Afican Slave Queen bondage begins

The ride in the presidential helicopter was the first freedom she had felt in over two months. High above the Butta River following it south the large green bird rattled and hummed intensely. Inside the rear cabin Rachel sat in a flowing red dress flanked by two of Mobana’s notorious elite troops. She was not bound or restrained in any way instead allowed to sit prim with knees together on the hard vibrating seat. She could just see out of the window; the sea of jungle green below turning desert yellow as the chopper passed over the capital and then headed even further south towards the gold coast.

In the last 24 hors since her all night humiliation with the two Arab VIPs she had been treated more as a valued possession than a captive. Pampered by two young women they had painted her face and manicured her nails. She had been bathed in scented oils and even her hair had been restored to its fabulous golden cascade. To look at her you may have believed she’d imagined the last eight weeks of indignity, however as she stretched her neck some things remained to bring her back to reality. Her tits and shoulders ached, her new bosoms weight still something she was coming accustomed to.

She arched her back her porn star 40 DD melons almost busting in the fabric, the nipple rings pressing their shape into the red cloth. She was elegantly beautiful, ultra slim, flowing blonde hair about 5’6 with perfect pins; but Mobana had wanted even more and with the help of his pet plastic surgeon he had made cleavage and pussy enhancements to the lithe beauty.

Rachael sensed the enlarged bud clenched between her thighs, her engorged clitoris not aroused at the moment but still feeling like an alien tadpole nestled in her washed and perfumed slit. Her ass felt numb on the seat but this was one thing he had not needed to improve, full and firm a great rump for sauntering provocatively by and also as she had learnt perfect for enduring concentrated slapping and spanking.

The two guards furtively eyed her long legs visible from the knees and felt their lips dry in the heat. She sensed their lustful gaze but looked straight ahead her chiselled nose and full lips glowing in the humid cabin. Both men had seen her blue eyes looking a little dull. Unknown to Rachael she was drugged and was slowly coming down from the manufactured ease that had allowed her to be dressed and transported without fear of escape or resistance. She felt something was wrong but she just couldn’t remember what or why. She felt no inclination to escape as if kidnap and sexual slavery were an everyday occurrence to her. The two men knew she would be easy to take advantage of but the risk of horrendous torture was too much, even for one as perfect and usually unobtainable as her.

It was an hour later when Rachael saw the coast and Mobana’s personal island; her new home. She tried to scan the coast line for signs of where she was but the guards pulled her back onto her seat.

The chopper descended and with a thud touched down.

As she was helped out she could see the island had an army base with barracks as well as large ornate buildings. The whole complex was interlinked by gardens and pools; it looked like a luxury hotel but armed to the teeth.

She stood there in heels and the billowing dress as a waiting fat figure smiled then bowed.

“Joseph,” she said surprised but not understanding why. After all Joe Mobana was the eighteen year old son of the president. Already a healthy 20 stone his portly frame showed that although he wore the military uniform he was no jungle warrior.

“Miss Goodbody it’s so nice to see you again and I must say you’re looking lovely as ever.”

Rachael heard the sarcasm in his voice.

“Joe, please I just want to leave. Please I never did…”

“Oh no? Of course not.” The son said hand behind his back; a pale imitation of his father’s style.

“No you never led me on did you? Never flirted to get your dirty little secrets for the world press?”

Rachel had been a guest of the family not so long back and she remembered how the young man had fawned around her. His sister had even laughed and teased him about it. But that was before; before she had betrayed their hospitality.

“You cock teased me you gorgeous white bitch,” he added turning and walking away. “Now I will tease you at my leisure.”

The two guards gripped under her arms and frog marched her behind the preening fat fool.

“You teased me so much I would jerk myself raw imagining having you.” He said continuing his reminiscing.

Approaching them was a beautiful late 30’s oriental woman dressed in a business suit.

“This is madam Chui; you answer to her from now.” He explained.

Madam Chui nodded to the son then glared at Rachel.

“Now take her to my dungeon.” He commanded.

“But the president, your father says she is for his personal harem. She is to…”

The son gripped his cane snapping it down on his leather boot.

“My father is not here,” he bellowed. “I’m in charge!”

Madam Chui gulped and nodded.

The son strode off at pace eager to start his games.

Rachel tensed her arms but was pulled along; Madam Chui walking in front leading the way as her gorgeous captive began to remember what a predicament she was in.

“OH god his dungeon, please I’ve been good, I’ve done what I’ve been… The general…”

Rachael had heard rumour of the sons appetite for torturing whores and street runaways. Many had been kidnapped and brought here to play in the young mans dungeon. She had on many occasions felt her stomach turn knowing this while she had dined with him and his family. She had played games with evil itself for a story and had gotten too close.

The madam showed her no pity just annoyance at having to explain later to the general himself. Madam Chui noticed this one seemed more resistant than all the generals other slaves. She’d heard the general had decided to allow her to keep a name and quite clearly the conditioning had not gone far enough to break her spirit fully. A bad idea as far a Madam Chui was concerned

“It seems you are the general’s favourite,” The woman said patronisingly. “Well cross me and you’ll wish you were a mindless slut like the rest.” And with that the two guards dragged her underground.

An hour later little Joe Mobana stepped confidently down the dark stone steps as he neared the cell. He straightened his shirt and smoothed his hair as if looking in a mirror, then entered the cell. Today he would repay her teasing and flaunting.

Inside Rachel was alone.

“Oh Rachel,” he said in a husky nervous voice, “I see you’re ready for me.”

The sexy blonde was in the centre of a device strewn room. She was standing though not fully upright. Rachel was on tip toes, eight inch heeled boots the black rubber up to her thighs. The boots were so tight they seemed to mould to her perfect calves; her ankles visible in the tight material her thighs gripped firmly by the boot tops.

She had no skirt instead her full white ass and hips were bare followed again at her tummy with another rubber garment, a corset so tight her waist looked like a cartoon Jessica rabbit character with the massive encased bosom included.