brushed her long hair out and let it hang down her back.

 

The children, Tashia 11 and Jenny 10, dressed in snug white shorts and halter tops. Both girls wore their hair long and tied it in a pony tail. They were little images of their mother. Both were tall for their age and were blessed with bright blue eyes and trim bodies and long blonde hair. 

 

Chapter 5

 

Having ensured that my luggage was unloaded, I went back to the ship and found the door to Nola’s cabin open. Nola and the children faced two obese customs agents. Nola was standing with her back to the porthole, watching the two men blankly.

 

“You are detained for being in possession of contraband,” the fat officer stated in broken English. “You will admit this crime?”

 

She shook her head. The one who had asked the questions nodded to his assistant. The younger man squeezed past him, seized Nola’s arm and twisted it up behind her back. This forced her to bend over facing her accuser. The skirt rode up at the back exposing her thighs.

 

Jenny rushed at the agent and beat her small fists against his back. Tashia seemed paralyzed, her eyes filled with tears, her mouth quivering as she cried. Nola did not know what to do. Her feminine beauty and her prestigious position in the academic world were lost on the crude customs inspectors. This had never happened before. Everyone treated her with courtesy. This couldn’t be happening. These terrible men had no right to question her.

The man turned to the child and pushed her hard against the bulkhead.

 

“Is this your first time at Port Magellan.”

 

“Ye...yes...yes!” she answered, panic gripping her throat.

 

I stood there, intrigued by the sight before me. Neither officer seemed to notice my presence.

 

“I do not believe you.” he grunted at the woman. Your passport is false. You know that?”

 

“No-o-o-o! That’s impossible. Just check with the Embassy.  They will verify my identity. And this outrage will be reported to your superiors. You will be fired!” Some of her confidence returned as she attacked them verbally.

 

“Do you have prohibited goods concealed? Hashish?”

 

 

“No! You’ll pay dearly for harassing me. When the Embassy...”

 

He cut her off sharply, “We shall see.”

 

She knew that the disgusting pig was taunting her and enjoying her helplessness. Tears of rage and humiliation flooded her eyes.  She kicked at him wildly. The man smiled crudely. That was just what he wanted. By making her resist he could arrest her and take her to the jail for searching and interrogation.

 

“We may have been able to make a deal with you. A few hours on a bed in the jail cell and then we let you go. But you attached a government officer. For that you go to prison. And the children, too. You will come with us.”

 

I stood quite still witnessing this exciting drama. The officer turned and saw me.

 

“You,” he said, in the tone of a man who exercises power over men. “You are a witness to her attack on the authority of the state. You will also come with us.”

I felt a growing excitement to see what would be done to Nola and her children.

 

“You will sign a written statement and be free to go. For the prisoners it is different. They will be locked up until the investigation and report are completed."

 

Chapter 6

 

Their luggage was off-loaded and taken away. Nola intercepted a black deck hand and tried to get him to take a message to the Embassy. He did not appear to speak very good English but with vague gestures she was assured that the message would be delivered.  She sighed in relief. This mess would be sorted out very quickly and those insolent men would be adequately punished.

                          

* * *

 

The crewman boarded the vessel and went about his work. He never understood anything that bitchy white woman said. She sure had nice tits and a cute ass though. He thought about the piece of paper she had given him. He wondered if the police chief would give him anything for it. It was worth a try.

                         

* * *

 

We went down the gangway and across to the waterfront fence.

 

We were ushered through customs by grinning guards. Beyond the tall dock gates there were bars with signs advertising alcohol and nude dancers. There were carts selling silver jewelry and beer. Others were selling lottery tickets. A seagull hovered in the hot sky with the patience of a vulture. The street, lined with palm trees and unpainted cafes, was filthy with garbage and broken asphalt.

