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Subject: {ASSM} Life in the Harem (Ch. 01-06) MDom, Mf, slavery
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(c) 2008 Sirsemega
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are either the product of the author's disturbed imagination and are
used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead,
undead or mostly harmless, business establishments, events, or
locales
is entirely coincidental.
If you enjoy it, please drop me an email at sirsemega@gmail.com

Life in the Harem COMPLETE

Modern day harem life of slaves and their struggles for alpha slave
status.
Master is unaware of the intrigue and back stabbings that go on when
he is away from the harem between his sex slaves. Or is he?
Cast:
Calista: Lead character
Master: Master and owner
Sir Jon: Master's longtime friend
Lady Martha: Master's first wife
Lucinda: a very ambitious slave who takes an interest in Calista
Jacinta: Paired off with Calista, she too is a house slave
Mildred: Mother hen to the slaves, she is the eldest house slave
Jasmine: Arab slave girl who took over for Calista as greeter
Clara: den-mother to the harem slaves
Petra and Paulina, Roxanne, Quan-Yi, Gretchen and Barbie: harem slaves
Darabi: Another slave trader


BEGINNING

Master must have come into money. He didn't strike me as a person born
to the blue. He certainly was graceful and eloquent, but there was a
certain polish lacking when it came to protocol. On very rare
occasions Master's oldest friend would come by to visit. Sir Jon had
known Master longer than anyone else, and was the person whom Master
had complete trust in. Sir Jon, however, gave us a glimpse as to what
Master was before he had acquired his wealth. Sir Jon was working
class, grease and grime always under his fingernails, no hope of ever
coming clean. On these rare occasions, when Sir Jon visited, Master
always allowed him to take his pick of us for his entertainment. The
estate was remote, surrounded by forest and no other houses within
view. Every visitor that arrived either came in by small plane,
landing on the dirt runway, or had traveled for a very longtime by
car. I have no idea how I arrived here, but my first task after
indoctrination was as a greeter for visitors. I was not allowed in the
main house, as that was a privilege I would have to earn, rather I was
placed in the outdoor kennels, my clothes replaced with collar and
body harness. The harness did nothing to hide my exposed breasts or
cunt. My job was to greet all visitors as they arrived, recite the
welcome chant prostate at the door of the plane or car, "Welcome Sirs
and Madams, this unworthy slave greets you most humbly to Duquette
Estate. Please allow this wretch to escort you to the main house and
to make arrangements for your luggage."

I am not proud to say that I would listen to their conversations as I
went through my tasks, eager to glean any information outside my realm
of knowledge. Any news of the real world, about the environment I was
now in, anything at all. Before I knew better, I was able to gather
that the Estate that I now served in was so far away from help, that
there was no chance of escape if I was able to leave. I also found out
that my Master was not a man to be trifled with, he had become very
influential and powerful, so large a presence that my being couldn't
help but shrink in the importance of his stature.

I soon learned that eavesdropping on guests conversations was
something I should not concern myself with. It was in fact escorting
Sir Jon and his guest up to the main house that Lucinda, one of the
house slaves, discovered me listening intently to their conversation,
and it was confirmed, as Sir Jon made a particular funny joke, of
which I snickered, that changed Lucinda's welcoming smile to our
guests, to one of harshness as she excused herself from Sir Jon and
his guest, marched directly to me and instructed me to report to my
kennel. She did this in a subtle way that didn't alert our guests that
there was a problem. My stomach churned, and I went clammy as I
curtsied and turned heel, heading back to my kennel. Lucinda resumed
her duties escorting Sir Jon and his guest in the main house, of which
I had not been granted the privilege of entering, and now wondered if
I ever would be allowed.

There is a pecking order here among the slaves. Kennel slaves are
lowest, housed in the outside kennels, they are usually the newest
slaves, purchased or by other arrangements such as blackmail, agreed
contracts, or other means, both legal and illegal. They live housed in
a cell block, with collar and leather body harness only. Kennel slaves
are trained and either sold and moved to other owners, or if they are
very lucky, they are kept by Master. It is very rare for Master to
keep a new slave and he never visits the kennel. At some point in
time, Master stopped training kennel slaves and passed that assignment
over to his house slaves. During my entire time spent as a kennel
slave, I only saw my Master while greeting him as he arrived back to
his estate. Becoming a house slave is something all kennel slaves
dream about, it is their entire ambition to earn the right to wear
clothes, and be able to enter the Main house. Because of this right of
passage, all house slaves strictly maintain discipline of kennel
slaves. They become the trainers and punishers, policing the kennel
slaves and issue training strictly within the lines of protocol Master
has laid out. They take a particular kind of glee in issuing training
and punishment, remembering their own trials and toils shivering in
the kennels, being the lowest of all slaves and taking brutal hidden
punishment from all others. Some vindictively torture the kennel
slaves, forcing the new slaves to go through the same rite of fire
that they themselves had to endure.

House slaves have the responsibility of recommending kennel slaves for
promotion. They take that responsibility very seriously. Master at
this point cannot be bothered with something as trivial as weeding out
the new trainees. There are only a very small number of openings for
house slaves, as house slaves can outlive their purpose, be promoted,
or can be sold to a guest that takes a particular liking to them. The
house slaves are very guarded as to whom they recommend for promotion.
The kennel slave must be not only completely trained, but obedient,
pleasant, liked by all others, and trustworthy. If a kennel slave is
promoted and fails as a house slave, in whatever way Master sees fit,
the house slave and the ones who recommend promotion are removed from
the house. Most are sold off to live lives of unspeakable cruelty,
some are killed, but one has been kept within the estate, to be served
as a lesson to all slaves of the consequences of failure.

She is kept in a small cabin on the far end of the estate. Every new
slave on their first day is brought to that cabin to be shown what
happens with failure. Upon each promotion, they are again shown this
miserable wretch, as a reinforced reminder of what failure can bring.
She has no name. Some whisper that she was Master's second wife one
time, long ago. She is more a receptacle now than a slave, her arms
and legs atrophied from the steel cage box she is forced into. She is
inflicted with electrical shocks on a minute by minute basis; the pain
long ago forced her mind into mush. Estate hands, gardeners, workers,
have full use of her orifices and her body within the cage as they
beat, shit, piss and fuck her till they are spent. A sign at the door
reads: "This is what happens with failure. Its failure was poor
judgment. Enter with cruelty in mind. Take it out on the failure
inside."

This... "thing's" ... punishment was to serve out its days as a reminder
that with a modicum of power comes responsibility. This lesson remains
firmly entrenched within each slave here on the Duquette Estate,
making recommendations few and far between.

I didn't have to wait for Lucinda long. She came to my cage and opened
the door, grabbing my hair; she dragged me out and down the corridor
to the punishment room. Once inside, she strapped me to a whipping
post, and once secured, grabbed me by the jaw, twisting my head around
to stare directly into my tearing eyes. The olive skinned
Mediterranean woman was exotic looking, big eyes, very curvy and tall.
She looked glamorous, but hard. Her face was set, her body a steel
spring. She exuded resolve. I was afraid.

"Slave," she said sternly, I had not earned the right of a name or
number yet.
"Do you know why you are here?"
I nodded, and tried to cast my eyes downward. She reaffixed her grip
on me, yanking my face upward to meet hers, as she towered over me.
"You are to never listen in on conversations. Unless someone is
addressing you, talk is NOT to be heard."
"Yes, mistress," I chocked back some tears.
"It's very simple slave, you have one task, and you should be
concentrating on doing that one simple task only."
"Yes, mistress," I replied.
"Do not concern yourself with things beyond your purview, you little
bitch! You know the consequences of failure?"
I nodded and shuddered, remembering the cabin.
"Focus on your task at hand, and only that, and maybe, if you're
lucky, you will survive."
She smiled, and I let my guard down for a moment, hoping that the
lesson was concluded. Her face turned and she brought down across my
face a blow from a crop, where she produced it from, I do not know,
but the sting knocked me off balance, as I yelped in pain.
"Now, my pet, a little reinforcement is in order so that you learn
your place. Take this lesson well, you now have been logged, if you
fail again, you will live to regret the rest of your miserable life!"

She thrashed me for what seemed like days. Passing out, I was quickly
revived with a splash of cold water from a bucket. I begged her to
stop, that I had learned my lesson. She did not. No one punishing her
had been lenient. They had shown her no mercy. The connection to
failure for the punisher was just as frightening as for the slave who
failed. It was a vicious cycle that Master had devised, making others
accountable for the actions of all slaves that kept the estate
autonomous. Every slave was well aware of not only their own status
for failure, but also the actions of others who failed, if they were
in part responsible. That meant swift correction by higher slaves to
lesser slaves when an infraction occurred.

When Lucinda finally tired, I caught my breath between sobs, grateful
for the end of the punishment. I slumped on the post, still secured
there, my body in fiery pain as she had spared no part of it with her
whipping. She pushed the buzzer that sat beside the door. A silent
ring went off somewhere outside my world. For me, all I knew was pain,
and fear, and gratefulness that the instrument of pain had stopped.
Minutes later, a stable hand walked in, sweaty and grimy, he had a
thick leather apron on. He grunted as Lucinda pointed towards the
bundle of exposed nerve endings that was my body. He was holding
something. It glowed red.

Lucinda walked up to me, followed by the stable hand, she grabbed my
hair and pulled my face up to view her. "You knew the rules, slave,"
she spat. "From day one, we have been training you, yet you disobeyed
one of the rules. Listening to a conversation from your superiors is
something that does not concern you. For that, you have been
corrected. You have been logged. But we have a little something more
for you..."
She moved out of my view and I focused for the first time on the red
hot brand, the stable hand, held in his blacksmithing hand. It took me
a moment to realize what it was, and what it would do to my already
tender aching flesh. Burning a brand into my flesh, searing it into my
nerves, permanently marking me, I gargled in fear, spittle choking me.
I tried to plead. No words would come out. I tried to shake my head
no, Lucinda held my face firm. I tried to move away from the
approaching brand, the whipping post held me tight. I was at the mercy
of them, helpless to move, helpless to protest, my body shaking in a
deep rooted fear that petrified me to my very core. Spots appeared
around my vision, and then enclosed and I blacked out, only to be
slapped awake. The brand approached closer.
"That is the letter F," she said.
Failure. Branded a failure. Oh my god!
My body slumped, I awaited my brand, nothing I could do or say would
help. I was a slave. Owned. To be done with as my Master pleased.
Finally at the very last moment, only inches from my chest, the stable
hand pulled the brand away. Smiled, and left the room.
Confused, I looked up at Lucinda, tears in my eyes, unsure as to what
was happening.

She patted my head, and looked sternly at me. "That was your only
reprieve, slave. Learn this lesson well."
I leaned into her leg, grateful for the compassion she had shown me.
Right now, I realized that there was nothing in the world except her;
it was she who had the power of life and death over me, the power of
pleasure and pain over me. I sobbed as she stroked my hair.
"You have so far shown promise, slave. Beside this infraction, you
have taken to your training well. You have been noticed by the other
house slaves," she said.
I looked up into my world, this was the first I was aware that others
were judging me with an eye to the future. Could it be that I would
have a future? Up till now, I had lived for the moment, my past a
mystery, unsure that a future could even be possible. But now? I had
promise!
She smiled, this time a genuine smile with warmth. "We do not like to
mark slaves with promise for their first infraction. Ones that are
moved through here, do not get that option, they have to learn quickly
and brutally that rules are meant to be obeyed, first time, every
time."
I nodded. I had seen the miserable wretches, of all color and class,
come through the kennels. Some stayed for a few days, others a week or
two. They were kept isolated, only a trainer with them and no general
grounds tasks to do. Within the kennels, sobbing and crying and
wailing were heard almost all the time, either from despair, pain, or
suffering. Master had purposely made the walls thin so that the effect
of these cry's were felt and heard among all kennel slaves. It was a
constant reminder of our status, and that we could be in far worse
shape. At that moment, I felt very lucky that I had stayed a kennel
slave for so long. I had seen the others that moved out quickly, and
their bodies and minds had been crushed and broken. I could only
surmise that wherever they went after this place, it would be to a far
worse environment than here, destined to live life in a cellar, or
chained to a brothel bed, or work some mine a mile underground, never
to see the light of day.

I wrapped what I could of my bound body around my world, Lucinda's
leg, sobbing with gratitude, "I'm sorry mistress! I have learned my
lesson, mistress! I will not fail again, mistress!" I repeated over
and over again. She stroked me, mewing sweet nothings into my ear.
"There, there, little one," she whispered. Consoling me. Then subtly
she shifted her body around so that my face was in front of her
crotch. Raising her latex skirt, as she continued to console me, she
gently but with purpose, guided my tongue into her pussy. I lapped at
her, with a gentle vigor. She continued to whisper to me words of
kindness, of instruction, of confidence. I strained to reach her,
still strapped to the whipping post, she held me at the precise
position that she deemed fit.
Controlling me.
Directing me.
Slowing me down when I rushed.
Giving me guidance.
It was my first act of intimacy since I had arrived. My pain hummed in
the background, a low constant buzz, as the warmness from my loins
started to overwhelm my pain.

Lucinda took her time, getting exactly what she wanted, exactly when
she wanted it. Over and over we repeated this until I was dizzy with
exhaustion, pain, tightness and lust. My pussy growled with
anticipation as I lapped away at her rosebud. Finally she was done.
She stepped back. I tried to reach her, but the whipping post held
firm. My eyes glazed over, my world had shrunk from the world, to the
estate, to this room, to Lucinda, to now Lucinda's pussy. Nothing else
existed. She smiled.
"That was adequate, little one," she said. She lowered her latex
skirt, checked herself in the mirror.
I waited.
A glimmer of hope within me wondered if she would return the favor and
quench my thirst for orgasm. I had been on the edge for sometime now
and was desperate to finish. She must have noticed the look in my
face, the one of frustrated anticipation, as she smiled in the mirror,
her eyes now focused on me, her back still to me, "I don't think it
would be appropriate that I reward you for your failure, no?" My
stomach churned, a pit formed inside me. The mere mention of the word
failure now had a strong affect on my physical being. I fought back
the nausea, the buzzing between my thighs quickly died down. I shook
my head and dropped my eyes. "No mistress. You are of course, right."
How dare I presume to be allowed that special gift after I had
committed a transgression? I chastised myself in my mind.

She turned, faced me and came towards me. Dropping down on her knees
she now was the same height as me. She looked me dead in the eyes, "I
don't have to remind you that that gift has not been allowed for you...
yet." She trailed off. I nodded. "Don't be stupid and try to take care
of yourself, when no one is looking," she warned me. It was a threat
of tremendous magnitude. The estate had cameras, workers, and other
slaves, everyone watching out for everyone else. There was never
privacy. No where could anyone be sure that they were alone and
unwatched. You're at first paranoid, but soon we slaves accepted it as
a fact of life. We do not have anything, rights, things or privacy.
Lucinda's warning reminded me that even tucked away in my kennel, in
the middle of the night, that touching myself there would not be worth
the punishment for discovery. I had been spared one infraction; I
would never have another chance for mercy.
I nodded again, "yes mistress, I understand." And I did understand,
completely.

I renewed my resolve to become the best slave that I could be. Gone
were the eavesdropping, the wondering about the world outside, what
the main house looked like inside. I replaced all of those questions
with my own will power to blank out everything except the task set
before me. In many ways, it was very liberating. I killed my old self,
and a new rebirth occurred. I had no more worries, no more questions.
Everything was out of my hands now. I had no control or
responsibilities other than doing the task that I was trained for. To
become the best slave, I emptied my mind, focused on my world and
enjoyed the freedom of no worries, and just being.

I no longer saw Lucinda. I do not know what happened to her. It was
out of my scope, so I worried not about it. The beatings and torments
still occurred, there were many nights when I was roused from my
sleep, dragged from the floor of my cell, and forced to provide
pleasure for house slaves. No men were permitted to despoil kennel
slaves, if they ever rose to a rank where they would be for Master's
pleasure, he would not have accepted a slave that had already been
"used" by the help.

I focused on obeying, doing what was asked of me, even if it meant
suffering at the hands of some perverted frustrated house slave, I
paid my dues, and over time the frequency of these rites of passage
lessoned. There were other kennel slaves, fresher meat that needed
molding, training, and discipline.

