Feature Writer: Nesfdancer (

Feature Title: Black Widow Of The Orient 1

Published: This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005. Please don’t remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial “free” sites, or in the “free” area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.

Story Codes:  Femdom, Pedo, NC, Rape, Drugs, Asian

Synopsis: Ms. Fung enjoyed Thailand very much. She had been very successful this year, and felt business was going to be good. She bought Meagan as her own and “leased” her to her sister’s brothel in Bangkok. It was a good business investment. Last she saw of her she was kneeling in front of a white sex tourist, dressed as a “little girl,” making her owner money.

Notes: Feedback welcome at “” let me know what you liked or didn’t! Confidentiality respected. I would be happy to hear from you. This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life.

Black Widow Of The Orient 1

Ms. Fung had worked for Beijing Export Ltd. for twelve years. It specialized in all kinds of hard to get western commodities that fetched a high price in the Far East. One of those commodities was young flesh. Not street kids, but the kind that usually made the television news. It was a risky business, but very profitable, and there was a never ending demand for product. Not all sales went to the East, some clients were in Europe and the USA, but mainly they shipped to Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore, and Thailand.

The company had branches in many different countries, and owned several useful businesses such as modeling agencies and clothing stores. Girls that paid with their parent’s credit card left all kinds of useful information, like address, and phone #. Of course, the new craze in retail was to have client profiles, where they asked you all kinds of personal info, to keep tabs on your shopping habits. That info was also very useful to would be abductors. Very useful indeed.

Ms. Fung had started as a street level pimp with ties to organized crime in Hong Kong. She endeavored to make herself useful to those higher up in the food chain, and she quickly found she could do well for herself in recruitment. She immigrated to the USA legally with the help of the company, and now she worked mainly on the west coast. She was Chinese, thirty-five years old, 5″ 4″ tall, with a slim build, narrow waist, and nice sized breasts.

She had long black hair and long red painted fingernails. She always dressed conservative and clean, so as to not arouse suspicion. She looked every inch the rich, oriental lady she was, confident and well spoken, with a very good command of English but with an unmistakable Chinese accent. She could pass as a business lady or anything else that was required. She could go out as a total slut of course, but that was almost never required.

Her current assignment was the manager and sole operator of a small dance clothing store, World of Dance. It was necessary for her to work alone, since her real business was anything but above board. The store was located in a suburb of Los Angeles and was a modest size. It was located in a more run down part of the neighborhood, off the beaten path, but it advertised heavily and had very good prices.

The competition often wondered how they could be so competitive and still stay profitable. Well, it was easy when you sold flesh for fifty to one hundred thousand dollars a pop, and were backed by organized crime. As a result, word of mouth amongst the dance community spread, if you were on a budget, World of Dance was the place to go for clothing.

As a consequence, business was good enough to attract enough prospects. Like flies to the flame. Of course the store had some unique design features. It had three change rooms, one of which had a double door, the room was also sound proofed and had a hidden camera that was monitored from the front desk by a popup laptop pc, that was not in view normally.

The front door could be locked with a remote switch or via a cell phone command, and had a neon sign that read “closed” when activated. The main lights would also dim, making the store look closed in seconds. It had a security camera with a cheap VCR, but alas, the tape would be unusable to police if they ever looked at it. What a shame, yes officer, we will get that fixed right away. No, she saw nobody fitting her description in here today. Pity, missing you say?

In the back, to the right of the stores room where products were kept was a door that led to a small room with a large wooden cot and blanket. There was nothing else save the hidden camera. It was used to prepare the merchandise, and in case of a search, was also a small storage room and employee washroom. Nothing suspicious.

The “capture rooms” door swung out to the hallway in the back, but it was only feet from the cot room. In the event of a search nothing would be left that would look out of place. The capture room’s door would appear as if it was normally locked, and not used as a change room at all. Instead it would pass as the back office of the shop, where a cabinet was placed, and a few chairs. Nothing to see.

In the cot room was stored the dark tools of Ms. Fung’s sordid trade. A locked cabinet with needed supplies that included a weighted leather sap, also knows as a “Cosh,” which was made from a bag of BBs stuffed into a leather bag, tied off with a long leather handle, it weighed about two pounds. Half a dozen 1cc syringes, a spoon, water bottle, surgical tubing, and an ounce of street heroin, ampoules of morphine, a bottle of diethyl ether, and three pairs of rolled black socks for dousing.

It also had a bottle of cheap vodka and orange mix and Tylenol 3 in a bag, twenty pairs of assorted pantyhose, a ball gag, a nine millimeter Beretta, and three pairs of handcuffs. A mask for the victim was not usually needed. Ms. Fung believed in being prepared, and any target had to be considered separately as to the best approach, and she needed things in case plans went awry, which they sometimes did.

The store also had a non-descript brown van parked in the back, a 1987 GMC. Its passenger seats were removed and had a plain disposable mattress in the back, a tank of nitrous Oxide laughing gas, surgical hose and mask, nothing more. It could be scrapped quickly at the companies drop off auto shop. The entire operation could be shut down in fifteen minutes, and Ms. Fung would be off to another town, after a few weeks. She had a dozen fake IDs and could leave the country if things got too hot. She also had a black Cadillac for transport and sometimes work as well.

She also had the job of mobile scouting, which quite simply was driving to various locations and picking up a victim at their residence, or somewhere else. Sometimes targets would also cross her path. She had the services of several company men who could do work for her, heavy lifting, driving, cleanup, whatever she needed, but she preferred to work alone. She was always on the prowl for a young girl, or boy, because they all made her money, as they always had. They were fawns in the forest, and she was the hunter.


Ms. Fung was driving her black 2001 Cadillac on a warm summer day near a strip mall when she spotted a pretty girl working as a waitress in a family restaurant. She had on a red and white uniform that consisted of a long sleeved red and white dress that came down just above her knees. Ms. Fung parked the car a block away and went inside, making sure she changed tables to get the girls section. She had a closer look as she served other customers.

