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Larra looked at the simple clock on her dressing
table. Ten minutes to
seven. It was almost
time. Prinz’s henchmen would
be coming for her soon. From
the small barred window she could see the lights of
Her hair was collected with a silver clip and it flowed down her back, reaching halfway down her backside. Prinz liked it long and would not even let her trim it, unlike the hair surrounding her pubic mound, which she had insisted she remove. Faced with the choice of doing it herself or having it done for her Larra had taken the safety razor and removed the offending hair.
There were other changes as well. A gold ring pierced her left nipple. Prinz had put it there himself, using a red hot needle to make the opening. To her credit, Larra had managed to remain perfectly still as the brutal procedure was performed, but it had hurt like hell for days, and she was still not used to the gold ornament.
She was dressed provocatively, in a pair of sheer pantaloons that concealed almost nothing. On her feet she wore a pair of light silk slippers. Her torso was almost nude, her breasts concealed only by a filigree of silver and gold chains that hung from her throat and swayed back and forth as she moved.
Prinz had also insisted that she wear makeup, something she had never found necessary, but Prinz wanted to emphasize the violet of her eyes, her high cheekbones, and full lips. Larra suspected that he merely wanted to make her look more like a whore, but she had little choice.
She had defied him just one time after surrendering to his will in her basement prison. He had immediately turned her over to his men for another night of being gang raped. Larra had not been able to walk the next day and after that he had done everything he asked.
He had started her off slowly. The first few times she was forced to give oral sex to Prinz and then let him bed her. It was probably the most degrading thing she had ever had to do, but a few more rounds with Prinz’s men would probably have killed her. Now she wondered if she might not be better off dead. She was not allowed anywhere except in her tiny closet-like room or what she had come to think of as the “workroom.” It was there that she was presented to Prinz’s clients.
It was at that point however, that Prinz’s trust met its limits. When presented to his paying customers she was always chained, something that seemed to add to her allure as far as the clients were concerned. As a result she continually wore four other ornaments in the form of manacles on each wrist and shackles on each ankle.
A noise outside the door announced the arrival of her escort. She did not have to go far. The workroom was located only a few steps from her door, but the men who entered carried the chains for her shackles.
The procedure was always the same.
A small man in his fifties
entered. Larra had learned that
his name was “Donald,” which seemed a little strange considering
that Prinz’s high-priced brothel was in the middle of
“The usual, Zorra,” Donald said greeting her in English and using the name Prinz had given her. He waited until Larra held out her hands before attaching the chains to the metal cuffs on her wrists. There was no point in resisting and Donald had never shown her anything but the greatest courtesy in spite of the fact that he was one of Prinz’s lackeys. She waited patiently while he secured another set of chains to her ankles. Properly shackled, including a length of chain that connected her wrist chain and ankle chain, she was escorted from the room for the short walk to the workroom.
The workroom was only a few feet down the hall and Larra suspected that she was the only one who used it. No doubt Prinz charged high enough fees for her services that he could afford to set aside a special suite just for her. One of the guards opened the door and waited until Larra shuffled inside.
Unlike her room, the workroom was spacious and sumptuously furnished. It was dominated by a four poster bed large enough for five people. Directly above the bed was a large ceiling mirror. A liquor cabinet and bar took up part of one wall and a chest of drawers and wardrobe occupied another. Larra had good reason to know that that the wardrobe contained no clothing. What it did contain was a number of sex aids and devices that could be used for sado-masochistic pleasures; with evidence on the sado.
Her eyes widened slightly when she saw that the room was occupied by more than the usual single client. She immediately controlled herself. Many men were turned on by fear and it didn’t pay to show too much emotion, hostile or otherwise. She tried to keep her face blank and hoped that she would be able to ignore the comments of the only person in the room that she knew.
“Here she is, gentlemen. Incredibly beautiful and incredibly dangerous. I caution you against loosening her chains. However, if you make a mistake there are several bell pulls that will summon the guards.” He motioned to several heavy gold cords that hung from the ceiling at several points about the room.
“She doesn’t look that dangerous,” said one of the men. He was heavyset and swarthy as were many of the men who paid to enjoy her charms.
“I assure you,” Prinz said, “that she could kill you as easily as you could kill a fly. And just as quickly. She is like a leopard. Beautiful to look at, but with very sharp claws and teeth.”
“However did you come up with such a creature?” asked a second. Like the first speaker he was dark-complexioned, but lighter in build.
