rickshaw-slave
NON CONSENT STORIES

Rickshaw Slave

Rickshaw Slave

by roderic1974
16 min read
4.43 (14800 views)
adultfiction

The two rickshaw slaves sweat beneath the burning sun overhead, guided through the winding, narrow market streets at the behest of the guiding lash held by their owner and mistress. Though not an uncommon sight in the slave wards of Al-Kadim, to a fresh captive like Nadine, nothing about her new lot in life was quotidian. What was unusual was the identify of their owner, a young, mysterious and unveiled woman from far afield; indeed, aside from being unveiled, her public outfits typically left little to the public imagination, consisting of thin sheer pieces of cloth draped around her chest and hips. As for Nadine herself, she was a nubile, neophyte adventuress (or at least, a "former" adventuress she reflected bitterly), who fell victim to her now-owner's girl-lure trap in the jungles surrounding the city. A slave hunter by trade, Nadine's master plied her skills to make a small fortune for herself in the cutthroat world of Al-Kadim.

Nadine had no idea who the other captive was, having been gagged since her enslavement, save for when her mistress saw fit to provide her with water or flavorless slave gruel for sustenance. For that matter, she had no idea what her new owner's name was, as she typically treated her captives more like livestock or sexual toys than as people, it was rare for her to utter anything to her slaves other than barking orders.

Nadine had to admit though, being livestock had its benefits for her figure. Nadine was a fresh adventurer, and did not yet have well-developed muscles, instead roaming the countryside with a slim, girlish runner's build; with that in mind her mistress had put her to work primarily as one of her new rickshaw drivers. The drivers were kept absolutely bare naked, save only for their leather gags and an iron collar and chain leash that hooked them up to the rickshaw rig. While there were plenty of similarly nude slaves, both fellow rickshaw pullers and other slave laborers throughout Al-Kadim, Nadine still had not gotten used to running nude through a city in front of hundreds of strangers, while being chained and whipped like an animal, nor could she suppress her shame (or deep down, her flushed arousal), whenever a few bold punters decided to cop a quick feel of slave flesh as they passed by.

Their master's tight schedule in the city when not in the field hunting slaves kept them pulling at a speedy pace. The rig was simple, yet effective, a bar with two pairs of handles with shackles, designed for two female slaves to work in tandem to pull their owner and whatever cargo she needed moved. The devious aspect to the rig was the "coupling prongs" on either end- the pull bar was ergonomically designed for the phallus-like prongs to slip into the enslaved pussies of its pullers. In addition to humiliating the slaves, the prongs also served the purpose of letting the slaves know of subtle shifts in direction or slope of the road; without needing to say a word to each other, the slaves could feel deep in their most intimate parts of their bodies what the road expected of them.

Indeed, as the prong quaked within her enslaved pussy, Nadine flushed a deep crimson and let out an involuntary, high-pitched moan through her gag, and she had to admit it was a gratifying aspect of the rig as well. Not only did the natural up and down motion of the pullers' gait push the prongs in and out of their enslaved pussies, but every bump or crack in the road, and every individual cobblestone groove of the city street sent electrifying waves of pleasure up to the prong and through to her pussy. Nadine and her fellow rickshaw slave were coming to know the streets of Al-Kadim like they would the most intimate of lovers; hell, as she was still a young and inexperienced woman, the street could make her cum harder than some of the fumbling young men she had slept with as a free.

While she resisted her new owner at first, bitterly and futilely fighting against her shackles and leash, after only three weeks of slavery Nadine found she was quickly breaking. The unfailingly tight strength of her bonds and the submissive and sensual heat of her subservience to the coupling prong could not be overcome. Already, rather than dreaming of a hopeless escape, she had instead come to awake in her kennel each dawn in the hopes of getting to feel a slave's orgasm while pulling the rickshaw out in the streets for her mistress later in the day.

Not only was her owner a skilled huntress, but she was an expert in breaking the wills of her new slaves as well. Nadine's mistress was a maestro with the rickshaw reigns, keeping her slaves at a hard pace, squeezing as much effort out of them as she could, while also taking care to avoid rougher patches of road or to not move too fast. She had found that the most submissive slaves, the serfs most eager to please were those who were habitually denied release. She could read her slaves like she would a market ledger; in Nadine's flushed cheeks, fluttering eyelids, and curling digits, she could tell that she could tell that she had outdone herself, and that in record time, Nadine would quickly fall from a young adventurer to a nude and sensual work serf. As she extracted as much sweat and pussy juice from her laboring slaves as possible, Nadine's owner made sure that they would constantly be kept on the brink of climax, but cruelly denied their release.

