Slaver's Bait: The Taking of Cheryl (15 page)

“There’s no rush, whore,” Uzoma said to her. “We have all night.”

After he had sensed that Cheryl’s tide of passion had receded, he began his teasing and caresses once more. Three more times, he led the panting, bound girl to the brink of satisfaction, only to draw her back again. Cheryl was desperate for release.

The African was enjoying his torment of Stoner’s white slut. His rigid manhood was lodged against her thigh. He whispered into Cheryl’s ear. “Do you want to come, slut?”

“Yes, please Master, please let me come,” Cheryl responded, her voice husky with passion. The cognac’s effects heightened the sensitivity of her breasts, made her cunt burn all the hotter.

“First you must tell me what you are, slut,” Uzoma instructed the writhing woman. “Tell me that you’re a whore.”

“Yes, master, yes, I’m a whore, please!”

“A cocksucking slut.”

“I’m a cocksucking slut!” Cheryl cried out desperately. Uzoma was stoking her passions while he interrogated her, twisting and turning her nipples with his fingers, pulling on them.

“I thought so, cunt,” he said. Once more his expansive mouth captured fully a third of Cheryl’s breast. She moaned loudly, arching her back. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried out, digging her heels into the mattress, pressing her thighs together. The contractions of her orgasm were like electrical shocks. She twisted and turned her torso while the African’s tongue and lips tormented one breast and a huge hand encircled and squeezed the other. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” the girl cried as throb after throb of pleasure passed through her.

When he felt her orgasm subsiding, Uzoma withdrew his lips. He placed his hand between the panting girl’s thighs and delved into the gushing slit. “You come like a Bantu too,” he said. “Now you’re nice and wet for my cock.”

The huge, muscular man moved between Cheryl’s legs and mounted her. His thick cock slid home easily. Slowly, deliberately, he stroked his manhood inside of her. Cheryl groaned and met his thrusts by rocking her hips. Twice she orgasmed as the African probed her loins in a mesmerizing rhythm. Cheryl felt him splash his seed into her hot canal, felt him stiffen, heard him moan. She expected for him to withdraw, to give her relief from the almost excruciating pleasure of the friction of his meat against the hard bud that lay at the top of her gushing slit. But the domineering man merely paused and then started his subtly rhythmic rocking again.

Uzoma’s bulk dwarfed Cheryl’s body, and his torso pressed hard against her chest. He slid his thighs up, pressing Cheryl’s out widely. He took her lips with his and filled her mouth with his meaty, insatiable tongue. Cheryl tried to fight the brute off, her pleasure now becoming exquisitely painful. Each stroke sent sharp bolts of passion through her.

Cheryl moaned and cried into the mouth that covered hers. Uzoma’s big, meaty hands were on either side of her head, holding it still. He tore his lips from hers and whispered in her ear, his breath coming in grunts, “What are you?”

“I’m a whore!” Cheryl yelled out, frantic to satisfy the iron rod that ploughed her.

“And what else?” Uzoma hissed.

“I’m a slut, a cocksucking slut! Oh, please, please, I can’t take it, please!” Cheryl replied screaming with passion.

Uzoma took Cheryl’s thighs in his arms and pressed them back against her chest. Angled above her, he began to thrust hard and long into her cunt. Cheryl’s pussy throbbed and pulsed, her nerve endings tortured to their endurance. As the black ruler’s cock jetted a stream of thick, white cum into her body, Cheryl cried out again and again as her final orgasm shook her.

When Uzoma was finished, he slipped his rod free and let Cheryl’s legs flop down in exhaustion. The big man stepped off of the bed and poured himself another cognac. He sipped it, watching the white woman fall into slumber. Her hands were still bound behind her and her back arched over her arms. Her breasts were puddles of flesh on her chest, raised slightly by her arching back. The black giant was not through with her yet, but he would let her rest. He went to the bathroom and peed. He returned to the room and called the kitchen on the room telephone. He ordered a snack.

Placing the receiver back into its cradle, he went to his suitcase. He pulled out a black box, about 8 inches by 6 inches long and wide. It was about three inches high. He placed it on the nightstand. He returned to the suitcase and removed two penis shaped plugs and two long sets of wires. He connected the wires to the unit and plugged the unit into the wall. A knock came on the door. “Come,” he called out. A tall black woman entered. She was dressed in a long multicolored, patterned kanga wrapped around her and covering her from the tops of her breasts to her ankles. She wore a scarf in her hair decorated with lavender orchids. She carried a tray of cheeses and meats.

