The Breaking of Tracy part 9
Introduction:
Tracy breaks in the conclusion of this series.
part 9
Tracy Breaks
I need to find a woman. A very specific woman. A young Japanese woman that speaks fluent Chinese and English. I take woman and turn them into slaves, it’s my passion. And my business. My current client is a man of taste who has purchased from me in the past. Each request has gotten more specific and hard to find. Mr. Zheng is a captain of industry in China. He’s also a racist misogynist. He wants his own Japanese slave girl he can torture and humiliate for years. I’ll need to find a girl with an entitled attitude that he can rape out of her, but one who is not as smart as him. Mr. Zheng has anger issues, I don’t want to give him a slave that will smart mouth him without thinking and get killed. It would be bad for business. I need a mufti-lingual Japanese Kardashian, if you will. I know where to find girls that fit his needs. But extracting one will be difficult. Her death will most likely need to be faked.
For 13 hours I’ve been in my study, putting a file together. I send it off to my head kidnapper, Cole. It will go like this, back and forth emails for the next month until an appropriate candidate and plan are in place. Then she will be taken. Taken and nd brought to here, to me, on my estate. She will be broken and beaten until her will breaks and she submits. She will be given to Mr. Zheng who will then rape and torture her for years. Perhaps decades. And one day he will kill her.
I love my work.
I touch a remote in my robe pocket. Half a minute later I begin to hear the sounds of a limping gate from the hallway. My study door opens and in walks Baby, my aid. The former ad executive is normally a beauty. But the beating I gave her the other night has left a mess of her. One eye is swollen shut, her lip is split and her body is covered in welts, bite marks and purple bruises. She has her her blond hair combed to hide the side of her face and the worst of her bruising on her face. There is nothing she can do to hide the bruising on her body. She is only allowed to wear garters, stockings and a thong, allowing nearly every inch of her beating be shown to the world. Her large, D breasts heave. She had run as best she could to get here quickly. As she should.
“You will accompany me to the novice room.” I tell her, drinking the broken and beaten sight of her in. “I am going to rape my new toy, possibly very brutally and I want you to tie her up for me. Then you I want you to go get a cow ready, I’ll call when I want it brought in.” I think for a moment. It’s time. “Afterwards I want you to have the house tip top, I and Rapewhore will be returning to the above estate later.”
She nods. With great effort she speaks through swollen lips. “Yesh daddy.”
I stand and walk passed her into the hall. Baby struggles to keep up, her 8” heels and ankle cuffs make it hard for her to move. Baby is a well trained slave and knows to keep up as best she can, even at the risk of falling over. She understand that I’d rather see her fall and hurt herself than be inconvenienced a moment by her walking slowly. She has had practice and keeps up well enough and does not fall.
I make my way down the stairs leading to the dungeons. Twenty feet down the stairs and at the end of a short hallway stands the large wooden door leading to the dungeon and a Whore. My beautiful latex clothed Whores are the three slaves I’ve placed in charge of the dungeons. Whore 3 stands at attention. The full latex body suite she wears tightly hugs every inch of her body, leaving only her eyes, mouth and breasts exposes. Whore 3 was a 23 year old farmer’s daughter from Iowa. I’d once seen her in the background of a news report and been captivated by her. I’d had her tracked down and abducted, made to look like she had run away from home. Eight years she has been here. She learned well and was risen up from a common slave to one of the head staff on the estate. But she wasn’t beautiful anymore. Her face had been ruined during one of my get togethers. So I made her a Whore. The latex mask hides her face and makes her look beautiful in a new way.
I don’t stop to speak with her as she silently opens the door for me and Baby. The dark walls of the dungeon bounce the sound of our footsteps. In the novice room, within the depths of my slave dungeons, I’m sure Tracy can hear our approach. She surely fears my approach, but she will remain waiting for me as I’ve instructed. Yesterday I was gentle with her. But she knows that I won’t always be gentle with her. I’ve tortured her a little already. It’s been foreplay. I’ve made her mine. Now it is time to mark my property. I will degrade her and she will take it.
I open the door to the novice room. Tracy stands nude in the middle of the room holding her arms behind her back. She flinches. She’s resigning herself to the situation but is still afraid and disgusted. Good. I want her skin to crawl at the sight of me. My personal slave is a special thing. They have to obey but still feel the desperation of their situation. Only through repeated attacks and violations will they eventually desensitize themselves. If I’m lucky, it could be years before I replace Tracy as my personal slave. Then another girl will take her place and I’ll move Tracy to another role. Perhaps a Whore or a Headmistress. Tracy will be my ninth personal slave. If I am right about her, she will be the slave I measure all other slave’s worth by.
