Shipped to Morocco

An excerpt from Shipped to Morocco

Corrine fell on to her knees and slumped over the capstan. "No! Oh, no! Please!" she begged.

The slave master struck her across the back of the thighs a sharp blow. "Do it! Do it now!"

"Please, stop!" Corrine begged. "I'll do anything!"

"Now!" the man shouted.

The naked woman spread her legs where she lay, and the slave master slid his filthy hand up along her thigh and between her legs. He felt her soft lips and stroked them with his thick fingers.

"Please," Corrine sobbed. "Please, don't."

But the slave master spread her pussy lips and fingered her roughly, pushing up inside her until he found his prize. Slowly, excruciatingly, he pulled the long, smooth switchblade knife out of her warm cunt.

"You thought you could hide this from me? You bitch!" You struck her again, hard across the naked backside, and made her scream in pain and terror. Hard and angry came his blows, leaving strong, red welts on her naked, trembling flesh.

Then he stepped back and put aside his cane. "I've got something more for your cunt, my slut!" And he reached for his belt buckle.