TRAINING MY REPLACEMENT

One morning I was informed when I was awoken by a house slave, that I
would be training a new kennel slave in my duties. Nodding, I went
about training the new kennel slave, a small mousy Arab girl, the
duties that I performed. I had been given permission to "correct" her
within the normal limits. She was scared, and looked tired. Her hair
matted and dirty, scabs along her arms, the bugs had feasted on her in
her cell. My first task was to clean her up. She would not be
presentable as a greeter in her current state.

She shivered as I washed her, working away at tough stains of dirt,
encrusted in the cracks and crevices of her body. She tried to engage
me in conversation. In hushed whispers, she asked me for my name. She
almost blurted out her name. I shushed her, roughly placing my hand
over her mouth. "We do not have names, we have not earned that right,"
I said.
She was silent for a moment, and then tried to ask me where I was from
before I came here. She was terrified, confused, disoriented. She was
looking for someone, or something to settle her mind, to anchor her
back to her past.
I stopped the water. Grabbed her by her wet hair, and pulled her to a
ring mounted on the side of the wall. I quickly clipped her collar to
the wall with a padlock, locked her there, facing the wall, naked and
dripping wet. She stood a little under five feet, about a half a foot
smaller than I.
"Slave," I hissed into her ear. "Learn this lesson well! There is no
past, there is no name, there is no future. You exist here and now,
and that is what counts. I learned the hard way that thinking beyond
my means equals FAILURE!"
I pulled out a whip that hung on the wall near the ring, these little
punishment rings and whipping instruments were placed all over the
estate for quick correction. Any higher slave had the right to use it
on a lower slave for correction. The little Arab girl tested her
locked collar. Her face was pressed closely to the wall, her back and
ass exposed to me. It was quite effective, as I placed the key out of
her reach.
"You do remember what Failure means," I said, reminding her of the
first days visit to that cabin. That lesson continued to imprint
heavily on every slave, old or new.
She shuddered, "yes," she gasped.
WHACK! I struck her back with the whip.
"Yes, what?" I pressed.
"Yes...mistress." She sobbed.
I smiled. This was my first time punishing a slave. Memories of my
torments flooded my mind, as I whipped her good and hard. My
frustration finally found an outlet, and for the first of many times,
I finally understood how the house slaves could be so cruel to me with
their punishments and torments.
"Learn this lesson well!" I screamed. "Unlike me, you will not be
logged for this incident as a failure. You are still new, and logging
a failure for you will reflect badly on me as well."
I continued whipping her all over her body, her private parts were not
spared as I continued.
"You are very lucky to get a warning, slut! Most slaves do not get one
and are marked for failure. You will survive this, but after that it's
up to you to be the best slave you can be."
I passed the whip to my other hand and continued whipping the sobbing
mast of flesh in front of me. She twisted her body as best she could
to avoid the blows, but tethered as she was, she was no match to my
pent up frustrated rage.
"Failure," I continued, "means your worthless life as you know it now
will be filled with the pain you are feeling right now, for the rest
of your miserable life, be it short or long! Your mind will turn to
mush before the very end! You will not know what no pain is, as you
will never stop feeling the pain inflicted on your worthless body and
mind. You do not own your body, mind or soul anymore. The sooner you
get that through your thick skull, the better you will be able to
serve. Only very, very, VERY, lucky slaves are allowed a minor
failure. Master does not tolerate failure!"
Both my arms were rubbery from the lashing I had given her. I smacked
her one last time, this time aimed right on her pussy. She wailed one
last time, choking on her tears.
"Count this as a correction, and be sure you do not fail, slave." I
warned her ominously.

I hung the whip up and sat down on the floor to rest. She stood there,
rooted to the ring on the wall, sobbing and panting. She tried to rub
her sore body, but could only reach a few parts of her backside. She
kept muttering in whispered pants, "Yes, mistress, sorry mistress,
thank you, mistress." I regained some strength and pulled myself up
and unlocked her from the wall and proceeded to dress her wounds and
clean her up. I fitted her with a leather cross body harness, and
pulled out of the washroom and back to the training.

PROMOTION

The next morning, a house slave awakened me and commanded me to come
with her. I was informed that my little Arab girl trainee was now
ready to do the tasks I had trained her to do on her own. I followed
the house slave past the main house to a small building set in the
wooded area. She knocked three times, and then opened the door and
brought me in. I was guided to a large room on the main floor and
placed in front of a table where sat five house slaves. I was allowed
to stand at attention, head back, chest thrust out, arms glued to my
sides, and my legs spread open in front of them.
"Slave," said the one in the middle. "You are here, because an opening
for a new house slave has become available, and we are to decide
whether you will be appropriate for the position."
I tried to hide any hint of excitement and joy.
Another one asked, "Do you wish to become a house slave?"
"I am a slave," I replied. "It is not up to me to wish or decide. I
will simply do as I am told."
They smiled. After a few moments, the house slave on the end, a dark
woman, held up and read from a piece of paper. "I have here, a
recommendation, from Slave Lucinda." She dropped the paper down and
stared at me. "She speaks quite highly of you."
"Yes, mistress," I replied keeping my head up and looking at nothing.
"We all have been keeping a close eye on you since you were logged by
Slave Lucinda." She continued. "Some of us had our doubts about you,
but we think that since then you have proved your worth."
"Yes, mistress," I replied.
"Besides," she continued, since we have the recommendation in writing
from Lucinda, then she will be most responsible for your failure...
should it come about." She smiled.
The others did as well. Lucinda had gone out on a limb for me. If not
for that, the others would most certainly have not given my potential
promotion any chance.
The house slave on the other end, a fat older woman, past her prime,
had a gentle gleam in her eye. "We all are responsible for her,
promoting her will not be on Lucinda's head only. Are you comfortable
with that Slave Shirley?"

The others were quiet as they waited for Shirley to decide. They were
taking a chance with me, just like they took a chance on anyone that
they would use to fill the position. Shirley seemed to be the
dissenter amongst the group, but at that moment, I also recognized
that her words held sway with the others.
After a minute of quite, Shirley nodded. "I am comfortable with this
choice, Slave Mildred."
"Vote," said Mildred, the old fat one on the end. "All in favor?"
They all raised their hands.
"Settled then," Mildred said. She smiled and picked up a file folder
with papers and photos in it. "Now to business. Slave, you have been
promoted to house slave. No longer will you live in the kennels. You
have earned the right to an outfit, and more importantly to a name. We
are known as the house council, and we decide what to name one of
ours. From now on you have the right to the name Calista." She paused.
I nodded, "Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress."
Mildred smiled.
"All house slaves before you are your highers. You will answer to
them. All house slaves that come after you will be your lowers. They
and the kennel slaves will answer to you. You are responsible for
correcting anything that comes to your attention. You have new duties
and tasks, new protocols to learn. You will be trained. All house
slaves have earned the right of their names, however they are still
nothing but slaves. Honor them by addressing them with their full
title: Slave Calista. Is that clear?"
"Yes, mistress." I said.
"You have a new stature now. You are not required to call any house
slave by mistress anymore. That title belongs to our superiors, the
Harem slaves."
Harem slaves? There was another group? Just how many people, sorry
slaves were on this estate, I thought to myself.
"Yes, Slave Mildred," I corrected myself.
"Good," said Mildred. The others began to rise to leave. "Slave
Jacinta, the one who brought you here will be responsible for your
training. She will dress you, and instruct you on what is expected of
you. We feel confident that you desire to do nothing but serve and
become the best slave you can be. That means doing what is asked of
you, the first time, every time. I trust we understand each other?"
She looked me directly in the eyes. I met her gaze, nodded and said,
"Yes Slave Mildred, loud and clear."
Her eyes were cloudy with age, how long had she been here, how long
had she been a slave? She was like the wise old den mother, the madam,
and she seemed to take pride in her role. They all had taken a chance
on me, and I vowed that they would not regret it as Slave Jacinta led
me to her new quarters, to be trained in my new life, in my new world.
The entrance to the main house was not to come for another two weeks.
The building where the council had taken place was also the training
quarters and housing for the house slaves. I was led upstairs to the
top floor attic and was shown a small Spartan room with a mattress on
the floor. A small wardrobe was the only other piece of furniture in
the room. Jacinta was Latin, but seemed to have more native Indian in
her than Spanish. Her face was pushed flat, and her course features
made her no real beauty. Her black hair was straight and proper. Her
eyes were spread wide apart and gave her an expression of simpleness.
What she lacked in facial features, she more than made up for it with
her body. She had perfect curves for a Latin woman in all the right
places, her ass had that Latin bubble butt, and her breasts were more
than ample. As I looked at her, I couldn't guess her age, she could be
as young as eighteen or as old as thirty five.

She opened the wardrobe and pulled out the latex wet dream of a French
maids outfit, handed it to me and bent over to pull the six inch black
patent heels out as well. Heels. It had been a long time since wearing
heels, and I was never really too surefooted with them. Never before
had I worn heels this high.
"You have two of these outfits," Jacinta said. "This way, you can
always have a clean one on hand if you become dirty or...spoiled."
I blushed and nodded imagining that cum would be more of an issue than
dirt would be for these outfits.
"It is your job to make sure that they remain clean. If anyone notices
you in disarray, that will be a failure." She paused. I tightened as
well. We both knew what failure meant.
Jacinta continued. "If you need help or are unsure as to what to do,
you may always ask another house slave for advice or help. We all are
here to help each other." She looked around, then leaned in and
whispered, "Some of use are not as helpful as we should be, so be
careful!"
She straightened up and continued. I took heed of her warning well.
Unlike the kennels, the house slaves had a little bit of power, and
with that power came an arrogance of abuse. I had already witnessed a
pecking order amongst them. Slaves like Mildred had languished in the
position of house slave for almost all their lives. Watching others
apparently getting promoted to higher positions. Politics. High
school. All the same.

Jacinta smiled as she saw me register what she had just clued me in
on. She then stroked my hair. "Your blonde hair is so pretty," she
said as she pulled me to her. "Your lips, so full! You are very
pretty." I smiled, allowed her to embrace me. I moved my hips over her
leg and ground my crotch onto her stocking leg. She pulled away like I
had hit her.
"No, no, no," she admonished me. "You are not allowed that yet."
I blinked, then sighed.
Jacinta pulled me to her again. "We have very explicit instructions
for you," she whispered. "Normally, at this point, house slaves are
allowed orgasm. It is as much for the trainer as it is for the
trainee." She pouted her lips.
"But it was instructed by Master himself that you are not to be
allowed an orgasm."
She shook her head at me, a tear welled up in her eye as she could
empathize with the frustration I had so far gone through.
"It is very rare for Master to be involved with a house slave. I have
heard of this happening before, and normally that means that Master
has something special planned for a slave. Whether that is good, or
bad, I cannot say. Rumors tell of one that Master sold to a very mean
Mistress, who locked their slave up in a chastity belt, and didn't
allow her one orgasm for the rest of her life."
I shuddered when I heard this. As it was, I could not remember the
last orgasm I had, and I certainly had not been allowed one since
becoming a slave.
Jacinta smiled, stroking my face, still in her embrace, she softly
said, "Please, Slave Calista, take my warning. Master does not wish
you to orgasm. If you cannot control yourself, tell us, we will help
you to stay away from failure."
I shuddered again at the sound of that word, and nodded.
"Now," she squealed. "It's time for you to get dressed!"

For two weeks I was trained. Jacinta worked me hard and long. Others
helped in my progress as well. All protocols were instilled in my
head. I would be in the main house soon. I would be in the presence of
guests, harem slaves, and my Master. I was coached on every situation
that might crop up. It was fairly easy, if anything happened, all I
would have to do is what I was instructed to do. Being the lowest of
stature, anything anyone told me to do, I would do. Protocol was what
Jacinta and the others worked with me on, how far down a curtsey
should go, how the table should be set, how to clean a room, dust,
mop, wash, fold laundry. How to great guests, how to pack and unpack
guests and Masters luggage. Everything a chambermaid was expected to
do, I was trained to do.

LUCINDA

Two days before my training finished, a commotion occurred downstairs.
Everyone rushed to see what had happened. In the main room, where the
council had met to decide my fate, stood Slave Lucinda, the slave who
had taught me my lesson so long ago. She held a leash attached to
another girls collar and was yanking it viciously. Lucinda was
Italian, olive skinned, dark hair, classic features. She was model
beautiful. Tall, strong, and lean. She wore dark red lipstick and
painted nails. She had an air of authority over the other girl, who
unlike Lucinda's French maids uniform, wore a smart sexy outfit,
transparent, slutty, and modern. This girl had a steel collar locked
around her, just like the rest of us. She was a red head, pale skin,
skinny, with freckles. She had one hand wrapped around the collar
between it and her neck, to ease the pain of Lucinda's jerking of the
leash.
"This slut here," Lucinda said, above the din of excitement. The
others hushed up, "was a harem slave." So that was one of them! I
thought.
"Her Master," Lucinda continued, "has grown tired of her and has
demoted her back to house slave."
There was a loud murmur as all the house slaves muttered to each
other. The harem slave looked around the room, surrounded by house
slaves. Her eyes were large like a hunted rabbit. Fear was in the air.
"She has been replaced..." Lucinda said. "By me!" and with that she
grabbed at the harem slaves dress and tore it way from her. The harem
slave shrieked. The other house slaves lunged towards her and stripped
her viciously. She gasped and tried to fend them off, but was soon
wrestled to the floor, where she was stripped, scratched and beaten.
She howled in pain and fury, as she was kicked to the corner of the
room. Slave Shirley now had a hold of the harem slaves leash, wrapped
the leash twice around her hand and "heeled' her next to herself. The
look of glee in Shirley's eyes, made me feel very sad for the poor
harem slave. In my short time in the household, I discovered that it
was wise to steer clear of Shirley. She was the most vindictive and
cruel of all the house slaves, and all others tended to fear her.

All eyes turned back to Lucinda, who now ceremoniously ordered the
house slaves to gently remove her house slave uniform. They were only
too happy to join in with the promotion of one of their own ranks to
the treasured status of Harem slave. For a moment, in all her regal
glory, Lucinda caught my eye. It was the first time I had seen her in
ages. She smiled with recognition and a sly grin followed that. There
was something she knew that no one else did, and she wasn't going to
share it.

Once her uniform was removed, a new outfit was produced. It was a red
spandex mini dress, that hugged all her curves. Partially see through,
she truly exuded sex now.
"Mistress Lucinda," said Mildred, the old fat house slave. She bowed
and all the others followed her lead. "I bid congratulations to you."
She came forward and kissed Mistress Lucinda's offered hand. The
others lined up and followed. When it came to my turn, Mistress
Lucinda stopped me from leaving.
"Welcome Slave Calista," she said warmly. "I trust you are doing well
with your training?"
I nodded. "Yes, Mistress Lucinda. I have you to thank for this
opportunity. I will never forget it."
She smiled that knowing grin again. "I will hold you to that," she
said, then waved me away. Soon afterwards, she left for the main
house, and never returned.

That evening, Shirley took it upon herself to show the former harem
slave what her new status was. The shrieks and wails coming from
Shirley's room made me thankful that Shirley had never focused her
"attention" on me. The next morning I saw that the former harem slave,
now seemed almost glued to Shirley's right leg. On all fours, she
followed Shirley around the house, with Shirley's hand firmly wrapping
up the slack from the leash. She was still naked, and had horrible
purple welts all along her body. She never uttered a word, looked to
Shirley for everything, and had a traumatized fear set deep into her
green eyes.

Later that day, a man came to the house and grabbed Shirley and the
former harem slave, leashing both of them together. He grabbed the
chain, and roughly dragged them out of the house. That was the only
time I saw Shirley, as strong as she was, as dominant as she was, as
cruel as she was, in total and absolute fear for her entire being. The
two of them never came back.

THE MAIN HOUSE

The time had come for me to join the main house. My training complete,
I was eager to finally see the inside of the large beautiful French
manor house. Jacinta was paired with me, and led me to the servant's
entrance around the side of the house. We came in through the
kitchens, where the small kitchen staff was preparing breakfast.
Mildred, as it turned out, was the head chef, she was busy ordering
the other house slaves in her kitchen to finish the meals. The others
scurried around, busily getting together plates and dishes, and the
cooked foods ready for serving. Jacinta and I waited off to the side
of the gleaming stainless steel and bleach white kitchen, out of the
way, until Mildred did one final inspection of the breakfast plates.
Satisfied that they were up to her standards, she beckoned us to take
them away for serving.

