Saturday, July 31, 2004

 

Asian China Doll Porn Star Sex story

STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE
by Zebulon

This is a work of fiction. No reference to real persons is
intended. It contains strong, non-traditional sexual imagery
and language. If you don't like this kind of thing, don't read it.

This story may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.

Feedback is welcome. Zebulonfastmail.ca

(Transition - not much sex)

Start of Part 9

The flight from the Caribbean to the headquarters of the
Mart was uneventful. After being rolled off stage, Staci had
been pushed into a corner. They had removed the chain
around her neck but left her hanging until the auction was well
over. They got to her when it was time to disassemble and
pack the frame in which she had been bound.

"What shall we do with her, Mistress Ruby?" one of the
staff slaves had asked.

"She's leaving with Number One. In fact, you'd better
hurry with her. I'm sure One will want to get started soon.
Pack her into a containment box and sedate her for the trip."
She took a second look at the limp figure. "And see to her
injuries. We want to be sure she arrives in one piece. After
that I could care less."

Staci was unconscious when they took her down and laid
her on the floor. A girl came over with a medical kit and
worked on her limp body. The damage was almost entirely
superficial. Bruises around the breasts and crotch, lash
marks, scratches, abrasions around the wrists and ankles.
Her face seemed drawn and worried, but the blood was
flowing back. She began to move slightly and twitch. The
girl removed the rubber ball and checked her mouth for
damage. Staci make little moaning noises.

The girl rolled her over and saw to her back side. She
inspected her anus to check for damage. There didn't seem
to be any. Staci had been well lubricated.

Staci opened her eyes just as the girl was finishing. She
tried to move, but everything ached so much she just lay
still. She lay on her belly and watched the final disassembly
of the terrible frame on which she had been hung. It wasn't
until the girl got up and took one last look that she realized
that Staci's eyes were open. She rolled her over on her
back again. Staci winced and groaned, but didn't otherwise
move or protest.

A man came up pushing what looked like a long silver
coffin on wheels. Together they lifted and set her inside. It
was lined with some thick soft material. It felt good against
her skin. The woman cuffed her ankles together and
hooked the cuffs to a short strap set in the base of the
coffin. She came around and pulled Staci's arms up over
her head, cuffed them, and linked the cuffs to the top of the
coffin. She felt a pinprick inside her elbow. The man was
injecting her with something. She tried to feebly protest
when the girl popped a fresh gag back into her mouth. Staci
gave up. She was too tired and sore to fight.
Consciousness soon left her again. She was already asleep
when the coffin was sealed and loaded onto a waiting truck.



Staci awoke in a cage. She was still naked but
unfettered. She was lying on her back on a rubber mat. Her
first sight as she opened her eyes was the thick wire mesh
framework of the roof of her cage. Her whole body was
sore.

Moving slowly and carefully she sat up and looked
around.

She couldn't see much. What she did see looked like a
cross between a prison and a kennel. She was in a large
steel cage, eight feet square and seven feet high. There
seemed to be a number of cages in a row. The cages were
surrounded by stone walls. Each cell had a large square
rubber mat which just about covered the concrete floor.
The roof above the cages was sharply slanted. She seemed
to be in more of a porch than a building. One side was
completely open letting in fresh air and dim sunlight. It was
either early morning or late evening. She stood up. Even
with the openness of the wire mesh, the low ceiling made
her feel claustrophobic. Everything was dull brown and
ugly grey.

Staci tried to inspect her body to see how badly she had
been injured, but the light was poor. She was covered with
ugly welts and felt incredibly stiff. Everything hurt, but she
didn't seem to have suffered any serious injuries. The
memories of the auction came flooding back and she started
trembling violently. She sat back down and cried for a long
time.

When she looked up again it was almost dark. Lights
suddenly came on. Staci stood and took a better look at her
new world. There were six cages. Or rather, there was one
long cage divided into six cubicles by five walls. The walls
of the cages were of thin steel, cross hatched for extra
strength. There was enough room to completely fit her arm
through the spaces between the bars, but there would be no
breaking out. She couldn't hope to budge the bars without
tools. The cages filled up most of a trench-like area defined
by the stone walls. There was a wide walkway which ran
along the front of cages. There was a heavy wooden door
in the stone wall at one end of the walk. The steel walls of
her cage were sunk into the concrete floor. The walls and
ceiling of the cells were set into the stone wall opposite the
walkway. There was no way out of the cage except for the
locked door. Staci was in the last cell back from the
entrance. There was a pile of old blankets in the first cage
at the other end. Otherwise they all seemed to be empty.