I move into the room. Behind me Baby enters. Tracy does her best to keep her eyes straight, but I can tell that she sees what I’ve done to Baby from the way her eyes widen in horror. A shiver runs down her spine and creeps along her skin. She is repulsed at the site and afraid of what will be done to her. As she should be.
I hear Baby close the door and move to my side, taking up a similar stance as Tracy. The three of us stand together like that, Tracy shivering in fear, Baby still with beaten in obedience and me, master of both. I become erect, the blood flowing to my cock. Only when it is fully erect, pulsing greedily. do I speak.
“Standing vertical spread. By the right ankle, neck and hair. Arms behind her back and a bar between her knees. Now.”
Baby immediately moves to a cupboard off to the side of the novice room. From it she takes various lengths of ropes out. She returns to Tracy and begins to tie her. Tracy obeys every movement Baby makes of her. Baby takes Tracy’s arm, Tracy lets Baby take her arm. Baby loops lengths of rope in and around it in intricate patterns, Tracy lets her. Baby knows the patterns and techniques by heart, never hesitating. It really is a beautiful talent, the ability to bind someone so. I make sure all slaves in positions of authority of other slaves know these techniques. I want my toys wrapped as beautifully as possible before I rape or kill them.
In time Tracy’s arms are bound to each other behind her back. Should she struggle they would remain in place without give. But Tracy does not struggle. Soon I will take her and it will be glorious to experience as she lets me. Baby begins binding Tracy in more rope. A loop over he shoulders and back to her forearms. A loop around her throat and back around her forearms. For an instant Tracy loses all composure and begins to panic. The sensation of the rope being placed around her neck causes her to nearly lose herself. But the moment passes and she remains as calm as she can. There is a pleading look left in her eyes afterwards that does not go away. My heart goes out to her for a moment, the poor thing, so beautiful does she look. Her chest heaves as her breathing quickens. The moment of her rape is close at hand. The anticipation of the molestation must be sending her adrenaline through the roof.
Baby gathers Tracy’s hair into a ponytail before tying it, too, with rope. Again the rope is looped through the ties on her arms. Baby spends time looping the new piece of rope in with the other around her arms before letting the length drop. She walks over to a control hanging near the wall and thumbs the button. A whirring sounds from above as a winch descends from the ceiling. Baby stops it’s descent close to Tracy’s head and returns to the girl. Taking the rope up again she begins tying the end off to the winch, making sure to leave slack. It seems a fleeting moment before Baby returns to the control and raises the winch. The slacks lessens then disappears. Taught, the rope begins to pull Tracy’s arms up. Baby stops the winch perfectly. From the angle Baby can not see, but the first inkling of a wince on Tracy’s face coincided with the winch stopping. I train my girls so well.
Most of Tracy’s weight will be held up by her arms, which will pull painfully up behind her, and by her hair, which will be yanked up. A little weight will be taken by the shoulders which will have the single thread of rope dig painfully into her. Lastly the rope around her throat does not actually bear any weigh, but the tension from everything else will pull it tight to her neck. It won’t suffocate her but Tracy it will feel like it does.
Baby flips a small switch and thumbs another button, moving another winch across the room closer to Tracy. The winches run on a crisscrossing track around the room, allowing me to quickly tress my slaves up as I see fit. Baby stops the winch to the right of Tracy, about a foot and a half away from the first.
My trained aid stops the winch and returns to Tracy. Taking more rope she bends down, careful not to fall in her high heels or anklets. At Tracy’s legs she begins binding her right ankle. Much like before Baby returns to the control and lowers the winch before attaching the rope to it. Raising the winch spreads Tracy’s legs. This time Baby over estimates Tracy’s threshold and only stops upon hearing an audible cry of pain.
Balanced unevenly, Tracy wobbles. The ropes hold her well without much circulation loss. I think I can keep her like this for at least 8 hours if I wanted to. She’ll most likely only be in it for one or two.
