Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Enslaved Chapter 65 free porn video
“When shall we be leaving for the ‘Paradise’?” asked Melissa on the following day.
“As soon as I have heard favourably from Madam Vesta,” replied Quentin. “And I am presuming I will.”
Madam Vesta! Melissa, despite everything, still felt the faintest of shivers go through her at even the mention of that name. All the same, she could not deny she was much beginning to look forward to the trip. Under Quentin’s protection, she would be an honoured guest on the vessel and there should be plenty of playthings to amuse herself with!
A mail came from Madame Vesta within two days. She would be happy to receive the party of four... Quentin, Melissa, Julia and Simone... within a week’s time. Julia and Simone should be crated in the usual way and left at a certain small private airfield which belonged to her organisation and from which they would be transported. Melissa and Quentin should fly to the Far East, where they would be met and later taken by helicopter to the ‘Paradise’.
Quentin mailed back confirmation.
All was set...
Melissa went about making a selection of clothes she would need and had Julia pack them. The latter was repeatedly reminded about the forthcoming trip... and asked if she were looking forward to it.
To meeting Madame Vesta again...
To kissing Miss Judith’s boots - and feeling her crop...
To servicing those two big black brutes, Ahmed and Jason...
To publicly amusing guests with her sexual expertise...
To finding herself down in the Punishment Room if her behaviour was in the slightest degree unsatisfactory...
To all these questions and many similar, Julia made one reply.
“Yes Mistress... “ And it was made with the utmost meek servility. For Julia knew better than to do otherwise.
„There she is... look!”
Melissa followed Quentin’s pointing finger out of the helicopter window. Far below, looking like a toy, was the ‘Paradise’. The vessel appeared to be stationary. How incredible, thought Melissa, that such a small, innocent looking object could harbour such limitless misery and torment. Julia and Simone, who had been removed from their crates during the flight and received reviving injections, also looked down through another window.
With the keenest, apprehensive dread!
Slowly the helicopter descended to within five hundred feet. The details of the vessel could now be clearly seen. On one of the after decks a squad of six naked girls could be observed carrying out some form of drill under the supervision of an overseer. That was about the only sign of activity. Then the helicopter began to descend again. There was a small circular platform for it right at the stern. They landed gently and within moments the roar of the whirling blades ceased. In the sudden silence, as the pilot opened his door, the barking voice of the drilling overseer could be heard.
A ladder was run up and the passenger door opened.
“Start bringing the luggage,” said Quentin over his shoulder. He got up and preceded Melissa down the ladder. Picking up two bags each, Julia and Simone followed. The heat hit all of them, it was mid-afternoon. God, those girls on drill must be sweating, thought Quentin. There came a faint cracking sound... followed by a distant wail of pain.
At that moment Madame Vesta, followed by big blonde Miss Judith, came up the hatchway. The former, as ever, was dressed in black... a kind of uniform suit made of the lightest leather accompanied by lace up calf length boots. Miss Judith was more informally garbed in a kind of bikini made of pale blue cotton or similar material, with a pair of high-heeled white open-work sandals. Hanging from her right wrist from its leather-looped handle was a two-foot long strap of rich mid-brown leather, two inches wide and a quarter of an inch thick. The oil with which it was saturated gleamed faintly in the bright light. Most suitably dressed for the climate, she looked most fetching, thought Quentin. Though for sure, he would be one of the few on board who did so!
“Welcome back,” said Madame Vesta, extending a hand to Quentin. Her granite features broke briefly into what passed for a smile. Feeling goose-pimples Melissa stepped forward expecting to receive a handshake also. But did not get it.
“Had a good trip, I hope,” said Miss Judith, smiling widely and also shaking Quentin’s hand. She too did not take Melissa’s hand... but simply looked at her... and went on smiling. Melissa made herself smile back, but not too convincingly. I must talk to Quentin about this reception, she said to herself, not quite so welcoming as it might have been. She began to find herself beginning to become quite ridiculously afraid.
Stop it... stop it... she urged herself. There’s nothing to worry about, you’re Quentin’s wife now. It was only natural that they should be a bit reticent with ex-slaves.They too, had to adapt.
“I want gold chains on both slaves,” said Quentin. At that precise moment, as if prearranged, the two negro overseers, Ahmed and Jason came up on the platform, clad only in the briefest white loin-cloths. Each carried one of the slim gold waist-chains which indicated that that slave-girl was available to all and sundry.
“You first, I think,” said Miss Judith, stepping forward.
She stepped not to Julia, as Melissa had expected, but to Melissa herself. Then to her shocked horror, she found her lightweight dress ripped down from neck to waist.
“Oh... no... oooh... stop... what... what is the meaning of this?” she raged. “I... I’m Mrs Osman now. You’re making a mistake... an absurd mistake!”
“I think not,” said Miss Judith... and ripped Melissa’s dress the rest of the way down.
“Quentin!” Melissa turned to him. “Stop them... tell them!”
But all she saw was Quentin grinning rather like a naughty schoolboy.
Terror gripped Melissa. She turned to run but found herself gripped by Ahmed. She must have been mad to come back to this vessel! But how could she have known? It must be a joke, yes... an absurd practical joke by Quentin.
“Quentin... stop them... stop them... stop... all... this...”
But all that happened was that while Ahmed held her, Miss Judith ripped off the rest of her dress, then her brassiere and briefs.