The door opened. And old man walked in carrying a
couple of small baskets. He shut the door behind him. It
closed with a definitive click. The pile of blankets in the
first cage moved. Another naked girl crawled out and came
up to the door of her cage. The man opened the door and
handed her a basket. She took it, picking up an empty one
which Staci hadn't noticed and giving it back to him. She
glanced briefly at Staci but showed no interest. Turning her
back, the girl sat and opened her basket. The old man
headed toward Staci's cell. She came up to the door to
meet him.

The old man stopped at her cage and stared at her for a
long moment. "You speak English, Ja? he asked in a quiet
weathered voice."

Staci nodded.

He pointed back at the door through which he had
entered. "Is locked, Ja?"

Staci nodded again.

He pointed up at the ceiling. "Is cameras, there, und
there, und there. You understand?"

"Yes, I see."

"You no make trouble, or other men come and make for
you lots of pain, Ja?"

"I understand. I won't make trouble."

The old man smiled at her and opened the door. He
handed her a basket. She took it. She expected him to
close the door immediately and leave. Instead he seemed to
be waiting for her to look up again. She did. He pointed at
the floor behind her. There was a large hole in the corner of
her cell. "Is toilet, Ja?"

"OK."

He pointed up at the stone wall above the hole. There
was s spigot set into the wall with a small hose coiled
around it. "Is for cleaning, Ja? For cleaning hole; for
cleaning you, Ja? And for drinking, Ja?"

"Ja," Staci said.

"You want blanket?" he asked.

"Yes, please."

Without bothering to lock the door he walked away. He
opened a closet she hadn't noticed, fumbled around a bit.
He brought back two blankets and a bar of soap.

"Thank you," she said.

He smiled and left, locking her cage door behind him.

Staci laid the blankets on the floor and sat. The girl in
cage one was still ignoring her. She opened the basket and
found food. She was ravenously hungry. It surprised her
that the food was excellent. As she ate the lights went out.
She finished her meal by reflected starlight and heard the
sounds of the other girl using the toilet. She heard running
water. Then silence.

Staci got up and stepped carefully over to her own toilet.
It wasn't much, but she needed it badly. She squatted down
and relieved herself. There was no toilet paper. Only the
hose and the soap. She used them. The water was cool,
but the room was warm. Heat was being pumped in from
somewhere. At least she wouldn't freeze to death. She
went ahead and took a full shower of sorts. The floor was
slightly canted and the water drained into the hole. She
used one of the blankets to dry herself. She assumed she
would be interrogated in the morning. There was nothing
she could do about that. She wasn't tired but lay down to
sleep anyway. Instead she spent a fitful night trying not to
think about the future.



In the morning the old man brought her breakfast and
the girl in cage one continued to pretend she didn't exist.
Staci spent a stressful day waiting for someone to come for
her. She tried to communicate with the girl in the first cage.
She had no luck. She tried wearing one of the blankets to
cover her nakedness. It was terribly uncomfortable. The
old man laughed when he brought lunch. She spent a
boring afternoon pacing and sweating. The old man
brought dinner. At least the food was still good.

In the morning the girl in the first cage was gone. The
old man brought breakfast and then carefully cleaned out
the empty cage. And still no one had come for her.

Two days later, Staci had given up trying to cover
herself with the blanked and there was another girl in the
first cell. Staci saw her led in. She was fully clothed. In
fact, she was dressed rather elegantly in conservative
business attire. Her arms were cuffed behind her. She
looked disconsolate and was afraid to make eye contact
with Staci. A few hours later she was led away.

After a week of this Staci was sure that no one was
going to come get her. Ms. Turner certainly wasn't coming
to the rescue. And her captors seemed to have no interest
in anything but keeping her captive.

Several girls came and went. They were always put in
cage one or two. They stayed for anywhere from a couple
of hours to a couple of days. During the third week, a large
evil looking Doberman was brought in and put in the first
cage. It barked and snarled at Staci for a long time until he
finally settled down and just glowered. Two days later the
dog was gone.

During the fifth week her little prison was suddenly
crowded. There was a girl in every cage with two girls in
cages one and three. They were oriental girls and none of
them spoke English. A doctor came and gave each girl,
including Staci, a physical examination. A dentist came and
checked and cleaned their teeth. Soon after, hard looking
men and women came to look at the girls. They reminded
Staci of Mistress Rayna and Mistress Synklair. The girls
started to disappear one or two at a time. In just over a
week they were all gone.

One day, the old man brought a medium sized poodle.
The dog seemed very friendly. He started to put it in cage
one and then looked over at Staci. She smiled and nodded
hoping he might cage it next to her. He did. She spent a
couple of relatively happy days, talking to the dog and
petting it through the steel bars. Then the dog was gone
and the monotony went on.