Baby goes off to a bench rack in the corner and selects a bar with straps on either end and a wrench. She returns to Tracy and, placing the wrench aside, begins strapping one end to Tracy’s raised right knee. It fits wonderfully. Baby lowers her bruised body once more to the ground and straps the other end to Tracy’s other knee. Taking the wrench she fits it to the bar and begins to ratchet it, spreading the bar further. Tracy’s leg had been pulled up by the ankle. Finding it more comfortable to pirouette a little and let her knee hang is a natural movement for anyone in such a position, as it is more comfortable for a time. The bar spreads her knees, forcing her leg straight. The first genuine cry of pain escapes Tracy’s lips as her leg is full spread, farther than it most likely ever had. I estimate she stands with her legs at a 110° angle.
Baby stops and inspects her work. She looks back to me, waiting. I enjoy the site. Baby, my rape victim not so long ago and for many years. Now my accomplice in readying my next rape victim. I treasure my life and the gifts it has brought me. Gifts like this. My mind wanders to that moment, all those years ago. To my father’s house when I was still a teenaged young man. His maid had been an undocumented worker. She had been older but very pretty. My mind wanders to that moment long ago when I decided to take her. I had busted her lip and blackened an eye before taking her over the kitchen counter. Afterwards I did not try to bribe her silence. I’d let her know what would happen if she said anything. I continued to rape her several times a week for nearly a year before she quit and returned to Mexico, unable to stand it. When my father passed away some time later I had already decided upon my course in life. My first act had been to track her down. I raped and killed her in front of her gorgeous daughter’s eyes. Her daughter had become my first personal slave. Looking at Tracy now I appreciate the tradition she is about to become a part of. I look to Baby and nod. She puts the wrench down on the nearby table and leaves quickly, closing the door behind her.
Tracy and I are alone at last.
I take a thin cane from the wall and approach my trussed up play thing.
“I’m going to hurt you now, Rapewhore.” I say to Tracy, testing the flexibility of the cane. “There is nothing you can do to lessen or halt this. You are no longer a person, you are property and belong to me. As you belong to me I will do anything to you that I want. This will include everything up to and including killing you, if I am of the mind.” I eye Tracy quickly. She does not move or react, it seems. Good. “After I tire of hurting you, I will rape you. I might let you down afterwards, I haven’t really given it much thought. But if you, even once, ask me to stop, I will kill your brother and have your sister and mother raped. Do you understand me?”
Her eyes shimmer in fear before she gathers herself and answers. “Yes daddy, I understand.”
“Good.” I reply. I flick my wrist, making the cane lurch out and strike her chest. Tracy’s reaction is instantaneous. She screams in pain and thrashes against her bindings. From her reaction it seems as if she hurts her shoulders while flailing around. She will learn to stand their and take the pain as reacting only leads to more. I, on the other hand, will do my best to always get a reaction. It’s not fun unless she hurts and hates herself.
Again the cane cuts through the air, stopped only by the tender flesh of Tracy’s body. Over and over the song of the cane, a slice of air and a crisp smack against skin, sings. Angry red lines quickly raise up all over Tracy’s front. I strike her chest and breasts several times, hitting her nipples three times. Tracy’s pained howls fill the room and her face contorts into a horrible grimace. All the while she tries and fails to remain still, hurting herself more as she pulls against the ropes holding her.
My strikes move lower, hitting Tracy across her abdomen and stomach. The tender flesh quickly turns red in pain as I crisscross several strikes along her body. The endorphins are now running through her body and she is able to manage the pain somewhat better. Instead of thrashing involuntarily against her bindings she now simply twitches in pain. Were I to place my hand to her cunt I’m sure I could make her cum. I’ve started the process of intertwining pain and pleasure in her, it would be easy to do. Looking I see her delicate pussy glisten in sweat and arousal. I do nothing of the sort. This is not about confusing her body into accepting torture. This is about dominating her soul and showing her that the only will governing her body is mine. She will orgasm only after her body has taken all it can.
I move the cane strikes to her legs. But these are not the strikes with which she is accustomed. The strikes upon her breasts and stomach seem gentle by comparison. I pull my arm back and strike with force. Tracy does not simply twitch at this. She returns to flailing at every touch. Red lines no longer raise up, instead my strikes bring forth welts peppered with blood. The site is intoxicating. Both her raised leg and the leg upon which she stands receive treatment in kind. I eventually lower my arm, looking at the sight before me.
Tracy, marked and bleeding hangs nearly limp in her bindings. She cries openly, head slack against her tied shoulder. Her eyes are closed in a juvenile way, as if hoping everything that is happening to her is a bad dream. I stroke myself while looking at her like this. She is a tableau of everything I love. I crave her badly and yearn to take her now. But if I want to break her, that can not happen.