 

We turned off the street and passed a deserted gas station.  Near the end of this decayed avenue was a house surrounded by an eight foot fence topped with barbed wire. Over the gate was the ominous crest identifying the structure as a prison. Nola was at the mercy of the republic’s local police. The two officers led the prisoners up the stone stairs. The sour smell of stale urine assaulted my nostrils. All the doors were securely bolted. We entered a bare foyer with a vaulted ceiling and barred windows. The office of the Commandant was directly in front of us. A cell opened off it, a stifling hot room with a prison bed, a chair and a barred window overlooking the prison yard.

 

I waited with the officer while his assistant marched the children into that sweatbox with its steel door.

 

“Lie down,” the gross guard ordered sharply, “On the mattress.  Give me your hands.”

 

There was the click of steel cuffs around the children’s slim wrists then a second metallic click as the cuffs were locked around the steel frame of the bunk.

 

“You’ll stay here until we are ready to question you.” he smirked lewdly. The girls were so stunned and terrified that they could do no more than gasp and squirm. Tears flowed freely.

 

The guard left the cell and double locked the door.

 

Chapter 7

 

Nola was taken to another room opposite the cell where she was met by the local version of the law, a sweating obese man in a wrinkled grey uniform. She still carried her purse and make-up case.

 

“I demand to speak to the officer in charge,” she hissed.

 

“I am the officer in charge,” he replied in broken English.

 

“I demand that you release us immediately. I am the representative of the Smith museum. Your government has given me permission to inspect the Inca burial ground. I have diplomatic immunity. Release us this instance or you’ll be very sorry. I’ll phone the Ambassador immediately and he’ll speak to your superiors!”

 

“You may make arrangements to leave as soon as we check your passports and you are inspected by customs. If you have done nothing against our laws there is nothing to fear.”

 

He pulled a cord and a bell rang. Two men entered. Nola handed the man her passport. It was warm and she was very nervous. She sweated profusely as the man at the desk said, “You will be searched thoroughly. Do as these men direct. They’re not obligated to give anyone special treatment.”

 

One man took her purse and make-up case and dumped them on the desk, the other stood in front of her and began the search at the top of Nola’s head. She cringed as the man’s big dirty hands probed through her hair, parting it, palpating her scalp, rumpling and disheveling the long blonde tresses, checking her ears, removing and inspecting her glasses, then putting them on the table with her purse. Next, the man’s strong hands forced her mouth open and she gagged as his slimy, dirty fingers felt around inside her mouth, under her tongue, and in the hollows of her cheeks.

 

Nola was now perspiring heavily. The underarms of her light jacket were soaked. She was ordered to take it off. The man unfastened the lining of the jacket with a knife and shredded the garment, then tossed it on the floor. Nola’s red underwear was clearly visible through her perspiration soaked white skirt and top and she shivered fearfully and she felt the man unzip the blouse.

 

“Stop, you can’t do this. This is obscene. I demand that any search be done by a female officer.”

 

“Shut up, or you’ll never leave this place!”

 

Nola was stunned.

 

The man behind the desk leered at her as the man removed her blouse completely and said, “It is just a formality. Why do you sweat so much? Do you have something to hide?”

 

“N-no. This is n-not UH...” Nola stammered as she put her hands in front of her breasts. The second man came to aid the other one, anxious to get in on the action. He grabbed her wrists and held them together at the small of the woman’s back. The one in front of her fondled her bra and noticed a little padding. He removed the bra, then slit the material and pulled out the little foam pads and threw them on the floor. Then he removed Nola’s cloth belt, unzipped the skirt and let it drop.

 

Nola cringed in terror. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. It has always been so easy getting checked by customs.

 

The man holding her wrists moved her so the other could pick up the skirt and check it over. “You sure have sexy underwear,” the man behind the desk smirked. The man behind the girl released her hands and motioned for her to remove her panties.

 

Nola was shocked and was ready to attack the foul creature behind the desk, but, sensing she had no choice, instead stripped off her remaining clothing and removed her shoes then stood rigidly with her arms covering her pubic mound, bare naked, wet with perspiration. Her face was scarlet with humiliation and fright.