“Do something... Quentin... stop them... tell them... oh God... have you all gone mad?”
Quentin remained unmoved, but still looked faintly sheepish. Julia and Simone were looking upon the scene in amazed disbelief.
“You arrogant bitch,” rasped Miss Judith. “You’ve had it too good for too long. I’ve been waiting for you. Kneel!”
Melissa’s mouth sagged. She gave one more imploring glance in Quentin’s direction. “You’re crazy!” she screamed. “This nonsense has gone far enough! I’m Mrs Osman I tell you...”
“Kneel SLAVE,” ordered Miss Judith in a voice of steel.
But still the order was not obeyed. Panic, terror, disbelief filled Melissa’s green eyes in swift succession. This couldn’t be happening!
There was no need to give Ahmed an order, he simply twisted Melissa around with consummate ease forcing her auburn head between his massive thighs and pulling her wrists high up on her back, forcing her to present her smooth silky-white hind-quarters to Miss Judith, who took a grip of her strap, swung it high, and laid it hard across the centre of Melissa’s bottom.
Tthhwwwaaacccckkk!
It was that very first stroke that told Melissa that this was no practical joke, that this was real, that this was the end of the line for her. That, having tasted the exquisitely delicious fruits of liberty and power there was now only - and once again - only the bitter gall of captivity and abasing servitude.
The five more blazing strokes that followed convinced Melissa even more of the truth of her re-enslavement. She screamed with pain (now so unused to it as she was) but the far greater pain was in her mind...
The certain knowledge that she was now once more a slave-girl. Owned! At anyone’s beck and call, there to be used and abused. Indefinitely...
Oh God yes, that was the worst of it!
Indefinitely...
Ahmed’s thighs unclamped and she was hauled up, weeping half hysterically. The sun blazed in her eyes. Her head seemed to swim.
“Oh... o-ohh... Q-Quentin... how could... you have done this... this terrible thing to me...”
There came no answer.
“Kneel slave,” repeated Miss Judith.
Sobbing uncontrollably, head bowed to the deck, Melissa knelt.
“Kneel UP!”
All the memories, so long locked away, were escaping. It was like opening Pandora’s box. Melissa knew exactly what she must do. She forced herself erect, parted her thighs and placed her hands submissively on top of her head. She was shuddering in disbelief, quite shocked... but unable to deny reality.
“And it is not ‘Quentin’,” Miss Judith was saying. “It is ‘Master’!”
There was a long pause, then came no more that a whisper.
“Master... “said Melissa.
Quentin nodded his head approvingly. It was a sign of submission. Of his ownership. Lately Melissa had been getting just a little too big for her boots. Moreover, he had become slightly bored with her as his wife, definitely it had been time for a change, so a change had been made.
He watched as a gold chain was locked around Melissa’s slim waist and saw her break into uncontrollable sobbing. Julia was also watching... and in incredulous amazement. Could this truly be happening to the woman who had tormented her beyond all human understanding for so long? Could it? Could it?
It seemed so...
Yes, it DID seem so!
Oh how incredibly wonderful!
Her own slavery became as nothing. So long as Melissa was also a slave! Oh yes... oh yes... THAT was what mattered. Oh how wonderful... oh how supremely wonderful! Julia found herself trembling with the strength of her emotions as she looked down on the kneeling, naked figure of her suddenly deposed Mistress... who’s bottom had just been deeply reddened by Miss Judith’s strap.
“Put a gold chain on this one, too,” ordered Quentin, pointing at Simone.
The French woman seemed quite bemused by proceedings. She stood mute and meek as a gold chain was locked around her waist. What was happening? It could do her no good, she felt, but how was it possible her Mistress had been so suddenly and violently degraded.
BEATEN even! Incredible... and by no means unrewarding.
“Put down those bags Julia,” said Quentin. He was still standing alongside Madame Vesta, whose face remained quite impassive throughout. She was simply the organiser, and a very good one!
Julia obeyed. It was automatic.
Down the hatchway and then forward, into the guest’s quarters, set amidships. Quentin opened a door, and Julia stopped. Quentin waved her in. Nervously, hesitantly, Julia entered the luxurious double cabin. This was, indeed, an Alice in Wonderland arrival! She sank to her knees, bowed her head as Quentin came through the door.
He seated himself in a deep armchair and from a pocket in his light safari suit, withdrew a tiny pair of black nylon briefs, edged with white lace.
“Here,” he said, tossing them in the girl’s direction.
„Putt these on. That will do for a start.”
Complete slave-girl that she had become, Julia crawled uncomprehendingly across the thick pile carpet. When a Master gave an order, a slave-girl obeyed. She stood up and pulled on the tight, little briefs. How strange it felt to wear such an object! Julia knelt again.
How, at that moment, could she be aware that this gesture was but the first ray in a ‘New Dawn’?
Quentin opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses.
“Julia... get off your knees... take this... “
“Y-Yes... yes... Master... “ Julia got up warily. This could well be some kind of game, it could be dangerous. She took the glass with a trembling hand.
“Drink, Julia.”
“Yes, Master...”
Quentin shrugged almost resignedly. “Not ‘Master’, Julia. Don’t you understand? That’s all over.”
Julia shook her head. “No,” she said rather blankly. “No, I don’t understand.”
“Obviously, and fair enough, it will take time,” said Quentin.