I return the cane to it’s place on the wall and move to a thick leather cat o’nine tails whip. Returning to Tracy I pick up two weighted nipple clamps along the way. Moving to the front of Tracy she sees what I have for her. Again her face contorts in a grimace. She buries her face again in her arm to spare her having to see me attach them. With one hand I open the first and move the teeth to her nipple. Gently releasing it, the metal bites into the sensitive flesh. Tracy howls into her arm, still without looking. I repeat the process and so does she. I gaze at her chest, her nipples weighted down and inflamed. Lovely. I move behind her and, without a word, begin to pull my arm back.
“P-please…” Tracy whimpers.
I honestly thought I wouldn’t have to punish her so. A shame. “What did you say?” Move in front of Tracy and back hand her across the face with my free hand. “Did you just beg me to stop?”
Terrified, Tracy begins to shake in uncontrollable fear. “N-n-n.” Too frightened to speak, she shakes her head. I punch her in the side of her face. There will be a bruise bellow her eye but no lasting damage to her pretty face.
“Please what?” I demand of her. “PLEASE WHAT?”
“P-p-pleeease…” Tracy’s eyes widen for a moment, a dawning realization coming over her. I think she understands there’s no way out of what she has done. “Please h-hurt me…more, daddy.”
Bless her, what a creative way to buy back what she has said. She and I both know that she was begging for no such thing. Tracy, mind numb from pain and high on endorphins, had a momentary lapse. I really am falling in love with this girl. I want to torture her until my eyes fail me and I grow grey. I imagine for a moment torturing her at age 80 before passing away from a heart attack. I imagine I’d have her buried with me, alive of course. One last little torture. I return to the issue at hand. My hand wraps around her neck and squeezes.
“You do not tell me what to do! Do you understand you stupid fucking cunt?” She thinks I will take my hand away and giver her a chance to answer. It takes a moment but she realizes I will not stop choking her and she begins to violently nod her head. I let go and turn away, listening to Tracy gasp for breath. The cat o’nine tails finds it’s self back on the wall and I move further down. This wrack takes up half the length of the room. I take the wooden club I used the day prior on Tracy to assault her rear end. It will assault much more this time.
I return to Tracy just as she raises her head. “This is what you get now. There will be broken bones. Do you understand?”
“Yes daddy, I understand. Thank you.” She sobs to me. I move behind her. I have to be careful, if I hit her spine I could seriously injure her, which could deprive me of a slave. I take aim at her side and swing. Her ribs give in as one or two break. Tracy does not scream in response, having had the wind knocked out of her. I swing again and again. Her ass still carries the bruises from her last encounter with the billy club. I paint her back and legs the same colour. Tracy screams and shouts, but never asks that I stop. Hitting her foot with the club a few times, I miss once. Tracy’s shouts return to the higher pitch of when I broke her rib. Clearly I’ve broken a tow or two.
For nearly 50 minutes I’ve been striking Tracy. First the front and then her back. My arm is tired, the muscles in my chest tight. I walk away from Tracy, letting her hang limp in her ropes, sobbing in a lazy sort of way. I drop the billy club loudly, causing Tracy to jump and scream out in fear. She can not see me as I pick up the last thing I plan to hurt Tracy with.
I circle Tracy and stand before her. A full minute passes before she realizes I am there. She pulls her face away from her arm and looks at me. She begins to cry. She has most likely never been shocked by a cattle prod, but she knows what it is and what it does. She turns her face back into her arm, trying to escape what comes next.
“Rapewhore,” I say, soothingly. “Look at me.” Obediently, Tracy brings her face to me. “Open your legs for me.”
All fear and pain seems to drain from Tracy. It’s as if she’s gone numb. For a moment Tracy is gone, completely blank. Then, slowly, her lip begins to tremble. And a tear falls from her eye. Without looking down Tracy brings her limp hanging leg upright and stands, taking her weight off of her ropes. Staring at the wall she takes a deep breath and pushes her pelvis forward, doing her best to obey. The spread bar keeps her legs open to me, but the psychological effect of presenting herself to me in order to be hurt further if precious.
“Good.” I tell her, gently. Slowly, I take the tip and place it on her most tender of places in such a tender spot. With the tip pressed against her clit, a shudder runs through Tracy’s body. A shudder of horror and perhaps pleasure. She has orgasmed from pain before, perhaps she is about to again. She finally looks back at me.