 

“I-I-I have nothing to hide,” she said in a weak voice.

 

“We are here to determine that, woman,” the man shouted as the guards led her to an ominous looking table and bent her forward over it. One of the men put on rubber gloves and brutally probed her rectum with his fingers. Then, she was placed on her back on the table and her feet were placed in stirrups. Nola’s humiliation was complete. She was menstruating and a tampon string dangled from her open pussy. A gloved hand jerked the soaked tampon out and laid it on her belly. The man then probed and poked for a few minutes.  She was let up and led back to the desk. There was a red streak on the pale skin of her belly where the tampon rested. It had fallen on the floor when she stood up.

 

Nola was given back her blouse, skirt and shoes. She dressed quickly, ready to leave this horrid disgusting place. She was replacing her glasses when she gasped in horror. The man at the desk discovered her stash in the handle of her make-up case. He dumped the hash on to the desk with sadistic pleasure, smiled, and said, “This is illegal! You will be punished. Justice is quick here.”

 

While the man wrote some notes on three papers on his desk, Nola pleaded with him, but to no avail. When he finished writing he said, “take her to the prison square and flog her. Fifty lashes.  Then turn her over to the warden. Her sentence is one month.  “Question her children and find out what crimes they have committed.  When you have their confessions bring them to me so that I can pass sentence. Take her away!"

 

Chapter 8

 

     The men pulled her out through the front entrance then into the dusty prison yard. It was now close to noon. The sun was directly overhead. She sweated heavily as the men led her by her upper arms around the building to another open area. When she saw the place where her punishment was to be carried out, she shrieked and tried to pull away from the men. They held her tight.

 

The square was dominated by an elevated platform with an overhead crossbar, very much like a primitive gallows. There was a small fireplace on one side of the frame. It emitted a cherry red glow. The men forced her to the platform and turned her to face the open area. Nola looked down in horror at the group of evil men and boys, all waiting to see this pale blonde woman punished.

 

The man on her right, the one who had brutally checked out her orifices spoke for the first time. “I get to do you,” he said, smiling wickedly at Nola’s surprise that he spoke English. “You will find this an experience you’ll never forget. Now, let’s see you spread your legs, criminal.”

 

“Please, no! I beg you. I didn’t hurt anybody,” Nola pleaded.

 

“Obey!” the guard screamed. Nola looked at the expectant crowd and spread her feet as far as her skirt would let her, only to hear the guard smirk, “Wider!” The man reached down and grabbed both ends of the straining slit in her skirt and ripped it to the waistband. The other man did the same on her left side and Nola forced her legs further apart until she was straining to keep her balance in her high heels. The men then fastened leather ankle cuffs on her and stretched the girl’s legs further apart and fastened them in place with ropes to steel eyebolts on the platform deck.

 

Nola was now off balance and tried to keep from falling. The men stood and spread her arms above her head and roped her wrists to the overhead beam. This hurt her shoulders horribly but the support held her from falling. The man picked up a pair of scissors and cut off all her clothing and removed her shoes and glasses, leaving her hanging, straining, glistening with sweat in the blazing sun.

 

Nola looked into the guard’s cruel eyes as he stood in front of her snipping the scissors in the air in front of her face. “You know what happens next,” he said, grinning into Nola’s terrified eyes. She shook her head slowly from side to side and gave the man a pathetic pleading stare.

 

“Criminals in our country all get convict haircuts,” the man continued as he stroked the petrified woman’s long blonde hair.  “I’m going to enjoy this just as much with your cute kids.”

 

With that sadistic comment, he took a handful of Nola’s gleaming hair and cut it off. He continued cutting, tossing the long tresses off the platform. Nola wailed in abject despair.  While he mangled her hair, the crowd scrambled for samples. Soon, he left his humiliated victim with only ugly stubble. Nola had stopped crying and whimpered nearly unheard. The other guard dumped a bucket of salt water over her and grinned in anticipation as the prison’s executioner mounted the platform, carrying a wicked looking strap and some long thin iron rods.