She was quite a catch to look at, probably sixteen years old, 5″ 2,” one hundred and ten pounds, Caucasian, with shapely calves. She had on a pair of seamed white tights and black velvet flats with the buckle over the foot. Her serving dress had a tight blue belt that accentuated her very small waist. Her hair was black, and short, she wore red lipstick and blue eye shadow, and just a hint of blush. Ms. Fung was sure she got tipped very well by the men who ate here. Yes indeed. Like many prospects though she knew the odds were not with her.

There were boyfriends and parents who picked them up, all kinds of obstacles, but it never hurt to have a quick recon. She noted the store hours, and figured she probably worked 4PM to 10PM, when the place closed. Her name tag read “Alyssa” as she came to her table. Ms. Fung noted the pert breasts she had, the size of grapefruits, she was the essence of budding maidenhood. Alyssa crossed her leg right over back and smiled at Ms. Fung.

After ordering tea and a toasted bagel, her waitress sauntered back to place her order. Ms. Fung was an expert in hosiery, and noted Alyssa was wearing tight pattern white fishnet tights. They looked opaque from a distance but up close you could see they had the X pattern on them. She smelled wonderful, and had big brown eyes. Ms. Fung was also a lesbian rapist, and she had a hard time not staring at her server. The hardest part of his job was not fucking the merchandise, because more often than not, they were supposed to be delivered untouched. Maybe not all virgins, but as yet unbroken. She thought of the black, expensive, ten-inch strap-on dildo in the car. She was getting wet.

After eating, she parked across the street in a dark spot, and waited to see what fortune would play out. She had not aroused suspicion. She was dressed in black four inch pumps, a black below the knee skirt, cream nylons and a black top. She looked very conservative and proper. For a procuress of girls. The restaurant emptied out at 10:25PM, Alyssa had on a brown jacket over her uniform but was otherwise dressed the same as she walked south towards a main street. Ms. Fung could not believe her luck, there was no pickup for her.

She watched as Alyssa took a side street one block down. Ms. Fung drove past her, and parked a block down. Alyssa sat at a bus stop and waited. There was another woman and a man there as well, all three boarded the “Number 545” bus. It went past, she could see Alyssa sitting in the right side, by herself. She decided to risk it and hung behind the bus a few blocks, trying not to lose it. The bus made a right turn at an intersection just as the light went amber. Damn, she probably lost her.

She followed, turned right, and to her shock almost ran Alyssa over as she sprinted across the residential street. Ms. Fung braked and swerved, and kept on driving. Alyssa looked a bit scared, but didn’t notice the driver. Ms. Fung knew where she got off after work, and she drove on past, watching in the rear view mirror. The young girl walked past a large yard, then disappeared, presumably to her apartment complex that was there. Perfect.

Ms. Fung came back after midnight and took a look at the area that her prey walked past. It was the large yard of a two story house with a hedge and a gate. It had a three foot open area near the neighbour’s fence where a person could wait in the dark on the other side of the hedge. It was not perfect but it was close enough. Alyssa would not get a chance to struggle.

Ms. Fung waited until the next night to see whether her girl was working, and she was. She then drove and parked her car across from the hedge opening. Alyssa would pass along the passenger side as she walked past. Ms Fung got ready for her. She was dressed for the night in a black, long sleeved danskin unitard, black runners, black leg warmers and a black sweater.

Hair in a scrunchie. She had her supplies with her, and the trunk was ready with a blanket and pantyhose. She had prepared a 1cc syringe with enough “H” to send a sixteen year old girl as high as a kite, and she had her cosh club ready. At 10:45PM the bus drove past and Alyssa got out. As before she was wearing her red and white work dress, white tights, and pink runners this time and her brown jacket and purse. She walked casually down the street to where Ms. Fung was waiting. There were no other people on the street. It was a go.

As Alyssa walked past Ms. Fung slipped out and swung the leather cosh with both hands. There was a loud “WHAP!” sound as the naive girl was concussed from behind. Her purse dropped to the pavement as her head flung back. As she staggered forward she put one hand on the Cadillac for support, the other hand went to her head.

She moaned softly, “Uughh, oh my God …” and yet … stayed up.

She dropped both hands on the rear bumper of the car, just for a moment, trying to get her bearings, completely stunned.

Ms. Fung waited for just the right moment, said, “Here is your tip, my child,” and cruelly swung again.


The young girl was “nailed” right on the top of her head and she sank to her knees without a sound, hands at her sides. She flopped over to the sidewalk next to the passenger rear door, her shapely legs splayed out as she lay unconscious on her side. Her white tights gleamed in the streetlights, she moved one knee up, but then nothing. Sounds of gurgling. Ms. Fung swung the passenger door open and grabbed the hapless waitress by her arms. She got in first and pulled Alyssa into the gleaming black Cadillac. Her fate was cast.

Inside the car she laid the girl on her stomach and rested her head on her lap.

She stroked the girl’s hair with her long red nails, and said to her softly, “Soon you will be a women, my pretty thing.”

She produced the 1cc syringe from her belt pouch and rolled up her right sleeve. She then continued the dirty work of injecting her with the heroin. First, the spoon was filled with water, then a small envelope of brown “H” was emptied into the spoon and mixed. The spoon was heated up and the contents drawn into the syringe. Surgical tubing was wrapped tight around her upper arm, then, she found a vein. Ms. Fung had done this hundreds of times.

The syringe went in, she drew blood, and then withdrew the tubing. The heroin was slowly injected into the helpless girl as she laid moaning and slobbering in her lap. She kicked suddenly a few times as the drug hit her brain, and then she vomited on the backseat floor. All too easy.

Normally she would not use H on a girl for capture but she wanted to test the quality of the shit, as she might need it later, so that was that. The girl’s runners were removed as was her jacket. Her dress was pulled over her head and she was left in the back seat in just her bra and tights, a small blood spot on her arm. Ms. Fung drove to a deserted spot a mile away, near a park, and finished the job. Alyssa was knocked out cold by the time they got there.