Staci spent most of her time lying around and feeling
sorry for herself. She thought a lot about God. She had
never been very religious, but had been brought up to
believe that everything that happens is somehow for the
best. 'God never gives you anything you can't handle,' her
mother used to say time and time again. 'But why is God
giving me this?' she wondered. 'What did I do to deserve it?
How much of this does he think I can handle?' She kept
looking for reasons and couldn't find any.



By the end of three months, Staci looked like hell. Her
hair was ratty. She was developing a small pot belly. She
was depressed beyond words. The old man came in one
morning and frowned at her for a long time. He left only to
return a short time later with a bright metal suitcase. He put
it outside her cell against the far wall before leaving
breakfast. 'What the hell is that for,' she wondered. She
spent a fitful morning worrying about it until she looked
beyond the case and saw her reflection in the shiny metal.
She wanted to cry. The old man took the suitcase away at
lunch time.

That afternoon, Staci did some simple stretching and
light exercise for the first time since the day of the auction.
Then she had a long shower doing the best she could with
her hair. The physical activity and self grooming left her
feeling better. When the old man brought dinner he smiled
which made her feel even better still.

Next morning she found a comb and a tube of shampoo
in the basket with her breakfast. After that the old man
would bring her other toiletry items from time to time.



Within a few months, Staci was back in good physical
condition. However, she was ready to go out of her mind
with the monotony and isolation. The mysterious visitor
changed that.

On several occasions a strange man or woman would
show up and be given a tour of her little world. Most of
these tours were in languages other than English. But from
the few conversations she could understand, Staci figured
out that she was in a temporary holding cell. Apparently,
she decided, they didn't quite know what to do with her and
were just keeping her there.

The stranger was one of VIP's being given the tour. He
seemed different from the others who had come before him
--less hard, but somehow more dangerous.

Staci didn't know what language they were speaking. It
didn't sound like French, but the guide called him Duval.
He was given his tour in the morning. And then something
very unusual happened. He came back. He came back with
the old man at lunch time and stood for a long while looking
at her through the cage door. He was just her height and
quite thin. There was something about him which made
Staci think he might be a spy. Not a spy who was come to
set her free. Just a spy. He said something which she didn't
understand. She shrugged her shoulders and answered in
English. He shrugged back at her and smiled. She returned
his smile.

He stepped up to the door of her cell and motioned for
her to do the same. Staci had long since lost her
awkwardness and feelings of modesty at being naked. She
wasn't sure if she were supposed to obey the stranger, but
wanted to avoid trouble. Besides he was being more
friendly with her than anyone else except perhaps the old
man. She came up to him. He looked at her for a little
while and then reached into her cell to touch her face.

Staci held her ground. She liked the feel of his hand on
her cheek. It was warm and somehow comforting. He was
gentle. She hadn't felt a kind human touch in a long time.
He stroked her cheek a couple of times and then ran his
hand down the side of her neck. She still didn't move. The
hand withdrew and moved down past one of the horizontal
bars. It came back at breast level and moved slowly toward
her right breast. Staci bit her lip and made a quick decision.
She let him touch her. She felt his fingers on her nipple.
The hand opened and cupped her breast. There was no
freakish sensations of pleasure or pain, just the warm
comforting feeling of the man's hand.

And just as suddenly as he had appeared, the stranger
left.

Staci sighed and turned back to her lunch.

That evening, shortly after dinner, a short, evil looking
woman came to her. The woman reminded Staci of the
Mistresses at the auction. Staci jumped up and moved to
the back of her cell.

The woman eyed her coldly. "It seems Herr Duval has
taken a fancy to you," she said in excellent but heavily
accented English. You are to be cleaned up and made
presentable for him." The woman looked piercingly at her
and shook her head. "Why he wants a totally untrained
piece like you when he could have the choice of my best is
beyond me. However, that is his wish and that is how it will
be." She looked into Staci's eyes and said, "Do you
understand what I'm telling you?"

"Not exactly, . . . Mistress." Staci wasn't sure if this was
a "Mistress" like those at the auction, but thought it best to
assume she was.

"You will come with me," the woman said crisply. "You
will be cleaned and perfumed. You will go to Herr Duval's
room when he is ready for you. And you will do your very
best to satisfy him. Is that clear enough?"

"Yes, Mistress." Staci wasn't sure how she felt about
that. But seeing as she obviously had no choice. . . .

End of Part 9

STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE
by Zebulon

This story may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.

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