LIBYAN GIRL BULLY’S SLAVE
Isabelle Fontaine was sat on a chair attached to other rows of chairs. She looked out the large glass window. She saw a plane taking off. She was inside an airport terminal, in Paris, France. In about ten minutes she was going to get up and join the passengers queueing up for a plane headed for Tripoli, Libya. It was still early morning and only three reasons why she was going to Libya. Firstly, she was offered a lot of money to teach French by the government. Libya was a Socialist dictatorship despite being an Arab Muslim country. Secondly, she broke up with her last boyfriend and had problems with many men in her life and so she wanted to get away from it all and Libya was very far from it, being in North Africa. Thirdly, she was a proud French national and teaching French would be a means of promoting her country’s culture and language, despite the rest of the world becoming more and more Anglo-Saxonised and adapting the American culture due to Globalization. Fourthly, Libya was a hot country and although she had never been there before she expected it to be something like Morocco or Algeria, France’s former North African colonies. She loved the heat and she could speak Italian, a common language that was often spoken in Libya.
After Ten Minutes, Isabelle Fontaine got up and joined the queue headed for Tripoli, Libya. She had no problems going to a country like Libya despute the fact that it was on the US’s terrorist list because it was an anti-American country and Isabelle was also a proud Socialist who disliked the United States. Isabelle stood at 5 foot 9, was slim and sexy at the age of 30, had 4oD sized breasts, quite tanned, had short brown hair, crystal blue eyes and a round face. She heard men giving her wolf whistles too often and she just had to get away from it all.
TWO WEEKS LATER
TUESDAY AFTERNOON
Isabelle had just finished teaching French and was still sat inside her classroom. She looked at the clock. It was two o’clock. She was teaching French in all girls- secondary school. She was checking up the French assigment hand-overs from her students. But she stopped marking papers. She got up and walked out of the classroom. She heard noises out in the hallway.
Out in the hallway she saw a taller girl pinning down a much shorter girl. “Hey,” Isabelle walked towards the much taller girl and pulled her aside, screaming, “What do you think you are doing?” The much taller girl was nearly a head taller than Isabelle and her name was Shakira. Shakira was a student in her class who often bullied the other girls and her juniors too. Shakira had black hair and black eyes and olive complexion. “I was not doing anything,” Shakira muttered back in Arabic. Isabelle understood some Arabic. “Yes you did,” Isabelle scolded her. Isabelle looked at the much smaller girl, a girl named Faisul. “Did she hurt you?” Isabelle asked Faisul. Faisul shook her head. It was obvious that Faisul was scared of Shakira and would not dare rat out on her. “I know you bullied her. I want you to admit it now before I go to the principal,” Isabelle shot Shakira a stern look. “Why are you blaming me. I have done nothing wrong,” Shakira protested back. Isabelle let them both go with her telling Shakira, “one of these days I am going to catch you.". Shakira sometimes disrupted the classroom. She was definitely sure that Shakira bullied Faisul just now as she heard noises out in the hallway.
Just one more day to go and she had two days free. Unlike Western countries where thw weekend was the holiday, in Libya Thursday and Friday were the holidays because they followed the Islamic system, though not Sharia Law.
TUESDAY NIGHT
Isabelle lied on her bed, reading a French novel. Two weeks in Libya made her fell like she was living within the former USSR. TV stations are tightly un by the government and all the programmes and shows came from neighbouring Egypt. Unlike Europe, Libya did not have porn shop,s night clubs, discoes and all western foreigners had to go to special shops and markets to purchase what they wanted. She only intended to spend perhaps after a few more months before headed back to France. Her contract only specified a couple or so months. It was even illlegal to have sex with other men in public. No real freedom although she got paid a lot of money.
WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON
Isabelle was inside her classroom, doing some paper work. She heard a knock on her door. She looked up. Her door was open and it was her student Faisul. “Hello. Come in,” Isabelle waved at her. Faisul entered the classroom. Faisul was the girl yesterday who got bullied and whom she rescued. Isabelle noticed that Faisul was carrying something in her hand. Faisul approached Isabelle, raising what she had in her hand. It was a necklace. A beautiful necklace. “Wow that is beautiful. Is this something you wanted to see me about” Isabelle eyeing the necklace. She was attracted to it and mesmerised by it. She wanted it for herself. “This is for you,” Faisul said. “Really,” Isabelle was excited. “Just to say thank you for yesterday,” Faisul handed the necklace to Isabelle. Isabelle took it. “Ok Miss Fontaine I better get going,” Faisul walked away.
Isabelle didn’t bother to see her leave. She just slowly placed the necklace around her neck.
Once she placed it around her neck, her mind went blank. It was if she was put under some sort of spell.