“Are you ready?” I ask her. She nods slowly, almost mechanically.
My finger pulls back and Tracy stiffens. I squeeze the trigger for six seconds before releasing it. The instant the electricity stops coursing through her body she begins to scream. She trashes violently against the ropes, hurting herself further in the process. It comes out of her in deep, panting guffaws. I let her finish her howling before her leg gives out and she sinks back into the ropes, panting. I enjoy the experience of watching her tasked so. Chest heaving, muscles straining against the ropes, body red and purple, eyes swollen from crying. She is ready to break.
I touch the remote in my robe pocket and return the cattle prod to the rack. Perhaps 20 seconds pass before the door opens. Baby opens the door followed by two Whores, my latex clad head slaves of the dungeons, who are forcing a young brown girl with long hair violently into the room.
“Chain her to the floor over there.” I point. They wrestle the girl across the room and throw her to the ground. Handcuffs are attached to her wrists and ankles before being cuffed to metal loops embedded in the cement ground. When the three of them are done the girl is spread eagle. She screams through the gag in her mouth. Whore 1 and 2 and Baby stand off to the side, placing their arms behind their back in the standard at rest slave pose. All the while Tracy watches. She remembers what happened the last time a cow was brought in. I’d used the gaper and torn the cows asshole apart while suffocating her with my cock, killing it. Afterwards I’d had her head removed and fucked it’s disembodied head while the Maid held it. I’ll most likely do it again, though I’ll make Tracy hold the head.
Without a word I take a knife in hand and begin sawing through the ropes holding up Tracy. Her leg drops limply to the ground before I take the spreader bar from her knees. I then cut the rest of her free. She collapses to the ground all at once. Bending down I cut the last of the ropes from her.
“Stand up.” I tell her as I replace the knife. Gingerly she stands.
“From the chest over there, ” I say pointing, “take the blue strap on and put it on. Then go over there and rape that virgin cow until you cum.” I return to her with the billy club. “Take this. I want you to strangle it with this as you’re nearing your orgasm. I want you to cum as she dies.”
Tracy’s closes her hand around the handle of the club. She stands there, deciding. I can see her thinking over it all. She wants to strike me with the club and flee. She weighs and judges a dozen possibilities. A war is fought inside of her mind.
“Do you understand?” I ask her. She only nods. Tracy turns and slowly limps over to the chest I’d pointed at. As Tracy takes the strap on out I take a seat and place it beside the cow, so I that I have a nice, sidelong view of the show.
Tracy steps into the harness and pulls it up her legs. She squats a little and takes grip of the internal dildo, sliding the piece into her pussy. She is slow to rise afterwards. Her knees wobble and her breathing is labored. I enjoy the sight of Tracy, ready to collapse after her torture. I wonder if the pain from her abuse and her inserting the dildo into her cunt are bringing her closer to orgasm. She pulls the harness straps tight and takes up the billy club before slowly limping over to the cow.
Tracy lowers herself onto her knees between the spread legs of the cow. In front of her the cow thrashes in fear. The girl had been captured a few weeks earlier from a nearby country. Taken by my team from the streets and brought here to my estate. Cows do not live long. They are taken for the purpose of dying. They exist only to be murdered for sexual pleasure. Tracy lines up the dildo head to the cows squirming cunt. Tracy takes hold of the cows hips with her left hand to steady her entrance. She looks over to the slaves and I before looking back at the cow, who doesn’t understand what is happening or why. Chances are she does not speak English.
Tracy tightly closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. And then she thrusts forward. Without any concern for the cow’s well being. Without any reservations or reluctance. Without any will of her own. She violently penetrates the cow’s cunt. The cow’s eyes spread wide. She is silent for a moment as a tear’s begin to well up. She moans loudly into the gag. Tracy pulls her hips back and plunges into the cow again. The muffled screams fill the room as it’s hymen is torn apart and her virgin pussy if stretched wide. Tracy bites her lower lip as she fucks the cow hard, the purple dildo stained red with stolen virginity. Tracy changes the angle of her thrusts, I suspect to better hit her G spot with the internal dildo. Grunting, she pistons her thrusts, raping the cow. Tracy’s grunting gives way to panting. I love the sight of her as she takes the billy club and lays it across the cow’s throat. She grabs hold of either side of the club and pushes down, putting all of her weight onto her throat, all the while still raping the cow.
