Liam Smith drunkenly enters a raffle to house Shamima Begum after she's allowed back into the country, little knowing the Government plans to force a sexual relationship on them.
“Shit!” Was the first word Shamima had spoken in the last hour. We had hit traffic on the motorway heading back to my home city, moving excruciatingly slowly over the last 4 miles. I glance over at her, spotting the blob of burger sauce that had landed on the edge of her right breast and was currently headed quickly towards her cleavage. She scoops it up with her finger before licking it off and notices that I’ve been staring a little too long.
“I’ve told you about staring at my tits, white bastard!” Turning away from me and pulling her cardigan closed over her low cut t shirt with a loud huff. She was right, I had been told when she practically shoved them in my face leaning across me to bark her order at the McDonald’s drive thru we had stopped at so she could get food. In my defence, it’s been 12 years since I last had a pair of tits that close to my face and I couldn’t really avoid looking given how close they were. “Keep your fucking eyes on the road, asshole.” She barks at me and I look back to see the traffic starting to creep forwards again, only to stop after about 5 feet. As I stop behind the car in front I think back on how I got into this situation...
Three weeks ago Keir Starmer, Captain U-Turn himself, had decided to reinstate Shamima Begum’s citizenship with the tiniest amount of pressure from the ECHR, much to the country’s dismay and anger. The backlash that arose was so great that her own parents decided to disown her completely and putting her in prison, even in solitary, would be bad for her wellbeing with how hated she is. So this left a huge problem, what to do with her.
So they came up with a “great” idea, they would hold a kind of raffle, the winner would receive £1 million a year and be provided with accommodation, to live with and take care of her.
Pretty tempting, right?...
It turns out not.
In a stupid drunken dare from my friends, I entered my name on the government website. I mean, that kind of money would attract thousands of applicants, wouldn’t it?
Nope. I was the only one to enter. Not one of her supporters, religious extremists, no-one else in entire country entered. I “won” by default.
Over the last two weeks I attended a series of odious and boring meetings outlining how the set up would work, the time and date of her arrival, the pick up and asking me what expectations I had regarding her role in the house (which will come back to bite me later).
Two days ago I was shown the house, a lonely house in the middle of nowhere a few miles outside of the city. From the outside it looked pretty run down, the only new looking things being the bars on the windows and the fancy electronic locks on the front and back doors. Inside, on the other hand, was brand new and modern, with more fancy locks. I was given a brief tour and the security system was set up to only respond to me through retinal scans, fingerprints, breath and a voice sample. Then I was told to pick her up in two days time and bring her straight here. And here we are.
The traffic starts to ease and we make good time, reaching the house an hour later. Shamima snorts as she sees the house in the headlights ahead as I drive up the long, secluded driveway. “I have to live in this shithole? With a bastard white man? Are you fucking kidding me?!” she exclaims with exasperation as we pull up in front of the house. I get out and open the boot of my car, telling her to grab her suitcase whilst I unlock the door. Her attitude lightens ever so slightly when we enter the house, even a low whistle escaping her lips as she looks around the entrance hall. I notice her jump as the door closes and the many licks engage loudly, goosebumps appear on her bare forearms despite the warmth in the house. “Welcome to your prison, Shamima.” She mutters to herself.
I give her a tour of the lower floor, the spacious lounge with its opulent furniture gaining a slight smile from her and the kitchen becoming a particular favourite. I can’t help but watch the sway of her hips and the way her ass wiggles enticingly as I follow her up the stairs, admonished myself for thinking of this awful former terrorist in a sexual way but silently promising to have a good wank over the memory of that and her boobs later on tonight. I show her to her bedroom, it’s sparsely furnished with a simple dressing table and chair, a metal framed double bed that has been neatly made, an ensuite bathroom with a shower, and great big thick bars over both sides of the rooms windows.
She looks around the room, looking almost happy until she spots the metal and leather collar attached to the bed by a long chain on the floor. “What the fuck?” she snaps, glaring at me.
“I have to put that on you when you go to bed.” I tell her with a shrug. “Not my idea.” She scoffs, gesturing towards the bed. “Which side are you taking? Or do I choose?” she spits at me, with hate burning in her eyes.
“I have my own room.” I state bluntly, “You don’t think I’d want to fuck a vile bitch like you, do you?”
“Good.” She snaps. “I wouldn’t fuck an asshole like you anyway. Even if we were the only ones left in the world.”
