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  "And so I shall," he chuckled. Sathana now bent down and flicked her tongue over the girl's gaping cunt. A sobbing groan was heard, as the captive's head tilted back, then down, her breasts heaving, her eyes closed.

  "Don't grant her such kindness, my dear one," the Magala Khan objected. "She deserves to be dry-fucked-and dry-buggered, too."

  So saying, he stepped up to her, his hands sinking into her fiery, swollen asscheeks, and pressed the swollen head of his prick against the gaping pink lips of Marcia's cunt.

  Now the realization of what was to happen to her made her stiffen and try one time to close her thighs against his inroads. With a mocking laugh he thrust himself forward, felt her hymen break, and gloried in her bellow of agony.

  Then his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs pressing against the circle of those devilish pins still embedded in her sensitive flesh. Her eyes rolled and bulged as she felt that mighty prick dig into her.

  "Eeeeeyyyahhh! Oh, take it out, take it out! It's too big-it'll kill me! Oh, I'm going to die!"

  Pitilessly he thrust it past her hymen and on into her matrix. She felt as if she were stretched out and cut in two by the thrust of that great prick. Strapping on a dildo, Sathana now approached the weeping Jacqueline Wilson. She, too, squeezed the young women's wounded naked bottom, threatening Jacqueline with unspeakable torments if Jacqueline did not obey.

  And then as a finale, the two young women were tied high in the air between horizontal uprights, their arms drawn back behind their heads, tied in a curious living hammock.. .and Jacqueline Wilson was bound with a leg and thigh against Marcia's thigh, her cunthole coming exactly down over Marcia's mouth, while her own sobbing lips confronted her former mistress's quim. And before the night was done, the whip had compelled both women to sixty-nine each other. And then Marcia Chalmers knew the pain and the degradation of being browned; forced under the lash and the threat of new pins forming another design on the two cheeks which divided the two halves of her bare bottom, she was obliged to lick and suck her master's cock to prepare it for her own asshole.

  In this position, released from the hammock of suspension, she was turned over a low teakwood stool. A rope was tied around her tresses and pulled forward, dragging her head down to the floor, lofting her derriere into the air. Magala Khan spread the cheeks apart with his fingers, and pressed his hard cock against the virgin rosette. Marcia Chalmers shrieked for mercy: "Oh, Oh, not there, for dear God's sake! Fuck me again, all you want, but not there, I beg you!"

  "You see," he said, turning to his mistress, who handed him an elegant little jar of lubricating ointment, "it always works. In all the world there is no better way to subjugate a haughty, pampered slut than what we have here on . "

  With this, ruthlessly spreading poor Marcia's bottom-cheeks, Magala Khan set the great head of his prick against the shrinking, fearful little asshole's shrinking, fearful little asshole. Slowly, despite her wild cries and hysterical moans for mercy, he buried himself in her asshole almost to the balls.

  CHAPTER TWELVE - UNHOLY UNION

  Two weeks had passed since John Granville and his beautiful daughter, Betty, had survived the wreck of the Anastasia and become guests of Lord Philbrock. The handsome San Francisco widower had enjoyed during this time the life of a sybarite with three beautiful handmaidens to do his bidding and to attend to his erotic needs. Irene and Claire, as well as the beautiful Iris had come to his bed at night, as passionate as he, for he had recovered his virility as, delighting in their beauty without especially favoring any one, he summoned each in turn to fuck or bugger or to have them French him.

  Yet he was not blind to the terrible dangers of life on this desolate atoll, for all its luxuries and incredible license to orgiastic freedom. Magala Khan often, at the formal banquets that he and Betty attended, had stared greedily at his beautiful golden-haired daughter, in a way that John Granville could not mistake. His friendship with Lord Henry Philbrock was miraculously lucky and he knew that he was on a kind of probation, that Betty could easily be taken from him by force and he himself easily fed to the sharks.