 

The guards left the platform and the horribly fat torturer stood in front of the spread-eagled white women, surveying her naked flesh. Nola was so frightened that she couldn’t scream. After a long inspection of his suspended victim, he placed the irons in the red hot coals of the fire box and took a position behind the woman.

 

Thirty seconds passed then the first lash landed with atrocious ferocity across her bare ass, thrusting her body forward and tearing an ear-splitting scream from her. The second lash tore into her back and shoulders. He waited about a minute, savoring her writhing flesh then laid the third lash just below the first one on her buttocks. The whip raised ugly purple welts and a trickle of blood seeped from an abrasion on her ass. He worked on his shrieking victim methodically, alternating between her back and her surging ass. Ten strokes, still forty to go. He attacked her upper thighs with four searing cuts.

 

Nola had stopped shrieking and now hung, staring expressionlessly into the crowd. The brute stepped in front of her and tore her belly with four strokes. She started screaming again.  His yellowed, broken, rotting teeth were exposed as a terrible grin spread over his face. He aimed the lash at her trembling breasts.  Again and again the leather cut into her tits drawing incoherent shrieks of pain from her distended mouth. Ten times the brutal leather cracked into her defenseless tits tearing at her nipples.

 

Twenty-eight. He had to be careful. He couldn’t let her find relief in unconsciousness. She was going to take every one of the fifty strokes. The insides of her thighs attracted his attention and four nerve shattering blows crashed into her. Nola uttered a frenzied shriek, her body rigid. Her toes curled and her hands clenched until the fingernails bit into her palms drawing blood.  Thirty-two. Lots of time left.

 

* * *

 

I was just part of the crowd. Anonymous. There were smiles all around me as the voyeurs relished the torture that Nola was being subjected to. This white woman’s ass and tits were going to be torn and bloody when this was over. And there were other pleasures to watch after the whipping. They were going to use hot irons on her.  There was no escape for her and when she was back in the prison everyone knew that the woman would be fucked in every orifice. The gang-bang would last most of the night. Some were aware that there were two little girls with her when she was arrested. They wondered when the children would be on the platform to be ravaged with cane and glowing iron. Some men were already stroking their erect cocks.

 

He went behind the woman again. The eighteen remaining lashes would be on her ass. Nola twisted her face toward the spectators.  Her blue eyes were wide and wet with tears. Her mouth hung open and spit ran down her chin. Her gaze met the obscene smiles and eager faces of half naked boys masturbating vigorously. The torturer raised the strap high over his head. The sunlight caught the black leather as it curved downward. Then the whip landed with a hiss across the sensitive under curves of Nola’s ass. The anguish was evident in her tortured facial expression. She screamed her inability to endure this torment, but she screamed in vain. She writhed her hips and shook her tits, far beyond what she should be expected to bear. The erotic writhing of her whipped ass sent shivers of delight through those watching her torture. She would have done anything to interrupt the flogging but nothing was offered. She would have confessed to anything just for a moment’s rest. She would have condemned her daughters to the same treatment by accusing them of any criminal act her captors mentioned.

 

The whip snaked down again and branded her ass. The whip cracked a second time and the tip of the lash caught her between her buttocks searching for her virgin anus. Her expression of hurt at this intrusion made the torturer smile in anticipation. Having found a place where she was still so responsive, he aimed a similar stroke. The whip’s biting tip found its target, then again, and yet again. Thirteen to go.

 

With horrible pleasure he lashed her ass three more times in the same place then he performed a much more terrible indignity on the stripped, screeching woman. He let the end of the whip fall to the deck between her spread legs. He snapped his wrist. The leather snaked upward and attacked the sensitive lips of her gaping pussy.  Whatever anyone may have thought, it was impossible to anticipate the reaction to this disgusting act. Her vocal cords were paralyzed by the intensity of the anguish. Then a wild outburst. “You have killed me!”