“Yes... yes... “nodded Julia. Then her face suddenly brightened. “But then... then... I saw... you did have her stripped and beaten. She is... she is now your slave again?”
“She is, Julia... she is... you must believe me...”
“I can’t... I can’t... not yet... after all that has happened...”
And at that, Julia burst into a torment of tears and fell to the floor. She clawed the carpet, twisted and turned as if in torment. Maybe it was a kind of joy which could not yet be truly believed in.
“Take your time, Julia,” said Quentin complacently. “It will work itself out, all you have to do is convince yourself that you are no longer my slave. In fact, as I once gave you to her, now I give her to you. Do you understand that?”
Julia shook her head. “No... M-Master... sorry... I mean... just no. I don’t understand it yet. I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t even believe it true, not after all that has happened...”
Quentin caressed Julia’s dark hair as if she were a c***d. “I think I do understand, and I don’t expect miracles. I just want you to rest and relax. Get well again. Change your mental attitude. I’m not demanding anything. Frankly, perhaps I just want to make amends.”
There was a blank look on Julia’s face. She wanted to say that it could never be possible. Never, never! But at that moment, after this traumatic change, she had not yet got the courage to do so. She had been so long in utter servitude it was not possible to leap out of such abasement in one single bound.
Quentin understood that, kind man that he was! “Take your time, Julia,” he said. “We have plenty of that now. More champagne?” He poured another glass without waiting for an answer, Julia drank greedily then held out her glass again. Quentin re-filled it with a happy smile.
“Is... is this all true?” asked Julia, her dead eyes beginning to sparkle again. “Is it really?”
“Yes, Julia, it is,” nodded Quentin. “After all, you were once my fiance... my first love. Once I was mad about you, I still find you most attractive. It was only because of your cheating me that you have gone through... well... gone through... all that you have.”
Julia inclined her head. It was spinning a little.
“I... I think I understand,” she said. “But surely... I didn’t deserve what you have done to me. Whatever I might have done to you!”
“Of course you didn’t deserve all that,” nodded Quentin. “I just happened to have developed into the most frightful sadist. I’m sorry in a way, but there you are... “
Julia remained silent for a while. “There is no limit to the vileness of human beings,” she said at last. “That has been demonstrated often enough.”
“True,” intoned Quentin. He was thinking that Julia looked rather seductive wearing those little black briefs, rather than being stark naked - as she had been for so long!
“It is quite possible I could become a sadist myself,” said Julia, in a tone which was remarkably strong.
“I think you once were,” answered Quentin, “deep down...”
Julia considered that. “You may well be right, Quentin,” she said. She finished her glass of champagne and extended it again. “More please,” she said.
“Certainly, my dear.” Quentin poured more wine and Julia drank deep, she still couldn’t quite believe it all... and was determined to enjoy herself as long as she could.
“What do you think they are doing to... to... Melissa?” she asked. It was still difficult for her to talk of Melissa, rather than ‘Mistress’.
“I have no idea,” answered Quentin airily. “Maybe she is chained in her cell. Possibly she is being fucked by Ahmed or Jason. No doubt they will be glad to see her back. Really I don’t care, my dear Julia. As far as I am concerned she is just a slave-girl again, and they can do with her as they like.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Julia. For the first time in what seemed like ages, a faint smile crossed her lips. “No... no... as far as that is concerned, I couldn’t agree more.”
“How glad I am you feel like that,” said Quentin unctuously.
Julia smiled more easily. “I think you are actually meaning that,” she said.
“I do... I do, Julia. And I would be the first to admit our... well... quite different... different in many ways... relationship... is going to be difficult to cope with, for both of us.”
“Yes... it will be difficult,” agreed Julia. The wine was flowing strongly within her, she was beginning to get the most marvellous feelings. “Will... will you give me Melissa as a slave?” Still now, hardly daring to ask.
“Of course, Julia, of course. You can have anything. I want you as my companion. Wife, if you like. Just whatever you like. My dear girl, I have taken everything I possibly can out of you. Now I want to put a little back, if you want it.”
“I... I want it,” said Julia. She paused. “Though... I must say... it is going to be... well... .to say the least... difficult...”
Quentin smiled and ran his hand up and down Julia’s straight smooth back. “Do believe me, young woman,” he said, “I do understand that. If I were you,I would feel in exactly the same way. On the other hand, when I was sincere in my affections, and my intentions, you must admit you were the most two-timing little hot-pants imaginable.”
“Yes... I suppose I was,” agreed Julia, after a pause.
“And that was what set me off on all this. Now I’m completely involved, with other slaves, with sadism running me, in a way it’s all your fault.”
Julia said nothing. Indeed after all she had endured, it would have been difficult for her to respond to such a monstrous statement with any degree of rationality!
There was a long, long silence.
“You have ruined my life,” said Julia at last. “But now it seems, at least you are trying to make amends. I accept that, but you can hardly expect me to accept too gracefully...”
“No.”
“What is it you want out of me?”
“Absolution,” replied Quentin. “A cleansing. To make up to you for all that I have done to you. Do you not think my conscience troubles me on occasions?”
Julia smiled faintly. “Yes... I should imagine it does,” she replied. “On the other hand, you’re beginning to talk my kind of language.” She got up and poured her own glass of champagne, quite ignoring Quentin. That’s my Julia, he thought. Already the old arrogance is coming back! No matter. It was about time she was allowed some!
“So you think we can make a go of it?” asked Quentin.