She was deposited into the trunk and tied up with pantyhose. Ankles crossed over and tied, tied at the knees, wrists tied around her back and her items were thrown into the back and the trunk was closed. Ms. Fung made a phone call to “Mr. Big,” who told her to drop of her merchandise at a prearranged spot out of town.

An hour later, she watched with wicked satisfaction as Alyssa was picked up in the arms of a big Chinese man, moaning slightly, restless anew, and carried to another van. She would be knocked out with Sodium Pentothal for her transport, and sold to a rich client for big money. At five percent Ms. Fung got a five thousand dollar bonus for her capture. A fine sum for two days work. She would have given anything to see her highly prized virginity taken, before being drugged regularly by her pimp/owner, but she had other business to attend to.


Back at the store a girl pedaled up to the front door. She looked maybe fifteen. Ms. Fung gave her a big smile as she walked in to the waiting web. It had been a slow week, the last good prospect, a twenty year old girl, had come in with her mother, it was too complicated to do them both. This little prize would be it if she was alone. Her name was Lorrie, she was a fourteen and a half and had long blonde hair tied in a scrunchie. She was Caucasian, 5′ 1″ , green eyes and ninety pounds with budding breasts. She was wearing hip hugger blue jeans, a blue long sleeved sweater and a belt.

She had some lipstick on with just a hint of blush and dark eye-liner.

Ms. Fung just nodded and said, “Let me know if you need any help.”

“Okay, thanks,” Lorrie said, a little shy.

She was browsing the more expensive unitards, some flesh/tan colored, some black. She also browsed the tights rack, which had dance and fashion tights for all ages. Ms. Fung noticed she had a great ass. She kept her cool and flipped through her fashion magazine. She needed to get her into the change room to do her.

“We have a great sale on tights this week, let me know what you might like,” Ms. Fung said hopefully, with a becoming smile.

Lorrie looked at a pair of tan colored eurotard brand tan tights, full footed.

“There is no price on these,” Lorrie said, holding the package up.

“Oh, yes, the eurotards are on sale, those are only 8 dollars this week, I have several pairs you can try on, they are a great buy,” Ms. Fung said.

“That’s not bad,” Lorrie said, “I thought they were about fifteen bucks.”

“We got a big shipment in, so we are pricing those to move, do you need them for dance or for an outfit?” Ms Fung asked, and she moved out from behind her desk, herself dressed in a rose colored ballet dress with tan tights, and canvas slippers, looking very nice indeed.

She glided towards the unsuspecting girl.

“For a new dance class, okay, I will try a pair on and see, oh and I will try on a leotard,” Lorrie said.

“Oh fine, you need to use the change room here, for privacy, hold on,” Ms. Fung said, “You don’t need to be shy, the room is locked and private,” she added with a smirk.

She came out of the back holding a pair of tan tights and a long sleeved pink leotard with crotch snaps for the girl.

Lorrie took them into the change room, guided to the right one by her soon to be assailant. Ms. Fung turned on the monitor and went outside to get the girls bike. She brought it inside and switched the “closed” sign on, locking the door and dimming the lights. She watched Lorrie strip off her sweater, blouse, jeans, panties, and socks and sit down on the bench via the hidden camera. She put her shapely calf into the left leg first, rolling them up like a practiced dancer puts them on.

In no time she pulled up both legs and was resplendent in her tan tights. The tights were a thick denier 60 with a reinforced toe and crotch. She then eased into the leotard and snapped up the crotch. She pranced around looking at herself in the full length mirror. She had beautiful long legs, melon sized breasts and a shapely ass. Ms. Fung went through the back and got her supplies. She could use the ether as this wasn’t a quick street grab.

Ms. Fung went to the back of the double door and opened it, holding an ether soaked pair of socks in her hand. Lorrie turned and looked surprised.

“What is that?” she asked in a small voice.

She was the vision of loveliness. Ms. Fung said nothing, just lunged at her, spun her around and clamped the soaked socks to her face, covering her nose and mouth while holding on to her slim waist.

“NO, NO, No!” Lorrie sputtered under the rag.

She kicked wildly and flung her arms as Ms. Fung held her in an iron grip, looking at her captive in the full length mirror. Ms. Fung smiled as the young girl sucked in breath after breath of the sweet ether. They danced the dance of the white slaver, Ms. Fung’s favorite ballet.

“Breath in deep my child,” Ms. Fung said with an evil look.

Lorrie was getting very weak, her legs were numb, she was floating, and she could feel the talons of her captor holding her tightly. What was happening to her? She saw a pretty young girl in the mirror that looked just like her being knocked out by an evil looking Chinese ballet mistress, could that be her? She slumped to her knees, her eyes fluttered, then closed.

Ms. Fung clamped the socks tightly to her face, giving no mercy for the child. She removed the cloth and looked down at Lorrie. Her head flopped over, she was heavily overcome by the noxious fumes. Her lipstick was smeared off on the socks. She had some drool come out on the corner of her mouth.

Her arms were limp. She was out. Ether does not keep someone knocked out for long, not like in the cheap B movies, and Ms. Fung knew she had to act decisively to finish her capture. Another five thousand dollars was coming soon she thought. Ms. Fung let the girl drop to the carpet with a thud. She lay still.

Ms. Fung picked her up and flung her over her shoulder, carrying her to the cot room where she laid her down over the spread wool blanket on the cot. She went back and collected her things, and put her bike in the van. She made another phone call, but was shocked to find that “Mr. Big” had the heat on, and was taking no deliveries for another week.

Well, fuck, Ms. Fung thought, if she wasn’t sold she was let go, that was policy. Letting them go is a very expensive process, and means shutting the store down, and moving, possibly leaving the country. Dammit, she thought. Ms. Fung called another number, “Derek the Dike” a local lesbian whore master who traded in street girls.