Cutting off not only the air flow but the blood flow, it takes only a few quick moments for the colour to to darken in the cows face. The pressure causes a trickle of blood from the cow’s nose, across her face and to the floor. Her thrashing slows as Tracy continues to rape and strangle the cow. A sob escapes Tracy as the cow goes limp. Tracy, still plunging into the dead pussy beneath her, begins crying. Tears stream down her face as she pounds the dead cow. A final thrust and she she stiffens. An orgasm tears through her body, rocking her. She shudders through it, eyes still closed. Tracy collapses on top of the cow, spent and panting.
“Rapewhore. Get up and crawl over to me.” I say. Tracy opens her eyes, her face pressed to the cow’s cooling cheek. She looks to me, coming back to the moment. I see her eyes grimace in disgusted resignation. I live for that sight in the eyes of a slave. Tracy pushes herself up from the cow and wipes the tears from her eyes. She takes the base of the strap on in hand and pulls out from between the dead body’s legs. On her hands and knees she makes her way over to me.
“Stop.” I tell her, three feet away from me. She stops. “Rapewhore, I am going to rape your ass. You will turn around, press your cheek to the cement, reach back and pull your cheeks apart. Whore 1 will lick your asshole, which will be the only lubricant you will get before before I fuck you. When I start, you’ll put your forearms on the floor and remain as such until I cum.”
“Yes, daddy.” She replies. She turns around, facing away from me. Leaning forward, she obeys me and places her left cheek to the ground and reaches back, pulling her ass cheeks apart. Whore 1 moves behind Tracy, getting on her knees, the latex body suite squeaking pleasantly. From her masked mouth slides her tongue. She leans forward and buries her face in Tracy’s ass. The Whore places a hand on each ass cheek and works vigorously to obey my order. I look and see the black clothed four fingers that make up the Whore’s hand, contrasted by the pale skin of Tracy’s bottom. The former daycare worked has had each pinky removed. The sight is sexy. I think I will commission a painting of Whore 1 eating out Tracy’s ass.
“You’re timing was off, Rapewhore.” I continue. “I told you to cum as the cow died. You’ll be whipped later for that.” I tell her. “Thank you, daddy.” Tracy replies, as the Whore shoves her tongue deep into her rectum. I stand, erect cock bobbing in front of me. The Whore pulls her head out from between Tracy’s ass cheeks and moves to the side, getting out of my way. I lower myself onto my knees behind Tracy. Prone before me, I place my hand on her ass cheek, rubbing it gently. I touch her tenderly before I hurt her further.
I lean forward, touching the head of my dick to the entrance to the her asshole. I’ve waited days for this moment. Days earlier she had fought and screamed and cursed me. Now she lets herself be tied up and beaten. She rapes and kills at my command. And she prostrates herself and waits patiently to be raped. I take my long awaited prize. My hands take hold of Tracy’s hips. I push forward, forcing myself into Tracy. Her reaction is immediate. The poor girl has screamed before in my care. Not like this. Her scream rips the room apart, hurting my ears. I love it. I pull out and force my cock into her more forcefully than the first. Tracy screams again, her face twisted in pain. Through the haze of pain, she lets go of her ass cheeks and lays her forearms on the floor. The third time I pull out my cock is covered in blood. I am not satisfied. I reach out and grab hold of her shoulders, pulling her back into my.
“Take it, you cunt. You fucking slut.” Her ass is tight, practically strangling my cock. I plow into her over and over, forcing my way deep into her. Tracy grips the floor. Words flow out of her, twisted beyond recognition. The pain warps any semblance of what she tries to convey. Probably she is begging me to stop. Normally that would be punishable. But I’m enjoying hurting her too much. I rear back a fist and punch her in the kidney. Tracy’s screaming interrupts itself
“Do you like daddy’s cock raping your ass, whore?” I demand of Tracy through gritted teeth. She shouts something out halfheartedly, in so much pain to think to very straight. My fist connects with her bruised body again. “What did you say?” I yell. “YESSSS!” Tracy screams painfully. I take hold of her hips again, digging my nails into her flesh. One, two, three thrusts and I explode inside of her. I don’t stop. Again and again my cock shudders, coating her insides. I stay still, enjoying the sensation of cumming in a new slave, one I’ve obsessed over. Tracy continues to scream and cry, agonized from being torn apart, inside and out. I giver her a final punch in the kidney before pulling out. Blood and semen both stain my dick and leak out of Tracy’s violated anus.