Someone then entered the classroom. It was Shakira. Shakira walked up towards Isabelle’s table. “Get up,” Shakira ordered Isabelle. Isabelle got up, saying in fluent Arabic, “Yes mistress.” “You can come in now,” Shakira bellowed. Faisul meekly entered the classroom. She slowly crept up to Shakira. “She will obey you now. I swear. She will obey the first person she sees,” Faisul cowered in sight of Shakira. Shakira looekd down at Faisul, saying, “Good. This means that you no longer have to pay me money every day. But if you tell a single soul about this I will kill you. Understand,” Shakira bullied Faisul. Faisul nodded in fear. Shakira was not going to bully her anymore or torment her. “Now go,” Shakira bulliying Faisul. Faisul ran off. Shakira then turned her eyes on her new slave—Isabelle Fontaine. Faisul had found the necklace for Shakira from some ancient ruin dating back to Greek times and she knew about the legends, that whoever had the necklace around her neck would obey the first man or woman she sees. Shakira was the first person Isabelle saw since she place the necklace around her neck. “Who are you and what is your purpose in life?” Shakira testing. “I am Isabelle Fontaine and I am your slave mistress,” Isabelle Fontaine responded meekly. “Good. Now we will go to the car park and we will drive back to your place,” Shakira ordered. Shakira hated Isabelle standing up for the much younger and smaller girls against her. Now Isabelle was going to join them in taking orders and allowing herself to get bullied by Shakira. isabelle was Shakira’s slave. And Isabelle would only be free again if her “owner” removes the necklace from her neck.
Isabelle walked towards the car park as instructed. Once Isabelle was by her car, Shakira walked up to her. “Now we are going to get inside your car and you are driving us both back to your place. Understood,” Shakira commanded. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle responded meekly in Arabic. They both got inside Isabelle’s car. Shakira sat by the passenger’s seat while Isabelle drove them away from the all-girls government school. Isabelle drove her car on the road until they finally reached an apartment block where Isabelle lived. Once Isabelle parked her car, the two of them took the lift towards the fifth floor where Isabelle lived. Once they got inside Isabelle’s apartment flat, Shakira sat on the sofa. “Make me a tea drink and also have some biscuits for me too,” Shakira ordered. “As you wish mistress,” Isabelle bowed like a slave. Isabelle brought her mistress tea and biscuits. Shakira was eating some biscuits while her new slave stood in front of her.
“When we are in front of the other students you will not call me mistress but by my name. I don’t want them to know that you are my slave. You will only call me mistress when we are alone. You will obey me and be loyal to me at all times,” Shakira said. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle meekly responded. After finishing her tea and biscuits, Isabelle took the cup and plates and cleaned them up.
Shakira looked at Isabelle as she stood in front of her like a robot. Shakira stood up. She was nearly a head taller than her slave. “You are a beautiful woman Isabelle,” Shakira was fondling with Isabelle’s brown hair. “Thank you mistress,” Isabelle responded, as if scared of her mistress. “You are afraid of me, aren’t you slave?” Shakira toying with her slave’s brown hair. “I am afraid of you because my life is yours and you are my mistress,” Isabelle responded with fear in her tone of voice. She liked this new Isabele. She liked it thaT Isabelle was not just her slave but also afraid of her, not the heroine who defended smaller students against her. Shakira wore a white uniform, a headscarf and long pants. She had forced younger girls to have sex with her against their own will in a lesbian manner and she even had seen porn magazines and videos illegally brought to Libya by some Libyan boys.
“Slave take off your clothes,” Shakira commanded. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle slowly stripping off her clothes until she was totally naked. “Now we will go to your room,” Shakira said. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle heading for her bedroom. Once she was inside her bedroom, Shakira ordered her to lie her back down on her own bed. Isabelle climbed up her bed and lied down.
Shakira took off her own clothes and climbed next to her French slave. She was on top of Isabelle, forcing her lips on to Isabelle, while squeezing ehr breasts and pulling at her nipples. “Ok slave. I am going to lie on the bed while you give lick my pussy,” Shakira commanded. Shakira lied on the bed while Isabelle buried her own face between Shakira’s legs, licking at the clitoris. Shakira enjoyed her clitoris being tasted and licked at. “Ok slave. I want you to lie down now instead,” shakira commanded. Isabelle lied on the bed while Shakira crouched over Isabelle’s face. “I want you to lick my ass, " Shakira commanded. Isabelle lapped her tongue away at Shakira’s asshole. Shakira enjoyed degrading the once proud French teacher in such a manner. And she loved it that her slave was cleaning her ass for her too. The tongue touching her asshole was too much for her that she ended up farting on Isabelle’s beautiful face. Shakira could hear Isabelle’s nose making a certain movement. She knew that her slave hated it and so she laughed...cruelly.
Shakira then lied down on top of Isabelle’s face, smiling wickedly at Isabelle, “Did you like the smell of my fart.”
“No mistress. No,” Isabelle frantically shook head head, as if about to cry.
Shakira then started kissing Isabelle’s right nipple. Kissing and then sucking very hard at it. Isabelle moaned in pain. Her mistress was sucking on her nipple way too hard, while cruelly pinching and pulling at the other nipple. Shakira then crept her face to her neck, kissing and biting at her nape. She has never had a French woman before, just dark-skinned Arab girls.