At least she could get a few dollars and ensure that her latest acquisition went missing for long enough to buy her some time. She might get five hundred to one thousand dollars for her, they didn’t pay much but they were there when you needed them. She told them two hours, and she would be by with her cargo. They needed a girl for the corner, apparently some high grade H had over dosed a few of the regulars in Derek’s stall, and she needed talent soon. Bills had to be paid.

Ms. Fung went back to the cot room and looked down at Lorrie. She was semi-conscious and lying on her back on the cot. Her right leg was draped over the side and her arms hung down. She looked very tempting. Ms. Fung decided there and then to break her in, she would be a whore to be sold. She knew that she was probably a virgin. First thing was first, her cherry needed to be popped.

She went to work. The first thing she did was pull her scrunchie out of her hair and let her blond locks drape free. She tied her wrists together with nylons behind her back, then rolled her supine again. Her ankles and knees were tied the same way. She poured a glass of vodka and orange in a glass tumbler and took a Tylenol 3 and waited for Lorrie to wake up.

Lorrie gradually opened her eyes and said, “Where am I? What, what do you want with me?” she was still very groggy from the ether.

Ms. Fung said, “You need to drink now, do as I say.”

And with that she held the girls nostrils shut and forced the tablet into her mouth as she fought to breath. The vodka was spilled down her throat, and she was forced to drink. After two more drinks she had consumed enough to make a fourteen year old blasted.

Ms. Fung left the room to change, when she came back twenty minutes later, her hair was flowing freely about her shoulders. She was dressed in thigh high slut boots and a red spandex top, and red fishnet tights that came with a hole in the crotch, and a ten inch double ended black dildo strapped to her cunt. Lorrie gasped when she opened her eyes and noticed her.

“Oh my God, what is that thing?” she asked slowly, her words slow and unsteady.

She was smashed.

“Your special day is here, my sweet,” Ms. Fung said as she untied the girl’s legs.

She spread out Lorries gossamer tan legs over either edge of the cot, and produced a pair of sharp scissors. The snaps of her leotard were first, then she pulled up the material of her tights and cut out the cotton gusset.

“No, oh no, not that!” she protested weakly.

Her budding maidenhood was now exposed.

Next came her bra. Ms. Fung pulled at the elastic material of her leotard, and expertly sliced the front and shoulder of the bra, which was then pulled out. She cut a section of leotard and pulled it down to expose her right tit. Lorrie protested “please stop that” she said in a fearful tone. Ms. Fung sucked on her exposed breast and nibbled and licked her nipple.

Lorrie moaned and squirmed.

Ms. Fung then knelt at the foot of the cot and drew Lorrie to her with her arms and positioned herself so the girl’s sex was at the edge. Ms. Fung looked hungrily down at the drunk teenager and lowered her lips to the crack of her almost hairless cunt lips … she licked, and she sucked, smacking and wetting Lorries budding pussy with her expert tongue and full red lips.

Lorrie bucked and kicked weakly, but she was too smashed to do much resisting, her arms still bound behind her. She got her first tongue washing from her rapist and she was overcome with fear and helplessness, yet part of her was soothed by the sensation the forbidden act was giving her now wet crotch.

Ms. Fung kept Lorries legs apart easily, the girl was no match for her, drunk or sober. The sucking sounds continued as Lorrie bucked weakly and her assailant buried her tongue deep in the girls snatch. The edge of the cut hole in Lorries tights were wet with saliva, and her “teacher” kept up the onslaught.

“Oooooohhhh, no, no, huh, aghh, aghh, god no, no, no!” Lorrie squealed, but to no avail.

Ms. Fung’s crotch was now on fire. She went up on her knees and probed the young girl with the tip of her black war spear.

Lorrie bucked and cried, “Oh my God! No! I’m not old enough for that, I’m just fourteen, please,” she begged.

With that Ms. Fung withdrew, and showed Lorrie a bottle of sex lubricant. She ripped off the top and splotched a huge gob of it on the tip of the massive dildo. She then applied a large amount to Lorrie’s cunt lips, letting it ooze down over her thighs.

“This will ease the passage of my love tool,” she cooed to the girl, “Don’t resist.”

Ms Fung positioned herself at the entrance to Lorries forbidden love hole and pushed in.

“Nughhhhhhhhhh, ughhh oh God!” Lorrie squirmed.

Ms. Fung had aimed well and the shaft had gone in deep into the helpless girl. Now she would have her triumph.

“Now I must have your maidenhood!” Ms. Fung cried, and forced the huge phallus past Lorrie’s barrier.

Lorrie screamed as her hymen was ripped away. Lorrie bucked and kicked, the pain was intense, despite the drugging. Her inexperienced cunt lips were unable to fully react to the plunging shaft as she was impaled by the Chinese whore master.

“PLEASE NO!” Lorrie cried, tears streaming down her bright cheeks.

“The pain will subside my child,” Ms. Fung cooed icily, “Now you will be ridden.”

The dildo was pulled out of the shocked teen and re-plunged into her broken depths. She was bucked back and forth on the cot as her cunt passage was violated to ruin. The wet, smacking sound was accompanied by the straining sound of the cot as it was strained on its wooden legs with each thrust.

Ms. Fung hoped the cot would not break. Minutes past and the rapist was brought to orgasm.


She screamed and she gradually stopped her deep probing. The slick dildo was slowly drawn out like a huge stained snake from Lorries impossibly stretched twat, smeared with virgin blood and sex grease. Lorrie had passed out. The deed was done, she was broken in.

She pulled off Lorries ruined, stained, tights and replaced them with a fresh pair of black DKNY ballet tights after wiping her greased cunt down to clean her up. Rape was so messy sometimes. She had deflowered many, many girls and never tired of the thrill. She changed, came back to the cot and threw Lorrie over her shoulder. She went out to the van and put her in the back. Her knees were retied with pantyhose to ensure she was immobilized well enough.

The booze and pills would keep her subdued for awhile, she wasn’t going anywhere fast. Lorrie was conscious but numb, moaning in the back of the van. Ms. Fung quickly cleaned up the store and drove to the meeting place where Derek the Dike had arranged.

