East Coast Slavers Organization

East Coast Slavers Organization – I: A Caribbean Adventure

Chapter 22 – Amber Plans an Adoption (or Veronica Gets Her Divorce)

Aaron Clarke flipped his personal cell phone shut with a sigh and then slumped back into his seat. The call had been long and emotional. It had been Aaron's older sister, and only living close relative. Amber and Aaron were the only siblings as they grew up in the Clarke household and they bonded closely as friends. She was older than Aaron by five years and at thirty-five, she was nearly unhinged by her inability to have children. Bryon and Amber Gillot tried desperately to have children, but never succeeded in six years of marriage.

The couple had been cursed with difficulties in becoming pregnant, and then carrying to full term. First, it was her husband's sperm, then her uterine wall's inability to allow the fertilized egg to latch on. Finally, she discovered that her body would simply not accept a growing fetus and nurture it to term. This hardest lesson was learned as a result of a series of miscarriages.

Amber Gillot was afraid that she would remain childless. This was especially poignant for her as a child would have mitigated her loneliness in a foreign country. Her husband, Bryon, was French and the couple settled in Nice, France on the Mediterranean Sea. Their home was located not far from Monaco and the extreme southwest corner of Italy.

Aaron pulled a Pacifico out of his refrigerator and pondered her problem. He thought how unfair life was to deprive a couple so desperate for a child. It might have been late Friday morning in France, but it was five in the morning in Miami. Tired, and unable to solve his sister's problem, he returned to his computer and reviewed his expense and income worksheets.

--L--A--T--E--R--

Aaron's 'Robert Morgan' cell phone rang. It was Steve. He had a quick commission from a rich Egyptian that needed to be filled immediately. Aaron was the obvious choice because of his location.

Hosni Yassin was wealthy and owned and controlled the extensive operations of a Cairo-based construction firm. Hosni had recently established his first European office in Marseille, France. Given the difficulty of breaking the cultural barriers to fairly compete in the tight European market, Hosni needed an edge. His multi-story European headquarters building included several high-security floors devoted to entertaining special clients. He had a restaurant and chefs, beautiful guest suites, but tired of using the local escorts for his guests. He would pay Steve Austin $600 thousand, plus expenses, to deliver four general-purpose sex sluts. They could be untrained. Hosni would enjoy some personal involvement in breaking them for his use.

Aaron fit into the acquisition because late that same week, Hosni had a huge load of heavy construction equipment and building materials departing the Port of Miami for Marseille. Steve suggested that Aaron use the just harvested housewives that drifted too close to a huge southeastern United States drug organization and convert them to full-time sex slaves. Aaron agreed that they were the best candidates and once fired up, very enthusiastic sexually. He also suggested that Oscar's girlfriend, June Curl join the slaves bound for Marseille, France.

Steve also passed on that the tramp freighter Captain and his officers were prepared to take care of the four special passengers. This freighter, owned by a Greek shipping magnate, had run illegal cargo before for Hosni. Loyal and vicious, they would enthusiastically break in the new meat enroute to the Mediterranean Sea, a ten-day voyage by freighter.

Aaron hung up and thought about what to do about the fourth slavegirl slot. He could always throw in the virgin Barbara Michaels. The decision about what to do with his most sexually innocent captive had haunted Aaron. It was already Monday and the ship set sail in exactly five days, the next Friday night. Aaron had some decisions to make.

--L--A--T--E--R--

It was now late Monday night, just barely twelve hours after Steve Austin's call about Hosni Yassin. Aaron smiled as he remembered the fun he had with Sophia Lenz and Rochelle Grosso in the British Virgin Islands (B.V.I.). The two girls enjoyed Michael Moore's (the persona that traveled to the B.V.I. and met the girls) twisted sense of humor and sex drive. The fact that he appeared to be rich was a true bonus to the greedy, part-time whores.

Aaron's daydream was interrupted as he reached the front of the line he had been waiting in and a bored car-rental agent beckoned him forward. He was at the Detroit airport.

The dangerous part of his current plan was three-fold. First, it was hastily concocted and motivated by revenge. Second, he would be exposed to possible capture during his forced drive back to Miami if the authorities caught on to his role in the planned abduction. Lastly, he couldn't bring much of his special gear with him because of his air travel. Aaron had chanced bringing his taser and some syringes filled with tranquilizer and some of Doctor Kay's amnesia-inducing drug, all secured in his checked luggage. He could show a prescription for the syringes. If the taser and bondage toys were discovered, he would attempt to bluff his way out of the situation. There was no finesse in this plan. It was a quick and brutal solution to a number of challenges that he faced.

