Refugees 2: The Survivor

  • Written by: Commander James Bondage


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Set in  post-apocalyptic  America, Refugees 2: the Survivor is the story of  Rhynn, the lone living human in the ruins of her city, New Bristol. The eighteen year –old girl is discovered hiding in the ruins of her home by a scavenging mercenary soldier, who captures her  and sells her to the cruel Master of Westgate. The Master, who has already enslaved Rhynn's friends Althea , Samantha and Katherine, now subjects the innocent, young noblewoman to the same merciless training he employed to break the others, to turn  her into his submissive plaything.




Rhynn returned to the Master's apartments that night, again accompanied by Althea. She had spent the afternoon being prepared for his bed.

Her hair had been washed, brushed and set, and it now flowed down her back in a wave of burnished chestnut. A flower was tied in it, tucked over one shell-like ear. Her lips glistened with wetly with pink lipstick and her soft brown eyes appeared even larger than usual under her long eyelashes and eyelids colored a delicate shade of violet. A subtle floral scent hovered around her and mingled with the natural delicious fragrance of her innocent girlhood. Her sole garment was a filmy robe that floated like a cloud about her slim, youthful form, hinting at and accentuating the slender curves of her body. Althea was as usual magnificently nude except for her slave jewelry.

Althea thought that Rhynn was the most charming girl she had ever seen. No man who saw her could fail to love her, she decided, not even the Master. She made such a delightful picture of youth and beauty that Althea could not resist the temptation to stroke her  hair and kiss her lightly on the cheek.

Rhynn was already nervous from thinking about the prospect of a night in the Master’s bed, and she jumped when Althea's lips touched her face. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "What was that for, Aunt Althea?"

The older woman smiled at her tenderly. "It's simply that you are so lovely, my dear, that I couldn't resist kissing you."

The innocent Rhynn looked at Althea with huge, entrancing eyes, reminding the older woman of a young fawn, both graceful and nervous. "Do you really think so?" she asked. "I only hope that I can please the Master. I'm so afraid that he won't like me. Do you think he will?"

"He will be mad for you," Althea assured her, patting her hand. "The Master knew exactly what he was doing when he bought you. He…" she stopped suddenly at the sound of the door opening, then straightened into position, with her chest thrown out, legs shoulder width apart, hands behind her head, eyes modestly downcast and Rhynn hastily copied the former Countess. The Master had returned.

The Master scowled as he walked slowly around the two women, inspecting them front, back and on both sides. He revealed no sign that he was pleased with anything he saw. He lifted his wife's sculpted chin with his riding crop until her eyes met his.

"Did you personally prepare her?" he growled, gesturing at Rhynn with the braided leather crop.

"Yes Master," Althea replied a little nervously. "I made her up, did her hair and selected the clothing she wears. I humbly pray my efforts have pleased you."

The Master looked the motionless Rhynn over again, slowly up and down. "She is…" Althea and Rhynn held their breaths for an eternity when he paused, "…adequate," he finished. Both women released tiny sighs of relief. "Come, both of you," he said brusquely. He led them to the bed chamber.

"You will get her ready for me, wife," the Master told Althea. "Get her juiced up with your hands and mouth, and make it a good show. I want her begging to be fucked by the time you're done, or you will pay the price."

"I will do my best to please you, my husband, as always," Althea said. She led the younger woman by her hand to the bed and motioned for her to sit on the edge with her legs dangling down the side. "Don't be afraid, my sweet," Althea whispered. “This won’t hurt a bit.” She slowly lifted the gauzy dress up from Rhynn's hips to reveal first, her smooth upper thighs, then her pubic mound decorated with a few chestnut-brown curls of hair. Althea gently pushed the girl back to lie on the bed, then knelt at her feet and gently  spread her legs wide. She leaned forward to open Rhynn's sex with her long fingers, stroking the tender flesh of the rosy labia, then kissing them, inhaling the scent of her already aroused womanhood. Rhynn shuddered a little when her girlish parts were touched, then sighed as softly as a dove, and relaxed when Althea's tongue slipped inside her.

Until this moment, the Master had been content to look on in silence. Now he snapped, "Get your ass in the air, bitch. You can beg me to whip you while you're working on that little vixen."