  He therefore cultivated the friendship of Elvire St. Cyr, and Marjorie Sayers and her daughters Velma and Marguerite. Also, he saw to it that beautiful Sathana received her share of compliments, and he found her a fascinating woman, versed not only in language but also in the arts and philosophy.

  Betty was voluptuously beautiful. Somehow on this tropical isle, her latent womanhood had begun to flower, and she wore a black satin sleeveless dress whose skirt clung to mid-thigh, gauzy, gunmetal opera-length stockings fixed by a narrow black satin elastic garter belt, the wispiest of panties, matching bra, and high-heeled pumps.

  Her golden hair was lovely. It fell in a luxurious, long pageboy, which stressed her femininity. There was nothing perverse about her, but nonetheless, Elvire and Marguerite coveted her openly with their darting glances, a fact which John Granville knew well.

  He and Lord Henry Philbrock had had a private and very personal discussion in the latter's library only last night. There was one of the worlds' greatest libraries of erotic books from virtually every civilized nation of the earth, with illustrations that detailed fucking, buggering, lesbianism, and all the evils that passionate and imaginative men and women had dreamt of, the Nirvana, the kind of paradise that was always promised through the eons for the faithful and the industrious.. .but somehow was only achieved by Lord Henry Philbrock and the denizens of .

  "I've have good reports on you, Granville," Lord Philbrock said. The owner and master of had greeted him clad only in a luxurious velvet dressing gown and sandals. On each side of him knelt an enchantingly beautiful young woman, neither much more than twenty. One was a honey-haired, petite, winsome creature, wearing oversize horn-rimmed spectacles, which gave her a paradoxically frivolous and charming look which was no distraction from her distracting beauty. She had lovely, high-set thighs, sleek calves, and round, orange-like breasts, and an even saucier bottom which was upstandingly rounded. Her skin was a baby pink, and it was very visible because she wore a kind of harem attire, a gauzy bolero jacket of net and flimsy pantaloons from waist to ankles, while her bare feet were thrust into thong sandals.

  The other girl was black-haired, slim and tall, with a bubbling, girlish allure to her body. Her breasts were small but beautifully firm and closely spaced, her waist very slim, and her bottom mannishly compact. With short, bobbed hair, she looked disturbingly like a young tragedian, one of those boy-girls whom the ancient Greeks adored in switch-hitting roles. But there was nothing boyish about her cunt, as John Granville found out.

  Because, as they talked, Lord Philbrock had been letting the dainty, bespectacled blonde girl open the folds of his robe, and, while kneeling on her palms, lick and suck his cock. Then suddenly, saying curtly to John Granville, "Excuse me for a moment," the wiry Englishman seized the other girl by the hair, flung her down on her back and pressed his stiff cock to the balls into her cunthole. At once her long, slim legs wrapped over his bottom, and she hugged herself to him, arching up her loins to accept his masculine and capable prick.

  He fucked her solidly and vigorously, and then withdrew leaving her panting and whimpering, with his cock hard as a rock, not having had his own climax. Then he had the bespectacled blonde slave slip his robe back on, kneel down and kiss his feet, and then remain at his side awaiting further orders, before he resumed the conversation.

  "As I was about to say, Granville, I've had good reports about you. There were only one or two dissenting voices. My little inventor, Bernard Kagan, is uneasy about you. He feels it is unwise to take into our inner circles one who may well go back to what even I myself used to call civilization. It would be easy for you to threaten us."

  "Not exactly, Lord Henry," Granville readily rejoined, with a disarming smile. "Aren't you forgetting that when you do sell your slaves off to the market in the Far or Middle East, your gifted doctor gives them a kind of serum which destroys t
heir memory of what happens here?"

  Lord Philbrock scowled and took a step closer to the handsome widower.

  "Where the devil did you learn that?"

  "From Velma," Granville innocently replied. "Last night Velma saw fit to pay Betty a visit and tried to make lesbian love with my daughter. My daughter was wise enough not to respond to her advances, but in trying to win her affections, Velma was somewhat indiscreet. Have no fear. I have not the slightest intention of returning to civilization."