“Ok slave turn around and face the bed,” Shakira ordered. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle slowly turned arround. She faced the bed while her behind faced the ceiling. Shakira then spanked Isabelle’s ass. Isabele’s body winched in pain and Shakira heard Isabelle making crying sounds. Shakira then continued slapping Isabelle’ ass. She loved the slapping sound coming from her hands making their impact against Isabelle’s European buttocks. She counted how many times she had slapped Isabelle’s ass. It was more than 20 times. Isabelle’s ass turned completely red. Shakira then lowered her mouth just above Isabelle’s buttocks, letting her saliva dripped down towards Isabelle’s buttocks. Seeing her saliva on the French woman’s flesh made her very excited. She then started lapping her tongue at the battered-up French ass. As Shakira was licking both the French woman’s buttocks, Isabelle winched her body in pain. She couldn’t try freeing herself from this predicament no matter how it hurt her because she was in mystical bondage. Isabelle just screamed in pain.
Shakira got up from the bed and shotued at Isabelle, “Get up from the bed slave.” Isabelle respodned with tears, “Yes Mistress.” Isabelle slowly got up from the bed and she could feel pain in her ass. Shakira walked towards the kitchen. She opened the fridge door. She saw two large cucumbers. She smiled...wickedly. She took both cucumbers and walked back to the bedroom. She enjoyed seeing Isabelle naked. She walked up to Isabelle, and went behind her. She slowly shoved the cucumber up Isabelle’s red ass. Isabelle cried. Shakira then walked up in front of Isabelle. She shoved the other cucumber into Isabelle’s cunt. “Now walk to the living room,” Shakira laughed. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle wept. Isabelle walked as both her cunt and ass were being occupied by two separate painful organic objects. She couldn’t walk straight and walked in a crouching way. Shakira followed behind her. Shakira enjoyed what she saw. She snickered at her own cruelty. As Isabelle walked, she was cumming on the cucumber stuck up her cunt. Isabelle was walking around the living room. Shakira then sat on the sofa, facing her French slave. “Slave I want you to squat down, take the cucumber out of your pussy and eat it,” Shakira ordered. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle responded. She squatted down, with her breasts bouncing. She slowly pulled out the cucumber from her pussy and then started munching at it, tasting her own cum from it. The whole sight made Shakira laugh.
After five minutes Isabelle managed to fisnih that entire cucumber. “Now eat the one that is stuck up your ass,” Shakira shouted angrily. “Yes my mistress,” Isabelle sounding really scared from her mistress. isabelle moved her right hand behind her ass, slowly pulling out the cucumber stuck up her ass. She then started munching on it. Unlike the one she last ate, this one did not taste like it had her cum on it. It tasted like it had shit on it. It tasted really horrible.
Isabelle managed to finish her second cucumber.
Shakira slowly started putting back her clothes on. She then ordered her naked slave to come to her, on all fours.
Isabelle crawled nakedly to her mistress. her boobs were shaking and it made Shakira excited. once Isabelle was in front of her mistress, Shakira then said, “I want you to come and sit on my lap.” Isabelle got up and sat on Shakira’s lap. Shakira was massaging Isabelle’s breasts. “I really love your breasts,” Shakira said. She then kissed Isabelle’s right nipple gently.
“Isabelle I saw apples inside your fridge. This is what I want you to do.” Shakira whispered at her slave’s ears.
Isabelle went to the kitchen and cut some apple pieces for her mistress and put them on a plate. She also poured some honey on the top of her breasts. She went back to her mistress and sat once more on her lap, after handing her the apple-plate of course. Shakira was taking sliced apple pieces and scooping them on Isabelle’s breasts, taking the honey stain from there, then eating those apple pieces. “Taste good too,” Shakira chuckled. When Shakira finsiehd eating, Isabelle took the plate and washed it up by the kitchen sink. And washed her breasts too.
“Slave I want you to put your clothes back on and drive me home,” Shakira shouted.
WEDNESDAY EVENING
Isabelle’s car was on the same street as Shakira’s house. It was already dark and Shakira’s parents probably thought that she was with her friends. Shakira was still inside the car, sat next to her slave. Isabelle told Shakira everything. Shakira was planning to have Isabelle become her new housemaid after her contract with the Libyan school was over so that she does not go back to France but still stay in Libya, in the months to come. Shakira also told Isabelle to pass her for all her assignments and exams. Isabelle wore proper clothes including jeans. But the zipper from her jeans was down and she was ordered not to wear any panty so that Shakira could fondle with her pussy straightaway while they were still inside the car. Isabelle liked her pussy being fondeld and played with.
“Before I go slave, I want you to know that I will be at your place tomorrow afternoon. Three o clock sharp. I want you to wear nothing but some sexy panty and bra and cook me some nice French food to eat,” Shakira enjoying touching Isabelle’s pussy. “Yes mistress,” Isabelle jerking backwards as Shakira’s finger was pointing directly towards her clitoris.
“And tonight I want you to masturbate over me having power over you,” Shakira smiled. “Oh yes mistress,” Isabelle sexually responded. Shakira got out of the car, walking to her house.
Isabelle started driving back home. She remembered her duties as a slave. Go back home and masturbate over Shakira.
Tomorrow she had to serve her mistress when she arrives.