 

Her body shook uncontrolled. The hideous pain had barely subsided when the lash struck again. Nola's body twisted and turned as the leather found her most sensitive flesh again and again until ten horrid blows had been delivered between her spread legs.

 

Chapter 9

 

I went to the prison three weeks after Nola was arrested and was given access to her on the condition that I would provide information against her that would ensure that she would never be in a position to tell tales of anything that was done to her. The one month detention was nearly over and they didn’t want to let her go, nor her children.   They were enjoying the young, white girls too much.

 

I was in an unusual situation of being able to de exactly as I wished with the woman and getting her brats into hell with her.

 

* * *

 

I made my way to the cell in which she slept. The guards opened the door quietly. The guards who supervised her that night had put her on her belly without a sheet over her. Her wrists were attached to the frame at either side of the prison bed. The light from the doorway showed me that she was asleep.  Her head, covered only by the stubble that remained of her hair, lay on a pillow. I could see that her eyes were closed and her lips were parted a little. I moved forward very quietly to the bed.

 

The guard who had attached her face-down for the night had wedged two leather covered pillows under her loins. These emphasized the spread of her young thighs and gave a broad curve to the firm cheeks of Nola’s ass. Not only did this make her available for whatever acts the guards might inflict on her, it also made Nola appear to be offering herself in an obscene manner.

 

That she should be made to present herself to men whom she held in contempt added a keen spice of Nola’s humiliation to my enjoyment.

 

I sat silently on the edge of the bed without waking her. I paused for a moment and then lowered my head over her. I examined that area of Nola’s anatomy which interested me the most. I studied her flesh from her waist to the backs of her knees. As I studied her buttocks, I was close enough to smell her damp sweat.

 

Since the first day I was Nola’s hips and buttocks my thoughts of her had been tinged by sadistic desires. A bitch like her easily excited the vile instincts of men like me.

 

Her legs were relaxed and parted a little. I was able to make a close survey of Nola’s lightly-haired sex between the rear of her thighs and my tongue ran expectantly on my lips.

 

I looked at the blue-veined hollows behind her knees and the pale smoothness of the backs of her calves. There was a slight humid sweat on the soft inner surfaces of her thighs and on the flesh separating her buttocks.

 

The effects of the whipping and the hot needle that ravaged her ass two weeks ago had faded. But there was still a hint of the savage whip. My cock responded to the erotic naked flesh. Having Nola’s ass bare for my inspection encouraged by my thoughts of torture and rape gave me a furious hard-on.

 

The cheeks of her ass were relaxed in sleep. I looked closely where her cheeks curved together, at the sexually suggestive cleavage of her crack. My eyes followed the dark forbidden valley hidden in shadows even in the light from the door.

 

To wake her, I slipped the fingers of one hand between the rear of her legs and fondled Nola’s intimate feminine flesh. At the same time, my other fingers were between her rear cheeks, probing and finding her anus. This rude fingering brought her to life. She stirred a little and then woke up with a sudden tightening of her body.

 

“Lie still and be quiet, Nola. I’m here to help you. But you have to be co-operative if you want to get out of this hellhole. I have a plan.”

 

Nola turned her head toward me. Her eyes gave me a look of defiance and hatred, tempered by unease. She recognized me.

 

I smiled at her, trying to gain her confidence.

 

“Trust me,” I said smoothly, “and you’ll be out of here today.”

 

I saw hesitation in her eyes. I also saw hope.

 

“How?” she said. Her eyes flashed excitement.

 

“Just tell me where the rest of the stuff is. I’ll get rid of it. I’m a lawyer. I’ll appeal the one month detention. With time off for good behavior you’ll be out of prison today.”

 

“What about Tashia and Jenny, are they okay?”

 

“The girls too, there’s no evidence against them, at least not yet! The guards are too busy with other prisoners right now. They haven’t even been questioned yet,” I lied.  “By the way, what do you know about plans for a coup to overthrow President Gonzales?”

