The Gangbanged Reporter's Journal: The Complete Uncensored Collection by Amanda Clover

Author:Amanda Clover
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Erotica
Published: 2014-04-05T06:00:00+00:00

Part 6: The Harem in Hamburg

Hamburg, Germany

1:40 PM

The maid costume incorporated a corset that cinched tightly around my waist and lifted my large breasts into the costume's neckline to create a creamy triangle of cleavage that invited men to stare. The black skirt, ruffled and trimmed with lace, of course, was paired with black stockings and high heels. It was a totally impractical costume for a maid to wear, which suited my master, elderly Texas oil billionaire Burton King, just fine. After all, I wasn't really his maid. I was his harem slave.

"You look like a doll," he said, watching me parade past him. "Come over here, sugar, and have a seat on Uncle Burt's lap."

"Yes, master," I said, wiggling my hips as I walked across the stone floor. Burton lifted my skirt as I settled the white satin heart of my bottom in his lap. His cock was stiff and it prodded against my panty-covered rump.

"Come on in here, you other two," shouted Burton. He pulled me back to lean against his fat belly and chest. His hand slid over my thigh and he reached between my legs to play his pudgy fingers against my mound.

"Oh, master," I cooed, playing the part of a gratefully submissive slave, "that feel s so good."

I closed my eyes and leaned my golden hair against the fat, old pervert's shoulder. I would play the part of an obedient harem slave as long as I had to.

Kidnapped off the streets of Cairo and sold at an underground slave market in Suadi Arabia, I had remained focused on my ultimate goal of catching the man responsible for it all: international sex trafficker Ivan Guriyev. I had done many disgusting things to make it this far and I knew I would likely endure many more before I had my chance to bring down Guriyev and all the rich scumbags who bid on me at Guriyev's slave market. My report, when it was finished, would destroy them all.

I had reason to believe my chance to get back at Guriyev would come soon. Burton King had flown us to Germany on his private plane and had brought us to a medieval castle located on an island in the middle of a lake. It was called Castle Falkenberg, according to the signs, and the only way to it was a man-made land bridge.

Burton King had rented the castle for some sort of party involving guests he referred to as "brothers" or "his brothers." I assumed they were some sort of creepy rich-person secret society and I suspected that I would be working quite hard at this party. I had overheard Burton on the phone when he mentioned "Ivan" being invited. I only had to keep up the act until the man who tried to destroyed me showed his face.

I wasn't alone in my shameful predicament. The other two women that Burton King had purchased at the slave market walked into the castle's great room, their high heels clicking off the stones.

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