“Let me assure you, she was not easy to catch or hold and she is far from tamed. But I expect a few more months of service will eventually break her spirit.”
“It seems a shame to break such a beautiful animal,” said the one man who had not yet spoken. He had dark curly hair, but his features were lighter and he was of medium height. “However,” he continued with a grin, “I will be pleased to do my part.”
“Nevertheless it must be done. Not every client wants a woman who is capable of breaking his neck. She will be worth much more when she is tamed. And that is where you come in. You have paid to bed a tigress. Well, here she is. For the next few hours she is yours to enjoy, but do not cause her any permanent damage. She is useless to me if you mar that perfect beauty. Other than that you can do anything you want with her, the more painful the better.”
Larra stood silent throughout the entire conversation, which was conducted
in Turkish. Although she had
known little of the language when she had first come to
“Now, gentlemen I leave you to your pleasure,” Prinz finished. He turned and left the room, leaving Larra alone with her latest clients.
“I say we fuck her first,” said the swarthy man.
“I like your thinking, Timur,” said the second man. “Do we draw straws to see who goes first?”
The curly-haired man now spoke up. “Perhaps, Nedim, it would be appropriate if we asked the lady who she wants first.” He turned to Larra. “You do understand us don’t you?”
Larra gave him a blank stare, feigning ignorance, but the man was not fooled. “Come on. I have been watching you. You are very cool and collected, but I know that you have understood every word we have said. As Prinz said you are very dangerous. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Are you sure, Bilgin?” Nedim asked. “It doesn’t look like she understands anything we are saying to me.”
“No,” Timur interjected. “She knows alright, but she is stubborn. I doubt we will get an answer out of her. Anyway, I expect asking that sort of question is like asking her which one of her tits she wants cut off. The truth is she will hate every second of what we do to her.”
Nedim smiled. “Then let’s
get started. We only have until
The three men closed in on her, Nedim and Bilgin taking her arms and leading her toward the bed. Larra went unresisting, although it galled her to do so. It went completely against her nature to cooperate with her captors, but she had no intention of being dragged kicking and screaming to the bed. They would get her there anyway and the struggle would just make their conquest all the more pleasurable. She had only one form of resistance left and that was to simply let the men she was given to have their way with her. She had discovered that most men found a woman who refused to act in any way to a man who was fucking her made her highly undesirable.
Her three clients took Prinz’s advice seriously, not removing any of the chains until she was properly positioned on the bed. While Bilgin held her ankle chain, Timur and Nedim unhooked the chain connecting her chained wrists to her ankles and then pulled her arms over her head and secured them to the top posts. Then they removed her ankle chain and spread her legs, chaining each ankle to one of the posts. It was a position she had found herself in far too often since becoming a member of Prinz’s stable.
She took a deep breath and tried not to think of what was going to be done to her. All she could hope for was that it would be quick, but she knew that the three men about to rape her had hired her for a full day. It was going to be a long and brutal twenty-four hours.
Timur took her first. He stripped and clambered eagerly between her legs, breathing heavily in anticipation. His breath stank of garlic and his body of the sweat of anticipation. “You’re a quiet one,” he said. “But this should get you making some noise.” He thrust into her.
“Bitch,” Timur muttered. “Move that tight ass.”
“Maybe she can’t feel anything, Timur,” Bilgin giggled.
Nedim joined in the laughter, further angering Timur as he sank his shaft to the hilt in Larra’s tight pussy without eliciting the slightest reaction.
Timur’s face darkened in anger, and Larra braced herself for what was
almost certainly coning next.
“Move, whore,”
Larra lay still as death, using all of her training and strength of will to ignore what Timur was doing to her. He slapped her face and pinched her nipples, all without casing her to so much as quiver.
“Easy, Nedim cautioned. “We don’t want to damage the merchandise. Remember what Prinz said.”
“Perhaps this will help. It should make her move whether she wants to or not.” Bilgin had been exploring the wardrobe and had come up with something interesting. It was a little apparatus that Prinz had already tried out on her and it would certainly do what Bilgin hoped it would.
It was a wooden case about a foot long, four inches deep, and six inches high. In it were lined up four telephone batteries connected in parallel. Two electrical leads led from it, each ending in a metal alligator clip. “This won’t cause any marks, but it might break down her resistance.”