Panting I stand up and collapse back onto the chair, spent. Every feeling and sensation in my body radiates from my dick and flows out into the rest of my body. Hurting her has been everything I’ve wanted to be. And I get to do it over and over again. She has no life to speak of. Even though she stays as still as possible, it looks as if Tracy wants to curl up inside of herself and hide in shame. I look forward to rape and torture her for decades until she loses the ability to hate herself.
I compose myself. “Rapewhore, get over her and clean my cock.” I tell her. The final humiliation. Tracy will be weak from my abuse. If she has any will left and tries to bite she will be too weak to seriously hurt me before she in turn gets knocked off of me. It’s happened a few times before. But the psychological torture and the reality of the situation, both her hopelessness and the threat of hurting her family, should keep her in line. If she takes my cock into her mouth and sucks off all my semen and all of her blood and shit, she will be mine forever.
Shaking, exhausted and still crying loudly, Tracy forces herself up to her hands and knees. Gingerly she moves towards me. I spread my legs a little, giving her access to my flaccid member. Between my legs, Tracy sits back on her knees. Breathing heavily, she reaches up and takes hold of me at the base. As before, a war if fought within Tracy. I can see what Tracy wants to do. She opens her mouth. She leans forward. Her lips peel back and she bares her teeth. She wants revenge for everything that’s been done to her by me. She raises her eyes to meet my downward gaze.
“Do it, slave.” I tell her, almost tauntingly. Her grip tightens around the base of my dick. Her breath is hot against me. For a second, her upper lip twitches into a frown. But her faces slackens. And her grip relaxes. Tracy breaks. She lowers her mouth onto my cock, taking me as deep as her untrained throat can. Not too long ago she called me a sick fuck. I am a sick fuck, but she will never have the privilege of saying that again. Now she wraps her mouth around my shaft and slurps the mess off of me. Her head bobs up and down as Tracy uses her tongue to clean me. Tracy may have been a virgin but the girl must have given a blowjob or two as she knows her way around a cock.
I take a fistful of her hair and pull her hair back. Tracy’s mouth releases my cock and she looks up at me. “The Whore’s will take you Dr. Goode to be looked at. You’ll then be brought up to the estate. You’ll be shown your duties and be acquainted with the grounds today. Tomorrow you’ll begin your training.” I say to Tracy.
“Yes daddy.” She says, her voice a little more dead than earlier. I smile. I nod to the Whores who pull Tracy up to her feet, taking the strap on off of her before leading her to the door. Tracy’s sexy, bruised ass and legs, stained in welts and the leaking blood and semen from her torn asshole, move away from me. It is a lovely sight. Whore 2 opens the door and leads Tracy out, with Whore 1 closing the door behind them.
“Show her the estate after Dr. Goode clears her. And contact Mistress Bitchcraft. Let her know Rapewhore is ready to be trained.”
“Yes, daddy.” Baby answers. She too shuffles across the room and out the door.
I am alone. I sit in the novice room for a long while. Rapewhore will take her place at my side and learn her duties in the upcoming weeks. Which is good. But I mourn for the loss of what we shared. The last few days have honestly been the best days of my life. I’ll never again be able to break Tracy. Such is the nature of the slave business. Tracy is gone, only Rapewhore remains. I look forward to using her forever.
***
I hurt. God, please kill me. I’m being led down a dark hallway by two latex clothed woman. Daddy calls them Whores. Daddy. Fucking asshole is more like it. Less and less I’m thinking of him as that. I’m afraid I’ll accidentally call him fucking asshole. I compromised in my own mind and try to think of ‘Daddy’ as a name, not some perverse title. Try to think, in clearer moments. More and more I do as I’m told on instinct. I tell myself I’m learning to survive. The truth is that I’m being conditioned. It’s just easier to obey. Right now I hurt just too fucking much for all of that. I’m not thinking about my situation too much. For days I’ve been raped and tortured by that cocksucker. I’m crying softly the whole way down the hallway. I tried to talk to the latex women the first few days. Whoever they were once, they’re just is sick puppets now. I want to fight and struggle against them. I want to go back to Daddy and kick him in the balls. I want to swear and claw at them all. I know I won’t. I’m afraid what will happen if I do anything. What would happen to my family? Bad things. I’d end up like The Hole, arms and legs cut off and raped by dogs constantly. Then a new girl would be taken. I accept but hate my situation.
