It was her cunt that she saw being brutalized by the men’s kicks. And, most vividly of all , it was her open mouth into which she saw the grinning men pissing, their hot, foul tasting, yellow liquid filling her mouth as she desperately fought for breath. The image of dying in such a manner filled Cathy with absolute terror, a terror born as much of the ignominy of such a death as the pain it promised.
By this time, Cathy had begun to distinguish between the English speaking, obviously educated Arab and his crude, nameless hired thugs, the Poshtoons. After the anal gang rape she had experienced at the hands of the Poshtoons, the Arab’s story about their cruelty seemed to her to be quite believable.
The Arab had no trouble in planting in Cathy’s confused, fear filled mind the idea that they desired to torture her to death and that he was her only protector against them.
Overwhelmed by all the abuse she had experienced and desperate for some ray of hope, even his primitive ” Good cop/Bad cop” approach was effective. Cathy was frightened enough to grasp at his offer to be her protector, even when that offer came from her rapist.
She to herself that she had to submit to him, to serve him sexually, to save herself from what she was convinced would be a painful and degrading death at the hands of the Poshtoons. Anything, her survival instincts told her, was preferrable to death. Cathy bent her head and begged:
” Please don’t let them take me again! Please, Master!”
” I shall protect you Cathy. But only for as long as you are my slave.”
” I will be your slave, Master.
Just don‘t let them kill me like that.”
” Then you must show your Master your submission, slave.”
The Arab let go of his cock, allowing it to hang there almost touching her face. He used one hand to undo the belt to his pants and to push them and his thermal underwear down to his thighs, fully exposing his cock as well as exposing his heavy balls and thick pubic hairs to Cathy’s eyes for the first time.
She could only stare at his sex, it filling her field of vision as the hand in her hair gently urged her face forward, into his crotch. Cathy did not resist as he pushed her face into the wiry hairs surrounding his cock.
His unwashed odor of maleness filled her nostrils, overwhelming her.
” Beg me for the privilege of worshiping your Master’s cock, slave!”
Her face burning in humiliation and disgusted by her weakness, Cathy nevertheless managed to choke out the words the Arab wanted to hear.
” Master…… please.. let me …suck your cock.”
” Lick me, Cathy. Lick me, my slave.”
Obediently, or more accurately, devoid of a will of her own, Cathy did as he ordered.
Using the flat of her tongue, she licked the length of his cock as it hung before her before moving upward into the thick mat of dark hair surrounding its base. She licked him there, her salvia soaking his cock hairs, turning them into a dense wet mat, as their strong male taste over powered her taste buds . He gently pushed Cathy’s head lower, moving her tongue downward towards his full ball sack.
Again, Cathy used her tongue to caress him, licking his ball sack with the flat of her tongue, wetting the skin with her drool, and then using the tip to find and explore the balls with in that sack.
” Good, slave. Continue.”
Her salvia covering his ball sack felt cool to the man towering above her. He shivered as her tongue worked at finding and teasing first one then the other of his balls.
Despite his efforts to remain silent, a gasp escaped his lips as Cathy took his entire ball sack into her wide open mouth and held it there in the warmth of her mouth as she worked her tongue over the bottom of his ball sack. He was close to cumming now, too close. The Arab pulled her mouth away, letting his balls swing free again in the cold air of the room. He smiled as a soft “Oh” came from Cathy’s lips when his ball sack escaped her mouth.
Then he let go of her hair and turned away from Cathy, turned his back to present his naked buttocks to her.
” Continue.” He ordered, unsure of exactly what the American woman’s response would be. His treatment of Cathy was based on instinct guided as well by his cultural prejudices.
He was ignorant of the psychology of captivity, specifically the tendency of captives to identify with and strive to please their captors, what psychologists termed the Stockholm Syndrome, The Arab did not understand exactly why Cathy’s initially spirited resistance had changed into resigned submission. But he did understand that a strong hand and harsh punishments were the way to control a woman. And he was eager to test the extent of Cathy’s new submission.
He could think of no more degrading act than what he was now ordering her to perform. This would be a true test of her submission. There was a brief hesitation as Cathy struggled to come to grips with his demand. Then submission. Cathy leaned forward slightly and begun to lick his unwashed buttocks. She ran the flat of her tongue over each of his hard buttocks in turn, leaving each shiny from her spit, as the man’s ass cheeks clinched tightly in response to the soft touch of her tongue.
That accomplished, Cathy could not longer delay. She closed her eyes while doing her best to similarly shut her mind to what she was about to . Bracing herself, she pressed her full lips against his ass hole, the unwashed smell overpowering her senses. Cathy quickly licked his ass hole, intimately caressing him with the flat of her tongue. That done, she sat back on her heels and silently waited , desperately hoping the man would find that one lick to be enough. Only his silence followed.
Sensing his impatience, driven by her need to please the man who held her life in his hands, Cathy sighed and leaned forward. She began to work the flat of her tongue on his asshole, licking the wrinkled star of his asshole again and again, even thrusting against it with the tip of her pink tongue, the tip briefly penetrating into the filthy depths.
It seemed an eternity of humiliation to Cathy before the man finally said “enough” and turned back towards her, returning his cock to her lips.
Eagerly Cathy accepted his cock back into her mouth, relieved to be allowed the less humiliating task of sucking the dark man’s cock rather than his ass hole. She opened her mouth and took his erect cock deep into her warm mouth. Once again, she began to use her tongue and teeth to service his cock, desperate to please her ……… captor…
Master ……rapist… protector?? Cathy was no longer sure what their relationship was. The black and white she had expected of a prisoner of war experience had been shattered into a whole spectrum of strange colors. She only knew that she had to obey him, had to please him. So she applied every oral skill she knew, every trick, to that end.
The feeling of Cathy’s tongue pressing into his ass hole had sent a jolt of electricity through the Arab.
As erotic as the soft touch of her tongue against his anus was, it was the total submission of his female captive through this debasing act which threatened to push him over the top. He could barely keep his cock from shooting before he had reentered her soft mouth. But once safely inside her mouth, her slavish worship of his cock was no longer enough. Instead he had to take her, to show her the power he held over her.