I followed Jacinta with a large tray of dishes of my own as we climbed
the stairs up to the main floor. The alcove at the top of the stairs
opened up to a large formal dining room. A spotless black and white
checkered marble floor supported a large, long solid oak dining table
that had room for at least twenty guests. Jacinta set her tray down on
an equally large oak buffet along the wall, and I followed suit. She
pointed out to me where the settings should go, and we quickly
finished setting everything out as a few guests wandered into the
dining room. Without a word, we backed up against the wall, and stood
perfectly still.
I was a bit nervous, and wondered if my outfit was straight. I fought
the urge to try to adjust myself, not wishing to draw any attention to
myself. As the guests seated themselves, Master strolled in and took a
seat at the head of the large table.
Dressed in a dark silk robe, Master stood at six foot, average to
muscular build, dirty blond hair and blue eyes. His rounded face was
smooth and ageless. He could easily be twenty-seven, but I suspected
he was closer to forty. He commanded the entire room with his
presence. So this was my Master, I thought to myself. I was both
scared and anxious of his notice. He had a boyish cuteness about
himself, and although I was trained to not follow my superior's
conversations, I did notice that he had a very jovial effect on his
guests, as they ate.
One of the guests beckoned me with his hand. I swallowed and strode
towards his left side, as I had been trained. It was Sir Jon, and he
was eager for some more coffee. The coffee pot sat in the middle of
the table, easily within his reach, however, when there are slaves
around, even the smallest task, can be relegated to them. I nodded and
reached towards the coffee pot, my body bending at the waist, and my
black latex maids' skirt, already too short, rode high up my bare
exposed ass, my garters and stocking tops revealed for all the guests
to see.
His hand, large and rough with calluses, quickly pawed my cheek, as I
stifled a yelp and tried to concentrate on grabbing the heavy coffee
pot and pour more coffee for Sir Jon, without spilling and without
moving my body away from his touch. A glace from the corner of my eye,
revealed, that Sir Jon, had continued his animated conversation with
Master and the rest of the guests, without paying me any attention,
other than idly kneading my ass. A warm vibration buzzed within my
loin as this man's touch rode over me and the idea that I was indeed
an object, to be used without mind or worry settled in. I focused on
finishing my task, and then placed the coffee pot back to its spot.
Now what?
For a moment, I panicked within myself, unsure if I should remain,
bent over the dining room table, with Sir Jon's hand stroking my ass,
or straighten up, and excuse myself back to my station. The
humiliation of being an object, exposed for the guests, as they
ignored me, got me excited. I remembered my training, and stayed where
I was. I was to do what I was told, or instructed, nothing else.

I waited in my position for a few more moments, when Sir Jon, released
his hand from my ass, and dismissed me back to my position with a
pulling motion. A bit flushed, I backed up to my position, and tried
to compose myself. After their breakfast, Jacinta and I cleared the
table, and quickly carried our laden trays back down to the kitchen. I
then followed Jacinta upstairs, this time taking the second flight off
to the side of the dining room alcove and traveled up to the second
floor. Presented with a hallway, rightly appointed in red carpet and
what I could only guess where antiques. Jacinta, knocked quietly on
the first door, waited a moment then entered. I followed to discover
that these rooms were the guest quarters, and our next task was going
about making up the room.

This room was empty, and looked to be occupied by one of the women who
had dinned downstairs for breakfast, as the vanity was filled with
various bottles of makeup, perfume, and creams. We changed the sheets,
bundling the dirty ones in a pile near the door, and pulling out fresh
ones from the linen closet. Master seemed to run a hotel out of his
main house, and with that the services that are expected from a fine
hotel, plus a few extra services!

The next room we entered, I was startled to find a man and a woman
still in bed. The older silver haired man beckoned us to come in and
do our cleaning duties while he continued to pay attention to his
guest. She was a dark skinned woman, stretched out on the bed, face
down. The covers and blankets had been pulled off the bed and lay in a
heap at the foot of the bed. I went over to take them, and crouching
down to gather them up, I discovered that the dark skinned girl on the
bed, was actually shackled to the four corner posts of the wrought
iron bed frame. She was panting, moaning even. Her face inches from
mine, as I caught a glimpse into her eyes, her face lying on its side.
The eyes were dull, exhausted, in pain. I imagined for a moment that
she had mouthed the words "Help me", but just then, the old grey
haired man, slammed his hand down upon her, and her face scrunched up
into a withered out moan.
"There, there," he softly caressed her. Her eyes rolled back into her
skull, as the tender damaged skin was being manipulated by the man.
"We've taken all night playing, just to warm you up." He continued.
Then hit her again. A deep moan emanated from within her, yet it never
reached her mouth.
"We still have all weekend, for the main course!"
Oh my god! I thought. She had been like this all night, and it was
only the prelude to his handiwork. I quickly pulled the sheets and
covers up and took them to the pile near the door. Jacinta worked
quickly, straightening up as best she could, all while this man,
continued to strike the bound stretched out dark skinned girl on the
bed. Her moans had turned guttural, animal.
I concentrated on the other side of the room, and came across a
folding case. It was like a fishing tackle box, only this one was
spread wide open with large stainless steel medical type instruments.
"You can leave that as it is," the voice startled me, as I pulled my
hand away from it like from a hot fire. I turned around, saw him fully
for the first time, and nodded in obedience. He had a gentle face,
almost grandfatherly. He sat in stark contrast to the dark skinned
woman stretched to the limit in her bounds on the bed. His posture was
of one with all the time and patience of the world, contrasted by the
prostrate dark skinned girl, exhausted, and anxious to get the
unpleasantness over and done with. He stared humming a tune as he
picked up a new instrument of torture. Adjusting it, he then proceeded
to insert it into her rectum. The dark skinned girl tensed and
strained at her bonds. A small whimper exited her pert mouth, along
with a line of droll that added to the pool on the sheet under her
head. We quickly finished up and left for the next room.

A NEW BOSS

That evening, the vacuum of power left by Shirley's departure, began
to right itself as Jacinta and I were accosted by Slave Stella, a red-
headed house maid with a teen aged spoiled bitchy face. "Bitches!" she
screamed at us, grabbing hold of both of our hair. "Get the fuck in
here!" Dragging us into the main room, she dropped both of us down in
a pile on the floor. She towered over us, still in her patent pumps
and maids uniform, she threatened in her most intimidating voice, "Now
that Shirley is gone, I'm in charge!"
Jacinta nodded, I was a little slow, not comprehending what she meant.
WHACK! WHACK!
She slapped me across my face. Both my cheeks burned. I was
dumbfounded.
"Seeing as you're new here," she explained. "Let me make this clear."
She bent down and grabbed a fist full of my hair and yanked my head
around, twisting it evilly until I stared right into her cold brown
eyes.
"I'm in charge when Master isn't around. Alpha slave here." She spat
in my face.
"You do what I say, when I say bitch, or else you'll wish you've never
been born! Got that?" she was inches away from my face.
I nodded.
"What?" she prompted, tugging further on my hair.
"Yes, Slave Stella!" I gasped.
WHACK! WHACK!
She slapped me again. "Bitch! It's Mistress to you! Now do you
UNDERSTAND?"
"Yyy..eesssss!" I managed to stutter out.
She smiled, well her mouth smiled, the rest of her face remained cold,
and impassioned. The look scared me. From somewhere I know not, she
pulled out a leash; quickly clipping it onto my collar she tugged me
out of the room, up the stairs and into her room.
Slamming the door, she threw me to the ground.
"Oh yes, my little pretty! You may be special, but there's been plenty
of you before. We can't let you think just because you've been
flagged, that you are more than a worthless, pigslut whore of shit
slave. You are no fucking better than me!" She screamed.
What was she talking about? Flagged? I knew I had been logged for my
one discretion, but I was sure she was talking about that.
She pulled out a large wooden paddle from her wardrobe, a look of joy
in her face appeared as she ordered me to assume punishment position.
I was shaking as I knelt in the center of the room, prostrated myself,
my ass in the air, my arms stretched out before my head, my face
pressed to the floor.
There was no warm up. There was no warning. There was no word from
her, just a horrendous crack from the wooden paddle. Wooden bat would
be more appropriate as I howled in agony from the first blow. A second
crack issued from the paddle, my other cheek was now aflame in pins
and needs of pain. Ten blows later, I was bawling like a baby, trying
to catch my breath as tears and snot emptied out of my face from
everywhere.
"Look at you now, little slut!" she paused as she grabbed a hold of my
leash again and dragged me towards her bed. Sitting on the edge, she
drew me in so that my face was pressed up against her crotch. She had
lifted her miniskirt to reveal her bare pussy. Already the lips were
parted, her juices were flowing from the beating and excitement of
power.
"Let's see how high and mighty you are after I'm through with you,
shit!"
She brought the paddle down hard on my ass again. I screamed, by was
cut short by her yanking the leash and pulling my face into her pussy.
"Lick it, skank! When Master isn't here, I own your ass! You do what I
say, when I say! Lick it, and you better get me to come in the next
two minutes or else I'll skin your ass!"
She brought the paddle crashing down on me again. The pain was
unbearable, yet the fear of missing the imposed time limit was
incentive enough for me to focus on my mistress's task. I licked for
all that I was worth. I tried to block out the pain, but the
percussion of the beating kept me off balance with my lick and
sucking.
Mistress started to stiffen, her regularity with the blows from the
paddle decreased. Her pungent orange aroma became toxic as it filled
the room, filled my lungs and filled hers. She dropped the paddle mid
swing, locked her legs around my head and groaned. Now I only wondered
if I had gotten her off in time. I continued licking, gently now,
afraid to stop as mistress had not told me to stop.
"Nice work, piss drinker," she said, regaining her composure, She
grabbed the paddle and landed another blow on my ass. I wailed into
her pussy, still trying to lick it, hopeful for some reprieve. "Now as
to not be called a liar, I have a surprise for you!" I wondered what
she meant for a moment, until I felt the trickle of fluid coming from
her. A stream of piss came out of her as she mashed my mouth over her
pussy and proceeded to give me my first drink of her piss. Strong and
acidic, I managed to gulp down all of the fluid from my mistress. She
sighed for a moment, then pushed me away. I looked up at her, my face
a wet mess, makeup running, waiting for her next command. I tested my
feeling in my ass cheeks by shifting my weight onto it. That was a
mistake as I winced in pain and rolled onto my calves instead for
support.
She stood up, stared down at me and smiled. "Now bitch, undress your
mistress!" I quickly stood up and went to her.
"This will be your duty from now on, my little cunt. Every night, you
will present yourself to your mistress and beg her to have the
pleasure to undress me."
"Yes, mistress." I said as I went to take off her outfit. She slapped
my hand away. Confused, I stopped and looked at her. She wheeled
around and slapped me again in my face.
"Cunt! What is your task?" she demanded. She slapped me again.
"To present myself to my mistress every evening and beg her for the
pleasure to undress her." I repeated.
"Well?" she prodded.
I got the hint, knelt before her and said, "Please mistress Stella,
may this slave..."
"Unworthy cunt of a slave!" She clarified.
"May this unworthy cunt of a slave," I corrected myself, "have the
pleasure of undressing mistress Stella?"
"I think," she added, "since you love this paddle so much, that you
should beg to be paddled before I would even consider granting the
privilege of undressing me, don't you think so, cunt?"
I swallowed. The paddle was so far one of the worst punishments I had
taken, and I was not eager to experience it again. Yet now mistress
was demanding that I beg for it every evening before I would be able
to go about my task of undressing her.
"Well, cunt?" she said as she smacked the paddle down on my raw ass
again.
I hesitated.
"Oh, I know what torture you are going through, slave. Remember this
lesson well, cunt!"
I gritted my teeth, "Please mistress, please paddle me before..."
WHACK! Another blow from the paddle. "Me?" she prompted.
I started again, begging for the worst pain I had received, begging
for more, begging to have it every night, begging for something I
dreaded already, and wished to never experience ever again. But I was
a slave, what I wanted had no matter on anything anymore.
"Please mistress, please paddle this unworthy cunt of a slave before
this unworthy cunt of a slave begs you to allow her to undr..."
WHACK! "Her?" she interrupted.
"Please mistress, please paddle this unworthy cunt of a slave before
this unworthy cunt of a slave begs you to allow this unworthy cunt of
a slave to undress you for the evening."
There, I had done it, completed it!
She grabbed my face. "You are to refer to yourself in this way among
all the other house slaves, understand?" She had just taken away my
right to be called Slave Calista. The name I had worked so hard to
earn. The bitch! How could she?
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! She paddled me three times as I screamed, "Yes,
mistress! I understand!"
"Good," she said. "Now as far as the paddling, assume the position,
please!"
I groaned, and crawled over to the middle of the floor, assuming the
punishment position again. After fifteen more blows, I was mad with
pain. My eyes couldn't focus, I couldn't stand, I could barely breath.
Mistress placed the paddle in front of my face. "Kiss it, cunt! Thank
your lovely paddle for taking the time to give you that which you so
begged for!"
The damn infernal instrument! It was bad enough the pain it gave me,
now the bitch wanted me to kiss it! Mocking me, she held me in her
power. I was helpless to do anything other than what she demanded. I
kissed it.
"Thank you, paddle, for taking time out to please this unworthy cunt
of a slave."
Mistress smiled, walked over to the wardrobe and waited.
I crawled over to her, knelt before her and started the second part of
my nightly task.
"May this unworthy cunt of a slave, have the pleasure of undressing
mistress Stella?" I said.
She waited, savoring the moment, then nodded. "Yes you may, cunt!"
I rose shakily onto my high heeled feet and slowly undressed her. The
top first, then the skirt. I hung each article up then went to the
next. I took her cap off, placing the hair pins in a bowl.
"Stockings next," she said and pointed to a spot on the floor next to
the bed. "Sit here, while you do that."
I groaned, knowing that I would be resting all my weight on my abused
ass, which was on fire. I sat and shrieked in pain. Mistress Stella
just laughed, as she proffered one leg, the next after I had taken her
heels off.
Once finished, she unclipped the leash from my collar, then embracing
me, she pushed my against the wall, grabbed both of my sore ass cheeks
and roughly kneaded them as she raped my mouth with her tongue. I
screamed into her mouth, which seemed to excite her more. Then she
opened the door and pushed me out into the hall. I had been excused
for the night.

 The next morning the purple welts had darkened to an almost black
hue. I had applied cream and ointment onto my ass after limping back
to my room. The pain kept me up all night long as I tried to find a
position that provided some sort of comfort. I cried almost all night
long, till my tears dried up. The humiliation and trapped feeling of
having to repeat this torture every evening, sunk deeply within my
soul. My body shook, reliving the thrashing I had been given, no that
I had begged to have. Now this groveling would have to be repeated by
this worthless cunt of a slave every night, at the mercy of mistress
Stella.

That evening I knocked at mistress Stella's door, head bowed, waiting
for her to answer it. The door swung open revealing mistress Stella,
latex maids' uniform still intact, with a wicked smile on her face. Oh
how she was cherishing this. I had heard from Jacinta that mistress
Stella had done the same thing to her only just this morning, putting
Jacinta in her place, and "assigning" her the task of dressing
mistress Stella each morning.

The two of us limped around all day, doing our chores, trying to
ignore the throbbing pain from our blackened asses. Jacinta, seemed to
be taking it a little better than I. She shrugged when I asked her how
she felt about it, simply stating that whatever was, was. She had no
control over anything, so why worry about it.