 

“Can I really trust you?”

 

“Sure,” I smiled, “but you don’t have much choice, do you?”

 

“I guess not.” Nola looked around, making sure they were really alone. “Only what I heard from a friend before I left.  They’ve been planning it for months. I sure hope they’re successful. This stinking government should be overthrown and the perverts running it sentenced to lengthy prison terms. Especially that horrid judge.”

 

“What about the drugs? You must have more hidden somewhere?

 

What they found was only a few days supply.”

 

“You promise to get me out of here?” she asked. Her private thoughts were more perverse. This bastard will roast once I get home and get a few of dad’s old friends to take care of him.

 

“I’ll get you out, but it’ll cost you something.”

 

“What?” she said. “Anything.”

 

“The drugs?”

 

“There’s some in the heels of the girl’s shoes.”

 

There was a pause. Nola watched disdainfully while I stood up and unzipped my pants. Smiling, I held before her face my hard erection rising from its nest of grey hair, showing it to the woman with vindictive amusement. I held my penis right in front of her face, making Nola inhale the smelly, masculine odor of it.

 

“Have a good look at it, Nola! I’ve wanted to show it to you for a long time. When I followed you from the beach. When I took pictures of you and your kids. And you’re going to feel it too.  You’ll have a hard time with it....”

 

“You,” she spat. “I know you. You’re the filthy pervert that used to follow me. I thought I recognized you on the boat.”

 

“Careful, Nola, if you want out of this prison.”

 

She stopped. But her venomous attack continued in her private thoughts. Filthy obscene bastard. When she was home, he would suffer, oh, how he would suffer. She had the money and resources to make sure he learned some very hard lesson. She would destroy him.

 

Grinning at the anger in her eyes, I showed her the swollen head. Nola gasped through clenched teeth and pulled vainly at the straps holding her wrists to the prison bed-frame.

 

“Have another good look at it, Nola. Close up. You’ll suck on it later. You think you’ll refuse? If you want out of here today you’ll beg for a taste of it. Do you want the guards feeding cock to you for the rest of your sentence? And to your precious little girls? That’s what they’ll do, you know.”

 

Still smiling at the fury in her eyes, I teased her a little longer with my erection. Then I sat down on the bed.

 

“Lay still, Nola. Your ass is the only thing about you that interests met. And that little treasure hidden between your cute cheeks. Your asshole, Nola. I think you understand now, don’t you?  Those times I followed you, when you looked up and saw me standing behind you. Or when I was behind you with a camera. It was your fine young ass, Nola. No need to pretend any longer. It’s your ass that interested me most.”

 

I brushed the rear of her legs and fingered the flesh between her legs. Nola was tense, her head face down trying to hide her face, her breath exhaled through clenched teeth. I slipped my fingers along her sweaty crack. I parted the cheeks and ran my finger over the tiny entrance.

 

“Let me have a good look at your asshole, Nola. Don’t clench your buttocks if you know what’s good for you. You’re really tight there. Never had anything up there, Nola? I’ll have to fix that.”

 

She turned to stare at my vulgar outburst, gasping and struggling to avoid my attentions.

 

“Lie still and relax your cheeks. That’s better.”

 

She jammed her knees into the hard mattress as my finger prodded her asshole. There was nothing else she could do except scream for the guards and she knew the consequences of that.

 

She cursed me in quiet whispers.

 

“Cool it Nola, or I’ll call the guards. Do you want me to? Do you want Tashia and Jenny up on that platform? Do you, Nola?”

 

The shock of my question overcame her resistance to my searching fingers. I tickled her asshole with my finger-tip as I whispered to her.

 

“They’ll be whipped really sadistically, Nola,” I said softly.  “And they’ll use a cane. Do you really thing they can take a real prison caning? The Arab guards will make them scream and they’ll enjoy doing it.”   I had enjoyed the spectacle of the girls, the guards making them suffer, their young, immature bodies lashed while they screamed in pain.

