Chapter 6
The shackles soon became second nature, and my reduced stride didn’t bother me much. Working in the oppressive heat was exhausting, but the guards made sure nobody was slacking, using their leather straps liberally on our backs, the soles of our feet and, in particularly serious cases, between our legs.
Sex was largely reduced to masturbation at night and a couple of blowjobs a day in exchange for the odd cigarette. Prison camp or not, I craved nicotine, and since I had already sucked off every single man on site, there was no point in denying myself that simple pleasure.
A few days in, I was selected for a different kind of entertainment. When a guard dragged me into Pam’s hut, I almost didn’t recognize her. She wore her long black hair down and had a towel wrapped around herself. A ridiculously large strap-on dildo was lying on the table, and judging from the bottle of lube, I had no illusion which of my holes would have the pleasure.
Like I had been taught, I squatted down and lowered my eyes.
“Come,” she said, taking off the towel. “Hot pussy need tongue.”
She sat down on her couch and spread her legs. My heart was racing as I stared at Pam’s clean-shaven crotch right in front of me. I forced myself to get closer and tentatively stuck out my tongue, but I just couldn’t do it. I retched and my stomach turned.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“No?” She reached between her legs and rubbed her labia. “Taste like old fish.”
Of course, I knew how pussy tasted – my own at least. “I’m no lesbian, I’m sorry.”
Pam shrugged. “I no lesbian, but tongue is tongue. You no like man doing licky-licky?”
“Yes, I like it, but that’s different.” I shuddered. For starters, someone else was doing the licking. “Please, can we just get to the ass-fucking?”
She glanced at me, then got up. “Okay. No need for licky.”
“Really?”
“Yes, yes, all voluntary. Come!”
She grabbed my left nipple and dragged me out of her hut, toward the whipping post. I didn’t care – I could handle another thrashing if that meant I didn’t have to go down on her. The thought alone was revolting. With shaking fingers, I took off my dress and let her tie my wrists to the crossbeam.
With gritted teeth I stood still, but the lashes I expected didn’t come. Instead, I felt her rub something on my pussy. Two soft fingers encircled my clit, then pushed their way inside me, spreading an oily substance in my most sensitive areas.
Oh. My. God.
The effect was almost immediate. A tingle at first, then the burning started in earnest, making me dance on the spot, my leg irons jingling. It got worse and worse. The pain was off the charts, unlike anything I had ever felt in my life.
“Oh God!” I took short, shallow breaths. “What did you do?”
She grinned. “Chili oil. Now we both have hot pussy.”
“Please, take it off! I’ll eat your pussy! Please, make it stop!”
She patted my ass, then rubbed some of the oil around my anus. “Stop impossible. Give hour or two.”
It was without the shadow of a doubt the most painful thing that had ever happened to me in my life. I screamed and cried and begged, but it was no use. She kept me hanging for hours, bawling my eyes out and screaming myself hoarse.
Finally, when the worst of the pain had subsided, Pam returned with a small bowl. Drenched in sweat and drained of energy, I stared at her.
“Sound like burn stop,” she said, smirking. “Need fresh chili.”
I shifted away as far as I could. “Please, no more of that stuff!”
“No?” She rubbed her crotch. “Still have hot pussy. Need good tongue to stop fire.”
“Yes, yes, yes, I’ll do it!”
She chuckled, rolling my nipple between her fingers. “Sure? Only if want to.”
I was absolutely, one thousand percent sure. Untied from the whipping post and now properly motivated, I shuffled into the hut and went to work without a second thought. It wasn’t as bad as I had imagined, and I reminded myself that cum was an acquired taste, too.
Pam pressed my face into her crotch with both hands. “Yes,” she crooned. “Learn a lot here. When out, can find job at good whorehouse.”
Even though that wasn’t exactly the career I had in mind, I licked and prodded the twat in front of me with manic energy. Moving from her sweaty labia up to the clit, I soon had her panting and approaching the edge of a climax. I could tell that she was trying to hold back, but I took perverse pleasure in breaking her resistance.
She screamed something in her language, letting go of my head as the orgasm hit her with the power of a freight train. I sat back on my heels, wiping the taste from my tongue and lips.
“Good,” she sighed, still trying to catch her breath. “Now eat ass.”
I stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“Eat ass, or want chili? Put tongue inside, yes?”
Whatever she wanted from me, I would have gone along with anything. There was no way in Hell I wanted to repeat my previous experience.
Once more she spread her legs, idly rubbing her engorged clit as I moved closer to her puckered sphincter. She must have used the latrine recently, and if she had wiped at all, she hadn’t done a great job at it.
“No need paper,” she chuckled. “Have lots of dirty sluts at Klong Narok.”
The memory of the chili oil still fresh in my mind, I forced down the rising bile in my throat and licked across her anus. The bitter taste almost made me throw up. As she masturbated toward another climax, I cleaned her ass, then stuck my tongue inside.
She was right: I was definitely learning a lot.
After her third orgasm, she pushed me back with her foot, making me land hard on my butt. Grimacing, I used a finger to scrape the bitter, salty grime off my tongue and, with no water and no way to spit, I forced myself to swallow her filth. Meanwhile, Pam was breathing heavily, recovering from her orgasms.
I hoped my services were no longer needed, but I wasn’t so lucky.
“You want butt-fuck, yes?” she said, out of breath. “Need moment.”
When I glanced at the terrifying strap-on, she grinned. “Like big cock, yes?”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.
She let me sit on the floor for a few minutes until she had regained her composure, then used a length of rope to tie my hands behind my back. She wrapped another rope around my neck, connecting my tied hands and pulling them up high on my back. If I wanted to breathe, I would have to keep my arms away from my butt.
Bent over her desk, I felt lubed fingers invading my asshole. First one, then two, and finally three were stretching my sphincter. I winced, almost cutting off my own air as the rest of the chili oil seeped into every crevice, reigniting the fire in my asshole.
“Like beer?” she asked with a chuckle.
Alcohol was exactly what I needed right now. “Yes, please.”
Pam had something different in mind. I groaned as I felt the neck of an empty beer bottle slip into my burning asshole, the cold, hard glass a shocking contrast to the raging fire in my sphincter. The deeper she pushed, the wider my ass opened, and the more it hurt.
“Please, stop,” I begged.
She crushed my nipple between her fingers. “No stop.”
If she really planned to fuck me with that monstrous strap-on, the warmup was probably for the best. I panted and squirmed on the desk, the chain of my leg irons pulled taut, desperately trying to hold still.
Finally, she pulled the bottle out. “Good whore,” she cooed, punching her fist up my gaping asshole. It didn’t meet any resistance. “Now ready for cock.”
I would have been, if it were a real, normal-sized cock. She donned the strap-on and, without further ado, pushed the huge thing into my asshole, stretching it wider than even the bottle had. I groaned, tugging at my restraints, the rope cutting into my neck.
“You like, huh?” she asked, thrusting the dildo inside me.
Between the brutal stretch and the burn of the chili, what wasn’t there to like?