Nadine's chest began to flush as she edged closer and closer. She silently cursed her mistress- they were in the new quarter, full of smooth roads and flat terrain- neither Nadine nor her slave sister would find release here. As they continued, pulling and gasping onward, Nadine stole a quick glance at the slave brand of her fellow captive in front of her on the rig. As a fresh slave, captured in adulthood, Nadine wore a humble, and plain simple "S" brand on her inner thigh, denoting her lack of training and overall poor quality for anything other than menial labor. Her partner had a brand toward her rear left hip, in the shape of a rose with an "X" over the top- the symbol of a royal concubine, and an "X" denoting her being barren. Although they had never spoken, Nadine could tell that her slave sister was different from her- likely born into slavery, never knowing freedom or even the feeling of wearing clothes, she was cast out from her life as a pampered slut due to a "defect" of her body that she had no control over. Now, neither slave had any advantage over the other, condemned to labor in chains and sensually submit to the whims of their masters for the rest of their days.

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Nadine's slave partner had been lashed to the rickshaw rig for longer than her; Nadine wondered if she had any favorite districts to pull through the city. Although Nadine had only been a rickshaw serf for a brief while, the historic market district was her favorite: an aged street full of cobblestones and cracks in the pavement. Her cheeks flushed and her pussy juiced as each individual tremor in the earth would send vibrations up to the prong. Crowded and claustrophobic, the historic district tended to attract a large number of bold regulars too, who had few compunctions with getting a feel for the local slave girls. As Nadine and her partner would pull through the historic district, Nadine would thrill at the electrifying touch of men's hands brushing against her soft, beige skin, cupping around her breasts and pussy, tweaking her nipples, or gently circling around her enslaved clitoris.

Just last week, their mistress had taken them through the historic district, and just before Nadine could reach her slave-climax at the unrelenting ministrations of the road, her mistress stopped at an apothecary shop, locked the rickshaw to a stand out front and walked inside. With disappointed moans of sexual frustration, Nadine and her partner felt the sensations in the prongs subside. Fortunately for Nadine though, her owner didn't care about punters having fun with her toys, so long as they did no permanent damage, so as Nadine and her partner waited, the men in the market played with their still-chained bodies. While nudity was no taboo in Al-Kadim, and slaves were forbidden clothing of any kind save shackles, collars and chains, fucking in public was still illegal. The men had to content themselves with groping, licking and kissing the bodies of the chained women. Having been on the verge of orgasm and cruelly denied by their mistress, Nadine and her partner squealed and flushed when they felt the leering eyes and warm skin of her assailants hands. Many hands grazed Nadine's bare skin, with a few questing hands squeezing her nipples, or feeling the juicing dampness between her legs, the men laughing at the invasive coupling prong lodged within her enslaved pussy. Some of the men even tried to shake or lift the rickshaw rig, causing the prong to move within the slaves, drawing forth involuntary gasps and moans from their captive playthings.

Then Nadine saw a nearly naked man- bearing a common "S" brand on his front, left hip, a collar and chained shackles like herself, he was pulled forward by a chain leash held by his presumed owner. As animal instincts took over, Nadine glanced down at the slave's crotch, and saw that his member was cruelly encased within an iron cage. Nadine saw a pained grimace on the slave's face, and realized that at the sight of her and her partner's nude, flushed and juicing bodies, his slave cock must have been trying to grow within the unrelenting confines of his cage.

"Here Kasim, a reward for good behavior," said the clothed man holding the leash, "I'm not letting your sin out, but I know you have been locked away toiling in our family kiln for many years, and have not yet felt the flesh of a woman since you became a man. Go ahead, and feel this one, feel her soft body, and marvel at how her slave pussy juices at your touch."

With a deep blush and without a word, the slave reached out for Nadine and began to clumsily feel her up. While she had certainly had better lovers before, there was something about the desperation and the camaraderie of their shared plight that endeared her to this fumbling young fellow slave, and she blushed a deep crimson herself as she looked at his handsome face and felt the warmth of his hands brush against her heaving skin.

The other men backed away to observe the spectacle, and Nadine felt a surge of submissive heat as she realized she would be the public, sexual plaything of another slave. While she would have felt deep shame and humiliation at this prospect before her enslavement, she instead felt deep arousal at the spectacle of her predicament; helping matters was her attraction to the slave, pale skinned, muscular and rugged, he was her kind of man. Though he was deeply inexperienced, he was the kind of slave boy she wouldn't have minded purchasing for her own and "breaking in" as a new sex slave back when she was a free, had she been able to scrap up enough coin on her adventures.

Though her wrists were still shackled to the rickshaw rig, Nadine longed to feel and grope the slave boy's biceps, chest, back and ass; she had hoped to grow muscles of her own someday as an adventurer, and found them deeply erotic in a man. She moved her hands forward the few inches she could, the tips of her fingers grazing his hips, and jutted out her chest, so she could feel what she could of his muscular torso. For his part, the slave boy responded with an embrace, likely the first bit of human tenderness he had ever experienced, as based on the words of his owner, he was likely a born slave.