The rental agent confirmed, "Mr. Robert Morgan with a one-week, one-way rental to return at B.W.I." Aaron confirmed the rental information, presented his Robert Morgan identification, and drove away with a nearly new, oversize SUV.

Outside of Detroit, Aaron stopped for a late dinner and a last chance to review his plan. Later, he folded down all the back seats of the van and changed into black trousers, shoes, and a charcoal pullover in the cramped space of the SUV's interior. He placed his fake license plate covers over the vehicle's Tennessee tags and then pulled down the block from the seedy truckstop diner and pulled into an adjacent all-night adult bookstore. Aaron spent a lot of money on cuffs, chains, whips, ropes, gags, and much more. He then resumed his journey toward the suburb containing the residential neighborhood that he knew so well. It was now midnight.

Aaron parked two doors down at the curb in front of a home currently vacant for much of the summer. Aaron Clarke knew that the older couple was at their Mexican timeshare. Veronica, his wife, had complained of being stuck with picking up mail and arranging lawn service, tasks that Aaron had done frequently for the friendly couple. Veronica was resentful at filling what she considered an unpleasant duty and had bitched about it in a recent phone call. No pleasantries took place in the strained, and one-way, conversation. "Veronica certainly reverted to a first-class bitch," Aaron lamented as he parked.

No dogs were on his old street. Aaron simply slipped through the backyards to his father-in-law's home and silently opened the door with his house key. He set down his heavy bag and crept into the kitchen. The house was quiet and dark; both Ralph and his daughter were asleep.

Ralph slept in the guest bedroom, allowing his spoiled daughter to have the master bedroom. Aaron paused outside a bedroom door, readied the taser in his gloved hand, and took several slow, deep breaths. He slipped through the doorway, focused on Ralph's sleeping form, and fired the heavy twin electronic darts into his chest. Ralph convulsed a little as the weapon discharged through the lead wires, and then he settled down. Aaron rolled the heavy man onto his plump belly and quickly tied his hands and ankles. A ballgag and a shot of Doctor Kay's magic elixir in his ass, and Ralph was taken care of.

The bound and helpless man was left on his bed while Aaron quietly glided through the dark home toward the master bedroom. He grinned evilly thinking of the rude awakening that Veronica would have over the upcoming weeks. Her next few hours would be particularly distressing.

Veronica had to be conscious during the scenes to come; so, keeping the reloaded taser handy in his left hand, Aaron approached the bed and the sleeping woman. Unlike that night months ago, when he raped Veronica, she was sleeping on her back. The covers had slipped down to her waist, exposing the sheer baby-doll top she was sleeping in. Even in the dimly lit room, he could see her prominent nipples through the lacy top. Veronica let out a quiet snore and then started breathing quietly again.

Aaron had no misgivings about his plan for Veronica. She had given him nine months of sexual bliss and then two years of shrewish hell. The fact that she reverted to her prior bitchy behavior after proving herself capable of normal behavior, was the final straw. Her behavior since their separation had remained nasty and unacceptable. She deserved this.

With a last lingering look at her beautiful facial structure, Aaron clenched his right fist and struck her a mighty blow across the chin. He then plunged a ballgag into her mouth and strapped it into place. The insensate woman was dragged off the bed and onto the carpet. Aaron bent the woman over, wrapped white cotton clothesline around each wrist, and secured it to the inside of the matching ankle. He next tied each elbow to a thigh, leaving the woman with her legs lewdly spread open. He pushed her facedown in the carpet, her g-string covered pussy pointing toward the ceiling. Her baby doll top fell down covering her face. All her weight was on her chin, bare tits, and her two knees.

Unneeded for the moment, Ralph was thrown down unceremoniously on the opposite side of the bed. Aaron left the two bound and helpless captives on the carpet and left to do two quick errands before he sat down to enjoy the fun.

First, he crept silently into his two-year old daughter's room and looked into her crib. The toddler looked angelic, sound asleep with her blonde tresses spread out on her coverlet. Aaron carefully injected Laurena Clarke with a specifically measured dose of tranquilizer. She would sleep safely for about twelve hours. Michael gathered his daughter's diaper bag, toys, and clothes and left them in the entry hall for later on.

Next, Aaron rummaged through Veronica's closet for her video camera and some 8-mm tapes. He brought the equipment over to a corner and set up a tripod with a good view of the master bed. A new Polaroid camera and ten packs of instant film were set on the dresser for use later. The scene was set, much like that used against Ingrid Gaviard and Connie Baxter. Blackmail and evidence were key components to a successful plan.

