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Coeds In Captivity - ebook

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Coeds In Captivity by Reese Gabriel

Cassie and Debbie are sexy coeds whose Spring Break trip to the notorious pleasure island of San Martia turns into a nightmare of abuse and exploitation. While visiting an underground nightclub, a brutal Russian forces shy, dark-haired Cassie to submit to him on the dance floor, while flirtatious blonde Debbie is molested, chloroformed and whisked away in a black limousine to a secluded mansion. For Deborah it is the beginning of her training as a sex submissive by a secret society. A man known as The Trainer cunningly converts her natural lusts, reducing her overnight to the level of an obedient, horny animal.

Cassie, meanwhile, turns for help to the sadistic island police, who demand step by step payments for their services, taken in healthy doses out of her pretty hide. Finally, Cassie is arrested and spirited away by a judge who seeks to turn her into a living doll to be disciplined, abused and taunted on a daily basis. Debbie is put up for auction, falling victim to a man she rebuffed earlier on the trip. Will the girls free themselves and each other or will they be condemned forever to be coeds in captivity?

Contains whipping, bondage, spanking, submissive girl training, caging, humiliation, psychological abuse and domination, virgin sex, golden showers, compulsory sex, oral and anal, caning.

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Without even knowing his name, she was yielding to his dark-eyed charms, his strong hands on her waist, his burgundy lips on hers, taking, speaking out a code that was both universal and ancient. To her shame, Cass felt herself responding in ways too obvious to deny. Could he feel it—her nipples rising under the flimsy bra, the heat that was pooling just beneath her skin, the warmth, down below her belly button?
It was times like these that she really hated to be so damned feminine in her needs.
“Please, no,” she mouthed as he reached behind her to let down her tresses of raven colored hair. “I don’t want…”
His fingers weaved their way expertly to her neck as he pulled her head tight. This time he wanted, and got her open mouth, glued to his. I’ll resist soon, she told herself, any minute now. Just as soon as I get the lay of the land, the feel of his hard muscled chest, the dimensions of his crotch, his cock swelling against me.
Resistance turned to self-betrayal. I need that cock, she thought. A stranger’s cock. Any cock. But she needed her dignity, too, and there was the dilemma. Tearing herself far enough away to turn her head, she looked to Debbie for solidarity.
Fat chance.
Debbie was well on her way to screwing the other man right on the dance floor. Already she was off her feet, her legs wrapped round the middle of the thick-bicepted, clean-domed man as his hands dug uncontested into the globes of the girl’s firm, perfect ass cheeks. Shamelessly, she offered him her lips and torso making a mockery of the sequined barrier of her dress and underclothes. It was sex with their clothes on, the proverbial antecedent to the well-used line, “go get a room.”
“Let’s go somewhere and fuck the little bitches till they squeal,” said the one holding Cassie to the other. He was speaking Russian, a language Cassandra had learned in Moscow during the three years her father had served as a liaison officer to the Russian military.
“Da,” agreed the one pawing Debbie.
The cads, thought Cassie, they aren’t even bothering to talk to us, just each other.
“Debbie,” whispered Cass into her friend’s ear as they grabbed the girls’ wrists and commenced to drag them across the crowded dance floor, “They intend to use us for sex—they called us bitches.”
Debbie did a little shuffle step in her silver heels in an effort to keep up with the man’s larger stride. “Duh,” she said back. “All men are that way—we’re just going to fuck them before they fuck us.”
Cassie still had her doubts, especially when the two Russians hustled them into a cab and took them over to The Volcano, a dark and sordid pit with a reputation as being the most randy and out of control spot on the whole island. The club’s main feature was a sunken dance pit into which bubbles, suds and even water could be dropped. Bumping and grinding were de rigueur and from what Cass could see, the dark corners were being used for more than just dancing.
The bouncer suggestively looked over the females, causing Cass to cringe and Debbie to perk up under the added attention. A place like this suited Deb’s exhibitionist’s streak well. To Cass it was going to be a living nightmare. She wanted to go back to her room. She wanted to go home.

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