“Assuredly,” answered Julia. Though she wore only the pair of briefs she was beginning to feel as if she were robed like a queen again!
Melissa was down in one of her cell-cabins. She had just been chained to the wall by the once so-familiar heavy iron collar which Ahmed had locked around her neck. She was weeping incessantly. Still shocked. Still not able to believe it... despite the burning swathes across her bottom. Next Ahmed locked her wrists on to the collar. It was the regular form of securement for a slave-girl in her cell-cabin. This was a single one, though there were a few doubles. Julia and Melissa had once jointly occupied one of those.
So long ago now...
“Welcome back, girlie,” grinned Ahmed. Melissa had always been one of his favourites. He fondled her heavy breast... and Melissa instinctively recoiled. For that she got her breast slapped. Anger flared momentarily in her eyes, then died. What was the use? She was a slave again. She had to submit. Melissa proffered her breast... and got them mauled and squeezed by coal-black hands.
“That’s better,” grinned Ahmed. You’d forgotten for a moment, hadn’t you?”
“Y-Yes... Master... “whispered Melissa. It was hideous to have to call this black brute ‘Master’ once again.
„Been acting the lady for too long, I expect?”
“Y-yer... .mmfff... y-yes... I expect... s-so,,,Master... mmfff...” sobbed Melissa.
“Well, the sooner you forget about that the better,” said Ahmed. It was wise advice... and deep down, Melissa knew it. She felt Ahmed’s hand run down her belly and delve into her pubic hair. “This will have to come off, I expect,” he went on. “But I’ll have to ask your Mistress about it.”
“My – M-mistress?”
“Miss Julia.”
“Oh no!” Melissa ground her teeth in a sudden surge of bitter fury. It was incredible that Julia could be her Mistress! QUITE INCREDIBLE! QUITE INCREDIBLE! “Oh god... no... oooooo... ... “ she moaned softly.
Ahmed nodded. “You’ll soon get used to it,” he said understandingly. “If you don’t, I wouldn’t care to think what might happen.” Nor could Melissa. She watched dumbly as Ahmed stood up and removed his small loin-cloth. There dangled the long, thick black penis she had once known so well. And now, assuredly, she would know so well again. Ahmed came and stood at the edge of the bunk. He gave no order. It wasn’t necessary. Melissa was familiar with the routine. It all came back to her.
Clank... clank... went her chain as she positioned herself. Then her head went down. She began to kiss and lick the organ, which thickened and stiffened slowly but surely. When it was nearly rigid, Melissa took it in her mouth and sucked. Ahmed looked down contentedly. This young, white beauty had not forgotten how to do that exceedingly well either! After about a minute, Ahmed took hold of the thick auburn hair and pulled Melissa off.
“Now I’ll welcome you back properly, girlie,” said Ahmed.
Despair filled Melissa’s eyes. Oh yes... how vast... how unbridgeably vast... was the difference between enforced sex and unforced sex! Melissa had discovered that in reverse. Now she was to re-discover it in further reversal.
Once again no order was necessary. With a sobbing-moan, Melissa pressed her nose to the hard boards of her bunk, raised her hindquarters invitingly and opened her thighs. Strong black hands gripped her flanks. She felt the big knob positioning itself. She gritted her teeth.
“A-A-Aaaahhhh!”
Ahmed entered her in a single, lunging thrust. Melissa squirmed out of control. This Negro, along with Jason, was the biggest man she had ever known. That was why he was employed on the ‘Paradise’. She would have to get used to him again.
Ahmed began to pound with a steady, strong rhythm.
“Ah yes... aahh... yes... just as... good... as ever...” he said. Melissa got a slap on her flank. “Move that arse, slave!”
Automatically, Melissa began to ‘move’ it. A slave-girl was not permitted to be quiescent under ‘****’, she had to co-operate.
Melissa co-operated.
Yes... it was coming back to her, how a slave-girl had to behave. Coming back fast. She worked herself to give her ravager maximum pleasure.
“Lovely... hhhaaahhh... hhhhoooorrrrr... lovely...” panted Ahmed, thrusting ever faster. “Hoooorrrr... yes... you’re still... a... lovely fuck... my girl... hhhaaaahhhh... hhhhoooorrrrr... .hhhaaahhh...”
Thump... thump... thump!
Melissa was getting a really powerful fucking. And she knew it.
Thumpity... thumpity... thump... thump... thump... thump!
Faster and faster ... and faster...
That great ramrod of black flesh consuming her...
Oh God... the brute was going to make her come! Oh no... she mustn’t! Melissa fought it.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!
No use. She couldn’t resist it. Simply couldn’t...
Cursing herself inwardly, Melissa began to gasp and squeal, just as Ahmed mounted to final frenzy, grunting piggishly.
The climax swept over them virtually simultaneously, perhaps Melissa was slightly in advance, and she squirmed and squirmed and squirmed as Ahmed spurted and spurted and spurted into her.
Then she lay crushed down under the Negro’s weight, panting and moaning. She could still feel him in her. Still big, but no longer rigid. She cursed herself again for her weakness. So shaming. So abasing.
After about a minute, Ahmed withdrew, left the bunk and patted her warm, still - quivering bottom.
“Good girlie,” he said, “you haven’t forgotten a thing...”
She heard the cell door open and close. Then heard the key in the lock.
There was a terrible finality about that sound...
