A literotic sexstories: The Slave Trainers–Part Three by liminater ,
The girl’s eyes were no longer on the floor, they were on Everett, and were wide with fear. She didn’t say anything right then, but she was obviously terrified, and I couldn’t tell if she more afraid of the noose and what it might mean, or of Everett if she tried to beg or cry. Everett stepped behind her and quickly tied her hands with a double slip-knotted rope he was holding… she was secure, her hands behind her, neck in the noose, and as Everett stepped away he motioned to Don who pulled on the rope… but not hard and fast, as I’d expected, just sort of gently, pulling firmly until the girl’s feet were about three inches above the floor.
Her eyes went even wider as the rope was pulled taut, and I was expecting her to cry out or scream, but all that came out was a gasp as her breath was drastically reduced. I could hear her wheezing in as much air as she could, and her mouth was working, opening, and closing, almost like she was trying to bite into the air and pull it into her lungs with ehr teeth. Her feet and legs were going wild, kicking and flailing… I was watching the way you watch a wreck happen, when you see that it’s going to happen and you know you can’t prevent it,,, but even though it’s horrible, you can’t tear your eyes away from that spot.
Everett walked over next to me. “It’s freaky, isn’t it?” he said. “Gets me how many of our buyers get off on this.”
I looked around at him and stared. “Are… is she gonna die? Are you killing her?” My mind was racing, trying to figure out how I could stop what looked like murder, or an execution.
Everett laughed. “Naw, hell no! This is part of her training. Lots of our buyers like to hang their girls, see how long they last before they pass out. If they can learn how to stay awake longer, the buyers are happy, and they pay more for the girls we bring ’em that are trained this way. See how she’s gulping in air, but turning purple in the face? She won’t last more than a few minutes this time, but after we hang her a few times, she’ll learn the tricks to gulping in big gasps of air and letting it out so she can gulp in more. Right now she’s just trying to get air into her lungs, and she’s got ’em so full they can’t take in any more, that’s why she’ll pass out.”
I looked back at the girl. “So… you want her to learn to stay alive while she’s hung like a rustler? What if she dies?”
Everett shrugged, and for the first time I got a glimpse of how cold a man he really was. I’d known that when I first came here I might not leave the place alive… but I was an undercover cop, and I had understood that this was a risk I took when I accepted this line of work. But to see him shrug nonchalantly over this poor girl… I realized that human life meant nothing to men like him… and it shocked me to realize that I might be as bad, for as I watched the girl hang there and struggle, I felt an incredible rush of power over her. I did not want her to die… but the thought that at that moment, Everett had absolute power over whether she lived or died was turning me on and making me uncomfortably hard..
“Sometimes when the buyers play this way, one of the girls dies. We don’t let that happen in training, of course, but once they’re sold, it happens now and then. Just means the buyer will be back for another, I guess.”
I stood there an watched for almost three minutes as the girl’s struggles grew weaker and her face grew darker. When I was about to decide that I had to cut her down, regardless of what it would mean for my cover, Everett looked over at Don and said, “Let ‘er down… that’s enough for the first time,” and Don complied. The girl collapsed onto the floor and Don moved to quickly loosen the noose so that she could breathe. She began to gasp loudly, and hoarsely, as if her throat was sore… I imagined it must be. The rope had left a deep reddish abrasion around her throat. Don untied her hands and Everett told me to get her cleaned up and back to the dorm.
She had pissed and shit herself with fear, sphincters letting go as she lost hope and accepted death. When she realized she had been released and was going to live, hysterics hit her, and it was all I could do to get her washed and bedded back down. The other girls had no clue what had happened, and stared at her, each of them wondering what could have made her so scared and reduced her to gibbering… but not one of them looked at me directly or asked.
I stood for a moment and watched her, and then looked the other girls over. It dawned on me then that, like Everett, I had power over them, and that power grew incredibly intoxicating in my mind as I thought about it. We were out in the middle of the desert, and no one knew where any of these girls had gone. While I could not imagine wanting any of them to die, it gave me an awesome feeling of power to realize that if one did… she would simply be another of the unfound runaways, just as if she were shipped out of the country and sold. No one would ever know…
The days passed, and each day saw something new that excited me. I saw Pam get her fist lessons in behavior from a woman named Rita, who taught the girls how to shave themselves, how to keep their eyes downcast properly, how to stand and walk and sit the way Masters liked… it was interesting, and it was doubly so as I realized that Pam was now enjoying her new life and looking forward to the lessons she was learning, even the ones that hurt. By the end of her second week there, when I brought her to the dungeon, she was suppressing a smile as I bound her to the cross and Mitch picked up a whip and walked toward her. I watched and was startled when it dawned on me that she was cumming from the pain he was inflicting on her! What a rush that was…
Each day also saw me learning more and more about the business, as Everett would sit with me and talk at times, or Don or Mitch or others who came and went would share little tidbits with me. I learned that the operation was not a local one, but was worldwide… there were houses like this one in several other states and many countries. It didn’t matter where slaves came from… all that mattered was there was enough demand to create an incredibly profitable market, and for those who had the stomach to trade in human flesh, the possibilities were endless.
About the beginning of the fourth week, Everett called me to the kitchen table shortly after I had bedded the girls down for the night.
“Jack’s on his way in,” he said, “with a special order.”
“Far out,” I answered. I was wondering what kind of special order when he went on.
“I mentioned some things to you once, and you kinda freaked out on me. So I need to know if you’re gonna be able to handle some new stuff. Are you with us completely, now?”
My heart began to race, and for a split second I wondered if he had guessed who and what I really was… but then it dawned on me that if he had, he would not be talking to me, I’d already be dead; these people would think nothing of killing me in my sleep if they knew I was undercover. I gave him a broad smile, and said, ” I’m in! What kind of special order?”
Everett looked into my eyes, and I guess I pulled it off. “One of our best customers is a guy in Uruguay… and he likes ’em young, likes to play with ’em and bust their little cherries. He’s always willing to take two or three at a time, and he pays like a motherfucker… over a million and a half each! We all get a hundred thousand dollar bonus for each one we sell to him, and Jack’s bringin’ in three… so you’re gonna make an extra three hundred thousand this month. Think you can handle seeing little girls come through here for bonuses like that?”
As soon as he said the word “young”, I felt my dick begin to harden. I was bouncing between shock at myself, since I’d never thought of little girls as sexual objects before, and remembering the time I’d made the girl upstairs call me “Daddy” while I fucked her… and couldn’t stop the thoughts that ran through my mind. I nodded my head, unwilling to trust my voice with this confusion running through me.
Everett threw his head back and laughed! “Goddamn, Thunder, from the look on your face, you must be thinkin’ of how to spend it already!” I grinned and nodded again, letting him think that… “Well, hell, why not? Jack’ll be here any time, and you can help us with the young’ns!”
I found my voice. “Okay, do they…um, I mean, do we put them through the full treatment? All the same training the other girls get?”
“Nah, not for this guy. We play with ’em and eat ’em out, and teach ’em how to suck a dick and jack it off, but that’s about it… none of the really kinky shit. Buyer wants ’em to just be naughty little girls when he gets ’em, and then he’ll fuck ’em himself when he thinks they’re ready, usually after he plays with ’em for a few months. Once he’s fucked ’em, though, he’s done with ’em himself, and they get to entertain his guests and business partners from then on. Nice thing for them is they get taken care of like little princesses from then on, and by the time they’re grown, they’re so into their new lives that he gives ’em a small fortune and sets ’em free. a few of his older girls are makin’ their own fortunes down there now, buying plantations and shit with the money he gives ’em. They live better than they ever would here, most likely!”
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