“Fucking bitch,” Timur grumbled as he pulled out of her. “Let me do it. She owes me.” Bilgin nodded and handed the device to Timur. He moved back toward Larra. “Let’s see how you like this on your tits.” He snapped first one then the other of the alligator clips over Larra’s erect nipples, and then closed the knife switch, completing the circuit.
Larra arched her body. The high amperage current was excruciating. It felt as if her nipples were on fire. That’s more like it,” Timur crowed. He turned the device off and then on again, watching with satisfaction as Larra’s body jerked each time.
“Let’s try two,” Bilgin suggested. He held another of the devices in his hands. Quickly he moved to the bed and Larra felt a sharp pain as one of the alligator clips was snapped on to the lips of her vulva. The other was snapped onto her clitoral hood. “Between the two of us we should be able to break her.”
“Uunnggh!” It took fifteen minutes, but between the two of them Timur and Bilgin finally got the reaction they wanted. It began as a single cry that Larra could simply not hold back. Then she screamed as the savage torture of her breasts and genitals continued. When Timur finally mounted her again she was broken physically and mentally. She grunted with pain when he thrust into her.
Two hours later Nedim finally finished with her, but Timur wasn’t. He had fully recovered his erection while Nedim and Bilgin had taken their turn and this time when he slid between her thighs he was rewarded with a moan as Larra protested his entry into her bruised vagina.
The rape continued all night long, each man taking his turn. When they finally tired of taking her normally they flipped her over, placed a bolster beneath her stomach and took her anally.
Larra screamed as Timur forced his way into her tight sphincter. If the vaginal rape had been painful it was as nothing compared to the pain of Timur forcing his way into her anus. Timur grunted in satisfaction as he fought his way into her. It took most of his strength to penetrate her fully, but he didn’t stop until Larra’s firm buttocks pressed against his abdomen. Then he raped her until she bled, finally pulling out and turning her over to Bilgin.
“Damn,” Timur panted. “I don’t have anything left. I couldn’t even blow my load.”
“I’m finished too,” Nedim admitted even as Bilgin began to fuck Larra for the fourth time. “What say we find some other way to amuse ourselves?”
They waited until Bilgin was finished before bringing out an assortment of sex toys, including several overly large dildos. “These should do,” Timur grinned. “Should have used these to loosen her up. It was a lot of work getting in there.”
“Enjoyable work,” Bilgin corrected. “I’d fuck that tight cunt any time over the loose whores we usually have.”
“Let’s get started,” Nedim urged. “We only have a few hours left and I want to make her scream.”
Larra lay helpless on the bed, too exhausted to move. Her body ached from the constant pounding the three men had given her and even if the chains had been removed she doubted she could have taken a single step without assistance. She was helpless to stop the three men from carrying out their next act.
They unchained her right ankle from the lower part of bedpost and then lifting her leg high, chained it to the top leaving her lying with her body twisted and her legs wide apart, allowing simultaneous access to both her vagina and anus. Timur took the former and Nedim the latter, sliding dildos into her lower orifices. Nothing that any of the men had done to her was as painful as what they did to her for the next few hours.
Her screams were so agonizing and so loud that Bilgin finally gagged her to save their ears. It took considerable force to push the oversized dildo between the lips of her vulva and even more to force the smaller dildo into the tight rosebud of her anus. And while Timur and Nedim amused themselves with the vaginal and anal rape Bilgin once again brought out the telephone batteries and connected one to each of her nipples. Larra’s body convulsed both at the surge of electricity through her and at the pain of her sexual violation. But she was spared a few hours of the treatment when even her ability to endure torture reached its limits. With a final muffled scream, she fainted, leaving her disappointed clients with no one to play with for the last few hours of their session.
“Not much to her. Thought she’d last long than that.”
“I think we may have been had. Prinz put one over on us. Charging triple for some whore in chains and claiming that she’s dangerous.”
The voices buzzed into clarity. Larra recognized the first speaker as Timur and the second as Bilgin. She moaned as she regained full consciousness.
“She’s awake,” Bilgin observed. “Let’s give her a three-way.”
“We need to take the chains off for that,” Nedim cautioned. “Prinz warned us not to.”
“Fuck Prinz,” Timur said. “We’ve been diddled. This whore is about as dangerous as a twelve-year-old virgin.”
“I agree,” Begin said. “I get her ass.”
“Then I’ll take her mouth,” Timur replied.
“We’ll take it in turns,” Nedim commented. “No need to claim anything.”