At the meeting place Derek, a mean looking sixty year old fat hag with grey hair in a bun and blue jeans and a mans work shirt, pulled her out of the van, slapped Lorrie a few times to get her attention, and made her hobble over to a waiting four door sedan. Lorrie, still only dressed in black ballet tights and a pink leotard with the crotch snaps undone, could hardly make the six feet. Her golden hair hung tangled and she was covered in sweat.

Her young breasts were wet with perspiration, and the thin material hid little of her globes, the right one still exposed from the cut of the garment. As she got to the open passenger door Derek took out a syringe and asked Ms. Fung what she had been given.

Ms. Fung informed her of her newly found womanhood, and that she had been forced to drink booze and pills before the trip. Derek nodded and stuck the 1cc syringe of morphine in Lorries left butt cheek.

“Somebody help me!” she cried out, and was then roughly shoved into the back as the young dancer started to get dizzy.

Her “new” profession was not far off, and there were customers to satisfy. Ms. Fung drove away, satisfied as to her trade, pleased she made one thousand dollars from the now ruined girl.


Nicole was in Hong Kong, in of the Beijing Trading Ltd. companies high end whore houses. She had been in the States only a weeks before, a very precocious and popular grade eleven student in a west coast high school. Her journey to the Far East was a hazy and confused memory. She was in a cargo hold with a dozen other girls. The hold was setup like a small barracks with six six cots on each side, a small table at one end for meals, and there was a dingy toilet in another room close by.

They were all originally hooked up to anesthetic I.V. drips and were brought to consciousness not long after sailing. She was sick through most of the voyages first day. Their original clothes had all been removed and replaced with a very simple wardrobe of red soccer shorts, white cable knee high socks and a cheap, red long sleeved cotton blouse. They had no bra or panties. They all had a necklace around their necks with either a large A, or a B on them. She had no idea why. Hers was a B, she hoped that was good news. Most of the girls looked between thirteen and eighteen years old.

The handlers were all oriental women, one to each girl, most who did not speak very good English and their favorite way of communicating was by pointing, yelling in Chinese or Vietnamese, or slapping them. They were not bound as the cargo hold was very secure, and they were allowed to talk and move about the hold. Once a day they were escorted to a shower, and they had an hour above deck, to exercise under close supervision if they wanted to, before being brought back to the dingy hold.

They looked like some bizarre version of a junior high soccer team. One young blonde girl was being led back from the upper deck clothed in a blue gymnastic leotard and glossy white tights and white knee high gym socks. Maybe they ran short of “uniforms” on the voyage? She didn’t know. The girl in the leotard caused a ruckus and was dragged back to her bed within a few minutes. She bucked and fought the I.V. and was slapped a few times to subdue her, in minutes she was rendered unconscious by an ether soaked rag, and then sodium pentothal drip, and covered with her blanket.

Apparently she was a troublemaker, but that was soon fixed. The head minder yelled at her underlings, obviously angry over the incident. She knew the girls name was Katrina, as she spoke to her at the meal table one day. Katrina was sure that they were being held for ransom, as her father was a rich California lawyer, but other girls had much darker theories.

One girl remembered the Chinese lady coming into her room in the middle of the night and making her breath in something in a rag that knocked her out. Another remembered sitting alone at a bus stop after school where the Chinese lady had stuck her in the thigh with a needle. About half of them had similar tales. On the sailings tenth day, they were given no food, just diet Pepsi. In the early morning hours, each girl’s I.V. was reconnected and they were rendered unconscious by the sodium pentothal drips.

Next she awoke, she was in a van, still dressed the same and being driven along a winding back street in some large city that had a lot of Orientals. She was alone in the back, securely bound with duct tape. She was carried into a large building and deposited into a solitary room with a large bed, a small bathroom, and a table and chair.

There was a single window that looked barred, with thick frosted glass. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was untied and allowed to recover for a few days. She noticed a small camera that was mounted in the upper corner, and was warned by the fat ugly man that carried her here that she would be used to fuck horses on film if she tried to cause any trouble, or escape.

She was terrified of the prospect, and did not cause any trouble. Was she being held for ransom? Her parents were not rich. She thought perhaps they had mistaken her with some rich couple’s daughter? She tried to tell her minder on the voyage about the mistake, but she never replied to her questions.

The last memories of freedom for her were her attending her high schools country themed costume dance. She had gone as Daisy Duke (the television show) and was dressed in a red and white check shirt, tied just above her belly button, very tight cutoff jeans, and glossy, thick smoky tan nylons and cowboy boots. She was a brunette, and let her hair flow loose around her shoulders. She overdid the lipstick and makeup and looked very cheap, which is what she wanted.

She was waiting in the parking lot of the high school with a crowd when she noticed her mothers SUV pull up on the roadside and blink the lights at her. She waved goodbye to her friends and walked over to the SUV. When she got around to the passenger side the door was already open but instead of her mother there was a Chinese woman, dressed all in black.

She stopped and said, “Oh, I’m sorry I have the wrong van.”

The next thing she remembered was being hit over the head with something, and dragged into the vehicle. It was moving away on the road within ten seconds and she was lying on her back in the back of an SUV with this familiar looking Chinese woman, her head hurt very much, and she was confused. In her state she managed to remember where her captor?, was from. It was the store she bought the nylons from, World of Dance, they had a great sale on and she got her nylons there for two dollars.

The lady was very chatty and asked her all kinds of questions. Her mother, who was with her (which really pissed off Ms. Fung), paid by credit card, also buying a new skating dress for her daughter, and two pairs of skating tights. She remembered telling her about the dance and that she wanted thick pantyhose to go with her outfit. Her mother disapproved, but bought them anyways.

Of course Ms. Fung got her address and phone number, and was able to acquire a duplicate SUV that matched exactly her families, that, wouldn’t you know it, was held up in a minor accident with a stupid Chinese pizza delivery driver (in a Beijing Export Ltd. car). Nobody was hurt thank heavens, but the man drove off after arguing about who had caused it. Her poor mother would be thirty minutes late to pickup her daughter, when she arrived, she didn’t find Nicole, who by that time, was destined for a new career in Hong Kong.