Melissa burst into a torrent of tears.
“As soon as I have heard favourably from Madam Vesta,” replied Quentin. “And I am presuming I will.”
Madam Vesta! Melissa, despite everything, still felt the faintest of shivers go through her at even the mention of that name. All the same, she could not deny she was much beginning to look forward to the trip. Under Quentin’s protection, she would be an honoured guest on the vessel and there should be plenty of playthings to amuse herself with!
A mail came from Madame Vesta within two days. She would be happy to receive the party of four... Quentin, Melissa, Julia and Simone... within a week’s time. Julia and Simone should be crated in the usual way and left at a certain small private airfield which belonged to her organisation and from which they would be transported. Melissa and Quentin should fly to the Far East, where they would be met and later taken by helicopter to the ‘Paradise’.
Quentin mailed back confirmation.
All was set...
Melissa went about making a selection of clothes she would need and had Julia pack them. The latter was repeatedly reminded about the forthcoming trip... and asked if she were looking forward to it.
To meeting Madame Vesta again...
To kissing Miss Judith’s boots - and feeling her crop...
To servicing those two big black brutes, Ahmed and Jason...
To publicly amusing guests with her sexual expertise...
To finding herself down in the Punishment Room if her behaviour was in the slightest degree unsatisfactory...
To all these questions and many similar, Julia made one reply.
“Yes Mistress... “ And it was made with the utmost meek servility. For Julia knew better than to do otherwise.
„There she is... look!”
Melissa followed Quentin’s pointing finger out of the helicopter window. Far below, looking like a toy, was the ‘Paradise’. The vessel appeared to be stationary. How incredible, thought Melissa, that such a small, innocent looking object could harbour such limitless misery and torment. Julia and Simone, who had been removed from their crates during the flight and received reviving injections, also looked down through another window.
With the keenest, apprehensive dread!
Slowly the helicopter descended to within five hundred feet. The details of the vessel could now be clearly seen. On one of the after decks a squad of six naked girls could be observed carrying out some form of drill under the supervision of an overseer. That was about the only sign of activity. Then the helicopter began to descend again. There was a small circular platform for it right at the stern. They landed gently and within moments the roar of the whirling blades ceased. In the sudden silence, as the pilot opened his door, the barking voice of the drilling overseer could be heard.
A ladder was run up and the passenger door opened.
“Start bringing the luggage,” said Quentin over his shoulder. He got up and preceded Melissa down the ladder. Picking up two bags each, Julia and Simone followed. The heat hit all of them, it was mid-afternoon. God, those girls on drill must be sweating, thought Quentin. There came a faint cracking sound... followed by a distant wail of pain.
At that moment Madame Vesta, followed by big blonde Miss Judith, came up the hatchway. The former, as ever, was dressed in black... a kind of uniform suit made of the lightest leather accompanied by lace up calf length boots. Miss Judith was more informally garbed in a kind of bikini made of pale blue cotton or similar material, with a pair of high-heeled white open-work sandals. Hanging from her right wrist from its leather-looped handle was a two-foot long strap of rich mid-brown leather, two inches wide and a quarter of an inch thick. The oil with which it was saturated gleamed faintly in the bright light. Most suitably dressed for the climate, she looked most fetching, thought Quentin. Though for sure, he would be one of the few on board who did so!
“Welcome back,” said Madame Vesta, extending a hand to Quentin. Her granite features broke briefly into what passed for a smile. Feeling goose-pimples Melissa stepped forward expecting to receive a handshake also. But did not get it.
“Had a good trip, I hope,” said Miss Judith, smiling widely and also shaking Quentin’s hand. She too did not take Melissa’s hand... but simply looked at her... and went on smiling. Melissa made herself smile back, but not too convincingly. I must talk to Quentin about this reception, she said to herself, not quite so welcoming as it might have been. She began to find herself beginning to become quite ridiculously afraid.
Stop it... stop it... she urged herself. There’s nothing to worry about, you’re Quentin’s wife now. It was only natural that they should be a bit reticent with ex-slaves.They too, had to adapt.
“I want gold chains on both slaves,” said Quentin. At that precise moment, as if prearranged, the two negro overseers, Ahmed and Jason came up on the platform, clad only in the briefest white loin-cloths. Each carried one of the slim gold waist-chains which indicated that that slave-girl was available to all and sundry.
“You first, I think,” said Miss Judith, stepping forward.
She stepped not to Julia, as Melissa had expected, but to Melissa herself. Then to her shocked horror, she found her lightweight dress ripped down from neck to waist.
“Oh... no... oooh... stop... what... what is the meaning of this?” she raged. “I... I’m Mrs Osman now. You’re making a mistake... an absurd mistake!”
“I think not,” said Miss Judith... and ripped Melissa’s dress the rest of the way down.
“Quentin!” Melissa turned to him. “Stop them... tell them!”
But all she saw was Quentin grinning rather like a naughty schoolboy.
Terror gripped Melissa. She turned to run but found herself gripped by Ahmed. She must have been mad to come back to this vessel! But how could she have known? It must be a joke, yes... an absurd practical joke by Quentin.
“Quentin... stop them... stop them... stop... all... this...”
But all that happened was that while Ahmed held her, Miss Judith ripped off the rest of her dress, then her brassiere and briefs.
“Do something... Quentin... stop them... tell them... oh God... have you all gone mad?”