I snort and turn to leave. “do what you want til bedtime, bitch.”
As I start to walk away a voice suddenly booms from a hidden speaker...
“Stop right there, Mr. Smith.” The sound loud enough to rattle the windows. “You’re not done yet.”
We both look around the room with shocked curiosity, searching for the source. “Miss Begum will now remove her clothing.”
“Fuck off!” Shamima shouts at the ceiling. “I’m not striping in front of HIM!”
“Non compliance will be punished. Strip. Now.”
“The FUCK I will.”
“Mr. Smith, attach the bracelet on the table to her wrist.” The voice orders me. “You will not resist, Miss Begum.”
She reluctantly allows me to slip the silver band around her left wrist and click it shut. “Stand back, Mr. Smith. Miss Begum, you WILL remove your clothing.”
“I FUCKING WILL NOT....” She screams and her body goes rigid as a large electric shock shoots through her from the bracelet.
“You will strip. NOW!”
She falls to her knees as the bracelet stops shocking her, tears of pain, anger and defiance run down her cheeks. “No.” She states weakly, stiffening as another shock hits her body, the strong smell of ozone fills the room. “ALRIGHT! ALRIIIIGHT!” She manages to scream through the pain and the shock stops.
Rising unsteadily to her feet, using the bed for support, she starts to take off her cardigan, tears running freely from her eyes. I try not to look, but as each garment is removed and more of her body is revealed I can’t help it. Her panties join the rest of her clothes on the floor and I take in her full nudity, her slim shoulders, the swell of her full and firm D cup breasts, the hint of abs that lead to a slight mom belly and the neatly trimmed landing strip of black hair leading to her pussy. Feeling my gaze she tries to cover her modesty, only for the voice to tell her to keep her arms by her sides. She looks at the floor, blushing as she feels completely exposed.
“Er.... why does she need to be naked?” my voice cracking as I ask. (Remember how I said it would come back to bite me?).
“You are going to have sexual intercourse.” The voice replies flatly.
“Fuck HIM?” Shamima scoffs. “Not a chance in...” She stops herself, remembering the shocks.
“I don’t want to fuck her!” I state with exasperation. “Why the fuck do you think I would?”
“Meeting 4, question 16. You’re expectations for Miss Begum in the house, what duties she will perform.”
“What about it?”
“You answered ‘the only thing she’s good for’. Therefore, as stated in paragraph 6.5 in the contract you both signed, Miss Begum will make her body available to Mr. Smith at least twice a day for his own sexual gratification.”
We look at each other, stunned, I can’t help dropping my gaze to the lips peaking out from the junction of her thighs or the involuntary twitch of my cock in my jeans. “I meant a share in the household chores....”
Shamima smirks and lets out a snort of laughter. “You fucking idiot! You absolute dipshit MORON!” She screams at me. Another smirk appears on her face as she addresses the unknown watcher. “I can’t fuck him twice a day, what about my periods?”
“During that time of your cycle you will provide gratification via oral and anal means.”
“Let HIM fuck my ass? Piss off!”
She falls to her knees screaming, another shock pulsing through her body. “You will comply.”
“Yes.” She states shakily, attempting to rise.
“Stay on your knees, Miss Begum. Mr. Smith, stand in front of her.”
I slowly walk towards her, stopping with her face pointed at my groin. “Miss Begum will now remove Mr. Smith’s lower clothing and perform oral sex on him.”
“Please...” She begins, stopping as the audible whine of the bracelet powering up starts. With tears in her eyes she undoes my belt and jeans, pulling them down with my boxers and letting me step out of them before tossing them aside. She looks at my mostly soft cock, then at my face with hatred in her eyes. “The thought of pounding my ass with this not good enough to get you hard, asshole?”
“Shut up and proceed, Miss Begum.“ The voice booms, making her jump. She tentatively grips my cock with her hand, it’s small size making my limp 6 inches look much bigger. She starts to stroke it slowly and it responds, growing to 9 inches long and 4 inches wide in her grip.
“Nice, I guess.” She says coldly before licking the head with the tip of her tongue, making my breath hitch. Running her tongue along it’s length and stroking it, she chuckles evily. “You know, I could grab it hard and rip it off...” She clenches her hand and tugs hard making a sharp pain shoot through me.
“Bitch!” I snarl at her through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to slap her face. The bracelet starts to whine again and she slackers her grip reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll play nice.”