Althea glanced back at her husband. Her expression was flushed from a combination of fear and sexual arousal. "Thank you Master. Please treat me as I deserve." She said, tears starting from her eyes. "I beg you to punish me with your crop, my lord."

Rhynn sat up to watch the by-play between the Master and the former Countess of New Bristol.

"Do you get all wet when I whip you, Countess Bitch?" The Master sneered.

Althea hung her head in shame. "Yes Master, you know how much it excites me when you punish me. I cannot help myself, sir."

The Master responded to this admission by striking her across the bottom hard enough to raise a pink welt across both of his wife's fine hemispheres and make her to shriek briefly in pain.

"Slut! " he said. "You should thank me for being so solicitous of your perverted needs. Your limp-dicked first husband Count Bristol didn't know how you needed to be handled, did he?" He continued to beat her with the gleaming leather crop steadily as he spoke

Althea wept. "Thank you M…Master…ah! are…oh!...too kind. The…Count  ah!...never pleased me…ahh!... the way you do, sir," she stammered.

Satisfied for the moment, the Master halted the flagellation. "Good, now get back to work on that little whore. If you do a very good job, I may let you come."

Althea returned to her original task of arousing the girl, sliding her hands under Rhynn’s buttocks to pull her sex closer, and resuming licking and sucking her slit and love button with a will. As she did so, the Master tapped on the insides of both of her thighs, indicating that he wished the Countess to spread her legs apart. He then moved the leather crop up to slide through her sex. When he removed the rod, it was glistening with her  cream.

The Master regularly forced Althea to stimulate her Samantha and Katherine with her tongue until they came, which provided the Master with considerable entertainment and stimulation. Under the Master’s demanding training, Althea had become expert in the ways of arousing female flesh.

Rhynn was mortified that the woman she had so admired was being forced to service her sexually, and was disgusted and humiliated by  having a woman handle her so intimately. She did not see how she could possibly be aroused by under these circumstances. Nonetheless, it was not long before all thoughts of shame and discomfort had been washed away by the great wave of delicious sensation coming from between her legs, as Althea's tongue lapped at her stiff love button. The snap of the Master's crop cutting into Althea's flesh and the latter's cries of anguish soon faded into the background, along with everything but the overwhelming waves of pleasure produced by the wonderful, soft tongue that massaged her swollen sex so well. 

Suddenly she heard the Master's voice, as harsh as a stone, snapping her out of the haze in which she had been drifting. "That's enough, slut," he said. "We don't want her to blow too soon." He matched these words with action, reaching down to grasp a handful of Althea's golden hair and yanking it sharply enough to make her yelp as he pulled her off Rhynn.

He leaned over close to the girl, ignoring his wife, who sprawled on the floor at his feet. "Are you ready to serve me now? Are you ready to give me a good ride, girl?" The Master demanded, his eyes glittering with lust, his voice low and menacing.

"Y-yes, yes Master," Rhynn stammered nervously. "Pl…please let me…uh…serve you."

"Show me how hot for my cock you are," he demanded. "Put your fingers in your box, and show me."

Hesitantly, Rhynn reached down to the junction of her thighs to her sex. She spread her lower lips with two fingers and inserted a third. Rhynn felt a burning rush of blood to her cheeks as she displayed herself for the Master so brazenly and shamefully. She withdrew the finger and held it out for the Master's inspection, looking anxiously up at him for approval.

The Master took her hand, raised the proffered finger to his mouth, and licked. His jaw moved as he rolled the taste of her virgin pussy juice on his tongue, gazing upward thoughtfully as he savored it,  looking for all the world like a wine expert at a tasting competition.

"Not too bad," he said at length. "I do believe you are ready."

The Master opened his belt, unbuttoned his trousers and let them slide to the floor, then sank into a well upholstered wing chair, his erect cock pointing at the ceiling. He motioned to Rhynn. "Come here, girl. It's time."

Rhynn rose from the bed and walked as slowly as she dared to the chair, until she stood before the Master. She hesitated, uncertain about what to do next. Althea, still on the floor, but now kneeling, smiled up at her encouragingly.

"Well, what are you waiting for, bitch?" the Master snapped. "Do you need a little help?" He raised his ever-present riding crop, thereby banishing any doubts she might have had about what he meant by "help".

