"What are you talking about?" she said, turning away. But he grabbed her arm and spun her back. "Perhaps you don't quite understand your position, Carla. You're mine, now."

She tried to push away. "Well, of course I am. We said our vows and everything. But don't act like some sort of caveman." To her utter shock, he slapped her across the face, which stunned her into silence.

"Let's be very clear, Carla. I consider you to be mine in the sense that you are my property. I more or less bought you from your dear father in settlement of some significant debt, and in consideration for future business arrangements. I am not the sort of man who lets a woman disobey him or do anything except what I say she will do. When I say "own" ... I mean it. I believe wives have specific functions, which you will carry out to my standards or face unpleasant consquences."

Carla had been too stunned to reply, but now her anger was at full boil. "Let me go, you son of a bitch. LIke hell I'm your property. I'm on the next plane home tomorrow, and I'll get an annulment. Fuck you!"

He slapped her again and then pushed her up against the wall. "So that's how you want to play it, fine." He pushed her face down on the bed, and quickly tied something around her wrists. "I'll scream!" she threatened.

"Fine," he chuckled. "No one here will care. This resort caters to men like me. The women here have no say in anything. "And," he added, "we will be staying here for quite a while, several weeks, perhaps longer, depending on your learning curve." He pulled her off the bed and sat her in a chair, then took a couple of ropes out of a drawer and tied her ankles to the chair legs, with her thighs spread open. He pulled a chair up to face her and sat down. Reaching out, he yanked open the front of her sexy honeymoon neglige. "These are the facts of life, Carla, of your life, anyway... from now on. I could have had you without marrying you, but social mores being what they are, it's wise to have a wife. You will be an asset in more ways than one. So let me give you a brief, shall we say, job description. If I choose to father children, you will be the brood mare, so to speak. Unless and until I do decide, your primary responsibility is to service me, anytime, anywhere, however I choose." He patted the front of his trousers. "Keeping your husband happy is what you will live for. And that means you worship this cock, and you obey my orders no matter what they are."

Carla started to speak, to protest, but he raised his hand and she closed her mouth. "Secondly," he reached between her legs and parted her pussy lips, "this nice little fuckhole, and your ass, and your mouth," are for servicing cock, mine and anyone else's I allow to have use of you. These nice tits... mine, too." He got up and poured himself a drink. "Don't think for a moment that this is some sort of partnership. Some men may want that. I don't. To me, a woman is basically a bitch, a breeder, a fucktoy. I think that's what they are made for. That's why they've got a pussy, and ass, and a mouth, because a cock fits nicely in them. And we're going to stay here until you fully understand that. I know I will enjoy your training, I don't really are if you do or not. Your pleasure is of no importance to me. However, with proper conditioning, I daresay you will become a very willing and eager slut, since all bitches are basically slaves to their orgasms. Kind of like Pavlov's dogs... eventually just the sight of cock will have you panting and spreading your legs and wagging your ass."

Carla was about to faint from shock. She couldn't find any words. This was all some sort of bizarre nightmare form which she would wake up. He was acting as if she was going to be some sort of sick sex slave. Like hell, she thought. As if reading her mind, he chuckled. "Oh, you'll learn. And the first lesson is right now." Jeffrey was tall, and standing beside the chair, his crotch was easily even with her face. He unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and forcibly turned her face toward it. He rubbed it all over her face, letting it get harder and harder as she tried to squirm away. Once his pole had stiffened sufficiently, he reached into the drawer again and pulled out a leather strap with a ring in it. "I can't really trust you yet not to do me some injury, so this will prevent that, and also give you a graphic example of how easily I can use you. Without warning, he pried her mouth open, popped the metal ring between her teeth and secured the strap around her head. Now her mouth was opened in an O shape. He straddled the chair and slid his erection into her mouth, letting it lie on her tongue. Slowly he stroked it back and forth.

"You see, Carla, ..." he paused, "I probably won't use that name except in public. In private, I'll be using more functional names, like job titles. So, let me start again. You see, cunt... your job description has, shall we say, several bullet points. One of them is cocksucker. So you will have to get very good at it. Since I doubt you'd be very cooperative at the moment, nd since my cock needs servicing, we'll do it this way. I fuck your mouth as long as I want, as deep as I want, and you'll swallow my cum. I'll forego you licking me clean, at least for the moment." He suited his actions to his words, and picked up a steady rhythm, holding Carla's head between his hands and thrusting into her without regard for her discomfort. Suddenly he stopped. "Oh, but it IS our honeymoon after all. Perhaps I'm being selfish." Back to the drawer he went and this time came out with a lavender vibrating dildo. Unceremoniously, he spread her pussy open, worked it in, ignoring her protests. "Don't whine. It's already kind of wet... I knew you had a slut streak in you." Flicking it on, he resumed his position and thrust his cock into her mouth. Sure enough, as he had predicted, Carla began to quiver from the deep vibrations in her vagina. He reached down and turned it up to high and then began brutally using her face like a pussy, his cock goins so deep she could only breathe between strokes. At last he buried himself to the hilt and held it there as she was torn between trying ot breathe and cumming all over the vibrator. He drew back and then shot his load down her throat. She had to swallow it.