I limp and breath hard the entire time we walk. I’m pretty sure I have a broken foot and ribs. What really makes it hard to walk is whatever he did to my ass. I know I’m bleeding but I can’t imagine how bad it is. Very, probably. The first time he raped me, it was gentle, almost tender. Even after all the beating and torture, some part of me expected that again. Daddy proved that wouldn’t be the case. I am led down a labyrinthine path and quickly loose track of which twists and turns we’ve taken. Not that I tried very hard. It’s a struggle to stay upright and conscious right now. I hear what sounds like the girl ahead of me punching a keypad. I don’t really pay attention. The door opens and I’m led into a stairwell. It hurts to climb the few stairs. When he raped me he tore something deep in me. The room I’m led into is brightly lit. It huts my eyes.
“This the new one?” I hear a woman ask. Squinting I make out a woman in a white doctors coat and a black dress.
“Yes, doctor. Daddy wants you to fix her up and get her back quickly.” One of the latex girls say.
“Should be fine.” The doctor says. “You can leave.”
The latex hands let go of my upper arms and they leave the way they entered. I struggle to keep standing. I haven’t had a lot of sleep and I’ve been beaten and hurt in ways I couldn’t imagine a week earlier. The doctor’s hand replaces the Whores’ hands and leads me over to a hospital bed. I go to sit down too quickly and I involuntarily scream out in pain. Jesus fuck, I can’t even begin to imagine what’s all been done to me. This isn’t my life, this shouldn’t be fucking happening. I want to scream and shout and cry. I’m learning not to. I’m learning to be a slave.
“It’s okay, honey. Gently, gently.” The doctor says in a very comforting way. I try again. It stills hurts, but I make it onto the hospital bed. “There you go, honey.” She rubs my arm. “What’s your name?”
My eyes adjusting, I manage to see the doctor well for the first time. The woman is beautiful. Glasses, red dress, black hair and a concerned look on her face. “…Tracy.” I manage to say. The concerned look on her face never leaves, which is why the smack across my cheek takes me by surprise.
“That isn’t you’re fucking name, honey. Try again.” She says to me. Great, another fucking sicko. “Rapewhore.” I reply, sullenly.
“Good. How old are you, honey.” She asks.
“Twenty.” I reply. She smiles. “That’s okay out there, but in here, you’re 12. Do you understand?” What the fuck? I shake my head no.
“We’ll get you fixed up in no time and get you back to daddy real quick. But if you help me maybe I can help you.” She says, placing a hand on my naked thigh. Naked. It surprises me how quickly my shame at being naked went away. I barely even register it anymore. Just another part of the conditioning, I suppose.”Painkillers, an extra day on the waver wire. I can be good to you. Can you be good to me and pretend you’re only a 12 year old little girl?” I close my eyes. I’m learning more and more that I’ll have to do a lot of disgusting things to survive. Maybe this one won’t hurt.
I nod. “I understand.”
“Good. Roll over and I’ll be back. We’ll get you stitched up and keep you here a day or two. We’ll see how good a little girl like you can eat pussy.” The doctor says before leaving.
As carefully as I can I roll over onto my stomach. The relief is instant. I want to cry into the pillow. I’m not sure I can anymore. In the next bed a young redheaded girl lays with her legs in casts.
“Hey.” I whisper. She doesn’t react. I don’t think she heard me. “Psst.” I try again.
“Eat her pussy, do everything he says and maybe you’ll get lucky and be killed. Don’t talk to me again.” The girl says in a British accent. She never takes her eyes away from the ceiling. Is this what I’ll become? A broken thing that used to be a girl? Yes, I think, I probably will. I spread myself and wait to get raped and then suck the cock of my rapist. I fought back before but have given up now. He broke me already. I wish I could commit suicide. I know that I can’t. I can hear the click of the doctor’s heels on the linoleum getting closer.
I will eat her pussy. I’ll let Daddy rape and torture me. I will do everything I am told to. It’ll be easy. I’m not a person anymore. I can’t afford to have morals or self worth. Not if I want to survive. I’m not Tracy. I’m Rapewhore. A slave. A good little slave. I’m a thing to be fucked and hurt. But I’ll keep my eyes open. Maybe there’s a way to escape. Maybe I’ll be Tracy again?
To be continued in the sequel series, ‘Tracy’s Training’