Quentin remained unmoved, but still looked faintly sheepish. Julia and Simone were looking upon the scene in amazed disbelief.
“You arrogant bitch,” rasped Miss Judith. “You’ve had it too good for too long. I’ve been waiting for you. Kneel!”
Melissa’s mouth sagged. She gave one more imploring glance in Quentin’s direction. “You’re crazy!” she screamed. “This nonsense has gone far enough! I’m Mrs Osman I tell you...”
“Kneel SLAVE,” ordered Miss Judith in a voice of steel.
But still the order was not obeyed. Panic, terror, disbelief filled Melissa’s green eyes in swift succession. This couldn’t be happening!
There was no need to give Ahmed an order, he simply twisted Melissa around with consummate ease forcing her auburn head between his massive thighs and pulling her wrists high up on her back, forcing her to present her smooth silky-white hind-quarters to Miss Judith, who took a grip of her strap, swung it high, and laid it hard across the centre of Melissa’s bottom.
Tthhwwwaaacccckkk!
It was that very first stroke that told Melissa that this was no practical joke, that this was real, that this was the end of the line for her. That, having tasted the exquisitely delicious fruits of liberty and power there was now only - and once again - only the bitter gall of captivity and abasing servitude.
The five more blazing strokes that followed convinced Melissa even more of the truth of her re-enslavement. She screamed with pain (now so unused to it as she was) but the far greater pain was in her mind...
The certain knowledge that she was now once more a slave-girl. Owned! At anyone’s beck and call, there to be used and abused. Indefinitely...
Oh God yes, that was the worst of it!
Indefinitely...
Ahmed’s thighs unclamped and she was hauled up, weeping half hysterically. The sun blazed in her eyes. Her head seemed to swim.
“Oh... o-ohh... Q-Quentin... how could... you have done this... this terrible thing to me...”
There came no answer.
“Kneel slave,” repeated Miss Judith.
Sobbing uncontrollably, head bowed to the deck, Melissa knelt.
“Kneel UP!”
All the memories, so long locked away, were escaping. It was like opening Pandora’s box. Melissa knew exactly what she must do. She forced herself erect, parted her thighs and placed her hands submissively on top of her head. She was shuddering in disbelief, quite shocked... but unable to deny reality.
“And it is not ‘Quentin’,” Miss Judith was saying. “It is ‘Master’!”
There was a long pause, then came no more that a whisper.
“Master... “said Melissa.
Quentin nodded his head approvingly. It was a sign of submission. Of his ownership. Lately Melissa had been getting just a little too big for her boots. Moreover, he had become slightly bored with her as his wife, definitely it had been time for a change, so a change had been made.
He watched as a gold chain was locked around Melissa’s slim waist and saw her break into uncontrollable sobbing. Julia was also watching... and in incredulous amazement. Could this truly be happening to the woman who had tormented her beyond all human understanding for so long? Could it? Could it?
It seemed so...
Yes, it DID seem so!
Oh how incredibly wonderful!
Her own slavery became as nothing. So long as Melissa was also a slave! Oh yes... oh yes... THAT was what mattered. Oh how wonderful... oh how supremely wonderful! Julia found herself trembling with the strength of her emotions as she looked down on the kneeling, naked figure of her suddenly deposed Mistress... who’s bottom had just been deeply reddened by Miss Judith’s strap.
“Put a gold chain on this one, too,” ordered Quentin, pointing at Simone.
The French woman seemed quite bemused by proceedings. She stood mute and meek as a gold chain was locked around her waist. What was happening? It could do her no good, she felt, but how was it possible her Mistress had been so suddenly and violently degraded.
BEATEN even! Incredible... and by no means unrewarding.
“Put down those bags Julia,” said Quentin. He was still standing alongside Madame Vesta, whose face remained quite impassive throughout. She was simply the organiser, and a very good one!
Julia obeyed. It was automatic.
Down the hatchway and then forward, into the guest’s quarters, set amidships. Quentin opened a door, and Julia stopped. Quentin waved her in. Nervously, hesitantly, Julia entered the luxurious double cabin. This was, indeed, an Alice in Wonderland arrival! She sank to her knees, bowed her head as Quentin came through the door.
He seated himself in a deep armchair and from a pocket in his light safari suit, withdrew a tiny pair of black nylon briefs, edged with white lace.
“Here,” he said, tossing them in the girl’s direction.
„Putt these on. That will do for a start.”
Complete slave-girl that she had become, Julia crawled uncomprehendingly across the thick pile carpet. When a Master gave an order, a slave-girl obeyed. She stood up and pulled on the tight, little briefs. How strange it felt to wear such an object! Julia knelt again.
How, at that moment, could she be aware that this gesture was but the first ray in a ‘New Dawn’?
Quentin opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses.
“Julia... get off your knees... take this... “
“Y-Yes... yes... Master... “ Julia got up warily. This could well be some kind of game, it could be dangerous. She took the glass with a trembling hand.
“Drink, Julia.”
“Yes, Master...”
Quentin shrugged almost resignedly. “Not ‘Master’, Julia. Don’t you understand? That’s all over.”
Julia shook her head. “No,” she said rather blankly. “No, I don’t understand.”
“Obviously, and fair enough, it will take time,” said Quentin.
“Yes... yes... “nodded Julia. Then her face suddenly brightened. “But then... then... I saw... you did have her stripped and beaten. She is... she is now your slave again?”
