The Slaver’s Retaliation

Story contains raping, humiliation and degradation of female characters. Read at your own risk. If you do not like this particular genre, please don’t read it and then dislike it for being too disturbing for your taste. You have been warned. Please judge my writing based on the prose, plot, language, character development, etc. Criticisms are welcomed. Thank you.

Chapter 1

I’m a slave merchant. I kidnap women and sell them off as slaves. You would have thought that such morally corrupted dealings is something of the past. Far from it. There are a lot of sick people out there with a lot of money to spend and there’s apparently no shortage of women to be taken to fill the product line.

Slave trading, or in its more insidious terminology, sex trafficking, is an ignominious profession no matter how you try to twist and turn it. You could say that some women deserve to be slaves or that some women would live a better life being a slave to a millionaire. Whatever the excuses are, it’s still a fucking horrible thing to do.

With that said, that doesn’t mean I couldn’t use a couple of excuses to reduce some of the guilt associating with destroying one’s life. Particularly, a woman’s life. I do need to sleep at night after all. And while most slavers don’t really care who they catch, I have a self-imposed principle that I follow by when selecting potential product. No children. No young professionals. No mothers. The world is already too fucked up as it is. The least I could do is to avoid taking people that may actually help fix the world a little.

There’s another kind of women that I do not take. Rich brat with loaded daddies whom paid for their designers shoes and diamond encrusted watch. Believe me, these bitches deserved to be turned into slaves more than every other women I have taken. But the world isn’t fair and money is power. One wrong move and I could have ended up taking the daughter of some CEO who has ties with some powerful people in the political sphere. Which will not be a good thing if one’s interest is to be low profile.

But I’ll be damned if I can’t teach these ungrateful bitches some table manners once in a while.

I was at a five star hotel at Honduras. I had just finished delivering a product to a respectable client. As agreed, a hundred thousand dollar was wired into my multiple anonymous accounts. With more cash to spend, I decided to stay for a few nights as a reward for my own hard work. There’s really no point doing something so risky and no allow yourself to enjoy life a little.

After checking into my hotel and followed by a quick change into casual wear, I went to the beach to enjoy the sun and wind. I found a shack by the sandy beach and popped myself onto one of the many high seats. I ordered a Gin and Tonic from the bartender and sipped the cool liquid as I enjoyed the scenery.

That was when the tiny peace I had found myself in shattered by the giggling squeal of a couple of bikini clad girls. Judging from their accent, I would place my bet on the United Kingdom. One had a long blond hair and the other was a brunette with a pixie cut. They were very cute looking and I don’t usually say a girl is cute unless I really mean it. My eyes quickly fell to their voluptuous breasts that the skimpy fabric had a hard time to contain. My eyes went further down to their flat stomach, their round butts, then the smooth long legs and finally what seemed to be really expensive shoes. I didn’t missed out the classy bangles and platinum necklaces that adorned the girls too.

The blonde caught me looking at her and nudged her friend. The two women, who certainly looked no more than twenty, turned and sneered at me.

“What a creep.” the brunette said.

I raised my glass at them and proceeded drinking the cooling liquid nonchalantly. I had been called worse in my line of work, believe me. And I couldn’t really blame them. Young women preferred hot looking men. I hadn’t been working out much lately and my once well-structured body sort of melted off into a less defined mass of muscles and fat. The fact that I was hitting forty obviously didn’t help too. Still, I could probably haul these two over my shoulders and gave them both a hard spanking without breaking a sweat.

“Stop looking at us you perv.” the blonde hissed.

“Stop putting yourselves on display then, bitch.” I countered.

The two widened their eyes to an almost comical size. Their jaws dropped as if that’s the most horrible thing they had ever heard. The blonde moved around the curved bar and a second later, she was only a couple of inches from my face.

“What did you just call me?” she hissed and I instantly smelled a hint of alcohol from her breath. Little sweet cake here had obviously been drinking too much booze for her own sake.

“You heard me.” I calmly said and reached for my drink. That was when feisty blonde here slapped it out of my reach. The crystal tumbler fell off the table and tumbled down the slope before resting on a heap of sand. The content of it spilled out along the way.

“Do you know who you are speaking to?” she asked in a threatening voice.

“Who? The Queen of England?” I gave a mock response before gesturing at the bartender for another Gin and Tonic.

The brunette came to the blonde’s side apparently to show moral support for the blonde and almost tripped along the way.