  "But you will. Your wealth, your company, your enterprises."

  "They can be transferred and settled easily enough by cabled directives to some of my associates," Granville replied. "Remember, now that my wife is dead and I went on this cruise because of her death, to forget her if I could, I've come to the conclusion that I have enough money to last me the rest of my life. Living here is like the realization of a dream. If you trust me, as I must trust you, I see no reason why we should not be friends."

  "Spoken like a man of practical wisdom," Lord Philbrock smiled. "But let me give you one piece of advice. As I've told you before, Magala Khan is in a sense my partner, and I owe more to him than that implies. Without his help, without his financing at the outset. would never have been. So when he expresses a wish, I respect it, and I find it difficult to cross him. He is an implacable enemy."

  "Well?"

  "He has asked me for your daughter as a slave," came the astonishing reply. John Granville was sick at heart, but he dared not show his feelings.

  "You are silent, Granville." Lord Henry glanced down irritably at the blonde and then snarled at her, "Clumsy one, I gave you a signal to kiss my toes, and you have gone beyond your authority. You will tell my overseer, Tom, this evening before bedtime to take you to the Dungeon of Atonement, and give you fifteen lashes on your breasts and ten in between your legs with the silken whip. Then you may tell him that it is my order that he bugger you, and you will thereafter clean his cock with your lips and tongue. Do you understand, Judith?"

  With tears in her eyes, with trembling lips, the lovely girl nodded, then went back to licking his toes as dutifully as if he had not already sentenced this terrible ordeal on her young and nubile body.

  Philbrock stared more intently into the eyes of John Granville, searching for a flicker of weakness, that would signal his downfall. But Granville remained composed and calm, and though his heart screamed in agony even as he spoke the words, he smiled and said, "Yes, let it be so. I'm sure Betty will find Khan a deserving master."

  "It will be the culmination," Lord Henry continued, "of the pageant I am about to hold tomorrow night for our honored guests. There is the Emir Sikander Bey of Kaffiristan, who comes here every year to buy a half-dozen slaves for his household. There is the Right Honorable Lady Florence Aston, of London, from which I am still exiled. She, on the other hand, is a member of the House of Commons and a lesbian. She buys a slave or two from me, from time to time, and takes them home to London to be her bedfellows and servants. And there are others. You and Betty will be in a loge of honor, and from it, before the games begin, I will announce Betty's enslavement. Are we agreed?"

  John Granville held out his hand, and the master of Slave Island grasped it firmly, his eyes gleaming with a cruel irony.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN - KAGAN'S DESIRE

  They had gathered in the loges of the great arena, and lovely, almost-naked servitors were hurrying up and down the aisles to carry intoxicating beverages, snacks, and complimentary magazines to the guests. Lord Henry Philbrock announced, speaking into a microphone concealed in the arm of his chair in the loge and connected to a loud speaker system that could boom throughout the arena, "My dear friends, the scene you will see is that of the punishment of two women who had dared to refuse Bernard Kagan's command to gamahuche each other while he watched, and then to kneel side by side, turning their bowed heads so that they might kiss while he buggered each in turn.

  At this the servants led in each captive in her turn; the older first, named Flora Grange, a Canadian who, with her young charge, had embarked on a cruise from Vancouver to Tokyo eight months ago, and on the journey back fallen into the hands of the rulers of , thanks to Kagan's ingeniously devised magnetic reef.

  She was about five feet eight, willowy, thirty-six, but stunningly handsome; her closely cropped dark brown hair, her alert features, insolent mouth, cold gray-green eyes and aquiline nose suggested the dominatress; and indeed she was. For she coveted Kitty Carlton-a girl of nineteen, and a charming, saucy-faced, coppery-haired beauty-with an unnatural lust. Ironically, at the very moment their steamer had struck the fatal reef, she had crept into her stateroom bent on girlfucking and teaching Kit to gamahuche and engage in a sixty-nine. She had feared rebuff-but what she did not know, and did not learn, ironically, till she was the slave of Kagan along with Kitty, was that she shared the same lesbian penchants. That was why both had indignantly and abhorrently refused to let the little wizened German bugger them.