Without a word, mistress Stella stepped away from the entrance and
allowed me to enter. I went to the center of the room, knelt down,
assuming the correct position and then proceeded with my task.
"Please mistress, please paddle this unworthy cunt of a slave before
this unworthy cunt of a slave begs you to allow this unworthy cunt of
a slave to undress you for the evening." I begged. I hated it. I hated
asking for the paddling. That evil paddle, the very thing that I did
not want, mistress Stella enjoyed making me beg for.
She smiled, looked down at me, her heels and stocking legs beside me.
"I don't know cunt, I don't get the sense that you truly wish for the
paddle..." she mocked, the evil bitch.
I groaned inwardly, I hated every minute of it.
"Please mistress, PLEASE PADDLE this unworthy CUNT of a slave before
this unworthy CUNT of a slave begs you to allow this unworthy cunt of
a slave to undress you for the evening." I pleaded.
"Do you like the paddle, cunt?" she asked.
Sigh. "Yes mistress, this unworthy cunt of a slave likes the paddle."
"Ahh," she retorted. "You like, but do not love?"
I moaned. She relished this. She was pushing me farther.
"Yes mistress, this unworthy cunt of a slave loves the paddle. Please
use it on this unworthy cunt of a slave."
"Well, if you so insist, cunt!" she offered me the paddle to kiss. I
lifted my head up and kissed the hard solid wooden paddle. She walked
around behind me, and I awaited the first strike. My ass was still
black. She lifted my miniskirt. "Such a lovely color, cunt!" she
rubbed the paddle over the bruises and welts. I sobbed at the very
contact of it.
"Such a little painslut, you are," she hissed. "If this was my ass, I
would be begging to never be paddled again."
At that moment I really couldn't appreciate the irony of that
statement. She knew full well that she had forced me to ask for this.
This abuse that was the thing I wanted the least in the whole wide
world.
"But you," she continued. "After all the abuse, the damage done to
that poor ass, you want more. Who but a little painslut would beg for
more?"
She paused. I guess she wanted an answer because she then added,
"Well? Who?"
"This unworthy cunt of a slave does, mistress!" I answered. So
fiendish, so diabolical. She truly was enjoying this.
"Well, painslut, since you have begged for it, although I don't
understand why you would want more abuse," she positioned herself to
strike. "I will be gracious and grant you your wish, cunt! But
remember that I am doing you a favor here, understand?"
Evil! Not only had she gotten me to beg for a punishment I did not
want, but now had made it seem like she was doing me a favor by
granting my forced request.
"This unworthy cunt of a slave does, mistress! Thank you mistress!" I
said. Then I screamed in pain as the first blow struck my tender ass.

A NEW ACCESSORY

No one came to my aid. Mistress Stella brutalized me every night for
weeks. After the first night she would go easy on me with the paddle,
till my ass healed just enough that the bruises were a light yellow.
The she would inflict brutal damage on them again. I think I went two
months without sitting because of the damage to my ass. She did the
same to Jacinta, so I had a partner in misery, at the very least. I
also became quiet adept at orally pleasing mistress Stella, as she
kept me kneeling before her, my face in her crotch, for hours after I
had been paddled and had finished undressing her. The whole act,
although I'm sure the paddling was most of it, made Stella extremely
wet and horny. As she corrected me and my technique, she verbally
humiliated me; the painslut cunt licker who was worthless for anything
else. I endeavored to do my best, and over time, the beatings she
administered me, and the names she called me, started to excite me.
She picked up on this and started to deny me the pleasure of the
paddlings, and the verbal abuse. Often she would refuse my begging and
pleading for the paddle, simply instructing me to undress her and
leave. She had no use for a painslut that got off on the paddle.
Leaving me empty, she would push me out of her room, leaving me to an
empty night. I had become so worthless that I didn't even earn the
punishment that I now yearned and craved for.

The tingle was becoming too much for me. My frustration level had
become so high, that I could no longer trust myself. I went to seek
out Slave Mildred. The motherly old woman. She was the best person to
make the request to, as I did not wish to show further weakness to
mistress Stella for what I was about to ask for.

I went to Slave Mildred's room and knocked lightly. She answered, and
brought me in. Remembering my new station that mistress Stella had
enforced I started, "This unworthy cunt of a slave needs to speak with
you Slave Mildred."
"Yes? What is it?" she asked. After the first evening of mistress
Stella imposing her new rules on me, I had been surprised that all of
the other slaves had accepted mistress Stella's renaming of me to
'this unworthy cunt of a slave'. It seemed that my newly earned name
had been replaced, without so much as a hint of objection from any
other house slave.
I continued.
"I have been..."
"I?" Slave Mildred asked? She was correcting and reinforcing mistress
Stella's commands. I started over.
"This unworthy cunt of a slave has been told that Master does not want
it to orgasm."
"That is correct," she said.
"This unworthy cunt of a slave is unsure if it can stop itself, and
humbly is asking for assistance."
Mildred smiled and took me into her arms and hugged me. I broke down
and sobbed in frustration, in pain, in humiliation. Everything came
crashing down. I was useless, worthless, and helpless. I couldn't even
control my sexual urges, my animal instincts, they threatened to undo
me. I needed help, and only now admitted it to not only Mildred, but
to myself.
She shushed me, and we stood there for a very long time, until I was
all cried out.
"We will help you," she said and taking my hand she lead me downstairs
to a small closet. Rummaging through it, she came out with a metal
rounded contraption. I saw a tag hanging from it, like an old price
tag, and saw my name on it: Calista.
Slave Mildred led me to the main room, there were still a few house
slaves around, and when they saw us and what Mildred held in her hand,
they perked up and started watching.
Mildred had me strip to the nude in the middle of the room, in front
of everyone. She then put the contraption onto me, one leg at a time,
I stepped into it, and she raised it up to my crotch. Making some
adjustments, she finally positioned it completely over my sex. With an
ominous click, she shut the contraption of steel that wrapped around
my hips and through my legs. Now a metal shield covered my pussy, a
small hole allowed for exiting of my ass. A chastity belt had been
locked onto me! It fit snugly, obviously they had taken my
measurements as the belt was labeled with my name, and had sat in wait
for the appropriate time to be fitted onto me. Now trapped within it,
I examined it, felt around it and the seams. I tested it, trying to
pry a finger up and under it to no effect. I looked at Mildred with
wide eyes. Behind her the others watched in interest and amusement.
How many of them had been subjected to this?
"This, my dear," Mildred said. "will help you with your problem."
I whimpered in frustration and humiliation.
"It is no longer a question of willpower, now you have no choice in
the matter."
I nodded. She looked at me coldly, no hint of the den mother within
her.
I stiffened and corrected myself. Nods were not acceptable and that
was one habit that I truly had a hard time breaking.
"Thank you Slave Mildred, for helping this unworthy cunt of a slave
control itself!"
She smiled, turned around and went back to her room, leaving me naked,
in the center of the room, with nothing but a metal chastity belt and
locked up privates.

I had asked Jacinta what "flagged" meant. All she told me was that it
meant that she was not to be spoiled. No orgasm. No penetration was
allowed in her. She didn't seem to know if that was a good thing or a
bad thing, and suggested to me that I should concentrate on my chores
and servitude more that speculating on what my future might be. As a
slave, we had no future, no past, only the present. Things change
radically as I had witnessed like the harem slave that had been
demoted. One day she was one of the top slaves, cherished by Master,
used and loaned out by him. The next she was lower than a house slave,
abused by Slave Shirley. Shirley too had once been in power, only to
be taken, a petrified look on her face as she was dragged away in
shackles, the huntress had become the hunted in moments.

It must have been about six months that had passed when mistress
Stella was purchased by a business partner of Master's. She was
quickly shackled, a large red ballgag was buckled into her mouth and a
large dildo was shoved up her pussy, when her new owner took her away
from the house. He had also taken two other house slaves, to where, we
never knew. Always the rest of us were glad that we were not chosen,
and were allowed to stay here in Duquette Estate. Few stories came
back to us about a slave leaving this place and going to a better
existence. Although we had all witnessed what evil Master could do by
witnessing the failure in the cabin, the clients that would visit the
estate all seemed more singularly perverted than he did. Stories of a
slave kept in a dark closet, only to be freed briefly for abuse and
fucking, then locked back into the closet, were all too common. Most
of us realized that those slaves probably never lived out the year
where it was that they were taken, as we saw quite a few of the
clients returning every so often, to "replenish" their stock.

I wasn't sure how I felt about mistress Stella being taken. Now a big
void had entered my life as I realized that the attention and care she
had focused on me now was gone. The paddle that I now craved would not
be there for me to look forward to each night. On the other hand, as
soon as she left, I regained my name, as Slave Mildred made a point to
immediately address me as Slave Calista after mistress Stella had
left. Difficult as it was, I realized I was no longer the rookie in
the house slave building. Staying power had a way of promoting a slave
into a more alpha position. A power vacuum had once again been
created, and I was now secure in the knowledge that whoever filled
that, I would not be bumped back down to the lowest status again.

There was a certain cattiness that the other slaves exhibited while no
true alpha slave emerged amongst them. The closest that tried to
assume the position was an Asian dragon lady. She truly tried to
assume the dominant position, the trouble was she was small and
physically she could not back up her threats with some of the others
who took exception to her. She had a mouth on her that would make a
sailor blush, but she turned out to be all bark and no bite.

I followed Mildred's lead of motherly love and stayed out of the power
struggle. Somehow Mildred had survived longer than anyone else, and
although she wasn't the alpha slave, everyone looked to her for true
guidance and advice.


THE HOUSE SLAVE COUNCIL

I was summoned shortly afterwards by Mildred to sit at the house slave
council. Whether Master had formally created it, or the house slaves
had at one point to police themselves, I do not know, however, when I
entered the room, I was motioned to sit at the table along with
Mildred, another house slave, and Jacinta. It seemed that we now had
seniority. Once seated, Mildred informed us that we were now members
of the house slave council and that Master had tasked us to select
replacements for all the house slaves that had left. My role had been
expanded, I had been given more responsibility. I was thrilled with
what I perceived as a promotion and I resolved myself to put all that
I could into fulfilling my duty of finding appropriate house slave
candidates.

As house slaves, we came in contact with everyone on the estate in
some way or form. From serving Master's food, to his guests, to
attending to stable hands and workmen, to kennel slaves. I had not had
much contact with the kennel slaves, as being directly under the
control of mistress Stella during her time here, I was kept on a very
real short leash! That now changed as Mildred remarked to me that one
of the determining factors of my promotion from kennel slave to house
slave, was how well I had trained my replacement, correcting her when
she had gotten out of line. I blushed at that, and was surprised that
Mildred or anyone for that matter knew about the incident with the
little Arab slave girl, whom I had punished for asking me about my
past.
"There is no secrecy here. Nothing you or I can do will not go
unnoticed by someone. Master was VERY thorough in building this
estate. If you do something you are not supposed to do, it will be
found out."
I shivered, knowing what punishment felt like, and a small part of me
was glad that I had asked for the chastity belt that now was locked
securely around my waist, securing my sex from my weakened self
control.
I was also glad that I had behaved properly when I was a trainer, and
that my behavior was noticed. It reinforced the rules that had been
drilled into my head from the beginning. It was comforting to have
this predictable backdrop for an otherwise unpredictable existence. A
method to the madness, so to speak.
Now I was to follow the progress of the "untagged" kennel slaves.
Untagged meant that they were slaves that were not spoken for. No
plans had been arranged for them. The kennels had two types of slaves,
"Tagged" slaves, were brought in for a short time, either for
training, processing, or just holding. The estate was large enough to
be able to handle a decent amount of slaves internally, which I
assumed made it a good hub for processing them without drawing
attention. These were typically female, although there were plenty of
male slaves, who were meant for some other destination and owner.
Instructions for them varied. Some owners actually took part in the
training indoctrination and at various training stages. Their owners
would determine when to take them away from the estate to their new
home, while others were locked away in their cage with no contact
other than food and water given to them. Others would come back from
time to time for "retraining" or rehabilitation.

The "untagged" slaves had no one interested in them or spoken for.
They ranged from runaways and abductees, to poor foreigners that their
families had sold into slavery. These slaves, I was one of them, had
no one interested in them, and so were available for clients to use,
hire, and purchase. Master had a large estate and a large household,
so he always made sure that he had stock to select from, for positions
within the estate. The most menial tasks were handled by the kennel
slaves. All were left naked with nothing but a leather crossed body
harness of strips, and a collar. They scurried around the estate
outside on the grounds, doing menial physical work under the watchful
gaze of the estate. When not sleeping, or working, they were trained
in a variety of ways to learn the ways of Master's slavery protocol
and training. The methods were harsh and mistakes were not easily
forgiven.
On occasion, clients would arrive at the estate and Master would take
them around to the kennels. It was a grotesque enactment of a person
going to the animal shelter, shopping for a new pet. They would pick
and choose from them, taking each out of their cages, and then would
"get acquainted" with them. Most would take their time brutally
getting to know one slave, putting it through its paces, running them,
trashing them, and fucking them for hours, only to shake their heads
and repeat the process with the next kennel slave in the following
cage. Some clients really did enjoy "window shopping" more than
actually purchasing, only to have reached their limit for the visit
and go home without making a purchase. These were the slaves the house
slave council were to choose from to replenish our ranks.

Slave Mildred, always organized, had made a list of candidates to
follow and watch. We committed the list to memory and started to watch
them. I had noticed that the Arab girl I had trained as my replacement
was on the list, she still had my old duty as greeter, and I went and
visited her. Putting her through her paces, I quizzed her on the rules
of the estate, her training, and body positions. I tested her.
Satisfied with our first meeting, I left her with a warning that I was
watching her. Properly demure as was fitting for a kennel slave while
in the presence of a house slave, she thanked me for my interest and
had assured me that she would continue to be the best kennel slave
that she could be.

The other kennel slaves on the list performed equally well, although
they were not as memorable as the Arab girl, since I had not been in
contact with them before. I kept an eye on a few of them, those that
stood out to me. During my time as a house slave, I noticed that the
slaves that didn't get along with the others usually created more
drama and tension for all of us. That was likely to get us noticed by
Master in a bad way. Mildred had alluded to this fact. Unlike myself,
the other house slaves were often used by Master's guests, as well as
the other house slaves. Curiously, during my time at the estate, I had
not seen Master take any of the house slaves for himself. Because I
was "flagged", sexual contact with me had been reduced to nothing
since Stella had been taken away. The chastity belt also had a
profound effect on me and the others. It prevented me from
satisfaction, frustrating me as I spent many nights in tears
scratching at the metal shield that blocked my delicate touch on my
neglected pussy and clit. The other house slaves saw the belt as a
punishment technique, one that they were not to keen to experience
themselves after the many questions they asked of me during my
imprisonment.

Over the course of the week, I stumbled across the council members
putting the listed kennel slaves through various tasks, poses and
tortures. Sometimes I would join in, other times my duties required me
to pass on the invitation. By the end of the week, the house slave
council met again with our selections in tow. Each kennel slave was to
stand at attention, head back, chest thrust out, arms glued to their
sides, and legs spread open in front of them, just like I had when I
first came before the council.

Each of us had selected candidates and as that kennel slave was
presented, our arguments were heard by the rest of the council. I had
chosen the Arab girl who had taken over my kennel slave duties as
greeter. After deliberation, she and the other candidates were
welcomed into the fold as house slaves. I had the pleasure of naming
the Arab girl, and she proudly accepted her new name: Jasmine.

Just as Jacinta had for me, it became my duty to train Slave Jasmine
to become a house slave. Her failures would also be mine, so I
impressed upon her that she should take her training seriously.
Perhaps it was the frustration from my own loins, perhaps I just
wanted to make a point that she would remember, but when we met that
first morning for training, I remembered the tasks that Stella had set
upon me, and applied them brutally to Jasmine. The night before, I had
shown her how to get dressed in her uniform. I had gone over the rules
of keeping up appearances, or taking orders, and I commanded her to
report to my room bright and early the next morning for her training.

When she knocked at the door, I opened it, grabbed her by the hair and
dragged her into the room. She whimpered as I threw her to the floor
in the middle of the room. She sat there, on her knees confused and a
little shocked. Time for her to realize how serious I was.
"Bitch!" I started. "Every morning your first task of the day, after
you have gotten dressed of course," I looked gravely into her eyes,
towering above her in the nude. "will be to present yourself to me,
your new mistress and trainer."
I continued. "You will be on your knees outside my door, knock and
wait for me to open it. At that point you will beg your mistress to
dress her and to train your stupid ass to become a worthy house
slave."
I crotched down and was now level with her face. I slapped her hard
across the cheek. She winced and clutched her cheek. I slapped her
hand away, then slapped her again.
"Understand, Bitch?"
Her eyes had gone from confusion, to pain, to now fear. A small tear
bubbled from her left eye, the side of the face that had been slapped
by me. She slowly nodded.
SLAP! I hit her again. "Understand?"
She got the hint.
"Yes mistress!" She answered quickly.
"Good," I said, and then I dragged her to the door. "Let's try this
again, shall we?"
I opened the door and shoved her out into the hallway, and slammed the
door shut again.
That day, Jasmine learned to take her training, her new position and
me very seriously. The rest of the training went by quickly with only
minor corrections needed.

