Slave Hunters, Slave Preys Ch. 04

'I must be crazy,' she thought. ('Crazy? You are way past the entrance point to madness and into the screaming darkness of The Gods of Unnamable Cums.')

The ritual skull fucking of the kneeling girl went on for a long time. In "OOO" periods, the waits, she clung to him like a rag doll pulled off the ground entirely, her bound arms rising and falling in a mute call for un-forthcoming help.

Suddenly he screamed on the inward swing. The hawk on the slave's shoulder echoed it.

Men started intoning high 'III' chant. Slaves went into a fast "Akhbar wooha a wooh" litany. Seizuring, Sheik pumped his first load of royal jism in her throat. Then he pulled out. The cock fired massive, sticky, globules of cum on the wet fuck-surface. Once it was a face. Soon it will be face again. but not now. It was red, puffed and welted. Most of his cum dripped off the delirious 'Catholic Girls' head.

After jerking for a long time he collapsed, spent. She also collapsed in a trembling, sobbing heap. The sobs sounded strange. The ring gag was still there.

The 'III' chanting stopped. Smoke columns could rest from their frenzied belly dancing. As the aromatic wood dwindled to smoldering cinders, attendants poured sacks of charcoal on braziers.

It was a typical 'Masque of Red Death' moment. It held. Then nervous snippets of conversation bubbled again in the crowd, disturbing the eternal now of this hypnotic moment.

Another kind of ceremony was about to begin. In a festive mood once again, the guests clinked ice in their glasses merrily. Nikita wished she could faint. Her manacled limbs and the sweating twin bodies pressing on her, affirmed that she could not.

Instead, she blinked.

** ** **

Later, Sophia awakened in a bare, metal cell. A strange dream, a cross between her wet dreams and something from her childhood, was swirling in her head. Then, the searing throbbing in her face, bruised lips and swollen tongue hit her. THEN, she felt the ruined, wet blouse sticking to her torso, saw the wrinkled navy blue skirt and the rolled down stockings.

Bile rose in her throat. She curled into the fetal ball and tried to stop the shivering coming from the abyss that engulfed her.

When one of faceless bullies entered she was staring at the black and white saddle shoes carelessly thrown in the corner. He just looked at the girl in the ruined uniform as she lay on the cot. The contrast of the curled woman/girl and this pantalooned giant was staggering. But it was perfectly appropriate. After all, this IS the Kink Plane.

THEN ...

** ** **

Sandwich Toasted, Sandwich Burnt

An eye blink later Nikita opened her eyes. The room, (or what she could see of it) swam back in focus. The crowd, warmed by the fookka-fikka skull fuck, gathered in a wide circle around the platform. She thought she saw Lara Croft on the arm of Freddie M - and wished the focus would just go away.

THE Wolf was bare chested and a long plaited whip trailed from his hand. He flicked his wrist and the mean black snake jumped up and cracked hungrily. She wondered for the first time, 'Why am I sandwiched? There must be more to it then just the symbol. Maybe it is because he knows I cannot take it?'

She tried to shake her head. It was too tightly wedged between two hard-breathing sluts.

The Wolf paced testily and impatiently. He whisked the oiled whip.

"Are we going to toast this Sandwich or WHAT!?"

"We sure are - toast it and burn it!" yelled Sheik Generic as he made his entrance.

He had changed into leather pants. Two wide leather bands crisscrossing across his chest were held with a heavy steel hoop. A large hoop in his ear matched it.

"Damn pirate!" roared the Wolf. Sheik cracked HIS whip in appreciation. Carleen whimpered right in Nikita's ear. Generic smiled.

"Nice appetizer! IT'S a BURN TIME!'

As they started circling in one direction, the platform rotated in the opposite direction. The men orbited the stacked sluts in the chain web. The scene mimicked some diabolical, mechanical planetarium. Swaying red illuminations pushed the shadows away from the platform.