Slipping her lips around my cockhead, she starts to swirl her tongue around my glans, a gasp of pleasure escapes my lips making her chuckle, the vibrations enhancing the sensations running through me. Her eyes, so full of hate, lock on mine as she begins to move her mouth over my shaft, taking it deeper with each bob of her head until it hits the back of her throat. Her gaze hardens and a sly smile spreads on her cheeks as she holds still with my cock half buried in her mouth, the smile fades quickly as the bracelet powers up and she resumes sucking my manhood with a huff, the controller guessing what thought had entered her mind. After a few minutes, the voice comes to life again.
“Deepthroat him.” The single command rattles around the room and she shakes her head, the vibrations from her muffled “Nuh huh” rippling along my shaft. “DEEPTHROAT HIM.” The sound waves physically hit us, the words deafening.
“NO!” She screams muffledly on my manhood, her eyes glaring at the ceiling in defiance.
Her bracelet whines louder this time, powering up for a massive shock and I do the only thing I can think of, I grab her head and shove it towards my groin, forcing my cock down her throat, making her choke and scream. She tries to push back against me with her hands but I grip harder, keeping my shaft jammed in her gullet.
“Just fucking do it, bitch!” I growl at her. “or we’ll both get shocked!”
She looks up at me with resignation, nodding gently. I release my grip and she slides her head back until just the head is in her mouth, taking a moment to steel herself before plunging forwards, taking it all the way in. Setting a steady rhythm and taking my manhood deep into her throat each time, she sucks me off like a seasoned pro, my orgasm building fast. The resignation in her eyes softening and making it seem like she’s actually enjoying herself, moans that sound almost like pleasure vibrate along my rigidity and I feel my seed start to rise.
“Shamima...” I gasp, looking into her eyes. “I’m gonna cum...”
“Cum in her mouth.” The voice orders flatly, a downtrodden look washing over her face. I feel my orgasm start to rush up my cock, hurtling towards her waiting throat. “Now!”
She pulls back until only my head is in her mouth, her tongue teasing the underside and I start to shoot my thick semen along her tongue, she snorts a little as I pump a large load into her, my semen mixing with her saliva as it fills her mouth.
“Do not swallow, yet.” The command rattles the windows. My softening cock slips from Shamima’s mouth with an audible pop and I step back slightly, panting. “Face the clock on the bedside table and open your mouth, Miss Begum. Show us his semen in your mouth.” She complies, a little of my cum running down her chin. “Now swallow.” With a grimace, she swallows, opening her mouth again to show that it’s gone.
“Now, get on the bed. Mr. Smith, sit in the chair by the dresser facing the bed.” We take our positions, looking at each other cautiously. “Masturbate, Miss Begum.” Shamima sighs heavily but starts to rub her pussy lips with her left hand whilst caressing her breasts and nipples with the right, tentatively at first until her body responds and she lets herself enjoy it, with reluctance.
She starts to writhe with pleasure, her fingers delving inside her pussy as her thumb rubs her clit, load moans escape her lips as she pinches her nipples and fucks herself vigorously.
As I watch her, my cock starts to grow hard again, standing proud and tall. She looks at it, then at me, gasping with desire and bliss. “I bet you want to bury that in me, don’t you? You want to shove that stupid white prick right inside and pump me full of cum, huh?” I can’t help nodding, the sight of her “beautiful agony” making me want to dive between her legs and pound her til she screams my name.
“Tough!” She spits, hate fucking her pussy with her fingers harder, her moans becoming squeals. “You might as well jerk it, you can’t fuck me. I’m not on birth control.”
I fight the urge to stroke myself, watching as she moans louder, panting heavily and writhing hard as her orgasm nears. Giving in, my hand moves towards my cock, gripping it firmly as I start to wank, my eyes fixed on the woman before me as she cries out in unadulterated pleasure, her orgasm hitting hard and making her body convulse crazily.
Her fingers slow as she comes down, her pussy a mess of juices that drip from her fingers as she raises them towards me. “Care for a taste, you bastard?” She teases before sucking her fingers clean. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”
“Mr. Smith, get on the bed.” Another order thunders through the room. I get up and remove my remaining clothes and approach the bed, Shamima covering her breasts and pussy with her hands, shaking her head.
“He is NOT going to fuck me!” She yells. “Shock me all you want but he is not putting that thing in me! NOT A CHANCE IN HELL!”
The shock is so powerful that it knocks her out, her body going limp on the bed. With a touch of concern I check her pulse and breathing, she’s still alive.