“She is, Julia... she is... you must believe me...”
“I can’t... I can’t... not yet... after all that has happened...”
And at that, Julia burst into a torment of tears and fell to the floor. She clawed the carpet, twisted and turned as if in torment. Maybe it was a kind of joy which could not yet be truly believed in.
“Take your time, Julia,” said Quentin complacently. “It will work itself out, all you have to do is convince yourself that you are no longer my slave. In fact, as I once gave you to her, now I give her to you. Do you understand that?”
Julia shook her head. “No... M-Master... sorry... I mean... just no. I don’t understand it yet. I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t even believe it true, not after all that has happened...”
Quentin caressed Julia’s dark hair as if she were a c***d. “I think I do understand, and I don’t expect miracles. I just want you to rest and relax. Get well again. Change your mental attitude. I’m not demanding anything. Frankly, perhaps I just want to make amends.”
There was a blank look on Julia’s face. She wanted to say that it could never be possible. Never, never! But at that moment, after this traumatic change, she had not yet got the courage to do so. She had been so long in utter servitude it was not possible to leap out of such abasement in one single bound.
Quentin understood that, kind man that he was! “Take your time, Julia,” he said. “We have plenty of that now. More champagne?” He poured another glass without waiting for an answer, Julia drank greedily then held out her glass again. Quentin re-filled it with a happy smile.
“Is... is this all true?” asked Julia, her dead eyes beginning to sparkle again. “Is it really?”
“Yes, Julia, it is,” nodded Quentin. “After all, you were once my fiance... my first love. Once I was mad about you, I still find you most attractive. It was only because of your cheating me that you have gone through... well... gone through... all that you have.”
Julia inclined her head. It was spinning a little.
“I... I think I understand,” she said. “But surely... I didn’t deserve what you have done to me. Whatever I might have done to you!”
“Of course you didn’t deserve all that,” nodded Quentin. “I just happened to have developed into the most frightful sadist. I’m sorry in a way, but there you are... “
Julia remained silent for a while. “There is no limit to the vileness of human beings,” she said at last. “That has been demonstrated often enough.”
“True,” intoned Quentin. He was thinking that Julia looked rather seductive wearing those little black briefs, rather than being stark naked - as she had been for so long!
“It is quite possible I could become a sadist myself,” said Julia, in a tone which was remarkably strong.
“I think you once were,” answered Quentin, “deep down...”
Julia considered that. “You may well be right, Quentin,” she said. She finished her glass of champagne and extended it again. “More please,” she said.
“Certainly, my dear.” Quentin poured more wine and Julia drank deep, she still couldn’t quite believe it all... and was determined to enjoy herself as long as she could.
“What do you think they are doing to... to... Melissa?” she asked. It was still difficult for her to talk of Melissa, rather than ‘Mistress’.
“I have no idea,” answered Quentin airily. “Maybe she is chained in her cell. Possibly she is being fucked by Ahmed or Jason. No doubt they will be glad to see her back. Really I don’t care, my dear Julia. As far as I am concerned she is just a slave-girl again, and they can do with her as they like.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Julia. For the first time in what seemed like ages, a faint smile crossed her lips. “No... no... as far as that is concerned, I couldn’t agree more.”
“How glad I am you feel like that,” said Quentin unctuously.
Julia smiled more easily. “I think you are actually meaning that,” she said.
“I do... I do, Julia. And I would be the first to admit our... well... quite different... different in many ways... relationship... is going to be difficult to cope with, for both of us.”
“Yes... it will be difficult,” agreed Julia. The wine was flowing strongly within her, she was beginning to get the most marvellous feelings. “Will... will you give me Melissa as a slave?” Still now, hardly daring to ask.
“Of course, Julia, of course. You can have anything. I want you as my companion. Wife, if you like. Just whatever you like. My dear girl, I have taken everything I possibly can out of you. Now I want to put a little back, if you want it.”
“I... I want it,” said Julia. She paused. “Though... I must say... it is going to be... well... .to say the least... difficult...”
Quentin smiled and ran his hand up and down Julia’s straight smooth back. “Do believe me, young woman,” he said, “I do understand that. If I were you,I would feel in exactly the same way. On the other hand, when I was sincere in my affections, and my intentions, you must admit you were the most two-timing little hot-pants imaginable.”
“Yes... I suppose I was,” agreed Julia, after a pause.
“And that was what set me off on all this. Now I’m completely involved, with other slaves, with sadism running me, in a way it’s all your fault.”
Julia said nothing. Indeed after all she had endured, it would have been difficult for her to respond to such a monstrous statement with any degree of rationality!
There was a long, long silence.
“You have ruined my life,” said Julia at last. “But now it seems, at least you are trying to make amends. I accept that, but you can hardly expect me to accept too gracefully...”
“No.”
“What is it you want out of me?”
“Absolution,” replied Quentin. “A cleansing. To make up to you for all that I have done to you. Do you not think my conscience troubles me on occasions?”
Julia smiled faintly. “Yes... I should imagine it does,” she replied. “On the other hand, you’re beginning to talk my kind of language.” She got up and poured her own glass of champagne, quite ignoring Quentin. That’s my Julia, he thought. Already the old arrogance is coming back! No matter. It was about time she was allowed some!
“So you think we can make a go of it?” asked Quentin.
“Assuredly,” answered Julia. Though she wore only the pair of briefs she was beginning to feel as if she were robed like a queen again!
