Slave of the Amazons

It was a freezing cold Monday afternoon just after Christmas when they caught me. It had been snowing non-stop for three days and the East Village was almost deserted. I didn’t see a thing. One minute I was scurrying home through the blizzard to my wife and kids, the next I had a gun in my ribs and there was a strange, muffled voice telling me to get into the white van that was parked nearby. Terrified, I clambered in and a small, wiry figure in a black balaclava and black bodysuit sprayed something into my face. That was the last thing I remembered for a long time.

When I woke up I was a prisoner. They’d taken my thick overcoat but I was still wearing the same dark, pinstripe suit that I always wore to the office. My hands were cuffed behind my back, I was wearing a blindfold and my head was incredibly sore. It was hot. There was a primitive fan revolving slowly above my head and I could hear insects buzzing and clicking all around me. God knows where I was but it certainly wasn’t New York.

“This one’s awake,” the voice was harsh but feminine. “What shall we do with him?”

“Take him to Shakra,” another, deeper, but equally feminine voice demanded, “she’ll decide whether we should keep him or not.”

They hauled me to my feet and pushed me out into the open air where I could feel a hot sun blazing down on me. The blindfold was suddenly ripped away and I blinked in near terror at the sudden burst of light. When my eyes finally became adjusted I could see that I was in some kind of rough village made up of dozens of large, wooden huts. My captors were all women, dressed in skimpy, animal-skin loin-cloths, with a thin strip of cloth tied over their breasts. They had smooth, cocoa coloured skin and almost oriental features.

Two of them grabbed me by each elbow and dragged me along a wide path through the huts, my Patrick Cox loafers kicking up dust as we went. At the doorway of the largest hut one of them rapped her knuckles against the frame.

“Enter,” came a voice.

They pushed me inside so roughly that I fell to my knees in front of the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. She wore knee high, sand coloured boots and a kind of mini-skirt made of hundreds of tiny fronds of dark leather. Her large, perfect breasts were half-covered by an ornate, golden piece of jewellery that just barely cupped them, lifting them upwards and forwards. Her hair was cut in a rough sexy bob that framed her high-cheek-boned, oriental face and she looked at me so dismissively that I felt like a worm.

“Strip them before you bring them to me in future,” she ordered in a husky, lazy tone. “You know I can’t bear these ridiculous ‘suits’ they wear.”

“Yes, Shakra,” my two escorts breathed. They quickly pulled me to my feet before tearing off my jacket, tie and shirt. Shakra then came closer and ran bright scarlet, inch long finger nails over my chest, “not exactly a strong man, is he?” she commented. “He won’t last a week in the mines.”

At this they pulled off my shoes and socks, flinging them out of the hut and then pulled down my trousers so that I was standing in front of the magnificent woman in just my white Calvin Kleins. “We thought you might have other uses for him,” one of the women said, trembling. Shakra snorted and then pulled my Calvins down to my knees before arching one, dismissive, eyebrow.

“Often they’re much bigger when they’re hard,” said the second woman timidly.

I felt totally humiliated. “What is this?” I pleaded. “Where am I?” Without even looking at me Shakra slapped me hard in the face.

“Get down on your knees boy,” she ordered.

“I’m a man,” I replied angrily. “I’m a citizen of the United States of America and. . .”

The two guards forced me to my knees and stripped me completely naked by roughly tearing my underpants off my legs and throwing them outside with the rest of my clothes. “Make yourself hard,” ordered Shakra.

“What, I. . .”

She slapped me again and, with tears of shame and humiliation welling up in my eyes I began fondling myself but nothing happened. “Rebka, Use the slambok on him,” ordered Shakra.

Rebka pulled me to my feet again and took a whip out from her belt. I heard it before I felt it, a whistling sound and then it cracked against my buttocks. It was agony. “Please, no,” I begged.

“Give him five,” said Shakra.

“I can’t take five. . .aghh!” she hit me again and I crumpled to my knees once more. “Please Shakra I’ll do anything you want. Look!” I began stroking my cock, willing it to rise, staring at Shakra’s breasts.

“Ha!” Shakra laughed for the first time. “I remember when Earth men would die rather than let any woman humiliate them! See how weak they’ve got. How many more hits Rebka?”

“Three,” she replied and raised the whip again.

“Please, no, I beg you,” I cried, my buttocks smarting in agony. I couldn’t take another hit. My cock slowly started to rise.