 

I let my fingers feel the folds of her sex, her anus, the backs of her knees and back to her anus.

For a moment, I paused and studied my target. Nola was tensing and shifting her pale ass cheeks again and that made her look suggestively sexy. I watched her asshole twitch.

 

“I’ve got plenty of time to have fun before I get you out of here.” I fingered her asshole again. She gasped and tried to squirm away but I held her firmly around the waist. The prolonged and repeated fingering of her asshole told her what was going to happen.

 

“Do you want the guards doing this to the girl’s?” I threatened.  They had done much worse than that, forcing the girls to take adult cocks in their little girl bodies.

 

Circumstances had changed since Nola could flick back her long hair and stare contemptuously as the men who admired her.  Humiliation was a necessary part of my plan.

 

I displayed my penis again for her, holding it under her eyes, directing Nola to look at it, telling her to imagine how it would feel when it stretched her ass.

 

Nola gasped, the contemptuous eyes glaring at me in fury and her face glowing with anger. But though she tensed her buttocks, tightened her mouth in defiance and pulled vainly at the straps holding her wrists, she could not prevent what was being done to her.

 

I slipped two fingers into her ass.

 

Nola’s short uneven release of breath and the shifting of the mattress under the pressure of her knees betrayed her useless and writhing resistance.

 

I intended to impose submission and humiliation on the woman.

 

She gasped and cursed me, but I just smiled at her.

 

“Ask for it, Nola. Ask me to fuck your ass.”

 

“No,” she said. “That I won’t do, for any reason.”

 

“Well, Nola, I guess you can kiss freedom goodbye, then.” I said and got up and started for the door.

 

“Wait, please wait,” she begged.

 

I turned and smiled at the hysterical woman fettered to the bed. “What?” I said.

 

“Do it, please do it,” she said, crying.

 

“Do what, Nola, tell me?”

 

“F...fu...fuc...fuck....my...my...ass, please?”

 

“What else?”

 

“I don...don’t know, please don’t do this to me. Tell me?”

 

“And I’ll lick your smelly shitty cock clean.”

 

The shock of this brutal command silenced her. She lowered her head, hiding her face from me, and made no attempt to argue.

 

“Last chance.”

 

“I...I’ll li...lick your sme....smelly, shi..tty coc..k clean.”

 

I made her wait, pretending to think about her request. Her limbs wrestled in vain against the bonds that held her. As she writhed, the swelling cheeks of her ass touched and parted.

 

Then I knelt astride. I steadied her ass with my hands. While I adjusted the angle of my cock to her anus, she still panted and squirmed, the mattress moving under her knees.

 

Nola’s wrists were still firmly strapped to the metal frame but now she began to writhe her bare legs and twist her hips in final resistance. The bed creaked. My hand smacked hard on the bare flesh in front of me.

 

My hot cock touched the cool smoothness of her ass. Then the stiffness probed between the cheeks into the humid warmth. There were gasps and short, angry wails from Nola as she felt the raw meat enter. As she twisted her head, trying to look around desperately, I made a final effort. Nola gave a short gasp deep in her throat, a vain rejection of what was being done to her. I felt the thrilling tightness of her asshole pass over the head of my thrusting cock. I pressed full length and there was a quiet cry of alarm as she felt the size and depth of the intrusion.

 

Her resistance stopped. Though Nola loathed what was being done and hated the man who was doing it, her feminine instinct warned her of the havoc she might cause to her body by struggling too hard while impaled.

 

I looked down at the swelling cheeks. Almost the entire length of my meat had vanished and Nola’s asshole was desperately stretched around the shaft.

 

I put my arm around her neck and drew her head back until the pain of resistance made Nola grunt. I held her head back so that I lay with my head touching hers.

 

“Ready for the fun to begin, Nola?” I asked. I bit her ear, murmuring to her, “You’re really tight, I’m going to make it hard for you.