  Now, before this assembled crowd, Kagan's fantasy would be carried out. Having each been taught the painful reward of refusal (by means of repeated whippings) Flora Grange was forced to nestle herself on top of her young friend and lick her cunny. Kitty was directed to lick and suck her pussy, which hung suspended over her mouth.

  The first taste of the slippery cunt shocked the poor girl and she tried to turn her head away. Anticipating this reaction, Kagan brought a whip down hard upon Flora's bottom-cheeks. The reaction was just what the cruel little German expected. She jerked her hips down tightly onto Kitt's mouth and ground her cunny hard, seeking some kind of relief from the burning of her backside. To Kagan's great delight neither of his two slaves needed any further prompting. The two women-licked and sucked each other with a passion, obviously enjoying the pleasure that they had so steadfastly refused earlier.

  Kagan, watching the scene intently, yanked Flora off Kitty as soon as he saw the squirming and heard the labored breathing that told him their climaxes were fast approaching. He didn't mean for the women to achieve that ultimate pleasure with each other-at least not at first.

  The little German called softly to the younger girl, directing her to stand in front of him, her back and her firm, perky backside facing him. She was then forced to kneel on hands and knees in the dirt at his feet. Flora aunt soon joined her, so close together that their hips and shoulders touched. Kagan reveled in the spectacular view that was arrayed in front of him. The two women, crouched in the dirt in front of him, trembling and painfully aware of the audience that surrounded them. Their matched set of asscheeks quivered with trepidation as they guessed what was to be their fate. To Kagan it looked as if there was one strange creature in front of him-a creature with four delightfully rounded bottom-cheeks, like a row of giant toe-tips.

  Kitty, unable to bear the suspense, glanced furtively over her shoulder and so saw Kagan unveiling his long, thin love-pole. It sprang from a mass of curly hair and jerked and bobbed as if trying to reach the belly above.

  Kitty shrieked in terror and Kagan's prick throbbed in response, anxious to make the acquaintance of the frightened girl and prove, once and for all, that her fears were well-founded and her virtue utterly lost.

  The excited inventor crouched behind Kitty, and, without further hesitation, shoved his long rod into her virgin backside. She screamed in shock and pain and Flora almost rose, attempting to come to the young girl's aid.

  Kagan reached out one hand and slapped her buttocks, shouting for her to remain still. By then he had completed his entry into Kitty's tightly clenched butt-hole and he began a surprisingly gentle in-and-out motion. As soon as it seemed apparent that the girl had become acclimated to the strange sensation of being plugged in so confining a space, Kagan pulled all the way out and mercilessly shoved his prick all the way into the bottom-hole of the girl's companion.

  Another piercing scream rent the air in the arena. This time Kitty tried to come to the aid of her friend and
was similarly rewarded with a stinging slap on her naked backside. "Stay put, girl," Kagan rasped. "I'll tell you when I want you to move. In fact, you may now kiss your new girlfriend. I want to watch the two of you French kissing while I bugger each of you. I want to see lots of moving lips and darting tongues, mind!"

  Rather than being disgusted by such a command, Kitty and Flora found solace in each other's lips and tongues and they were even able to pretend that the assault being wreaked upon their backsides was just a part of their own passionate tonguing.

  Kagan, delighted by the obvious pleasure the two women were taking in his command, continued to bugger first one and then the other until he jerked free of the clenching anal canal that encased him and spewed his cream over the quivering backsides of both women.

  The audience roared its approval while the two women, startled out of their sensuous dream-like state, stared about them in wonderment.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN - RESCUE

  "I had two more events planned for this evening," Lord Henry grumbled, "but I defer to the will of my good friends. John and Betty Granville, come kneel before me in the aisle, join hands and repeat these vows after me!"