“Put it down over there, lovely lady,” the President said in their common native tongue.

“Yes, Lord,” the woman said deferentially as she walked towards the long credenza against the wall. She passed closely to the naked President. She was used to such things in Stoner’s mansion. As she went to walk away, she felt the black man’s hand on her arm. “Don’t go, lady,” the President said to her. “Stay and let me see that beautiful body.”

The woman was slender, about 25 years old, and her shapely hips were not masked by her garment. Her skin was dark brown, her face slender, her features delicate. She had thick, puffed out lips. She froze when the fearsome man touched her. She knew better than to displease one of Stoner’s guests. She had known that there was a good possibility that he would make advances to her when she entered the room. She and the other women in the kitchen had drawn straws to see who would go. She had lost.

“Why do you hide your charms, lady?” Uzoma asked the woman. He picked at the edge of the garment where it was tucked in at her side and pulled it free. Standing up close to her, he was able to unwrap the garment from around her body using both his hands. The woman’s graceful, full breasts were unbound beneath the garment and they swung free. She wore a pair of plain white, cotton, bikini panties. It covered a thick, black bush. Uzoma pulled the underwear down over her hips and worked it free of her feet. The woman was trembling with apprehension. Stoner sometimes grabbed a serving girl to satisfy his physical needs, but not often, as he had the three white sluts for that. But all the women had heard of the fierce man from the capital. Uzoma’s reputation for cruelty was known all throughout the country and outside of it. And now she was faced with the evil man himself, naked, his erection forming between his legs.

Uzoma pressed his body against the native woman’s and grabbed the cheeks of her ass from behind. He pressed his lips to hers and scoured her mouth with his tongue. The woman’s arms rose in feeble protest. He pressed on the woman’s shoulders, forcing her to her knees. “Suck my cock, pretty lady,” he ordered.

The native woman took the hardened meat into her hands and directed it at her mouth. She engulfed its tip and slowly swirled her tongue along it. The President was uncircumcised, and she pulled back the sheath of flesh that covered the end of the cock and caressed it tenderly with her tongue. Uzoma allowed the woman to pleasure him for several minutes. A groan from Cheryl, awakening from her nap, caught his attention. He could get a blowjob from a native woman anytime he wanted. But a pretty white woman, those were in short supply.

The man pulled his hardened rod from the native woman’s mouth. “Thank you for the service,” he told her. “You may go.”

The woman nodded gratefully and rose to her feet. She went to pick up her coverings and Uzoma stopped her with his foot. “I think I’ll keep those,” he said.

The woman nodded fearfully and backed away towards the door. She felt for the handle behind her and, when she found it, rushed from the room. She would have to run through the house naked. This would amuse all of the other servants very much.

Uzoma turned his attention to Cheryl. There were several canes mounted on the wall and he took one down. He stepped over to the bed and slapped it forcefully across the front of Cheryl’s thighs. Cheryl jumped fully into wakefulness at the blow. She sat up and, seeing the cane in the mighty hand of the black giant, started to edge herself away from him in fear.

“On your knees, slut, face down on the mattress. Turn your butt to me.” Uzoma ordered. Cheryl obeyed swiftly. Her twin portals were presented to her abuser. She felt a long, cool, thick object being shoved into her still moist pussy. Uzoma thrust it in and out a few times, covering it with their commingled discharges, and then withdrew it. She felt the object plunged into her ass. It was not too thick and the lubrication made it slide right in. Another object of similar size was then thrust in her vagina.

The long thick plugs were connected by wires to the little box. The length of the plugs meant that it would be unlikely for them to fall free from the girl’s orifices. Uzoma pushed Cheryl to her stomach. He then took the loose ends of the thongs that he had used to tie her wrists to her elbows and, bringing each leg back one by one, tied off Cheryl’s ankles to her wrists. The pressure of her curved legs caused Cheryl’s back to arch painfully. Her cunt and pussy were both wide open and exposed, the plugs and wires extending out from them. Uzoma slid onto the bed and dragged Cheryl by the hair so that her mouth was over his cock. He had a ring gag in his hand and, pulling her head up, he shoved it home. Cheryl knew that ring gags were useful in throat fucking. Thanks to Stoner, she had a lot of experience there and was not concerned, even though the President’s cock was longer and thicker than Stoner’s. She did not know the purpose of the plugs in her rectum and in her pussy; she had not seen the wires or the little black box on the nightstand.

