Felicia by S. J. Lewis Page B

hard enough to make it sting, and that seemed to open her floodgates. She went from sobs to shrieks and wails, but she was no longer trying to pull free. He smiled, tightened his grip on her, and began to pound her as hard as he could. He didn’t care if she came or not. He didn’t even care if she found any of this enjoyable in the least. This little ritual was to establish his possession of her, and his right to do anything he wanted to her. It would take her some time to learn all this, but time was something he had in great quantities here: Time, and skill, and ruthlessness. Soon enough she would crawl naked on her hands and knees to him, begging most humbly to serve him in any way he desired. He slapped her ass again and kept on fucking her. She really was tight, and pleasurably so. He would come soon, marking this young blonde bitch as his property. Every one of the lovely young women here in his harem had undergone the same initiation.
    Felicia heard the man raping her groan and felt his thrusts grow even more rough and vigorous. She couldn’t stop her tears or her sobbing. And then she felt him stop abruptly, his cock deep inside of her, and make a strange, deep growling noise over and over as he came. She just wanted it to be over now. He slapped her ass twice, very hard, before pulling out, making her jerk and twitch in the hands of the other women who had all seen her debasement, and had even helped to make it possible. She hated them all. She wished them all horrible, painful, lingering deaths.
    Ismail smiled as he pulled out of the blonde bitch and gestured for Serai to clean his cock. That wasn’t the supple black woman’s original name. It had been too hard to pronounce, so he had given her a new one. She answered promptly to it now, dropping to her knees in front of him and taking his cock in her talented mouth. He stroked the short, tight curls on her head until she had finished, then closed his robe and turned to leave, signaling for Selim to follow him. His harem could take care of the blonde slut until it was time for the next part of her training. None of them would dare to tell her what was in store for her. They all knew better than to do that.

Chapter Six
    The blonde slut would soon receive her next lesson. Ismail had donned his desert robes for the event and personally selected those of his men who would be permitted to watch it. One of them was Assam, the spy who had first told him of the girl and her attributes. As a reward for his faithful service, Assam would be allowed to do more than simply watch. Ismail thought that he would enjoy that boon very much.
    To fully break a girl into an obedient slave required much training, discipline, pain and humiliation. She must have it driven home to her that she was no more than a body, a piece of delectable meat, and that her very existence depended on her learning how to please her master. Ismail had given the matter much thought, and had come to the conclusion that no one man could provide what was necessary for that training unless he devoted every waking moment to the matter. He did not have the time for that. As sheik, he had many other duties which could not be put off while he played with his new toy. And even if he had, there was too great a risk that he would become jaded and finally indifferent to the woman, no matter how beautiful she was. It could even happen with the blonde slut. At the moment it was difficult to imagine how that was possible. The memory of the round fullness of her hips as she knelt on the platform, the softness of her skin and the delightful tightness of her cunt as he had taken her before all the other inmates of his harem was still wonderfully fresh in his mind. Just that memory aroused him so powerfully that he wanted to slake his lusts on her again and again. But, if he gave in to that impulse, the slut would come to think that she was somehow important to him, and that would not do. Yet she still needed to be broken