“Her dad’s the Chairman of Pymex Corp. And my dad works as the CEO.” the brunette announced proudly, almost giddily too. Figures. These were brats with rich daddies that I detest. From the scent of alcohol in her breath, I took it that she too had been drinking far too much for her own good. Nothing makes young women like them the easiest target for slavers like me than drinking too much in a country like Honduras. In fact, I had quite a few slaves taken right out of this beach a few years back.

“You must have heard of Pymex, haven’t you?” the blonde said patronizingly.

“Pymex? Is it a snack?” I asked with a mock sense of humor. Of course I knew Pymex. It’s the largest pharmaceutical corporation in Europe and practically the largest supplier of medical products to customers such as the NHS.

“It’s the largest pharmaceutical company in the world.” the blonde announced with a genuine sense of pride, as if she hadn’t caught on to my sarcasm.

“Yeah. Her dad has so much money, he so can hire someone to fucking kill you.” the brunette hissed.

“I hope so. I feel like dying already just listening to you bitches.” I retorted.

“What did you say? Fucking old perv.” the blonde spat on my face. She had the audacity to actually spat on my face! I felt a flush of anger rushed into my face. My fists tightened into a hard ball, ready to be swung across the bitches’ face.

“What? You wanna hit me? Is that it?” the blonde goaded further with a slap across my face. “Come on. I dare you. My dad’s going to chop off your balls if you do.”

“Yeah. Come on you wanker.” the brunette joined in the verbal assault.

I knew in the open, any violence towards women, no matter how justified it was, was always wrong. That’s how society sees it and I would lose no matter what. So, I simply let my rage simmer down and wiped off the spat with a napkin from the bar. The tumbler of Gin and Tonic the bartender had just delivered helped a little to quicken my recovery as I downed the whole thing. I then dropped a couple of tens on the counter and walked off. They would pay for their stupidity soon enough.

“Yeah, you old perv. That’s it. Walk away with your dick between your legs.” I heard the brunette called out and then the two burst into giggling laughs.

“Oh darlings,” I muttered softly to myself, “My dick will soon be between your legs.”

Chapter 2

Honduras was a haven for criminal activity if one knew where to look. One could get just about everything under the sky with the right price. With the exception of nukes and biological weapon, the extensive selection of weapons were really quite the sight. One could even buy a tank if one so wish to. I on the other hand bought myself a high performance taser used by law enforcement. I also got some handcuffs and some mild sedatives, which would prove to be really handy soon enough.

Then, I rented a small studio in an unremarkable part of town and hired the usual workmen that I had worked with before, that would keep their mouth shut for a price, to furnish the otherwise barren lot. A couple of hours later, there’s a large bed with metal post and chains on each corner, two medieval wooden stocks, a modified Spanish donkey, a couple of specially designed chairs with a large hole on the seat where the butt would fall into, and various other implements designed to keep its user restrained and exposed indefinitely. Some time in between a delivery truck came to deliver a horde of sex toys, whips, canes and torture devices and when I came back after lunch, the entire lot now looked like a fanatic’s BDSM chamber.

The only missing things then were the two bitchy English girls. They were the only things I didn’t hire anyone to acquire. First, their daddies were too rich to risk hiring outside help. No secret can be kept when money is on the table. So, I had decided to do the dirty work myself. Which wasn’t all that difficult considering how blissfully ignorant and unassuming these two were. They were practically flaunting their bodies for people like me to take. But I guess their daddies weren’t stupid enough to let their precious little sweet cakes go Honduras without security.

I followed the two girls to a tourist center. Behind them were three security details tailing the two inconspicuously. It took me quite a while to notice them. The three were obviously professionals and I had a feeling that even those two nut heads didn’t know they were being checked on by their daddies. I wouldn’t be surprised if the blonde had a tracking device up her cute butt too.

I had studied the layout of the tourist center down to the number of restrooms it had. There were multiple secluded corridors and hidden pathways; a legacy of the old decrepit structure before the renovation a few years back. Something that I doubted the security details knew of. Nevertheless, I had taken the necessary precautions.

When I noticed the girls entered a clothes store, I knew where exactly I needed to go. With the map of the center still fresh in my head, I moved myself through one of those legacy pathways that would without a doubt lead me to my preys. With me was a large suit case as well as a high-performance duffel bag that would soon to be the temporary housing for the two girls.