There was a murmur of assent form the other two men. Larra felt the sensation of a key in the lock of her manacles and then her wrists were free. Her ankles followed, but she was still too weak to do more than lie where she was, but the three clients soon fixed that.
They stretched her out across the bed so that she was face down with her head hanging over the edge. Then Timur and Belgin lifted her so that Nedim could position himself underneath her. He thrust into her even as Timur grabbed her hair and arched her head back so he could take her in the mouth. A few seconds later Beglin began to force his way into her anus.
The ordeal was nothing compared to what the three men had already done to her, but Larra was still too weak to fight back. She grunted pitifully as her three assailants brutalized her, fighting for breath as she tried to swallow Timur’s phallus and get air into her lungs at the same time. Somehow, as the triple rape proceeded she felt some of her strength return. It was not much. Certainly she could not have taken on any competent opponent in hand to hand combat. But she was not facing a competent opponent, only three “clients” unaware of the danger they faced.
She bit down hard, nearly biting through Tumur’s engorged penis while at the same time twisting her body so that she could bunch her legs. She kicked out hard, catching the shocked and terrified Belgin in the chest. Even only at half her strength the blow knocked him right across the bed and onto the floor.
Nedim tried to grab her, but received the heel of her hand on his nose. There was a bloody splat as she flattened it against his skull, and then she rolled off the bed and onto her feet. She swayed as she landed, her head swimming from the exertion. Sixteen hours of being brutalized by the three men had left her barely able to stand, and her reaction to their brutality had been more automatic than anything else.
The slight delay gave the three men time to recover, but they made no attempt to attack her. Instead they ran screaming for the door, which opened even as Larra lurched after them. The brothel guards swarmed into the room. They were all armed, but Larra was a valuable commodity so each man carried a rubber padded truncheon rather than a firearm. They formed a semicircle around her and closed in.
The fight was short and one-sided. Completely exhausted from her ordeal, Larra could barely stand. She managed to block one blow, but a second got through, catching her on side of her head. She staggered and was struck three more times in quick succession. She went down, blackness sweeping over her.
Prinz stood over the unconscious woman. Even as badly brutalized as she had been, she was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. It was frustrating that she was so hard to break. He had never encountered a woman who had lasted this long. He would have to punish her again. He couldn’t have her doing what she had just done, not to clients who paid as well as the men she had attacked. They had been fools to let her loose after being warned; nevertheless her reaction could not be tolerated.
Her eyelids fluttered and she opened her incredible violet eyes. She stared around her vacantly and then she caught sight of him. “Where am I?” she muttered. “Who are you?”
“Your name is Zorra,” Prinz answered slowly, “and I am your master.” He moved one step closer to the bed, studying her face. She was a very clever woman. It was more than possible that she was faking her lack of memory.
“My master?” she asked, her voice low. It was obvious that she was still suffering from the ordeal she had suffered at the hands of her last three clients and the beating his over-zealous guards had given her. He had demoted all of them. The beating had left her covered in bruises and useless for any work for several weeks at the very least. She had been unconscious for three days and he had only looked in on her when the doctor had sent a message that she showed signs of returning to consciousness. Prinz raised an eyebrow and looked at the doctor.
Doctor Helm was a shriveled up little man who had been disbarred from medical practice due to certain activities involving illegal abortions, but he was the perfect choice to work in a brothel. “It is possible that she is suffering from amnesia,” he said. “You and your thugs put her through quite a brutal ordeal and it would be very surprising if she did not suffer some sort of mental trauma as a result.”
Prinz turned to the woman he called Zorra. “Tell me what you remember,” he ordered, “and I will try to help you.”
Half an hour later, Prinz walked from the room, Dr. Helm
following. If Zorra was lying
then she was very good at it. He
had been unable to detect the slightest evidence of dissimulation in her
replies to his questions. She
seemed to have forgotten everything prior to the beating she had
received. If it was true then
the adventurer known as
“How long will her condition last?” he asked.
Helm shrugged. “There is no way of knowing. It could be hours or even months. It is even possible that she will never regain her memory if she is not helped, especially if she is deliberately led in the wrong direction.”
“You mean if I tell her that her name is Zorra and that she is my whore then she will accept that as her new reality?”
“Exactly,” Helm answered. “You can mold her any way you want. It would be a most interesting experiment.”
Prinz smiled. It was almost too
perfect. The
great
Helm returned the smile and nodded his
agreement. “Zorra it is,”
he thought. He was looking forward
to the training. Prinz wasn’t
the only one who had plans for
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