Aaron closed the bedroom shades and turned on all the lights in the room. Her own camera captured a clearly terrified Veronica. The camera circled to get a full picture of her exposed position tied over a barstool from the kitchen. Aaron also zoomed in on her drooling lips stretched tightly around her red ballgag. Carefully keeping out of the scene, Aaron flicked a horse lunging whip again and again toward her exposed flesh. The video screen clearly showed a man tormenting the nearly naked and bound woman wearing nothing but her a ballgag and heels along with the white bondage rope holding her in place. Veronica's tormented face and the drool around the ballgag indicated the unwillingness of the poor woman. A few strokes of the whips heavy tip squarely struck her pussy folds, eliciting a strong quivering response from Veronica. Her exposed position afforded no privacy or protection to her lewdly open body. Aaron set down the video camera and switched over to the Polaroid camera. The flicker of the flash and whir of the camera, ejecting picture after picture, were harbingers of doom for Ralph Morton and his daughter Veronica Clarke. These prints, and many more of other scenes to come, were set aside to incriminate Ralph as a torturer of his daughter.

Next, Aaron pulled her baby doll top and thong panties back on. Veronica was tied ass upthrust and face down to the floor. This time, he yanked the thong crotch strap aside to expose the pink pussy folds. Her sparse blonde curls did little to hide her pleasure cleft. A little more video work and her new sluttish look was recorded. A riding crop was added to spice up this scene. The meaty splat of the leather patch at the end of the swishing crop striking tender flesh, followed by the muffled squeal of pain and outrage, were wonderful effects for the camera.

Aaron teasingly cut off her top and panties before moving the sobbing woman to lie belly down on the master bed. Unable to move beyond some sexy wiggles, her ass was quickly forced high into the air by some pillows jammed under her taut tummy.

This time, Aaron held a monstrously large fake cock in his one hand and the video camera in the other. Unable to see him and recognized her fate from her face-down position, Aaron centered the behemoth cock on the unsuspecting blonde's pussy. The flesh-colored dildo had veins like a real cock, but thickened to at least three inches across, and was easily sixteen inches long from bulbous tip to the base of two tennis-ball-sized fake testicles.

Aaron leaned all 205 pounds of his muscled form into a single downward thrust of the monster into her unprepared cunt. Veronica wriggled and howled into her gag. The camera moved up her side and captured her continued screams of agony as well as the tears and snot streaming down her face onto the bed sheet below. A close-in focus of the camera recorded her pussy lips stretched paper thin around the big cock. Its diameter was easily as wide across as a soda can.

The Polaroid camera was mounted on the tripod and focused at Veronica's tortured pussy. Aaron took an identical outfit to what he wore from his bag and manhandled Ralph's limp body until he was dressed. Ralph was slid; face up, under Veronica's tortured cunt. Aaron started a sequence of Polaroid pictures. Between each, he moved Ralph or Veronica's body, posing them with a variety of bondage devices in hand, cunt, or ass.

Ralph clasping a dildo going in her ass, … Click.

A rope tightly torturing a breast, … Click.

Ralph's face covered by a swollen red breast, … Click.

A black gloved hand clasping a full breast, … Click.

Aaron threw Veronica down on the floor behind her loveseat in the den. Veronica resisted his efforts to change her clothes until he slapped her hard, three times. Then, she meekly allowed him to dress her in whorish red lingerie. Veronica was then tied down, delectable ass up, to the back of the overstuffed chair.

Veronica was a wet dream to behold. Red 'fuck-me' heels, red crotchless panties centered on her reddened ass, and a matching bra with huge nipple cutouts. A red ringgag completed the outfit.

Aaron changed tapes and spent considerable time circling her body and its obscene position on the sofa. His gloved hands mauled and tortured her jiggling ass cheeks, her swollen and tender vaginal lips, and her dry puckered ass. The video and Polaroid camera captured everything.

He set down all the recording equipment and took off his pants and boots. His gigantic cock was readied at her sore pussy and his cock head, with a dab of lube glistening on its tip, rested against her ass grommet. Aaron teased her holes, letting her know what actions would follow. Despite his need to punish this woman, his throbbing cock and the lifeless dildo were each eased simultaneously into her holes. He wanted this moment to last. The hot, tight rectum clasped at his dick as her shrieks of pain mirrored her reaction to his other ass rape, so many months ago.

Aaron Clarke grinned as he doubted that tonight would generate any climaxes for the tortured woman. Like the first night they met, Aaron pumped his jism deep into the woman, she was clean and untouched sexually since their separation. His cock was only the third one to fuck her. At least that many would fuck her again and again on her long boat ride to southern France. She would be an accomplished whore by then.