 

I sodomized the woman for twenty minutes. I paused from time to time because I wanted to prolong my pleasure. Nola didn’t lie quietly. Her buttocks tensed and her hips shifted as she panted.

 

Through clenched teeth, she spit out her revulsion and contempt for me as I pumped her ass in a rictus of struggling and frenzy. I stopped smiling and let my face stare with vindictive sadism as I rode Nola hard to climax.

 

I let go of her neck and watched her ass to excite myself to the maximum. Nola's asshole was stretched hard around the plunging cock. My balls exploded sending me into delirious ecstasy.

There was a sound of revulsion from Nola when I withdrew and dripped semen onto her ass.

 

Chapter 10

 

Surely against the tenets of his religion, Mohammed was watching this spectacle with a cigar in his hand. Ali was seated on a stool behind the suspended naked whipped woman making preparations for the second part of Nola’s sentence. He held, in his right hand, a long needle with a wooden handle and placed it in the glowing brazier.

 

Ali held the needle in the flame until it was glowing. Fixing his chosen spot with the fingers of his left hand, he touched the flesh of the flagellated ass with the needle’s tip. He held it there a second, then withdrew it.

 

Nola’s screech of pure agony and terror tore from her throat.

 

A dark spot appeared on her ass, no bigger than a pin’s head, from the needle’s unholy burn. Ali began to cover the underside of the contorting buttocks with more jabbing probes.

 

Nola’s limbs contracted, she jerked at her bonds. Ali dotted the whole under-side of her crimson ass with tiny blisters and worked now in between the welted cheeks.

 

Her body convulsed. Her head went back, her eyes went wide, no breath came from her mouth as the hot probing needle searched the crack of her ass. Finally Nola exhaled a long and hopeless groan.

* * *

 

     Mohammed strode forward. It was his turn at the heathen white prisoner. He lifted the front of his robe. There was a pause, then another wail of despair from Nola as the man shoved, gritting his teeth. She rose on her toes, moaning and crying, “Nooooh...not there....please not there...oh..un..ooooh!”

 

Mohammed commenced a steady pitiless pistoning.

 

Nola, wailing, gasping bucked her hips frantically trying to push off her impalement. The crowd watched the spasm with amazement.  It was much worse than she’d expected, more disgusting and frightening and it got much worse when he began heartlessly to piston in and out of her ravaged ass. She began to groan and sweat.

 

“Please...ow...oh...please, stop!”

 

“You bitch, sit back on me,” Mohammed grunted, “or I’ll have Ali twist your nipples with red-hot pincers.”

 

The penetration of the largest cock she had ever felt forced her to try to sever herself from the rod. For her body told her not only of its immense thickness but that there were several more inches to come.

“No....nugh....no!”

 

More of the prick ploughed into her as the man impaled her. He reached around her and twisted her nipples until she screamed.

 

Nnngggh...ough...pfffff!”

 

Still fighting to get free, she grunted, snorted and sweated in humiliation and raw pain. She felt the jam of his hard balls against her body. Then the brute scalded his load into her, ejaculating in jets of filthy slime.

 

She never felt him slide out of her. She had fainted.

 

Chapter 11

 

(To be continued) Nola still has to take care of her oral chores with Curt and the children still have to be "questioned". And of course Nola gets a life sentence for her involvement in the coup.  And the girls??? How long for the dope in their shoes. I could use some help if anyone is interested. This chapter probably should precede the existing chapter 10. 

 

First published: October 24, 1993 as Pamela1.zip

Edited and Updated: March 30, 1994 as Nola28.zip "The Cruise"

 

 

From Powerone:  I have always loved this story, though it isn’t written in my style.  I love the details.  After reading this story for many years, I finally decided to add the missing chapter.  Or at least the one of the girls being questioned and the punishment for the dope in their shoes.  I did make one minor change in the original story.  It had said that they didn’t touch for the girls for four weeks.  I thought that was a little unbelievable, so I changed it to read that they did start “questioning” them, lying to Nora that the girls were untouched.