“Penetrate her.” The cold voice orders me.
“She’s unconscious,” I stammer. “it’s wrong.”
“Penetrate her or we will deliver a fatal shock and you will be tried for her murder.”
My Adam’s apple bobs as I swallow hard and spread her legs, positioning myself between them and put my cockhead to her entrance.
“Penetrate her now!”
“This is so wrong.” I grumble as I slide myself inside her soaking wet hole, the walls gripping my shaft hard in an attempt to stop my intrusion. Once fully inside her, I hold still and enjoy the sensation of a warm pussy surrounding my shaft, something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I gradually start to move, slowly sliding out until just the head is inside then pushing back in, slowly at first but gradually increasing the pace. My base needs take over, I fuck her still form harder and deeper, grunting lustfully with the effort and thinking “fuck it, why not?” as I start to pound her pussy, feeling it grip and undulate around me. I watch her breasts bounce with the force, leaning down i take a nipple into my mouth and bite a little harder than planned, drawing blood.
The pain from my bite must have sparked something in her subconscious because Shamima begins to come round. She stirs a little, her hands reaching for and rubbing her forehead, her eyes gradually opening until she realises what is happening and they snap open, pure bile in her words.
“Stop! You fucking bastard! Get the FUCK OFF ME!” She screams at me, trying to push me away.
“Shut the fuck up and take it, Bitch!” I growl at her as I fuck her harder, my cock punishing her pussy. “If we don’t do this, you die and I get the blame.”
“What?” She gasps as my pounding shaft pushes her towards an unwanted orgasm.
“That’s what they said,” I fuck her vigorously, mauling her breasts with my hands. “If we don’t fuck they’ll shock you hard enough to stop your heart and put me on trial for it.”
“Please, stop!” She begs me, her gasps of pleasure defying her words. “I don’t want this!”
“You prefer death?” I ask, slamming my hardness into her. “Fine, I’ll stop.” I start to slow down, the bracelet whines.
“No!” She screams, fear in her eyes. “Do it, fuck me harder! I Don’t want to die!”
I resume pounding her, she tilts her head to the side and I see the tears running from her eyes. “I don’t want to have to do this.” I whisper to her.
She cries throughout the whole thing, her tears soaking the pillow as my hardness brutally invades her tight, soaking hole. I finally slam into her one last time, pumping her full of my seed as she spasms in a reluctant orgasm around my shaft.
As we come down, our bodies slick with sweat, the voice booms again. “Miss Begum will now ride Mr. Smith’s penis.
Surprisingly, I’m still rock hard as I pull out with a wet, sloppy noise. She reaches down and scoops some of my cum that’s leaks from her hole with her fingers, examining it as it drips from them before punching me surprisingly hard in the chest. “I told you I’m not on birth control, asshole!”
“That’s your problem.” The voice states coldly. “Now ride him.”
She looks up with defiance but the bracelet catches her eye and her shoulders sag. “Lie down.” She barks at me with a huff. I lay back, my prick standing stiff and proud as she straddles my lap, aiming my cockhead at her entrance and sliding all the way down. She starts to move, sliding herself on me mechanically, her face blank and lifeless.
“Make it seem like you’re enjoying it, Miss Begum.” Booms from the speaker after a few quiet minutes and she starts to moan in fake pleasure, bouncing on me with more vigour.
“OH yes! Such a nice, hard white cock.” She states flatly. “It feels soooooo good.”
After a few more minutes her tone begins to change and her movements become more natural, the twitches and squeezes of her pussy muscles on my member betraying that she is actually starting to enjoy it. She leans her hands on my chest and rides me harder, genuine gasps and moans escaping her lips, her eyes looking at me with desire before she throws her head back and slams herself down me with an increasing pace.
“Fuck, yes!” She gasps loudly. “Fuck yes! Yes! Yes! YES!” She lets out a loud scream as her orgasm explodes inside her, her walls quivering and pulsing on my cock as her body convulses, a second long loud scream from her mouth confirming the realism of her climax.
Collapsing onto my chest, she pants heavily as small tremors of orgasmic aftershocks rattle through her. Without a thought I drape my arm over her back, holding her until her body stills and her breathing returns to normal, my cock still hard and buried deep inside her.
“How touching.” The voice comments with a perceivable smirk in it’s tone. Shamima opens her eyes and realises what’s happening, jumping off me with an annoyed grunt before half laying on the bed. “Don’t touch me, you fucking bastard!” She spits.