MASTER'S FIRST WIFE

One day about three weeks later, Master's first wife, Lady Martha
arrived. Word spread quickly around the estate. She was a woman not to
be trifled with. Jasmine and I were cleaning the foyer as she was
shown into the main house. Striding confidently in, she was an older
woman, a bit heavy, yet still very pretty. She had the same complexion
as Master and reminded me more of a sister to Master than a wife and
lover. Snapping her fingers, she hissed at us to drop our cleaning
brushes and to take her luggage up to her room. Master had set aside a
few rooms specifically for regulars. Sir Jon had one as well. These
rooms were off limits to other guests as they contained personal items
that were left there for return visits. This allowed them to not have
to pack all of the various sundries that they would need for the
extended amounts of time they stayed here on the estate. This was the
first time that she had visited since I was here.

Even though she already had a fully furnished suite, Lady Martha had
packed more items than any other visitor had. Jasmine and I struggled
with all of her suitcases as we had to make three trips before setting
about the task of unpacking and putting everything away in the
multiple dressers and wardrobes within the room. Just like Master and
his eldest friend Sir Jon, Lady Martha had the same background of
middle class. Not born to royalty, she more than made up for her
background now as she enjoyed all the luxuries of her status. She
enjoyed giving instructions, pointing out where everything was to be
laid out and put away, sending one of us off to retrieve fresh
laundered towels, a case of bottled water and other items. She seemed
to have no problem ordering us around.

Jasmine had a little trouble getting one of the drawers open and Lady
Martha gave her a sharp slap in the head. "Hurry up about it!" she
menaced as Jasmine let out whelp and moved quickly to open the drawer
and put Lady Martha's clothes away. Once done, Lady Martha pointed the
door out to us, waving us to go as she spoke animatedly into her
phone. We scurried out and resumed our task of cleaning the foyer.

That evening as we stood at attention serving dinner in the dinning
room, Lady Martha had a heated conversation with Master. Somehow she
had "gone through" another batch of slaves and simply needed to
replenish her stock. Master calmly denied her request, which
infuriated Lady Martha to no end. "I can't live without them!" she
screamed. "I have a certain lifestyle to maintain!"
Master swilled his glass of wine. "I suspect you've probably sold them
all off for the money, my dear. Didn't our settlement keep you
comfortable enough?"
She scoffed. "Exile, is more like it. That house you gave me is too
small, and out in the middle of no where. I have no social life to
speak of, and certainly not one of those slaves you gave me was
suitable or presentable to be seen with me around town."
Lady Martha snapped her fingers and beckoned me to come to her. I did.
"What about this one?" she grabbed my collar and yanked me off balance
so that I was bent over, my face just below hers.
"This one just might be able to be seen with me in front of company."
She grabbed my face in her hand, twisted it left and right as she
examined me closely. "Oh you are a lovely one, aren't you?"
I gasped, "Yes, my Lady."
Master seemed to stiffen, just barely. "She's not for you, my dear."
He said. There was a hint of warning in his voice, although Lady
Martha seemed to ignore it.
"I think she would make an excellent handmaiden for me..." she
continued. "Her skin is a little too tender though, really dear, you
simply must not go easy on these creatures!"
Master smiled. "Well, there was a time when I did go a little too easy
on you, my dear!"
Lady Martha hesitated only for a second, then regained herself.
"All in the past," she replied. "You're tastes became a little too
extreme for my comfort." She released me, and I quickly struggled back
up and into my position.
"I will however," Master said. "Assign her and the other to you during
your stay."
No! He didn't just say that! I screamed inwardly to myself.
Lady Martha licked her lips.
"I will point out to you, my dear, that she has been flagged."
She frowned at hearing that.
"You still remember what that means, right?"
She nodded, glanced at both of us, and then added. "Just the blonde
one, correct? The other has no such restrictions?"
Master nodded and turned his attention to one of the other guests.
Lady Martha smiled. It sent a shiver down my spine, and a quick glance
over at Jasmine told me that she was in more fear than I was.

THE FIRST TRIP

After Lady Martha's stay, she somehow managed to convince Master to
part with Jasmine. There were a few moments of tearful farewells
before Jasmine was led off to accompany Lady Martha back to her
estate. I wondered if I would ever get to see Jasmine again, but I
quickly put that out of my mind and focused on the fact that I was
still here. Slave Mildred announced a week later as we hurriedly went
about getting ready for our tasks, that Master would be taking a
"business trip". I had found out from Jacinta later on that Master
would plan trips on occasion to replenish his stock as well as deliver
fully trained product to his customers. During these trips, Master
would tend to select a group of slaves to accompany him for his
personal care, although another group of slaves would be mixed in as
well, and those, would be sold and delivered to his customers. None of
the slaves would know if they would be the ones sold, or kept and
brought back to the estate.

Preparations were made, and instructions handed out to us, as Jacinta
and I helped pack, and organize various boxes and trunks for the trip.
It was only at the last minute that both Jacinta and I were instructed
to pack our uniforms and accompany Master on his trip. We were to be
his servants during the trip, waiting on his every need while away. We
boarded the large plane, fully uniformed and were instructed to take
up positions in the galley (kitchen). The plane was far larger than
Master's jet; this was like a proper passenger airline only the
passenger compartment was separated with a locking door that walled
off the baggage section. In this case, Jacinta pointed out about
twenty slaves from the kennels all chained together like a chain gang
being loaded into that section from a separate set of stairs.
Master came on board, neatly dressed in an impeccable navy blue suit
along with his body guards and an equally bespoke Arab gentleman.
Following Master on his arm was the lovely Lucinda, the former house
slave that had been promoted to the exalted status of harem slave. She
was dressed in a very expensive stylish cashmere dress. Dark red that
went well with her dark complexion. The dress reeked of money, but the
lines were cut deeper than a rich woman would feel comfortable with.
Lucinda came across as high priced whore, more than a rich classy
woman. She was neither, but she did have the style and grace to fit in
with Master and his Arab guest. We got underway and were soon in the
air. One of the bodyguards, big and burly came back to us and handed
us a sheet of instructions. It was a lunch menu we were to prepare for
Master and his guest. We went about fixing the food and then loaded it
on the cart and rolled it up to them. Master took the lunch and
without a further look dismissed us. Lucinda gave me a quick smile
when our eyes met and then she turned her full attention towards
Master. After we had passed earshot, he again began speaking
animatedly with the Arab guest. Lucinda looked like she was amusing
herself and not paying attention to the conversation, but something
told me that she was paying very close attention to what was being
said between the two without giving any hint to either of them.

We repeated this again for dinner and by early morning we felt the
plane descend. Looking out of the window, we saw that we were coming
towards a desert island. On the island we could see an old castle
fortress, its walls surrounding a small lush oasis with palm trees and
water. One of the bodyguards came back to us, sat down and started
what seemed like a well practiced speech.
"Ok listen up cunts," he said.
"This customer is a very important client for your Master. You both
have been chosen for this trip because of how well you have embraced
your roles. Consider this a reward, as your Master has been pleased
with the both of you."
"However," he added with a sneer of the sinister, "Do not take this
charity as an act of weakness. You are still very much under the
control of your Master. He is your god, your lord, your Master. Any
deviation from his command will be met with swift and harsh
corrections."
Both of us nodded.
"I'm sure you saw on our approach that this is an island. So there is
no hope of escaping, unless you want to swim the thirty five miles of
shark infested ocean to the mainland. This castle and this stronghold
may look old, but is a well maintained fortress that was built
originally to traffic slaves many centuries ago. The people here are
of the same mind as your Master, so don't get your hopes up that you
can persuade someone here to help you."
Again we nodded and stayed quiet.
"Do as your told, serve your Master, and all will be well. Don't and
you'll be in the same lot as the other slaves we've brought here."
I gulped; I hadn't realized my mouth was so dry.
"Y...yes...s...s...sir..." I said.
Jacinta said the same.

We were escorted off the plane by that same giant bodyguard after
Master and Lucinda had left with his other bodyguard and the Arab
gentleman. Gentleman. I had a little trouble thinking of him as a
gentleman now that my imagination was allowed to run wild with all the
possible traumas that the other kennel slaves would be put through. We
saw them, miserable, hungry, tired and scared as they were offloaded
from the baggage compartment of the plane. They were being force-
marched up to the castle, while we piled into the luggage car with all
of Master's baggage and drove the long dry road up the front gate of
the stone walled castle.

After we had unpacked Master's baggage, the both of us were chained to
a ring set into the wall near the large dark oak bed. Our chains,
attached to our collars gave us just enough slack to lay down on the
large pillow on the floor that, no doubt, had been used by other
slaves before us while their Master was away doing business. Everyone
had left us alone. Both the bodyguards and our hosts had not so much
as looked at us. There was no groping, no quick hidden squeezes, not
lingering eyes, or stolen kisses. Everything, from my perspective, was
very efficient, businesslike and orderly. We both were quiet. Kneeling
on the pillow, we instinctively knew to keep our mouths shut. We could
talk later, but I know I was more than eager to blend into the
background and not get noticed as I should think Jacinta would agree!
Just then a shriek emanated from somewhere deep within the building.
My mind imagined some medieval dungeon where unspeakable horrors were
being inflicted upon the slaves. More shrieks and screams answered the
first. Jacinta turned pale. I'm sure I did as well. We knelt there for
who knows how long, listening to the screams. My stomach grew sick. I
could feel my heart beating in my throat. We had nothing to do except
listen and wait for our Master to return to the room.

When Master did come back, he said nothing to us. Lucinda slinked in,
oozing with sexuality and he took her into his bed and ravaged her.
First having her suck him off, then he finished inside her as he
quickly mounted her. The lights were turned off and Lucinda was left
in his bed while he quickly fell asleep. I found the pillow to be
adequate; after all, a slave takes whatever Master wants!

Morning.
It must have been dawn as I was awakened by Lucinda who unlocked the
chain from my collar freeing me. From some unheard instruction while I
was sleeping, Lucinda quickly relayed to us that we were to clean
ourselves then ready a bath for Master's bathing. Afterwards we were
to dress and accompany Master for the day. All of our attention was
focused on Master while bathing and helping him dress for the day. It
would not have been very smart to upset or displease him while we were
interred in this castle of horrors. Lucinda disappeared at this point
as we were led out of the suite by Master.

We traveled three flights of stairs where we ended up following
Master, by our leashes into the grand dining room. The room was
massive. Dominated by a large table that easily sat thirty people it
was stationed in the middle of the room. Seated at the table were a
large number of individuals of all races and nationalities. There were
even a few women! None of them looked like victims.

Along one wall was a line of personal slaves, attendants just like us,
all locked to iron rings on the wall. There were dog food type bowls
in front of them and a jug of water. Were we taken from Master by
attendants, who were young looking men (I later found out they were
eunuchs, castrated male slaves) and were locked to the wall as well.
As we were allowed to eat from our bowls, Master ate amongst the
others at the table. Their food being rather more tasty than the gruel
we had to eat.

After breakfast we returned to Master's side and were escorted to an
outside courtyard where a boxing ring was set up in the fast rising
sun. Chairs were arranged around the ring under shaded canopies as
again we were taken away from Master into a dressing area where we
were instructed to strip and change into brightly colored bikinis. A
eunuch came around and whitewashed a number on each of us, mine being
number eleven, Jacinta's was thirteen. We were then lead back out into
a fenced in waiting area. It was more of a stall than waiting area.
The type you see in a rodeo where the bulls were kept. Two slaves were
taken at random and pulled through the gate and pushed into the ring.
A referee of some sorts quickly spoke what sounded like instructions
to the two disoriented slaves, who quickly nodded their understanding
before a bell was rung signifying the start of whatever it was they
were now going to do.

The two circled as the guests started screaming and hollering.
Suddenly one of the girls, they both were Arab, lunged towards the
other and tackled her to the ground. A commotion between the two of
them proceeded as they grappled each other, swinging wildly off target
slaps and kicks until the bell rang. They both were shown a corner and
waited as they gasped for breath. The smaller of the two girls had the
forming of a large bruise on her thigh. Her hair was disheveled and
she seemed the worse off between the two. The referee spoke to her as
she panted, shaking her head furiously, refusing whatever he was
saying. He wasted no time in slapping her squarely across the face,
and as she staggered from the blow he pulled out a small cattle prod
and shocked her in the ass, immediately dropping her to the floor. She
became hysterical now and madly crawled away from him and the prod.
The bell rang and she raced out into the center of the ring, eager to
escape the referee.
The two slaves engaged again in a full embrace as the small bruised
one swung wildly and flailed about trying to inflict some damage on
the other girl. Grunts turned into yells as they struggled and fell to
the floor. If either of the girls took a breather during the match,
the referee jolted her with the cattle prod. After the third round,
the match was decided in the larger slave's favor. Money was exchanged
between the guests. Master seemed to not be too interested in the
match as he sat in the back with our host in a deep discussion. The
two girls were separated and the looser was escorted off to a
different area from the winner.
The winner received a fresh drink of water as she knelt and tried to
calm her breathing. The loser was bent over a rail, her wrists tied
together with strips of leather to her ankles she was doubled over and
very vulnerable. Her skin shone from the sun glistening off her sweaty
body. One of the eunuchs then proceeded to whip her, presumably
because she had lost. Everyone in the paddock with me understood the
consequences of loosing now.

Two more were pulled unceremoniously out and led to the ring. This
time the match was quite ferocious as one girl started bleeding from
her nose early into the match. When it was all over, as the bleeding
loser was taken to replace the previous loser to be whipped, the
referee took a pale of water and splashed in over the ring to remove
the blood.

Jacinta was next. Matched up with a tall black woman, she tried
valiantly to put up a fight. Near the end of the third round, the
black woman had Jacinta in a scissor lock between her thighs and
started to rub her pussy onto Jacinta's helpless face. The referee
noticed immediately as the guests shouted and pointed. He tugged the
black woman away from Jacinta and declared Jacinta the winner. The
black woman was then led to the whipping post and was given a thorough
thrashing. Some of the guests were giving a dark skinned man in a
bright blue suit a hard time over the incident. I assumed that he was
the black woman's owner.

I turned out to be the last match of the day. Matched up with a girl
about my size, we grappled and swung and tried to pin each other.
Neither of us knew what we were doing, however we made up for our
inexperience with enthusiasm as we both didn't want to be whipped. By
the end of the match I was covered in sweat and had several bruises. I
was rather pleased to be chosen the winner, though judging from the
more subdued level of cheering during our match, I'm sure we didn't
give much entertainment to the audience.

After a quick rinse off in a tiled dank room, we all were marched back
out to the plaza and reunited with our Masters. Some Master's rewarded
their slaves accounting of themselves in the ring by allowing them to
drop to their knees and suck their cocks. A few roughly chastised
their slaves for loosing. Master had each of us kneel silently on
either side of his chair as he continued to speak in hushed tones with
our host, a bit removed from the others. I had learned my lesson long
ago to not listen to anything Master and our host spoke of, rather I
tried to remain still and aware of him.

The rest of the day found us beside and slightly behind our Master's
side. On a few occasions one of the other men would look us over with
a look of hunger and anticipation. At one point one of the other
owners got into a heated discussion with our host and my Master. From
the looks and gestures it seemed that he was interested in us, with my
Master refusing him and the host trying to placate the angry
frustrated owner.

That evening, Jacinta and I attended to our Master's needs as he
relaxed in his suite with Lucinda. Feeding him, undressing him, and
waiting on him. Master seemed tired, stressed. I endeavored to be as
observant to his needs as I could. He startled me at one point in the
evening after I had served him some grapes, setting the tray on the
small coffee table in front of the sofa, by turning to me and asking a
little about me. Flustered and embarrassed, I recited my position in
my practiced manner and hoped that I would not say anything out of
order that would cause him to be displeased. Lucinda watched me
intently.