The slave couples' embrace grew more and more arousing for Nadine, as the boy's questing fingers worked over her body; unable to speak, and clearly dealing with an inexperienced partner, Nadine would lead him on by gasping every time her boy's loving fingers found an erogenous zone, and would sensually moan every time he found one of her favorite spots on her chest or around her pussy. The sounds of the female slave also elicited much excitement from the crowd, who while filled with mirth over the young boy's inexperienced groping before, soon grew more encouraging and offering advice to the young slave buck.

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Unable legally, or with the cage, physically, to have sex, the couple had to content themselves with their strained, bound groping. For her part, Nadine felt an even deeper flush of eroticism as she realized the "rod" of her slave boy, though still cruelly caged, was now standing at attention at a right angle, and she could make out a small amount of pale fluid leaking out of a hole at the tip of the cage.

The boy's adventurous fingers finally found her clitoris, and as he began to trace light, repetitive circles around it, Nadine's eyes rolled back in her head, her toes and fingers clenched, and she let out the most sensual moan her gagged mouth could create. Fueled by the feedback, the slave boy continued his ministrations, gently circling around her love mound, or tracing slow lines up and down or side to side across the surface of her enslaved clitoris. Nadine had completely lost control, panting and moaning to the feel of his touch, she began to pump her legs up and down, pushing the coupling prong up and down in sync with his groping hands, while also trying to rub her chest and belly over his strong muscles, getting as much of a feel for the hard, strong flesh of her new lover as she physically could. The surrounding men laughed at her debased behavior, from a young, free adventurer, Nadine was now acting like a rutting slave bitch in heat, a dirty piece of fuckmeat being put through her paces in broad daylight. Nadine didn't care though, the feel of this slave boy's fingertips on her enslaved clitoris combined with the coupling prong in her juicing love hole completely overwhelmed her. Finally, the boy's head leaned forward, and through her gag, kissed her deeply on the lips; that did it, and in full view of everyone Nadine let our a shrill shriek and moan as she came harder than she had ever cum before.

"That's enough!" Nadine heard her mistress bark as she emerged from the apothecary. "Get away from my property!" she yelled as the men quickly dispersed. "Stupid, slutty she-beasts," her mistress yelled at her, as she flicked her slave-whip across Nadine's exposed back and ass. Nadine could never get used to the electrifying pain of the slave-whip, and as she cried out at each stroke, her mistress edged closer, and began to lash her pussy.

"Don't think I didn't see you cum hard for that simple slave-buck, slut!" her mistress cried out as she continued to rain blows across her enslaved pussy, "You wildgirls I catch out in the jungle are all the same, needing to be civilized- this is what you get for cumming like a piece of back alley rapemeat!"

Tears streamed down Nadine's face as her owner tortured her poor, enslaved pussy. Her last 10 strikes were aimed squarely at her clitoris, and though the pain was indescribable, Nadine felt an electric surge on each hit. At the tenth hit, Nadine's body was struck with a micro-orgasm, which after her ordeals on the street, she was no longer capable of holding back. As her cheeks flushed, her toes curled, and her eyes rolled back, her mistress smirked, simply said "Slave-slut," and gave her a final hard whack across her ass, before climbing back up onto the rickshaw and whipping both of her slaves across the back to get them pulling forward again.

"Forget about him, fuck-meat," her owner cruelly remarked, "from now on, those prongs are the only boyfriend you're ever going to get."

As they left the historic district that day, Nadine remembered passing her nude slave boy lover one last time. Briefly exchanging glances and blushing at the memory and evidence of their shared intimacy, still dripping out of their enslaved genitals, Nadine saw the boy mouth the words "I love you," toward her, and her heart dropped at the thought that she may never see him again, and even if she did, they likely could never spend any intimate moments alone together.

Snapping back to reality, Nadine and her rickshaw partner gasped as they continued down the road. As the streets turned to cobblestone, Nadine's pussy pulsed with pleasure as the tremors surged through her aching, juicing body. Her breath quickened and her cheeks flushed with the sheer eroticism of their labor, but her heart skipped a beat when she realized her mistress was taking them back to the old historic district.

"Maybe I'll see Kasim again after all," she thought, and with a knowing smile, her mistress whipped her and her partner across their bare asses to pick up the pace. The thoughts of potential reunification and the tremors of the road conspired to finally destroy any resistance to slavery she still held. Nadine the adventurer was gone, and in her place was a nameless rickshaw slave, juicing in her rig at the thought of seeing her lover boy slave once again.

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