Uzoma had a small remote control in his hand. His legs were splayed wide open, his knees bent. He showed the remote to Cheryl.

“You see this cunt?” he taunted her. “This is connected to the box over there, which is connected to the dildos in your ass and cunt. If I press this button here, it will cause a little shock. Like that,” he showed her.

A pulse of electricity shot through Cheryl’s loins. It made her whole body contract. Her legs shuddered and pulled on her wrists in reaction to the muscle constricting flow of electricity through her, straining further her back and shoulders. She moaned in pain. When she recovered, her eyes were wide open, pleading with the cruel and callous man. He spoke to her again.

“I’m going to set this on automatic,” he said. “It will vary in intensity and duration, and alternate between your pussy and your ass.” Cheryl looked at him, her brow furrowed in fear.

“When you get me off, I will turn it off, but not before. Understand?”

Cheryl nodded desperately. She had felt only one jolt from the machine, but knew that it was capable of producing intense pain.

Uzoma pressed a button on the remote and watched for Cheryl’s reaction. Immediately, another pulse of electricity shot through her, this time through her anal passage. Her body cringed and she moaned. Cheryl realized that since the President had come three times within the last hour or so, it would be a difficult thing to get him off quickly under ideal circumstances. But without the use of her hands and with the painful emissions from the black box disturbing and interrupting her efforts, it would be very hard indeed.

Uzoma grabbed the back of Cheryl’s head by her hair to help guide her distended mouth to his cock. Just as the end of his cock passed the entrance another seizure overcame Cheryl. She winced and contracted in pain, but continued to her goal. This one had not been so bad. But the next one, a mere three or four seconds after, was the strongest she felt yet. She moaned pitifully. The black man grinned as he felt the vibrations of her moan course through his cock. That was the point, you see. That and the constriction of her throat each time she was jolted. It would produce a nice involuntary squeeze on his tool.

Desperate to end her ordeal, Cheryl tried to bob her head up and down on the black man’s large rod quickly. But Uzoma was in control. He grabbed her hair, immobilizing her head and said to her “Easy, cunt. Do a good job or I’ll thrash you.”

Cheryl groaned and her body contracted at each piercing jolt from the machine. She pressed her mouth down over the upright rod of flesh and pushed it into her throat. She tried to take long, slow, sensuous rides up and down the African’s shaft, but the interruptions of the electric shocks caused her to halt repeatedly and scream and moan onto Uzoma’s cock.

The girl’s throat felt delightful to the President when the already tight passage became narrower on each jolt. The vibrations that Cheryl’s involuntary protestations sent down his cock were marvelous. Like Jeremiah, Stoner’s major domo, Uzoma knew that the point of fucking was the pleasure of possession, not just to come. He took delight in the pitiful moans of his captive. He could do this all night.

But eventually, even he could no longer delay his moment of crisis. He felt his balls contract and his tool fill with fluid. “Ahhhh, slut,” he called to Cheryl, “here it comes!”

Hot sperm flooded Cheryl’s mouth. Even as her mind gratefully rejoiced in Uzoma’s discharge, another jolt of electricity passed through her, causing the flood of jism to pour out of her mouth as her constricted throat rejected it. The slime descended Uzoma’s staff and dribbled into his pubic hair.

Uzoma was just recovering from his moments of ecstasy when he noticed the white cream mixing with his curly black pubic hair.

“You’ve made a mess, cunt!” he yelled at her. He pulled his cock from her mouth and extracted the ring gag. “Clean that up, cunt!” he commanded her.

The jolts of electricity were still coming, as Cheryl endeavored to suck or lick all of the black man’s discharge from his pubic hair. She had to nuzzle her nose against his large belly to do so. Frustrated at her slowness, Uzoma just grabbed the back of her head and swiped his loins with Cheryl’s face. He then pushed her aside. To Cheryl’s great relief, he turned off the electric box.

Uzoma leaned back against the headboard, seemingly, at last, to have exhausted his forces. Looking down at the abject white woman, tears streaming down her face from her terrible abuse, he laughed. “White woman,” he told her, “someday soon Stoner will get tired of you and send you to the capital. I’ll rent you for a month and then you’ll see what pain really is.” He scrunched down on the bed so that his body was next to hers and turned her to her side, facing him.