Smiling, he bade me to sit next to him. I did so, displacing Lucinda,
who now took the time to position herself behind Master's back and
started giving him a sexy shoulder massage. Master started to ask me
questions. What I thought of the wrestling event, about the castle,
about the other slaves. He asked me to speak freely. I swallowed,
hesitated and then answered his questions as honestly as I could. He
pulled me closer to him while I spoke. He started brushing my hair
softly. He stroked my shoulders, as I faltered, confused by the
thoughts and feelings I was having. At some point I stopped speaking,
as he then started kissing me. Softly. Warmly. I melted into him as my
mind swirled and my head became light headed.

When I was able to think straight again, I saw that the look on
Lucinda's face seemed to be more of jealousy than interest. There was
a dangerous side of Lucinda that showed through her perfectly featured
face and immaculate makeup. It was a side I was now aware of. I hoped
that I would never give Lucinda the chance to show me what that
dangerous side of hers could do!

End Ch. 03

We stayed one more day before leaving. The plane ride back was quiet
and empty. Other than Lucinda, Jacinta and myself, no other slaves
came back with us. Lucinda was hard to read. After the flash of
jealousy from the other night, she had been distant with me and
ignored me. She spent her time trying to get Master to focus on her
and her "skills and talents rather than either Jacinta or myself.
Fucking him silly all night long, she was up for anything and had a
predatory way of having sex. Master seemed quite fulfilled, that's for
sure!

Once home, wow calling the Estate home had shocked me as I now did
think of it as a home for myself, things went back to normal for
another week. Jacinta and I had teamed back up and were doing our
house slave duties when Sir Jon strode confidently into the manor
house. He met with Master for a short time and as I was cleaning the
marble foyer, Sir Jon exited the house with a rather smug looking
Lucinda. I was instructed to take Lucinda's luggage out to the car. It
seemed that Lucinda would be accompanying Sir Jon somewhere.
The luggage of Lucinda's was little more than a collection of
provocative clothing and lingerie. Clothes for her to operate with on
her back. When I loaded her bag into the car, we exchanged glances.
Her face had a smirk on it as she nodded to me. Then she turned her
attention to Sir Jon, like a true courtesan, he now became the center
of her world as she laughed at some benign comment he muttered under
his breath. She snuggled up to him and he wrapped his large arm around
her. Then the car pulled out and they were gone. I was getting used to
seeing everyone I knew leave me. I wondered when it would be my time
to leave home.

PROMOTION

The next day I was promoted with little fanfare to harem slave. Slave
Mildred informed me early in the morning, curtsying to me and
announcing my promotion and asking me to report to the manor house,
where I would now be staying. Jacinta gasped upon hearing the news and
we exchanged hugs and kisses as tears streamed down both our faces. I
would miss her. She was as close to a friend as a slave could have.
The term sister slave came to mind, when I thought of Jacinta. I hoped
that her path would be smooth and exciting and wonderful like mine had
taken!

I was escorted to a floor in the main house. It was a level that was
off limits to all others except the guests and Master. There was
simply a door at the landing of the stairs, nothing else. I knocked
and a sliding window opened to inspect me. "I was told to report
here." I mumbled. The window slid closed with a click, and the door
was unlocked and opened wide for me to enter.

I walked through the entry and was confronted with a very large light
filled room. Fine gossamer curtains flowed and undulated with the
light breeze that kept the room at a very comfortable temperature.
Rich pinks, purples, and light blue fabrics adorned settees and
couches and cushions that lay sprawled out amongst the large room. I
was taken aback as I seemed to have been transported to another time,
and another place. It was like what you would expect a roman orgy
would take place at. I was wondering where the grapes and horns of
wine were. The door closed solidly behind me as I finally began to
notice the lovely shaped woman who had admitted me entrance into this
divine area.

She beckoned to me to follow her.
I followed that shapely ass that was framed by the lightest pink slip
of cloth as she led me to a room off to the side of what she called
the "Great room". This small room had four bunks in it and Spartan
furnishings, much like a dorm room. She pointed to one of the bunks.

"This will be your bed Calista. You and three others share this room.
When not on duty, you are allowed to rest and recuperate here."

I nodded as she assisted me in stripping off my clothes and then
reaching into the chest closest to my bunk she pulled out what I later
found out to be a new type of uniform: the harem slave uniform.

I took the wispy pink fabric, a combination of "I dream of Genie" and
"high class hooker" and was assisted into it as Clara, whom she
introduced herself as, helped me with the details. Lastly was a pair
of pink heeled mules, of which after all my other outfits and training
I had absolutely no trouble with the five inch height of them.

Next Clara told me of my duties.
"Calista, as harem slave your duties are to our guests. You are to
entertain them and their every whim. If they were to ask you to strip,
you will do it without pause. If they asked you to feed them you will
feed them. You will be pleasant to them at all times, denying them
nothing."

I nodded and then paused to ask a question.

"I am aware that I have been flagged. How will this affect my serving
the guests?"
Clara smiled. 'This girl had some smarts', she thought to herself.

"That is a good question. None of the guests will expect to have sex
with you. I can see that you still unsure what being flagged means?"
I nodded, no one had ever told me what it meant. I had a good idea,
since it pertained to me not having orgasms, but I waited eagerly for
Clara to fill me in.

"A slave is flagged when Master wishes that slave to be unspoiled'.
This could be for many reasons. Price of the stock would go up for an
unspoiled trained slave, or simply Master or someone else has their
eyes on taking you for themselves and do not wish anyone else to have
pleasure from you and your body."

I nodded again. "Thank you Clara for explaining it to me. I had
wondered but knew that it was of no consequence to me."

Clara looked me up and down. "As slaves we are nothing but what our
owners wish us to be. You are correct in your assumptions Calista. Now
let us go and meet the other harem slaves."

She guided me gracefully out into the main room again. Gathered in one
corner was a small group of nymphs, I assume for the guests choice and
whims. Clara brought me over to the group and introduced me.

"Girls, this is our new sister, Calista."
The girls stopped their exchanges and each stood up and presented
themselves to me, curtseying as they introduced themselves.

There was a dark skinned African girl named Roxanne. She wore a rich
purple outfit like my own. Her green eyes shone brightly at me as she
smiled and stepped aside for the next introduction.

Quan-Yi was next in a rich red outfit. She was Asian, perhaps Chinese.
She was very petite. Her almond shaped eyes belied a submissive
sadness even when she smiled.

Barbie was a vapid bleach blonde bimbo. She giggled and it was clear
that her IQ matched her breast size post augmentation!

The next two girls were twins, from Russia at least they spoke with
something of a Russian accent. They were Paulina and Petra. They had
black hair, and a hint of Asian in their faces.

Gretchen was next. She was sweet and innocent, she looked much younger
than she turned out to be. There must have been some guests with a
taste for young meat as Gretchen had her hair up in pigtails and wore
a stripped down outfit that emphasized her smallness and freshness.

Lastly, Lucinda strode forward and welcomed me to the flock. In all we
were eight harem slaves, kept in our pretty cage at the whim of our
Master and his guests. The bars had been replaced with silken pillows
and divans. I noticed that the front doorway leading to the stairs
locked from both sides.

I shared my room with Gretchen and the Russian twins. The slave who
had slept in my bunk before me had been taken away the evening before.
That was what prompted my promotion to harem slave.

Clara, it seemed was not part of our little clan. She served in some
sort of administrative function, a combination den-mother and warden.

Gretchen took to task getting me assimilated into the life I was now
to lead. I soon discovered that there was a pecking order to this
group of harem slaves. Just like the house slaves, some had taken more
control over others. It didn't take me very long to discover that
Lucinda was at the top of that order. She had appointed herself First
Slave and all others had allowed her the status and privilege of that
standing. Everything that went on within that room would be overseen
by Lucinda. She had her eyes open all the time and with a royal grace
she lorded over the rest, making sure that her opinions were not only
heard, but followed.

"Lucinda recently told Roxanne that purple was more suitable to her
coloring than red." Gretchen whispered to me. "After that, Roxanne is
only allowed to wear purple."

She added with a sigh. "The worst part of it is that she looks so much
better in red. Lucinda just doesn't want anyone else to shine more
than her."

I nodded. Lucinda had always had an air about her. Every time I had
witnessed her presence, she always seemed above everyone else. Back on
that island fortress, Lucinda carried herself like she was Master's
equal.

In the evening I was prepared by my sister slaves. They washed me in
rich smelling oils and made me up and clipped and styled my hair. A
fresh French manicure, Master's preference, was applied and with a
sexy silken nightgown I was escorted for final approval to Lucinda.
She circled me with a discerning eye. She pointed little things out
which my sister slaves quickly adjusted. When satisfied she nodded and
the others moved off. Lucinda escorted me to an inner chamber. The
room was again soft and warm, inviting and cool. The center had a
large feather bed with a golden headboard and footboard.

Lucinda leaned in towards me as she picked an invisible thread off my
left shoulder.
"Tonight, our Master will take you. He had you flagged so that he
would be the one to take you and possess you. You have been denied
pleasure so that tonight you can explode and serve your Master with
pride. You will hold nothing back. You will deny him nothing. You will
enjoy him and release the pent up energy that you have long tried to
control. Loose yourself to your Master as he will now fully take the
last thing remaining from you. You will give him everything tonight
and will then be truly his."

I gasped and nodded. I was afraid of Master, but that kiss he gave me
not long ago also excited me. Already a tingle started to grow from
deep within me. I focused on it as I knew that tonight I would let
everything go. I will allow my Master to take me, ride me, play me
like an instrument, and I in turn would deny him nothing. I would give
him my body to once and for all become his property.

Before leaving, Lucinda leaned towards my ear and whispered, "Remember
cunt, I am First Slave! If you try to gain favor over me with Master I
will rip your heart out and shove it up your twat before it stops
beating!"

She pulled away quickly. Her face dead serious and she left. I
remembered to lift my chin up from the floor moments later as Master
entered the room from another door. That door too was locked.

MY HISTORY

From what little I can remember, my father was a kind and loving man.
My mother had died during childbirth and my father was left alone to
raise me. He struggled but we were happy until I turned six. Suddenly
a new woman was in our house. She was to become my stepmother. It
seemed like right after I had met her, she moved in with her two
daughters. They were younger than I was and were very spoiled. All of
my toys were taken by my stepmother and given to my two new
stepsisters to play with. They would then break them or wouldn't allow
me to take them back and play with them.

They were my toys and I cried and tried to complain. My stepmother
would just slap me on my cheek and lock me in my room. Father started
working longer hours and was never home while I was awake. My
stepmother made sure that when he was home, that he would not be
bothered by us children with our minor problems and brattiness. Father
would sleep or be busy when he was home and Stepmother made sure that
he never had time to sit with me alone and speak with me. Almost
always she was in the same room as my father and I so I never had a
chance to tell him who much I hated her and my stepsisters.

As I grew older, my chores began to grow as well. My stepsisters were
allowed to go to school, but I was told to stay home and help around
the house and assist Stepmother with the chores. In actuality, I never
assisted. I did everything as she was too busy relaxing to be bothered
with keeping the house clean. I would scrub the floors, do the dishes,
the laundry and clean the house. I soon took over the cooking as she
showed little interest in cooking. My days were spent working without
breaks, slaving away at a never ending list of tasks that Stepmother
would always make sure that I had finished before I was allowed to eat
and go to bed. I was so tired most of the time that I had no energy or
mental strength to complain.

It was near my sixteenth birthday when my world crumbled. Father had
died. I don't know what happened as Stepmother came in and told me
that he was dead and she gave me the rest of the day off to stay in my
room. I cried until my tears dried up as the last person on earth who
had loved me was no longer alive. What would I do now?

Life went on for another few months. If there was a funeral, no one
told me. I wondered what became of my father's body, but Stepmother
told me that it was none of my concern. He was my own dad? Why
wouldn't it be of concern to me? I continued to slave away in the
house while Stepmother started bringing in a slough of young men that
disappeared each night behind hers and my father's bedroom door.

My stepsisters tormented me as they threatened to tattle on me if I
didn't do one of their chores fast enough. Their threats were that
Stepmother would throw me out of the house to wither and die. The fear
of abandonment deepened in me as I tried my best to comply with those
evil girls' demands.

One evening, an older woman came home with Stepmother. Stepmother
called for me and I scurried forward. She told the woman my name and
the older woman scrutinized me. She checked my teeth, and pinched many
areas of my body. They dismissed me and went into another room to
talk.

Later, after I had finished my chores and was able to sit in my room
with the leftovers of dinner that I had cooked for everyone else, the
older woman came in and sat down on the bed with me. She told me her
name was Lady Martha and bid me to call her that.

I was a little confused but complied. She stroked my hair as she spoke
softly to me.
"It's been hard here hasn't it my child. Your daddy died and left you
all alone. Did he love you child? Did daddy love you?"

Tears started to form in my eyes as I leaned into her bosom. She held
me as I wailed in misery. She shushed me, Cooed in my ear and
continued stroking my hair. It had been so long since I had felt a
hug, human touch, human warmth from another person.

"He left you all alone in this scary world. This world that is so full
of danger. It would eat a young innocent child like you up and spit
you out." She said.

"You have no family. You have no place to live. Where will you go?
What will you do?" she asked.

Where would I go? I had never gone anywhere! What did she mean? Was
Stepmother kicking me out? What would I do? I clutched at Lady Martha
as panic set in.

"You have nothing. You have no education. You have no skills. You
aren't sexy. No one wants you, child. What is your future?"

I groaned. Was this it? Was there nothing else for me? Now even my
horrible pathetic life was being taken away from me, just like
everything else, and everyone else. Mother, Father, all gone. They
left me all alone. Why father, why?

Lady Martha began to rise. I tried to hold onto her. She loosened my
death grip from her. She looked down at me. My tear streaked red eyed
face. There was no reading what she thought. Was she leaving me? Why
was she telling me this? What did she want?

She seemed to read my mind as she continued. "Your stepmother has
offered me a deal. She says that you have some skill in
housecleaning." She glanced around and shrugged. "After seeing this
house, I'm not so sure. However, she has offered to sell you to me if
I deem you suitable. I have needs and am always looking for product
like you. I could take you away from here. Save you from life on the
streets when they grow tired of you and throw you out..." she offered.

I jumped at the chance to leave this place to be saved from them and
from myself. I nodded and pleaded for Lady Martha to take me away.

"Are you sure?" she asked with a sneer. "I can't promise you a better
existence. But I will have invested in you and for that you will
receive proper training so that you can bring me a profit. You will
become proud of what we make of you. You must choose now. Once you are
sure there is no going back."

I paused for a moment. I wasn't sure what she had in mind. What if
what she wanted was far worse than what I already had to deal with? I
hesitated. Then a thought went into my head. This was my only chance
to escape Stepmother and her evil stepdaughters. How much longer would
they entertain keeping me before tiring of me and throwing me out of
the only house I had ever known?

I knew this was the moment. I would never have another chance after
this. I knew that I would do anything to escape that house. There was
nothing for me there anymore. My father was all that had kept me
there. Now with him gone I needed to go. I wondered if the price paid
for me was a lot of money. Little did I realize at that time that the
true price would be paid by myself, in blood, sweat, and tears!

"I will go with you," I said.
Lady Martha grinned. She pointed to the floor in front of her. "Kneel
before me and say it, slave."
I gave her a look then complied. I knelt before her, looked up into
her eyes and repeated it. "I will go with you, Lady Martha."

A shiver ran down my spine after saying those words. My life had now
taken a new turn.


End ch. 04


MASTER

He was dressed casually, slacks and an expensive woven silk shirt. He
strode to me and smiled. It was a friendly smile. My legs buckled a
little as the butterflies in my stomach kept trying to fly up my
throat and out of my mouth.

"Welcome, Calista," he said touching my cheek with the back of his
hand. I smiled a little trying to ease my nerves. His hand lingered on
my face, touching me everywhere as he stood at arms length from me. A
hint of citrus cologne wafted from him as his scent mixed with my
oiled skin. He drew his hand down to my mouth and gently, yet with a
determination, inserted his finger into my mouth. I complied, parted
my lips and his finger slid smoothly inside my mouth. Unsure what to
do, I let him probe my mouth with his finger. Another finger joined
the first.
"Suck." He said gently.
I tightened my lips around his smooth fingers and sucked as he stared
deep into my eyes and slowly thrust his fingers back and forth in my
mouth.

His eyes never blinked. Cold and blue they showed his control and
command. It seemed at that moment that he ruled the entire universe.
He ruled me and my body quivered with that thought.