Originally Ms. Fung had flagged Nicole to be a “A” which was a slave to be sold to a high bidder, but there was a shortage of western girls at the brothels, so Nicole went to being a “B,” which only brought Ms. Fung two thousand dollars, but it wasn’t bad for a nights work, and Ms. Fung had already received seven thousand five hundred dollars for a twelve year old cheerleader who had been silly enough to ride her bike to the shop last week, just as Ms. Fung was closing up.

“Oh yes,” she had said, “Come on inside, we are always open for more business.”

So there Nicole was, groaning on the floor of the van as her assistant, Mr. Cho, drove to the designated drop off spot. Ms. Fung first slid off Nicole’s cowboy boots, savoring her long, nylon covered, coltish legs as they dropped back down after the boots had been removed. She then turned on the nitrous oxide and the bottle let out a hiss. She preferred gas if it was a long drive, and tonight it was. Nicole managed to sit up on her elbows and looked around her, her head ached terribly.

Ms. Fung wrapped an arm around the girl’s neck and brought the mask tightly up to her mouth and nose, after quickly brushing aside her unkempt hair. Nicole inhaled the medicinal smelling laughing gas.

“Breath in the perfume, my sweet, there is no escape,” Ms. Fung told her deliberately.

“Hmmmghhfff!” was Nicole’s best reply, drowned out by the hissing sound.

Nicole realized what the gas was for, and her heart raced, she kicked her legs around in a frenzy and grabbed at the mask to dislodge it but her captor was too strong.

Ms. Fung regretted not binding Nicole’s arms, but she usually didn’t get this much fight from a sixteen year old girl that had been whacked out cold by a sap. Not that it mattered, the child would be hers soon.

Ms. Fung groped her captive’s breasts, feeling their plump mass. Nicole started to feel light headed. Why was she making a big deal about all this? Was she being driven home? She didn’t think it was all so bad now, and she was feeling so good and tingly. Her legs felt all rubbery and loose, like they were somebody else’s. Her head didn’t hurt anymore. Why was she dressed in nylons? Her legs looked so funny in just nylons. She giggled and tried to touch them but her arms wouldn’t work. Who was this lady and where did she come from? Nicole was eased back down on the floor of the van.

She was so tingly and floating now. The lady’s face was all fuzzy looking and she didn’t care anymore where she was. Her brain was nicely soaked in laughing gas. Nicole saw the lady slide her cutoffs down her legs and off, it was all so dreamy. The lady’s long red painted fingernails massaged her private area, that felt so good.

She let out a final, “Ggulllmppfhh,” and her eyes closed.

After molesting her captive through her pantyhose Ms. Fung rolled her over and tied her wrists with pantyhose, then rolled her back over again, and bound her shapely legs the same way, at the ankles, and knees. She made sure that mask was on her face securely with the elastic band and left the unconscious teen “Daisy Duke” in the back to drift off to never land as she went up front for the journey to the pier, and the cargo ship, two hours drive away. She was afraid that any more touching of her prize, she would end up raping the girl, and would not be paid. Self control was a virtue.

The morning after her arrival in her “dorm room,” she was given a shower downstairs, and when she came back to her room, with only a towel, a minder came in with her, a Chinese woman who she recognized from the ship. She sat her down at the edge of the bed and handed her a glass of red wine.

“Drink this, it will settle your stomach,” she said, with a thick Chinese accent.

“My parents aren’t rich this, this is all a big mistake!” Nicole pleaded.

“Hush and do as we say,” the minder replied.

She held up the glass to her lips. Nicole drank the wine all down, it wasn’t that strong, and was a bit bitter. The woman left and they watched her on camera for an hour. Nicole was unsteady on her feet after about ten minutes then laid down and was still. The “roofies” had done the work and she was out cold.

Two women went in and went to work on the drugged beauty, one doing her makeup and the other dressing her. She was dressed in a frilly canary yellow blouse, glossy white DIM pantyhose, and a short white spandex skirt that barely covered her privates. Her hair was brushed out, and she was doused in cheap perfume. They then left to come-to on her own, which took about six hours. She had a customer coming who wanted her as he had ordered. Her will would be broken today.

Nicole stirred and finally sat up. She could see that she had been made up by looking at the far wall opposite the bed, where there was a built in full length mirror. She wasn’t sure it was her. She stumbled over and had a look at what they had done to her. She had a lot of blush on and her lips were lipsticked bright pink, and her eyes were done heavily in dark shadow, making her look Middle Eastern.

Her hair was combed to one side and held in place with a barrette. The skirt clung to her hips and just barely covered her. Her breasts were well defined by the yellow blouse, and she had no bra. Her legs had expensive looking white pantyhose.

Why had she been drugged and kidnapped? Were they going to rape her!? She had heard of stories of girls being taken by white slavers, but wasn’t that just on television? Surely they would be ransomed.

All her questions were answered when her first “john” came in. He was about six foot tall, fiftieth, he was dark skinned with short hair and was dressed in jeans and a brown shirt. When he spoke he sounded Middle Eastern.

“Go lay on the bed girl, I have come for you,” he said in a business like tone.

She knew she had been procured as a whore. Nicole recoiled and scrambled to the far side of the bed.

“No, don’t, I’m not supposed to be here!” she cried.

The man strode over to her and grabbed her, throwing her to the middle of the bed.

“Shut up and do as you are commanded!” he spat.

He struck her across the cheek several times.

Nicole lay stunned.

The man undid his belt and quickly threw off his jeans, and the rest of his clothes. Nicole lay on the bed with her arms over her breasts, sobbing and looking terrified. He felt under her blouse and rubbed her breasts, then pulled off the garment, laying her chest bare. He kissed her and tongued her, she moaned and squirmed but did not resist.