Nikita could not see much of stalkers. But, she heard and felt another web closing on them - a web made of pain-snakes swishing and waving and cracking inches from their skin.

She got a glimpse of the Wolf's torso. As his sleek muscles suddenly tightened, his arm jerked down.

Goaded by a doubled cracccckkk, the twins arched inwards. Nikita felt toothpasted out of her corset, suspended in the breathless moment of blistering silence. Then, the twins screamed in unison and shook her insides, simultaneously drenching her with sweat.

The whipsters continued their attacks, circling like lions with a view to a kill. The cracks sometimes merged into fiery kisses. Sometimes, they sounded like short, staccatoed probes, writing in red on the two-backed beast.

The circling Dance of Two Whip Shots and Three Slut Targets went on. The whip masters plied their unerring trade on the aerial trio. The incessant whipping goaded the three headed animal into new heights of howling ecstasy.

"Two hundred seventy three, two hundred seventy four - DOUBLESTRIKE!, two hundred seventy six..." The crowd chanted louder and louder, their voracious voices crashing on the whipped slave girls like a pneumatic tsunami. Riding the wave were whip cracks and the shiatsu's excited yelping.

Nikita felt it all, the pain, the heat and the noise. The bodies of Cat and Carleen did not absorb the whip blows. The impacts were transferred into her body. She FELT each scalding whip-blow. She was drowning in the boiling well of the body-heat, screaming breaths and intermingled body fluids. Nikita could taste mixed pussy juices in the sweat and saliva invading her screaming mouth.

She held on to one thought. She experienced everything except the actual kiss of the whip. The Wolf denied her that. It was his gift. Nikita let go of the thought and came. She dervished within the press of two pain sluts, triggering their orgasms. Wave upon wave of pain-cums was extracted by the pain ministers.

The bodies were confessing to high priests of the pain alchemy.

The Wolf and Generic were also sweating profusely. The Wolf made one last circle, looking for yet another place to inscribe the red line. Offered backs, asses, and thighs were intricately crises-crossed with whip marks.

As he flung the whip away, Fido ran after the dripping, twisting morsel. He knew that smell!

"The slut sandwich is toasted and burnt. LET THEM DOWN! THIS GAME IS OVER. NEXT!" The Wolf declared. He whirled and a grabbed champagne bottle from the nearest guest.

Sheik Generic made another swing but the Wolf moved cobra-like and grabbed his hand.

"It is OVER I said!"

Generic actually pouted. He stopped but did not forget The Wolf's intrusion. He will not let the sluts forget it, either.

Wolf jumped on the platform and pressed the remote. The whole web started gliding down on the poles. As soon as he could, he began checking the eyes and bodies of the whipped. They were sailing the oceans of sub-space with full sails. The Wolf takes care of his property.

The inner voices that haunted him were silent... for the time being. It was a short time.

HE looks at you, straight at you, smiles, and then he wags his finger, "Do not try this at home, kids! Unless you have willing slut flesh and lots of practice!"

Acknowledgments:

Uniforms and incidental clothing: Gautier

Leatherwear Hugo Boss of Mexico

Camel wear: Galliano

Wolf attire: Good Grooming of Hong Kong ('any label you want!')

Nikita attire: Chicgeneric Designs

Makeup: Pat McGrath for Avon Slut-of-The-Day Line

Kinkplane and Transportation: Generic Enterprises "We will get you there...willing or not!"

Toys: La Bomba

Whips: The Camel (For each one there is one less camel in the world!)

Special 'sheik' effects: Kinky Laurence at the Black Lodge

Special consultant for dream sequences: David Lynch

Seven legged goat conjured by Necronomicon Resources (Protection from beings from beyond provided by White. 'I do not believe any of this SHIT!' Lodge)

Fluids: Nasty Nik's Never-ending Excessive Pipewerks

Catholic girls provided by The Dogma "We fix them and they stay fixed!"

Fido trained by Naughty Nik

Music Angelo Badalementi and Lou Reed