He drew his fingers from my mouth with a slurp and a string of saliva
dropping from my mouth and resting past my chin. I stood there
awaiting his pleasure. He stepped forward and took me into his arms.
He kissed me deeply. He held me up as my legs had gone numb and I
surely would have fallen to the ground without his strong arms to hold
me up in his embrace.

He stroked my hair. I was in a daze of confusion. I had never felt
like this before. I was a virgin, and at that moment I realized why I
was flagged, what the meaning was. All the months of frustration, the
training, the tortures, the denial, all were planned out for this very
moment as the only possession I still had left, the only thing that
had never been taken from me was now to become his, my Masters. And I
was now glad and proud of the sacrifice I had made and which had been
imposed upon me all my life. That I should have a treasure like this
to offer my Master, something even a wretched lowly slave like myself,
was a gift that was beyond my worth. Take me, oh take me, Master!

Grasping the hair at the back of my head, he pulled my head back
eliciting a gasp from me as he moved my face to point upward to him.
Moving down he again kissed me with a deep passion and a contained
fury that he seemed just barely able to control. My body was hot as my
mind couldn't think properly. Silly cunt, why should a slave think? I
knew what I was supposed to do, anything that my Master wanted of me.
I blocked my mind from thinking and enjoyed the moment and focused on
doing whatever he asked of me verbally or physically.

His strong hand moved across my body, resting finally on my breast, a
shiver echoed throughout my body as the feeling of his magic fingers
tickled my goose bump flesh through the silken dress. My nipples
throbbed with hardness as the blood flowed out of my brain, and into
sensitive parts throughout my body, parts that had been dormant for
too long, now freshly awakened and come to life, they screamed for
attention as my Master started to play me like a tightly strung
instrument. My mouth became the sound from my body as my moans and
shivers flowed out of a being that I could hardly recognize as me.

Eventually I became aware of him pushing me down to my knees. I rested
there looking up into those deep blue eyes. He undid his pants and his
cock sprang out in front of me. I knew instantly what he wished of me
and submitted by parting my ruby red lips and enveloped his hot flesh.
Slowly I worked a quick rhythm as I became aware of my Master's moans
and grunts of pleasure. I tried to keep my eyes on his, but the deep
stabs of his cock hit the back of my throat and soon were past it, my
gagging forced my eyes to water as I struggled to maintain the innards
of my stomach and gasp for air.

With a final thrust after his strokes had quickened, his salty seed
exploded out of him and I furiously tried to swallow it all.

When he was done spurting, he kept his still hard cock in my mouth,
bid me to clean it, which I lovingly did, licking his entire shaft and
balls. What would happen next? I wondered. My body was one giant
exposed nerve ending as my pussy felt absolutely drenched. My nipples
were painfully hard and I hesitated touching myself as I tried to pay
all my attention to my Master's cock.

Soon he pulled me up, kissed me deeply again and carried me to the
bed. Laying me down, he parted my legs and lightly touched my inner
thighs. He stroked all over me, except for the place I wanted him to
stroke. Each time he came close to my rosebud, he would maddeningly
change course and touch me elsewhere. I soon was groaning for some
relief. All of those months of excitement and denied pleasure returned
to me in frustration.

Finally he touched me, just a quick flick from his finger, but my body
arched as it accepted it and begged for me. He stared into my eyes. He
watched my reaction as he touched me again. My eyes lost their focus
as I concentrated on the pleasure shooting through my body. I muttered
sounds from my mouth, words from my pussy.

He had somehow taken off his clothes and was now climbing on top of
me. He held me as his hard cock thrust slowly into me. My tightness
resisting his rod, he hit something and came to a stop. A shock of
pain came from their. He proceeded, slowly pushing as the pain grew
and grew. A tearing sensation made me cry out. A whoosh of pain, fluid
and pleasure wracked me as my head lolled back and I lost
consciousness for a moment. I couldn't breath. The pain subsided,
leaving a small throbbing haze, a hint of the pain that had just
transpired, only to be overwhelmed by the hot metal rod of his cock
bottoming out within me. My body responded as his thrusting started to
quicken into a rhythm. Soon I was pushing back into him, my body
yearning to be taken deeper. His pace quickened as he looked deep into
my eyes. He kissed me and exploded into my no longer virgin pussy. As
his shooting subsided, his thrusting continued to push me to a point
where I fell over the edge of ecstasy. I was cumming. Hard. My world
exploded as I knew that I would never be the same. The drug of orgasm
from my Master's cock had immediately addicted me to it. Without it, I
knew I would never be satisfied or whole.

He held me there, him on top of me, his cock shrinking but still in
me, as we caught our breaths. He kissed me again and smiled.
"Was that good?" he asked.
I swallowed and nodded, unsure of my voice.
"I enjoyed taking you." He said then added. "You are now mine."
"Yes, Master." I finally was able to say.
He stroked my face as tears trickled down my checks, I was sad, happy,
alive! I felt everything at this moment and it was glorious. He
continued to hold me, not saying much, just enjoying my body and I
enjoyed him enjoying me.

We bathed together in a large bath. Two of the harem slaves came in to
attend to us and wash us. It was the Russian twins. I wasn't sure if
it was Petra or Paulina who washed me, but she did seem to spend a
much longer time cleaning and scrubbing my pussy than what I thought
was needed. She winked at me as I realized it. I blushed.

Freshly clean, the two harem slaves dismissed, I joined Master back in
the golden bed. We snuggled together as I became aware that Master
possessed an intimacy that I had never experienced before. At times I
thought of him as giving me the love I once had from my father. At
other times, he was playful like a cherished best friend, and then he
would touch or kiss me and that left me no doubt that he was my lover.
I fell in love with him that evening. He was my Master and I would
have done anything for him before because I had to, now I would do
anything he wished because I wanted to.

Soon he turned me over, continued to kiss me paying special attention
to the back of my neck and shoulders. I shivered as my body warmed up
yet again to his expert manipulations. His hands roamed all over me
and soon rested on my ass. He kneaded my ass checks and slowly worked
down to my anus. Taking some lube from the bed table, he greased up a
finger and slowly worked it around my little chocolate star working me
open slowly and lovingly. I tightened up back there as he spoke softly
to me, telling me to relax, to open up. He pressed on my anus and
worked a finger inside me. I could feel my heart beat around his
finger as my muscles clenched it trying to break his finger off. Soon
he was working it in and out of my ass. The sensations were more
intense and painful than my pussy. A second finger entered my cave and
I found by relaxing and trying to enjoy the feeling of fullness that
it was not as painful as when he first inserted one finger. At some
point, I don't remember when, I started to press against him as he
thrust into me.

Soon I was ready for more, and I quickly figured out where his massive
cock was headed. He got behind me and slowly placed his now hard cock
at the entrance where his fingers had just vacated. I grunted as he
bore down on me, slowly my body stretched to accommodate that thick
head of his shaft. A flush of feeling and pain rushed into me as the
head passed through my opening and my own muscles contracted pulling
him deeper into me like a hungry animal with a tasty meal. I came
again at that moment. The feelings were so intense. He settled me down
allowing me to ride out my feelings before he started to thrust in and
out of me. His sweat mingled with mine as he rode me with purpose. Our
scents mixed together, the bath forgotten as a new smell, not of
cleanliness, but of sex permeated the room.

He was big and I was in pain, but it felt so good as well. I was
stuffed full of my Master and he was taking his pleasure from me. I
came again as he thrust deep into me and deposited his seed into my
ass. He had taken all three holes this evening. I was no longer a
virgin for any one of my holes. I was truly his.

In the morning, Master told me I would accompany him to the dining
room to eat breakfast with his guests. I bathed and got dressed in my
harem slave outfit as Master passed on the plans to Clara who
disappeared through the locked door to give instructions to the house
slaves for breakfast. As Master escorted me out into the main room and
through the door leading to the stairs, all the other harem slaves
watched Master and I walk arm in arm past them. I glanced at Lucinda
and saw a look of jealous fury on her face. She quickly regained her
composure as to not alert the other slaves, but some of the others
noticed and there were looks of recognition as they glanced at each
other for confirmation. Something was brewing, I realized as this
scene of Master taking one of his harem slaves to breakfast was not a
common occurrence. I quickly tried to forget about Lucinda and focused
on enjoying Master's company as we left the other harem slaves to
stew, gossip and wonder in my absence.

End ch. 05

ACCOMPANYING MASTER

Master pointed to me to sit at his right as he took a seat at the head
of the long dining room table. There were guests already seated as we
entered the room. A quick glance around and I recognized Sir Jon
sitting on Master's left along with some other guests. I noticed that
Jacinta stood on duty beside the wall, ready to serve the quests
whatever their whims were. We locked eyes with one another for a
moment as I sat down. A small smile flashed on her face then she went
back to paying attention to the guests, pouring coffee for a
particularly ugly old man who sat next to Sir Jon.

I sat mutely while I ate, taking in the conversations of the others
with Master. No one asked me anything, in fact they mostly ignored me.
If they wanted any female attention they would just beckon one of the
house maids over and they play with them. The older ugly man turned
out to be Russian. He had a very thick accent and seemed to be getting
worked up about some sort of a schedule. Master and Sir Jon kept
assuring him that everything was on track and that the schedule would
hold.

"I certainly hope so for your sake," The Russian growled.
There was a pause as everyone turned to Master. Master's face was
blank, cold and unreadable. He stared directly at the Russian for what
seemed like a long time. Sir Jon tried to slowly back away from
between these two, afraid of being caught in some sort of wild wets
gunfight crossfire.
Master broke the uneasiness with a smile that diffused the tense
situation.
"Andre," he laughed. "There's no need for hollow threats. We've
assured you that the product will be on time."
Andre, the Russian, took a gulp of coffee and placed the cup back down
on its saucer. He rose from the table.
"We shall see. For now, I think I've seen enough of your operation
that I should go report back." He left the dining room. Master called
Jacinta over.
"Ready his luggage, he will be leaving this morning."
Jacinta, bowed and left for Andre's room with her orders.
After breakfast, Master and Sir Jon excused themselves from the other
guests and with me in tow as Master's eye candy we all adjourned to
the library. I was told to sit on one of the far chaise lounges and to
"Look pretty" as Master and Sir Jon spoke at the other end of the long
walnut paneled room. I proceeded to strike sexy lounging poses, trying
desperately to draw Master's attention and distract him form his
business at hand.

Master and Sir Jon were involved in a somewhat heated discussion. I
couldn't make out the words by knew that it had to do with the current
business with Andre. Sir Jon seemed reluctant and Master had to do a
lot of consoling to finally get Sir Jon to agree to whatever they had
decided. Finally they hugged each other in that manly-friend way and
Sir Jon left the library closing the door on his way out.

Master walked over to me. His face was dark with thought and concern.
I gazed up at him in yet another sexy pose as he hovered over me.

"You little cheeky slut!" he exclaimed grabbing my wrist and yanking
me up to my feat and into his arms.
"I know what you were doing with those sexy poses! Trying to distract
me when I was doing business!"
I squeaked with excitement and a bit of fear. I was such a bad girl!
"I'll have to punish you for that!" he said and dropped down onto the
chaise lounge and tossed me over his lap where he proceeded to give me
a smart little spanking! I squealed in delight as the spanking didn't
hurt but only helped excite me even more.

Soon his hand was running my red bum as the heat from the spanking ran
through my body. His fingers snaked under my ass and touched my now
wet pussy. I groaned as he started working my up to a fever frenzy.

Letting me go just before I came, I dropped to the floor on my knees
and pulled out his hard cock. I immediately started sucking it and it
grew even harder and larger. Soon he exploded into my mouth and I
savored my dessert after breakfast.

I was a little disappointed when he dressed and got up, leaving me
with no orgasm, but quickly I remembered my place and rose with him.
The rest of the day seemed to follow that rhythm as Master proceeded
with his daily business and was content to have me as his visual and
well as physical entertainment. He never let me cum again that day.

We ate together alone at dinner. Andre did indeed fly out that
morning, and so did Sir Jon later that day. All the other guests were
free to take advantage of the harem slaves in the manor, and they did.

"I don't think I have explained what it is that I want from you,"
Master said while we ate. The meal was pheasant with new world
potatoes and asparagus. Old slave Mildred was an excellent cook.
"No Master," I said.
He looked at me again, his eyes had a habit of changing intensity of
blue based on his emotions. There were times like this morning with
Andre when his eyes turned a cold sinister deadly blue, and other
times while fucking me when the blue of his eyes was warmer,
friendlier. His eyes took on that hue know.

"Harem slaves, are my slaves. They are the girls whom I have chosen to
share my bed and my guests bed. They are girls of good breeding and
quality. They have gained a certain latitude in trust and freedom. But
you all are still my slaves."

I nodded silently to tell him I understood.

"Think of yourself and the others as companions. You are here to be
seen, felt and tasted. You are here to make the men or women feel
good. No perversion they want will be greeted with anything other than
enthusiasm. My guests are here for a very special reason. Because of
this they are allowed use of my choosing of harem slaves. Some I
choose to lend out, others I do not."

"Right now, you are one that I choose to keep to myself. If I grow
tired of you or any other the slaves, I sell you or give you away." He
took a swig of his brandy, and his eyes turned cold again.
"Make sure I do not grow tired of you." He said ominously.
I swallowed and nodded again.

"There are times, when I will keep a slave overnight. There will have
to be a certain amount of trust before that happens between us.
Sometimes they accompany me on trips. The freedom allowed them during
those times away from this compound can be very tempting. Do not be
tempted. You belong to me, and if you fail me by doing something
stupid, you will regret it for the remainder of your painful, long
life."

The image of Master's first wife, in the shed still enduring tortures
and pain over all these years brought the impact of Master's words
home.
"I will not fail you Master." I said.
He smiled.

After dinner I was dismissed and told to return to the Harem slave
quarters. Clara unlocked the door and let me in. The main room was
empty and I soon discovered that save for Roxanne, all the other harem
slaves where entertaining our guests for the evening.

"Well, well, well!" Roxanne said as I greeted her. "Looks like Master
has a new favorite!"
I didn't understand at first, but soon realized that she was referring
to the breakfast invite.
"You'd best steer clear of Lucinda, she was in a mood after seeing you
two leave this morning!"
I nodded and excused myself to go to bed and get some sleep.

BECOMING A HAREM SLAVE

Over the next few weeks' things settled down into a rhythm. I spent a
lot of time with Clara, who instructed me on the finer points of being
a consort. Etiquette, manners, deportment and sexual training were
drilled into me by Clara. I soaked everything in until my brain was
full. She was very strict; carrying a riding crop she seemed to relish
every mistake I made, correcting me with a few well placed swats with
it.

The evenings were spent with Master as the other harem slaves told me
that he seemed to have taken a shine to me. Master took me dining, and
I also was attached to his arm whenever he entertained his revolving
door of guests. On more than one occasion, the guests tried to buy me
away from Master. He always politely refused, making me feel even more
special.

The evenings out were times that I was expected to put my training in
manners and deportment to good use. Usually, Clara would be somewhere
in the vicinity, watching me like a hawk, making sure that I carried
out her training to her perfection. My failure would also be her
failure, and we both knew that Master could be a very harsh man.

I realized quickly that Master and Clara were conferring with each
other on my lesson plan and that each evening was designed for me to
practice my lessons while fresh in my mind. That carried over into the
bedroom as well. Master would always be aware of whatever coaching
Clara had given me that day on sexual training and he made sure to put
that theory to practice. When Clara had me practice deep throating
dildos, Master would then spend the evening with me kneeling between
his legs taking his cock deep into my throat until my technique was
perfect. The same went for anal training, massage, hand jobs, and
kegels.

Two weeks later, the Doctor arrived back in the Manor. He came and
went often. His job was to give everyone checkups and tend to any
medical issues that were discovered. I had seen him outside the usual
checkup only one time before, and I still got chills from remembering
when I was a house slave cleaning the guests' rooms:

"The next room we entered, I was startled to find a man and a woman
still in bed. The older silver haired man (the Doctor) beckoned us to
come in and do our cleaning duties while he continued to pay attention
to his guest.

She was a dark skinned woman, stretched out on the bed, face down. The
covers and blankets had been pulled off the bed and lay in a heap at
the foot of the bed. I went over to take them, and crouching down to
gather them up, I discovered that the dark skinned girl on the bed,
was actually shackled to the four corner posts of the wrought iron bed
frame.