She gasped as he produced a small knife, and began cutting the crotch of her pantyhose, then he pulled off her skirt.

“No, don’t! No,” she cried but it was to no avail.

The man’s penis grew hard quickly, Nicole had never seen a mans dink up close before and had a hard time believing it was real. It was a full foot long, thick, and had a grayish brown color to it, thickly veined, and a large reddish head. His balls were huge and hairy.

“Please no, I’m not ready for something like this,” she pleaded.

The man grabbed Nicole’s main and after saying, “Suck my dong, or I will kill you,” forced the girl’s mouth on to his staff.

Nicole gagged and almost threw up, her head being pushed from the back. She got her lips around the snake and did as she was bidden. Her cheap lipstick covered the tip of her assailant’s dick as she was forced to suck him off.

“Enough!” he said, he was stiff enough now.

The man pushed Nicole down to the bed again, and went down on his paid-for-snatch. Nicole closed her eyes and lay still, as the man performed oral sex on her. She moaned softly and started to cry. The man was thorough, probing her deeply with his experienced tongue, licking her clean, preparing her for entry.

Nicole opened her reddened eyes to see him holding a small package of lube, and he smeared it on her cunt lips. She tried to push his hand away and was smacked for it. He emptied the rest on his love snake and stroked himself proudly. He then knelt between her silky thighs and forced her apart, then aimed his tool at her entrance. She gasped as he made contact with her cunt lips, and then, with all his weight, he pushed his stiff twelve inch Egyptian tool past her cunt lips and into her unplowed private box.

“UGHHHHHHHHHH!” she cried.

Nicole looked down and saw the huge lubricated staff stuffed into her clitoris. The pain was deep and it spread through her abdominal area. Her breathing was quick and desperate, she was covered in anxious girl sweat. Then, after a brief pause, he pushed past her innocence barrier and deep into her cunt.

Nicole bucked with her legs but was pinned by the much bigger man, who started to fuck her with his ample uncut rod. He split her open and went deep into her tunnel, as deep as he could plow, almost the entire length of his manhood. It made a disgusting squelching sound as it sank into her depths to brush up against her cervix.

His slut was finally still, staring at the ceiling, moaning like a wounded fawn. So he went to work. Nicole’s cunt was on fire, the pain was incredible. The rapist kept his rhythm for a good five minutes.

Grunting with each long stroke, before he yelled out, “Take my seed you slut!”

Nicole knew he was coming inside her. Her “freshness” had been sold on the black market for five thousand dollars, to the Egyptian arms dealer.

He withdrew from his prize, and let her see that it was slick with her innocence. She could only lay there, covered in sweat, her legs still apart, and stare at the instrument of her deflowering. He got dressed and left soon after. Nicole was left in the room with her ruined clothes, and smeared makeup. She lay on the bed and tried to recover from her first penetration, her sore pussy oozing man cum and the rape lube.

Minutes later her minder came in holding a syringe. She just looked up numbly as she lay there and watched the woman go to work. She grabbed her arm and tied a piece of tubing around her upper arm. “This will take away all of your worries, my princess,” she said. Her arm stung, then the deed was done. Within minutes Nicole was high on heroin, and being led to the toilet so she could throw up, naked except for her pantyhose. She was now much easier to handle for her whore-masters. She would earn her keep now.


Her next victim at the dance shop was not a girl, and was really a special order from the now back in business “Mr. Big.” She had a long standing unfilled order for a boy under sixteen, with girlish looks but few ever came into the shop. Ms. Fung ended up going to many ballet classes in search of the right boy to find.

She spent many hours with no luck until she met Lucas. He was thirteen, Caucasian, 5’1″ and lithe. With long black hair and green eyes he was perfect for what she needed. She saw him in a ballet school production of “Sleeping Beauty,” and admired the way he filled out his costume.

Most important, was that he was so naive. She made up a story about needing a model for boys ballet wear and would pay two hundred dollars for a few hours work at the shop. She needed him to be very discreet, as the model agencies would be upset with her if they found she didn’t use a model from an agency. The lure worked and Lucas showed up on a Sunday at noon.

Lucas showed up and was given a pair of men’s size small, glossy white ballet tights with full feet, a small ballet belt to hide his modesty, and white ballet slippers. He was also given a costume top, which was a puffy black ballet shirt, with fancy jeweled embroidery, for performances. He seemed a little hesitant about changing, but he was looking very fine in no time.

He could easily be mistaken for a girl from the back, he had a marvelous ass and the tights rode right up his crack, as they was meant to. Ms. Fung was dressed in a black velvet leotard, grey tights, and nothing else. Lucas seemed surprised by her bold attire, and a bit nervous. As he was a boy Ms. Fung decided on clubbing him to be sure he would be trouble free. The back room had a white sheet wall and a camera all set up with lights.

She positioned Lucas in front of the camera to give him posing pointers, and then, without warning, brutally clubbed him on the brain pan repeatedly with the cosh that she had handy in a nearby purse. He went down like a bag of dirt.

“Hmmf,” she thought.

Skinny little boy. He was carried to the van and thrown in. The laughing gas was opened. Lucas moaned and struggled, but to no avail. As the hissing sound started the mask was slipped over his pretty face.

He was taken by van to the drop off point after being trussed up very tightly with cheap pantyhose. An hour later he and was carried away by a black pimp who had Lucas’ rear-end greased up soon after his acquisition.

His new life would be as a transvestite hooker in New York, giving blow jobs for ten dollars a head, after being beaten up, and hooked on heroin and pain killers. He looked great in six inch thigh high velvet spiked boots, white opaque tights and a hot pink spandex cocktail dress and a flaming red wig. He would do anything for “Mr.T,” who was his man, his drug dealer, his pimp.

ACQUISITION #5, and #6:

The heat was on now and Ms. Fung new she had to close up shop within the next few days. The police had come by to ask her about Lucas, and there were too many links to her business. Thailand looked good right about now. She wanted another victim before closing up for good, but business was slow. The papergirl who delivered business flyers to the door every Friday came by on her inline skates, and was always alone.