I finally found the place I wanted to be and sneaked into the back of the high end store. This place obvious had security cameras but like most of Honduras, most of them were just for show. As long as I kept my head down, no one would be able to see me through the whatever grainy images, if any, that the police would find.

I watched the two girls each entered a tryout room and behind them was a salewoman about the age of forty holding the garments the girls were going to try. Hidden at the corner, I reckoned three other employees. All three of them were busy handling the customers at the front of the shop, leaving the back relatively secluded. I put on a balaclava, timed my watch for two minutes, and then lunged into the tryout area.

The salewoman didn’t even know what hit her as I applied the taser onto her back. She jerked a little before going limped entirely onto my arms. I let her down slowly until she’s lying on the floor. The whole thing happened so quietly, the two unsuspecting prey were still yapping about the dozen ugly men that hit on them while they were on the beach. Which was great as it would provide cover for my identity should the police come looking them, since anyone could have been the one that had taken them.

I pulled out a syringe containing a dose of anti-depressant and slipped through the curtain. In front of me was a half-naked brunette still trying to take off her blouse. Her eyes fleeted to the large mirror in front of her, where her eyes fell onto my terrifying form. Her eyes widened like a doe caught in the head light but before she could turn around and scream, I had my gloved hand strongly cupping her mouth while the other hand sank the needle into her neck. The brunette struggled for a little before the drug kicked in and she went limp.

“…can’t you believe that?” the blonde called out from the other room. “Claire? You still there?”

So the brunette has a name. I smirked and went out to the other room.

“Claire?” the blonde poked her head out. She immediately saw my towering form and she was only barely able to let out a squeak before I silenced her with my palm. I pushed her into the room and use my body to force her against the wall. She tried to scratch my face but her nail simply skidded harmlessly against the thick fabric of my balaclava. I took out the other syringe and prick her right at the vein running along her neck. Once the syringe’s emptied, the blonde’s struggle became sluggish and a moment later, her arms fell limply to her sides.

I hauled her up over my shoulder, took her out and went back to for the brunette. She was exactly where I had left her. I picked her up and hauled her out of there and quickly moved to where I had come from. I went to the place I hid the duffel bag and suitcase. I placed the brunette into the duffel bag and the blonde in the suitcase. Once I had sure that no one was around, I took off my balaclava, stuffed it into my pocket and then turned my jacket inside out. Then, I headed my merry way along the way I came from and soon found my way out into the open street. Just in time, the alarm on my wristwatch announced the end of the two minute timer.

There, I climbed into the van that I had rented from an unlicensed rental service that could not be traced. The back had been retrofitted to carry cargo and the seats had long been taken out. I had placed a couple of mattresses on the otherwise inhospitable platform. I took the girls out from their confinement and laid their sleeping forms on the mattresses. I grabbed the handcuffs I had placed in there and cuffed their hands behind their back and their ankles together. A red ball gag in each of their mouth finalized the setup and they were ready to be transported to the BDSM chamber I had prepared just for them.

I didn’t fail to notice the brunette’s perky breasts and dark nipples or the fact that the blonde was only wearing her lacy undergarments. Their bodies were truly the finest specimens of female sexuality as far as I had encountered in my decade long trade. No cellulite. No birth mark. No scar. The only disappointment was the tiny tattoo peeking out from the blonde’s panties. I peeled the panties away and revealed a very naughty tattoo that I was pretty sure her daddy didn’t know about.

“You are a really naughty girl, aren’t you?” I whispered while tracing the tiny elegant cursive strokes that spelled out ‘Insert Meat Here’. There was an arrow pointing down to what appear to be the pinkest looking cunt I’d ever seen aside from porn. My cock hardened at the suggestive sight but I shoved my arousal out of my mind. Now was not the time. Once these two were safely in the lot, there would be plenty of time to play with their girly bits.

I pulled a blanket over their naked body and then climbed into the driver’s seat. I gunned the engine to life and drove into the main road back to the studio.

Chapter 3

I was browsing the internet when the brunette roused from her slumber. She shifted lazily for a couple of second before her head snapped to attention. She tried to sit up but was held down by the chained collar that I had put around her neck. I watched with amusement as the girl turned from a dazed stupor to full on alert, as if she remembered the things that had happened at the dressing room. With her limbs shackled to the bedpost and her eyes blindfolded, I wouldn’t be surprised if she got into a fear-induced epileptic fit.

“Hello there.” I greeted in a manner that I use to greet all new slaves.