She was panting, moaning even. Her face inches from mine, as I caught
a glimpse into her eyes, her face lying on its side. The eyes were
dull, exhausted, in pain. I imagined for a moment that she had mouthed
the words "Help me", but just then, the old grey haired man, slammed
his hand down upon her, and her face scrunched up into a withered out
moan.
"There, there," he softly caressed her. Her eyes rolled back into her
skull, as the tender damaged skin was being manipulated by the man.

"We've taken all night playing, just to warm you up." He continued.
Then hit her again. A deep moan emanated from within her, yet it never
reached her mouth.
"We still have all weekend, for the main course!"

Oh my god! I thought. She had been like this all night, and it was
only the prelude to his handiwork. I quickly pulled the sheets and
covers up and took them to the pile near the door. Jacinta worked
quickly, straightening up as best she could, all while this man,
continued to strike the bound stretched out dark skinned girl on the
bed. Her moans had turned guttural, animal.

I concentrated on the other side of the room, and came across a
folding case. It was like a fishing tackle box, only this one was
spread wide open with large stainless steel medical type instruments.

"You can leave that as it is," the voice startled me, as I pulled my
hand away from it like from a hot fire. I turned around, saw him fully
for the first time, and nodded in obedience. He had a gentle face,
almost grandfatherly.

 He sat in stark contrast to the dark skinned woman stretched to the
limit in her bounds on the bed. His posture was of one with all the
time and patience of the world, contrasted by the prostrate dark
skinned girl, exhausted, and anxious to get the unpleasantness over
and done with.

He stared humming a tune as he picked up a new instrument of torture.
Adjusting it, he then proceeded to insert it into her rectum. The dark
skinned girl tensed and strained at her bonds. A small whimper exited
her pert mouth, along with a line of droll that added to the pool on
the sheet under her head. We quickly finished up and left for the next
room."

That was the Doctor.

This time he entered the Manor accompanied with his dark skinned
slave. The whispering started immediately as Gretchen quickly filled
me in.

"That's Rosa!" she said. "She was a harem slave before you. You
replaced her, because the Doctor wanted her in lieu of payment. Master
gave her to that sick bastard!"

This was indeed the very same girl I came across in that room long
ago. Tied up and surgically tortured by the silver haired Doctor. Rosa
looked to be a mix of African and Latin. She was all bundled up in a
white silk sari. Only her head was visible. She seemed to walk with an
extreme amount of pain, wincing every limping step she took. The
Doctor was shown into one of the small rooms off the main room and
began putting out his "tools". Rosa was allowed to visit with the rest
of the Harem slaves and they huddled around her, hugging her and
crying. Rosa seemed to be a broken shell. Her eyes had a far away look
of terror in them, and each hug brought out small yips of pain from
her. The other girls sat her down and began examining her through the
sari. Her entire body was scarred from what seemed to be extensive
surgeries. Gasping in horror, the slaves begged her to tell them what
happened. Rosa told us her story while the Doctor would call each of
us in to the room to give us an examination.

ROSA'S STORY

"The doctor had always liked me," she told us.
"Every visit here, he would request me. Each time he had me, he would
inflict worse and worse pain on my body. It got to the point where I
begged Master to not allow the Doctor to request me. I was so afraid
of him. He would cut me, and stitch me up. He called it "practicing"
since his hands were shaky now, no real hospital would allow him to
practice medicine."

"What did Master say?" asked Petra.

Rosa sniffled. "He refused my request. He told me that the Doctor was
a very important client and guest and he was much needed. If the price
to keep him happy was one lowly harem slave, then he was willing to
pay that price."

"The Doctor at the end of each visit with me would wrap my wounds and
give me some pain medication. Just before leaving he would always
taunt me by saying he was going to up his price to Master. The payment
would be me. He always threatened that he would take me for his very
own at the end of each visit. He would terrify me with tales of his
home and his surgical room. The pain medications would knock me out,
but I would have nightmares which I could never wake up from."

The girls moved closer to her and hugged her. They gave her as much
love as they had to offer. It was clear that Rosa no longer
experienced intimacy and love.

"As you know, Master finally agreed to the Doctor's price and he had
the most evil smile on his face that day when he came to take me home.
He told me that I was now his and he fastened this steel collar around
my neck and attached a leash and dragged me away from here, onto the
plane and back to his home."

"His place is a house of horror. I am kept locked in a cell in the
basement next to his surgical room. He's done..." she drifted off at
this point. Tears flowed from her eyes as she tried to block out the
memories that she still was living.

"...horrible things to me. He's changed me...inside. He's gone inside me
and altered me, cut things out of me, changed my plumbing...he calls it
experimenting, testing his theories, all in the name of science..." her
face turned cold and her eyes lost focus as she stared at some far off
point.

The girls tried to get her to take off her sari to show them his
damage. But she refused. She wanted us to remember how she looked
before...

The Doctor finished his exams and headed off to other areas of the
estate to tend to the other slaves: the house slaves, the kennel
slaves and also "the Failure" slave. He took Rosa with him as she
followed behind him. She gave us one last look before she left. It was
a look of hopelessness. She was nothing now but a slave, chattel for
her owner to do as he pleased. It was a look that terrified all of us.
We were all glad that it was Rosa that the Doctor fancied and not one
of us.

LUCINDA

Over time, I noticed that Lucinda became more and more distant from
the rest of us. She was especially cold to me. I had become exclusive
to Master as he seemed to prefer me to any of the other harem slaves.
Lucinda seemed to take this as a threat as she hardly addressed me at
all. The others, seeing that Master had chosen me, started to defer to
me on matters. I found that I was allowed first servings of food and
other pleasures that were provided to us, before the other helped
themselves.

I was included in most discussions and disagreements as the other
slaves wanted my opinion on matters, whether it was clothing choice,
or sleeping arrangements. Even Clara was more of an equal now rather
than a mentor or den-mother.

Lucinda, meanwhile was off by herself. She always poised herself as
someone above the others. But when I looked into her eyes, I could see
she was deep in thought, trying to figure out an unsolvable puzzle.

About this time, I noticed that Sir Jon had been back from his last
dealings and he seemed to have taken an interest in Lucinda. She was
now invited to the same dinners and events by Sir Jon as his escort as
I was for Master. I observed the two of them in a lot of discussions
when we all had retired to the sitting room after dinner for drinks
and socializing. Often times the other harem slaves were invited down
and orgies would happen as the guests had their pick of the slave
girls except for Lucinda and me, as we were spoken for by Sir Jon and
Master.

The house slaves would have their work cut out for them cleaning up
the sticky stained leather furniture as guests would take the harem
slave girls, fucking them in all holes and spewing their seed all over
them. The slaves would gladly enjoy it as Master allowed the guests to
take whatever pleasure they wished from his slaves.

Petra and Paulina would always be paired up with each other seeing as
they were twins, and the guests would take both of them together,
making them do every sexual act they could come up with. One time a
short fat guest had the twins kneel before him and each beg to suck
his fat short cock which mirrored his body shape. When he would
finally relent for one of them, he had the other slave continue to beg
until he would switch them off. Each would gasp and drool over his
manhood, they were very good at what they did: pleasing their man!
Soon, he fired his cum all over their faces and then had them both
lick his cum off each others face. That satisfied him and he soon
passed out in his chair, leaving the twins grateful for the low
stamina of aging guests.

Gretchen always played the little school girl that would have to be
spanked by daddy. She played the part perfectly as she would prance
around with a spunky attitude and then would sulk and pout when daddy
became stern. Her tight white cotton panties would always be ripped
off her and her ass always seemed to be tender from all the attention
it received by the many angry daddies. Her pigtails had a way of
making her daddy prefer blowjobs from her rather than straight sex.
They just couldn't get enough of grabbing a hold of those pigtails and
face fuck her.

Most of the times the orgies were very predicable. Gretchen played her
school girl part, the twins were always together, Roxanne as being the
black girl was always fucked in the ass, Quan-Yi was tied up and
fucked and Barbie tended to become the blonde slut passed around and
sampled by everyone. Lucinda and myself were saved these roles as we
where attached to Sir Jon and Master. I spent most of my time sitting
with Master as co-host while he oversaw that nothing went wrong and
that his guests were having a good time. He would occasionally finger
me and stroke me, keeping my fires stoked and he would ravish me
afterwards when we retired to his bedroom. Sir Jon and Lucinda would
always excuse themselves and retire to his bedroom for the evening.
She would often spend the night with him.

CHANGE

Master had to go on a special trip. He was meeting a new client that
Sir Jon had met and arranged to do business with. Sir Jon had insisted
that the new client would only agree to do business if Master traveled
out and met with them personally. Master decided to take me with him.
 "Think of this as a reward for how well you have done as harem slave
and how proud I am of you." He said as he kissed me. My knees buckled
as his kisses always had that affect on me.

The plane flew for a few hours before touching down on a dirt runway
in the middle of a jungle. When we got out, we were greeted by a small
contingent of black men. They all seemed to be carrying machine guns.
Master, his two bodyguards and I were escorted into a Range Rover and
we then drove off to a compound several miles up in the mountains.

The compound was fenced in with razor wire, with a small band of armed
men who guarded the area. Once inside the gate was closed and we
exited the vehicle. Off to the side I could see kennels very much like
the ones Master owned only these were not as well built. Made of wood
and wire they were filled with black men and women who were morning
their fate with moans and sighs.

The bodyguards flanked us as Master and I walked towards the main
building. We were greeted by a large heavyset black man who was
wearing a general's uniform.

"Greetings!" he said as he offered his hand to Master. They shook and
we all entered the house. Once inside his office, the body guards
stayed off to the sides and I tried to sit away from the action as
Master and the General would surely be talking business.

The General ordered some tea be brought in and then began discussing
business terms with Master. They were talking money and figures as the
General was interested in moving his stock on a monthly basis. It
seemed that war in his country produced a limitless stock of product
that he was eager to sell to someone with the connections and pull
that Master had.

Quickly they began to disagree as Master quoted him one price and the
General balked at it.

"I was quoted 100." The General boomed.
Master remained calm. "I couldn't possibly do 100. 85 is a fair price
and is more than generous."
The General became agitated.
"I will not just give them away. You insult me with your offer. You're
associate assured me that the price would be 100!"
Master paused for a moment. He had a funny look on his face then
answered.
"My associate knows better than to offer a price I will not pay."
The General smiled as the group of servants brought in the tea to
serve them.
"Then perhaps your associate knows something you don't know!" he
menaced and nodded to his servants.

The servants produced machetes and quickly chopped at the throats of
the two bodyguards, catching them unaware. The choking as the
surprised bodyguards slumped to the floor bleeding out on it was the
last sounds uttered from them.

I screamed as the sight of the gushing blood and the sudden violence
overwhelmed my senses. One of the servants grabbed me and thrust the
blade to my throat. The other two servants grabbed a hold of Master.

"What the fuck is this?" Master yelled. He struggled but the servants
held firm.

The General stood up from his desk and strode around to Master.

"It seems your associate thinks he can do business better than you!"
he said.
"He set up this meeting to get rid of you. It seems he's tired of
being the lackey..."

Master struggled again but realized he could not break free.

"Sir Jon and I will be doing business for a long time, I think,
especially at the agreed upon price of 100, not 85!"

Master was silent.
"Don't worry," the General smiled. It was a toothy grin, like a shark.
"Sir Jon has plans for the two of you. Guards! Take them away!"
The guards who had been disguised as servants manhandled us away and
into a cell. They locked the door and left us alone.

I sobbed and held onto Master as this turn of events scared me. I had
no idea where we were, and now we were prisoners of some diabolical
slave dealer. Sir Jon had deceived Master and was taking over his
business, and Master faced a fate worse than death. I too had an
uncertain future as Master's consort.

Master shushed me and placed me on the single cot. He looked around to
make sure we were not being monitored then he took his shirt off. He
pulled at a bandage attached to his underarm.

"What are you..." I asked.
He shushed me and continued working at the scab of skin. I had noticed
the bandage before, but had never wondered what type of wound it was.

Master peeled away the flap of skin and revealed a small pocket
embedded into his body. He pulled out a small phone that had been
hidden there. He flipped it open and quickly punched in a number. He
waited a moment.

"Yeah, it's me." He whispered into the phone. "Code red! It was a set
up. I need an out. Do not trust Sir Jon. He is the enemy now." He
waited for a reply and then flipped the phone closed and placed it
back into his body.

"Help me get this sealed and the bandage back on." He asked me. I
worked with him on resealing the flap of skin. It was self sealing,
like Velcro, and once back in place, it looked like an old scar. He
had me reapply the bandage and then he put his shirt back on.

I looked at his for an explanation. He smiled. "This was a present
from the Doctor. He has a variety of unique applications that he has
worked to perfection from his various experiments. He implanted me
with this a few years ago in case of an emergency. No one but the
Doctor and now you knows."

I nodded. "What's going to happen to us?" I asked.

His face turned grim. "I always have a contingency plan to get me out
of sticky situations like this. I'm very good at my job and this is
one of the reasons why. Hopefully help will come soon and we can make
it out of here. After that...well, I will just have to deal with Sir
Jon."

The way he said that last bit made me feel sorry for Sir Jon. I'm sure
Master would have something evil in mind for Sir Jon and I was sickly
keen to discover what that would be.

An hour later, two men dragged Master out of the cell and took him
away. I was left alone in the cell for what seemed like the rest of
the day. When evening came, Master was brought back into the cell. His
clothes were ripped and blood covered most of his body. They dropped
him on the floor and after leaving, I helped him to the cot. They had
tortured him.

I tried to clean him up as best as possible. He was semi-conscious and
in a lot of pain. They had removed some of his teeth. His mouth was
bloody and he spit blood. His left hand had been broken and he
muttered to me about resetting the bones. He walked me through it in
gasps as I slowly pulled the bones back into place. He screamed each
time, passing out only to be revived by me for the next set of
instructions. I had tears in my eyes at the pain I was causing my
Master.

I wrapped his hand as best I could with a strip from my dress and
cuddled with him as he tried to sleep. I was afraid of what would
happen next. Master has said help was on the way, but so far nothing
had happened.

In the middle of the night the door to our cell opened quietly. A man
slunk in and nudged us awake. "Stay quiet!" he whispered. "I am a
friend!"
He led us out of the cell and down a maze of corridors till we reached
the outside. There was a hole in the fence that he led us through and
then we were free and in the jungle.

Kinja, was his name. He guided us slowly through the thick undergrowth
of the jungle. We travelled slowly as Master was barely conscious from
the torture he had endured. I was not dressed for a trek through the
jungle. My short sundress was in tatters, and my heels had long been
abandoned as I tripped over the sharp branches and ground as he found
a small game trail.

Kinja urged us to continue on. Soon it would be light out and our
escape would be discovered. "The General will have every soldier out
looking for us!" he exclaimed. Getting caught was not something Kinja
was eager to have happen.

As dawn began to get stronger, Kinja led us down a new path where we
came across a green Range Rover with some men waiting for us. He
called out to them and they hurried over and helped carry Master and
myself to the vehicle. They loaded us in and Kinja bade us farewell. I
thanked him profusely as Master was no longer conscious.

We rode in the vehicle for a few hours along the bumpy dirt rode until
we came to a small clearing. There in the clearing was a helicopter
waiting for us. Master certainly knew how to plan for eventualities!

We were loaded onto the helicopter and an Arab pilot buckled us in and
flew us out of the jungle. I stayed awake, watching over Master, and
also making sure that the pilot was on our side.

The landscape began to change, from dense forest, to light trees, to
savanna to finally desert. We were in the air for most of the day.
Finally we were out to sea. I asked the pilot if he had enough fuel,
and he nodded. I continued to attend to Master's wounds and before
long I could see we were headed to an island. As the island grew
larger, I realized that it was the same island slave fortress that I
had visited with Master a while ago as a house slave.

We touched down and there was a vehicle waiting to take us up to the
castle. Once inside a medic pushed me away and started working on
Master. He was wheeled to a small infirmary and the medic proceeded to
patch him up. He turned to me, "Nice work attending to his wounds,
you've saved me a lot of work!" he complimented me.
"Will he be okay?" I asked.
The medic nodded, and I slumped down with relief.

End ch. 06
-------------------------------------------------
If you liked this story drop me a line:
sirsemega@gmail.com
I'm always happy to hear from the readers!

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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