That would be a bold move, but she was leaving the country soon anyways, with the last shipment of precious cargo. Would it be worth it? She decided yes. The girl was racially Pilipino-Japanese, about sixteen, 5″ 2″ long jet black hair with a very nice figure and ample breasts, very pretty. Ms. Fung decided to lure her into the store and take her.

She would accompany her on the ship to Bangkok! She set out several boxes of merchandise on the floor in front of the counter, as if there had been a delivery. She changed into a tight black dress with black nylons and 4 ” black pumps, and made it look like she was going out after closing. She wore a nice silver necklace and ear rings, and had a fancy black purse as well. She waited.

The papergirl, Meagan, was with her friend Alexis, and they were going inline skating after the papers were delivered. Alexis was Caucasian, sixteen, 5″ 1″ , short red hair and thin. Her breasts were not large but she was attractive. Meagan was dressed in a light blue top, with tight black full length spandex/cotton leggings (no shorts), that went down to her skates, and pink socks.

Alexis was a dancer (and a flirt), and she wore a red long sleeved top, blue velvet shorts, and glossy, thick, navy blue tights with white socks, and her inline skates. Both girls carried a bundle of flyers, and were making good time. They skated up to World of Dance and were greeted at the front door by Ms. Fung.

“Oh hello,” Ms. Fung said, “I have a small problem I was wondering if you girls could help me with?” she asked with a modest smile.

“Sure,” they replied, happy looking, “There are three boxes that have been just been dropped off and I need to move them into the back, I’m already changed to go out.”

Ms. Fung said apologetically, “Could I get some help? I will give you each a five dollar coupon, it’s the least I can do.”

“No problem,” Alexis said.

“Sure, we can do that,” Meagan added.

“It’ll only take five minutes,” Ms. Fung said, and she was telling the truth then, “I just need you to take your skates off as the hardwood floor gets scratched.”

As they all came into the dimly lit store.

“I was just closing early today, I have a dinner date with my brother and his wife,” Ms. Fung said coolly.

She always lied as easily as she could put on lipstick. The two girls took off their skates and put them aside. Ms. Fung pointed to the boxes.

“It’s just those three there, they go into the back.”

The boxes were about 4 foot x 4 foot x 2 foot and were stuffed with old clothes, and taped up to look like delivered merchandise. They weighed about fifteen pounds. Ms. Fung needed to go with the flow here, she didn’t expect two, but she had decided to take them both. Virgins or no they were worth it.

“Lets each take one,” Ms. Fung said, and she took off her pumps and nodded to the girls after picking up a box.

“Just take them through that room, right into the back.”

Alexis and Meagan each picked up a box and carried them into the back, followed closely by Ms. Fung, who put hers down before following in behind. She glided in without her shoes, pulled out the cosh from here purse, and wrapped the leather handle tightly around her wrist.

She swung on Alexis first,.

“THWAP!” and the girl dropped the box and staggered.

Ms. Fung ignored her and hit Meagan only a second later, also concussing her on the head.


“GUGHHHH!” Meagan whimpered, and fell to her knees hard, holding her head.

She turned back for Alexis who was also on the floor.

“Oh my god, oh my God,” she said.

Ms. Fung admired her great legs, clad in her blue tights and socks, she strode over to the dazed girl. She swung again, and connected with the left temple of the young teen.


The cosh did its work, and Alexis dropped to the floor unconscious, lying on her front. She dropped the cosh and went to her purse briefly. She pulled out a 1cc syringe and strode over to Meagan, who was still kneeling on the floor, her head hung low. Ms. Fung stuck the syringe in her glossy black thigh, and emptied the morphine into her.

“OUCH!” Meagan cried, and sat down, her legs out, still holding her head, “What, what are you doing to us?”

Ms. Fung did not reply, and walked back to Alexis, who was groaning and moving just a bit. Ms. Fung pulled her shorts off over her smooth tights, and removed her socks. She took another 1cc syringe and stuck it into her ass, through her blue tights, injecting her with morphine as well.

“You will both sleep now,” Ms. Fung said, walking back to Meagan. She sat down with the girl, and moved her closer, holding her gently, “Let the morphine do its work.”

She took Meagan’s head and pushed it into her lap.

She stroked her hair, and said, “It’s all going to be fine my beauty, be still.”

Alexis was now drugged and was not moving. Meagan felt warm and numb, her thigh stung from the injection, and her head throbbed from being coshed. She felt herself be pushed to the lady’s lap, she could see her friend knocked out lying on the floor. Her legs and arms splayed wide. She started to feel noxious, and very dizzy. The warmth had spread over her, she felt heavy and her limbs would not move.

She tried to protest, but it came out as, “Humgpff, lomnnnnn…” her lips were thick and rubbery.

She felt herself be picked up by the store lady, her limbs dangling freely, and she could see she was being moved. She was in the back of a van, on a mattress. The lady took off her socks, and then tied her ankles together with nylons. The lady looked down at her, and brushed her hair out of her face as her ponytail had been undone. Her wrists were tied, as were her knees. She lay there dreamily and saw that Alexis was now lying beside her. The lady quickly trussed up her unconscious friend like an expert. She drifted in and out of sleep…

Alexis did not take the voyage well, and in a rare move, and in front of the other sobbing girls, she was forced to give head to one of the male crewmen, on Ms. Fung’s orders, to show them not to resist. She played “Good cop” with Meagan, and nightly brought the teen to her bed to fondle and lick her, and by told her sweet lies of freedom if she would cooperate, and do as she was bidden. By the time she was in Bangkok she was Ms. Fung’s lesbian “cabin girl.” That didn’t stop her from being sold off however…


Ms. Fung enjoyed Thailand very much. She had been very successful this year, and felt business was going to be good. She bought Meagan as her own and “Leased” her to her sister’s brothel in Bangkok. It was a good business investment. Last she saw of her she was kneeling in front of a white sex tourist, dressed as a “Little girl,” making her owner money.


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