Melissa was down in one of her cell-cabins. She had just been chained to the wall by the once so-familiar heavy iron collar which Ahmed had locked around her neck. She was weeping incessantly. Still shocked. Still not able to believe it... despite the burning swathes across her bottom. Next Ahmed locked her wrists on to the collar. It was the regular form of securement for a slave-girl in her cell-cabin. This was a single one, though there were a few doubles. Julia and Melissa had once jointly occupied one of those.
So long ago now...
“Welcome back, girlie,” grinned Ahmed. Melissa had always been one of his favourites. He fondled her heavy breast... and Melissa instinctively recoiled. For that she got her breast slapped. Anger flared momentarily in her eyes, then died. What was the use? She was a slave again. She had to submit. Melissa proffered her breast... and got them mauled and squeezed by coal-black hands.
“That’s better,” grinned Ahmed. You’d forgotten for a moment, hadn’t you?”
“Y-Yes... Master... “whispered Melissa. It was hideous to have to call this black brute ‘Master’ once again.
„Been acting the lady for too long, I expect?”
“Y-yer... .mmfff... y-yes... I expect... s-so,,,Master... mmfff...” sobbed Melissa.
“Well, the sooner you forget about that the better,” said Ahmed. It was wise advice... and deep down, Melissa knew it. She felt Ahmed’s hand run down her belly and delve into her pubic hair. “This will have to come off, I expect,” he went on. “But I’ll have to ask your Mistress about it.”
“My – M-mistress?”
“Miss Julia.”
“Oh no!” Melissa ground her teeth in a sudden surge of bitter fury. It was incredible that Julia could be her Mistress! QUITE INCREDIBLE! QUITE INCREDIBLE! “Oh god... no... oooooo... ... “ she moaned softly.
Ahmed nodded. “You’ll soon get used to it,” he said understandingly. “If you don’t, I wouldn’t care to think what might happen.” Nor could Melissa. She watched dumbly as Ahmed stood up and removed his small loin-cloth. There dangled the long, thick black penis she had once known so well. And now, assuredly, she would know so well again. Ahmed came and stood at the edge of the bunk. He gave no order. It wasn’t necessary. Melissa was familiar with the routine. It all came back to her.
Clank... clank... went her chain as she positioned herself. Then her head went down. She began to kiss and lick the organ, which thickened and stiffened slowly but surely. When it was nearly rigid, Melissa took it in her mouth and sucked. Ahmed looked down contentedly. This young, white beauty had not forgotten how to do that exceedingly well either! After about a minute, Ahmed took hold of the thick auburn hair and pulled Melissa off.
“Now I’ll welcome you back properly, girlie,” said Ahmed.
Despair filled Melissa’s eyes. Oh yes... how vast... how unbridgeably vast... was the difference between enforced sex and unforced sex! Melissa had discovered that in reverse. Now she was to re-discover it in further reversal.
Once again no order was necessary. With a sobbing-moan, Melissa pressed her nose to the hard boards of her bunk, raised her hindquarters invitingly and opened her thighs. Strong black hands gripped her flanks. She felt the big knob positioning itself. She gritted her teeth.
“A-A-Aaaahhhh!”
Ahmed entered her in a single, lunging thrust. Melissa squirmed out of control. This Negro, along with Jason, was the biggest man she had ever known. That was why he was employed on the ‘Paradise’. She would have to get used to him again.
Ahmed began to pound with a steady, strong rhythm.
“Ah yes... aahh... yes... just as... good... as ever...” he said. Melissa got a slap on her flank. “Move that arse, slave!”
Automatically, Melissa began to ‘move’ it. A slave-girl was not permitted to be quiescent under ‘****’, she had to co-operate.
Melissa co-operated.
Yes... it was coming back to her, how a slave-girl had to behave. Coming back fast. She worked herself to give her ravager maximum pleasure.
“Lovely... hhhaaahhh... hhhhoooorrrrr... lovely...” panted Ahmed, thrusting ever faster. “Hoooorrrr... yes... you’re still... a... lovely fuck... my girl... hhhaaaahhhh... hhhhoooorrrrr... .hhhaaahhh...”
Thump... thump... thump!
Melissa was getting a really powerful fucking. And she knew it.
Thumpity... thumpity... thump... thump... thump... thump!
Faster and faster ... and faster...
That great ramrod of black flesh consuming her...
Oh God... the brute was going to make her come! Oh no... she mustn’t! Melissa fought it.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!
No use. She couldn’t resist it. Simply couldn’t...
Cursing herself inwardly, Melissa began to gasp and squeal, just as Ahmed mounted to final frenzy, grunting piggishly.
The climax swept over them virtually simultaneously, perhaps Melissa was slightly in advance, and she squirmed and squirmed and squirmed as Ahmed spurted and spurted and spurted into her.
Then she lay crushed down under the Negro’s weight, panting and moaning. She could still feel him in her. Still big, but no longer rigid. She cursed herself again for her weakness. So shaming. So abasing.
After about a minute, Ahmed withdrew, left the bunk and patted her warm, still - quivering bottom.
“Good girlie,” he said, “you haven’t forgotten a thing...”
She heard the cell door open and close. Then heard the key in the lock.
There was a terrible finality about that sound...
Melissa burst into a torrent of tears.
Josephina
- 29.11.2022
- 13
- 0