"Not bad," he shrugged. "Your father thought you'd be decent cocksucker, but we'll see. Now I'm going to get some sleep, and you get to think about your future... I think some fresh air would be helpful. He scooted her and the chair across the carpet and onto the patio. "But it's kind of hot out here, don't you think." He ripped away the sheer fabric of her nightgown, leaving her completely naked, the dildo still in her pussy. He turned her to face outward, toward the little gravel path that ran along in front of the bungalows. In the daylight, she would be on display for anyone passing by. Before going in, he fondled her breasts. "These are pretty nice, but I think I'd like them bigger. We'll take care of that while we're here, too." Thoughtfully, he decided to remove the O ring from her mouth. "Feel free to chat with anyone who comes by," he said. Any woman on this island is fair game for any man who feels like using her, but until I put your cunt label on you, they'll just look and handle."

He left Carla there, shivering a little the dark, wondering what in the world did he mean by 'cunt label,' and could this really he happening to her?

TO BE CONTINUED...

8:00 a.m. Felicia leaves for her massage appointment, tells the maid she won't be back until late evening. She thinks she's meeting her wimp of a husband for dinner. Before that she has shopping, a hair appointment, and lunch with friends. Life is good and she makes all the decisions, as any wealthy privileged woman should. Right? Stan knows better.

Outside the restaurant that night, Felicia's pampered life took a different turn. Two men, wearing some sort of masks grabbed her, threw her into an SUV and put her face down on the back seat. Quickly her wrists were cuffed behind her and her ankles strapped. She kept screaming until one man said, "Shut the fuck UP, bitch!" and pressed her faced into the seat until she couldn't breathe. She felt hands all over her, pulling up her dress, pulling down her panties. "Hey," says another voice, "don't mess with the goods. You know this one's for the special party."

Laughter. "No one says we can't touch the merchandise, long as we don't use it."

Felicia was horrified, in total panic. But she was angry too. how dare they presume to treat her this way! It was not a long ride, but it seemed endless as fingers probed between her legs and pinched her ass. The car stopped and the men pulled her out, blindfolded her and then, right there in the middle of a parking lot, they stripped off her clothes ... every shred. "You won't need these anymore," said the first man. "Yeah," agreed the second. "Kind of like putting clothes on a cow going to see the bull... would you look at those tits." Hands mauled her breasts briefly. "I wouldn't mind seeing those drag the ground when the bitch crawls."

Felicia was nearly out of her mind with fear and loathing. Men calling her names like that, touching her most intimate places, treating HER... Felicia Smith-Groves...like some kind of trollop. It hadn't yet occurred to her that it was going to get worse. She was thinking kidnapping for ransom, and of course, dear Daddy would pay anything to get her back.

She was half-dragged, half carried across pavement. She heard a door open, then they went through. The corridor echoed, it seemed they were going down an ramp. Before long, another door. She could hear a murmur of voices. The she was thrown to the floor, She felt carpet under her body. A few moments later, more hands pulling her upright then into a cold metal chair. The wrist cuffs were removed, only long enough to secure her wrists behind her, and to the chair. Ankles yanked apart, strapped to something else cold. The blindfold was removed, but at first all she could see was a bright light. Finally, she saw it was some sort of spotlight, and then someone turned it down. There were faces all around her, unfamiliar faces, at least a dozen men. She was furious. "How dare you do this. I demand that you release me at once. Do you know who I am?"

A voice behind the light said, "Yes, we do. And why should we when we went to all the trouble of obtaining your services."

"Services?"

"You're the entertainment for one of our special events." Ordinarily we would simply hire an accommodating whore, or perhaps abduct a lonely single woman who wouldn't be missed. But one of our members suggested you would be just right for something we haven't done for a while."

The man strode forward into the her field of vision. "You see, Felicia, you've pissed off a lot of people, particularly the men in your life. And now it's time you found out what it is like to be humiliated, betrayed... used." He lifted one of her breasts by the nipple. "You will be treated as you deserve... like a piece of ass...three holes to service cock, nothing more. If you do not comply, you will be punished. If you do not follow every order to the letter, you will bear the consequences." He took the other nipple in his left hand and pulled hard on both, jiggling her tits.

"You don't mean you're going to rape me?" she asked, in a melodramatic tone, since she herself could not believe it.

The man laughed. "Rape you? Well of course you're going to be raped, and sodomized, and abused. You're going to have so many cocks penetrate your orifices, you won't be able to keep track of them. And there will be an attentive audience encouraging your rapists to do their best... or is it their worst."

"You wouldn't!"

"Actually, ordinarily we would do it ourselves. But this occasion calls for something specifically tailored to our member's request. And quite honestly, you're not good enough for any of us. We have instead invited three special guests who have just recently been released from the penitentiary. They haven't had any pussy in several years, but they are going to have yours."

Felicia saw three hulking black men step out of the shadows. Her blood ran cold. "No, please, my father will give you anything you want, call my husband. Please."

"But Felicia," he said with a smile, "we don't have to call them. They are both here. They belong to our club now and it is their suggestion to .. invite... you. They want to watch while these three men fuck your brains out and treat you like something even lower on the social scale than a whore." She saw her father and husband coming closer. Stan's smile ws almost evil, and her father just looked disgusted with her.

Stan stepped up beside the chair in which she was bound and reached between her spread legs to pull on the mound of hair. This pussy's going to finally get a workout," he said. "You thought it was just too good for my cock... let's see how you like theirs." She realized the three men released prisoners had taken off their clothes, and three massive, hard penises were pointing right at her.