"Oh no, Master!" Rhynn blurted. "I just don't know what you want me to do. I…I've never …been with a man, Master." Her blush deepened.

The Master rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You really are an ignoramus, aren't you? Just kneel over me on the chair, with your knees on either side…" he patted the seat, "…and start working my cock into your pussy."

Rhynn climbed on the chair and slid into position with her back to the Master, kneeling over his lap, her legs spread wide and the head of his erect organ brushing her virginal nether lips. She grasped the shaft of his rod in both of small hands, and directed the fat mushroom of the head toward entrance to her sex. She marveled the length and thickness of his veiny meat pole. It was hard for her to believe that she had managed to accommodate this monstrosity in her slender throat without choking her to death. She had doubts about whether the whole thing would fit inside her, and she wondered how angry he would be, if she was physically unable to accommodate his great tool.

All this flashed through Rhynn's mind in an instant. Once she had mounted the Master's lap, she did not pause in her attempts to follow his command, trying to stuff his penis inside her virgin box.  She was not surprised to discover that her efforts were not good enough to suit him.

He signaled his displeasure by spanking Rhynn's exposed bottom sharply enough to cause her to lurch suddenly forward and cry out in pain. "This won't do," he growled. "Bring me a paddle, cunt," he ordered the patiently waiting Althea.

He took the proffered instrument  from his t wife and then told Rhynn, "Now you will show me how much you want your cherry broken, or I will show you how I'll break your pretty little ass." He struck her with the paddle, making a loud whap! Rhynn screamed.

The paddle was one of the Master's favorite girl-taming devices, second in his affections only to the riding crop. It was a round, inch-thick piece of oak with holes drilled through it and with a leather grip on the handle, which looked something  like an oversized table tennis paddle. It differed from  the sports equipment in that the business end was not coated with rubber, but was bare wood.

After the first blow from the paddle had left its burning impression on her left buttock, Rhynn closed her eyes and jammed her hips down onto the Master's tool with all her might. She shrieked as something inside her pussy tore and a sharp pain shot through her. It felt to her as if sandpaper was being used to smooth the interior of her sex.

"Please sir," she begged, "can we go slowly for just a little while? It hurts so much inside."

"I didn't realize you were uncomfortable, my dear," the Master said, smiling gently. "Go as slowly as you like."

As Rhynn started to thank him for this completely unexpected act of mercy, the Master raised the paddle again and swung it will all his strength down on her right bottom globe, producing a scarlet circle of agony on the soft white flesh. She screamed again and lurched forward, painfully jamming more of his length inside her irritated pussy.

He now began to rhythmically pummel Rhynn's exposed bottom with the heavy oak paddle, alternating strokes to her bottom cheeks, ignoring her pleas and cries of pain. Each blow made her clench every muscle in her body in pain including, to the Master's particular satisfaction, the ones that controlled her vulva.  As he beat his beautiful partner, her sex clutched at his cock delightfully on each stroke. Rhynn's pain was quite literally his pleasure.

As he continued to drive into the weeping Rhynn, he lectured her, matching his words to the strokes of the heavy wooden paddle. "Stupid bitch," he hissed, "you exist for one purpose: to serve me with your body (whack!). Do you understand that (whack!)? Do you (whack!)? Answer me, cunt (whack!)!"

The paddling sent Rhynn into a flurry of frantic activity. Doing her best to ignoring the horrid explosions of pain from the paddle and the tearing pain inside as well as she could, she leaned forward to impale herself on the Masters cock, concentrating on pleasing him and trying to answer his questions.

"Aahhh!...Yes, sir, I understand…eeeee!...please…no more, I'll…ahh!..." she gasped out as her virginity was brutally taken from her.

The Master lowered the paddle after delivering a dozen hard strokes which left Rhynn’s ass-cheeks glowing crimson and burning like the masses of hot coals they resembled in color. As she had feared, the Master's cock was too long to fit completely inside her, and she felt the head butt painfully up against the entrance to her womb at the bottom of each stroke. Fortunately for her, the Master found the sex so engrossing that he did not appear to notice that the last inch or two of his pole did not fit inside his victim.  

 "Good! Then start fucking me, you little whore!" He ordered.

This book was added to our catalog on Saturday 20 January, 2018.

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