--L--A--T--E--R--

Hours later and after doing several more scenes throughout the house, Aaron logged onto Veronica's computer and opened their family mailbox. He double-clicked on a message that appeared to be just another piece of spam. The message read:

Ralph,

We agree with your last asking price. The bitch and her brat will be picked up immediately from your home. Midnight is our arrival time there. You will be our second pick-up of the night. $15 thousand for the bondage cunt and $10 thousand for the kid. As agreed, the baby will be sold off to an adoption agency. Any profits over the $10 thousand will be split with you.

Stop by our club anytime you're in the windy city. The slut will live out her dreams of B&D and S&M. - - - - Snake

Aaron printed the message and left it on Ralph's dresser along with the Polaroid prints and 8-mm tapes. Two pictures were scanned and mailed back to the Yahoo mailbox. He grinned as he added $10 thousand in cash to the evidence he was planting. The e-mail message was a nice touch. He had used an internet kiosk on his layover at the Indianapolis airport to open the Yahoo mail account with bogus information and then drafted the fake message to Ralph. This way, Aaron's conscious did not have to carry the burden of murdering his father-in-law.

--L--A--T--E--R--

Aaron Clarke was just hours away from Miami. He had driven non-stop since dropping Ralph off in Detroit. He congratulated himself on a smooth plan and flawless escape. Ralph was left drugged outside a trendy nightclub. Several thousand dollars in cash, incriminating photos of Veronica being tortured, and one hundred grams of cocaine from the dead Miami lawyer were planted in his pockets. To be sure an ambulance and police were called, Aaron notified a group of couples leaving the club about the unconscious man. He waited to be sure their cell phones were used to get help for the stricken man. Content that his plan was going according to schedule, Aaron drove away grinning.

Ralph Morton would soon be in serious trouble.

Aaron saw a high-rise interstate sign advertising a truck stop at the next exit. He signaled his intent to exit and pulled into the large truck stop to check on his passengers.

Laurena was still soundly asleep. Her diaper was wet again and it was easily changed. Aaron set her back into her car seat and turned to check on his other cargo. Veronica was in tight bondage, but fairly comfortable given the length of the ride and the circumstances. She was naked of any article that could be called clothing except for her favorite g-string, hose, and garters. Aaron's favorite wide leather waistband secured her elbow cuffs tight to her sides and her wrist cuffs were clipped together in front of her belly button. Each hand was encased within black leather bondage mitts. Veronica was laid on the SUV's floor, face down. Her ass was yanked high in the air by a nylon line running from her wrist cuffs, down between her legs, through her cunt cleft, and up to a heavy-duty clothes hanging bar mounted across the SUV's ceiling. The rope was tight and her swollen cunt lips protruded outside the narrow panty thong deeply buried in her cunt by the line.

Aaron slipped beside her and stuck his face down by hers. He grinned down at his now very much ex-wife's face and quietly taunted her, "Hey, Veronica, how ya doing here?"

Veronica's eyes reflected her fear and uncertainty. Her face was mashed onto the slimy carpet, wet from her own drool, tears, and snot. "Ullp heee," she groaned in gag speak through her ringgag. "Ummmm horrry, hease, ullp heee."

"Help you? Veronica I don't care how sorry you are now. It's a little late for that. Besides, you should be happy. When we first got together, you never admitted how much you loved being dominated. I'm gonna give you a chance at true happiness and a new occupation. You are gonna be a fulltime bondage slut. That means you will always be as you are now, helpless and ready to fuck. Your new master will give you plenty of practice in the high-class corporate whorehouse where you will live with several other, much more privileged hookers. Enjoy your new life, cunt."

Aaron left her and resumed driving east. Veronica's wondrous ass swayed gently as the big vehicle ate the miles up between her old life and her new one. She could feel the scratchy carpet burning her sensitive nipples and breast meat as she swayed with the vehicle. If she pushed her wrists down toward her ass, the rope loosened slightly until her hands tired and returned to her waist. Then, she discovered that this made the rope saw slightly across her cunt, scratching her clit. As the miles and hours slid by, Veronica's crotch began to gleam from the accumulated pussy foam of her arousal. After each orgasm, she would rest and then began again the difficult task of sawing the rope across her cunt, fighting for the stimulation that would bring release. After countless orgasms, and hundreds of miles, she finally slipped into exhausted sleep.

Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com

Please consider an e-mail with your opinion on the story.

Alternatively, consider using the BDSM library review option.

Story ideas are also welcome.