“Quite the show.” The voice continues. “ Now for the encore.” Shamima and I share a glance.
“He’s fucked me enough for today.” She growls defiantly. “Tell him to fuck off and leave me alone!”
“Not quite...” a definite smirk in the voice’s tone. “He hasn’t taken you anally.”
She glares at me, seemingly ready to fight to the death if necessary. The bracelet whines for the umpteenth time making the fight in her eyes turn to despair. “You assholes.” She mutters, getting on all fours. “Just get it over with.”
“Mr. Smith, you will follow our instructions to the letter or she will die and you will pay.” The flat tone orders. “Take position and prepare for penetration.”
I get behind her, touching my throbbing cockhead to her tiny brown starfish, making her jump. “Please,” She begs. “Be gentle.”
A new sound reverberates around the room, laughter. “That’s not on the cards, Miss Begum.” Regaining it’s flat composure, it continues. “Mr. Smith, you will penetrate Miss Begum without mercy, you will fuck her as hard as possible. If she is not screaming she will die.”
I see the terror on Shamima’s face as she looks back at me, her eyes begging me. “I’m sorry.” I mutter, pushing forwards and forcing the head of my cock hard against the tight ring of muscle. Shamima stiffens, tears already flowing down her cheeks as my cockhead forces it’s way into her anus. I’m pushing so hard that as soon as the head pops inside the entirety of my shaft follows, my groin smacking into her ass cheeks, an ear piercing scream fills the room as she grips the sheets so hard her knuckles turn completely white.
I start to thrust hard and deep, her screams and pleas falling on deaf ears as I grip her hips tightly and brutalise her asshole, it’s muscles pushing against me to try to stop my violation .
“Please! No! Stop! It hurts! IT HURTS! Gaahh! YOU BASTARD! FUCKING STOP! NO! YOU’RE TEARING ME APART!” Shamima’s cries and screams echo in the room as I thrust mercilessly into her. I don’t want to do this but I know I have to to keep her alive and myself free.
I grab her hair and pull her head back hard, her terrified tear streamed face contorting as I fuck her viciously, a small smear of blood mingling with the residual semen and pussy juice on my shaft. I feel my seed start to rise and somehow thrust even harder, animalistic grunts are the only sound in the room as Shamima’s eyes roll back in her head, the pain overcoming her senses. With a last hard, deep thrust I slam myself fully into her and start to shoot my load deep into her bowels, accompanied by a triumphant roar.
With the last of my seed secured deep in her ass I yank my cock from her and let go of her hair, watching emotionlessly as her limp body falls onto the bed and semen starts to leak from her gaping, ravaged anus. I sit back and my mind starts to clear, my heart sinks as I look at her laying broken on the bed, her body shuddering as she cries, her own senses returning.
I reach out to hold her shoulder in an act of regret and support but she slaps it away hard, a look of anger and disbelief on her face. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” Her voice quivers. “How could you?”
“I had to...” I stammer, trying to show her that it hadn’t wanted to. “I’m sorry...”
A sharp blow to the side of my head sends me reeling and I see Shamima holding the bedside lamp she just hit me with through swimming eyes. She drops it and bolts off the bed, headed for the door. I try to warn her but I can’t form the words as I see her run onto the landing then hear the crash as she hits first the wall, then the floor as the shock from the bracelet knocks her out, her momentum causing her to slam into the wall, face first. I stagger onto the landing and crouch over her crumpled form.
“Pick her up and put her on the bed. Then secure the collar around her neck and leave the room.” I do as I’m told, noticing a nasty black eye already forming over her right eye.
“What’s going to happen now?” I ask, dreading that they will make good on their earlier threat.
“We’re going to teach her a lesson. Clean yourself up and await it’s arrival.”
I freshen up and sit in the lounge with a large whiskey, it’s not long until the doorbell rings. I answer the door to see a large black man holding a sports bag that clinks heavily with a metallic sound when he puts it down. I can’t help but notice the very large bulge in his sweat pants.
I thought at first the subject was a bit lame and controversial, but the longer I went on, the more the story captured my imagination. I loved the way she was made to do depraved sexual acts, and the guy did the acts very hard and deep, causing pain. I know, at the end, the black guy with a bag full of things to torture her with was introduced, which sounds like another punishment adventure for her, but I think having a large group of men hung like Donkey's was there to teach her about more sexual deviant things, may be introduct a big breathing alternative, I.E farm yard occupant
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