“Alright,” nodded Shakra, “let’s see how big he is.” The three women grinned as I stroked myself, naked and on my knees in front of them. When my cock was fully erect Shakra slipped her right foot out of her boot and gripped my stem between her big toe and second toe. “Look,” she taunted. “He’s so small I can masturbate him with my foot, get your hands off your little prick, boy!” One of the guards held my hands behind my back and I could only watch, humiliated, as Shakra abruptly, expertly jerked me off. Her feet were small and pretty, with nails painted the same bright scarlet as her fingernails. To begin with I was terrified that I’d lose my erection and she’d have me whipped again. But as I stared at Shakra’s perfect, olive coloured skin and sumptuous curves, pleasure took over and I began to pant like a dog.

Then, as she jerked her foot, I realised I could see far up her silky thighs. As orgasm got closer I craned forward, trying to see her pussy but it was just hidden. Then suddenly I came, splattering the floor, Shakra’s feet and all the way up her smooth legs. “Dirty boy,” she teased. “Lick it off,”

“What?” I gasped.

Shakra nodded to Rebka and I felt the whip crash agonisingly into my buttocks again. “No! Sorry! Sorry!” I begged and knelt forward. I’d never tasted my own cum before. Shakra made me lick every inch of her feet clean, slurping up my own salty white strings of cum. I was doubled over with my belly crushed against my legs and I’d never felt so humiliated in my life. She grabbed me by my thinning hair and pulled my head up her legs, making me lick where ever she demanded. I realised we were getting further and further up her thighs and, to my astonishment, my cock started to twitch again but, just as her mini-skirt was tickling my face she flung me back on to the floor.

“I like him,” she pronounced. “He’s pretty and he’s incredibly submissive.” I shut my eyes in humiliation. I wasn’t submissive. At home with my wife I was always the boss and I ran a company of over three hundred people. Surely any man would have behaved as I had? I didn’t have any choice. “If he can get his cock up again, I might keep him,” Shakra continued. “Tanya,” she ordered. “See if you can fuck him.”

I could see that Tanya was a little embarrassed by this demand. Nevertheless she walked towards me, her hips swinging in a way that was as threatening as it was sexy. Then she took off her fur bra and flung it casually down on to the reed-strewn, dusty floor before wriggling out of her tatty loin cloth. She had slim hips and high, pert breasts. Her pussy was hidden by a dark mound of hair. She pushed me on to my back pinning my arms above my head and then began roughly kissing me, her bee-stung lips crushing mine, her tongue exploring my mouth. Instantly I began getting hard again. Then she slid further up my body and brushed her nipples teasingly against her mouth.

“Suck her!” ordered Shakra. I stuck out my tongue and flicked it against her hard nipples and the smooth, olive skin around them before taking as much of her breasts as I could into my mouth. Then, abruptly, Tanya raised her lithe hips above my crotch. Her knees were on either side of my waist and she waited a moment, putting a slim hand in between her legs, grabbing my hard cock and positioning it correctly before slamming hard down on top of me.

I gasped. She was hot and wet and my penis throbbed inside her as, slowly to start with, she began sliding herself up and down. I realised that I was panting but couldn’t stop myself. Her head fell forward and her long, dark hair fell over my face as her tits began to jiggle more quickly with every teasing, ecstatic stroke. “Make him moan,” ordered Shakra. Tanya’s fingernails were digging harder and harder into the palm of my hands as she continued to hold them down above my head. I realised she was getting turned on now too.

She was smiling, almost triumphantly down at me as she bounced upon my cock. Her lips were slightly parted showing white teeth and her oriental eyes met mine challengingly. I tried to pretend that I was in control of my feelings but I couldn’t help myself. “Oh God,” I gasped suddenly as her pussy slid the length of my cock, just letting it slip out before enveloping it again.

“You like to fuck boy?” asked Tanya, who must have been no more than twenty, a good twelve years younger than me. I couldn’t speak. I was just panting.

“Answer her,” whispered Shakra.

“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. Then, suddenly Tanya raised her hips and paused with her pussy just hovering above my engorged cock.

“Beg me to carry on,” she ordered. Crazed with lust I tried to grab her slim arms and roll her on to her back - as though if I were on top I would be on control. But she was too strong. “Beg,” she insisted. “Tell me what a worm you are and how magnificent I am and maybe I’ll finish you off.”

“Oh God,” I said, my cock throbbing with frustration. “Please Tanya, finish me, I’m yours I’m a worm. You’re beautiful, magnificent. Please take my cock in your pussy again.” At this she sat down on me with such force that if she’d missed she’d have broken me in half. As it was I gasped, my penis thrusting up into her hot, pink wetness. She fucked me, five hard strokes more, then I came, squealing, crying out like I never had before. Tanya wrapped her arms around me almost lovingly and buried my head in her breasts as I wept.

“He’ll do,” said Shakra, with the sound of raw triumph in her voice.